“Marilyn.” Parker sat back and opened his arms. Nothing to hide, Detective.
Landers relaxed his posture in response. Watching body language was fascinating stuff.
Aaron looked confused, and Rutledge laced his fingers behind his head and nodded to him. “Vic’s sister. Killed in an accident when she was sixteen, my research says.”
“His parents already lost one child?” Aaron shuddered.
Parker, who was still nursing Tony and Ashton through the loss of their son, flinched at the mention of Burke’s parents. “They were devastated.” His emerald eyes searched an aerial photo of the city that covered most of the wall behind Aaron’s head, taking on a faraway memory-lane sheen. Everyone in the room leaned in.
Parker shook his head, flicking moisture from the corner of his left eye. “She said she felt free for the first time in her life. Wanted to do all the things she’d read about and daydreamed about and never tried. Growing up with all that money sounded great to me, but to hear Marilyn tell it, the restrictions that came with it were stifling. Not worth it. She’d had enough.”
Landers opened his mouth, but thought better of speaking as Parker went on. “It was a Sunday. We went skinny dipping, made love in a field, climbed a mountain—she was seriously up for anything. Wanted to go for a walk after dinner. It was so cool out. Weird for July, even at night. She was wearing a sundress and this little blue sweater. We got to talking and didn’t realize how far we’d gone until we were way out by the train tracks. She hopped up on the rail, walking along it like a balance beam. I kept telling her to get down, but she was laughing, calling me a chicken. I swear I begged her not to go out on the bridge. She said she’d always wanted to, and she was teasing that the rush was better than sex, telling me I had work to do—” His voice cracked and the lawmen in the room exchanged uneasy glances. None of us wanted to hear what came next.
“A train? Jesus, Parker. I’m so sorry.” I’m not sure the words made it out loud enough for him to hear them.
He sniffled. “She was right in the middle of the bridge when we heard the whistle. She was wearing these ridiculous shoes,” he shot me a look, “and she couldn’t run. It was a forty-foot drop to a rocky creek bed below. She screamed…” He put his hands over his ears like he could still hear it.
I put a hand on his back and Kyle laid one on his shoulder. Landers shook his head, speechless for the first time since I met him.
“So Burke blamed you because you were with her.” The sheriff didn’t bother with the question inflection at the end of his sentence.
“That would certainly explain these.” Aaron waved to the folder full of emails and sat back with a heavy sigh. “Damn.”
Parker pulled in a hitching breath. “I knew Mitch hated me. For a long time, I hated myself. I pushed so hard, trying to make her proud of me. But I took everything that went wrong in my life as punishment. For not protecting her. My shoulder. The fact that I never felt that way about another girl. It was all just what I got for not being able to help her.”
“You’re in love with your fiancé?” Landers asked, and I widened my eyes his way. What kind of question was that?
Parker nodded. “I never thought it’d happen for me again. I guess I’d decided people only get one. And then Mel…she’s amazing.”
“So Burke threatening her,” Landers cast a disgusted look at the papers in his lap before he returned his eyes to Parker, “that’s why you went to his home, banging on the door and screaming obscenities? The lady down the hall described you pretty well.”
Parker spread his hands. “Look, gentlemen, I’m not proud of my temper fit, but when Bob showed me those emails—I mean, I knew Burke had been after me for a lot of years, but…whatever. He couldn’t possibly be as mad at me as I was at myself, you know? But I knew from way back that he was kind of messed up. Marilyn told me a story once about a stray cat that I’ll spare you. Suffice it to say, I hadn’t been as scared as I was reading those in years. Not since I stood there that night watching that train come and knowing there wasn’t a damned thing I could do.”
Landers hit on that. “But this time, there was something you could do. You knew where to find Burke.”
That was his best moving-in-for-the-confession voice. I patted Parker’s arm.
“But I didn’t. Find him. He never came to the door, and he wasn’t at the ballpark, and by the time I got through looking those two places, I had regained some measure of sanity. I went to gym and blew off some steam, and then I went back to the office and picked Melanie up and stayed with her. We were leaving the next morning to go to Dale’s for the rehearsal anyway.”
Something tickled the back of my brain, but I couldn’t pin it down. I focused on Aaron. If he wasn’t convinced Parker had done anything wrong, I still had time to figure this mess out.
“And what time did you arrive at Mr. Sammons’s place?” the sheriff asked.
“We stopped at Sugar Shack for breakfast. Mel said she’d had it with low carb. Probably ten? Dale’s niece showed us the cabin and we took a walk, then had some lunch.” Parker smiled. “It was a nice day.”
“And when did you first see Mr. Burke?” Rutledge asked. He tried for nonchalant, but he wasn’t nearly as good at that as Aaron.
Parker shrugged. “I didn’t. I told you, I didn’t find him. I kept watching for his truck to turn up at Dale’s, but it never did. I watched Melanie all weekend—even when I wasn’t with her, I made sure she was safe. I went for a run Saturday morning, but I stayed where I could see the cabin. Until Nichelle told me he was gone.”
I was so relieved to hear that I almost yelped when he said it, but managed to keep quiet.
There was that tickle again. What? I closed my eyes and tried to focus, but not too hard. Trying to grab an elusive thought only ever made it float further away from me. I let the conversation around me fade into background noise. The sheriff kept dogging Parker about his whereabouts, and Parker kept the same calm, even tone in his answers.
Burke.
Burke wasn’t at his apartment Thursday afternoon. Or at work, Parker said.
Nobody I’d talked to had seen him at the vineyard Friday.
Hulk discovered the body because he was checking the wine.
How often would one do such a thing?
Leaping Louboutins.
My eyes flew open and I shot a hand up.
“Nichelle? You okay?” Aaron’s Virginia drawl had an interested uptick in octave.
“When was the last time anyone saw Burke? Y’all keep asking when Parker saw him, but what if Parker couldn’t find him because he was already dead?”
22.
New trail
Parker’s chiseled jaw went slack and everyone else in the room fell quiet. Kyle found his voice first. “Sheriff? You have a time of death yet?”
The sheriff shook his head. “The folks at the lab say it’s tricky because of the alcohol. It does something or other to the tissue and they have to work that out.” He shrugged. “I’m not a scientist.”
“But it is possible that he was there for more than a day?” I leaned forward, excited about my little epiphany. Everything was going to be okay. Aaron wouldn’t arrest Parker on a maybe.
“I suppose it is.” The sheriff tapped his fingers on his hat again. “Hopefully I’ll know more about that in the next few days.”
“I have a friend at the lab,” Kyle said. “I think. If she’ll still talk to me, I’ll see what I can do to push that along.”
I shot him a grateful smile.
“So then we’re done here?” I asked, moving to stand.
“For now,” Rutledge said, shooting me a glare.
Aaron got up and moved to the door. “Thank you for coming in.”
The sheriff followed Landers into the hallway, the two of them seemingly making plans to head over to the diamond. Kyle ushered Parker out the door, making small talk about baseball.
Aaron laid a hand on my arm when I moved to follow. �
�The county where this happened has limited resources, but the Burke family does not. I got special orders this morning to send my best homicide detective to accompany the sheriff on his investigation. But I got the distinct impression the investigation was mostly supposed to consist of this interview. Because I respect you, I’m telling you off the record, my gut says Richard Burke wants Grant Parker in a jail cell. I didn’t hear enough today to warrant that, and I’ll stand firm there. But if you know or can dig up anything on who might deserve that spot, it’d sure be a help—to me and your friend both.”
I smiled and hugged him, dropping my arms and stepping back after a quick second. “Sorry. I just—” I swallowed over a lump in my throat. “Parker is a good guy, Aaron. He didn’t do this. I know he didn’t.”
“Your gut is usually as accurate as mine. I’m going with you on that for now. But stay with this.”
“I have no intention of doing anything else. Hope the rest of your week is quiet.” I winked and turned for the door, then paused. “Aaron? Has Charlie called you about this?”
He settled in his chair and looked up, shaking his head. “Nope. I assumed she hadn’t caught wind of it, with it being so far away and no reports on it. Though I don’t expect it’ll stay that way. Especially not if Burke doesn’t get his way here.”
I nodded a thank you and strode after Parker and Kyle, my brain clicking through possibilities. Charlie had called our publisher asking specifically about Parker, but she hadn’t called Aaron about a murder investigation, and she had no story on it. What the hell did she know?
And what was she up to?
Kyle followed us back to the office, where we sent Parker upstairs with assurances that this would blow over and the wedding would be great. Kyle opened the passenger door of my little red SUV and climbed in, and I slid behind the wheel arching a questioning brow at him. “Where are we going?”
“I need more coffee, and we need to talk. So I’m thinking Thompson’s.”
I started the engine. “I always need more coffee.”
“And the company is nice too.” Kyle winked. “You don’t have to say it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Feeding your ego can be dangerous.” I stopped at a light and turned to him. “But seriously—thank you for coming this morning. It means more to me than I can say.”
“Why?”
The question caught me off guard and I shrugged, putting my foot back on the gas. “I guess I feel like you should have plenty of reasons to dislike me. Or at least to not be so nice. But you’re always there when I need you. Thanks.”
Kyle sighed. “Heavy for before my third cup of coffee.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Listen, Nicey, you have to stop being so hard on yourself. You’re not the girl I used to know—you’re more confident, and so much stronger. But you’re still such a damned perfectionist when it comes to how you think you’re supposed to be. Why should I dislike you? Because you’d rather date someone else? I guess there are guys who would, but that’s not me. You’re my friend. Is there a situation you can fathom where you wouldn’t be there for me if I called?”
I shook my head.
“Exactly.”
I blinked hard as I pulled into a spot at the coffeehouse. “You’re something else, you know it?” The throaty ring in the words put a furrow in his brow.
“What’s up?”
I shook my head, brushing impatiently at my eyes. “Too much stress. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. That’s part of what I was talking about. Why should you be sorry my eloquent little speech moved you to tears?” He sat back and puffed out his chest and I giggled, swatting his arm before I grabbed my bag and opened my door.
“Thank you. Again.”
“I like to make you laugh.”
I held the door for him and followed him to the counter, paying for his latte before he could dig out his wallet. “You’re doing me a favor. I can buy your coffee,” I said when he protested.
He rolled his eyes. “I like Parker too. But fine. Thank you.”
We commandeered the overstuffed mocha-colored armchairs in in the back corner of the shop, and I pulled a notebook and pen from my bag.
“So the biggest question is when Burke actually disappeared. If it was before Thursday afternoon, Parker had no motive,” Kyle said. “The sheriff is right that it’ll be hard for the lab to nail that down though. I worked a case once where a body was left in the dumpster behind an IHOP, and the syrup caused all kinds of headaches. Sugar makes tissue decompose faster.”
“Shit. And Hulk told me the wine they found Burke in was that sweet Riesling I liked so much.” I shook my head. “Between me and you, Aaron stopped me on the way out to tell me Richard Burke wants Parker to answer for this. Though I suspect, listening to Parker this morning, that Burke blames Parker for his daughter’s death and just can’t stick it to him legally.”
“Of course,” Kyle said. “Though that’s a problem for us.”
“Why’s that?”
“We don’t just have to prove it wasn’t Parker. Or that it’s not likely to have been Parker. We need to find out who it was. Otherwise, Burke could still pull strings and cause trouble for Grant. Lab reports can get lost—or falsified—for the right amount of money.”
I rolled my eyes. “And here I thought I was getting out of this particular frying pan.”
Kyle grinned, sipping his latte. “Welcome to the fire.”
“So far, the best lead we have is at the vineyard. You still up for driving out for a chat with Celia? I’m interested to see what you make of her. I have court at noon today, but we could go tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
I grabbed my coffee and my keys. “Thank you for offering to call Bonnie.” I hoped it wouldn’t be too awkward for Kyle to ask the forensic biologist he’d recently stopped seeing for help.
He stood and motioned an after-you. “Don’t thank me yet. She might tell me to go to Hell.”
“I know better.” I winked. “Holler if you find anything?”
He held the door for me and nodded. “Thanks for the coffee. See you tomorrow.”
I started the car and pulled away from the curb, wondering how in the world I could hold Charlie—and everyone else—off of Parker for another twenty-four hours.
Parked at my desk with forty-five minutes to spare, I pulled out my notes from the weekend.
Sammons’s name was the most popular word on all my lists. I snatched up the phone and called the medical examiner’s office, crossing my fingers around my pen as I asked for the autopsy file on Jolene Sammons. Surely they kept a copy, even though the exam had been done at someone else’s request.
The bureaucrat on the other end of the line was silent, clicking keys as he checked for the file. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said finally. “Looks like that one was moved to storage about three years ago.”
“Storage where? Can I go get it?”
“Not sure. We had a fire out there nine months ago. Many files were destroyed, and the ones that weren’t have been shuffled all over creation. I can put in an order for it, but it’ll be eight to ten weeks if it’s there at all.”
I slammed my hand down on my desk. I didn’t have two months.
I also had very little choice. I gave him the contact information he asked for and hung up, the file I’d created for chef Alexei last night catching my eye.
Clock check: six minutes.
I pulled up the translations I’d copied and studied them. Behind three cups of coffee, I still couldn’t follow a story, but I picked out keywords.
Poison.
Illness.
Judge.
Cheating.
Holy Manolos. Stuffing my laptop and a notebook into my bag, I snatched up my cell and texted Kyle as I rushed to the elevator.
What are the chances you have any friends in Moscow?
23.
Loyalty
DonnaJo’s backboard-shattering slam dunk of an opening statement barely
left shards and splinters for the defense to work with. By the time court recessed for the evening, I had a hand cramp—and a pretty good hunch Ironfists up there was going to prison for a good long while.
I stopped DonnaJo in the hallway and asked if her office might have a copy of an old autopsy report. Of course not. She took Jolene Sammons’s name anyway, promising to see if she could find anything.
Ducking Charlie in the parking lot, I sped back to the office to file the day-one story before six.
I walked in to find Bob sitting in my chair.
“I have a trial for the metro front,” I said, dropping my bag. “Good stuff. The RAU sports assault. DonnaJo is going to nail this guy to the wall.”
Bob, who had approved us printing the graphic photos of the defendant’s girlfriend’s patchwork of bruises, nodded. “Excellent. I’ll tease it on the front.”
He didn’t get up.
“What?” I asked, an edge of defensiveness creeping into my tone.
“Just checking to see if you’ve thought about my question from this morning. Are you proud of your Burke story like it is?”
I puffed out my cheeks, then blew the air out slowly. “I need to add a statement from the family. But that’s it.”
“There’s something you’re not saying.” Bob stood, his brows drawing down into a stern glare.
There was indeed. But sharing Parker’s trip to police HQ would just cause another fight, and there still wasn’t enough for me to change the story.
I sank into the chair, tapping my foot and fighting to keep my tone even. “I’ve always said people come before the story for me. Just by a hair. But this time, it’s by a football field. I did my level best to report the facts for you on this, and the facts do not include Parker. Not today. This is about so much past the headline, chief. And if we start it off giving everyone else reason to smell blood in the water, the sharks are going to eat Parker for lunch. Scandals get ratings. I will not be party to opening that vein.”
He watched my face for a minute, and I set it in my best I-won’t-budge glower.
Lethal Lifestyles (A Headlines in High Heels Mystery Book 6) Page 17