by P. Creeden
Just beside the window, the safe, where the jewelry had been, sat open, broken glass littering the floor around it. Emma frowned, stepped back and knelt down.
The glass littered the floor, but none of it had made its way into the safe. That seemed strange. She pushed the safe door closed but with a small gap so that it wouldn’t latch. Then she slid the wooden cabinet door in place over the safe. Behind the sliding door, on the shelf of books, several small shards of glass sat. Emma blinked at them. Was the timeline off? Could the window have been broken before the safe had been opened?
No, that didn’t make sense with either Renee’s or the butler’s testimony.
She pushed the cabinet door back the way she’d found it and pulled open the safe to leave it ajar and looking like it did when she’d first come into the study. Then she took a step back.
“I haven’t asked them to clean up in here yet,” Renee’s voice called from the doorway.
Emma’s heart leaped into her throat, and she swallowed in response. Her ears rang as her blood pressure rose. She didn’t have proof yet, nothing substantial, but Emma could feel the questions lingering in her heart. Could Renee be a killer? Could she have staged this whole thing? She cleared her throat before saying softly, “Since my father’s the sheriff, I often end up seeing scenes like this. I like to think of myself as an amateur detective.”
Renee huffed a laugh and then stepped over to the bar on the side of the room nearest the door. She lifted another decanter of liquor and uncorked it. “Amateur?” She poured herself a glass of the dark liquid. “According to the sheriff’s deputy, you are practically a detective yourself.”
Heat rushed to Emma’s cheeks. Had Colby really said that? No matter. Her jaw tensed as she watched Renee come around the front of the bar and lean against it holding a lemon and a knife. She sliced the lemon in half and then set one half on the top of the bar. Then she bit into the other half before setting it next to the one on the bar. Her facial expression remained unchanged as she reached for the glass of liquor and took a sip and set it back down.
All the while, she continued to grip the knife in her hand. Then she played with the tip of it with her other finger as she leaned against the bar once more. “So, little miss detective, did you find anything interesting? I can’t help but notice that you’re keeping your distance from me and looking at me a bit differently.”
Emma tensed and swallowed against the lump in her throat again. She’d never been a good liar or actress. Her father had always been able to tell when she’d done something wrong or needed to tell him something. She just couldn’t help but display all of her feelings on her face. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, her cell phone rang.
She pulled it from her pocket, and it vibrated on the palm of her hand. The screen said it was Colby. Was she allowed to answer it, or should she refuse the call? She tightened her jaw and stared at her phone, unsure.
“Go ahead, answer it,” the woman’s voice came from close to Emma’s elbow, and her hair rose up in response to the nearness of Renee’s voice.
She swallowed and slid her finger across the phone to answer. Her heart pounded in her chest as she put her phone to her ear and answered, “Hello?”
Chapter Five
“I’m on my way, but I’m running a bit late. I had to stop to help a driver who’d hit a deer. Is everything all right there? Is it okay if you stay with Mrs. Addison a short while?” Colby asked on the other side of the line.
A dozen different ways to answer jumbled in Emma’s head, but the biggest one screamed the loudest. She wanted to say, “No.” She wasn’t okay, but instead, no words made it past her choked throat. Renee pulled the phone from her ear and answered for her in a lilting voice. “Hello, deputy. We’re just peachy here. Take your time. I think I’ll show Emma around the property while we wait. We’re getting along like bread and butter. No need to hurry.”
Even from the couple feet away, Emma could hear Colby’s voice on the other end of the line. “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m sorry for any inconvenience.”
“No inconvenience at all. We’ll talk to you later.” Sweetness continued to drip from Renee’s voice as she ended the call and dropped the phone back into Emma’s empty hands.
The older woman still held the knife. It wasn’t a very long knife, the blade couldn’t have been more than three or four inches, but Emma had seen the way the knife had sliced through the lemon with no effort at all. It had to be as sharp as a razor. The woman had seemed drunk all afternoon, but now she appeared both sober and dangerous. Emma’s every nerve ending was on high alert.
“So, little miss detective, what did you find that has you looking at me as though I might tear your heart out with this little old lemon knife?” Renee stepped over to the bar and stood behind it again, pressing the knife’s tip into one of the lemon halves.
Somehow the extra space between her and the woman helped Emma calm her nerves. She gave a nervous laugh. “It’s not as if I found any evidence contradicting your statements to the police, exactly. Just a few things that made me have questions.”
Renee lifted a brow. “Like what?”
Emma backed up a step and headed toward the window. “When you saw the robber, he was standing in the window, like this?”
Renee nodded and took a sip of her drink. “That’s about right.”
“Were the lights on overhead in the room?”
Slowly the woman shook her head. “The lights were out. My husband’s desk lamp was all he ever used for lighting in the room when he smoked his cigars. But it had been knocked over in the struggle with the robber.”
“So, how did you see the man’s face? Did you turn on the overhead light?”
Renee shook her head again. “The butler testified also that the lights were off when he found me in the doorway screaming. I hadn’t stepped a foot inside the room. I had just watched the robber jump out the window, the lights from the roundabout had shone on his face, that’s why I got a good look at him.”
“Really?” Emma asked, standing closer to the window and turning toward Renee. “With the light behind me, how well can you see my face right now?”
Renee squinted at her and frowned but didn’t answer.
Emma turned to the side. “How about now? Can you see my face clearly? Can you tell me which of my eyes I have open and which I have closed?”
The woman took another sip of her liquor.
“No need to answer. I know that you can’t see my features well when the light shines behind me. It makes me believe that you couldn’t possibly have recognized Gunther Williamson’s face, either, unless you already knew him.”
“Is that so?” Renee asked as she set down the glass. “Perhaps I saw enough of his features to recognize both him and his silhouette when he attacked me in the garage even though I didn’t get a perfect look at him here.”
“Perhaps,” Emma said as she shrugged. “Also, it seems that another portion of your story doesn’t quite line up.”
Renee’s brow furrowed. “Oh?”
Emma stepped to the side and pointed to the safe. “There is no broken glass in the safe. If the window had been broken after the robbery had occurred, as your report to the police suggests, glass shards should be within the safe, but it’s empty.”
Renee shrugged. “Maybe the safe door was mostly closed at the time and then flung open more afterward.”
“That would make sense,” Emma said as she slid the cabinet door toward the safe. “If there weren’t glass shards behind this cabinet door, leading me to believe that the safe was closed and behind it when the window was broken.”
A sigh escaped Renee’s lips. “Don’t you think you’re grasping at straws a bit, little miss detective?”
Emma shrugged. “Maybe. I told you from the start that I didn’t have any solid evidence. Just a few questions.”
The elder woman rolled her eyes. “And did you have any more questions?”
Emma
leaned against the bookshelf beside the window, suddenly feeling less scared and more ready to prove herself. “Of a sort. Allow me to just spout off a few theories.”
“Please,” she said with an eyebrow raised again.
“I believe you knew Gunther Williamson and planned the robbery here the other night. He was supposed to get Mr. Addison to unlock the safe, but Mr. Addison refused. Gunther killed Mr. Addison before he could open the safe. He busted out the window to escape, possibly because he gave up on the robbery. When you arrived on the scene, you unlocked the safe and helped unload it.”
The woman’s brows drew together, and her lips thinned.
Emma continued, “After you had staged the scene for the robbery, you left the room and rushed to the butler’s, waking him and asking him if he’d heard the commotion. Once he was with you as a witness, you headed toward this study. At the study, you reminded him to get the phone, just so he wouldn’t necessarily see the face of the culprit. Then you opened the door, careful to leave the light off, witnessed Gunther Williamson’s escape, and screamed, so as to alert the Butler and have him rush to your side in time to see the shadow of a man slip away from the window in the roundabout.”
“Is that so?” Renee asked after she’d schooled her expression into a bored one.
“Yes,” Emma answered; her hand wrapped around her cell phone in the pocket of Colby’s suit jacket. “Then, today, you arranged for a meeting with Gunther on the top floor of the parking garage, knowing full well you intended on throwing him from the window when you got him close enough. His hands were busy at the time because you sprayed him in the face with your can of mace before pushing him over the ledge.”
Renee’s hand gripped the lemon knife once more. “Are you saying, then, that I’m a murderer?”
Emma pushed the button on her phone as she leaned forward. “Quite possibly a double murderer.”
She offered Emma a sinister smile. “If that’s true, aren’t you a bit scared right now? After all, you’re alone with a murderer, then.”
“The sheriff’s deputy is on his way. How would you explain that?”
“He might be a long while. I could hide your body and say that you grew impatient and got a ride home with a ride share app or something. No one would suspect me.”
Emma narrowed her eyes at the woman. “And why wouldn’t they suspect you?”
“I have no motive. No reason to kill the sheriff’s daughter.” Renee said, slowly stepping closer to her.
Emma swallowed, and stepped closer to the window. “There’s only one problem with that.”
“Oh, really?”
Emma pulled her phone out of the suit jacket pocket, Colby’s voice called out from the other end of the line. “I’ve heard everything, and I will be there in less than two minutes. Don’t do anything rash, Mrs. Addison. You don’t want to make things worse than they already are.”
Renee stepped back and placed the lemon knife back on the bar. She let out a sigh and crossed her arms over her chest. “Even if I tell you that you’re entirely right in everything you just said, it doesn’t matter. I won’t confess, and I’ll have the best lawyers money can buy. The scant bit of evidence you found here tonight isn’t enough to convict me.”
A siren wailed in the distance, and Emma could see flashing lights over the hill. She shook her head. “Maybe not, but what I heard tonight was enough to make my father and the detectives in the department re-open the case. I’m sure they will find more evidence of a relationship between you and Mr. Williamson, and perhaps evidence that’s even more convincing than a confession.”
The woman’s frown deepened as she stared into Emma’s eyes. Emma had never had a staring contest with a cold-blooded killer before that day, and she hoped that she never would again.
Chapter Six
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Colby asked again as Emma sat on the tailgate of his SUV, finally sinking her hands into Molly’s fur.
It was amazing how the feeling of warmth and softness could provide so much comfort when anxiety wanted to wreck Emma entirely. Once the initial adrenaline had worn off, she had wanted to collapse into a pool of despair and cry over what she’d done. Had she really come face to face with a cold-blooded killer and lived to tell about it?
One of the deputies that Colby had called in helped Renee into the back of a squad car. Renee shot her a look and blew a kiss. Would the justice system really convict a rich, charismatic woman like that? Emma hoped so. She shivered at the thought the woman might go free.
“Are you cold? Maybe I should take you to the hospital. You might be in a bit of shock.” Colby’s voice remained a bit higher than usual with its tint of worry.
She shook her head and met eyes with Colby. “I’m fine. Just a little shaken.”
His brows were knit together. “How could you do something so reckless, Emma? Even if you’d found evidence that said she was behind the robbery and murder, you should have just told me or your dad. You shouldn’t have confronted the murderer by yourself.”
He pushed a lock of her hair from her face behind her ear. And suddenly her ears started ringing again as her blood pressure rose for a different reason. Her face heated. She swallowed and pulled her eyes from his. “Everything turned out okay. I knew you were on the way.”
He shook his head, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Still. I wish you’d have waited until I got here at least.” He grimaced. “I should have been here sooner.”
Emma put a hand on his forearm. “I don’t believe she would have killed me.”
“She as good as said she would. I heard her.”
“An empty threat.”
“You hoped.”
“I knew.” Emma frowned as she buried her hands deeper in Molly’s fur. “If you look into Renee’s history, I’m certain you’ll find evidence she was abused by a man in her life—her father or another authority figure. She has no problem killing men, but women she has an affinity for.”
His hand squeezed her shoulder gently. “It was still a gamble, Emma. I wish you wouldn’t take risks like that. It isn’t worth it. I can’t lose you. Your father can’t lose you.”
She swallowed as her heart leapt into her throat. He’d confessed that he didn’t want to lose her. Could that mean something more than just as a little sister-type thing? Maybe... but maybe not. She let out a slow breath as she rationalized his emotional slip up. She leaned into him and rested her forehead on his shoulder. His arms slipped around her and held her in a light hug. His cinnamon scent surrounded her and she closed her eyes to breathe it in. Then she said, “I’m so tired.”
He squeezed her lightly before releasing her and pushing her back from him to look into her eyes. “Let me take you home, then. You’ve had a long day.”
She nodded and scratched Molly behind the ears once more before pushing the Saint Bernard from her lap. As the puppy stood next to the German Shepherd in the back of the SUV, Molly tilted her head at Emma and whined. With a smile, Emma patted her again as Colby shut the bottom tailgate she’d been sitting on. “Everything is fine, Molly. Don’t be a worrywart like Colby.”
“Hey,” Colby said as he pushed the top portion of the SUV closed. “It would be great if you didn’t give the two of us so much to worry about.”
He guided her to the passenger door of his SUV and opened it for her. He surprised her with his sudden closeness when he pulled the seatbelt over her lap and leaned across her to click it into place. Her heart raced as he paused, his face within kissing distance. His eyes became hooded, and when she licked her lips, his gaze dropped to the movement. She swallowed. Was he going to kiss her? Seconds passed, with them both sharing the small space. She held her breath. Then finally, he blew out a slow breath as he pulled back.
“All in?” he asked, a sudden smile masking his face.
And in her stupor, she nodded dumbly.
He continued to smile at her as though nothing had happened before closing the door. What had just happened?
Had he really almost kissed her? Had she just let her imagination run wild? She shook her head and finally let out the breath she’d been holding. No way. She had to have been wrong. And when Colby hopped back into the vehicle, he reached over and patted the top of her head. “Let’s get you back to your car. I’ll follow you home from there.”
Her jaw tightened of its own accord. He still treated her like a little kid in the end. She chewed her bottom lip as she darted her gaze out the side window of the SUV, watching the roundabout disappear behind them. Tears stung the backs of her eyes. Would there ever be a day when he would actually stop treating her as a kid and maybe truly kiss her? She blinked several times fighting back the pain and hurt. He didn’t mean to hurt her. He loved her in his own way, she knew all of that. But she wanted more.
How could she be so disappointed when he’d never promised her anything more?
“Hey, isn’t this your favorite song?” Colby asked as he leaned forward and turned up the radio.
Emma looked at him and shook her head, frowning at him. “Friends in Low Places by Garth Brooks?”
He laughed and started singing the lyrics.
She watched him, her heart fluttering again as he belted them out. But when the song reached the chorus, she couldn’t help but join in, singing at the top of her lungs with him. In the back of the SUV, Gabby started to howl, and weakly, Molly joined in, too. Colby and Emma met eyes with each other and laughed, but when the next chorus came through, the four of them belted it all out again.
And that was enough for now. Emma determined to be satisfied with what she and Colby already had, and not let herself get depressed when it didn’t become something more. Maybe someday it would, but she knew that good things couldn’t be rushed.
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