Whispering Pines Mysteries Box Set 3

by Shawn McGuire

  “So how did you end up here with Flavia?” My mind was scrambling for a way to disarm and subdue him. Ketch was almost a foot taller than me and had a good seventy-five pounds on me despite his weight loss. I was strong, but I couldn’t do anything against him. “Did Flavia call you? Did she tell you the sheriff’s position was yours if you could scare me out of the village?”

  It was a ridiculous concept but might actually be possible. With Flavia, the further away from sense I went, the closer to the truth I got. Regardless of plausibility, I was desperate to distract him with anything I could.

  “I did no such thing.” Flavia moved forward, defending her own honor, stopping midway between Ketch and me. Brilliant. I was holding a gun, Ketch surely had one in his pocket, and Flavia puts herself right into the potential line of fire. “Whispering Pines does need a new sheriff, but the obvious choice is my son. Martin is superior to both of you.”

  Ketch stepped off the porch and closer to her. I tightened my grip on my gun. Meeka stood in front of me, prepared to attack if necessary.

  “It was like I told you,” Ketch said, hand back in his pocket. “I came up here because of Frisky and Elena. I thought it might be a good idea to be with someone who I wouldn’t have to explain everything to first. You know?”

  “I do.” That was why I wanted Reed’s help even though Jagger was capable. “Things got so messed up that day, Ketch. It still haunts me. I’d known for a while how stressed you’d been. I should’ve tried to help you sooner. I’m sorry.”

  “I have nightmares about that day.” He stared at Meeka, his eyes vacant voids, not seeing anything but the past. “I swear, I thought she had a weapon. She was crazy that day. Remember?”

  He was calming down. Good. I took a half step closer, my K-9 moving with me.

  “She loved those two boys so much.” Tavie’s words echoed in my ears. Anyone can fall on hard times, but that doesn’t mean you need to let your life spiral or turn into a thug. “She changed her life after they died. She transformed herself into the angel of her neighborhood.” Another half step. “Remember how the kids talked about Mama Frisky?”

  Ketch nodded, still in the past. “She was messed up that day. Sitting in her car and sobbing like they’d both just died in front of her.”

  “Frisky told me once that she’d go sit in her car, somewhere no one could find her, when she needed to be alone. She wanted to be strong for her ‘cupids.’ That’s what she called the neighborhood kids.” Another half step. “They made her fall in love with them, so they were her cupids.”

  He looked up at me. “I thought she was strung out on something.”

  “She might’ve been. She didn’t have a weapon, though.”

  “I shouldn’t have come to work that day.”

  “I should’ve said something sooner. I knew you were spiraling, Ketch.”

  Wrong thing to say. In the blink of an eye, he had one arm hooked around Flavia’s neck and pulled the gun I’d known was there out of his pocket.

  Without even thinking about it, I reacted and leveled my weapon on my ex-partner. Without even thinking about it. The same reaction he’d had that day a year ago.

  “You never should have said anything,” Ketch hollered. “You should’ve kept your mouth shut. It all would’ve gone away. Everyone would’ve forgotten about Frisky Fox, and my life would be fine.” He nodded at my weapon. “You gonna shoot me, Jayne?”

  “I don’t want to. Why don’t you lower your weapon and let Flavia go? You need help, Ketch.” My mind searched for something, anything to distract him with. “Remember that missing UW student we found that time? My grandma’s friend called and told me we’d find her in the duck blind in the woods across the street from her apartment. Remember her?”

  He clutched Flavia tighter, and she closed her eyes, her lips moving silently. “I remember her.”

  “Her name is Jola Crain. She lives here now and works at our health clinic. She’s really good, Ketch. Jola will find you the best possible care.”

  Again, wrong thing to say.

  “You want my kids to think I’m mental?” He held the gun to Flavia’s head, and she cried out in fear. A scream rose from the cluster of her neighbors behind me.

  “You might as well shoot me.” There was a desperate, pleading tone in his voice now. “I can’t let my kids think I’m crazy. Shoot me, O’Shea. Tell them I went down fighting crime like a superhero.” He blinked once, twice. “They love superheroes.”

  I had a clear shot. It would’ve been easy to put a bullet right into his abdomen. Too easy. He’d left his center mass exposed for me to hit. He was as worked up as Frisky had been that day, ranting and not making sense. Not that any of that mattered. I couldn’t do it. Despite the risk to Flavia, an innocent civilian, I couldn’t shoot my partner. More death wasn’t the answer to the problems here.

  “Randy, please. Let her go. We’ll work this out. I promise.”

  Flavia called out, “Just shoot him. If anything happens to me, you’ll—”

  Before she could complete her threat, a man darted out of the crowd and grabbed hold of her. He yanked Flavia downward, freeing her from Ketch’s arm, and tossed her aside. A half-second later, Martin Reed had Randy on the ground with his knee in the center of his back.

  Chapter 28

  The cluster of neighbors went into action. The majority backed away, clearing a path for those most able to help. Someone pressed a foot to Randy’s hand while another kicked the gun away. Someone else helped Reed hold Randy down by sitting on his legs. Meeka joined Reed on Randy’s back.

  “Got a pair of zip cuffs on you, Sheriff?” Reed asked.

  I pulled them out of a cargo pocket, unsure which of the things that had happened in the last thirty seconds stunned me more. Ketch begging me to shoot him while holding a gun to Flavia’s head. Flavia’s unfinished threat to me if I didn’t shoot him. Reed deciding to be a deputy again at just the right moment. Or the villagers, once again, coming together as a unit to make a difference. That last one didn’t stun me. It made me proud.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked Reed after we’d shoved Ketch into the back of the station van and zip tied one of his feet to a metal loop bolted to the floor.

  “Aunt Reeva told me something was going down over here. She burst into my cottage and told me to get over here as quickly as possible.”

  She hadn’t driven. How did she get to Reed so quickly? Maybe the Whispering Pines witches really could fly. Or Reeva Long could run a four-minute mile. At this point, neither situation would surprise me.

  “Guess it’s a good thing you hadn’t turned in the van yet, hey?”

  Reed shoved his hands in his pockets. “You knew I was coming back.”

  “Honestly, I wasn’t sure. I’m really glad you did, though. For many reasons.”

  He kicked at a pebble with the toe of his boot. “I’m still stinging a little over the whole Lupe thing.”

  “I know—”

  “But,” he interrupted, “I thought about what you said. I made a commitment to you and the village. You didn’t have to let me come back after Sheriff Brighton died. I don’t take that second chance lightly. I won’t let you down again.”

  “Good.” A sense of relief flooded me. At least I was back on track with him. “You’re a good man, Reed. I’m proud to have you as my partner.”

  The tops of his cheekbones flushed pink. “You want me to take him over to the station and start the booking?”

  “Please. Call Deputy Atkins soon as you get there and tell him we caught the envelope guy.” I glanced at Flavia, who was still brushing dirt off her cloak from when her son had thrown her to the ground. “I have to talk with your mother.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Better you than me.”

  I went over to the woman who had been like a splinter I couldn’t dig out for the last six months. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll have a few bruises, I’m sure, but I’m alive. No thanks to you.”


  Let it go, Jayne. Don’t lower yourself to her level. “I need to speak with you, Flavia. Would you like to go over to the station, or should we talk here?”

  She looked at me with pinched lips and then turned toward her cottage. “Here is fine. I don’t need the neighbors gossiping about anything else today.”

  Inside, Flavia scowled at Meeka, who stared up at her from three feet away, as she waited for tea water to boil. Without asking, Flavia set a cup in front of me as we sat at her little dining table. In a very twisted way, Flavia and I had formed a relationship. It wasn’t anywhere near comfortable, and we were far more antagonistic than friendly, but there was a familiarity between us now that meant we could do away with formalities.

  Before I could say anything, Flavia blurted, “Were you going to let him shoot me?”

  I wanted to say no. If Reed hadn’t stepped in, I wanted to believe that the professional me would have risen above the me that felt constantly picked on by the schoolyard bully. If forced to be honest, I’d have to admit to an upsetting moment during the incident where I thought that if Flavia was gone, a lot of the darkness would lift from the village. That was a gamble, though. Nothing around here was certain. And I didn’t really want Flavia dead, for Reed’s sake if nothing else.

  “You’re fine, that’s what matters.”

  A flash of pain shadowed her face. Apparently, she’d expected me to say, “Of course I wouldn’t have let the bad man shoot you.” Did she really think she could be so nasty and people would still want to come to her rescue? Pushed far enough, the bullied fought back.

  “Tell me the chain of events with Randy.”

  She sipped her tea. “I met him at Ye Olde Bean Grinder.”

  I’d forgotten about that. It felt like it had been weeks since the sister altercation rather than only a few days.

  “Planning ways to torment your sister, were you?”

  “Perhaps.” Flavia sniffed. “That’s neither here nor there. Mr. Ketchum walked into the shop, ordered a coffee, and asked if anyone knew where he could find you. Basil gave him directions to both the station and Pine Time. Then Mr. Ketchum sat to drink his coffee.”

  “And you started a conversation with him?”

  “I asked him what business he had with you, and he informed me that he used to work with you. That led to a discussion about where the two of you worked and when.”

  “Sheriff Brighton told you about how things had played out for Randy and me. Didn’t he?”

  “He did.”

  “So you knew we had parted on shaky terms.”

  “I was aware.”

  “Randy said he came here because it was the anniversary of Frisky’s death. He has a conversation with you and suddenly changes direction? The first card was waiting for me at the station when I brought you there that day. There wasn’t enough time for him to meet with you, print out that card, and deliver it before we got there. Your version of events doesn’t add up.”

  Flavia focused on her tea and wouldn’t respond. That’s because, once again, she was involved with a coverup.

  “What did you tell him, Flavia?”

  I waited out the silence until she said, “I didn’t intend for him to threaten Tripp.”

  But it was fine for him to torment me with creepy cards. I enunciated each word this time. “What did you tell him?”

  “I explained that we all knew about the shooting because you told everyone he went off the deep end that day.” The corners of her mouth turned up. “He didn’t like that.”

  “I told very few people here about the incident. I certainly never talked with you about it.”

  She lifted her shoulders in a little oopsie, silly me shrug. “I told him I could only imagine what kind of a detective you must have been because you were a poor excuse for a sheriff. The village has slid further and further into turmoil since you started wearing the badge, and you seem to feel that you can do whatever you want regardless of what’s right.” She paused, sipped, and smiled deeper. “Digging up long-buried things just so you can appear to be some kind of hero in the end.”

  I had unintentionally uncovered festering wounds from the past that needed healing. That certainly wasn’t for my benefit. Priscilla Page had died, and the truth of how needed to come out. Same with my grandmother’s death.

  “I have no interest in being a hero, Flavia.”

  The statement didn’t sound as strong as I’d intended, and Flavia picked up on that.

  “Mr. Ketchum didn’t seem very surprised by the revelation. Considering how you put your own needs above his last year.” She added more tea to her cup, then sugar and a splash of milk, her infuriating little smile growing stronger by the second. “I guess it depends on the direction from which you’re looking at things. You have a habit of doing whatever you feel is best regardless of which side of the line your actions land on. For the record, I had nothing to do with the envelopes or anything else he may have done after leaving the Bean Grinder that day. I mean, he has been staying in my guest room, so I knew what he was up to. I neither encouraged nor condemned his behavior, however.”

  “Just like you were innocent of Donovan’s involvement in Gran’s death? And Rae’s in Priscilla’s?”

  She glared at me over her teacup.

  “What were you expecting would come from this?” I asked. “Did you think threats would make me leave the village?”

  “Not at all. I am curious where your breaking point is, however.” Unsaid was that she planned to keep pushing. “I thought it might be Tripp. Seems I was mistaken. Of course, he is capable of fighting for himself.” Her eyes lowered to Meeka.

  I pulled my hands away from my untouched tea and folded them in my lap. I didn’t want her to see how badly they were shaking with fury.

  “You do understand that I’m the only person between the people here being able to stay in this village and everyone having to pack up and move. Don’t you?”

  She sighed as though bored. “I’m aware. You’ve told me before.”

  “And you still think it’s a good idea to upset me?”

  There was that annoying little shrug again.

  “I won’t let a handful of thugs in this village take everyone else down.” I changed the topic before saying something I might regret. Such as reminding her about the fine print giving O’Shea family members the authority to overrule the council. Best to keep that little nugget tucked safely away. “Did you pay the man in Duluth to pretend to be Donovan?”

  She tilted her head, confused. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  This time I believed her, which was frustrating. “Do you know where Donovan is?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “Have you known where he’s been at any time since he escaped custody?”

  She set her cup daintily on its saucer and clasped her hands on the table. “Yes.”

  I could start demanding she tell me where he was. I could threaten her with an obstruction of justice charge. I could have said or done a lot of things at that moment. Instead, I pushed away from her table and stood.

  “This is good information to have, Flavia. As always, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

  Chapter 29

  It was mid-afternoon by the time Reed finished the paperwork on Ketch. I let him handle the interview on this one. I was far too close to it. I did sit in on it, though.

  “When did you first come into contact with Flavia Reed?” he asked.

  “A few months ago,” Randy responded. “End of July, I think. She contacted me.”

  That was right after I’d exposed the truth about Priscilla’s death and Flavia’s involvement in it. The timing made sense. Flavia had been furious I’d resurrected the event. There was no way she would’ve been able to stop herself from retaliating somehow.

  “Why did she contact you?” Reed asked.

  Randy shrugged. “She said she knew about my history with Jayne and had some information she thought I’d find interesting.”


  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning the rash of murders Sheriff O’Shea seemed incapable of doing anything about.”

  Reed shifted slightly. “Is that why you came here? To help with the murders?”

  Randy glanced to where I stood in the corner of the room. “No. I couldn’t care less about your village’s problems. I came here because Sheriff O’Shea ruined my life.”

  The spite and anger in his voice when he said my name chilled me.

  “You wanted revenge,” Reed supplied. Before Randy could respond, he asked, “What was the plan? Were you and Ms. Reed in on everything together?”

  Randy snorted a laugh. “No. She wasn’t interested in getting her hands dirty. She told me about the problems with your new sheriff and left it at that.”

  He locked eyes with me.

  I’d never forget the blank look on his face the day he shot Frisky. His eyes had been empty hazel voids. At the moment, they were as cold and nasty as any I’d ever seen.

  He turned back to Reed. “At the end of our first conversation, she gave me her phone number. I wrote it down but basically dismissed her as being some crackpot trying to cause problems. I already had more trouble than I could handle.”

  “What kind of trouble exactly?”

  “Lost my job. Was about to lose my wife and my kids. And I’m probably going to lose my house any day now.”

  Reed leaned casually in his chair. “You don’t really need to worry about that anymore. You’ll be living somewhere else for a while.” He tapped his notebook, returning to his questions. “You said your initial contact with Flavia Reed was in July. When did you next hear from her?”

  Randy shook his head. “I called her.”

  “When was that?”

  “Last month.”