On Borrowed Crime

by Kate Young

She began to prattle on frantically. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t manage to decipher anything other than that the law had taken my father.

  “Okay. Take a deep breath. Slow down and tell me what happened. Leave nothing out.” I stood and walked down through the little hallway that led to Uncle Calvin’s office.

  “The Daniels boy—the one that was sweet on you—came by with one of his officers. They had some questions for James about your friend Carol. He told them he wouldn’t be speaking with them without William present.”

  I rapped on my uncle’s closed door.

  “Officer Taylor—I think that was what was on the boy’s name tag—got up in James’s face. The Daniels boy pulled him off and shut him up. I thought they’d wait on William Greene, and the next thing I knew, they were hauling my boy out of here.”

  My heart began to race.

  “Your mother is on the phone with William now. He’s going to meet James at the station. What if they think he killed Carol Timms?”

  “They don’t. They’re probably irritated by Daddy’s defiance. He’s digging in his heels on the doctor–patient confidentiality issue. It’s standard practice, and the police should respect it. Someone will have to answer for this.”

  A door creaked and then shut. “I’m not so sure. Lord help us, there’s a reason they might pick him up as a suspect.”

  “No, there isn’t. You’re just worked up. It’s scary. I get it.”

  “No, Lyla! Listen. Carol had the hots for your daddy. And James hasn’t been coming home at reasonable hours lately. I hate even to think it, but there it is.”

  “What in God’s name are you talking about? Carol most certainly did not have a thing for Daddy. You’ve been watching too many soap operas. Daddy is adamant about having his attorney on standby. He wanted me to have Mr. Greene present when I gave my statement too.”

  “There’s something I didn’t tell ya. I wanted to spare you.”

  My heart hammered against my ribcage.

  “There was a note about Carol experiencing transference.”

  “That’s not unusual. If Daddy helped her make some progress, her gratitude might have confused her feelings for him. It isn’t unusual for a patient to experience some confusion and misdirection of their emotions. It would’ve passed once she got to the root of her condition. I’m sure it was all handled in a professional manner.”

  “She tried to seduce him, Lyla. He made notes about inappropriate behavior.” Of course, I realized, when Gran had told me she had a gander at the file, she meant she’d read it cover to cover. Now, I’m ashamed to say, I wished I had taken her up on doing a little snooping myself.

  My parents had had their fair share of marital problems. Could it even be possible? Like Gran said, there it was to be considered.

  I pounded on Calvin’s door now. I didn’t care if he had a client in there with him or not. After another second without response, I flung the door open. Empty. Maybe he was already at the police station.

  “Officer Taylor said something about a wristwatch she had engraved for James.”

  Perhaps Carol had told her husband she had feelings for Daddy, and he jumped to conclusions. If so, that ruled Kevin out. Then why’d he thrown out his cap? So many conjectures, and now my father was in custody. “Did they arrest him, Gran? Read him his rights or anything?”

  “I don’t know. It all happened so fast. One minute James was shaking Quinn Daniels’s hand and everything appeared to calm down and take on a friendly vibe, and the next he was leaving with him. James ordered Frances to call William Greene. I’ve known that Daniels boy since he was in knee pants. And even after the two of you called it quits, I liked him.” Gran’s voice hitched. “How could he do something like this? To think James would have anything to do with that girl’s murder is ludicrous.”

  “Don’t jump to conclusions. Let me speak to Mother.”

  “Okay, but don’t tell her what I read in the file.”

  “I won’t.” My guess was still that our police chief wanted Daddy to share Carol’s medical records because of pressure from the judge, something Daddy wouldn’t do unless there was a court order.

  “Frances! Lyla wants to talk to you. I told her about James,” Gran called. Followed by “Frances! Frances!”

  “For heaven’s sake, Daisy. I haven’t time for this,” Mother shrieked, something my prim and proper mother never did.

  “Listen, Gran.”

  More arguing.

  “Gran!” I hurried back through the office.

  She apparently hadn’t heard a word I’d said. She and mother were squabbling, and now I heard Gran sniffling, and I instantly became angry with my mother. An emotion I had no room for.

  Under the current circumstances, a level head was what was called for. “Gran!”

  “I’m here. Y-your mother said—”

  “Don’t worry about her. She’s upset. I’m going to go down to the station and see what I can find out. Stay calm. Everything is going to be fine. Trust me.”

  “I’ll meet you there. I can call one of those Uber things you use.” Poor Gran. We didn’t have Uber in Sweet Mountain. She must’ve overheard Mel and me talking about our Uber driver in Atlanta last spring.

  “Go with Mother if she decides to meet me down there, or stay put.” I softened my tone and reminded her of days gone by. “You’re my bestie, right?” When things got ugly at home, Gran and I would lie on my trampoline out back and talk about all the places we’d go when I got old enough. She said she’d always be there for me. It didn’t matter where I was in the world, If I called her, she’d come running. We were going to travel the world together. I could talk to Gran about anything and everything, and she always understood. I loved her like no other.

  “Always.” Gran sounded a little calmer.

  * * *

  First Melanie and now my father. I wondered if there had been a larger crowd when Daddy arrived. Our family name carried a lot of weight in this town. And if indeed a Moody had been brought in for questioning, it would be fuel for the rumor mills.

  The police station was silent when I walked through the white wooden double doors. I stood in front of the large, vacant mahogany desk in the poorly lit front room and waited. It occurred to me I’d hadn’t set foot inside this building in years. Not since Quinn and I had called it quits.

  The same large wooden plaque that hung above the glass that separated the desk from the waiting area. It read:

  “The Sweet Mountain Police Department’s focus is:

  “To protect and serve our citizens with a high level of integrity

  “To utilize a community policing philosophy

  “To strive for excellence in all that we do

  “To become less incident driven and more proactive in preventing crime”

  The door swung open as I stared at the sign. In waltzed William Greene, our family attorney. His shoulders were back and his briefcase in hand as he filled the room with his presence. He and Daddy were roughly the same age. Both were tall, commanding men. Mr. Greene had practiced in Atlanta for years before moving his practice back home to Sweet Mountain.

  His brown gaze landed on me. “Hello, dear. It’s been a while.”

  “It has.” I had a plethora of questions that somehow had managed to flitter right out of my head when the past crept in.

  The man reached out and squeezed my arm. “Don’t you worry about a thing. I’m here now, and I’m going to make sure your father is released and his rights upheld. But you have to promise me you won’t speak with another person in law enforcement on any official capacity without me present. Quite frankly, I’d feel better if you would refrain from speaking with anyone in an unofficial capacity too. The lines get blurred sometimes. You understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” I wouldn’t argue with him. I had no idea what was going on here, and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt my daddy.

  He handed me a card he’d taken from the front pocket of his briefcase. “Put my number in yo
ur phone. My cell is written on the back. Call me day or night.”

  I bobbed my head up and down, and the older man smiled. “It’s going to be fine.”

  The door buzzed, releasing the lock on the door beside the desk, and out walked Quinn. “Mr. Greene.”

  My breath caught in my throat when our gazes met. Being in this building had me discombobulated.

  “I’ll be right with you, Chief.” Thankfully, Mr. Greene didn’t suffer from such compunctions. “Don’t worry. I have this.” Mr. Greene motioned for me to have a seat.

  I nodded and sat down on one of the chairs, then fiddled with my bag on my lap.

  “If you’ll follow me, please, sir.” Quinn took the attorney back without a word to me, and for a minute, a great sense of relief enveloped me. I had to get myself together before I uttered a single word. At this rate, I’d end up saying something damaging. I slowed my breathing and reminded myself I had the ability to handle anything thrown my way. Gran always said a woman could handle anything she had to. And I would, for my family, friends, and Carol. For a case to be effectively handled, every and all possibilities must be considered and ruled out. I didn’t believe for a single second my father had anything to do with my friend’s death. The notion was absurd.

  Officer Taylor came through the front doorway and glanced at me, pausing. I wondered where he’d been. I’d assumed he was in the back room where Daddy was being questioned. At least from Gran’s account, he’d been with his chief when they were at the house.

  The arrogance on the officer’s face caused my peaceful resolve to falter. “Still out harassing Melanie instead of looking for a suspect who might actually have the capacity to enact such a horrific crime? Or wait, now your department is going after a pillar of the community with a blemish-free reputation. Wow, that makes great sense. Stellar job there, Officer.”

  His face tensed and he moved closer. “I think you’ve confused our roles here. I’m the one with the badge. It’s my job to focus on solving crimes. You and your little book club are just a bunch of bored women who think they know better than the authorities. In my opinion, I see all this interference as obstruction of justice. I’d lock you all up if I had my way. This isn’t some book.”

  I fought to keep my temper in check. “Well, it’s a good thing we have laws in place to prevent rogue officers from arresting innocent people then.” My face flushed. “And I know it isn’t a novel. I’m not an idiot.”

  He lowered his head, leaning down so close I could feel his hot breath on my neck. I turned my head away from his face. My skin prickled at his nearness. “Tough little gal, are ya?” I could see his sadistic smirk in my periphery. “Someone physically popped your friend’s limbs out of joint and crumpled her up inside that bag.”

  My pulse sped up, and my eyes stung. I blinked to hold back more tears.

  “Stop sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong.” Officer Taylor rose and moved on as if I were of no consequence.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I locked my purse inside my car and checked the parking lot. I didn’t see Mother’s Cadillac rolling down the street, nor was it in the lot. Not that I was surprised. Mother wouldn’t want to be seen causing a scene. In her mind, her reaction would give validity to the rumors that would soon be swirling like a funnel cloud during tornado season unless it could be handled delicately. Perhaps I shouldn’t be seen around here either.

  I strolled around the side of the building toward the creek, walking past the Sweet Mountain establishment sign. I wondered what troubles those early settlers experienced. Present-day Sweet Mountain was settled in the 1840s after Moody Mill was constructed on the creek that ran behind the municipal building. The mill was long gone, but the three historic buildings dating back to the same date, including the famous Sweet Mountain covered bridge, still stood, though they were no longer operational. The bridge was the state’s oldest remaining covered bridge, listed on the National Register of Historic Places and part of the Georgia Covered Bridge Trail. A lot of photographers came from all over the states to photograph the rustic, wooden, lattice-covered bridge that crossed the creek. It was the only real draw to our little town unless you were a nature lover and enjoyed hiking, kayaking, and animal watching.

  Unlike a lot of millennial residents, I wasn’t itching to leave the area. Those who went away to college seemed to boomerang back after graduation. Our town seeped into your DNA and called you back when you were away too long. Until this thing with Carol, my life here had been peaceful.

  I made my way down the gravel trail that ran under the covered bridge, and tossed a leaf into the creek, then watched it flow downstream over the rocks and pebbles as I took a seat on the metal bench. My mind flew to the many possibilities and the frustration of being kept in the dark. Calvin said investigating a person was akin to slipping into their skin and examining the world from their eyes. The ramifications of delving into the ongoing investigation seemed inconsequential. What I needed was hard evidence. I thought of my favorite quote—the one I had framed and hung in the office during my first week on the job.

  “Physical evidence cannot be wrong; it cannot be perjured; it cannot be wholly absent. Only in its interpretation can there be error.” ~ Trace L. Kirk, 1974

  No truer words in the world of investigations had ever been uttered.

  Pulling out my cell, I called my uncle. I had no idea where he was or why he wasn’t here. When he answered on the second ring, I went into the developments without preamble.

  “Calm down. It sounds like the police are just going through the motions of showing Judge Timms they’re pursuing every possible lead. Your father’s attorney is present, and you have nothing to worry about. How’s your mother holding up?”

  “Well, she’s beside herself.”

  “She’ll adjust. Franny is as solid as a rock.” He sounded certain.

  That made me feel a little better. “Where are you?”

  “In Atlanta. The case got moved up. I left a voicemail on your phone as well as a note on your desk calendar that you never use.”

  Of course, I didn’t use a physical calendar. Who did these days? It wouldn’t send alerts or notify you of appointment changes. I’d asked Uncle Calvin to send me calendar invites in lieu of the old, archaic snail mail way.

  “Okay, sorry. I’ve been a little preoccupied. Don’t worry about a thing.” Time to woman up! “I can handle things while you’re away.”

  “I believe that, and it makes me feel better to hear the police are acting on leads. I’ll be in and out of pocket. Just leave me a message, and as I said before, be vigilant.”

  “Always.” I tried to make my voice calm and firm. “Take care.”

  As I slid the phone back into my bag, I let out a long, slow breath. I could handle this. Everything would work out. Yes, this was a good thing. If the police followed every shred of evidence to each lead, we’d find out who did this. With great difficulty, I pushed the image of her, from the last time I saw her, out of my mind, and the fleeting optimism began to fade.

  “Lyla,” a male voice said from my left.

  My hands flew in the air, and I jumped, turning toward the intruder.

  Quinn’s hands were raised in a defensive posture. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I kept my tone low.” He shook his head as if he were inwardly chiding himself. “But not low enough. I could see you were deep in thought. I’m sorry.”

  My hand went involuntarily to my heart. “It’s fine. You’re right. I was in my own world. Not your fault.”

  He made his way down the path, his dark-blue uniform spick and span. Quinn had always had a swagger about him, an allure I’d always found irresistible until he showed his inability to compromise. If a man couldn’t be supportive of my life choices, then he wasn’t a man I wanted in my life.

  “May I?” He motioned to the bench, and I scooted down. “I wasn’t sure you were still here. There’s a Hyundai in the parking lot, but last I checked, you drove a red Nissan.”


  He kept apprised on my mode of transportation. Hmm.

  “It’d seen better days. I bought a new car.” I stared at the creek, listening to the subtle sounds of babbles. “Has my father been charged?”

  “No. We requested his cooperation with the ongoing investigation, and he adamantly refused. We brought him downtown to make the request more official. He left a few minutes ago, seeming to believe you’d done the same.”

  Daddy hadn’t known about my new purchase either. He probably figured I went back to the house to wait with Mother and Gran. I was eager to have a word with my father and his attorney, if possible. Perhaps Daddy would confide in me. Whatever wasn’t privileged anyway. Anything would help me. “I better go.” I started to rise, when his hand rested lightly on my forearm.

  “Stay, just for a minute.”

  Slowly, I sat back down and positioned myself so we were facing each other.

  He ran his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. He had the beginnings of a beard. Flecks of gray sprouted down his jawline, standing out on his tan face. His blue eyes were soft as he took me in. “How are you?”

  I met his gaze without a flinch. “Not great. What can you tell me? Gran said something about Carol having a watch engraved for my father. If she did, you know it was only because of transference. It happens when a patient feels her doctor understands her and wants to help.”

  “She did have one engraved. That’s all I can say at present. I’m sure you can get more information from him and his attorney.” He studied me.

  “That’s fair.” I cleared my throat. “And Melanie?”

  He shook his head. “We’re focusing our efforts elsewhere.”

  Relief flooded me. Time to get back on track. “How have you been? I heard you were getting married.”

  He glanced away. “No. It didn’t work out.” When he didn’t elaborate, I didn’t pry.

  “I do have something I should share with you.”

  “Oh?”

  I dug into my purse and pulled up the text. “I received this yesterday. Calvin said Carol had received a few weird texts and phone calls as well.”