by Kate Young
“Go!” I urged.
“Okay.” Betsy threw her arms around my neck. “I’ll see you on the outside.”
She sniffed, wiped her eyes, and shuffled out of the cell. She lifted her hand right before she went around the corner.
The door remained open after she’d gone. The detective inclined his head, and we traded inquisitive stares. Was this a mind game? If so, I wasn’t about to break down.
“Well,” he said.
“Well what?” I crossed my legs and laced my fingers over my knee.
“Would you prefer to stay inside the cell or join me in the sheriff’s office?” The heavy set of keys jingled as he shifted them to his other hand.
“Are you serious?”
“I’m never not serious. Life hasn’t afforded me a sense of humor.”
He could say that again. Slowly, I rose. The hour and a half had felt more like an eternity inside the cell. And if I reacted true to my emotions, I’d run from the room. Instead, I held my armor in place and followed the detective out the door. My armor slipped a little when the door clanged shut behind me, and I jumped. I squared my shoulders and marched after him anyway.
Aunt Vi charged me the second she spied me coming around the corner. She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed until I thought my ribs would crack. “It worked! He finally relented. I told that Latin fella and the surly detective I was going to be a boil on the backside of this department if they didn’t let both of my girls free.” She rocked me back and forth. “I’m so glad your daddy is okay. I prayed for him. We all did.”
“Thank you.” I hugged her back.
“I can’t believe the nerve of some folks. Harassing a poor girl who nearly lost her father.”
I didn’t have to see to Aunt Vi’s face to know the intense threatening glare she aimed at law enforcement.
“Don’t you worry, sweet girl. We’re going to get this sorted out. That detective has more brains than he lets on. He knows you and my Betsy are innocent.”
I patted her back. “You’re right. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to go and speak with the detective now.” I stared into her sweet round face and smiled. “Thank you for praying for Eddie.”
Aunt Vi bobbed her head and then placed herself protectively in front of me. The glare I imagined was there and in full force. “Remember this, Detective Big Shot, you’re not the only one who can call a press conference. You mistreat my girls and I’ll shout it from the rooftops. I’ll use every dollar I have to investigate your background and ruin what life you have left.” With that, she spun on her sandaled heels and left. I had to hand it to her. It was a hell of a way to leave an impression. I felt grateful to have her on my side and to know she cared about me.
“You ready?” Detective Thornton opened the door to Eddie’s office, and I walked inside.
The second the door softly shut behind me, I fought tears. I smelled Eddie’s cologne lingering. Even though I knew he had a bottle stashed in his desk, I wanted to believe it came from him. I scanned the images on his desk. I caressed his smiling face with my index finger before I sat in the chair opposite.
“I hear your father pulled through.” The detective handed me a Coke from the machine and propped himself against the desk.
I took the can and cracked it open, more parched than I realized. I assumed it was from the machine in the break room because it felt semi-cool. The other machine never kept the drinks cold.
“He did.” I swallowed and steered away from personal family stuff. “What are y’all doing to find Paul?”
“Everything we can.” He stared straight through me. “We have quite a predicament on our hands, don’t we?” The detective folded his arms.
I didn’t respond, unsure as I tread these unfamiliar waters. My attorney wasn’t here, and I certainly had no intention of accidentally incriminating myself.
“Let’s discuss the facts.”
“What are the facts as you see them, Detective?”
He turned, leaned back, and took a file from the top of the desk. “We have three crimes. A murder, an attempted robbery, and now a kidnapping. On the murder, we have the drugs found in your cottage. A match per the toxicology report. The body was found on your property and your boyfriend has been kidnapped after a public argument you two engaged in. We have witness testimony stating Betsy threatened the first victim after the victim started an argument with you.” He dropped the file back on the desk. “We have a video where your boyfriend is holding a sign with similar threats Betsy made.”
Nerves did somersaults in my stomach. Yeah, I sounded guilty, all right. Anything I said could and would be held against me in a court of law. “When is my lawyer arriving? I would feel better if he were here before I answered any questions.”
“Wise of you. But the thing is, Miss Brown. I don’t think you’re guilty.”
The inner warning alarms were blaring loudly. Trap! Trap! Trap! I straightened in the seat and took another sip from the can.
“Skeptical. Sure. I understand. I don’t know what’s going on here. Something is wrong. I’ve been a cop for over twenty years. I have a sixth sense.”
Javy had said something similar the other day. What was with law officers and their analogies? The phone on the desk rang and the detective leaned over and answered it. He grumbled a few clipped sentences into the receiver that, in my current state of mind, sounded like gibberish. I only caught Mr. O’Malley and agreement. My mind still spun with the declaration he’d just made, and I had to get it together. He set the phone down and went to open the door.
In walked my attorney, briefcase in hand. The older freckled man had a strong posture. His face showed no fear or concern. I wished I had his confidence.
“Has the detective been treating you well?” he asked as he reached me.
“Yes. He’s also just been telling me an interesting story.”
His eyes slanted toward the detective, and I read a warning within his gaze. “Yes, I can imagine he did.”
“She was never at risk. We were just having a friendly chat.” The detective appeared to remain stoic. He leaned forward and placed both palms on the desk as he faced us. “Weren’t we, Miss Brown?”
I glanced from the detective to my attorney. “What’s going on here? What am I missing?”
Mr. O’Malley turned to me. “We can have a private discussion first, or if you’re ready to get out of this place, you can trust I’m doing everything in your best interest. With your long night, I assumed you’d want the latter.”
His blue eyes were clear and reassuring. Eddie trusted him implicitly. I would too.
“Whatever you think is best. I’m okay to move forward.”
He smiled approvingly before wiping his expression clean and digging into his briefcase. For some reason, I felt proud I’d given him the correct response. He pulled out a printed document and put his cell phone on the desk. My eyes went wide as he opened the voice recorder app. He spoke clearly and concisely, announcing the date, time, and names of everyone in the room. Then he turned to the detective.
“Everything Detective Thornton requested has been added to the agreement. I’d like the record to state that anything spoken here or hereafter regarding said agreement will have no impact on my client in a negative way. Even in the event the department should later decide to pursue a separate set of criminal charges against her. Which I would advise against. I would also state that any information spoken here may be used in my client’s case if the department dares to pursue such a case.”
“Agreed and duly noted,” the detective said.
The ruddy-faced man pulled a chair close to me. “Some new evidence has come to light, my dear. This evidence has led Detective Thornton to the conclusion that it would have been impossible for you to have committed these crimes. Time-stamped evidence of your presence at the hospital after the wedding, a traffic camera recording, plus the hospital footage when you were there with your father. There’s no way you could be at two plac
es at once, and Paul held this morning’s paper.”
My heart hammered so loudly in my ears, and my head felt clogged. It took me a minute to process the information. I glanced from Mr. O’Malley to the detective.
“Not only that. We also managed to get a partial fingerprint taken from the drug in your cottage. Plus, upon further analysis of the video, the reflection of a person with dark curly hair was captured. A forensics team has swept through Paul’s apartment and found the place cleaned out. Not a single personal effect was able to be located. And someone did a proficient job of wiping it clean.”
My mouth dropped open, and I instantly closed it. Could I really be hearing this? A professional clean-out job, here on the island?
Mr. O’Malley took a seat next to me and placed his hand over both of mine. They went still, where I’d been twisting them subconsciously in my lap. It was a sweet, fatherly gesture, and I had to fight back tears.
“I had this drawn up this morning. It’s to protect you from any prosecutorial endeavors the department may decide to pursue if the case they are attempting to make falls through. All it needs is the detective’s signature. He has his own copy. This one is for you.” He passed the document over to the big man looming over us. He signed in a perfunctory manner. This detective truly didn’t believe me to be guilty.
As if reading my mind, the detective met my gaze. “You were correct in your analysis. This isn’t a crime of passion. These are carefully planned and executed crimes. Someone would have to understand police procedure. And I don’t mean a daughter of a local sheriff.” The detective picked up a photo and presented it to me. My heart nearly stopped. They’d blown up the image of the reflection in the video, showing the back of someone’s head. A head that reminded me of Alex’s. Curlier perhaps, like when he didn’t dry it after swimming or showering.
No, it can’t be.
My hands trembled as I handed the picture back. “Okay. If you don’t believe I’m guilty, why did you have Deputy Reyes haul me out of the hospital while I sat by my father’s bed?”
“I regret having to order that. Like I said before, someone is trying to frame you and your friend Betsy. If we allow said person to believe we’re considering filing charges, we’ll have a better chance at catching them. Deputy Reyes has been working tirelessly to prove your innocence to me. He had an old colleague analyze the video in record time.”
My bottom lip quivered. Thank you, Javy.
“Betsy is being questioned by Deputy Reyes in the other room about her cousin.”
I could have fallen from my chair. Sweet Lord, they caught the resemblance too. “You actually believe Alex Myers is capable of killing his wife, framing his cousin and ex-girlfriend, along with orchestrating a bank robbery while playing the grieving widower?” It all sounded like something out of a movie. A horrible B-level movie.
“It’s something to consider. He has motive, he had opportunity, and he has the means.”
I scrubbed my face with my hands. “Detective, in the last forty-eight hours, I’ve been accused of murder and kidnapping, along with attempted armed robbery. My father almost died, and I’ve spent two hours in a stinky cell. My best friend is beyond stressed out because of all of this mess, and a guy I was seeing has been abducted. Now you tell me a man I’ve known my entire life is behind it all. It’s too much.”
“I believe this concludes our meeting for today.” Mr. O’Malley shut off the recording. He helped me to my feet. “My client is exhausted. We’ll discuss this at a more opportune date.”
“It’s your decision, Miss Brown. But like you said, a guy you were seeing has been abducted. Don’t you want to help?”
“Of course I do. It’s just, right now, I’m fried and wouldn’t be of use to anyone. I’m having trouble thinking straight. My brother is at the hospital by our father’s side. I need to shower and take a nap and then I’m going back to be with my family. I’m taking Betsy with me. She needs a break.”
I shook Mr. O’Malley’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”
I started for the door, pausing with my hand on the knob. I turned and pierced the detective with my own stern glare. “After that, you have my word. I’ll help you. Under one condition. I will work with Deputy Reyes and only Deputy Reyes. Not that I’m saying I believe Alex is guilty, but whoever it is needs to be stopped, and poor Lucy deserves to rest in peace.”
The detective’s face held marginal surprise at my mentioning Lucy. “You are a good woman. We’ll find your boyfriend. Rest well, Miss Brown.” The detective rose to his full height. “I apologize for what you’ve endured by my hand. Your request to work with Deputy Reyes is granted.”
I still didn’t like this man, and if framing me would suit his purposes, I believed he’d do it in a heartbeat. I thought about replying with a mocking retort. Something like how generous he was for granting me such a kindness while I helped him build his case. Or perhaps he could take his grants and shove them where the sun didn’t shine and make his freakin’ case on his own. It would’ve been childish, and I hoped he’d keep his word and find Paul.
Instead, I nodded, turned, and left the room.
CHAPTER 24
A shower never felt so good. I shampooed my hair twice for good measure as my mind spun with a plethora of worries. Where was Paul? Was he okay? Were they hurting him? Who would hate me enough to want to frame me for theft and murder? Please don’t let it be Alex. I tried to be a good person, love my fellow man, and give back where I could. I jumped, poking myself in the eyes, as my phone blared from the other room, where it charged. Rubbing my left eye, I turned off the water, wrapped up in my terry cloth robe just as it went to voice mail. I held my hand on the tie and considered hopping back in the shower. Mr. Wrigley rubbed against my bare legs and meowed loudly.
“Is your feeder empty?”
As if he could understand me, he lifted his tail and marched toward the kitchen.
“It has to have just run out. I checked it earlier this week.” He was right, only a few small pieces remained. Like I thought, just ran out. “I’m sorry, little fella. It’s been a chaotic couple of days.”
He gave me a look that said he didn’t care one bit.
“Gee, thanks for the support.”
He meowed as if to say, “Who me?”
I hefted the bag of cat food and went about the task of refilling His Majesty’s meal dispenser. I leaned down and we engaged in one of our staring contests. Mr. Wrigley gave me a bemused expression as he glanced in my direction with his head cocked to one side, looking positively adorable.
“Yeah, yeah, you always pull that you’re-so-innocent routine, and I’m the one with a couple of screws loose. I’ve got your number, fella. You and I are way too much alike.”
My cell rang again and, with a good scratch behind the ears, I left Mr. Wrigley to enjoy his meal. My mood had lifted marginally; Mr. Wrigley had that effect on me. I missed the call again and I checked the number. Unknown number. Huh, probably a telemarketer. I placed the phone back onto the bedside table as I stretched out on top of the cool comforter. My last thought was I should probably dry my hair and I hoped I wasn’t getting sick.
* * *
Betsy, Aunt Vi, and I sat out on the back deck drinking coffee and gazing at the sunset. They made me promise to allow myself a few minutes to breathe and not be consumed with guilt about Paul. I was trying, but how could I enjoy a lovely evening while he remained captive? I needed to rest or I’d be no use to him or anyone. I had real limitations and needed to address them when they reared their ugly heads. It was okay to take time for self-care.
“Eddie’s doing well then? He’d have to be for them to have him up and walking to the bathroom.” Aunt Vi took a cookie from the platter I’d placed on the table.
“He is. I spoke to Sam after my nap.” I sneezed into my elbow and took a tissue from the box.
Betsy held out her hand for the box of Puffs I had next to me, snatched it from my outstretched hand, and loudly blew her nos
e. She and I both seemed to have come down with some sort of cold or bug at the same time. Which was the reason I was sitting here instead of at the hospital with my family. Eddie’s immune system couldn’t be compromised.
“I bet you girls caught something from that nasty cell they had y’all in. Someone should do something about the uninhabitable conditions of the correctional institution on this island.” Aunt Vi shook her head.
“They really should!” Betsy took a sip from her mug. “I think I saw black mold growing in the corner. We probably got a disease or somethin’.”
“Relax. We didn’t get a disease in a couple of hours in a holding cell. And it’s not technically a correctional institution, Aunt Vi.” I succumbed to yet another sneezing fit.
Betsy handed over a box of cold medication.
“Ugh.” I popped two pills and knocked them back with the last of my coffee.
Aunt Vi had steadily headed for the steps. “Listen, y’all know Aunt Vi is all about her girls. And if I thought my presence here would be of aid, I’d stay. However, now that we know where the detective’s head is on this case, there’s no need for me to put this ole bod through a bout of whatever y’all have.”
“You’re right. Save yourself while you still can.” Betsy moaned melodramatically.
I waved to a descending Aunt Vi, not blaming her one bit as she waddled down the beach toward her cottage.
“You know what I think?” Betsy said as the breeze blew and we both shivered. Not a good sign. “I think we should head over and have a conversation with my cousin. If the detective thinks he’s behind this, we should show our cards. I mean, I don’t believe in a million years that Alex, even as stupid as he’s being, would ever set us up for murder. If we call him out, we might actually get somewhere.”
“On one hand, I don’t think that’s such a bad idea. Why wouldn’t he see reason and look at the situation objectively? If he did, he would see how absurd his notion that we’re involved is. But now that I’ve had a moment to consider things, something else is at play here.”