Rooted in Murder

by Emily James

  I crossed my legs. Doing so made me look more feminine, and that often tended to disarm men. “I heard that you and Mr. Mills had an altercation.” I chose my words carefully. Altercation sounded less accusatory than fistfight or even came to blows. “I thought you might have known who else might have had a problem with him.”

  Royce opened one of the desk drawers. The desk shimmied. He swept the paperwork into it. “Throw a baseball out the window and whoever it hits could fit that description. Pretty much everyone in this town was happy to see Lee gone. The kid was nothing but trouble.”

  Adding the whole town to the suspect pool was worse than when only Daphne had been swimming around in it. “Could you give me some examples?”

  He leaned back, and his chair squealed. Everything in his office seemed to need lubrication, including his tongue.

  Calling on my natural naiveté about Fair Haven history might convince him to narrow it down a little. The locals had been suspicious of me when I first arrived, but one thing that had helped was expressing my desire to become one of them. “I’m not from around here, so I’m still learning. Anything you could tell me to help me understand this case better would be appreciated. I feel like I’m playing catch-up because everyone else was here at the time.”

  Royce moved his lips back and forth in a motion that reminded me of someone swishing mouthwash around. “Lee was always destroying something or taking things that weren’t his. He broke into Quantum Mechanics—Tony Rathmell’s place—and smashed out all the windshields in the cars he had in for repairs. One time he hotwired Wayne Huffman’s combine and took it for a joyride. Smashed it up enough that Wayne almost couldn’t get his crop off that year.” He leaned forward and rolled his chair closer to his desk. “Your other last name is Dawes. You related to Stan Dawes?”

  I nodded.

  “Lee and his girlfriend broke into that original sugar shack they had out at Sugarwood before the fire. Trashed the inside and left beer cans everywhere. That receptionist at McClanahan and Associates had her car broken in to by Lee.”

  That receptionist had to be Ashley, since Royce hadn’t said the receptionist who used to work at McClanahan & Associates. The horrible, nasty part of me wished it had been Ashley who killed Lee. Not only would that spare Daphne and pay off my favor to Grady, but it’d stop Ashley from interfering with my legal needs.

  I immediately sent up a prayer for forgiveness. Even if I didn’t like Ashley, I shouldn’t wish prison time on her to make my life easier. Besides, even I couldn’t imagine that Ashley would have killed someone over breaking into her car.

  Royce continued with his list of names. I didn’t recognize all the people on it, but I recognized enough of them that he hadn’t been exaggerating when he said most of the town had been glad Lee vanished. He’d even stolen alcohol from Hops and cleared out the cash register at The Burnt Toast.

  But Quincey hadn’t mentioned any of those people getting physical. “What did he do to you?”

  I kept my voice quiet and sympathetic, as if I were on his side. In some ways, I was.

  Royce gripped the edge of his desk. “I came back after a middle-of-the-night emergency call and found him spray painting a steaming pile of—” He clamped his mouth shut as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to swear in front of a lawyer. “The police weren’t doing anything to stop him. They kept saying there wasn’t enough evidence to prove it was him. What they really meant was his parents had enough money to buy his way out of most of the trouble. I figured I’d teach him a lesson the old-fashioned way, and we’d all sleep better at night.”

  His eyebrows had come down over his eyes, and his voice held a dark edge. Had someone asked me when I first met him if I thought he was a killer, I’d have said that I couldn’t see someone in powder blue coveralls with a smiling plunger on the front killing anyone. Now he reminded me more of an old-time gangster hiding behind a legitimate front.

  He wouldn’t have been the first person I’d dealt with who felt like they had to defend themselves because former Chief Wilson wanted to sweep everything bad under the rug to protect the reputation of the town and former dispatcher Henry McCloud took bribes to cover up crimes.

  But Daphne wasn’t the one who caused all the trouble. She shouldn’t have to go to prison for something she didn’t do, and the police didn’t seem to be looking anywhere else but at her.

  The problem was that Royce also seemed to have a temper under his unassuming exterior, and I didn’t want it directed at me. I still hadn’t gotten anything out of him that might help Daphne’s case.

  I shook my head slowly, sadly. “You took a big risk. The police could have thought that you came back and finished what you started by killing Lee.”

  He smiled at me. Actually smiled. Teeth showing. Eyes crinkling. “Karma. I stood up to a bully that no one else would stand up to, and I lucked out by being out of town when he was killed.”

  Out of town could mean a lot of things. If I was going to show that he had motive, means, and opportunity, I had to prove he was close enough that he could have driven back. “Where did you say you went again?”

  I tried to phrase it as if he’d already told me and I’d forgotten.

  His eyes tightened at the edges. “Florida. About as far away from here as you can get. I flew, too.” He pinned me to my chair with a glare. “If you want my opinion, Lee Mills probably got a taste of his own medicine. Someone tried to steal his car, he thought he was a tough guy and could stop them, and they showed him otherwise.”

  If someone killed Lee over his car, if it was a random carjacking with no other motive, then it would be almost impossible to figure out who killed him. Too much time had passed.

  My mouth went dry enough that I couldn’t help licking my lips. Maybe the car was the key to figuring all of this out.

  The police originally thought that Lee had left town in his car. We now knew that Lee never left town. So where was his car?

  It was possible Royce had done exactly that—Lee had been stealing from others and destroying their belongings, so Royce decided to see how Lee liked the same treatment and it got out of hand. I’d have to get our private investigator to look into whether Royce actually checked in for his flight or not. That was well after 9/11, when all the safety checks around flights tightened. If he hadn’t checked in, there’d be a record of it.

  Whether Royce turned out to be involved or not, the car was the key to figuring out what happened that night.

  Royce pushed to his feet. “I’ve told you everything there is to tell. I’ve got another call to get to.”

  The look he gave me said that if I didn’t get out fast, he was considering helping me leave. The man was a dormant volcano waiting for another chance to erupt.

  I didn’t want to let him know that I was afraid of him, though. Fear suggested I thought he was guilty of something. The last thing I wanted to do right now was tip my hand even more.

  I rose to my feet, channeling as much of my mom’s decorum as I could. Somewhere in my body, I had to have that gene, right? Even if it was recessive.

  I extended my hand to Royce. “Thank you again for your time. You’ve given me a lot of people to follow up on.”

  Royce took my hand, but when I went to finish the handshake, he refused to let go.

  “Just remember that the people you’re looking into are good people. The bad guy is dead, and no one cares what happened to him.”

  My hand went numb for a reason other than that Royce seemed intent on cutting off my circulation. He thought I was working with the police—that I was with the district attorney’s office. That’s why he’d felt he needed to meet with me. “I’m Daphne Scherwin’s defense counsel. I’m interested in defending her, not in hurting innocent people for the sake of a guilty one.”

  He released my hand. Something flickered across his face that I couldn’t interpret. And I wasn’t going to stick around to probe further. I wasn’t in danger, but I was sure Mark would have said I shouldn�
�t have come alone anyway.

  It took every ounce of my self-control to turn my back on him and mosey away like my insides didn’t feel like they were trapped inside a blender.

  I climbed into my car and let the seat do the work of holding me up. I’d promised Daphne that I’d call her with an update today. I hadn’t expected to have much to update her on, but my parents had always taught me that frequent communication with clients kept them calm and helped prevent them from doing anything stupid.

  Before I called her, I wanted to check in with the police and see if they were searching for the car. It would give me something concrete to tell her.

  I dialed Chief McTavish’s number, but my phone beeped in my ear. No signal.

  Fair Haven’s infamous cell phone dead zones likely couldn’t even be blamed this time. My phone was on its last breaths of life.

  While I wouldn’t feel comfortable facing Royce in a dark alley, he wasn’t going to hit me over the head in broad daylight. I crawled back out of my car and wandered around the parking lot until my phone picked up a signal on the far side of Royce’s truck. For a man who hustled me out of his store because he had an urgent call to get to, he was slow off the start.

  I dialed Chief McTavish’s cell number.

  “If you can’t reach your husband, it’s because he’s out at the edge of the county. A transport crossed the center line.”

  I pulled the phone away from my face and squinted at it. I’d called McTavish’s number, and it was his voice, but that had to be the weirdest way to answer I’d encountered yet. Mark had texted me that he was headed out of town, and it wasn’t like I expected to be able to keep tabs on him all day anyway. We both had our own work to do.

  “I wasn’t calling to find out where Mark is.”

  Muffled voices came from the background, as if someone had joined McTavish and he’d covered his phone with his hand.

  I waited.

  “I couldn’t think of another reason,” McTavish said when he returned, “for the lawyer of a person of interest in an open investigation to be calling me.”

  Ahh. I got it. Chief McTavish had been a member of Internal Affairs for years. His final assignment for IA was what brought him to Fair Haven. He’d asked to be allowed to stay on as Fair Haven’s chief of police because his wife was tired of moving and being unsure of who she could trust. All those years of making sure other police officers hadn’t crossed the line meant he kept the line for himself drawn in concrete.

  The only way to remove a line from hardened concrete was with acid or a jackhammer. I didn’t want to take either of those nuclear options with McTavish. We needed to maintain a good working relationship. For my future clients’ sakes, and for Mark’s. I’d already made things confrontational enough during Daphne’s interview.

  Still, finding that car was crucial. He might not tell me anything, but by asking, I’d at least plant the idea in his head. “I know there’s not much you’re able to tell me, but I was hoping you could confirm you’re looking for Lee Mills’ missing car.”

  Silence filled the other end of the line. I used to think Erik was married to procedure. That was before I met McTavish.

  I could hear him breathing, so I knew he was still there and the silence wasn’t because my phone had died. Yet.

  “Fine. You don’t have to tell me anything. Please just look for the car if you’re not already. If you can find out what happened to it, I think we’ll find out what really happened to Lee.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement,” McTavish said. “Goodbye, Ms. Fitzhenry-Dawes-Cavanaugh.”

  He disconnected, but I could have sworn I heard a smile in his voice before he did.

  I turned around to head back to my car and stumbled to a stop.

  Royce stood by his front bumper. He’d heard everything.

  8

  Crap. Crap, crap, and double crap. If Royce had anything to do with Lee Mills’ death, I’d now given away my advantage. He knew I was hunting for the car, and he knew I wanted whoever I’d been talking with to hunt for the car. He ran his own successful business, so I had to assume he was a smart man. He’d be able to guess I’d been talking to the police.

  I waved at him and strode past like I didn’t care if he’d overheard me or not. “Have a nice rest of your day.” I added an extra dollop of cheerful to my voice.

  I still owed Daphne an update, but I wasn’t going to stand around Royce’s property and give it to her. I’d given away enough already.

  I drove down the street and parked in the parking lot for the shopping center that housed the optician, dentist, and chiropractor’s office. I’d always found it ironic that Fair Haven had an optician—who could sell and fix glasses—but not an optometrist—who could tell you that you needed them.

  I entered Daphne’s cell number.

  “Hello?” Daphne’s voice said.

  “It’s Nicole. Is now a good time to talk? It won’t take long.”

  “Nicole? I can’t hear you. You’re cutting in and out.”

  I was sitting still, and my phone showed plenty of service bars. The tech had clearly been wrong about what the problem was. “I was just calling to update you.”

  “I can’t hear you. I’m at home. You could try the land—”

  I checked my phone screen. Even though I hadn’t moved, my phone had lost the signal completely. You had to be kidding me. That was it. This phone had to go.

  Daphne’s duplex was along the route I’d take to head to the town where I could buy a new phone. I might as well stop on my way by.

  A second car took up the space in Daphne’s driveway when I pulled up. It wasn’t Grady’s. I’d seen him coming and going from the Fair Haven police lot enough times to recognize his personal vehicle. The one sitting behind Daphne’s car did look a bit familiar, though.

  I rang the bell.

  Daphne opened the door. “What are you doing here?”

  Even though my update wouldn’t take long, I did want to ask her some questions about Lee’s car. I could have our firm’s private investigator see what he could find, along with looking into Royce’s travel records.

  My questions, however brief, would take too long for me to do from the front steps. I was already starting to shiver.

  “We need to talk about your case.” I inclined my head. “Inside.”

  Daphne glanced back over her shoulder. “It’s not a good time. I had to take Gina to the ER this morning for an infection, and she really needs quiet to rest.”

  She made it sound like I was bringing a marching band inside with me.

  I stopped a second before looking back over my shoulder at the second car. Doctors didn’t make house calls even in Fair Haven. She didn’t want me to meet whoever was in the house with her.

  “I’ll be quick and quiet, but it can’t wait.” I patted my pocket. “I tried to call, but my phone died.”

  Daphne backed up one slow step at a time. I lunged through the door and dropped my coat and shoes before she could change her mind.

  Case Hammond rounded the corner. “Who was at the—” His gaze landed on me, and he cursed.

  This was the last place I’d expected to find Case Hammond hiding from me. “I guess that confirms that you were avoiding my calls on purpose.”

  He moved over next to Daphne. “You don’t have to let her in even if she is your lawyer. I told Grady she’d stick herself into parts of your life that had nothing to do with the case. He didn’t listen to me.”

  Seriously. He acted like I’d hung his boxer briefs up on the station flag pole. All I’d ever done to him was pretend to be a secretary in distress who was afraid of getting in trouble with her boss. Actually, when I thought about it, it was a bit of a slimy move. He could have gotten in trouble for it. Given the state of things at the time, if no one believed his story, he could have been fired or arrested.

  Daphne clapped her hands once, sharply. Both Case and I swiveled to face her.

  “Keep your voices down or I
’m kicking both of you out.” Her words came out with a hiss to them.

  She had said her daughter was sick and resting. Now I felt like an even bigger jerk. Case was already apologizing.

  Daphne raised her hand, and he stopped. “I’m not going to referee you two the way I have to Grady and my mom. I’d like you both to stay, but I can’t take the stress of more bickering.” Her voice cracked on the end.

  She was right. My parents would have suspended me for acting that way in front of a client. It didn’t matter how Case acted. I had to remain professional. There was no reason for me to get overly emotional like this.

  “I’m sorry, too,” I said. “If you’re still willing, I have a couple of things I need to discuss with you about the case. I think I have a lead that will help prove that someone else killed Lee.”

  Daphne led the way into the living room. Case followed along behind her, his hand up at her back level but not touching her. It spoke to a familiarity, but also told me they weren’t in a romantic relationship. If they had been, he would have placed his hand on her back.

  Daphne didn’t offer me anything to drink even though two mugs sat on the coffee table. She and Case had been having a cup of tea or coffee together before I arrived. Empty plates dusted with crumbs suggested they’d also eaten lunch together.

  I perched on the edge of the couch. Hopefully that would reassure her that I didn’t intend to stay long. No sounds came from the nearby baby monitor, so at least our earlier argument hadn’t woken her daughter after all.

  Case sat in the arm chair, but Daphne stayed standing.

  I folded my hands in my lap. “I’m following a lead on Lee’s car. I think that if we can find it, we can find the person who killed him. Can you remember any details about it? The color? The model? The license plate?”

  Daphne’s gaze shifted in Case’s direction. It was so slight I might have imagined it. “It was red.” She brought her shoulders up, but they were almost too tight to be considered a shrug. “I’m not a car person. I can’t say more than that.”