by Barb Han
There wasn’t much there from what Deacon could tell. Did the man sleep on the ground with no coverings? On second glance, Deacon saw a hint of color. Whatever it was couldn’t have been big enough to cover a grown man.
“Where’s his blanket?” Leah asked.
“Doesn’t have one. He sleeps sitting up. It’s the strangest thing but he swears it helps—” she flashed eyes at them before continuing “—keep his mind clear. Says if he lies down, the ants’ll crawl into his brain.”
It was clear that GW had issues.
“Do you have any idea when he’ll be back?” Leah seemed to already know the answer to the question but had to ask anyway.
“There’s no check-in time here at Casa Royal.” The older woman swept her arm across the air as though presenting a room in a five-star hotel to distinguished guests. She grinned, obviously pleased with herself for making a joke. “Haven’t seen him in at least two days.”
“If you do see him, will you give him one of my cards? He’s not in trouble. I just need a few minutes of his time.” Leah pulled out a card from her handbag and handed it to the woman. “Thank you.”
“Anytime. And bring handsome back if you come again.” The woman snickered, clearly feeling like she was on a roll.
Leah walked over to the spot GW called home. An army jacket was folded over next to the column. Leah picked it up and dusted it off. The name patch read Washington.
Knowing a veteran slept in these conditions was a gut punch to Deacon. He pulled out his phone and began making calls in order to set up a temporary shelter and provide food. That would accomplish phase one of his plan—a plan that was taking shape as he followed Leah away from the makeshift home for what had to be three dozen folks or more. If any one of these people wanted help, they’d have it.
Leah was quiet the rest of the way to the car. Once inside, she started the engine and then sat there, staring out the front windshield. “You have a habit of going around rescuing people? That some kind of Cowboy Code or something?”
“I can’t fix every problem. No one can. But I have a moral obligation to help anyone I meet who is in need of a hand up. It’s not a Cowboy Code. It’s being a decent human being.” Deacon meant it. His parents hadn’t brought him up to turn a blind eye to someone in need and he was fortunate to have the resources to follow through.
“That why you’re helping me? Moral code?” There was defeat in her voice and it took a minute for the reason to dawn on him.
“At first? Yeah. Something like that. But, now? I’m here because I have feelings for you, Leah. Feelings that are too new for me to be comfortable talking about them. All I know is that I need to know you’re going to be safe. I need to know Connor will be okay. That’s as far as I can let myself go right now.”
“Oh.” He hated the sound of disappointment in that one word.
“Can we just live in the moment? I’m doing my level best not to get too inside my head. I like the feeling of being around you. There’s something different when I’m with you. Is that enough for now?” He sure as hell hoped it would be because he couldn’t imagine walking away, and somewhere down deep he knew it was a lot more than just her well-being that was a magnet he didn’t want to pull away from.
* * *
LIVE IN THE MOMENT. Leah had been thinking the same thing earlier. Why did it feel somehow less than that to her now? She wasn’t ready to get inside her head, either.
The club would open soon.
“Jax should be at The Sloppy Pig by now.” She took in a deep breath. “Ready?”
“Let’s roll.”
The Sloppy Pig was a ten-minute drive from the underpass. The ride over was quiet. The air was still when Leah exited her vehicle.
She walked toward the bar. A feeling of the world righting itself came over her when she felt Deacon’s hand on the small of her back. It was probably a mistake to allow the gesture, the physical contact, to comfort her. It did.
The Sloppy Pig was one of those nightclubs with a DJ and several dark corners to congregate in. There were plenty of country and western bars in the area. This place wasn’t one of them. There was an edgier crowd here. People wearing mostly black clothes with dyed-black hair and multiple piercings patronized this place. Leah and her fellow officers knew The Sloppy Pig because it was a good place to scrounge up informants. Motorcycle gangs frequented the place.
The burly-looking young man in his late twenties who stood in front of the entrance was most likely Jax. Leah pulled her badge from inside her pocket and held it out as she approached. “Jax Hanks?”
The guy’s face paled. “Am I in some kind of trouble, Officer?”
That was a strange reaction from an innocent man. She held on to the thought but pushed it aside for the moment.
“Not if you haven’t done anything wrong,” she stated.
Jax’s gaze shifted from her to Deacon and she could tell Jax was sizing Deacon up. Yeah, Deacon was taller and more muscular. Jax looked like a linebacker from a college frat party, tall with a round middle and strong. In a fight, Deacon would take Jax and the bouncer seemed to know it.
Jax crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s going on?”
“You witnessed a man leaving a crime scene the other night. I believe you spoke to my colleague, Detective Dougherty...” Leah hesitated at Jax’s reaction to the detective’s name. His left eye twitched. Leah didn’t like the implication that Jax was afraid of Dougherty.
“Yes, ma’am.” The guy’s voice was tight. Unraveling him and getting anything out of him had just become more difficult.
“Can you tell me what you saw?” she asked.
“I already gave my statement. There any reason I need to give it twice?” His hesitation didn’t sit well. Was he trying to remember what he said?
“Where were you exactly when you saw the man you identified leaving the crime scene?” If she fired a few questions at him, maybe she could loosen him up.
“It’s in my statement.” He looked at her with blank eyes. “Do I need a lawyer?”
“No. Why? Should I take you downtown to answer my questions?” She stood there boldly in order to let him know she wasn’t intimidated. There was no way she would do what she said but he didn’t know that.
“I’m good here.” He wasn’t giving her much to work with. His responses gave her the impression he was afraid to talk. The way he’d buttoned up the minute she’d mentioned the case didn’t sit well.
“Then why don’t you start answering my questions?” She had no real leverage so she softened her approach.
“I took a walk because the weather was nice.” He flashed angry eyes at her. “I got a lot going on, trying to save for school, and I’ve been having roommate trouble. I live with a couple who broke up and it’s messy. I needed fresh air after being inside our place with them.”
“Where did you go?” At least he was talking. She could check his answers against his statement later.
“On the trail,” he supplied like she should know that already.
“Any specific spot? It’s a big trail,” she continued.
“Near the bend. I didn’t hear anything but I saw a man acting weird,” was all he said.
“How? What was he doing?” She didn’t like the fact that his answers seemed rehearsed. He wasn’t giving away more than he had to. Was he afraid he’d slip up?
“He wouldn’t look at me. He kept to the shadows. That’s why I noticed him in the first place. He seemed... I don’t know... Creepy. He had long greasy hair like he hadn’t washed it in a few days and he looked surprisingly strong for a man who was so skinny.” Jax’s answers bothered Leah for a couple of reasons. His voice was even. He was giving too much detail—people always gave too much detail when they were lying.
“I thought you said he kept to the shadows?” she reminded Jax.
Leah
didn’t have a copy of his report but experience told her his statement would be almost exactly what he was saying to her now. Because on instinct she could tell he was lying.
“I’ve said everything I can remember. Maybe you should talk to this guy.” Jax pulled a business card out of his wallet. It belonged to Dougherty. Leah bit back a curse.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Hanks.” Leah turned to Deacon. “We’ve heard enough.”
Deacon nodded and she appreciated that he seemed to know when to speak and when not to. She turned before she cleared the area and looked back at Jax one more time.
“Hey, Jax,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am,” came the response.
“I’ll be back to check on this place. You know, make sure everything’s running legit and no customer gives you a hard time.” It was a veiled threat that he would understand. She was saying that he needed to keep his nose clean or she’d find a reason to haul him in.
“Look forward to seeing you again.” His voice hitched and she could tell that she’d struck a chord. Good. She didn’t need him talking to Dougherty as soon as she disappeared.
Deacon didn’t say a word until they were inside her vehicle. Then came, “He didn’t see anything.”
“You picked up on that?” She was impressed.
“His reaction to your presence. The way he remembered too many details but said he was in the dark. My question is why? What does he have to gain?” Deacon asked.
“Good question.” Leah put the key in the ignition. “Maybe we’ll get more from Nick Chester.”
The drive to Frisco took longer in traffic. Nick Chester lived in a two-story house on a suburban street of newly built homes. The row of houses was similar with brick-and-stone facades. Every house on the block had two stories and a solid-wood door. The yards were similar in size and scale, and trees were nothing more than saplings. The word cookie-cutter came to mind as Leah looked at the endless stream of similar-looking homes. She figured not much would be different on the inside of the places. This was the land of carpools, Suburbans and 2.5 kids.
A twinge of jealousy struck Leah that was so out of the blue it caught her off guard. Because behind those wooden doors were real families. Holidays with tables full of parents and grandparents, and pretty much everything Connor would never have.
Leah looked at Deacon as they got out of her vehicle.
He stopped and froze. “Everything okay?”
She shook off the reaction she was having as a bout of Saturday Evening Post nostalgia. Those families could be dysfunctional. She’d been called out to play referee on countless holidays when crazy Uncle Billy decided to pick a political fight with conservative Aunt Jean.
“Yeah. Fine.” She palmed her badge and walked toward the front door. This neighborhood had a front-entry garage, a relatively uncommon concept in this area that was meant to maximize backyard space.
Leah knocked on the door. She heard a male voice shout that he had it and she assumed he meant the door.
An attractive man in his midthirties answered. A TV blared a familiar cartoon in the background. The man was tall with a runner’s build and sandy blond hair combed over in the front that made him look like he could be from a well-known democratic Massachusetts family.
Leah flashed her badge. “Nick Chester?”
“Yeah. This is his place. Hold on a minute. I’ll get him,” the surprised-looking man said. He partially closed the door until only a crack of light peeped through. Leah had no grounds to go inside when she wasn’t expressly invited but she knew something was up. And then a minute later the garage door was opening.
She and Deacon turned around from the front entry in time to see a luxury sport utility come roaring out. Leah ran toward the vehicle but it was too late. She couldn’t catch Nick in time to stop him.
Chapter Twenty
“I knew that man was Nick.” Deacon cursed under his breath as he turned to face Leah.
“Me, too. We have no right to be here but those are the actions of a man guilty of something.” Frustration seemed to pour off her in waves. “I don’t like the picture emerging. We have a vagrant witness who suddenly can’t be found. Another witness, a bodyguard at a nightclub, emerges who seems scared to speak to a detective after seeming to have no problem pointing the finger at Elijah Henry. And now the other witness bolts before I can interview him. Dougherty’s case against Elijah Henry feels like a setup.”
“We can always see what Nick Chester’s wife thinks is going on.” Deacon’s suggestion was met with a nod.
Leah knocked. Her badge was still in her left palm, a habit she’d picked up early on in order to keep her right hand free for her weapon.
An attractive woman answered the door with a surprised expression. She was roughly five feet four inches. Her shiny wheat-colored hair was pulled away from her face in a ponytail.
“Mrs. Chester?” Leah asked.
“Yes, Officer. What’s wrong?” Mrs. Chester looked like she expected bad news, like Leah was there to tell the woman someone close to her had died. She didn’t look guilty or suspicious. If Mrs. Chester had been the witness, Leah would’ve gone home and waited for a conviction for Elijah Henry. That wasn’t the case here.
“Your husband answered the door a minute ago and then took off. Did he say where he was going?” Leah figured she’d get right to the point.
“He said we were out of milk. Why do you need to talk to him?” The concerned woman’s brows knitted.
“May we come in?” Leah could only ask.
“Um, sure.” Mrs. Chester opened the door wider and led them into the open-concept kitchen.
Two kids, both under the age of eight, were sprawled out on the floor. The youngest stared intently at the cartoon and the other at an electronic device.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, Mrs. Chester—”
“Please, call me Abby.”
“I’m Leah.” She offered her hand. “This is a friend of mine.”
Deacon introduced himself.
After courtesies were exchanged, Leah decided to get down to business. “Where was your husband last Tuesday?”
Abby picked up her phone on the counter and checked the calendar. “Let’s see. I had a meeting at Carol’s school that night, so he would’ve been here. No. Wait. That’s not right. I had to ask the neighbor to sit for me because my husband had a work thing downtown.”
“What kind of work does your husband do?” Leah asked.
“He heads up marketing at Bellamy Insurance,” she supplied.
“Is it common for him to take meetings at night?” Leah pressed.
“Yeah. Sure. He’s downtown almost once a week for something. He meets with advertisers and they like to take him out to dinner.” She stared at them. “Is my husband in some sort of trouble?”
“Did he tell you about witnessing a man leaving the scene of a murder?”
Abby gasped and brought her hand up to cover her mouth. Her gaze darted to the girls on the floor in the adjacent room.
“I’m guessing the answer to that question is no,” Leah continued when Abby didn’t speak.
“I had no idea.” Abby’s gaze darted around before landing hard on the cell in her hand.
“Do you have any idea why your husband would keep that information from you?” The only reason Leah could think of was that he was hiding something.
“No.”
“Can you get him on the phone and ask when he’ll—”
The cell in Abby’s hand buzzed, cutting off Leah’s question. It was Nick.
Another gasp issued from Abby. “Can I—”
“Yes. Would you mind letting him know we have no plans to leave until he comes home?” Leah hoped the statement would work.
Abby did as she was instructed. The call ended within a minute of starting. “He’l
l be right here. He said that he panicked and he’s sorry.”
Leah thanked Abby.
Nick walked through the door leading to the garage a minute later. He must’ve been at the end of the street, waiting.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. His bronzed skin had paled. He raked his hand through his hair. “I apologize for earlier.”
“Mr. Chester—”
“Call me Nick. Please.”
“Nick, where were you last Tuesday evening?” Leah dove right into her first question.
Nick’s gaze darted from his wife and back to Leah. “Can we talk out back?”
“I have a right to know where my husband was,” Abby protested.
The anguished look on Nick’s features intensified. “Honey, I’m sorry.”
“What have you done, Nicolaus?” Abby’s voice shook in fear.
He took a minute to speak and Leah figured he was drumming up the courage. “It started off innocent enough.” His gaze trained on his wife. “I swear I never meant to hurt you. I love this family.”
“Who is she? Do I know her?” All the color had drained from Abby’s face.
Nick shook his head. “It’s not like that. It’s not emotional.”
The younger kid called for mommy. For a split second, Abby looked torn. “We’ll talk later.” She moved into the next room, shoulders slumped forward.
Nick watched, a mix of embarrassment and grief playing out in his eyes. He lowered his voice. “I never should’ve gotten involved with Anastasia.”
“Is she a working girl?” Leah put it delicately.
“It’s not like that. She dances at Fire and Ice Gentlemen’s Club,” he said almost under his breath. “One of my clients started taking me there six months ago.”
“Is that where you were last Tuesday evening? The club?” Leah asked.
He shook his head.
“You were with Anastasia, though.” Leah’s statement was met with a nod.
Abby picked up their youngest and carried the little girl upstairs. “Where were you?” Leah asked.
“Her place.”