“His arraignment is tomorrow, but he won’t be going anywhere.”
“Because of the murder charge?”
“Got it in one.”
“Did Crash contest the charge?” I persisted.
“Doesn’t matter. The high-powered weapon used, the double tap, the gunpowder residue, and Sonny’s statement seal the deal. Even if the judge wanted to be lenient, Mowrey is a flight risk. He’s not from here, nor does he have deep ties to our community.”
“Did you check out his former address in Florida?”
“It’s an empty lot.”
“Bummer. What about his prints? Get anything on them or Deena’s?”
“Nothing yet. Sonny’s pickup was purchased at Bill’s Used Cars over by the spur. Paid cash. Another dead end.”
“I wish I could help. Deena speaks with a Southern accent. If she’s faking it, she’s good.”
“Even if they’re Southern, that won’t narrow the search parameters enough for a speedy result. That distinction covers the lower Atlantic Seaboard and all the Gulf states.”
Something clicked in my head. “You said Sonny’s car was purchased here. What about Deena’s cherry red sports car?”
“Good point. I can follow up tomorrow.”
I hurried to my computer at the kitchen table. “I downloaded my pictures from today. I took one of Deena leaning against her car. Let me see if I got the tag.”
Ike set the pan on a cool burner and crossed over to stand behind me. My fingers trembled with excitement. Would my photograph provide the missing link for this case?
Finally, I located the image. Even though I zoomed in on the license plate, Deena blocked most of it. “Rats. I was hoping I had something for you.”
“I can get the plate number from the tag office.” He placed his hand on top of mine and moved the mouse. “Zoom in again.”
“The dealer’s name,” I said as the metallic script writing came into focus. “You’re a genius. It says Portside Imports. Wonder where that is.”
We searched for the name online but came up with furniture stores. Adding “autos” to the search parameters netted us a promising lead in Florida.
“I’ll call that dealership in the morning,” Ike said, clicking back to the picture and zooming in on Deena’s face. “Send me this, will ya? I’ve never seen this pink-haired woman before. I want to copy the pic to my guys and ask if anyone’s seen her.”
I wrangled the computer back from him and emailed the photo. “Done.” Another thought occurred to me. People with no past were that way for a reason. What if they were hiding themselves?
“You’re doing it again,” Ike said.
“Oh. Sorry. Just thinking about why people wouldn’t have a past. What if Sonny and Deena are in Witness Protection? Will these probes put them in harms’ way?”
“You’re complicating things again, but I can reach out to the U.S. Marshalls and ask. That inquiry alone will put their faces and prints in more databases, but the likelihood of them being in the program are small. They would’ve reached out to their contact as soon as I brought Sonny in yesterday.”
Rats. His logic trumped my guesses every time. I sighed. “You’ve felt it too, the gut sense something’s not right with them. Sonny shot someone, so he’s dangerous.”
“He’s also behind bars and not going anywhere,” Ike said, turning back to the stove and spooning our dinner onto plates.
“Deena’s a loose cannon. I don’t trust her.” I struggled to articulate my growing sense of urgency. “Can you send her picture to the deputies and contact the Marshall’s Office tonight?”
Ike carried our plates to the dining room. “We’re eating first. I’ll zip back to the office to email those inquiries after dinner.”
I followed with our iced tea. “You can use my computer.”
“Best if I keep investigative queries on the office system. I don’t want to do anything that might give the opposition the edge in a trial.”
“You think Crash has a shot at getting Sonny off?”
“Crash is determined to make his mark on the world. All the trouble we got into as kids? Crash was the idea guy. If there’s a way to spin this to his advantage, he’ll do it.”
“Sounds like you want him to win.”
“You’re mistaking insight for admiration. Crash has an advantage over other lawyers. He knows better than anyone exactly how I think.”
“In that case, Deena made a smart move in hiring him.”
“I’ll say.”
Chapter 10
I was standing beside Ike’s office chair when he read his fingerprint search result. Deena’s prints were in the system because she’d applied to be a foster parent six years ago. They belonged to a woman named Peggy Lou Gray. No criminal record was found. Further searches of her name revealed a former Mobile, Alabama, address, a concealed carry permit in Alabama, and her divorce record from a man named Lowell Gray.
“Another Alabama connection!” I whooped with joy. “We’re getting somewhere. This can’t be a coincidence.”
“I’m not fond of coincidences myself,” Ike muttered, clicking through screens. He pulled up the most recent driver’s license for Ms. Gray. We leaned forward to study the photo. Her brown eyes were the same as Deena’s, but the hair was a dark brown, the chin a little more pointed, and the nose more of a blade shape.
“No pink hair,” I observed. “Peggy Lou looks nothing like Deena.”
“Don’t be so quick to rule it out. The height, weight, and eye color match,” Ike said. “Meanwhile, I’ll send the two images to a friend who has access to facial recognition software.”
“You think this is the same woman? Seems more likely there’s an error on the print match.”
“Biometrics don’t lie. The different aspects are cosmetic.” He clicked a few more keys, opened a form, and typed, impressing me with his rapid-fire keyboarding skills.
“There,” Ike said, leaning back in his chair, a satisfied look on his face. “I requested day shift to bring Deena in tomorrow for questioning.”
“Good luck. She is scared to death of stepping foot in this building.”
“Which means she’s got secrets.”
“If Deena is Peggy Lou’s assumed name, Sonny might be an alias as well. Otherwise, there’s no reason for them to be hiding.”
“We’ve been running Sonny’s prints through the system for over twenty-four hours. I added Mobile and Alabama to his keyword search. If he’s there, I’ll get a hit.”
I mulled the case facts in my head. Sonny shot and killed John Starling with a high-powered rifle. Sonny’s wife’s fingerprints belonged to a woman named Peggy Lou Gray. Peggy Lou and John were both from Alabama. The victim’s brother believed John was about to come into money. My cousin sold Sonny and Deena a house here, and they paid in cash. Uncle Henry said Sonny and Deena had minimal funds in the local bank.
“What about sending Sonny’s picture and prints to the Mobile, Alabama, sheriff? Someone there might recognize him on sight.”
“Mobile’s a big city, but it’s worth checking.” Ike typed the email address of Mobile’s Sheriff Joe Webster. A few minutes later, that email went out as well. “We’ve covered our bases. Ready to go home?”
“Yes.”
In Ike’s Jeep, he turned to me. “Anyone ever tell you that you have a brilliant mind? You should’ve gone into law enforcement.”
“Don’t think so. Chasing down bad guys isn’t my thing. I’m in the right career as a journalist.”
He considered that for a long moment as we rolled homeward, his headlights illuminating a narrow swath of River Road. “Ever think about writing murder mysteries?”
I stared at the darkness outside my window. I’d been lost before and hadn’t known I was marking time. Coming home and connecting with Ike changed everything. What I’d found was too precious to lose chasing rainbows.
I placed my hand on his thigh. “I like my career. I tried on another life, and I didn’
t like it very much. This is who I am, and I’m content with my choices.”
He grinned. “Good answer.”
Chapter 11
After dropping Trent at school the next morning, Ike’s sister brought my dog to the office. “We had a good night,” Alice Ann said. “All Trent could talk about was the awesome meals at your house.”
I stooped to give Bailey a hug, and she licked my face before waddling off to mooch treats from Ellen in the front office. “I assist Ike in the kitchen. He’s the real chef. Trent is a good eater, so it’s a good fit.”
Alice Ann hugged me, released me, and hugged me again. “I’m so glad you and my brother are together. I’ve never seen Ike happier, and Trent is acting like a carefree young boy for a change. I’m over the moon you two are a couple. I mean a family. I mean . . .”
I didn’t know where she was going with this, but since it sounded personal, I closed the door and lowered my voice. “It’s okay, Alice Ann. I’m in love with your brother. I’m not using him as a meal ticket like Annette did. I won’t chew him up and spit him out in small pieces.”
“I get that, but Ike, he should marry you.” Alice Ann wrung her hands. “I’ve told him that. Mama’s told him that. Ike says he doesn’t need a marriage license with you. He swears y’all are married in every other sense of the word.”
“Don’t gang up on him,” I cautioned. Their well-meaning guilt trips could backfire. Ike hated feminine manipulation. “Thanks to his ex, he can’t say the words ‘I love you.’ We nearly broke up because I wanted so badly to hear them. I understand him now. I froze inside when my brother died. Afterward, I went through the paces of life, not trusting anything or anyone. Coming home helped me see that people genuinely cared about me. Ike is on the same path of emotional recovery, but pushing him is wrong. I agreed to buy a house with him, to share his bed and his life, and to be a caring adult in his son’s life. That’s what he wanted from me, so that’s what he’s getting.”
“He loves you,” Alice Ann said, her arms stealing around my shoulders again for another quick hug. “He’s been different since you returned. Different, good, I mean, but Mama raised us better than he’s behaving. She wants and I want for y’all to have a happily ever after and for your home to be full of children.”
The phone rang. I didn’t pick up because my assistant would. “You and Jimmy could give her more grandchildren.”
Alice Ann blushed. “Jimmy’s coming around to the idea of getting hitched. We’ve been friends forever. Frankly, the romance for us is brand new.”
“It looks good on you.” I smiled and remembered I needed to speak to her about another matter. “To change the subject, Ike and I are hosting a family get together on Sunday evening at six. We’re inviting both sides of our families.”
“I’ll tell Mama. We’ll be there.”
“Great.” My office phone buzzed. “Excuse me. I need to pick up.”
“I need to get to work. I’m late for my shift, and the boss appreciates punctuality.”
Alice Ann left, and I answered the call. “He’s trying to kill me,” the female voice hissed in my ear.
“Who is this?” I focused keenly on this woman’s voice.
“You know who it is. I can’t go home. I can’t show my face. I fear for my life.”
It wasn’t Cousin Janey or Aunt Fay. Not Ellen either because she was in the next room, and Alice Ann just left. It wasn’t my mom or Trish, my father’s lady friend.
Satisfied no one in my family was in harm’s way, I risked a breath. “I don’t know who you are, but if you’re in danger, call 9-1-1.”
Ellen stood in my doorway, questions in her eyes. I touched a finger to my lips and then switched the phone to speaker mode. My dog padded in and sat by my chair.
“I can’t. The cops will kill me,” the raspy voice continued. “Don’t you see? I’m a fugitive. I can’t turn to anyone in law enforcement, but I want to tell my story in the Gazette. That way, the world will know what they did to me. My story will be told.”
My pulse kicked into high gear. A source wanted to give me an exclusive interview. Much as I’d love an exclusive story, meeting with a fugitive was risky. I’d be safest if I controlled where we met. “I’ll clear my schedule this morning. Come to the office now and talk.”
“Nooo. Can’t do that. Meet me somewhere, and don’t tell the cops either.”
That whiney tone sounded familiar. Was it Deena Mowrey? How cool if she wanted to tell her secret of why she’d changed her name. “Why should I agree to those terms? I have to think of my safety.”
“No one’s safe in this world. Tell you what. Head north on the highway, and I’ll text you my location.”
“I’m not leaving without my staff knowing my whereabouts. Meet me here or in a public place.”
The line went quiet. “Okay. We’ll do it your way.” The speaker paused. “Meet me at the Mid-County Diner. Come alone. If anyone accompanies you, I won’t show.”
“That restaurant isn’t open this early.”
“It will be today. Get here in ten minutes, or I’m leaving town without talking to you.”
No way was I going without telling Ike. “I need more time. My camera is on the charger, and I have to reassemble it.”
“No pictures. Come now or forget it.”
Another protest rose in my throat, but the line went dead before I uttered a sound.
“Who was that?” Ellen said. “She said it was an emergency.”
“I think it was Deena Mowrey, the wife of the man being held for the hunting accident turned homicide.”
“You’re not meeting her alone, are you?”
“I am.”
“Ike won’t like this,” Ellen predicted.
Ike would have a man-fit, but this was my job. Reporters interviewed sources and wrote stories. I’d bargained for neutral territory and won. Things were moving fast, but I was thinking on my feet.
“I’ll call Ike on the way to smooth things over, and I’ll take my dog. We’re meeting at the crossroads restaurant, for goodness sake. How dangerous could that be?”
Chapter 12
“I don’t know if it’s Deena,” I told Ike as I sped across the county. “Let me get her story. I’ll tape the interview on the phone. Then you can swoop in and arrest her.”
“It must be Deena,” Ike said. “Deputies went to her house this morning. No one was there, and the door was wide open. Her clothes and personal items were gone. Slow down and let me catch you.”
“I have to go alone or she won’t show.”
“I don’t like it.”
“I’m doing my job. She wanted to meet me at an undisclosed location. I suggested my office. We compromised on the Mid-County Diner. Those restaurant gals will already be in the back prepping today’s lunch. If Deena makes one false move, there’ll be witnesses.”
“We don’t know enough about this woman. I can’t guarantee your safety. I’m coming inside with you.”
“I have Bailey.”
“The dog that hides when there’s trouble?” Ike groaned. “How reassuring.”
“Bailey has good instincts. I’ll follow her lead.”
“Not good enough. We know this woman has a concealed carry permit. That means she has a gun. Are you carrying?”
“Of course not. Even if I owned a gun, I wouldn’t carry it.” Guns. I eased up on the gas. Was my life worth an unknown story by an anonymous caller? I’d been too swept up in the moment to even consider a gun might be involved. “I hear what you’re saying, and you’re right. I was blinded by the potential of an exclusive. I’ll slow down, and I’m good with you sitting in on the interview.”
“Great. I’m passing the old airport now, and I’ve also got a patrol car headed your way.”
He was only a few miles behind me. “No sirens.”
“Lady, you drive a hard bargain.”
~*~
I’d never been to Mid-County Diner so early before, but the place looked dead. At
noon, people trolled for parking spots, but I could park anywhere I wanted right now. No lights glowed in the windows of the building. I gulped and parked by the door.
No little red cars in sight. If Deena was here, she’d parked elsewhere. After double-checking that my phone and reporter pad were in my purse, I clipped Bailey’s leash on her collar and stepped out of the car. Lois Lane had nothing on me. I’d get this story, even if I had an Ike shadow.
Bailey darted out of the car, headed straight for the bushes at the far end of the building. I bit back my annoyance while she watered the bushes, then I tried the door. It was locked. I knocked on the door. Nothing.
Where was my caller?
Not here, apparently.
I didn’t like how exposed I felt, standing here, alone. The hair on the back of my neck prickled. Best to wait in the car until Ike arrived, I decided.
Everything happened at once. Bailey bolted to the right, yanking the leash from my hand, pulling me sideways and down. Something bit my arm. I heard a loud noise. The world spun and faded to black.
~*~
I awakened slowly, too tired to open my eyes. My mouth tasted like chemicals, and it was hard to swallow around my thick tongue. A hammer pounded in my head. I heard noises around me. Footsteps. Hushed voices. Felt a pressure and then no pressure on my right arm. Heard the footsteps retreat. So tired. I drifted off.
Mechanical beeps awakened me. Someone breathed loudly in the darkened room. I held my breath to listen and the noise stopped. What was going on? Why couldn’t I remember anything? I tried to move, but my limbs felt like they were made of steel. A sharp jolt of pain lanced my thoughts.
I cried out. The beeps sounded louder, faster. Footsteps again. Hurrying this time. A soft voice murmured something as I slid back into darkness.
~*~
I surfaced again. Heard the beeps. Felt the throb of pain in my left arm and the dull hammering in my head. Recognized my loud breathing and sensed deep shadows in the room. Something had awakened me. Pressure on my right hand. I gripped the lifeline.
Dead Men Tell No Tales Page 4