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

by Heather Sunseri

Luke reached over and took hold of my hand, not caring what that gesture looked like to Detective Fish. I supposed it wasn’t a secret that I had a past with one of Paynes Creek’s resident FBI agents. Hell, I was in his apartment, and I was clearly halfway out of my funeral attire.

  “When was the last time you spoke to Mr. Murray?” she asked.

  “I haven’t spoken to him since I left Colorado. Months ago.” I narrowed my eyes. “How did he die? When did he die?”

  “They found his body a week ago.” Detective Fish looked down at her own hands. Something was making her uncomfortable. When she met my eyes again, there was a certain determination in them. “They found his body in his home one morning after he didn’t show up for work.”

  I studied her face. “You’re not telling us something.” I squeezed Luke’s hand tighter.

  She looked from me to Luke, then back to me. “I’m not sure you want to hear the details.”

  Luke angled his chair so that he was sitting closer to me. “She can handle it, Detective.”

  Her brows pointed inward. “Darren’s body was found impaled on a set of elk antlers that were displayed over his fireplace.”

  My hand flew to my mouth in an attempt to silence a gasp.

  “He also had something carved across his chest.” There was something odd in the detective’s expression as she spoke.

  Luke leaned forward in his chair. “What?” He’d seen something strange, as well.

  Detective Fish angled her perplexed expression toward Luke. “I’m sorry?”

  Luke gave his head a shake. “What, exactly, was carved into his chest?”

  She grabbed her phone from her pocket and began scrolling for more information.

  When she found what she was looking for, she turned her phone toward Luke. I had to lean over to see what it was. No one stopped me.

  A lump formed in my throat as I took in the sight of Darren’s body. “Is that a skull?”

  “A skull and crossbones.” Luke stood. “Will the two of you excuse me?”

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  He simply held up a finger, “I need to make a call. I’ll be right back.” He crossed the room and exited the small apartment, clearly needing privacy for the call.

  Detective Fish turned back to me. The strange expression that had been there moments ago was replaced with curiosity.

  I shrugged. “This is certainly awkward.” Then I said, “I suppose you’ll be needing my alibi for the night Darren was killed? Do you know what night he was actually murdered?”

  “I don’t know the exact day. But yes, it’s always good to have your alibi noted in the files to verify you’ve been ruled out as a suspect.” By the tone of her voice, I no longer felt like she was looking at me in that way, but more of a material witness of some sort.

  I pushed away from the table and stood. I walked over to the set of windows that lined the back side of the dwelling, giving the small barn apartment a contemporary feel. “I liked Darren,” I said, looking out into darkness. Few stars were out, and the moon went in and out of focus behind fast-moving clouds. It was an eerie autumn night. “He inherited Mountain View Dude Ranch when his parents died in a car accident when he was only twenty. He dropped out of college and took over the ranch. From what I saw during my short stay there, he turned the ranch into a successful adventure destination for young city slickers interested in playing cowboys.” I laughed softly. “He and I used to argue over which was more beautiful—a Colorado dude ranch or a Kentucky thoroughbred horse farm?”

  “Who won?”

  “It was always a draw.”

  “Were you romantically involved with Darren?”

  “No.” I smiled. “Not because he didn’t try. But I wasn’t interested. We became good friends, though.”

  “Because you were in love with someone else?”

  I faced Detective Fish. Her face was unreadable. It was a simple question, one with a complicated answer. An answer that was none of her business. But looking at her, I understood she saw a lot more than most detectives. And that made her good at getting to a difficult truth.

  Luckily, I didn’t have to answer her annoying question, because Luke came back in. “Sorry about that.”

  Detective Fish stood. “That’s okay. I need to go. I have all I need for now.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” Luke said. He had a great poker face, but not that good. That call he made changed something. And he didn’t want me to hear whatever he planned to say to Detective Fish.

  “Miss Day,” she said. “Thank you. And I’m sorry for your loss. I’ll be in touch.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  LUKE

  “She’s smarter than you’re giving her credit for,” Detective Fish said when we left the barn. “I don’t know what phone call you made, or what it has to do with my murder case, but…” Her voice trailed off.

  I walked ahead of her, staring toward Coop’s house, who I’d just gotten off the phone with along with the SAC. “I’m pretty sure your murder case and a case I’m involved with are intersecting. And we might as well add the murder of Darren Murray to the equation.”

  She stopped. “How do you think these three murders intersect?” Detective Fish didn’t doubt my statement; she was simply inquiring as to why I thought the murders were related.

  “It’s more complicated that I can explain right now. My partner and I, along with the SAC out of Louisville, will present to you and your superiors in Frankfort what we can tomorrow morning. The meeting is being set up now. I’m sure you’ll receive a phone call shortly.” I faced her.

  She was analyzing me. “It’s the skull and crossbones, isn’t it?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because you couldn’t run from your apartment fast enough when you saw the carving on Darren’s chest.”

  “Out of respect for you, I’ll say, ‘yes,’ it links my case with the Colorado case. And the Colorado case is linked to Champagne’s murder by the photograph.”

  “Which pulls Faith into it,” she said.

  “Which pulls Faith into it,” I agreed. “And you’re right about one thing: she is extremely smart. It’s not that I’m not giving her credit for it. But I need a moment to gather my thoughts before I walk back in there and console her on the death of her friend and consider why she’s being dragged into a string of murders.”

  “Meaning?” she asked.

  “Well, Detective, you clearly concluded that the photograph of Faith and Darren didn’t belong in your crime scene. And now the man in that photograph is dead—and was killed prior to Champagne, yet Murray never met Steven or Penelope Champagne. I also know some piece of evidence kept you from arresting Penelope, despite how that crime scene looked. If I had to guess, you found something else—some other piece of evidence—that cleared Penelope or steered you toward someone else.”

  “There is evidence that hasn’t been released to the public, but it’s complicated.” She smiled when she threw my own words back at me. “It did make us doubt our ability to make charges stick against Penelope. Let’s talk in the morning.” She started to walk toward her unmarked silver SUV but stopped and turned back. “Tell me one thing, though. Why is the FBI involved in a murder case? Seems beyond your jurisdiction.”

  “Because we believe a prison gang known as the Whiskey Mafia is behind our murder.”

  Realization seemed to flash across her face. “The skull and crossbones is some sort of symbol they use.”

  I nodded. “Look, I don’t care about jurisdictions, stepping on toes, or any of the typical FBI vs. local police bullshit. I care about getting criminals off the street.” I pointed toward the barn entrance. “And I care about that woman in there who’s already been through a lifetime of pain. It would make me very happy to have help getting to the bottom of whatever is going on.”

  “I believe you and I see things similarly,” she said. “Do you and your partner have an idea of who’s committing the murders? It’s clearly not
someone currently in prison. A member on the outside?”

  “Possibly,” I said. “Definitely an angle we’re considering.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, Special Agent Justice.” She turned just as a robin’s egg blue hatchback pulled up the drive.

  “That would be our dinner,” I said. “Good night, Detective.”

  When I entered the apartment, Faith was staring out the far windows. She didn’t turn when I entered.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” she asked with her back to me.

  “Yes,” I said. “But first, I ran into the delivery guy while I was outside. Dinner’s here.” I knew her well enough to know she would refuse the food.

  Predictably, she turned and waved a hand. “I’m not hungry.”

  I set the large brown bag of food on the table and crossed the room to her. I wrapped my arms around her from behind. She leaned her back into me and grabbed hold of my arms.

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked. “What did you tell Detective Fish?”

  “Let’s sit down.” I grabbed her hand and led her over to the sofa. Before I sat down with her, I lit the gas stove to take the chill from the air.

  When I finally sat, she lifted her feet into my lap. “Just say it. This is feeling too much like what happened last year, and it’s better if you just say what you need to say.”

  I rested an arm across her legs, getting as close to her as I could to give her the support she was going to need. And then I just told her what I could.

  “The symbol etched onto Darren’s chest is tied to a case Coop and I are working.”

  She nodded hesitantly. “How?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “But you think it is,” she said.

  “Yes. I’m going to tell you a few of the facts, and then we’re going to eat and work hard to put it out of our minds for tonight.”

  I explained to her what I could about the Whiskey Mafia, and how they were possibly tied to a murder in Lexington. And while I’d seen no evidence of the gang at the Champagne house, I wasn’t looking for it at the time. Maybe it was there. I’d have to ask Detective Fish that question tomorrow.

  But Faith was connected to the Champagne murder by a photograph of her and Darren, and now Darren was killed with a connection to the gang.

  Faith listened but stayed silent and still.

  “Why Paula Shepherd?”

  “I don’t know.” I made a mental note to invite Chief McCracken or one of his detectives to tomorrow’s meeting.

  “She hated me,” Faith said. “And I didn’t like her. But I’ve never in my life wished someone dead. Except maybe Tabitha Blake in the seventh grade.”

  I flashed her a smile. “Coop and I are going to meet with Detective Fish and her partner tomorrow morning to go over the evidence in Steven’s murder. And we’ll be setting up a video conference with investigators in Colorado.” I touched her cheek. “I do have one more thing I need to say before we eat.”

  She searched my eyes, and for the first time I saw more than just fear and confusion. She was looking for some sort of hope from me. Hope that I was going to tell her everything was going to be all right, maybe.

  But I couldn’t tell her that. I had to be honest with her.

  “This gang made a direct threat against Coop and me the other day.”

  “What?” she straightened. “You two need to have this case reassigned.”

  “We can’t do that. Not now.” Especially since Faith seemed to be tied to this in some way. “But I’m going to need you to take extra precautions.”

  She pulled back slightly. “Why me?”

  “The threat was actually made against ‘our girlfriends,’ by the Whiskey Mafia.” I put air quotes around the words. “We clearly got too close to something.”

  She nodded, and it was interesting that when she heard she might be in danger instead of me, she dropped the idea of having the case reassigned. “What kind of precautions?”

  “I need you to be cautious and more aware of your surroundings than ever before.”

  “Luke, someone has been following me off and on for months now. I’m always acutely aware of my surroundings, twenty-four/seven. Why do you think I finally just said ‘to hell with it all’ and disappeared?”

  I stood, grabbed Faith’s hand, and pulled her up to stand in front of me. “I promise I’m going to find out who’s behind everything happening.”

  “You can’t promise that.”

  “I just did. But I need you to promise me something.”

  She tilted her head back and stared up at me.

  “Don’t run. I can’t protect you if you bail on me again.” When she opened her mouth to protest, I put a finger over her lips. “Don’t tell me you don’t need my protection. Don’t run. Don’t shut me out.” I framed her face with my hands, kissed her lightly across the lips, then whispered, “Promise me.”

  She leaned her forehead into my chest and nodded.

  That would have to be enough for now.

  TWENTY-THREE

  FAITH

  I woke early the next morning in Luke’s bed. It was still mostly dark, but a faint light was dawning through the large wall of windows across the room. I rolled over under the thick comforter, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt of Luke’s and a pair of panties. He slept motionless beside me.

  I had gone to bed without him last night. He’d had to work after we ate, and he seemed heavily distracted after his conversation with Detective Fish. He didn’t wake me or touch me when he came to bed, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. On one hand, I was relieved since I wasn’t sure where we stood. On the other hand, we’d had sex twice since I returned to town.

  Was it fair for me to want it to mean something?

  As I laid there in the early morning darkness, I struggled to wrap my brain around how his case with the FBI was tied to what was going on here in Paynes Creek. Or how my friend Darren had gotten wrapped up in all this. Why would a prison gang go after Darren?

  None of it made sense.

  At the same time, I was overwhelmed with sadness. For Darren’s friends and family. For Penelope and Danny, and the rest of Steven’s family. And then there was Paula Shepherd. While she and I were never friends—not by a long shot—she had people in her life that loved her and would miss her. Why had someone targeted her?

  Sensing that I was starting to lose control of my emotions—both grief and anger—I slipped out of bed, trying hard not to wake Luke. Instead of seducing me the night before, he had chosen to stay up and work, which probably meant the case was troubling him even more than he’d expressed to me. He needed sleep.

  After pulling Luke’s oversized sweatpants on, I climbed down the spiral staircase along the back windows. A fog hovered along the dew-soaked grass in the neighboring field. I wondered what Cooper planned to do with his land. He’d been repairing and adding new fencing everywhere. Maybe he was planning to add horses or cattle? Did he have time for either? Maybe Lily wanted to farm.

  As I was getting ready to turn toward the kitchen, I spotted a doe and two fawns. I smiled as I watched them eat grass in the pasture. I missed this—seeing deer or the occasional family of fox ambling across my land.

  When the craving for coffee took over, I shuffled over to the kitchenette. As I added water and coffee grounds to Luke’s coffee maker, I thought about how Lil had been so kind to me the night before. It was nice to feel like I had friends in this town where I’d had few over the years. It made me feel—even if only for a minute—I might be able to sow additional long-term seeds in the town I’d called home my entire life, despite a past that haunted me.

  Because let’s face it, thanks to hyperthymesia, my past would haunt me no matter where I sowed those seeds.

  The sound of footsteps snapped me out of the daydream.

  “You’re making coffee,” Luke said as he raked a hand over his face.

  “I am.”

  “You think you coul
d just pour it directly into my eyes.”

  I shrugged. “I could, but you might not like the outcome.”

  He squinted his eyes at me and grinned.

  “You stayed up late,” I said.

  “I did. I’m sorry if I kept you up.”

  “Surprisingly, you didn’t. I actually slept well.”

  As the smell of coffee hit the air, Luke nearly groaned at the prospect. He reached past me and pulled two mugs down from the open shelves. “There’s cream in the refrigerator.”

  “Since when do you like cream in your coffee?”

  “Since never,” he said, as if it was the dumbest question I’d ever asked. As I studied him, he shrugged. “I took a chance you might stay over at some point.”

  “When did you take this chance?”

  “The day I found out you were back in Kentucky.” He moved closer to me and boxed me against the kitchen counter. “Thank you for sleeping here last night. I rest more easily knowing you’re safe.” He looked down the length of my body. “You look good in my clothes.”

  I resisted the urge to cross my arms and put up a barrier between us. But I immediately regretted it when one of his hands moved to my waist, cinching the oversized shirt to my body. “I came so close to waking you last night.”

  I stared at his chest for a second before looking into his eyes. “What are we doing, Luke?”

  “We’re figuring things out.”

  “Are we, though? Because I’m feeling more confused than ever.”

  “What are you confused about?” He leaned in and kissed the corners of my lips—one side, then the other. “Is that confusing?”

  “Our attraction to each other is not confu—” I stopped myself.

  He drew back. “Why did you stop?”

  “I was going to say our attraction to each other wasn’t confusing, but what I really mean is that my attraction to you is not confusing. I don’t understand your attraction to me.”

  “Why would you say that?” He pulled back but kept a hand at my waist.