There was only one female deputy and she sat in the front row. According to the employment records she was forty-three-year-old Emma Carpenter and had worked as a deputy for the past ten years.
“Good afternoon,” Olivia began briskly. “As all of you probably know by now, I’m Sheriff Olivia Bradford and I’m here to ferret out any further corruption that might be in this department. Consider yourself on notice that I’ll be looking not only at your work performance here but potentially investigating your personal lives, as well.”
Her words were met with a grumble of discontent. She ignored it. As she had told Daniel earlier, she wasn’t here to make friends.
“Over the next couple of days, I’ll be meeting with each of you individually,” she continued.
“Looking for snitches,” a voice in the back muttered.
She identified the man who had spoken as a small, wiry officer with ferret-like features. She stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment, until he broke eye contact with her and looked down at the floor.
“I’m not looking for snitches. I’ll be getting input from each of you on how to make this department run more efficiently and I’ll also be looking for anyone who isn’t working in the best interest of law enforcement.” She was aware of the warning in her voice and she also knew her tough words wouldn’t make her the most popular person in the room.
Her gaze fell on Daniel in the second row. As deputy sheriff he would have worked closely with Trey Walker. Was he the upright, moral man she’d like him to be, or did he hide secrets that would put them at odds?
Time would tell. She’d already identified ferret-face as a potential troublemaker, and she had a feeling by reading Emma Carpenter’s body language that the woman was potentially a suck-up, probably assuming since they were both women they’d share some kind of special relationship.
When Olivia put on her badge, she was neither male nor female, she was simply an officer of the law. She didn’t like suck-ups and she definitely didn’t like troublemakers.
She finished the meeting by instructing everyone to go about their business as usual and then returned to her office and closed the door.
For the next couple of hours, Olivia continued to study the background checks and any other pertinent information that was in the files about the men and the one woman who would be working for her.
It was her task to find out if any of those lawmen had also been involved in the drug-trafficking scheme. It was hard to believe that Trey Walker and Jim Burns had acted all alone, but it was possible nobody in the sheriff’s department had known anything about it. She hoped that was the case. There was nothing she hated worse than a dirty deputy.
Even as she tried to stay focused on the paperwork in front of her, visions of Daniel intruded again and again, breaking her concentration.
She was still stunned that fate had brought them together again. Thankfully, he hadn’t mentioned the night in New Orleans when they’d sat in the bar and talked about jazz music and Mardi Gras. She’d seen him before at the conference, so she knew he was a lawman somewhere, but neither of them had talked about where they worked or where they were from.
They’d had drink after drink and hadn’t mentioned crime or their work. Their conversation had been superficial and flirtatious, just what she’d needed to escape the grip of nearly overwhelming grief.
What happened after they’d left the bar and gone to his hotel room had been crazy and wild and wonderful, but she’d left town early the next morning never dreaming that she’d ever see him again.
It was just after five when she decided to call it a day. She wanted to spend most of the evening going through the box of files that should hold not only information about the recent arrests of Trey Walker and Jim Burns, but also any crime investigations that had occurred under Walker’s watch.
She grabbed her purse and the box and headed out of the office. She had only taken a couple of steps into the squad room when Daniel jumped up from his desk and took the box from her. “I’ll carry it to your car,” he said.
“Thanks,” she replied. Tension filled her. Did he intend to mention that night once they stepped out of the station and were all alone? She didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t even want it mentioned. It had been an anomaly and had nothing to do with who she was or had been.
He led her to the back door of the building that would open up on the parking lot. “Have you gotten settled in okay here in town?” he asked as they stepped outside and into the late August heat.
“I’ve rented one of the renovated places along the swamp, and, yes, I’m settled in just fine.” She walked briskly toward her car.
“Have you had a chance to look around town?”
“Not really, although I did meet with Mayor Frank Kean yesterday and he assured me his full cooperation while I’m here. I’m hoping to do some sightseeing in the next day or two.” They reached her car and she opened the passenger door to allow him to set the box inside.
“The Lost Lagoon Café is a great place to eat, but I’d stay away from the diner. George’s Diner is actually just a hamburger joint, but if you want really good food then I’d recommend Jimmy’s Place. It’s a bar and grill that serves great food.”
“Thanks for the information, but I will probably eat at home most of the time.”
He placed the box in the passenger seat and she closed the door and hurried around to the driver door. “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said and before he could say anything else she slid into the seat and closed the door.
As she pulled away, she glanced in her rearview mirror. He stood in the same place, a tall, ridiculously handsome man watching her leave.
She’d been instantly attracted to him when they’d met in the bar and she was surprised to realize that after all this time she was still attracted to him.
She squeezed the steering wheel more tightly. No matter how attracted she was to Daniel and he to her, nothing would come of it. There was too much to lose.
Her tension eased the moment she pulled into the short driveway in front of the small bungalow-type house. It was painted a bright yellow, not only setting it off from the green of the swamp land behind it, but also making for a bit of cheer among the row of ramshackle and deserted shanties that lined the street. Only a few of the shanties had been renovated and appeared like gems among the others.
She got out of the car and went around and grabbed the box from the passenger seat. She hadn’t even made it to the door when it opened and her mother smiled at her.
Rose Christie had been a godsend over the last couple of years. Olivia had always been close to her mother, but their relationship had deepened when Olivia’s father had died of an unexpected heart attack seven years ago.
Rose opened the door wider to allow Olivia to walk into the tiny living room that held the futon where Olivia slept, an upholstered rocking chair and a small television.
The kitchen area was little more than a row of the necessary appliances with room for a small round table and chairs.
Olivia had just set the box of files on the top of the table and taken off her gun belt, which went on the top of one of the kitchen cabinets, when a squeal came from one of the two bedrooms. Olivia crouched down and braced herself as a dark-haired, green-eyed four-year-old came barreling toward her.
“Mommy, you’re home!” She threw herself into Olivia’s awaiting arms.
Olivia pulled her daughter close enough that she could nuzzle her sweet little neck. “Ah, nothing smells better than my Lily flower.”
Lily giggled and hugged Olivia tight. “Silly Mommy, Nanny’s sugar cookies smell better than a flower.”
“Not better than my Lily flower,” Olivia said as the two broke apart. “Come sit and tell me what you did today.”
Olivia and Lily sat side by side on the futo
n while Rose bustled in the kitchen to prepare dinner. “I played dolls and then Nanny and I watched a movie.”
As Olivia watched and listened to her beautiful daughter relay the events of her day, her heart swelled with love.
Unexpected and unplanned, Lily had added a richness, a joy in Olivia’s life that she’d never expected to have. She was bright and more than a little precocious, and now Olivia couldn’t imagine her life without Lily.
By eight thirty dinner had been eaten, Lily’s bath was complete and she was in bed in one of the two bedrooms. Olivia’s mother had retired to the other bedroom, leaving Olivia alone with a box of files and conflicting thoughts she’d never believed she’d have to entertain.
She’d never thought the day would come when she’d meet the man who had fathered Lily. She’d never considered what she might do if she did run into him again.
Daniel.
She was his boss and he was the father of her child. Should she tell him about Lily or should she keep the secret to herself? What was the right thing to do for everyone involved?
She didn’t know the answer.
Hoping the right answer would eventually present itself to her, she opened the box of files and pulled out the first one.
Chapter Two
Daniel had spent a restless night plagued by dreams of New Orleans and the passionate woman who’d come with him back to his hotel room from the bar. He’d finally awakened before dawn and after a shower and two cups of coffee, he thought he was prepared to face the woman who was now his boss.
Lily had only been a dream, but Olivia Bradford had already shown herself to be a formidable figure. Daniel wasn’t afraid of her digging into his professional or personal life. He’d never even taken a free cup of coffee from the café in his position as deputy and as temporary sheriff. He had nothing to hide, but there were several deputies he knew who didn’t hold themselves to the same standards.
Olivia appeared to be the type who would leave no stone unturned both in her internal investigation and any others that might present themselves, due to Trey Walker’s dictatorial style and lack of real investigations during his reign as sheriff.
Daniel arrived at the station at six forty-five ready for roll call at seven o’clock. He was unsurprised that Olivia was already in the office. He had a feeling that she was the type of woman who wouldn’t abide anything but strict punctuality.
Apparently, the men knew that, too. Even the deputies who had often been stragglers to roll call were all present, uniforms neat and eyes clear.
Five deputies worked the day shift and then five worked the evening shift until midnight, then five more were on duty from midnight until eight in the morning. The extra four worked shifts when the others had days off.
Daniel had worked the night shift until he’d become sheriff and then had changed to the day shift. He assumed he would continue his day shift even now that Olivia was here.
At precisely seven the five men working the day shift were in the conference room and Olivia walked in. Today she was clad in a pair of black slacks, a crisp white short-sleeved blouse with her badge pinned to the blouse’s pocket and her gun belt around her waist.
Her hair was pulled back and her makeup minimal. She held a file in her hand. “Good morning,” she said. “The first thing I’d like for you to do is stand up one at a time and state your name.”
Daniel stood up first, followed by Josh Griffin, Wes Stiller, Ray McClure and Malcolm Appleton. Daniel and Josh were particularly close, having been friends for years, and they had worked together to bring down Trey and Jim.
Once they had all introduced themselves, Olivia held up the file in her hand into the air. “I spent most of the night going through criminal file records for the last five years and one in particular captured my attention.”
Daniel knew immediately which file she held in her hand. It was woefully thin and unsolved. Guilt immediately pooled in his gut as he and Josh exchanged a quick glance.
“Who killed Shelly Sinclair?” Olivia’s question hung in the air for a long, pregnant moment before she continued. “This is a two-year-old unsolved murder case and as far as I can tell, very little was done at the time of her murder in the way of an investigation.” She placed the file down on the table in front of her.
“That’s because at the time of the murder we knew who had committed it,” Ray said. “Bo McBride killed Shelly. He was her boyfriend at the time.”
Olivia frowned. “Then why isn’t the case closed?”
“We couldn’t find the evidence necessary to make the arrest,” Wes said.
“Is there another file someplace? What I have here surely doesn’t contain all of the interviews and statements of people who might have been involved in the case.” Olivia’s dark eyes radiated confusion as she looked at each of the men.
“A good solid investigation was never done,” Daniel said as the guilt knot in his gut twisted tighter.
“I don’t understand,” Olivia replied.
“That’s because you weren’t working for Trey Walker,” Josh added. Daniel knew Josh had suffered just as much guilt as Daniel had with the way the case had been shunted aside. “Trey had made up his mind that Bo was guilty and he made it clear that any of us who wanted to investigate further did so at the risk of our jobs.”
Olivia’s lush lips pressed together in a sign of obvious disapproval. “You have an unsolved murder that’s now become a cold case and a shoddy investigation at best at the time the murder occurred. We’re going to reopen this case and get it solved. Daniel, I’d like to see you in my office and the rest of you get back to your usual duties.”
“What a waste of time,” Ray grumbled when Olivia had left the room. “Everyone knows that Bo did it. It’s not our fault that we couldn’t prove it.”
“Not everyone is so certain that Bo was responsible,” Josh replied.
That’s the last of the conversation Daniel heard as he left the room to head to Olivia’s office. He was glad that she was being proactive in the case of Shelly’s murder. The unsolved case had been like a stain on Daniel’s soul for far too long.
He knocked on the door and then entered the office where she gestured him into one of the chairs in front of her desk.
“I read what little was in the file, but I want you to tell me about Shelly Sinclair and her death,” she said.
Daniel nodded and tried to school his thoughts. The scent of a lilac-based perfume filled the air. He hadn’t noticed it yesterday, but he remembered it from the night they had hooked up in New Orleans. He had found it dizzyingly intoxicating then and it still affected him on some primal level.
“Daniel?”
Her voice yanked him out of the past and to the present.
“Sorry...yes, about Shelly. She was found floating in the lagoon at the south end of town. She’d been strangled. The area has a bench and some bushes, and from the scene it appeared some kind of a struggle had ensued. Her purse and phone was found on the bench, but her engagement ring was missing and has never been found.”
“Now tell me about Bo McBride.”
Daniel shifted positions in his chair, oddly disappointed that her eyes held nothing but professional curiosity about a crime. Of course, that was how it should be. A married woman shouldn’t be interested in the five years that had passed since a hot hookup had occurred.
“At the time of the murder, Bo owned the place that is now Jimmy’s Place. Bo and Shelly had been a couple since junior high school and it was just assumed that eventually they’d get married. They often met at the bench by the lagoon late at night before Shelly started her night shift working as the clerk in The Pirate’s Inn. When Shelly wound up dead it was only natural that Bo would be one of the prime suspects.”
“And from what I read in the file, his alibi was that he was at ho
me sick with the flu on the night that Shelly was murdered.”
“And the last text message on Shelly’s phone was from Bo telling her he was ill and couldn’t meet her that night,” Daniel replied.
Olivia shuffled through the few papers that were in the file. “And no other suspects were pursued? All I see in here are interviews of Shelly’s sister, Savannah, her brother, Mac, their parents and a couple of Shelly’s friends. Is there anything more you can tell me that isn’t in this file?”
“Several things have come to light in the last couple of months. Shelly told some of her friends that she was in a sticky situation, but we never managed to figure out what that meant. While we were investigating the attacks on Shelly’s sister, Savannah, we discovered that Eric Baptiste had become friendly with Shelly right before her death, a detail we never knew during the initial investigation.”
Olivia held up her hand to stop him. “I’m already confused by names and incidents I know nothing about. Obviously you can’t completely update me in a brief talk right now.” She frowned thoughtfully. “What I’d like you to do is head up a four-man task force and focus efforts on starting this investigation all over again from the very beginning.”
“I’d be glad to do that. I always felt like Bo was an easy scapegoat and the crime wasn’t investigated right from the start. Is there anyone in particular you want on the task force?” he asked.
She shook her head, her dark hair shining richly in the light flooding in from the windows behind her desk. “You know the men better than I do and you know who you’ll work best with. I just want go-getters, men who want to work hard and close this case with a killer behind bars.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I want this cleaned up before I leave here.”
There was nothing of Lily in the hard-eyed woman seated across from him. “We’ll get it cleaned up,” he said, hoping his words of confidence would somehow soften her features.
Scene of the Crime: Who Killed Shelly Sinclair? Page 2