Secret is in the Bones (Paynes Creek Thriller Book 3)

by Heather Sunseri

  “What about Ethan?” I asked, even though I had tried to keep him out of this conversation.

  “Like I told you last night. I’ll continue to look at Ethan. I don’t need much of a reason to suspect him of doing something wrong. I get a bad vibe anytime I’m around him.” He touched the tip of my nose in a playful tap. “But I have good reasons not to like Ethan.”

  “When have you been around him? Not since last year, right?”

  Luke broke his eye contact with me.

  “Luke,” I said. I placed a hand on his cheek and directed him to look at me. “When have you been around him?”

  “I’m on a new case that I can’t discuss. But it took me to the Spotted Cat last night.”

  I stood and took my mug to the sink.

  “You can’t be angry about this.”

  I spun around. “I’m not angry. I want you to ask him why he can’t stay away from me. As a matter of fact, ask him why he called me the other day and just sat there in silence.”

  Luke, too, stood. “When did this happen? And why the fuck are you just now mentioning it?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, Luke. Maybe because so much has happened that Ethan calling me was the least strange.” I cupped a hand over my forehead and massaged my temples. “When are you going to realize that he’s constantly finding ways to be near me?”

  “Okay. Let’s take a deep breath.” He walked to me and framed my face. “Tell me exactly what he said.”

  I pulled away from him. “He didn’t say anything. I could hear the bustle of glasses and dishes in the background. Then someone yelled his name. That’s not a coincidence.”

  “Do you have a phone number that the call came from?”

  I grabbed my phone and scrolled until I found the incoming phone number, then turned it to Luke.

  He pulled a pad of paper from his pocket and quickly jotted the number down, then replaced the notepad. He moved closer, slid a hand to my waist. “I’ll let you know what I find out today. I have a lot of questions to run down. It would make me happy if you stayed away from the investigation into Steven’s murder. Don’t give the state’s detectives a reason to look at you.”

  “Stay away from it?” I asked. “I’m smack dab in the middle of it. That picture of me ended up in my best friend’s living room, and no one knows how or why. If Darren didn’t send the photo to Kentucky from Colorado, who did? And how did it end up at Penelope’s?”

  Luke pulled me into a hug. I brought my hands up between us and tried to push him away, but he only held tighter.

  “Let me go.”

  “I’m not going to. I know you’re frustrated. But you are not going to push me away. You’re going to accept my help.”

  “Just because we slept together, it doesn’t give you the right to—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence, Faith. I’m going to do whatever I have to do to make sure you’re safe. Not because we slept together, but because you mean so much to me. I will not let anything happen to you.” He kissed me again while threading his fingers through my hair, then whispered against my lips, “I need you to be safe. Let me help.”

  I leaned my forehead into his chest. I couldn’t deny that something about the situation I was in felt out of control. “I should never have slept with you this morning.”

  He grabbed my chin. “Now you’re hurting my feelings, and it’s pissing me off.” Then, with one last kiss, he said, “I’ll see you later.”

  Before I could say anything else I’d end up regretting, he left.

  FIFTEEN

  LUKE

  I pulled up to Coop’s just as Barb Kaufman, Lil’s grandmother, was pulling bags of groceries from her back seat.

  I pushed out of my truck and jogged over to her. “Hey, Barb. Let me help you.”

  She turned when she heard my voice. “Oh, hi, Luke. You handsome thing, you.” She stepped back from the car, holding a couple of bags. “I’ll never turn down an act of chivalry. I seem to come across them less and less these days.”

  I peeked inside the bags and saw potatoes, sausage, eggs, and cheese. “Just what kind of goodness are you taking into the house?”

  “My Lil and I are going to make a couple of casseroles to take over to Annie Farmer’s today.”

  “That’s very nice of the two of you. Have they said when the funeral will be?” Had Penelope even had time to organize a visitation or funeral yet?

  “No, not yet. But I figure it will happen Wednesday or Thursday, given the circumstances. Which is unfortunate given the weather forecast. We’re expecting some nasty weather this week. Could make for terrible conditions for a funeral.”

  Barb and I started for the house when Coop and Lil came out onto the front porch.

  “Hey, Grammy,” Lil called. “I just spoke with Bryn at the Coffeehouse. Word is that visitation will be tomorrow, and the funeral Wednesday. People have been taking food over to Mrs. Farmer’s house. That’s where Penelope and Danny are staying.”

  We all continued into the house and carried the groceries to the kitchen.

  “Has anyone seen the Champagnes?” Barb asked. “Those poor parents. To lose a son is bad enough, but to lose him under these circumstances has to be unbearable.”

  “I just can’t believe anyone would think Penelope would do something like that to Steven,” Lil said.

  Coop leaned in and kissed Lil. “Those of us here know you can’t listen to rumors. Let the detectives and the state lab do their jobs.” He looked at me. “You ready?”

  I nodded. “You ladies are awfully kind to take food to the Farmers’ house. I know Penelope will appreciate seeing some friendly faces.”

  Coop and I headed back out the front door. When we reached the porch, a man approached wearing dirty jeans, scuffed and muddy work boots, and a ratty crewneck t-shirt. His arms were covered in tattoos, and what skin wasn’t marked with ink held the remnants of a deep summer suntan. “Mr. Adams, we’re here to fix the fence on the back side of the property.” He rested a foot on the first step leading to the porch. He removed the royal blue University of Kentucky ball cap and ran a hand through his stringy, brown hair before replacing it.

  “Good deal, John. The supplies your boss ordered should be over by the barn.”

  “Sounds good, man. Thanks. You going to be around today?”

  “No, we have to run out, but if you need anything, you can call my cell.”

  “Good to know. But we shouldn’t need you.” John looked from Coop to me, lingering on me for a moment, then back to Coop. “Y’all have a good day.”

  He walked off toward an old pickup truck. He climbed inside and instead of heading back toward the road, took a gravel path past Coop’s house that would take him to the barn where I currently lived in a guest apartment.

  “Haven’t seen that man around before. John?”

  “Yeah. He’s new in town. Seems to be a hard worker. He’s helped me get the fencing around the property repaired, putting in new planks where necessary. Brings help when he needs it.”

  “How’d you find him?”

  “He was hired by the crew that remodeled the barn. They keep him busy, but his boss told him he could take some side jobs for me in his off time. He seems nice enough. Likes to travel, so not always reliable for scheduled jobs. But when he’s here, he does good work.” Coop gave me a side eye. “Why are you suspicious?”

  “No reason. You ready?”

  He nodded, and we headed for my truck.

  My phone rang as I reached the driver’s side door. “Luke Justice.”

  “Agent Justice, it’s Clarissa Thomason. How soon can you and Agent Adams get to UK Hospital?”

  I glanced over at Coop. “We can be there in about thirty. What’s up?”

  “Got a call from a Lexington police officer that a woman who was badly assaulted in the early morning hours was just admitted. She’s asking for the two of you. Said she won’t talk to anyone else.”

  “You got a name?”

&nb
sp; “Alice Clay.”

  “Alice? Where did the attack occur?”

  “The ambulance was called to the Spotted Cat.”

  SIXTEEN

  FAITH

  Smoothing out strained relationships was far from my specialty, but I promised Myra I would do everything I could to make Steven Champagne’s parents understand it wasn’t their daughter-in-law who killed their son.

  I walked into Bryn’s Coffee House around mid-morning and immediately spotted Detective William Puckett of the Paynes Creek PD sitting with a couple of uniformed officers sipping coffee.

  “Hey, Faith,” a woman called out. “I heard you were back in town.”

  I turned toward the voice and smiled when I saw Bryn Kaufman, owner of the Coffee House. “Hi, Bryn. It’s good to see you.”

  Bryn had made a name for herself in Paynes Creek when she purchased a rundown downtown building and turned it into a successful coffee house and diner, in addition to renovating the second-floor space into an urban loft where she lived. She was also extremely involved with the city council and served on a couple community boards of directors.

  Having graduated high school two years ahead of me, we were never close friends, but she and her cousin Lily Thomas were always kind.

  “You here alone?” She glanced behind me toward the door. “You want a table?” She hugged a stack of menus against her chest. She was wearing a pair of fitted red capris and a dark purple cardigan, and somehow, she pulled the colors off.

  “No… Thank you.” I glanced around the quaint diner and spotted the couple I was looking for sitting alone at a small bistro table in the back of the restaurant. They were drinking coffee and picking at the food in front of them. They didn’t appear to be having much conversation, if any.

  Bryn followed the direction of my gaze. “Those are Steven’s parents. I feel so terrible for them.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, then turned back to Bryn. “Can I get a plain latte to go?”

  “Of course. Anything else?”

  “No. That’s it. Thank you.” I walked past her and headed for the Champagnes.

  Mrs. Champagne looked up as I approached and stiffened.

  “Hello, Mrs. Champagne,” I said, then nodded at her husband. “Mr. Champagne. I’m Faith Day.”

  Mr. Champagne stood and blocked me from getting closer to his wife. “We know who you are.”

  I backed up a step but didn’t look away from his eyes. “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for your loss. Steven was a wonderful man.”

  “You think we don’t remember you? That we don’t read the news and keep up with what happens in the town where we raised our children? You made sure the wrong person was sent to prison after your mother was killed. And Steven said you were always a terrible influence on his wife. Said Penelope always drank more when she was around you and that she neglected our grandchild anytime the two of you got together.”

  I felt like I had been punched in the gut. Penelope never neglected Danny. She and Steven always put Danny before anyone else.

  “Daniel, don’t,” Mrs. Champagne said behind her husband. Clearly, Danny was named after his grandfather. “You’re causing a scene.”

  Mr. Champagne ignored his wife. “And now my only son is dead at the hand of his own wife. I have to think you had some sort of influence over her, given the history of your own family.” He spat the last words.

  “Mr. Champagne,” I said, swallowing hard. This time I spoke with a little more edge. “I came over here to tell you two things. One, that I am sorry, because I am sorry. Steven was a loving husband to my best friend and an incredible father. I hate what his loss will do to Penelope and Danny, and to the two of you. Second, I figure the detectives aren’t telling you much right now, but I wanted you to know that I am one hundred percent sure that Penelope didn’t hurt her husband. She is crushed. And I wanted to beg you not to treat her like she’s guilty of this crime while we wait for the truth to come out. You will destroy any chance of having a relationship with your grandson if you jump to the wrong conclusion. Danny was named after you, right?”

  Mrs. Champagne jumped to her feet and edged around her husband. “How dare you! How dare you walk in here and tell us how to grieve for our son.”

  I glanced around the diner where people were now staring. I hated that I had inadvertently drawn attention to myself and the Champagnes.

  “I’m very sorry,” I said quietly, then started to back away.

  Mr. Champagne wrapped a hand around my forearm in a vice-like grip. “You say you’re sure. What do you know?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Detective Puckett as he stood and started toward us. I met his gaze and gave my head a little shake, signaling that I didn’t need help.

  Then I looked from Mr. Champagne’s grasp to his eyes. His eyes were tired and bloodshot. The man standing in front of me was broken. I could see that. I gently pried his fingers away from my arm and vowed internally that that would be the only time he’d put a hand on me without repercussions. “I know how these cases go. I know there was a lot of forensic evidence collected and sent away for testing. That testing will take a while. But if the police thought your daughter killed Steven, they would have arrested her already. They haven’t. And I know they’re looking at some evidence that simply doesn’t make sense.

  “They have more questions than answers,” I continued. “And they could probably arrest your daughter-in-law if they don’t find evidence that proves who else might have done this. You could help make sure that didn’t happen by supporting her.”

  “Why would we support her if detectives are still looking at her? She killed him, for all we know.”

  “If you’re right… if detectives prove that Penelope killed Steven… then she’ll be arrested, and they’ll take her to trial. You will certainly not change that outcome no matter how you treat her now.”

  I glanced at Mrs. Champagne, who was watching me intently. “But what if you’re wrong?” I asked. “What if Penelope was also a victim of whoever attacked her and Steven? And what if you spend this time treating her like she’s guilty before she’s had a chance to prove her innocence? And then investigators prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that she had no part in this. What happens if… when… you see the overwhelming evidence that Penelope is innocent, and you have ruined your relationship with her—the mother of you grandson and the woman your son loved with all of his heart?”

  Mrs. Champagne stumbled slightly but sat back down. Tears streamed down her face.

  Mr. Champagne still stood in front of me. He had not taken his eyes off of me as he analyzed what I was saying to him.

  “If you treat Penelope, who I know without a shadow of a doubt loved your son very much, like she is guilty of this heinous crime, she might not ever forgive you, and I wouldn’t blame her. Do you think she’ll make it easy for you to see your grandson after that?”

  Mr. Champagne looked to his wife, then turned his back to me and joined her back at the table.

  I did the only thing I knew to do at that point. I reiterated my condolences. “I am truly sorry for what you’re going through.”

  I turned and walked the length of the diner’s counter, paid for my latte, and then left. And I didn’t bother to look around the Coffee House to see how many people were staring at me.

  Cars, trucks, a few local police cars, and a pair of ambulances lined the street in front of Penelope’s parents’ house. A steady flow of neighbors, friends, and coworkers walked in and out of Mr. And Mrs. Farmer’s home, delivering casseroles and deviled eggs to the many who were grieving the tragic loss of Steven Champagne.

  As I slid out of my own truck directly in front of the Farmers’ house, I spotted an unmarked police car two houses down, pointed toward me. A man and a woman in street clothes sat in the front seat, and I could tell the moment they spotted me spotting them.

  I remembered Luke telling me that morning to stay out of the investi
gation. Not that I had any intention of interfering, but I couldn’t help but wonder what direction the investigators were leaning with the evidence.

  As soon as I walked into the house, I heard a squeal. Danny ran toward me and threw his little arms around my legs. “Fait,” he said in his little voice, dropping the “h” from my name and making it sound more like “fate.” He lifted his arms and said, “Up! Up!”

  I picked him up and squeezed him into a hug. “Where’s your mama, big guy?”

  “She’s seeping.”

  A couple of on-duty EMTs walked past me and headed for the front door.

  “Hi, Faith,” Annie entered the living room from the kitchen. She looked like she’d been crying. “Penelope will be glad you’re here. But I wanted to say something first.”

  Danny squirmed in my arms. I let him slide down my body until his feet were back on the floor. He took off running for whatever grabbed his attention next.

  “Okay,” I said hesitantly. “Is something wrong?”

  “I want to thank you for calling Myra. I wasn’t sure about her at first. She’s definitely difficult to read, and with how stressed we all were yesterday, I wasn’t sure I could get past her way of… let’s just say, communicating. But Penelope said that if it weren’t for Myra, she’s positive they would have arrested her, and she would have spent the weekend in jail.”

  “I don’t think that was going to happen, Annie, but I’m glad Myra was able to help. She’s the best person in Central Kentucky to see Penelope through this.”

  She laid a hand on my arm. “You’re a good friend to her. She’ll be happy to see you.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s napping in the guest room. Upstairs, the room that looks out onto the front yard.”

  “Thank you.”

  I climbed the steps and made my way to the room at the front of the house. I pushed open the door slowly, not wanting to wake Penelope if she was sleeping.

  She was standing at the front window when I entered and turned when the door creaked. “Those assholes are watching the house, just waiting for me to do something that proves I killed my husband.” There was genuine anger in her voice.