To Believe

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To Believe Page 2

by Laura Scott


  “Okay, then you stay here with this guy, and I’ll hit the patrols.” Alex headed toward the door, stopping abruptly when it swung open. “Can I help you?”

  “I’m here to provide a witness statement.”

  She caught her breath when she saw Jeremy standing there, his hands tucked into the pockets of his well-worn jeans, the yellow polo shirt stretched across his muscular chest. He looked bigger in the bright lights of their headquarters, more handsome than she remembered, with his brown hair cut short and chiseled cheekbones. His piercing green eyes were exactly as she remembered. “I witnessed an assault on a police officer and want to be sure my side of the story is on record.”

  Trina felt her jaw drop in shock. Was Jeremy a mind reader now? How did he know that she’d thought about asking him to provide support for what had happened on Highway ZZ?

  It was becoming evident that avoiding Jeremy while he was here in McNally Bay would be impossible.

  2

  Trina’s face showed shocked surprise for a brief moment before a guarded wariness crept in. Jeremy wasn’t sure why she seemed to be wary around him, but she was. He couldn’t explain why he’d felt the need to come straight here tonight rather than wait until daylight, other than he hadn’t wanted to give up the chance to see Trina again.

  Ridiculous, as he was only in town long enough to attend Garth and Jemma’s wedding. Once that was over, he was heading straight back to Lansing. To his career that now consisted of taking care of medical patients on the night shift, instead of doing surgery. The only bright spot in his career was the promotion he’d been given, one that put him in charge of all the hospitalists. Maybe out of pity for his situation, but he thought it might be a good distraction from the loss of his ability to operate.

  A male deputy looked pointedly between him and Trina. “You witnessed the assault on Deputy Waldorf?”

  “I did.” He stepped forward. “I’m the one who reported the intoxicated driver, then subsequently saw everything that transpired.”

  “That’s great. Come in and have a seat.” The cop’s attitude became super helpful. “I’d be happy to take down your side of the story.”

  “I’ll head out to patrol the area if you’re going to take his statement.” Trina spoke up for the first time since he’d entered the building.

  “Hold on, Trina.” The deputy lifted a hand. “This won’t take long. I think it’s best you stay here to rest your shoulder.”

  Up close, Jeremy could read the nameplate over the deputy’s breast pocket; his last name was Rhine. The way Rhine appeared to take care of Trina had him fighting a ridiculous flash of jealousy. After dropping into a seat near one of the desks, he looked at Trina, offering a wry grin.

  She returned his smile, but then quickly looked away. Instead of leaving as she’d previously intended, she crossed over to chat with the dispatcher on duty.

  It wasn’t easy to tear his gaze from her. She was even more beautiful than she had been before, her auburn hair pulled back in a professional bun, her slate gray eyes just as mesmerizing as they had been ten years ago. Her figure was lithe and trim, holding an underlying note of strength. Seeing her again after all this time was unsettling. Especially in her role as a Sheriff’s Deputy.

  “Start at the beginning,” Deputy Rhine suggested.

  Jeremy described his call to 911 and how he’d continued tailing the driver until Trina arrived.

  “Trina?” Deputy Rhine lifted a curious brow.

  “Oh, uh, I knew her from several years ago and recognized her.” He could feel his face turning red with embarrassment. He continued his story. “She ordered the driver from the car and told him to face the truck with his hands against the vehicle. But he threw a punch at her, knocking her off balance. She tased him, but he still didn’t go down. He was coming straight at her, so she used her baton to defend herself and to take him into custody.”

  Deputy Rhine asked several more questions, including his name and address, before giving a nod. “Okay, I think that’s enough for now. We appreciate you coming forward with your statement.”

  “Of course.” He glanced again toward Trina, who didn’t seem to be paying him any attention. He rose to his feet and tucked his scarred hands into his pockets. “Happy to do it.”

  “You’re staying at the McNally Bed and Breakfast?” Deputy Rhine asked. “In case we have additional questions?”

  “Yes. Through the weekend.” Was it his imagination or had Trina stiffened at the news? “I can stick around longer if needed.”

  “I’m sure that won’t be necessary.” Trina’s voice came from across the room, proving she’d been listening to their conversation. “Take care, Jeremy.”

  “Yeah, you, too.” Since he couldn’t think of anything else to say, he left the building. His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, noting the caller was his sister, Jemma.

  “Where are you?” Jemma’s voice was lined with anxiety. “We expected you an hour ago.”

  “I know, sorry about that. I got hung up.” He decided not to go into detail, there was really no reason to worry his family.

  He hadn’t told them much about the car crash that had injured his hands either. Luckily, they hadn’t pushed. Mostly, he knew, because they’d all been preoccupied with Jazz and Dalton’s wedding.

  This weekend should be much the same. Enough chitchat to get caught up without going into detail. He loved his siblings, but his younger twin sisters could be annoyingly persistent when they wanted to be.

  “So where are you now?” Jemma asked, breaking into his thoughts.

  “Ten minutes away. I’ll be there soon.”

  “Okay, we’ll be waiting.”

  After disconnecting from the call, he quickly slid in behind the wheel and started the car. He didn’t run into any other intoxicated drivers on the drive along Highway ZZ between the Clark County Sheriff’s Department and the McNally B&B.

  When he pulled in, he hadn’t even shut down the engine when the front door opened revealing Jemma. Her blond hair was pulled back from her face, similar to the way Trina’s had been, and her dark brown eyes were full of excitement. Seeing her and knowing the rest of their siblings would be showing up soon made him smile.

  “Hey, sis.” He swept her up into a quick hug. “Sorry for the delay.”

  “It’s fine.” Jemma waved a hand, even though he knew she’d been worried. They knew about the car crash from nine months ago, and he figured Jemma’s imagination had gone a little wild.

  “Hey, Jeremy.” Jazz, as dark as Jemma was blond, was in the great room, greeting him with a broad grin. “Good to see you.”

  “It’s only been seven weeks since your wedding,” he joked. “Can’t imagine you missed me.”

  “Family is important,” Jemma chided. “We finally heard from Jake that he’s coming in from Ireland, too. I was worried he wouldn’t make the trip.”

  There were six McNally siblings in all, and Jake was the oldest of the bunch, with a wild playboy reputation of leaving broken hearts in his wake. Their eldest was a globe-trotter, although he had been in Ireland, a small town well outside of Dublin, for almost five months now.

  A new record as far as he could tell.

  Jeremy was second in line, then there was Jesse, Jonas, and the twins, Jemma and Jazz. From what he’d been hearing, McNally Bay was proving to be the place to fall in love.

  At least for the younger McNallys. He and Jake had no intention of following in their younger siblings’ footsteps.

  “Where are the guys?” He’d expected to find both Dalton and Garth with his sisters.

  “Garth is sleeping; he has to work early in the morning,” Jemma offered.

  “And Dalton is finishing up at our place,” Jazz added. “Now that Jemma and Trey are moved into the garage apartment, we’ve been going full force on our renovations.”

  He nodded, having remembered seeing the impressive redesign of the old Stevenson place that former architect Dalton O’B
rien had created. The guy was talented, no doubt about it.

  “So where do you want me?” He gestured to his duffel bag. “I’m assuming one of the rooms upstairs?”

  “Actually, we’re putting you in the master suite.” Jemma grinned. “First come, first serve.”

  He was surprised they hadn’t set the master suite aside for Jake, although maybe because they weren’t sure he would even make the trip. Flying back and forth from Dublin to Michigan was pricey, and to do it twice in one summer was more than anyone had expected.

  “Thanks, I appreciate it.” He glanced around the familiar great room, feeling a sense of coming home. Jemma and Jazz hadn’t changed much from the way their grandparents had kept it, other than providing some badly needed updates. The Cliffs of Moher painting his grandmother had done still hung over the stone fireplace, flanked by tall antique silver candlesticks. The deep cherrywood furniture was the same, the wood polished to a high sheen. The curved staircase leading to the second floor where six bedrooms each with their own bathrooms were located looked regal as always, and the rooms were perfect for guests staying at the B&B.

  “It’s great to be back,” he finally said. “I hear business is growing by the day.”

  “It’s fantastic, mostly because of Jemma’s cooking,” Jazz gushed. “The reviews related to our food are outstanding.”

  “And the photos from Jazz and Dalton’s wedding have spurred great interest in our Gazebo Wedding package,” Jemma added. “We’re booked solid every weekend through September and are already seeing bookings for next summer, too.”

  “I’m glad.” He was proud of the twins for making something out of nothing, honoring their grandparents’ memory by making the old McNally Mansion a booming business.

  “Breakfast is normally served between six and ten, but if you can’t make it then, just let me know.” Jemma gave him another quick hug. “We’re so happy you came, Jeremy.”

  “Me, too.”

  He walked through the dining area, dozens of tables set up in front of the French doors that offered an amazing view of Lake Michigan, to the master suite. The bedroom was large with a nice king-sized bed, the comforter and curtains various hues of navy blue and green. It didn’t take long to unpack, and soon he was stretched out on the wide bed.

  But as exhausted as he was, his mind refused to settle. He couldn’t stop thinking of Trina Waldorf.

  For some odd reason, he hoped to have a chance to reconnect with her over the next couple of days.

  Why? He had no clue.

  But the idea refused to leave him alone.

  Trina woke up the following morning, blinking against the bright August sunlight as her second-story apartment faced southeast. Her shoulder was stiff and sore, but thankfully not worse. Gingerly, she rotated her arm, satisfied that Eden hadn’t caused permanent damage.

  He should be sobered up by now. She quickly headed for the shower. Her plan was to get information out of him before he was brought to court for his initial hearing.

  She and the other Clark County Deputies had arrested other meth-heads, but by the time they’d been questioned, the location of the meth lab had changed. She wanted, needed to get an early start this time.

  Seeing Jeremy last night had made her think about her brother. The last time she’d seen him, shortly before he’d overdosed, Steve had looked similar to Tim Eden, skinny, malnourished, lanky, greasy hair, unkempt body, jittery hands and speech. She’d taken him to a private rehab facility in Lansing, but he’d always signed himself out and gone back to using.

  A circular pattern that had led to hopelessness and eventually death.

  Don’t go there.

  She tried to slam the door shut on the painful memories. The useless anger, the frustrating acceptance that the only one who could break the never-ending cycle of drug addiction was Steve himself.

  But he hadn’t been able to do it. Her older brother, once so strong, so full of life, had vanished, leaving an empty skeletal shell of a man behind.

  Pulling her thoughts from Steve wasn’t easy, but as she brewed coffee in her small kitchen, she forced herself to create a mental list of questions to ask Timothy Eden when she returned to headquarters.

  She dressed in a clean uniform, hoping the official look would be enough to convince Eden to cooperate. There were only a couple of DAs and public defenders in Clark County, and unless a prisoner had a lot of money to get a lawyer from Lansing, Battle Creek, or Kalamazoo, the public defender was his only option.

  Garth Lewis greeted her as she entered the building. “Hey, Trina, heard you got punched by the meth-head.” Despite his light tone, his gaze was dark and serious. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” She appreciated his concern, but she knew that if Alex or one of the other guys had been socked, that they wouldn’t be all concerned about an injury. Sometimes it sucked being a woman in a male-dominated profession. “Need to talk to Eden, though, in one of the interrogation rooms.”

  “Sure, but his lawyer is due any minute. The nurse from the clinic just left, too.” Garth walked toward the cell. “You want to wait for Kenny to arrive?”

  “He asked for a lawyer?” She’d hoped to talk to Tim Eden prior to the meeting with his attorney.

  “First thing,” Garth confirmed. “He sobered up and began claiming he was assaulted by you and wanted his lawyer.”

  “Of course, he did.” She was secretly glad that Jeremy had provided his statement.

  “Hey, no need to worry. I hear Jeremy McNally witnessed the whole thing.”

  “I’m not worried.” She gestured toward Eden’s cell. “Let’s get him situated in the interrogation room. Maybe Kenny will convince him to cooperate with us.”

  “Sure,” Garth agreed.

  By the time they had Eden cuffed and set up in the interrogation room, Kenny Travers arrived. Kenny was in his midfifties with a beer belly that hung several inches over his belt buckle. But while he obviously enjoyed eating and drinking, Kenny was no dummy. His eyes were sharp and keen with intelligence.

  “I’d like some time alone with my client.” He gazed directly at Eden in the interrogation room.

  “Okay, but one thing for you to know, I’m looking for the meth lab, so any information from Eden about the location of the lab and names of the guys involved will earn him a lighter sentence.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement.” Kenny didn’t let on if he cared about that or not but disappeared inside the interrogation room.

  “I really want to find that lab,” she muttered. “So far none of the names have panned out. I’m sure they’re using fake ones. But getting our hands on the lab itself would be key.”

  “I’m with you,” Garth agreed. “Shutting it down would be great for the county.”

  “Finding out who’s running the place would be even better.”

  “One step at a time.”

  She nodded, knowing he was right. The location of the meth lab was important, shutting it down would cause a break in the distribution of the drugs. There was also the possibility of finding key evidence inside the trailer, something, anything that may lead to the identity of the person in charge.

  Garth took off to patrol the town, leaving her to wait impatiently for Kenny to emerge from the interrogation room.

  Fifteen minutes later, the door opened, and Kenny gestured for her to come in.

  “My client is willing to cooperate,” Kenny said as she took the seat across from Eden. “But I need to know what you have to offer.”

  Trina knew it would come down to this. As much as she didn’t like it, she was more interested in getting information on the meth lab than punishing Timothy Eden. “Everything I say here has to be accepted by the DA, but I’ll toss out the resisting arrest charge if he tells me where the meth lab is located and who he bought the drugs from.”

  Kenny let out a humorless laugh. “Not good enough.”

  She ground her teeth together, then reeled out a little more line. “Fine. I�
��ll drop the assaulting an officer charge as well, despite the fact that an upstanding citizen witnessed the entire altercation. But that’s it. The rest of the charges related to driving under the influence second offense and driving without a license will stand.”

  There was a moment of silence as Kenny considered her offer. “I want proof the DA will agree.”

  The DA wasn’t going to argue, she knew it and so did Kenny, but she nodded. “Fine, I’ll get him on the phone.”

  Ten minutes later, the deal was done.

  “The location and names,” she reminded Eden.

  “We don’t use names,” Eden whined. “Just nicknames. I bought the drugs from a guy named Boomer.”

  Didn’t that figure? This was always the problem when trying to nail the guys involved. “The location, then.” She pushed a blank piece of paper across the table toward him along with a stubby pencil. “Draw it for me.”

  Eden’s hands were trembling, with either fear or the aftermath of coming down off his high. She watched intently as he drew the location of the current meth lab trailer, using familiar landmarks.

  “Thanks.” The moment he’d finished, she grabbed the paper and left the room, feeling as if there wasn’t a moment to lose.

  Trina was in her squad heading down Highway ZZ in record time. She was startled to recognize Jeremy’s car pulling out behind her.

  What was he doing here?

  She debated pulling over and sending him on his way, but she didn’t want to waste time. It was already nearly ten hours from the time she’d arrested Eden. Ten hours to have had the word of the arrest get out, spurring the guy in charge of the meth lab to move to a new location.

  Instead, she cued up Garth. “Unit four, this is unit seven. I’m heading to the last known location of the meth lab as provided by our perp. Requesting backup and assistance in getting a civilian off my tail.”

 

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