Maria had a radio.
She didn’t bother with the intercom. Pausing only to jam her tender feet into her slippers, Tess hurried down the hall that led to her hostess’s room. It didn’t matter if Maria was home. After watching her habits these last few days, Tess knew that Maria usually left her radio in her bedroom.
She could use it. She would use it.
Maria’s door was still closed. She remembered herself, then remembered the story of Mack Turner and his attack on Maria in time to keep from barging into the room. Panting slightly, still out of breath, she pounded the flats of her hands against the wood.
“Maria?” The words came out strangled, her voice strained. She swallowed roughly and tried again. Bam! Bam! Bam! “Maria? Please, are you here?”
No answer.
She tried the handle anyway. It didn’t turn at all.
Locked.
What was she going to do now?
“Tess? Why are you trying to break into my room?”
Maria!
Tess whirled on her. Wide-eyed and flushed, she blurted out, “You have to help me! Please, I need to use your radio!”
Maria hurried forward. She recognized the panic in the other woman’s voice, the fright that kept her pupils wide, her eyes staring. She’d felt like that herself not too long ago.
Something was wrong.
Though her first instinct was to grab her bat, Maria forced herself to put her hands on her knees and bend enough that she was eye to eye with Tess. “Shh, sweetie, I’m here now. I'll help.”
“It’s Mason. He—” Tess stumbled over her words, trying to spit it out. “It’s the sheriff… he went to go talk to her.”
Maria straightened, bemused. That’s what had Tess so worked up? “Caity’s his boss. I’m sure it’ll be fine. He reports to her all the time.”
Tess shook her head. “Not like this. You didn’t— okay. Okay. This is what happened—“
In between shallow breaths, Tess struggled to explain how Mason came to take her out only to lose it when she told him how Sheriff De Angelis refused to treat her as a victim instead of the villain.
And then, that last look he shot her… the determination, the drive. He got it in his head that he would be her white knight, riding in to save the day. She could live with that, she could deal, except she couldn’t deny the desperation in his kiss.
That’s what scared her. Because Mason was suddenly desperate. And Tess knew better than most that desperation and impulsiveness could be a very dangerous combination.
“He kissed me,” she bit out. A lick of color crept into Tess’s pale cheeks. “I didn’t ask him to. I didn’t want him to. But he did and then he left and I’m so very scared because he was talking crazy, Maria. I don’t know what he’s going to do.”
She just knew it wouldn’t be good.
Tess didn’t say that last part out loud. From the furrow in Maria’s brow to the way she released Tess to stroke the silver chain at her throat, she knew she didn’t have to.
Maria finally understood.
She nodded. “Mase is going to see Caity? Let’s give her fair warning, yes?”
Or maybe she didn’t understand.
Tess threw her hand behind her, slapping the closed bedroom door. “I’m trying to!”
“He isn’t acting like himself,” Maria confirmed. Now her pale blue eyes had gone dark with sudden worry. Yes. She did get it. “If he says the wrong thing to Caity, she might fire him. It would kill Mase to lose his job, and Cait, too, if she had to let one of her guys go. No, no, no.”
“The radio— that’s why I need your radio.”
“Dammi un secundo. Wait here.”
Instead of entering her room, Maria spun around, her long dark hair a curtain that whipped behind her as she ran down the hall. Tess began to nibble on her thumbnail, realized what she was doing and let her hand fall to her side.
One second turned into a minute, then two before Maria came jogging back. She carried her communicator in her right hand.
“I had it with me in the kitchen when I was prepping dinner earlier,” she explained. “I already buzzed the station. Sly told me that the sheriff went home. So I tried Caity, but no answer. Come on. I’ll take you there. If he goes to the station first, we might be able to beat him to her place. And we can always try buzzing her again in the car.”
Tess just managed to snap her seatbelt closed before Maria sped off in her coupe. The roads were empty and Maria drove even more recklessly than her brother. Tess was beginning to think her overwhelming anxiety had rubbed off on Maria until both of them were racing against Mason’s cruiser.
Maria wanted to make sure her old friend kept his job. Tess… she wanted to make sure that no one else got hurt because of her.
No sign of Mason as they drove. Normally, the intense speed would’ve caused Tess’s heart to lodge in her throat. Since she was too busy trying to page Sheriff De Angelis over and over again, she barely noticed how fast Maria was going.
The buzzes went unanswered. That only made the feeling that something bad was going to happen even worse. Tess caught herself gnawing nervously on her thumbnail again and let it go.
Just how far was the sheriff’s house from Ophelia?
She had to trust that Maria knew where she was going. Hamlet was small, and in the handful of days she’d been stuck there, she’d only seen a fraction of what it had to offer. When they pulled up in front of a quaint pale blue house on the corner, she didn’t recognize it. She turned in her seat, gripping the seatbelt strap.
There. A police cruiser. Yes!
Maria leaned on her horn, one continuous squeal, as she skid to a fast stop along the curb, leaving burning rubber in her wake. Only one cruiser was parked there. She came within an inch of the bumper, killing the engine before they both climbed out of the coupe. Tess tossed Maria’s radio onto the passenger seat, slamming the door behind her as she stepped onto the grass.
“Is this her house?” she asked.
“Yes. And that’s her cruiser,” Maria said, pointing at the other car. “No sign of Mason, though.”
A sigh of relief. The tight knot in her stomach relaxed the tiniest fraction. It felt good to be wrong. “Maybe he didn’t come here after all. Maybe I—”
“What the hell is going on?”
Tess gulped. The sheriff sounded pissed. Now that she saw for herself that Mason hadn’t come to confront De Angelis, she wanted to get the hell out of there.
She grabbed Maria's sleeve, tugged it once. “Okay, she's fine, still no Mason, and I definitely overreacted. Can we go now?”
“Shh. It'll be fine. Let me talk to Cait.”
Moving in front of Tess as if blocking her, Maria turned toward the open door. Caitlin De Angelis stood there, a scowl crossing her pointed face, her red hair dark with damp as it hung in heavy clumps down her back, barely brushed. A towel was in her hand. She’d changed into a pair of jeans and a flowy yellow blouse that made her seem even smaller somehow.
“Maria, was that you honking the horn? What gives?”
She didn’t even wait for an answer. Raising her towel up to her head, she wrapped the wet strands of hair, vigorously rubbing at it in an attempt to dry it.
“Jesus, can’t a girl take a shower in peace? My radio has been buzzing nonstop these last ten minutes. I finally answer one of the calls, and it’s Sly telling me that you’re worried about Mase of all people. And now you’re killing me with the horn. What the hell?”
“Sly, he’s right, Caity,” Maria told her. Whether on purpose or not, she shielded Tess’s smaller frame as she drew all of Caitlin’s annoyance her way. “Something set Mase off, now there’s a good chance he’s coming to confront you. We don’t want that to happen. No. He’s a good deputy, and a good man. We all know he’ll regret it if he loses his cool. We wanted to stop him before he did.”
“We?” Caitlin finished with her towel, tossing it onto the porch chair before she stormed down the couple of steps that
led to the walkway. “I don’t get it, why would my deputy want to— oh.”
Her thin lips pulled into a sneer. She’d finally noticed Tess tucked behind Lucas’s sister.
“You.”
If looks could kill, Tess would be joining Jack.
The sheriff wrinkled her nose, disgust plain on her face. “I should’ve known. You’ve been nothing but trouble since you appeared in my town and now you’ve got the nerve to drag me into it? At my home?”
“Cait, that’s not fair.”
Ignoring Maria, De Angelis stopped in the middle of her sidewalk. As if she couldn’t be bothered going any closer to the other two women. She perched her hands on her narrow hips, her stare boring holes right through Tess.
“Look, I don’t know what kind of spell you’ve cast on my guys, but you can just stop it right now.”
“Caitlin!”
“Luc, Mase, they're all better off without you.”
Unwilling to let Maria defend her, Tess found her voice. “It’s not me. I didn’t—”
“I warned you not to come between Mason and Hamlet. What were you thinking?”
Her cheeks were on fire. To think she’d come all this way to stop something bad from happening, only to be scolded like a naughty child. Ducking around Maria, Tess stood up, facing off against the belligerent sheriff.
“I was thinking that I didn’t want to come between anyone. Forget it. I don’t know why I even tried.” Her fists tight, she glanced over her shoulder, past Maria, looking for an answer that she’d never find. Biting down on her bottom lip, she turned back to Caitlin. Tess flexed her fingers, exhaled softly. “I’m sorry for trying to… hell, I don’t know. Whatever. I’ll just go.”
“Tess,” Maria called softly behind her, “don’t do that. You came here for a reason. You don’t deserve to be attacked. Maybe if you explain… go on, sweetie. Tell Caity what happened with you and Mase.”
“What did you do to my deputy now?” De Angelis demanded.
That was the problem, wasn’t it? What did she do?
Tess hesitated. “I just—”
The piercing shot rang out into the gloom of dusk. Unlike the day before, it was only the one time.
Once was enough.
Maria screamed.
Tess, flashing back to the doctor’s office, curled in on herself and dropped to the curb.
The sheriff, standing alone on the walkway, glaring daggers at her opponent instead of being aware of her surroundings, was an easy target. Depending on where the gunman was hiding, it was nearly impossible to miss her.
And he didn’t.
She opened her mouth again, the softest gasp escaping from her as the force of the bullet slammed her two steps back. Her eyes widened in surprise. Red blossomed on the sunny yellow of her blouse. An instant later, she crumpled to the grass in front of her home.
Maria was still screaming.
The constant high-pitched shriek was background noise to Tessa as her training kicked in. Just like when Lucas had been shot, she tamped down her fear and sprang into action. Scrabbling in the grass, she stayed low to the ground in case gunfire rang out again. When she reached the sheriff, she dropped down and grabbed for her limp wrist, desperately searching for a pulse.
It was pointless.
Sheriff De Angelis was dead.
22
Over the next few days, Lucas called in as many favors as he could. Most he didn’t have to. Outrage and grief poured in as news of Caitlin’s death spread throughout Hamlet and the neighboring counties. Bonnie’s inn was full of outsiders who came to offer help in finding her murderer. When the Hamlet Inn had no vacancies, one or two were invited to stay at Ophelia, including Detective David Rodriguez.
Despite two witnesses on scene, there were no leads. Led by Rodriguez, crime scene investigation teams from the next town over worked around the clock, looking for clues, finding evidence, and questioning nearly every single one of Hamlet’s residents.
Because of her position as head of law enforcement, the outsiders took over point on the investigation. No one seemed to argue. They were too busy mourning.
As her former husband, Lucas was one of the first questioned. He tried not to be too insulted. It was rough, especially when he flashed back to that morning in Jack Sullivan’s hotel room and Caitlin’s insistence that the spouse was usually guilty. Only the fact that this would get the investigators one step closer to discovering who killed his ex-wife kept him cordial during the tedious process.
When they finally let him go, they gave him one nugget of good faith information to tide him over. The ME who was taking care of Caitlin had recovered the bullet. God willing, they’d figure out what gun fired it.
Lucas didn’t mind that someone else was doing his job. In fact, that was one of the favors he called in personally. When it came to Caitlin, he wouldn’t work on her. He couldn’t. Not when only a week ago he joked with her about seeing her on his slab. As Hamlet’s only acting medical examiner, he was no stranger to dead bodies. But this wasn’t just a DB, a gunshot victim. This was his ex-wife.
Someone else had to do it.
Luckily, over the course of his career, Lucas had made many contacts and bonds with plenty of others in the same field. Within hours of Caitlin’s murder, he had countless offers from those willing to come into town and take over his duties so that, for once, he didn’t have to be the only doc. He could grieve.
Not that he spent much time doing that. Keeping busy was a perfect balm to obsessing over this newest and most awful tragedy.
When he wasn’t making arrangements with her deputies, Lucas spent most of his time at Ophelia. He tended to his sister, who was traumatized after watching Caitlin die, and he talked with Tessa Sullivan. The poor woman eyed the world warily now, as if she suspected anyone and everyone of being behind these terrible deeds.
As much as it went against everything he believed in as a doctor, Lucas overmedicated them both. Tessa still couldn’t sleep without a little extra help. The anxiety that plagued Maria after her attack came back with a vengeance. He raided his limited pharmacy, trying to keep the women calm.
The anti-anxiety meds left Maria drained and more than a little dull, and she spent most of the time sleeping in a vain attempt to cope.
Tess fought sleep until he threatened to shove a sleeping pill down her throat. The first night, she took it. The second, he really thought she’d make him follow through with his threat before she finally gave in.
Lucas couldn’t remember the last time he got more than a few hours down. It didn’t matter. He could sleep when he was dead.
He made the mistake of saying that to his sister the morning after Caitlin’s murder when Maria pointed out his five o’clock shadow and the circles under his eyes. She burst into tears. He immediately borrowed one of her rooms, showering and shaving so that he looked human.
After that, he put her back on her medicine, keeping her mildly sedated as he pushed on. So many things to do, so little time. The busier he was, the easier it was to simply forget that someone killed Caitlin. It wasn’t callous or cold but, rather, just his own coping mechanism. If he stopped to think about what happened, he’d crash. He didn’t have time for that sort of luxury. Not now.
Tessa was the only one in Hamlet who understood how he felt. When Maria locked herself in her room, she sat with him in the kitchen, keeping him company. The homey room they returned to Thursday night after he'd been forced to pronounce his ex dead on the scene became the center of their unspoken vigil. Neither could say what it was they were exactly waiting for.
Then, on Saturday afternoon, Maria’s radio buzzed. And it seemed as if they’d been waiting for something just like that.
Lucas stiffened at the unexpected sound. He recognized it immediately. It was the emergency signal, the one reserved for the sheriff’s department, and it was playing on his sister’s radio.
Maria was sitting on the same side of the table as Tessa. Her long dark hair was mussed f
rom the nap she took earlier that morning. Blue eyes were glassy and unfocused as she absently nibbled on the cheese sandwich Lucas slapped together for her. She’d taken to carrying her radio with her. It was propped up next to her plate while she struggled to eat something. When the radio started its chirp, she set the sandwich back down.
No one reached for the communicator. It continued to sound, the frequency growing higher in pitch. Tessa shook her head back and forth. Maria blinked before nudging the radio with her forefinger, moving it away from her. She scooted it in front of Lucas.
He sighed. Picking the damn thing up, he pressed the answer button. “Yes?”
Crackle. “Who is this?”
“Lucas De Angelis speaking.”
“Doctor. It’s Deputy Collins down at the station. I was hoping you were still with your sister. I thought you’d both like to know.” He paused. In a curiously emotionless voice, he continued, “There’s been an arrest.”
Lucas nearly dropped Maria’s radio.
It had been less than forty-eight hours since Caitlin was slain. Her wake was scheduled to be held all day Monday, her burial the morning after that. He expected the investigation to drag out until the collective anger at her murder faded into a sad acceptance that she was gone. Since learning of her death, he prayed for the best and prepared for the worst. After his own questioning, he hadn’t had much hope that they could find the culprit without a little help.
Could it be that they had? And so soon?
Maria clasped her hands in front of her in a silent prayer. Tessa, strung as tight as piano wire, seemed to vibrate in place as she silently implored Collins to spill.
His hand shook so bad that his finger slipped off of the receiver button. “Collins? You there, Deputy?”
Static filled the room, then the morose voice of the stunned deputy.
“It was supposed to be routine. They asked us all for our weapons to make sure that none of them matched the bullet that shot the sheriff. But one of ‘em did so Detective Rodriguez just came and took him.”
Don't Trust Me (Hamlet Book 1) Page 22