“I don’t think so,” Paul said. “Someone would notice.”
I didn’t say that I thought people were just as likely to notice a flashlight beam passing over the windows of the office. In fact, they’d probably be more alarmed by that than they would if we’d simply turned on the overhead light.
But I wasn’t the cop. I trusted Paul to know what he was doing.
“I want to take a look at his desk,” I said, moving that way.
“Don’t touch anything.” Paul swung the light around to illuminate the large oak desk, which dominated the room.
I nodded absently as I approached. A stack of files sat on the corner of the desk beside a tray that held a few papers. I glanced at them, but the words meant nothing to me. Legalese was like another language to my eyes.
I moved around the side of the desk to stand where Brendon would have been sitting when he’d suffered the attack. The chair was pushed against the wall and had turned so that it faced the windows. A few crumbs lay on the floor from whatever he’d eaten. I was assuming toast.
My gaze moved from the floor to his desk. There, front and center, was a picture of Heidi Lawyer. She was smiling in the photo, which was something I had yet to see from her. The tired lines of her face vanished when she smiled, leaving her beautiful and young. I wondered if life with her husband had been what had washed most of her good looks away, or if it was something else, something that might have gotten Brendon killed.
“Hmm,” I said, stepping a little closer. It seemed strange for him to have a picture on his desk of the woman he was about to divorce. I suppose he could have had it there for appearances. He wanted people to trust him, so having a picture of his family sitting in plain view might help ease their minds.
Then again, the picture faced Brendon fully. There was no way anyone sitting across from the desk would have been able to see it. Had he really left it there? Or perhaps the killer had placed it there so that the last thing he saw before he died was his wife’s smiling face?
I was about to turn away when I noticed the faint dusting on the desk. It was almost invisible and I wouldn’t have seen it at all if it hadn’t been for a chance turn of the light. I wanted to run my finger through it like you’d see in the movies, but I didn’t have gloves on and Paul had told me not to touch anything.
“What’s this?” I asked, motioning to the dust.
He shrugged. “The room has sat empty for a few days now. It’s not surprising there’d be dust.”
I frowned. Dust accumulated, sure, but this seemed to be more than a normal amount. From what little I knew of Brendon Lawyer, he seemed like a man who would have had his office dusted every single day, meaning an awful lot would have had to build up in the short time since his death.
I turned and found myself looking at a filing cabinet beneath an air vent. There was something sitting on the cabinet. I walked over to it to find an open pack of Splenda sitting beside what looked like a ring a coffee cup might make. The entire cabinet top was covered in dust. Only the ring itself wasn’t coated in it.
“Looks like Raymond didn’t clean up here at all,” I said, putting my hands behind my back so I wouldn’t touch anything.
“Not surprising,” Paul said. “No one would bother looking there when they came in.”
Still, it looked like an awful lot of dust. With Brendon’s job, he was probably in and out of this cabinet all of the time. And while there was dust in the ring, where he’d obviously set his coffee cup, it wasn’t as thick as it was elsewhere on the cabinet top.
The click of the front door opening shattered my thoughts. I hissed in a breath and turned frightened eyes to Paul, who instantly turned off the flashlight, nearly leaving us in pitch-black darkness. There was the faintest trace of moonlight sifting in through one of the blinds behind me, so I moved away from them as not to give myself away.
The door to Brendon’s office still hung open. Both Paul and I were too far away to close it without notice. Even if we’d been standing right there, it probably would have been a bad idea to push it closed. We had to hope that whoever had come in wasn’t interested in Brendon’s office.
A flashlight clicked on. Paul backed up against the wall so that he wouldn’t be able to be seen from the doorway. I ducked down behind Brendon’s desk, very nearly atop the coffee stain on the carpet.
My heart was pounding. Footsteps approached slowly. Light from the flashlight bobbed in time with the coming steps.
Had Raymond Lawyer come back to work? Had he planned on working from home and had forgotten something important? Could it be a Good Samaritan, checking to see who had entered the office so late at night?
Or perhaps it was the killer. He could have been watching the place, waiting for someone just like me to come along and interfere. I’d been asking questions. Maybe the killer knew I’d do something stupid like this and was going to put an end to my inquisitive ways for good.
God, I was as good as dead.
The flashlight lit up the room. I sucked in a breath and held it. I was trembling so much, I knew everyone in the room could hear my bones rattling. I could just make Paul out where he’d eased back behind the open door so that he’d be invisible unless the person with the light stepped into the room and turned around.
“I can see you.” It was a strong male voice that had spoken. The light settled on the desk. “Stand up so I can get a better look at you.”
Was this a trick? Could he actually see me, or was he trying to draw me out? I hunched my shoulders and ducked my head even more. Though if he could see me already, I didn’t know what moving would accomplish, other than verify I was there.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to find out. Paul cried out and leapt out from behind the door. He knocked the flashlight out of the man’s hand. As he grabbed for the man’s arms, Paul shouted, “Police!” I shot to my feet and tried to watch it all in the spiraling light of the fallen flashlight. “Stay where you are.”
“No,” the man with the deep voice said. “You stay where you are.”
There was a moment of silence when no one moved.
“John?” Paul asked. The flashlight stopped spinning and illuminated the two men where they stood.
“Dalton?” the man—John—said. He was wearing a police uniform.
The two men stared at each other.
“Are you kidding me?” Officer John said with a disbelieving chuckle.
“Let me explain.” Paul looked pale.
“No.” A smile broke out over John’s face. “I don’t think so.” He reached into a pocket and removed a pair of zip strips. “I’m placing both of you under arrest for breaking and entering.”
Paul’s shoulders sagged. He didn’t fight back as his hands were zipped together. Then John turned on me.
“Please turn around,” he said as he approached.
With little choice I did as he said. Our first date and I managed to get us both arrested. What were the chances?
Officer John jerked my hands behind my back. I could feel the satisfaction radiating off him.
“Hot damn,” he said. “This is going to be fun.”
13
Paul sat beside me in what I assumed was the interrogation room of the Pine Hills police station, though it looked like a lounge to me. There was the requisite table in the middle of the room, but the couch we were sitting on and the coffee machine across from us ruined the effect. Above our heads there was a dartboard, which looked well used. Unless they threatened to use our heads as targets, I doubted it was much use for interrogations.
Officer John Buchannan—I’d learned his last name on the way to the station—leaned against the wall by the door, grinning. When Paul tried to talk to him, John warned him to remain silent until Chief Dalton had arrived. He treated us like a couple of common criminals, which I suppose we were. Still, I didn’t think he needed to go so far as to arrest us like we were going to make a run for it. We were still zip stripped up.
Officer Buchannan
had that look about him that spoke of a need to prove himself. He knew who Paul was, knew his mom was the chief of police, which meant he knew that anything the prodigal son did would only hurt her position and elevate his own. He was relishing this far more than he would have if he’d caught real burglars at work. His grin threatened to cut his face in two.
The door opened. Officer Buchannan straightened, though his smug grin didn’t leave his face. Patricia Dalton stepped inside the room to which he gave a sharp, “Ma’am,” before he stepped back against the wall.
“What were you thinking?” Patricia said, closing the door. She was wearing her uniform, though it looked as if she’d thrown it on in a hurry. John had called her up at home and made her come all the way down here.
“Chief, I . . .” Paul trailed off at a sharp look from his mom.
“You were irresponsible,” she said. “You made yourself look bad. You made me look bad.” She turned to me. “And you . . . you managed to make yourself look guilty of something I know you didn’t do. Why on earth would you two sneak in there like that?”
“It’s my fault,” I said before Paul could speak. All Chief Dalton could do to me was throw me in jail for a few days. She couldn’t fire me, like she could her son. “I talked him into it. I wanted to see a real crime scene and asked him to take me.”
“I didn’t exactly resist,” Paul said, doing himself no favors.
Patricia sighed. “The only crime scene is the one you created. Brendon Lawyer’s death was an accident. There was nothing to see there because there wasn’t a crime until you showed up!”
I clamped my mouth closed. I had my doubts about how much of an accident his death really was, and I assumed the police had to have the same doubts. However, to voice them now would only get me into more trouble than I was already in.
Patricia walked over to us, produced a knife, and then cut our bindings loose. Both Paul and I immediately began rubbing at our sore wrists. If it hadn’t been so pathetic, it might have been cute.
“I never want to catch either of you doing something like this ever again. That building is privately owned. You have no business there, even though you might have a key.” She stared hard at Paul. “Speaking of which . . .” She held out her hand.
Paul reached into his pocket and produced the key. He dropped it into her hand.
From where he stood by the wall, John smirked. He was thoroughly enjoying this. I gave him a good glare before turning back to Patricia.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “This is all my fault. I didn’t know we were doing anything wrong.”
Before turning to face John, she gave me a look that said, “How stupid do you think I am?”
“Go take a walk, Buchannan,” she said. John jumped at the sound of her voice and the smug grin faded.
He looked from where Paul and I sat, side by side on the couch, to the police chief. His face hardened as realization set in. He knew we were going to get away with this without much more than a slap on the wrist. I had a feeling he’d been hoping she would toss us both in a cell for a little while. He probably already had plans to post the pictures all over Facebook.
For a moment I thought he might actually argue. His face contorted, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and his eyes hardened. Then, with a huff, like a good little officer, he nodded once before he turned and stormed out of the room. He slammed the door behind him.
Patricia faced away from us for what seemed an eternity. She was rubbing her forehead with one hand while the other tapped lightly on the table. Paul shifted uncomfortably next to me as we awaited the next onslaught. I had no doubt we were in for a good long lecture.
“So,” Patricia said, turning, “how did the date go?”
I’m pretty sure my jaw hit my chest. I wasn’t too sure because Paul just about choked on his own tongue beside me and was sputtering out random gibber-jabber in an effort to come up with something to say. Whatever he’d expected to happen, this wasn’t it.
“Come on,” Patricia said. She sat down on the edge of the interrogation table, glancing toward the door as if to make sure Officer Buchannan was really gone. “Spill it.”
“Well,” Paul said carefully, “we went out to eat.”
“The Banyon Tree?” she asked.
We both nodded.
She winced. “No wonder you decided to find something else to do. One of these days, I’m going to find a way to hit those two with enough violations, they’ll be forced to pack up their grease bucket restaurant and find another town to poison.”
I didn’t want to mention that I’d actually liked the food there, so I simply twiddled my thumbs. Paul, likewise, only nodded, as if agreeing, though he’d said he went there every day.
“What could have possibly possessed you two to abandon a night out together and snoop around Lawyer’s Insurance?” she asked, leaning forward. “Did you find anything to make the trouble you’re in worth it?”
“No,” Paul answered. “It was as we left it.”
I clenched my teeth. If I were to bring up the picture and the dust, I’d just sound insane. I’m not sure why the police were so gung ho about classifying it as an accident, but I was pretty sure they wouldn’t want me telling them they were wrong. Maybe once I had something more concrete, I could present it to them. Until then, I was on my own.
Patricia yawned and stretched. “Well, the next time you decide to finish off a date by breaking and entering, run it by me first.” She stood. “There are far better ways to end a date, if you catch my meaning.” She gave me an exaggerated wink.
I caught her meaning, all right, but I didn’t want to. My face flushed about as red as Paul’s did. We both stood to cover our embarrassment.
“I need to get some sleep.” Patricia moved to the door. She rested her hand on the knob, but didn’t turn it right away. “You two should probably get to bed soon.” She winked again, this time with a grin, before opening the door and leaving the room.
I stood frozen beside Paul, not quite certain how I wanted to interpret his mom’s words. I’m really not so sure there were too many ways to take them that weren’t dirty. She was far too interested in her son’s sex life—that was for sure.
“I’m sorry about that,” Paul said, turning. He could hardly look me in the eye. “Looks like we’re getting off with a warning, though I’m not so sure that makes this any better. First date and I get you arrested.”
“I think it’s the other way around,” I said. “If I wouldn’t have brought it up, we wouldn’t have been there to get caught.”
He gave me a wan smile, telling me he didn’t quite agree. Men. Why can’t they let a woman take responsibility once in a while?
“Let me get you home,” he said after a brief, uncomfortable silence.
“Okay.”
He led the way out of the interrogation room, into the station proper.
Just like the force, the Pine Hills police station wasn’t very big. The front room held a reception desk up front and a few other desks farther in, where the officers did their paperwork. A door at the far end led to Chief Dalton’s office. The bathrooms were across the room from that, and a stairwell was next to them. I assumed they led down to the jail cells.
John Buchannan stood by his desk, glowering. There was only one other officer in the room, but she was busy at a copy machine in the back. She didn’t look up as we passed. Since Buchannan had been out on patrol earlier, I was assuming she was the night desk clerk.
I didn’t breathe until we were out in the cool, clear night. A part of me had feared I’d never see the stars again. I imagined being dragged every hour from my cell to be interrogated brutally by Officer Buchannan, before being shoved back into my closet-sized cage. Clearly, I’d watched too many overly dramatic crime dramas in my time. I took a deep breath, let it out, and then practically sagged into Paul’s car.
We rode in silence back to my place. It seemed like we did a lot of that when we were together. Was it a bad sign that we r
arely had much to say to one another?
I was worried that just because we’d gotten off with a warning, it didn’t mean we’d avoided a disaster. Paul would have to deal with the rest of the force poking fun at him, especially since he was the chief’s son, and I had a feeling Raymond Lawyer wouldn’t take too kindly to the fact we’d been snooping around. Not only that, but I was now going to be known as the girl who got arrested breaking into Lawyer’s Insurance. I was under no illusions that the rumor patrol wouldn’t pick up on the story within the hour.
Paul pulled his car up in front of my house. He didn’t turn off the engine. He didn’t even look at me as we sat there. It was clear he wasn’t interested in coming in for a nightcap. I wasn’t even sure he would ever want to see me again after this. It was my idea that had gotten him into trouble.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” he said after a moment. “I’d envisioned things ending a little differently.” He paused and frowned. “Of course, I didn’t envision them ending quite like my mom did, either.”
I laughed. As unpleasant as being zip stripped and being hauled downtown had been, I hadn’t entirely hated my night. In a way the whole thing was sort of exciting.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I had fun.” And strangely, I meant it.
He snorted. “Right,” he said. “Getting arrested is part of every girl’s dream of a perfect date.”
“Really,” I said to assure him. “It was an adventure. Dates are rarely this exciting, especially first ones.” I said the last in a way that I hoped told him I was interested in there being more.
A small smile lit up his cheeks. There were those dimples I’d been missing. I’d been starting to worry I’d never see them again.
“I hope you won’t hold it against me if I don’t resort to criminal activity to impress you the next time?”
“I’ll try not to.”
There was a moment of silence wherein we both knew what was supposed to come next, but we weren’t brave enough to take that step. I could feel eyes on us and knew Eleanor Winthrow was watching from her seat by the window. I’d left my outside light on and it shone right through the windshield, like a spotlight, illuminating us for the world to see.
Death by Coffee Page 11