“Was this where Aaron Grady was killed?” she asked.
“Possibly,” Emma said. “What I wanted you to see is over here.”
There was a wide metal cabinet in the corner. A broken combination lock hung off one of its handles. The double doors were ajar but not open. Emma pulled on a blue latex glove that Ted handed her and gently opened the cabinet.
On the inside of the door on the right was a collage. It was all pictures and paper mementos of Lindsey. She blinked. There was the scratch piece of paper on which she’d written the call number for roses. There were close-up photos of her face, one in which she was frowning at a book she was reading and one in which she was laughing. There were pictures of her biking through town and a bookmark that she used while at the reference desk that she’d thought she’d misplaced. There was a large photo of her in a bridal gown from the day she’d gone gown shopping. It looked as if it had been taken through the shop window. Thankfully, it was not the dress she had chosen to buy. That would have ruined it, but still, it was unsettling. Draped across it all was a long strand of blond hair that was definitely hers.
Lindsey took a step back. She felt a bit woozy. She put her fingers over her mouth, but she wasn’t sure whether she was trying to prevent herself from hyperventilating or keeping a scream in. Grady had been creepy, but this brought home to her just how unhinged the man had been, and even though he was dead, for the first time, she felt very, very afraid of what he might have done, of what could have happened. She stumbled out of the shed, needing to get some air.
“Just give me a second,” she said. Outside, she bent over, trying to calm her racing heart and get some oxygen into her lungs. The stifling scent of the roses wasn’t making her feel any better.
Emma followed her out. She leaned over beside Lindsey and dabbed something under her nose. Lindsey reared back at the sharp smell.
“What is that?”
“Mentholated ointment,” Emma said. “We used it at the police academy when we had to sit in on autopsies. It cuts the smell of just about anything, including roses.” She showed Lindsey the tiny tube in her hand. “I always carry a bit with me, because you never know when you’re going to need it.”
Lindsey took a deep breath through her nose. It helped. She could feel the dizziness dissipate, and she met the police chief’s gaze. “Thanks.”
“Can you go back in there?” Emma asked. “I wanted to ask you about some of the specifics.”
“Yeah,” Lindsey said. She hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.
Ted passed them on their way in. He looked at Lindsey with sympathy and then said, “I’ve got all the photos I need. I’m going to start bagging it for the lab.”
“Just give us a few minutes,” Emma said.
“Take your time,” he said. He walked off to where the van was parked, and Lindsey noticed there were other crime scene people in the house. She wondered how Sylvia was dealing with all of this.
“You ready?” Emma asked.
“Yeah,” Lindsey said.
They moved to stand in front of the cabinet. This time Lindsey was prepared. Emma asked her about each photograph, and Lindsey did her best to try to remember where and when they could have been taken. Emma took notes while she talked. When they were finished, Lindsey glanced at the other door. Not surprisingly, it was a shrine similar to hers, but it was made up of photos of Chloe Weber.
Lindsey looked at the rest of the cabinet. There were no other photos or mementos. She found that odd. She had assumed Grady had stalked more than just the two of them. She glanced at the shelves in the cabinet. There were more tools, some paint, hose fixtures and a watering pitcher. Most of the shelves were dusty or had smears of dirt, all except for the middle one. That one was clean. Lindsey bent down so that she was crouched on the floor.
“Are you all right?” Emma asked.
“Don’t you find it odd that this shelf isn’t as dirty as the others?” Lindsey asked. It was too dark to see in the small space. She glanced up at Emma. “Can I borrow your flashlight?”
Emma crouched down beside her and handed her a small penlight. Lindsey shone it on the underside of the shelf. Staring down at them was an image of a woman dressed in a wedding gown with a small smile on her face. She was pretty with big blue eyes and long blond hair.
Lindsey didn’t know who she was, but she knew who she wasn’t. “That’s not Sylvia.”
“No, it isn’t.” Emma frowned. “Don’t touch it. I’m going to call for Ted.”
Emma stepped into the doorway to call back the crime scene technician. While she had her back turned, Lindsey took a moment to snap a picture of the photo with her phone. Emma hadn’t said not to, and she wanted to study it more closely and see whether she could figure out who this woman was and what she must have meant to Grady. She had delicate features and a cute upturned nose; she seemed young.
As soon as she had a decent picture, Lindsey straightened up and stepped around Emma to stand outside.
“It’s hot in there,” she muttered.
Emma nodded. She was waving at Ted, who raised his arm to signal that he was on his way back.
Lindsey hadn’t been exaggerating. The tiny shed had been oppressive, and she felt as if she couldn’t breathe. The sun was hot, so she took shelter in a small patch of shade to the side of the shed. She wondered about the pretty woman in the photo. Had she been an obsession of Grady’s, too? It seemed likely.
Lindsey studied the picture on her phone and tried to determine the age of the photo by the style of the wedding gown. It was definitely older, with enormous puffy sleeves and a lacy top; the woman’s hair was a big permed mass of curls; and there was an explosion of tulle on the back of her head. Lindsey could tell it was a few decades old at least, but Beth was the wedding expert. She’d be able to pinpoint the year on this, for sure. Lindsey shielded her phone from the glare of daylight to see better. She could tell the photo, which was in color, had begun to fade, another indicator of its age.
She saw Ted coming back, and she slid her phone into her pocket. Emma gave Ted instructions as he joined her in the shed. Lindsey waited. She heard Ted give an exclamation of surprise. In moments, Emma came out to join her, and she said, “Come on—I’ll take you back to town.”
“Thanks,” Lindsey said. She knew from checking her phone that it was time for her to get to work. “You can just drop me off at the library.”
They were quiet as they drove. Lindsey had a million questions, but she had no idea how to ask them without making a nuisance of herself. Contrary to what the chief of police probably believed, Lindsey didn’t mean to be a bother. It was Emma who finally broke the silence when she parked in front of the library and waited while Lindsey gathered her things.
“Lindsey, there’s something I forgot to ask you, and I wanted to clarify it now, if that’s all right.”
“Okay.” Lindsey met Emma’s gaze.
“Did you know that Sully kept his gun locked up in his office?”
“Yes, I did,” she said. She tried to read Emma’s face. Was she just gathering facts, or was there a more specific reason she needed this bit of information? Emma gave her nothing.
“Okay, thanks,” Emma said. She didn’t even flicker an eyelash.
Lindsey slid out of the car. She shut the door behind her and watched Emma drive away, realizing she had just made herself a probable suspect in the murder of Aaron Grady.
CHAPTER
13
Lindsey tried to act as though it were business as usual for the rest of the morning, but she was off her game, as evidenced by the fact that she found herself trying to log on to her cell phone as if it were her computer. She had called Sully after her field trip with Emma, and he had said he’d stop by the library around lunchtime. Lindsey tried not to watch the clock. Tried and failed.
Telling Emma that she knew w
here Sully’s gun was kept felt like an admission of guilt, which was crazy because she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong. But there was no doubt that the pictures of her in Grady’s shed made it look as if she had a pretty big motive to rub out the guy, who was clearly obsessed.
She wondered whether Emma had brought Chloe to look at the pictures as well. Did Chloe look like more of a suspect than Lindsey or Sully? She felt terrible for hoping that the woman did, but she absolutely did.
Then, of course, there was the lone photo on the underside of the shelf. Who was that woman? With Grady dead, was there any way to find out? Would Sylvia know her? The picture had been old, but it was still in the cabinet with the others. It had to have meant something to Grady.
Lindsey shook her head. The whole thing made her feel sordid, as if she was contaminated by his malevolence just by association. Chloe had said he was obsessed with marrying her and that he’d been sending her plans for their wedding. That fell in line with his stalking Lindsey while she was buying a wedding dress, but he was already married, so what was his interest in the two of them? Did he believe in having more than one wife?
She shivered. She wondered whether there would be even more grisly discoveries at the Grady home, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“Hey, darlin’, got a minute?” Sully appeared in the doorway, looking pale and tired. The fine lines around his eyes looked deeper, and he looked like a man who needed a cup of coffee about as desperately as he needed air to breathe.
“For you? Always,” she said.
“Aw, that’s sweet.” Ian popped up behind Sully. “You should marry that girl.”
Ian was short and bald, bespectacled and freckled, but his personality was the friendliest Lindsey had ever encountered. He truly believed a stranger was just a friend he hadn’t met yet, and he could charm even the crankiest person into a laugh or a grin. It was no mystery to Lindsey why Mary, his wife, was completely smitten with him.
“You’re right,” Sully said. “I think I will.”
Lindsey laughed at the pair of them, and realized it was the first time she’d smiled all day.
“What are you two up to?” she asked. She knew Ian wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important, as he should be prepping for the dinner rush at the Blue Anchor.
“We just dropped off the security videos with Emma at the police department,” Sully said.
“But we also made a copy for ourselves just in case we need it,” Ian said. “You can’t be too careful in a case like this.”
Lindsey thought about the picture she’d taken of the mystery woman. “Agreed.”
Sully met her gaze. “When we were at the station, we saw some of the pictures from Grady’s shed. Are you all right?”
Lindsey shrugged. “I will be.”
“Especially when they catch whoever did this,” Ian said. “Speaking of which, we have something to show you.” He pulled a thumb drive out of his pocket. He gestured to her computer, and Lindsey waved him in.
“Go for it,” she said. While Ian set it up, she turned to Sully and asked, “Did you see anything significant?”
“I’m going to leave it to you to decide,” he said.
“All right, we’re ready.” Ian opened the drive and then the file they wanted her to see.
It took the computer a moment to read the file, but then a video filled the screen. It was grainy, but Lindsey could make out the exterior of Sully’s office. As she watched, the front door opened, and Ronnie, recognizable by her big hairdo, and a man Lindsey didn’t know walked out of the office. They moved to the edge of the pier and were deep in conversation when another person walked down the pier toward the shop. The person paused. Then resumed walking. Lindsey gasped. She recognized the way the man kept his head at an odd angle while he walked. It was Aaron Grady.
Both Sully and Ian turned to ask her what she’d seen, but Lindsey held up her hand. She wanted to keep watching. She wanted to be sure.
Grady slipped into the office without Ronnie noticing. He was in the building for mere minutes, and then he was back out and walking down the pier toward town. Ronnie and her companion never noticed him.
“When was this?” Lindsey asked.
“Three days ago. Just before the shooting. Do you recognize the man?” Sully asked.
“Yes, it was Aaron Grady. I’m sure of it.”
“I knew it!” Ian said. He punched his fist in the air. “That guy was obviously up to something, and it went horribly wrong for him.”
“Yes, but what?” Sully asked. “I mean, if it is him and he stole my gun, what was he planning to do? He didn’t commit suicide, because according to Emma, he wasn’t killed behind the library. He was shot somewhere else, and then his body was moved.”
“Which begs another question,” Lindsey said. “Who wanted his death tied to the library?”
“Someone who knew about his altercation with you two and wanted to make it look as if you were involved somehow,” Ian said.
“Have you told Emma that it’s him? That Aaron Grady is the one who stole your gun?” Lindsey asked.
“No, I didn’t want to taint the video for her, and I can’t prove he took the gun,” Sully said. “It shows him going into the office, which we know is empty, but it’s not like we see him going into the safe and taking the weapon.”
“But he did,” Lindsey said. “I know it.” She glanced at Sully, aware of Ian watching them. “What do you think he was going to do with the gun?”
“No idea,” Sully said. He said it quickly, practically tripping over the words to get them out. Lindsey knew he was thinking the same thing she was, but he didn’t want to say it.
“I think he was either going to shoot me and frame you,” she said. “That would have gotten even with both of us, me for not wanting him and you for being in the way. Or he was going to shoot you and probably try to make it look like a suicide, thinking that I would be free to be with him then.” She couldn’t keep the revulsion out of her voice.
Sully reached for her. He hugged her tight, burying his face in her hair and resting his chin in the curve between her neck and her shoulder. She wasn’t sure who was comforting whom, but she’d take it any way she could get it. The thought that either of them might have died at Grady’s hand was too horrible to contemplate.
“Well, I can see you two have things in order here,” Ian said. He cleared his throat and headed for the door. “I’ll just shuffle back to the restaurant, hug my wife and daughter and, you know, never let them out of my sight ever again, not even to go to the bathroom.”
Sully lifted his head with a laugh. “Mary will clobber you if you even suggest it.”
“I might not tell her,” Ian said. He winked at them both and then sobered. “I’m glad you two are all right, but be careful. We don’t know who shot Grady or why, and the nightmare may not be over yet.”
“We will,” Lindsey said.
They watched him leave, and she studied Sully and said, “We need to figure out who the third woman is. She could be our killer.”
“Agreed,” he said. “So what’s the plan?”
“I’m not sure,” Lindsey said. “I think we need to find out everything we can about Aaron Grady—you know, like where he was born and raised, where he went to school, does he have any family? We need to find someone who could tell us about him, someone other than his wife. I want to talk to Chloe and see what she learned about his backstory for her article. Maybe it will point us in the right direction.”
“Unless she’s the killer, in which case it might get us dead,” he said.
“True,” Lindsey said. “We’ll need to bring some backup.”
* * *
• • •
When you said ‘backup,’ this was not what I had in mind,” Sully said. They were cruising amid the islands in his water taxi, headed for Gull Island
.
Lindsey was in the seat beside him, and she looked over her shoulder to see Robbie and Charlie sharing the bench seat in back. The two were at odds, with Robbie’s fair-haired movie-star good looks and Charlie’s rough-and-tumble, messy long black hair that he currently had twisted into a man bun on the top of his head. It was the first time Lindsey had ever gotten a good look at his face, as it was usually covered by a curtain of long, stringy rock-star hair. She realized Charlie was actually quite good looking, in a sweaty boy-band kind of way. The man bun, however, was best ignored. She figured it was the mullet of their age and hopefully would pass into obscurity like duck lips any day now.
She glanced back at Sully and shrugged. “They were available.”
It was late afternoon, and the sun was still high in the sky, baking them with its blistering heat but not burning off the oppressive humidity that lingered in the air. Thankfully, the speed of the boat made enough of a breeze to cool Lindsey’s skin.
“How do you know which house Chloe is staying in on the island?” Lindsey asked.
“My parents are good friends with the Carstairs, who are spending the summer in Tuscany. I figured it has to be them, especially given that their daughter went to Boston University and is about the same age as Chloe,” he said. “It all fit.”
“Nice detective work,” she said.
Sully smiled. “Thanks, I learned how from this librarian I know.”
Lindsey laughed. Oh, he was a charmer, her future husband. Her amusement faded quickly, however, as she recalled that their entire future as a married couple was precariously balanced on the evidence tied to Grady’s murder.
If the gun used was Sully’s, they were up a creek. And if they couldn’t prove that Grady was the one who had stolen the gun from Sully’s office, they were without a paddle. If Emma was forced to arrest Sully based on that evidence, then they were swiftly headed for a waterfall.
The mental image made Lindsey’s heart constrict in her chest. She forced herself to breathe. There was no reason to panic. Not yet. They still had the picture of the third woman to identify and Grady’s past to dig through, both of which could change everything.
Word to the Wise Page 14