“Just wondering.”
Brandon extended his arm toward the door.
“Out. Now.”
When they had all gone, Brandon turned to Sue. “No unauthorized visitors in this area. We’ve got confidential information on open cases in here.”
“It’s the mayor, what am I supposed to do?”
“Call me if you have to. I’ll take care of the mayor, and her…entourage.”
As he pulled up to the curb in front of the house, Brandon realized he hadn’t gone grocery shopping. Between Emma’s surprise appearance and the investigation, he hadn’t even thought about dinner. He’d take Emma to the store after they got home. First, he wanted to change out of his uniform.
Brandon had just put his key in the lock when they heard Misty calling out from across the street.
“You all hungry?”
Brandon sighed. He’d planned on catching up with Emma, talk about plans for the summer.
“Totally,” Emma said, before Brandon could stop her.
Misty crossed his lawn, a casserole dish nestled in one arm, a bag of tortilla chips in the other.
“Enchiladas,” she said. “My recipe.”
Brandon must have had a thoroughly ungrateful expression, because Misty said, “You don’t have to take it.”
“You should eat with us,” Emma said.
“You sure?” Misty asked, looking to Brandon.
“Come in,” he said. “We didn’t have plans for dinner.”
Brandon spent most of the next hour listening to Misty and Emma talk. Mostly Misty asking questions and Emma giving long, drawn out answers about her favorite movies and television shows.
Brandon’s phone rang. It was Tori. He got up from the table and walked into the living room.
“Hey.”
“How’s my daughter?” she asked.
“So far so good.”
“Figures. She’s a saint for you.”
“Give it time,” Brandon said. “Hold on.”
Back in the kitchen, he held out the phone. “It’s mom.”
“What does she want?” Emma asked.
Brandon gave her a cold stare.
“Take it.”
Emma snatched the phone and fled to her room, slamming the door.
Misty stood, picking up their plates.
“You don’t have to—”
“I do have domestic skills,” Misty said. “At least let me show you I can cook and clean.”
“Together, then,” Brandon said.
It didn’t take long to handwash and dry the few dishes they’d used. Misty dried her hands and tossed the dish towel at Brandon. “How’s your investigation going?”
“Lots of new leads.”
“You think it has something to do with the vampire symbol out at the diner? People are scared.”
“Understood, but there are other things to consider. Evidence from the beach. A woman she’d argued with at the convenience store.”
“What woman?”
Brandon caught himself. He’d fallen into old habits, like when he’d come home and talked through a case with Tori. But Tori was a prosecutor, and someone he knew he could trust to keep quiet.
“I can’t say…”
“It’s not Ruby is it?”
Brandon stared back at her, and she said, “Sorry, I should know better than to ask—”
“Does Nolan share information about cases with you?”
Her face grew hard at the mention of Nolan. “No. Never.”
He didn’t believe her.
“He’s not like that,” she said.
“Good to hear. Because I won’t tolerate leaks coming from my department. I have to be able to trust people…” Their eyes met for the briefest moment. “…trust the officers under my command.”
Brandon and Misty stood at the bottom of the porch. The night air was chill, and he was close enough to sense Misty’s welcoming warmth.
“Thanks for dinner,” he said.
“It’s not like I have anyone to cook for now days.” She reached out for his hand. “Sorry about the whole Nolan conversation.”
“It’s over,” he said. “We can agree to disagree.”
“Brandon,” she said, taking a step closer to him. She put her hand on his chest. “About us—”
“This isn’t a good idea,” Brandon said.
“What about the other night?” she asked.
They had almost kissed, would have kissed, if Tori and Emma hadn’t showed.
“I’m recently divorced. You’re with someone. One of my officers.”
And there’s no proof that what ruined their relationship before wouldn’t ruin it again.
“I know, but—”
“Things could change,” Brandon said. “But they haven’t.”
He took her hand. “Thank you for dinner. And by the way, I’m glad you’re my neighbor. Let’s keep it that way.”
Her eyes studied his face, as if judging how far she should press the issue. She let go of his hand.
“Goodnight, Brandon.”
Back in the house, Emma was still in her room, chatting it up with her mom. Brandon listened for a moment. Emma giggled, describing her encounter with the vampire role-playing mayor of Forks.
Brandon smiled. It was good hearing them get along again.
He had warned Emma she’d be bored hanging around Forks during the day. There was a library, and she was a voracious reader, but that would get old too. He encouraged her to make friends, knowing how difficult that would be in a small town where you didn’t know anyone. Not to mention her dad was a cop, and Brandon was very selective about Emma’s acquaintances.
Brandon called his dad.
“Mattson here,” he answered.
“It’s Brandon.”
“I know who it is. I have caller ID.”
“What do you think about Emma coming over tomorrow?” Brandon asked.
“You want me to babysit?”
“She’s almost sixteen.”
His dad sighed.
Brandon knew it would be a mistake asking his dad to watch Emma. All he was asking was for the old man to spend the day with his granddaughter.
“Fine. Send her over,” he said.
“We’ll be there at eight if that’s not too late,” Brandon said.
“You working banker’s hours now? That’s practically lunch time.”
Brandon swallowed hard, holding back the handful of replies that came to mind. He needed his dad to keep an eye on Emma. At least for a few days until things settled down. If that meant putting up with his father’s jabs, so be it.
“Alright then. Eight o’clock.”
Brandon fell into the recliner and propped his legs up. His mind turned back to Misty. It was strange, living across the street after so many years.
Was he being too careful? What if she broke up with Nolan? Maybe they weren’t that serious, anyway. There weren’t any rules about dating a woman a fellow officer or even a subordinate used to date.
But that still didn’t make it a good idea.
His attraction to Misty was more about the past than anything he knew about her today. He’d planned on marrying her, had even bought the ring on the way back from boot camp.
It’s not that he didn’t forgive her. He’d moved on a long time ago. But forgiveness doesn’t mean making the same mistake twice. Maybe she’d changed. But he had too.
One of these days he’d get around to asking Lisa Shipley out. Maybe it would go somewhere. Maybe not. At least it would be a new start. No baggage or old resentment to worry about.
He fell asleep, listening to the sweet, peaceful tones of Emma getting along with her mother.
Chapter 19
Monday morning, Brandon dropped Emma off at his dad’s house and headed for work.
He flipped his office light on. Josiah had left manila folder on his desk with a sticky note. Chief, check this out. Good info.
Brandon slid his finger into the folder to ope
n it.
“So, what do you think?”
It was Josiah.
“Aren’t you here a little early?” Brandon asked.
Josiah’s shift started in half an hour.
“I wanted to get moving on this, ASAP.”
“I just picked this up, so why don’t you tell me—”
“I interviewed about every business the town. Then, I tried the bus station. That’s when I ran into old Jim Daniel.”
Brandon hadn’t known Josiah for long, but the kid seemed pretty excited.
“I don’t know who that is,” Brandon said.
“He’s a homeless guy—drifts between Forks and Port Angeles. Mostly keeps to himself.”
There was a public transit station just outside downtown. The bus went one place—to Port Angeles. It was a good deal for those who worked in PA, or vice versa, but it also meant an increase in homeless folks who otherwise wouldn’t have made the trip.
“Jim tells me he saw the girl in the wanted poster—Lauren.”
“When?” Brandon asked.
“The night she disappeared.”
If Josiah was right, that meant Jim was the only other person besides Ruby to see Lauren in Forks. Brandon’s thoughts immediately turned to Jim as a potential suspect.
“Why come forward now?”
“Jim’s not exactly a fan of law enforcement.”
“What’s his record?”
“Drug convictions. Trespassing,” Josiah said.
“No assault? Crimes against individuals?”
“You think he’s involved?” Josiah crossed his arms, leaning against the door jamb.
“It’s not uncommon for a perp to come forward, stay involved in the case.”
“I don’t think Jim would do that. He doesn’t drive, so how would he get her to the beach?”
“Right, but we don’t want to rule anyone out.” Brandon motioned Josiah toward the chair in front of his desk. “Tell me what Jim told you.”
Josiah sat on the edge of the seat, leaning forward. “First off, Jim says he recognized Lauren from the methadone clinic up in PA.”
“Where she worked.”
“He’s a client there, has been for a while. He saw the tow truck driver drop her off, watched her go into the store.”
“Did you tell him about the driver, or did he say that on his own?”
“On his own,” Josiah said.
Like any murder case, there could be hundreds of tips, most of them useless, fueled by the handful of distorted facts the public had heard or read about.
“But here’s the thing,” Josiah continued. “After she left the store, she got into a different truck with two men.”
“At the gas station?”
That’s not the story Ruby told. She said Lauren left on foot—alone.
“Right.”
“You get a description?”
Josiah shook his head. “No luck, but he did say they were in one of the road construction trucks. They came from the Forks Inn, across the street.”
Workers assigned to local road projects often stayed in town for days at a time. Forks and the surrounding area were too far from home for most contractors.
“She got into their truck willingly?” Brandon asked.
Josiah nodded. “There were two men.”
Why would Ruby want to protect a couple of out-of-towners? Did it have something to do with her drug dealing? Or was there a deeper connection between Ruby and these men?
“Which direction did they go?” Brandon asked.
“Down La Push Road. Toward the beach.”
“We need to interview those workers.”
“We’re headed to the Forks Inn?”
“First, the gas station. I take it you weren’t able to locate Ruby yesterday?”
“Not at home or work,” Josiah said.
“I want to know why she never mentioned these guys picking up Lauren,” Brandon said. “And Josiah, good work. Again.”
The outside door opened, and Nolan strode past Brandon’s office.
Brandon stepped into the hallway.
“Hey, Nolan.”
He turned. “Yeah?”
Brandon glanced up at the clock.
“You’re late,” Brandon said.
“I’m sorry,” Nolan said, his tone making it clear he wasn’t sorry at all. “I wanted to spend a few minutes with my lady friend. Seems she was busy last night.”
Had Misty told Nolan about dinner with Brandon and Emma?
“Take care of your personal business on your own time,” Brandon said.
“Like I said. Sorry. I’ll make it up to Misty tonight.” He winked at Brandon and continued down the hallway.
Bastard.
It shouldn’t bother him. What did he care about Misty’s personal life? The past was over, and old feelings were just that—old and feelings. They didn’t mean anything.
Brandon and Josiah drove together to the gas station where Ruby worked.
The day before, Brandon had asked Josiah and Will to check in with Ruby about her relationship with Lauren. But she called in sick to work. If she was at home, she wasn’t answering the door.
People got sick, and sometimes they weren’t home when you stopped by.
But they had learned a few things about Ruby and Lauren. Not only did they not like each other, it was possible she was a dealer. Lauren confronted Ruby for trying to sell drugs to patients at the methadone clinic, and at some point, Lauren threatened to turn her in—or worse.
None of that explained why Ruby would fail to divulge the fact that Lauren hitched a ride back to the beach from the two men in the truck.
Brandon could have visited Ruby’s work alone—technically he didn’t need Josiah there. But he wanted the young officer to learn. Sure, he would have gotten the basics at the academy, but dealing with a murder investigation, the stakes were higher, and the defense would be more likely to target the way you handled everything from evidence to interviews.
When they arrived at the store, there was no sign of Ruby, but that was no surprise. She worked night shift. Brandon approached the counter, Josiah a few steps behind him.
The man at the cash register was in his late forties. By his appearance and accent, Brandon guessed he was Pakistani.
“We’re hoping to speak to a manager,” Brandon said.
“I’m the owner. My wife and I.”
“Police Chief Mattson,” Brandon said. “We had a few questions.”
“Yes, I’ve heard of you.”
“How’s that?”
“In the newspaper.” He pointed to a stack of papers near the door. Josiah picked up a copy of the Forks Journal Extra.
Josiah’s eyes widened. “Front page news. Wow.”
The headline proclaimed, New Chief Puts Homicide Skills to Test. The byline read, Chief Cares Little for Local Tourism Efforts, but Wants to Nab Bad Guys.
“That S.O.B.,” Brandon said.
“It says here you and the mayor don’t see eye to eye on the importance of tourism,” Josiah said. “And there’s a bunch of details about the girl’s death.”
Brandon held out a hand and Josiah passed him the paper. “What sort of details?”
Brandon scanned the article. The majority was fluff, Ted Nixon’s attempt to dramatize Lauren Sandoval’s murder. Mostly guessing. But there were a few facts—things Brandon didn’t want public. Like the bite marks. And an anonymous comment referencing Ruby and her “less than friendly relationship with the victim.”
How the hell did he know that?
Brandon handed the paper back to Josiah. “You aware of any leaks in our department?”
Josiah looked Brandon in the eyes. “No.”
Dammit if he couldn’t trust anyone. How was he supposed to run an investigation with some hack reporter spilling info to the community—including potential suspects? He’d track down the source, and his first guess was Nolan and his connection to Ted.
“Mr.—”
�
�Kayani.”
“This is about Ruby Taylor and a young woman who visited your store on the night of June ninth,” Brandon said.
“Okay.”
Mr. Kayani glanced toward the newspaper rack. “You mean the girl who was murdered?”
“You had no idea?”
“Of course not.”
Ruby hadn’t told her boss about Brandon’s earlier inquiry.
“Ruby and I chatted a few days ago about the girl,” Brandon said.
“She did not tell me.”
Brandon pointed to the security camera on the back wall.
“Are those active?”
When Brandon had spoken with Ruby, she’d said the video system was broken.
Mr. Kayani glanced up at the camera.
“Of course.”
Ruby had lied—again.
“And you still have footage from last week?”
“Yes. It is all stored digitally.” He motioned to Brandon. “In my office.”
He led them back to a tight room with a table, a desktop computer, and one chair. They stood behind him as he logged in.
“What date and time do you need?”
Brandon told him the time and date of Lauren’s disappearance.
“I’ll start at twelve a.m.”
Mr. Kayani pushed play. The screen split between an outside camera and the one above the restroom. Ruby sat behind the counter reading a magazine. Five minutes later, she went outside and smoked a cigarette.
“Fast forward a bit,” Brandon said.
They watched as Ruby’s figure puffed her cigarette in double time, then returned to the store.
“Wait,” Brandon said. Mr. Kayani paused, then moved back a few frames.
“There.” Brandon pointed to a spot on the left edge of the outside camera frame. Headlights swept over the screen, then stopped. The vehicle remained off screen. A moment later, Lauren Sandoval appeared and the lights slid away, leaving the parking lot in darkness again. That would be Garrett Zornes, the tow truck driver, leaving.
Lauren appeared now inside the store. She stopped, glanced at Ruby, then shook her head before stumbling away. For about a minute, Lauren studied the beer section, wavering before the glass doors like a sleepwalker.
Ruby came around the corner and said something to Lauren, but Lauren waved her off.
Finally, she opened the door, reached in and grabbed a six pack of Coors Light. Lauren took the beer to the counter and pulled out a wad of cash.
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