Crime & Passion

by Chantel Rhondeau

  “I can imagine.”

  Glancing over at Donovan, another thought occurred to her. “You know, it might not have been a jogging suit I saw, considering the person obviously wasn’t down there for a run.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the color the person wore was like your outfit.”

  Donovan sucked in a breath, and Madeline risked another look.

  He ran his hand over his face. “You think it’s a cop?”

  “No, I didn’t mean... That’s not to say...” Great. She offended him. Certainly, the other cops would love hearing she half-accused one of them of being responsible for the crime. Madeline exhaled heavily. “Look, it could have been anybody wearing anything. That’s all I meant. The color was similar to your uniform and there was something shiny the sun hit when the person turned my direction for a few moments. It could have been metal, like a badge.”

  Donovan stopped walking and made a notation in the notebook he carried.

  Happy to take advantage of the break, Brutus trotted over to mark a signpost. Thankfully, they were only three houses away from his owner, and Madeline could drop him off and head home. She felt in desperate need of a hot bath and some chamomile tea.

  She dragged Brutus away from the post and hurried to his owner’s door. Donovan stayed on the sidewalk, watching her. That at least kept her from having to answer questions about why she had a police escort, though Mrs. Stanfield might have wondered about the jacket saying ‘Police’ in big, yellow letters. Perhaps she didn’t notice.

  After Brutus was safely inside the house, Madeline returned to Donovan. “I really don’t have anything else to offer, sir. Is it okay if I head home now?”

  He nodded. “That’s probably for the best. Where’s your car? I’ll walk you to it.”

  “That’s nice of you, but my apartment is three blocks away, over on Holly Street. I’ll be fine.”

  “Holly Street? Overlooking the ocean?” At her nod, Donovan quirked an eyebrow. “Kind of a nice neighborhood for a dog walker...or a substitute teacher.”

  Madeline looked at the sidewalk, refusing to answer the unspoken question. He didn’t need to know she’d pulled out her entire life savings to chase her dream of living next to the ocean. Northern California seemed like the perfect escape once she realized she wouldn’t be marrying Cameron.

  She had just enough saved to finance the apartment for one year. After that, she’d have to rethink her life plan and make a decision that wasn’t so impulsive. Still, falling asleep to the sound of the ocean, watching the waves crash into the shore beneath her picture window, taking walks on the beach—spending all her money was worth that.

  “I’d better walk you home,” Donovan said, and she looked back up. “There’s a killer out here somewhere. I don’t think you should walk alone.”

  Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. “I’d appreciate the escort.”

  ***

  “So this Scott girl probably saw the killer but can’t give an accurate description?” Chief Kenneth Stone boomed from behind his desk. “That’s not a lot of help to us unless she remembers more.”

  Donovan sighed and clasped his hands behind his back. “Sir, she saw someone in a blue suit running away, but she was on the hilly part of the beach at the time and didn’t even realize there was a body or that a crime had been committed. She was too far away to be useful.”

  “She’s new in town. Do you know anything about her background?”

  “No.” Donovan shrugged. “Why? You think she overpowered Frank and then stuck around to report her crime?”

  “Doubtful,” Stone admitted. “Then again, a coldly calculating killer might, in hopes we wouldn’t look at her for the crime. We’ve never had something like this happen here before. New residents are automatically suspicious in my mind.”

  Eric laughed from his place on the tiny office’s only guest chair. “Miss Scott’s quite a willowy thing. Tall, but I doubt she could’ve taken down a tough guy like Frank Johnson.”

  “Never underestimate a woman, rookie.” Chief Stone ran a hand through his silver-streaked hair and shook his head. “Check into her more to make sure, but she’s probably a dead end. Did she tell you anything useful?”

  Donovan hesitated. “She did say one thing that was interesting.” And sure to land Donovan in trouble as soon as Stephanie Johnson complained.

  Stone raised a bushy eyebrow. “Out with it, Andrews.”

  He knew he’d have to tell them. It would look worse if he didn’t. “She thought maybe, and she’s not very sure about this, but it’s possible the jogging suit could be a police uniform or some other type of suit entirely. If that was the killer she saw, obviously he wasn’t down there for an evening jog.”

  “Hmmm...” Stone leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head. “And you two were the only officers near the scene at the time. What does that say?”

  “We were eating dinner, sir,” Eric squeaked.

  Donovan launched a quelling glare at his partner, praying the dumb rookie wouldn’t say anything else. “Like I said, Chief, Madeline wasn’t too sure about anything.”

  Stone sat straight up in his chair. “Madeline?”

  “Miss Scott,” Donovan amended, shaking his head at his own carelessness. He already sat in a precarious position with Chief Stone, and it wouldn’t do to act interested in another woman.

  Donovan dated Stone’s daughter for a few weeks before growing tired of her possessiveness and clingy nature. Stone foolishly thought Donovan would commit to her and had been pissed when Suzie tearfully informed him Donovan had other plans. Donovan couldn’t help it if he wasn’t the marrying type.

  More accurately, he couldn’t help it if most women bored him to tears. He’d dated Suzie as long as he had out of respect for the Chief. She still came around the station house nearly every day, making mooneyes in Donovan’s direction. It was enough to drive him mad.

  Then again, he’d cycled through the available talent in this small town. Heavy tourist traffic wouldn’t start for another few months. Madeline Scott just might provide a much-needed break in the monotony of his current dating life. She seemed smart and definitely had a sarcastic sense of humor, even when faced with a body. They could have fun together for a while.

  The Chief stood and walked to the office door. “See that you keep things on professional footing with Miss Scott, Andrews. I don’t want any problems with my witness.”

  Donovan nodded as Stone opened the door, and Eric hurried past them out into the main room.

  “A quick question, sir.” Donovan’s heart beat fast, but at Stone’s nod he dove on. “Who’s questioning Stephanie Johnson?”

  “It’s already been handled.”

  “And did she mention a reason someone might have done this?”

  Stone shrugged. “She’s only interested in getting her children back. She didn’t even blink when they informed her Frank was murdered. Maybe she’ll talk to us more once she’s met with Social Services.”

  Well, wasn’t that funny? Here Donovan worried about Stephanie accusing him of killing her husband, but perhaps she did it herself. “Are we looking at her for this?”

  “Yeah.” Stone wiped a large hand across his wrinkled face. “She seems a more likely candidate than Miss Scott. So far, she’s the only person I’ve found who has motive. Get back to work and round me up more suspects. I don’t want those kids yanked out of her house a second time if there’s a chance someone else did this.”

  Donovan nodded and walked to his desk. He flopped into the chair, fear clutching his chest. So far, at least, no one knew about him punching Frank.

  Eric glanced up from the papers in front of him. “You okay?”

  Closing his eyes and leaning back, Donovan didn’t respond. If word got out Stephanie was a suspect and it looked like she wouldn’t get her children back, there was no way she’d keep quiet about the threats he made yesterday.

  He had to find more suspects befo
re that happened.

  ***

  “I knew California was a bad idea!”

  Madeline sighed, shifting her cell phone to her other ear before taking another sip of tea. The hot bath hadn’t done anything to steady her nerves, and her mom’s hysterics weren’t helping much either. “You make it sound like I moved to L.A. There’s hardly any crime in this dinky town. I promise you, I’m fine.”

  “But a body? Madeline Josephine Scott, what if the killer saw you?”

  “The police are keeping an eye on me until the killer is caught,” Madeline lied. “Don’t worry.”

  “I’d feel better if you came back to Utah, sweetheart.”

  “What for?” Madeline blinked back sudden tears. It had been five months since she caught her maid of honor in bed with her fiancé, and the pain and humiliation remained. “Coming back is not an option. Please, don’t worry about me.”

  A knock sounded against her door, and Madeline stifled a relieved sigh. “Somebody’s here. I have to go. I’ll call on Sunday. Kiss, kiss.”

  Madeline hung up before her mother could respond and tightened the sash of her robe to make sure her silky pajamas didn’t show. She crossed through the small living room to the front door and peered through the peephole. Officer Andrews stood in the outer hallway, shifting from side to side.

  He was dressed all in black rather than his police uniform, and his short, brown hair spiked up in front. The slight graying at his temples gave him a distinguished look. His penetrating eyes stared directly into the peephole, as though he could see Madeline on the other side.

  Smoothing her wet hair against her head, she pulled open the door. “Donovan? Was there something more you needed?”

  Donovan’s eyes traveled up and down her body, spending an inordinate amount of time on her bare legs beneath the short silk robe. “Nice outfit.”

  Though her cheeks burned, Madeline refused to lose her composure. Her robe was perfectly respectable, even if her uninvited guest wasn’t. “Can I help you?”

  He nodded. “You might be the only person who can help me.”

  Madeline tipped her head sideways, considering. Donovan clearly was no longer on duty, and he already acted a little too friendly earlier. What, exactly, was he asking for? “I’m sure lots of other girls would love to help you, and probably have.”

  He laughed. “I know I come on a bit strong, but I’m here about the murder investigation—not that I’m sorry I got to see your gorgeous legs.”

  Madeline’s mouth worked a few times, but she was unable to form words as Donovan pushed past her into the apartment.

  He looked past the short hallway to the cheerily painted living room and let out a low whistle. “Yellow walls? I’m surprised. I had you pegged for a lavender girl.”

  Madeline folded her arms. “What is it that you want?”

  “Is anyone here with us, or can we talk in private?”

  “We’re alone.” She shut the door and led him into the apartment, gesturing toward the gray suede couch. “Have a seat. Would you like some tea?”

  “Is that all you have?” Donovan sat down and grimaced. “I suppose if you don’t have coffee, that’ll have to work.”

  Madeline tightened her lips and spun on her heel, marching into the kitchen. What was wrong with the man? Couldn’t he just ask politely for coffee like a decent human being, instead of acting as though she offered him dog piss? She thought about the instant coffee granules sitting in her cupboard. It would only take a few seconds to make him a cup.

  Grabbing a mug, she filled it to the brim with hot chamomile tea. If he couldn’t show any manners, she saw no reason to go out of her way to please him.

  She stormed back into the living room and shoved the mug into his hands. Hot liquid sloshed over the side of the cup.

  He jerked one hand away and shoved it into his mouth, muffling curses as he sucked off the scalding tea.

  “Oopsie,” she muttered, sinking gracefully into the armchair and crossing her legs. She tugged her robe down as inconspicuously as possible, just to make sure Donovan didn’t see more than he should. “What is it you need to know, Officer Andrews?”

  Donovan sipped his tea and pulled a coaster out of a stack on the coffee table. He put the mug down and leaned back. “Officer Andrews is it? Guess I overstepped my mark. I’m just so used to women...” He shrugged.

  “Throwing themselves at you?” Madeline finished with raised eyebrows. “Giving you whatever you want?”

  “Something like that.” Donovan settled back into the couch, his eyes tracking her every movement. “Look, Madeline, I’m sorry if I offended you, but I could really use your help. I need to know if you remember anything else about the runner.”

  Madeline had searched her mind all night. She wouldn’t impede an investigation because of Donovan’s deplorable manners. “The runner held something in his hand. It might have been a small baseball bat. Do you know what kind I mean? I think it’s called a Louisville Slugger.”

  Donovan shot out of his relaxed pose and leaned toward her with narrowed eyes. “Or perhaps a police baton?”

  “Could’ve been.” She nodded. “I couldn’t see it well, but the shape was cylindrical.”

  “How big was it?”

  She held her free hand about a foot and a half from her mug of tea. “About like this from what I remember. Might have been a little bigger.”

  Donovan shook his head and took another sip of tea. “Damn,” he muttered softly.

  As an officer, she thought he’d be happy to hear that news. It was another clue, at least. She’d been thinking about it all night. The victim was a big man and would have been hard to strangle unless he was incapacitated. “Do you think maybe the killer hit the victim and knocked him out before choking him?”

  “It’s a good theory, especially if the killer was a smaller person,” Donovan agreed. “It’s one of the reasons my Chief wants me to look at you a little harder.”

  “M—m—me?” Madeline shook her head frantically. “I couldn’t. I wouldn’t!”

  “Don’t worry.” He reached out and patted her bare leg. “I told Chief Stone the same thing.”

  The skin he touched seemed to burn with the heat coming from it. Why did he so unsettle all her senses?

  His fingers slipped away from her knee, caressing it lightly. “I’ll need an account of your activities today for the record,” he said, “but I don’t think you’re guilty.”

  “I’m glad to hear you don’t truly consider me a suspect. It would have been a bit difficult to keep control of Brutus and take down a huge man at the same time.” Madeline took deep, calming breaths and sipped her tea. They couldn’t really suspect her. Obviously, the small-town police were panicking. In cop shows, they always blamed anyone new to town. That had to be the case here. She looked back at Donovan. “I’m sorry, but I really don’t know anything more.”

  “Well, remembering the bat or whatever it was is helpful.” He ran his hand over his face and shook his head, looking tired. “Unfortunately, it makes me look guiltier.”

  “You?”

  He must have seen the shock in her eyes, because Donovan held out a hand in a placating manner. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I promise I didn’t do anything, but I have a couple very good reasons for wanting this case wrapped up in a hurry.”

  “I suppose if you’re a killer, I’ve already let you in my house, so there’s not much to do about it now.” She set her tea down, pleased when the cup went smoothly onto the table and didn’t rattle. Yep, she was a cool cucumber. She had murderers in for tea every night. No problem here.

  “Look, Maddie, I promise I’ve done nothing wrong. Well, not much wrong.”

  “My name is Madeline,” she corrected softly, wondering if she could make it to her bedroom, lock the door, and call 911 before he caught her.

  “Sorry. You look like a Maddie.”

  Donovan stared into her eyes for several breathless moments, just long enough for Madeli
ne to wonder if he was about to hurt her.

  He finally shrugged and looked away. “The problem I have is Frank Johnson liked to beat his wife. I can’t tell you how many times I went to that house.” He stood and began pacing the living room like a restless beast. “Yesterday, he hit his little girl.”

  She sucked in a shocked breath. How could any man do that to his own family? Especially his child?

  Donovan pivoted on his toe and stalked back toward her, breathing hard and clenching his fists. “Horrible piece of shit that he was, I wish someone hadn’t picked today to kill him. I could be in trouble.”

  He really did sound like a man desperate to clear his name, not a killer.

  “Why might you be in trouble?” she asked.

  “Because I was stupid.” His eyes met hers again. “I lost it yesterday, roughed him up, made some threats. I shouldn’t have, but I was so angry.”

  “And now he’s dead.”

  “Lucky for the world, unlucky for me.”

  Anger emanated off Donovan like a palpable force. Madeline watched him as he prowled. He had the graceful body of a runner. Although he would definitely be strong enough to strangle someone, Madeline wondered if she’d jumped to conclusions too quickly.

  If he really had killed that man, he’d gain nothing by talking to her about it. Also, he’d genuinely seemed surprised when he looked at the body.

  Madeline settled back in her chair, deciding it wouldn’t be necessary to call 911. “Judging by how inappropriate this entire conversation is, I can see you aren’t great at following police procedure. However, anyone would have wanted to beat up a guy like that.”

  “That’s the thing. Tons of people hate him. His wife probably killed him so she could get her kids back, but I think she’ll point the finger of blame at me.”

  Madeline shook her head. “I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t be telling me all this, especially not if I’m a suspect.”

  He laughed. “Probably not, but we suspects have to stick together.”