“You can drag out the other boxes. Here’s a pair of gloves.”
Jonathan slipped them on and knelt down again. “There’s only one more.”
Alanna frowned. Could two boxes be sufficient to contain all the records? Especially since the detective suggested there weren’t many at the shop?
“Feel free to check for yourself.” Jonathan tugged up the skirt and made a sweeping motion. “Maybe my x-ray vision missed something.”
Alanna made a face at his sarcasm. “Trust me, businesses have lots of paper. No matter how small, I usually spend days wading through paper looking for one important fact.”
As Jonathan watched, he knew Lanna wasn’t thinking straight. She kept focusing on what she expected to see. Mr. Hoffmeister was a nice guy, but he wasn’t the world’s most effective businessman. If he were, he’d have a string of fudge shops like the others. Instead, he’d had one that did a good business but hadn’t differentiated from all the other fudge on the island. It wouldn’t surprise Jonathan if the two meager boxes contained everything.
If she’d decided the paperwork would save her and eventually Trevor, she’d misplaced her faith. “We’ve got more places to poke. Maybe we’ll find something there.”
Detective Bull again let them precede him. That action annoyed Jonathan. Why didn’t the man get in front and investigate? He was the detective after all.
“So how long you been with the state police?”
Bull did one of those annoying shoulder slouches that communicated he didn’t care enough to really comment.
“Five years? Ten?”
“Enough.”
“Like the St. Ignace office?”
Bull shrugged again. “It’s fine.”
“Until January?” Jonathan entered the other bedroom and checked under the bed, behind the dresser, and in the closet. Nothing.
“Snow’s not bad.”
“If you’ve got four-wheel drive and a snowmobile.”
“Don’t forget the cross-country skis.”
Alanna studied him, a question in her eyes. He ignored it as he avoided looking at the detective. Something just wasn’t right.
Jonathan stood and looked out the window. Where was the detective’s bike? “How do you plan to get those boxes down to the dock?”
Alanna must have caught the warning, because she slid toward the hallway as Bull stepped to the closet. The man made a perfunctory search.
“Not too worried about it.”
“Didn’t think so. Still, it makes me wonder what you’re doing here. Alone. Wouldn’t you bring someone with you?” Jonathan stepped closer to the man, trying to block his view of Alanna as she slipped into the hallway.
“Not enough manpower.” Sounded plausible, but after the way the chief shadowed him earlier, Jonathan wasn’t sure.
All he knew was he had a clear signal from his gut that he didn’t like the situation. He might not make a living as a detective, but something smelled. As he tried to evaluate the situation, he knew he couldn’t let anything happen to Alanna. If the situation was off, he needed to do everything possible to keep her safe. She meant too much to him to pretend otherwise.
“Where’d Ms. Stone go?” The detective stepped into his space, puffing up as if to make himself look bigger.
Jonathan made a show of looking around. “She’s right here.”
“Nope. Out of the way.”
The thought of going toe-to-toe with a second person wore Jonathan out. Still, he squared himself in front of Bull. He’d pull energy from deep resources to give Alanna time to slip away.
Bull growled. “Move now.”
When Jonathan remained in place, the man shoved him against the door frame. Jonathan fought for his balance then stuck a foot out. He hoped that didn’t count as assaulting an officer as Bull slammed into a wall.
“Bad choice, Covington.”
As a commotion erupted downstairs, Jonathan took his place in the doorway. “It’s nothing personal.”
“You can tell that to the judge.”
“We’ll see.” Fortunately, he knew a good attorney.
Alanna rushed back up the stairs. She’d had her cell phone out, dialing 911, when she’d reached the porch and heard the distinctive crunch of horses’ hooves against the trail. A small taxi had pulled up, and Police Chief Ryan climbed out followed by another man in police uniform.
“Chief Ryan.” Alanna closed her phone. “How did you know to come?”
“Research.”
Yes, the man used an economy of words, but that one word struck Alanna as exceptionally sparse. “Jonathan and Detective Bull are upstairs.”
The young officer shook his head. “He’s a maverick.”
The two uniformed men moved in front of her. As the screen door eased shut, Chief Ryan looked back at her. “Stay here, Ms. Stone.”
While his words sounded good, no way she’d stay in place and let whatever happened take place without helping Jonathan. She slipped off her shoes and then eased the door open. Her feet didn’t make any noise as she crept through the lower rooms to the stairs.
“Bull, what are you doing? I thought we agreed to do this together.” Chief Ryan’s voice left no doubt he expected an immediate answer.
“Chief, I got a tip and followed it. That’s what we do in the state police.”
Alanna slipped around the corner and placed her foot on a stair. It protested as if an entire marching band wanted to pass by. Chief Ryan turned with a frown. “I told you to stay put.”
“Yes, sir.” He hadn’t been around before she left, so he wouldn’t know she’d struggle to obey that instruction, but Jonathan’s snort made it clear he did.
“Someone want to fill me in?” Chief Ryan looked from one to the other. “We got a call but didn’t find the suspect that launched from here.”
“We’ve got his jacket over here, but that’s it.” Bull shrugged. “There’s no indication why he was here or how long. All we know is he didn’t take anything visible with him.” He tapped the boxes. “Do you have transportation?”
“Outside.”
“Good, then these boxes and I can hitchhike along.”
Chief Ryan turned to Jonathan. “You and Miss Stone need a ride, or do you plan to use that tandem bike?”
“We’ll bike down.”
“Okay, so long as you come straight to the station.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chief Ryan looked at Alanna.
“We’ll be there.” She had too many questions she wanted him to answer.
Two hours later, she sat in the police chief’s overloaded office, feeling like she’d never get an answer since the only talking she got to do was answering his questions.
“Explain again why you thought it was a good idea to invade a murdered man’s home.” Chief Ryan sat on the corner of his industrial desk and knocked the top with his knuckles as he studied Alanna intently.
“We had the key.” The words sounded weak, but she still believed that allowed her actions.
“But Mr. Hoffmeister hadn’t given it to you, correct?”
“Yes.” She rubbed at the pounding in her temples.
“I’m not charging you with breaking and entering right now, since Detective Bull vouches you didn’t take anything. But if you pull a stunt like that again, I will ask the prosecutor to bring every charge against you that has a 20 percent chance of sticking. You leave the investigating to us, or it will be interfering with a police investigation.”
She opened her mouth to respond then shut it. She’d only make matters worse.
Jonathan tugged at her hand. “Let’s head home.”
“All right.” She stood then paused. “You still haven’t said whether you have ideas on who the intruder was.”
“The other one?” She winced at the words. “Maybe the murderer’s looking for something. If that’s the case, you were lucky. Don’t count on being so fortunate next time.”
Alanna followed Jonathan to the door but
turned when Chief Ryan cleared his throat.
“Miss Stone, I’ve checked with friends in Grand Rapids. They say you’re quite the tenacious investigator.” He crossed his arms and leaned back. “Let me give you some advice. Stop. Anything you do could actually muddy things up rather than clear you. What if the crucial fact hides in one of those boxes? What if those boxes had gotten destroyed? What if you’d gone through them without Detective Bull? You could have removed anything you didn’t like. Destroyed evidence. Or created the impression that could have happened. They would have sat there a long time undisturbed if you hadn’t taken it upon yourselves to investigate.”
“With all due respect, Chief, don’t forget about the guy we chased away.” Jonathan stared at him. “He was in that room and could have found them as easily as I did.”
“Chances of finding him are slim to none. Officers are watching for him, but you know he’s ditched the coat, cap, and anything else that IDs him.”
And with that, Alanna was no closer to finding the real murderer or clearing Trevor.
Chapter 30
Jonathan had to get Alanna out of the City Hall building before she exploded. He could almost watch her mind process what they’d learned and piece it together with what she already knew.
The chief studied Alanna with a hard look. “Stay out of the investigation. I know it’s a challenge for you to leave things to the police. But we have it under control. You getting in the way doesn’t help your case.”
Alanna opened her mouth, but Jonathan raced to answer. “Thank you for your help, Chief. We’ll head out now.” He grabbed Alanna’s hand and pulled her from the room and out of the police offices.
“What are you doing?”
“Saving you from doing or saying something that will get you in trouble.”
Alanna shielded her eyes as they stepped into the sunlight.
“Let’s get this bike turned back in and head home. Then we’ll grab dinner, fish on the dock.”
“You want to let it drop?”
“We’ve done enough getting in the way, don’t you think?”
She shook her head, and his hope of keeping her distracted from the murder and mess evaporated. “There’s too much…. Somehow this ties together. Grady’s death. The property. Mr. Hoffmeister’s murder. Even the foundation books.”
Jonathan disagreed. “There’s no reason to connect Grady’s death and Mr. Hoffmeister. Eleven years is too long.” He sighed, wishing he’d never suggested the bike ride. He’d thought it would be a quick trip and a romantic time pedaling around the island. Now he’d leave sorting everything out to the police.
Alanna sank onto a bench. Her shoulders slumped, and she looked wrung out. Worry lines crossed the bridge of her nose and forehead as she studied her hands. She seemed oblivious to the flowers and other details that would normally bring her pleasure. She didn’t even seem curious to know how the Painted Stone was doing without her in its slot across the street from City Hall.
“Come on, let’s head back.”
She startled, as if he’d pulled her from deep thoughts. “What am I going to do, Jonathan?”
“We’ll forget about this for a little while. Let the police do their job.”
“What if it’s so tangled they can’t find the real murderer? What if I’m easier to focus on?”
“Then we’ll show them you didn’t do it.”
“Without an alibi?” Her voice rose, and then she stopped. She glanced around then seemed to gather herself. “You’re right. I can’t do anything right now. It’s Sunday evening.” Her stomach grumbled. “Guess I am hungry.”
“Let’s get something to eat and go from there.” He led her to one of the island’s restaurants, but the meal was quiet. Alanna couldn’t seem to rouse from wherever she’d disappeared. Her fears seemed to envelop her as she pushed the food around her plate.
Jonathan scooped food in his mouth as fast as was polite. Maybe she needed to get back to the house. Maybe in her home she’d find sanctuary and lose the clouds building on her face.
“Jonathan.” The young voice pulled Jonathan’s head up. Jonathan smiled at the grinning body torpedoing down the aisle toward him. Then he caught the resignation on Alanna’s face. Before he could say anything, try to explain, the torpedo flung himself into Jonathan’s arms. Dylan.
Alanna turned toward the adorable boy. She might not like the way Jaclyn had claimed Jonathan, but she had to admit Dylan was the image of the little boy she’d love to have someday. The blond curls made her want to pull him into her lap for a squeeze.
“Where’s your mommy?”
He grinned up at Jonathan, his tiny teeth barely filling his mouth. “She’s outside talking.” He climbed in Jonathan’s lap, and a look swept Jonathan, a mixture of love and distance.
Jonathan wasn’t hers. He belonged to Jaclyn and Dylan. Alanna swallowed against the pain and launched to her feet.
“Where are you going?” Confusion laced his words.
“I need to get home, and I know you need to spend time with this cute little guy.” She forced a smile. “Thanks for your help and being a friend, Jonathan.” She ducked her head and hurried from the restaurant, brushing past Jaclyn talking on her cell.
She could check on the studio, but honestly, after everything that had transpired, she didn’t care if it still stood. Patience had closed, and Alanna could check sales in the morning. What she needed right now was solitude. Her life seemed to erupt more each day, losing the carefully defined shape and parameters she’d crafted around it.
It would take a long time to walk home, but the fresh air and solitude would help her sort through the latest developments.
One, her heart fully belonged to Jonathan. After everything that had happened today, and the way it had trembled when she thought he was in danger, she couldn’t deny the truth. Her heart remained fully committed to Jonathan. Pressure squeezed her chest as she turned up the hill next to Fort Mackinac. Her steps slowed as she tried to catch a deep breath. Instead, it felt like the sobs would explode from her, and she couldn’t let that happen. Not here.
Two, the murder investigation remained outside her grasp. Anytime she tried to do anything about it, she only mucked up the situation. She should thank God she wouldn’t spend the night in the tiny Mackinac jail.
Three, she couldn’t walk away from the mysteries surrounding Grady’s death and the paintings. She might know Trevor had painted many of the landscapes, but she couldn’t help him if she didn’t understand what happened to Grady. And this was too central to her life to leave alone. She had to find the truth. For Trevor and for herself. After eleven years, she longed to walk away from the mess and somehow find peace.
Four, the day’s events had reinforced that she couldn’t orchestrate things on her own. In fact, when she tried, disasters happened. She needed to turn the tangled web of problems over to God. So much easier said than accomplished.
After a long hike, she finally reached the sanctuary of her parents’ home. She slipped through the house, grabbing a glass of iced tea, then hurried to the back porch. As the shadows cast by the trees teased across the yard, she felt drawn to the dock. She sat at the end, letting her feet dangle off the edge, toes skimming the top of the water.
She closed her eyes and let the quiet sounds of cicadas and bullfrogs bounce around her, punctuated by the occasional birdsong. She tried to grab hold of the moment, clearing her mind of everything that happened. Maybe if she refocused, her subconscious would untangle the mess of facts and inferences.
Alanna tipped her chin up, fighting the tears that pushed against her eyelids.
She wanted Jonathan back.
And she couldn’t have him.
All the ways he’d cared for her slipped through her mind. In the last two weeks, he’d continued to treat her with respect. He’d treated her like a treasure, standing beside her when she confronted her mother and pushing her to acknowledge the truth.
He’d stood beside her even
as he challenged her to break free from the past. He stood separated from other men she knew in the way he put her first.
Yet he belonged to another.
She could only imagine what it would be like to be the focus of his love and attention. The tears escaped as she admitted she’d walked away from him when she abandoned Mackinac. Would life have separated them anyway? She’d never know.
All she knew for sure was he wasn’t hers. She pulled her knees to her chest and lowered her head to the top.
What now, God?
Could she walk away from Jonathan and Mackinac?
As she considered the idea, she knew it wasn’t possible. She still had to fight for Trevor so she could end the lies her family lived. And she had to untangle the allegations between Mr. Tomkin and Mr. Hoffmeister.
Then she’d leave.
Jaclyn hadn’t smiled when she entered the restaurant and found Dylan on his lap. Still, Jonathan didn’t apologize. It wasn’t his fault the boy adored him. Frankly, it felt good to have the little man chattering on his lap, filling him in on a disjointed account of his day.
“Then I caught a frog.” He spread his hands. “He was this big.”
“Impressive.”
“I know! Hi, Mommy.”
Jaclyn smiled at her boy, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Hey, Dylan. Are you bothering Jonathan?”
“You know he’s not a bother.”
“I don’t know anything right now.” Dark circles undergirded her eyes. Had he caused her lack of sleep? “Dylan, we need to go home.”
Dylan stuck out his lip and wrapped his arms around Jonathan’s neck. Jonathan swallowed but slowly extricated himself from Dylan’s grip. “You’ve got to obey your mom, Dylan.”
“I want to stay with you.” The lip extended even farther.
“Not today.” Jonathan glanced at Jaclyn. “You okay?”
“Always am.” Her jaw firmed, and she studied him. “We’ll be okay regardless of what you decide. Don’t take too long. I won’t wait forever.” She tugged Dylan free. “Time to go, bud. We’ll go walk around the fort again.”
Jonathan watched them leave. Earlier this afternoon he’d been absolutely certain that Alanna was the one he wanted. Then Dylan came back.
Wedding Transpires on Mackinac Island Page 21