“We can feel guilty later,” Cathy said. “Right now let’s just focus.” She opened the car door. “Are you going to stay in the car with Robbie?”
“No,” Juliet said. “I want to hear what they say. I’ll take him with us. Maybe he’ll make us seem less threatening.”
Robbie was in a good mood after his nap, and his fever seemed to have broken. Juliet handed him a teething biscuit and got him out of his seat. When Cathy rang the bell, she heard footsteps, then felt as though someone was looking out the peephole. There was noise around the lock, then the door opened.
A woman who seemed about fifty looked suspiciously out at them. “Hello.”
“Hi. I’m Cathy Cramer, and this is my sister Juliet, and her son Robbie.”
The woman smiled at the baby. “What can I do for you?”
“We’re looking for our sister, and we think she’s with your son.”
The smile vanished. “I don’t know where he is. I’m sorry.”
She started to close the door, but Cathy spoke again. “Please . . . could we come in and talk to you?”
“We’re not police,” Juliet said quickly. “Creed was at my house with our sister this morning, and something wasn’t right. I was babysitting for her, and she picked up her daughter and they left together. Then we realized who he was. We think he’s holding her hostage.”
The door opened again, and now a man stood with the woman in the doorway. He looked outside for any other cars on the street, then ushered them in. “Come in.”
The tidy house had been decorated with love—tchotchkes and family pictures covering the walls and every surface. Pictures of Creed when he was a kid, playing baseball, football, fishing with his dad, laughing with his family. He didn’t look as rough as he had this morning. And he looked nothing like a killer. But killers didn’t all look evil.
Sunshine poured in through the back windows of the house, but it was quiet, and the TV was off. Mr. Kershaw led them to the kitchen table, where two Bibles lay open.
Christians, she thought. This must be torturous for them.
“Sit down,” he said. “I’m Creed’s dad, Frank.”
They all shook hands, and Mrs. Kershaw—who told them to call her Sandra—offered them coffee, which they declined. When they’d all sat down, Frank asked them about the visit. “You say he was there this morning? At your house?”
Juliet told them about Holly’s disappearance and her odd behavior this morning.
“Could she be a girlfriend?” his mother asked, deep lines of sorrow on her face.
“Our sister wasn’t seeing anyone. She’s a single mom, and she’s got a lot on her plate. She knew him, but I don’t think they’d seen each other in several months.”
“So maybe she’s helping him?”
“We don’t think so. She would have given us some explanation. It was all very strange.”
Sandra looked at Frank, her mouth compressed and twisted. “My son is a good boy. He didn’t kill that man. He’s gotten in with the wrong people . . . dangerous people. He’s in over his head, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
Frank rubbed his jaw. “He’s had a hard time since graduating from high school. He didn’t get into the college he wanted, so he went to community college, then dropped out and decided to just work. Waiting tables didn’t support him. Then he started using drugs.”
“What drugs?” Cathy asked.
“Marijuana at first, but then we think he graduated to cocaine. Couple of weeks ago he seemed to come to his senses. Told us he’d stopped using and wanted to quit waiting tables and come work for me. We felt like we had him back. Only now we hear that he might have been selling cocaine, and that this situation with this man he was supposed to have killed was a drug deal.”
“We know he was doing something bad,” Sandra said, wiping her face, “but if you knew him . . . he’s got so much compassion for people. He once hurt a guy in a football game—broke his leg when he tackled him—and he cried about it for days. He would have taken the break himself if he could have. He would never take anybody’s life.”
Juliet turned Robbie on her lap so that he was facing out. He smiled at them, and the misery on Sandra’s face faded slightly. She breathed a laugh and took his little hand.
“Mrs. Kershaw . . . Sandra,” Cathy said, “can you tell us who his friends were? Who we might talk to to find our sister?”
“He had friends at the restaurant where he worked, but the police have questioned them. One of his closest friends there is a girl named Brittany.”
Cathy wrote that down.
“I’m just so relieved to know that Creed is alive, that he was okay this morning.” Sandra started to cry again, and Frank put his arm around her and stroked her back. “This isn’t him,” she said. “He’s not like this. He’s a good boy at heart. He just took a wrong turn.”
Juliet met Cathy’s eyes. How many times had they said the same about Holly?
Satisfied that his parents didn’t know where Creed was, Cathy and Juliet went back to their car. “Where to?” Cathy asked. “His sister or Brittany?”
“Brittany,” Juliet said. “I guarantee you Holly talked to her yesterday.”
CHAPTER 27
Holly held Lily to her chest and stared at Creed. “What do you know about Leonard Miller?”
“I know people who work for him, people who could lead you to him. Back when your brother-in-law died, Miller moved up in the operation. He’s back in town.”
“How do you know? Have you seen him?”
“I told you—he was there when Loco was killed.”
“You’re sure it was Leonard Miller?”
“Yes. They called him Lenny, and I remembered him from all the news reports. His hair was different, but I knew his face. He was calling the shots.”
“Did he kill Loco?”
“No, but he ordered it. When I got cut, it was Miller who stopped the dude who attacked me and told me to take off my shirt and put pressure on the wound. I thought he was protecting me. But he wanted my blood there and my prints on the gun. He wanted Loco and me both dead, and he was going to stage it to look like we killed each other.”
“Why?”
“He thought we were snitches. He wanted his people to see what happens to traitors, and he didn’t want the police looking for the real killer.”
Holly could walk away right now, and there was nothing Creed could do to stop her. But Leonard Miller . . . they’d searched for him for so long. He’d killed people she cared about. People her sisters loved. He’d ruined so many lives.
“I don’t even know how I’m still alive,” Creed said. “There was this fence next to us, and a big drop-off down into a ravine. I got over it, rolled down. They shot at me, but somehow I didn’t get hit. It was dark, so I was able to get away once I hit bottom. Miller must be furious that his plan failed. He won’t stop until he finds me.”
Holly moved her face to Lily’s head, felt her child breathing on her neck. She tried to keep her voice calm. “He killed my sister’s fiancé. Then he killed my brother-in-law. Michael’s in jail because of him, and he’s still out there murdering people.”
Creed’s eyebrows lifted, as if he’d finally wedged her door open. “That’s right! Don’t you want to find him? If you help me, I’ll help you.”
Holly touched the doorknob. “I can find him without you.”
“Oh really? Have you seen him since he got away? Did you know he was back in town? Do you even have a starting place?”
She tried to think. “How do I know you even know anything? You could just be lying to keep me from turning you in.”
He sighed. “I don’t even own a gun. I had to steal yours, and then I took the bullets out so no one would get hurt. Do you really think I’d kill someone?”
“I don’t know you!” she cried. “I don’t know anything about you! You’re just some guy that I was attracted to when I was too drunk to think! For all I know you could be a killer.”
“Holly, I’m an idiot. I know that. I’ve done some really stupid things. I got myself into a mess, and I need help . . .” His voice broke off, and his face twisted. He turned away.
Holly’s heart raced as she bent and put the baby into the car seat, snapped her in, then hooked her arm under the handle. She had to go before he stopped her.
“Rio said you’re a PI,” Creed said. “That they talked about you in the papers, all about how you and your sisters helped break up the drug ring. You know how to help me. I could help you find Miller, and you could help me prove I didn’t kill that guy. I’m not under arrest yet. You said there’s not even a warrant. I could get protection and a lawyer. Maybe your sister could represent me.”
“Why would I trust you? You kidnapped me!”
“But I didn’t hurt you. I didn’t hurt Lily. I would never do anything to hurt my daughter.”
“Don’t call her that!”
“But it’s true, Holly. She’s my daughter.”
Tears burned her eyes. “So . . . what? If you get off, if you don’t go to jail and Miller doesn’t kill you, what are you going to want from me? Custody? Visitation? What?”
“I don’t know. I just want her to know she has a father who loves her.”
“You don’t love her. You just met her.”
He tilted his head, and his face softened. “Did you love her the minute she was born?”
Holly didn’t know why she was still here, arguing with him. She opened the door. “I’m leaving, Creed. I can’t help you.”
“Don’t go, Holly. Please.”
She looked out. No one seemed to be parked on the street watching them. She stepped down.
“Holly, they’re going to kill me. I can only hide for so long.”
She turned back, wishing she didn’t care. “Creed, go turn yourself in. Tell them you can lead them to Miller. They might give you immunity if you help them. That’s the right thing to do.”
“How do I know they’ll even listen?”
Holly hesitated. “I know people in the police department. Michael’s brother Max . . . he wants his brother’s murderer caught. He’s a detective in Major Crimes. He’ll listen.”
“If I do . . . if I call them and turn myself in, will you wait here with me, Holly?”
Holly looked down at her sleeping baby. Where would she go if she left on foot? She could call a cab—one of her buddies would surely come—or she could notify the police herself. Cathy and Juliet would gladly come, but it would take awhile for them to get to Pensacola.
What would it hurt to just wait with him? Sometimes people needed help doing the right thing.
She stepped back in and closed the door. “Do you promise that you’ll turn yourself in? That this isn’t just a trick to make me stay?”
“I promise, Holly. I’ll call right now.”
She considered that, then blew out a ragged breath. “All right,” she said. “Go ahead and call, and I’ll wait here with you.”
CHAPTER 28
The Gourmet Crab Bar and Grill in Southport was busy. Football lit up every screen in the dim restaurant, and both men and women sat with mugs of beer and seafood as they locked in on the games. Cathy led Juliet in—her sister holding Robbie on her hip. Cathy scoped the room, saw a blonde girl working at the bar. Moving closer, she read her name tag.
“That’s her,” she said. “Let’s go sit at the bar.”
Juliet gasped. “I can’t do that!”
Cathy turned. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t drink! What if someone from my church sees me?”
“Juliet, I think you’ll be okay if you sit on a barstool.”
“But with a baby? They’ll think I’m a terrible mother.”
“Who cares what they think?” Cathy whispered harshly. “We have to talk to her!”
Sighing, Juliet followed her. Cathy pulled out a barstool for her, but Juliet couldn’t make herself sit all the way on it. Uncommitted, she leaned against it, as if about to leave.
They watched the girl tending to the customers on the other side of the square bar. She seemed brooding, distracted, tired. After a few minutes, she made her way to them. “Help you?”
“Yes,” Cathy said. “We were just at Creed Kershaw’s parents’ house, and we understand you’re a friend of his.”
Brittany stiffened. “Yeah. And?”
“And we think our sister might have come by to talk to you yesterday. Her name is Holly.” Cathy showed her a picture. “She’s blonde now, though. She doesn’t have the pink anymore.”
The girl glanced at the picture, then looked hard at each of them. “Yeah, I saw her, but it wasn’t yesterday. Night before, maybe.”
“She’s not answering her phone. We’re worried about her, and we know she’s with Creed.”
“No way,” Brittany said. “She’s not with him. Nobody knows where he is.” She glanced away as she said that—a clear tell that she wasn’t being honest. She twisted her face in angry puzzlement, then looked back at Cathy. “Why would you think she’s with him?”
“Because she is,” Juliet said. “They came to my house together this morning to get her baby. He was with her.”
Brittany grunted. “Creed? Are you sure it was him?”
“Positive.”
She frowned and considered that. “Were they in the motor home?”
So they were hiding in a motor home. That explained the proximity of Holly’s cab to the RV park. “No, they were in her cab,” Cathy said.
Brittany considered that. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“What do you mean?” Juliet asked.
“He’s . . . he doesn’t want to be found. She asked me where he was but I didn’t tell her . . .” She glanced away again. “Because I didn’t know.”
“When’s the last time you saw him?” Cathy asked.
Brittany hesitated, then glanced at her boss near the kitchen. She got a rag and wiped the counter to appear busy. “The last time he worked, over a week ago.”
“Are you sure?” Cathy asked.
Brittany hesitated. “Look, Creed didn’t kill anybody. This police hunt . . . it’s stupid. They’re going to find out he’s innocent.”
“We’re just looking for Holly,” Juliet said. “Come on, help us out a little. She came here looking for him, and we saw them together, and now we think she’s in danger.”
“Danger from Creed? I told you, he’s not dangerous, and he wouldn’t be with her. He just wouldn’t.”
There was something there, Cathy thought. An attachment . . . jealousy. “Brittany, has he ever mentioned having a baby?”
“With me? We’re not like that. We’re not dating.”
“No, with someone else. Has he told you that someone else just gave birth to his child?”
Now Brittany’s face visibly reddened, and her hand stilled. “As a matter of fact, he has.”
Juliet touched Cathy’s hand, stopping her from going further.
“I know Holly’s the one. She practically admitted it to me. Who knows? Maybe he contacted her. If he did after all the secrecy . . .” She threw her rag down and bit her bottom lip. “I have nothing else to say about Creed Kershaw.” Shaking her head, she disappeared into the kitchen.
Realizing that they wouldn’t get more, Cathy and Juliet headed out. “Why would you broadcast that about the baby?” Juliet whispered. “That’s not our secret to share.”
“I wanted to see her reaction. She and Creed may not have a relationship, but trust me, that’s not because she doesn’t want one. She definitely showed signs of jealousy. I thought she might get mad enough to stop protecting him.”
They reached the car and Juliet put Robbie in his seat. “Still . . . do you think she told Holly anything about where he is?”
“Not a chance.”
“So what would Holly have done?”
“Same thing we would have done—followed her after she got off work. Maybe for a couple of nights.”
; “And you think Brittany led her to Creed?”
“Maybe.”
“But Holly’s not stupid. She wouldn’t have just knocked on his door, would she? And he sure wouldn’t have answered. If what she told Max is true—that she wanted to find him to turn him in to the police—then that’s what she would have done.”
“They wound up together somehow. We know that.”
“Motor home,” Juliet said. “Her cab was found right outside that RV park. How many RV parks are there in this area?” Juliet used her phone to do a Google search.
“Nobody at that RV park had seen her,” Cathy said.
“Maybe they’ve seen Creed,” Juliet said. “Let’s go back and show the park manager his picture and find out who checked out last night or this morning. Maybe that’ll give us a tag number or a description of the motor home.”
“They could be anywhere by now. They could have left town.”
“While you drive,” Juliet said, “I’ll get a list of RV parks within a three-hundred-mile radius.”
“Hang on, Holly,” Cathy whispered, pulling back into traffic. “We’re coming.”
CHAPTER 29
Creed kept his word. Holly listened as he called Information to get the number for the Southport Police Department. Then he called the PD—on speakerphone so Holly could hear—and asked for the homicide unit. The town was too small to have one, so he was transferred to the criminal unit. As he waited on hold, he paced in front of the windows, peering out, nervous and watchful.
Uneasy, Holly sat with her arm through the car seat handle, ready to run out with Lily if necessary.
Finally someone picked up. “Yeah, hi,” Creed said. “My name is Creed Kershaw. I understand you want me to come in for questioning about Emilio Juarez’s murder.”
Holly strained to hear the other voice, but suddenly Creed jerked back from the window. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Hold on.” He pointed. “It’s them,” he told Holly.
She stood and looked through the window. Two men stood at the door of the camper three spaces down, talking to someone inside. Across the driveway, another man was approaching the door of an RV.
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