Rooted in Murder

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Rooted in Murder Page 2

by Emily James


  Mr. Huffman kept up to Russ as if the ground were flat. “Let me see it. I used to hunt before the arthritis made my hands ache.”

  Velma skirted around the men and came close enough that I could see her find but stayed far enough away that I couldn’t take it from her. Whatever animal she dug up had to be a big one. Up close, I could now see that the smooth bone had knobby ends on both sides, as if one should attach to a hip socket and the other to a knee cap. Shouldn’t a large animal like a deer or a cow be shaped differently? The horses we kept at Sugarwood didn’t have bones anything like this one.

  I got that fluttery feeling at the bottom of my throat, rising up my neck like my insides were scrabbling for means of escape. Neither of the men had said anything. “Is that a—”

  “It’s not like any animal bone I’ve ever seen,” Mr. Huffman said.

  “Me neither.” Russ’s voice had an almost accusatory quality to it.

  Even though I knew he didn’t actually blame me for all the murders that had happened in Fair Haven since I’d arrived, he did think I attracted death like a black car attracted dust.

  There was only one thing I could think to do. I pulled out my phone, snapped a picture, and texted it to Mark. As county medical examiner, he’d seen more human bones than any of us. He’d resolve this one way or the other.

  Velma dropped to the frozen ground, her hind end in the air and one paw holding down the bone while she gnawed on the end.

  “Should we take it away from her?” Mr. Huffman asked. “Just in case.”

  I didn’t want to touch it if it were a human bone, but Mr. Huffman had crossed his arms over his chest and Russ backed away a step. They clearly thought I should be the one. She was my dog, after all.

  Human or animal, I didn’t want to take the drool-covered bone from Velma’s mouth with the cute, fuzzy white mittens my mother-in-law gave me for Christmas. I tugged them off my hands and held them out to Ross. “Trade me at least.”

  He snagged my mittens from me and practically threw his gloves in my direction. I edged toward Velma. Chances were she wouldn’t want to relinquish her hold.

  I scooped up a clump of dirt about the size of a tennis ball and made sure she saw it. I heaved the dirt ball off behind her. She didn’t chase it, but she did drop her hold on the bone. I lunged in and grabbed it from her.

  My cell phone vibrated in my pocket.

  Bone in one hand, I wriggled off the other glove and fished out my phone.

  Mark’s picture flashed on my screen. “I don’t know whether to hope that picture was a bad joke or not. Where are you? I’m in the car, and I need to know where to head.”

  The fluttering in my throat stopped and dropped like lead pellets into my stomach. “What kind of bone is it?”

  “A human femur.”

  2

  Officer Quincey Dornbush arrived at the field only a few minutes after Mark and took our statements. By the time he finished, crime scene techs swarmed the field. Ross, Mr. Huffman, the Sugarwood employees who’d come to help plant the trees, and I were all evicted from the scene.

  Part of me had hoped it was an isolated bone. That it was a hiker who died miles away, and a coyote dragged the bone here. I hoped it right up to the point when Mark texted to tell me they’d found a complete skeleton.

  Apparently, it wouldn’t matter if Tom McClanahan got those papers signed. No one would be planting anything until the police released the field.

  I took Velma home, but my hands twitched, wanting to turn around. I wasn’t used to being out of the loop when it came to dead bodies in Fair Haven. That skeleton could belong to someone I knew.

  I waited up for Mark until he got home, even though I had an early appointment tomorrow to go over some case files with Anderson. I even made spaghetti and meatballs and had a plate waiting for him. I’d never be a gourmet cook, but I was getting pretty decent at dishes that involved pasta.

  Mark sank into his chair, his cheeks still pink from the cold. Early February in Michigan was a terrible time to have to do anything outside.

  I sat on my hands to keep from fidgeting while he ate. So many of the people in this town were important to me. I had a suspicion I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I knew they were all safe.

  “Do you know anything yet?” I finally asked.

  There was only so much Mark was allowed to tell me about his work due to confidentiality. I couldn’t ask him too much directly. Part of what made us work as a couple was that I was comfortable with that part of his job. Until I’d joined my parents’ law firm, I’d known very few details of the cases they worked, and my Uncle Stan’s original career as a cardiologist meant he didn’t talk specifics about work, either.

  Mark reached a hand out towards me. “The bones were old.”

  I slid one of my hands into his. He either knew me exceptionally well—knowing what I was really worried about—or it was simply one of the only things he could actually share.

  “How old?” I asked.

  “Old enough that whatever happened took place when neither of us were in Fair Haven.”

  I did move to Fair Haven only a little over a year ago. Mark grew up here, and then moved away for school and work. He only returned after he and his first wife lost their unborn daughter. Saying neither of us was here when it happened still left a big window of time.

  At least it meant I hadn’t known the victim. They’d probably left behind people who loved them and would mourn them. Maybe it was selfish of me to be glad I wasn’t that person this time. But I was glad.

  I also couldn’t be accused of having anything to do with the death. Chief McTavish and I had moved past the point where he thought I was killing people in order to solve their murders, but he’d also recently accused me of being some sort of psycho because I ended up investigating a missing person while Mark and I were on our honeymoon.

  I’d just as soon steer clear of any involvement in this case even if it did leave me with no way to satisfy my curiosity. “Do they know who it is—was?”

  “We were able to get a DNA match. He was in the system for some petty crimes. Quincey and McTavish are on their way to notify his next of kin now. Quincey said that, until tonight, everyone thought he’d just run off.”

  Mark brought his plate and glass together as if he meant to clean them up. I took them from him instead. Not only had he had a busier day than I had, but he’d been shouldering a lot of the work around the house while I’d been under the weather the last few days. I rinsed the dishes and slid them into the dishwasher. I wanted to know more, but there didn’t seem to be much else I could ask that Mark would be able to answer.

  Arms slid around my waist, and Mark trailed kisses up my neck. “How about we do something other than talk about death right now?”

  This day had gotten off to a rough start, but at least it could end well. I turned around in Mark’s hold and leaned into his kiss.

  A knock rattled the front door.

  Mark groaned and tilted his forehead against mine. “What are the chances this late at night that can be anything good?”

  The newlywed part of me wanted to ignore the knock at the door and go back to what we’d been doing. The responsible part of me knew we couldn’t. Even though I couldn’t think of a reason someone would show up late at night rather than calling, that didn’t mean there wasn’t one. And Mark was right. Whoever it was wouldn’t be here now unless it was important.

  Another knock at the door, more insistent this time. A sleepy bark rolled out from the laundry room where the dogs were tucked into their crates for the night. Big dogs were a bit like babies. Once you put them down for the night, you didn’t want to wake them. You’d have a hard time getting them back to sleep if you did.

  Mark snatched another quick kiss. “Hold my place. I’ll be right back.”

  I trailed Mark halfway to the door, so I could see who was there. Grady Sherwin stood on our doorstep, still in his Fair Haven police uniform. As if a late-night visitor wa
sn’t bad enough, it had to be him.

  Mark kept one hand on the door and pressed the other into the door frame, creating a human barrier. He probably didn’t even know he was doing it. “Is there something that couldn’t wait for morning?”

  A tiny note of exhaustion tinged Mark’s otherwise professional tone. As much as he loved his job, getting pulled back out into the winter night after a long day would test anyone’s stamina.

  “I’m not here for you.” Grady looked around Mark, and his gaze landed on me. “I’m here for her.”

  Grady Sherwin and I had a rocky enough history that I wouldn’t put it past him to come here with some routine question that could wait until morning just to reassert his authority. Despite how he’d helped clear Mark’s name before Christmas, we weren’t exactly friends.

  I joined Mark at the door. “It’s close to midnight, and I already gave my statement to Quincey. If you have other questions, I’d be happy to come in tomorrow afternoon, when I’m done at work.”

  Something flickered across Grady’s face, fast enough I couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just the light casting shadows.

  He placed a foot onto the door step. “I’m not here about the case. Not officially. I’m here to call in the favor you owe me.”

  In the back of my mind, I think I always believed that Grady Sherwin would never call in the favor I owed him. I’d made the deal back when Mark was accused of murder. We needed some old case files to prove him innocent, and Grady turned out to be the only one who could get them for us. Now, I felt like I was trapped in the old TV show Once Upon a Time, and Rumpelstiltskin had come to collect.

  I’d keep my word, but I still had to question Grady’s timing. Unless someone was dying—in which case he needed a doctor, not me—it was rude to show up at someone’s house in the middle of the night. “And the favor couldn’t have waited until morning?” I asked.

  “No.” Grady lightly shoved the door, and Mark stepped back out of his way.

  The next thing I knew, Grady Sherwin stood in my living room—a place I’d never expected to see him.

  Which meant I needed to accept the inevitable. The sooner I heard his favor, the sooner he’d get out of here.

  I held my hand out in the direction of the kitchen table. “Then you might as well sit.”

  I could almost hear my mom lecturing me about rudeness across all the miles. The one thing that gave me solace was that she’d also lecture Grady for showing up like this in the first place.

  Grady sat telephone pole-straight in the chair and crossed his heavily muscled arms. Not for the first time, I was struck by the fact that he must do a lot more weightlifting than cardio in the gym to have so many muscles and yet still have a belly that made him look six months pregnant.

  “The skeleton you found belonged to Lee Mills,” Grady said.

  He had to be joking. He shouldn’t be telling me anything like that.

  Mark’s mouth drooped open, then snapped shut.

  Grady was telling the truth about the name. Was the favor that I not report him for breaching confidentiality?

  “Okay…” I stretched the word out. My stomach had started to feel hard and tight, like the lining had magically transformed into old leather. “Where does the favor come in?”

  If Grady had murdered this Lee Mills, I wasn’t taking the fall for him. When I’d agreed to the favor, I’d also told him whatever it was had to be legal. Which, in hindsight, wasn’t actually fair. He had done something borderline illegal for me. But still.

  Besides, no one would believe I’d done it. I had no connections to Fair Haven that long ago.

  The look Grady gave me said Are you stupid or something? “They’re going to accuse my sister of killing him, and she’ll need a lawyer.”

  Hadn’t seen that one coming. Normally this was where I gave a spiel about how I only defended innocent people. I couldn’t do that this time. Like it or not, I owed Grady. Regardless, I’d need to know.

  “Did she do it?” I asked.

  Grady’s stare hardened into a glare. “That shouldn’t matter for our deal.”

  Most people I liked more the longer I knew them. That definitely couldn’t be said about Grady. “It doesn’t. But you defend an innocent person differently than you do a guilty one.”

  Some of the cold iron left his expression. “You’ll have to ask her, then.”

  The look on Mark’s face said we shouldn’t have opened the door. He got to his feet. “If this is about the case, I can’t be here. Conflict of interest.”

  I wanted to shoot Mark a look that said traitor since he technically owed Grady for the favor he’d done as much as I did, but Mark was right. He couldn’t be here.

  “I need to head to bed anyway,” Mark said.

  And just like that, I went from anticipating one of the perks of married life to having to stay up late with one of my least favorite people in Fair Haven. The only person I liked less was Ashley from Tom McClanahan’s office.

  My mom’s voice, though, was back in my head, admonishing me to offer him a cup of coffee. Unfortunately, Mark’s mom would probably agree with her on that one.

  I stood. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “I’d take a beer.”

  I was going to assume that meant he was scared for his sister and didn’t know how to admit it. But I couldn’t accommodate him. “Anything nonalcoholic?”

  Grady raised both eyebrows as if to say Really? Like he thought I was criticizing him even though I wasn’t.

  “Coffee’ll just keep me awake,” he said.

  I thought staying awake was the idea. If this took much longer, I was going to need some coffee. And tomorrow I’d need it pumped into my veins through an IV to stay awake.

  At least neither of the mothers could say I hadn’t tried to be hospitable.

  I sank back into my seat. “Why don’t you tell me why you think the police will suspect your sister?”

  3

  Grady pushed away from my table, scrapping his chair across the floor. “I’ll take you to her, and you can ask her whatever questions you need to.”

  I glanced at the clock. Was his sister Dracula that she’d still be up in the middle of the night? Mark and I had only still been awake because of how his schedule sometimes worked as the only medical examiner for a spread-out county.

  I waved Grady back to his seat. “Why don’t you tell me why you think she needs my help, and then we’ll talk to her in the morning?”

  He crossed his arms again, reminding me a bit of a pouty little boy. “Tomorrow might be too late. If they bring her in first thing tomorrow, she might say something stupid. We need to go tonight.”

  Forget feeling like I’d made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin. I was starting to feel like I was Rumpelstiltskin. In the TV show, he’d been controlled by a magical dagger. I was controlled by a promise I made.

  I texted Mark to let him know where I was going.

  Chicken, a voice whispered in my head.

  I was a chicken. If I went to tell him in person, I was worried he’d be annoyed that I was heading out into the night. But Grady was waving my promise in my face, and if I didn’t keep my word, what did that say about me?

  Besides, I just wanted this to be over with. Odds were good I’d talk to his sister and find out Grady had been overreacting. Where that would leave us with our deal, I didn’t know. I could probably make a good case that I’d fulfilled my promise at that point.

  To my surprise, Mark texted back with We did make a deal. At least once this is over, it won’t be hanging over your head anymore. Be safe.

  I did love that man.

  Grady insisted I ride with him. I would have argued except that I’d reached the point where I was probably too tired to be safe to drive myself back home.

  He drove us through the center of town and out the other edge to a duplex on the outskirts of town. It was still technically within the town limits, but just barely. Fields started after the house beside it. Th
e car in the driveway looked older than my elderly dog, Toby.

  Grady shut off his car.

  The drive here had been in silence since he hadn’t seemed to want to discuss the situation, and I was too queasy to make small talk. I’d be glad when this stomach bug had found its way out of my system completely. Then again, it might have just been due to Grady’s driving. He took the corners fast and sharp like he thought he needed to practice in case he ever found himself in a high-speed chase.

  Now that we were here, though, I needed to know what he expected from me. “Should I wait here while you let her know what’s going on?”

  “I called her earlier about Lee. And if you stay here, I’ll have to come back out into the cold to get you.”

  He got out and shoved his door shut.

  Heaven forbid he have to be out in the cold more. He’d hauled me out of my warm house, when I’d been headed for my warm bed, into a night where my nose hairs froze.

  But none of that was his sister’s fault, and he was about to wake her up, too. I’d do what he wanted so everyone could get back to bed as soon as possible.

  I trailed him up the driveway. He rang the doorbell twice, in a way that made me wonder if it was a signal or a pattern they’d established.

  Faint light filtered through the patterned glass of the front door from somewhere deep in the house. A shadowy figure moved toward us, and the door popped open.

  The woman on the other side wore a pale purple bathrobe. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but one side was messed up and pulled loose. It seemed like my guess about the special way Grady rang the door had been right. Presumably had she thought she was answering the door for anyone else, she would have smoothed her hair back.

  “Is it Mom?” she asked. “Why didn’t you call?”

  The look on her face said she expected the kind of news that you didn’t give over the phone if you had any other choice. She obviously didn’t connect our visit with Grady’s earlier call about Lee Mills’ remains.

 

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