Gone Daddy Gone (Sloane Monroe Book 7)

by Cheryl Bradshaw

  It was a question neither of us could answer.

  “What do you know about the other guy Shelby was seeing?”

  “Jesse? Not much.”

  “Did he come around?”

  “I saw him twice. Once when she said they’d just met and one other time not too long ago. The second time I saw him, they’d been in a fight. I told Coop about him, and I’m sure he’s talked to them already. I wanted to tell Cade about the fight, but I was worried he’d do what he did to Paul, so I didn’t.”

  “What makes you say they were in a fight?”

  “When he walked out of the guesthouse that last time, he slammed the front door. Then he got in his truck and peeled out of the driveway.”

  “Do you know why or what happened?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “After he left, I walked over to see if she was all right.”

  “What did she say?”

  “All she said was, ‘I’m fine, don’t worry about it.’”

  CHAPTER 18

  The sun’s rays bounced off the glistening snow, blinding me. I pressed my hand to my forehead, using it as a visor, and kept on walking. I was looking for a cluster of pine trees Maddie had described as “a mother and father tree with a baby in the middle.” It didn’t take long to find the snowy trio, or the rock where Shelby had been gunned down. I turned back, glancing in the direction I’d just come from. I could see Maddie’s house and a couple of others on the same street. Shelby had been so close, and yet so far away at the same time.

  In the distance, two children tossed snowballs at one another while their mother looked on, laughing and taking photos. Near the pond, a couple walked together, the man’s arm slung around the woman, pulling her into him. The park appeared so safe and happy. It was hard to believe only a short time ago it wasn’t.

  I crouched next to the rock, smoothing the snow off the top with my hand, allowing my mind to drift back to the memories I’d shared with Shelby—the good times, the bad, the chance to be the positive role model she’d never had. She’d been stripped of life, and I’d been stripped of the chance to see the woman she would have become.

  As far as suspects, we still only had two. I believed Elise had nothing to do with Shelby’s murder, and even though she’d claimed to be with Paul at the time of the murder, I wasn’t totally convinced of his innocence. Rage was rage. If he was capable of killing his wife in cold blood, he was capable of killing Shelby. I just needed to find a way to prove it one way or the other.

  While I sat there contemplating, a shadow, long and black, spread across the rock like an eclipse of the sun. I wasn’t alone. Someone was there with me.

  I looked up at the large, crooked nose looming overhead and said, “Coop, what are you doing here?”

  “We need to talk.”

  CHAPTER 19

  “We’ve talked to every Adele Winters in the area,” Coop said. “No one matched the age or description of the girl who visited you the other night.”

  We walked toward Maddie’s house. “Maybe she’s not from here, or maybe her ID was a fake.”

  He shrugged. “Or maybe you gave me the wrong name on purpose.”

  “Are you accusing me of lying?”

  “Did you?”

  I stuck my hands inside my coat pockets. “I’ve never been dishonest with you about anything.”

  “You’ve kept things from me. Same thing.”

  “It isn’t the same thing. I’ve withheld information from you in the past because you do the same thing to me. You never tell me anything, never answer my questions, never—”

  He raised a finger. “I got it. Stop squawking.”

  “You could have told me Nick works for you, you know, instead of springing him on me last night like you did.”

  He grinned. “And spoil the surprise? Why would I do that?”

  We arrived back at Maddie’s house, and he followed me inside. He lifted a baseball cap off his head, ran a hand through his graying hair, then stuck the cap back on again.

  “I can’t imagine you drove over to talk to me about the girl who visited me the other night, so why are you here?”

  He seemed pleased that I asked. Too pleased. He took out his cell phone, opened a video, and flipped the phone around. He pressed play, and I watched as Maddie and I walked around the guesthouse earlier that morning.

  “How did you ... where did you get this?” I asked. “Did you set up a surveillance camera in there?”

  He nodded.

  “Why? It’s not the crime scene.”

  “We found a few cigarette butts on the ground outside of Shelby’s bedroom window when we were gathering evidence. Maddie doesn’t smoke, all of Shelby’s friends we interviewed don’t smoke ... well, not cigarettes anyway, and from what we know about Shelby, she didn’t smoke either.”

  “She didn’t.”

  At least I didn’t think she did.

  “It’s possible the murderer watched her for a time, possibly waiting for the right moment to attack. We made a couple casts of the size-ten shoe impressions we found in the snow close to where Shelby was murdered. We found the exact same prints outside of Shelby’s window. They weren’t preserved well enough to cast, but they appeared to be the same tread pattern. It was a long shot to set up the camera, but hey, looks like the long shot paid off, just not in the way I thought it would.”

  Maddie’s slender frame cast a shadow across the floor in the next room. I assumed she was leaning against the wall, listening. She stepped into the room and said, “I ... uhh ... just made a pot of coffee, if you’re interested.”

  “Black,” he said. “No sugar. And don’t think you’re off the hook, Madison. I told you to stay clear of the guesthouse.”

  “Uhh, the way I see it, you set a camera up on my property without my permission, so if you’re going to point a finger, you’d better point one at yourself too.”

  She turned, disappearing into the kitchen.

  “I’d like to call a truce,” I said. “I don’t know why you released Cade instead of charging him, but I appreciate it. Besides, we can cover more ground if we work together.”

  He extended his hand, palm facing me. “Not interested. I’m just here to get what I came for.”

  I moved a hand to my hip, knowing what he wanted—the wooden box. “You’re a bitter, arrogant ass.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Whenever our paths cross, you’re a complete jerk. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a woman, or if it’s because you have a problem with me in general. I don’t care what authority you have now. I’m done trying to get along with you. I just wish every case wasn’t such a nightmare. You hate me. I don’t know why, but hey, it’s fine. I accept it.”

  I expected a verbal lashing, one of his usual quick-witted comebacks, crushing words meant to put me to shame. Instead he blinked, said nothing. The rewarding victory I’d hoped to feel for putting him in his place didn’t come. I folded my arms, and we stood in awkward silence.

  He sighed. “Well, I’ve been meaning to do this, and I guess now is as good of a time as any. I want to show you something.”

  He pulled his wallet out of his pocket. “Let’s sit.”

  We walked into the living room, and each took a seat. He peeled back a stack of twenty-dollar bills in his wallet and removed a photo. It was bent and creased—worn, like it was older than the wallet he carried it in. He smoothed it with a hand and then offered it to me.

  I stared down at the photo in disbelief. “Is this your daughter?”

  He nodded.

  “I can’t believe it,” I said. “She looks like ... me.”

  Her hair was long and a couple of shades lighter, but her more delicate features—the shape of her face, the sparkle in her deep brown eyes, her tiny lips—all mirrored mine.

  “She did look like you, yes,” he said.

  “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “I didn’t feel it was any of your business.”

  “Why
are you telling me now?”

  He shrugged. “What you just said about me hating you ... it isn’t true. You’re not my favorite person, but I don’t hate you.”

  I got it now. “It must be hard for you to be around me. When you look at me, you must think of her.”

  “At times. It isn’t just the similarity in looks. Your mannerisms, your attitude, putting yourself in danger and taking unnecessary risks—she was the same way. The past is the past. I don’t like to think about it. I don’t like to be reminded of it either.”

  “You’re not the only one with a past you’d rather forget. We all have things that cause us pain.”

  Maddie entered the room, passed around the cups of coffee, and sat down, crisscrossing her legs on the couch. “Nice to see the two of you bonding.”

  “I wouldn’t call it bonding,” Coop said.

  She changed the subject. “What did you get out of Paul? Anything?”

  “Not a thing,” Coop said. “He’s still playing the insanity card. Met with his lawyer today, and the lawyer ordered a psych evaluation.”

  “He’s not crazy,” I said.

  “Oh, I know he’s not,” Coop said. “He can play his games. Won’t matter. He’ll end up in prison either way.”

  “I sent Shelby’s autopsy report to you a few hours ago,” Maddie said. “Have you looked it over yet?”

  “Yep. It’s useless. There’s no usable evidence. No fingerprints. No sign of sexual assault. Nothing to help us catch this guy.” He looked at me. “And that’s why you’re going to give me the box I saw in the surveillance video.”

  I went into the next room, removed one of the business cards from the planter base, and took the box to him. He handed his coffee mug to me like I was his personal assistant and said, “Thanks, I gotta run.”

  CHAPTER 20

  I found Jesse Baldwin, installing sheetrock on a framed house in a new subdivision on Cranston Drive in Murray. He was tall and slender, with rosy cheeks and short, tidy, blond hair. He had an innocent farm boy look about him, like he hadn’t uttered a curse word in his entire life.

  I introduced myself, and he seemed to know why I was there. Another detective had visited him earlier. I assumed it was Nick.

  Jesse set his staple gun down on a piece of plywood and suggested continuing the conversation in the model unit, which I appreciated. I was shivering, and the model was heated. A few minutes later, after I’d thawed out, he started the conversation.

  “I can’t believe what happened to Shelby,” he said. “It’s a darn shame.”

  “When did the two of you meet?”

  He thought about it. “About five weeks ago, I guess. I was walking out of the gym after a workout and she was coming in. She dropped her water bottle, and I picked it up. I told her I’d give it back if she agreed to have lunch with me.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She smiled and then said yes. The next day we went for a drive. I know this spot where deer group together and thought she’d enjoy seeing some wildlife. We had a great time. I couldn’t get enough of her laugh. I can still hear it, like she’s standing beside me.”

  “How much time did you spend together?”

  He walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “You want anything? Let’s see ... we have a few root beers in here and some lemon-lime soda.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He grabbed a donut off the counter, cracked open a root beer, and took a few swigs. “I saw Shelby off and on, whenever she had free time. In the beginning, we were together a lot, almost every day. By the third week, it started to change.”

  “What happened?”

  “She was always busy. I tried talking to her about it, and I didn’t get anywhere. She kept making excuses about why we couldn’t go out.”

  “What changed? Do you know?”

  “She didn’t say. I came second to whatever else she had going on in her life. I tried calling, she wouldn’t answer. Hours would go by. Sometimes she’d call back. Other times I’d get a text message the next morning saying she’d fallen asleep. The first couple of times, I let it slide. Then I felt like it was one excuse after another. I figured if she couldn’t make me a priority, I wasn’t sticking around.”

  “Did you talk to her about it?”

  He nodded. “Sure did.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Not much. She wasn’t much of a talker. I figured she was blowing me off for someone else.”

  “Did she mention anyone else?”

  “She said I was the only one she was seeing. I wanted to believe her, but when I saw her leaving a hockey game with two of the players, I knew she was hiding a part of her life from me. One of the guys took her to his car, and after she got in, he leaned down and they kissed. It wasn’t a peck on the cheek either.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I waited at her house until she came home, and then I confronted her. She tried to say the guy was someone she’d dated before she met me. She only agreed to go out with him again so she could break things off. I knew I was being fed a line of crap. I’m not an idiot. I know when I’m being played.”

  “Did she ever mention a man named Paul to you?”

  He shook his head. “She never talked about anyone else, not even her friends. Seemed kinda weird.”

  “How did it end between you?”

  “We went to a movie one night. Halfway to her house she got a text message, and then she asked me if I could turn around and drop her off at a friend’s house.”

  Finally I was getting somewhere. “Where does the friend live?”

  He gave me the address, an upper-class neighborhood in Capital Hill.

  “Did she happen to mention whose house it was?”

  “She didn’t. I dropped her off, we kissed, and she watched me drive away before she went inside. I thought it was strange since it was so cold outside, but honestly, the entire relationship was strange.”

  “Did you see her again after that night?”

  He nodded. “Right before she died, actually. I went to her house, told her I couldn’t be involved with her anymore. I said I wanted a committed relationship, something that was going somewhere, and I didn’t think she wanted the same thing.”

  I crossed one leg over the other. “How did she take it?”

  “She teared up. But you know something? I didn’t feel like her tears were for me. I don’t know. Hard to explain, I guess. She seemed lost, like she wanted to be with me, but at the same time she didn’t.”

  The front door opened, and a man poked his head in. “Jesse, you gonna finish working today or what?”

  “I’ll be right there,” Jesse said.

  “I have one last question. Did Shelby ever mention having any problems with anyone, or seem worried about anything?”

  He shook his head. “I know it’s not the answer you want. And look, I heard about the article in the paper. It explains a lot. Makes me wonder what else she was hiding. Figure that out, and maybe you’ll find the man you’re after.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Knowing I needed to repair the damage I’d done with Nick, I sent him a text and asked if he wanted to take a ride with me. He agreed, and I drove to his house to pick him up. I parked curbside and let him know I was there. Everything about him seemed different now. I was shocked to see him living in a stucco house in a cookie-cutter neighborhood, and owning of a fat, gray cat, which was perched atop a sofa, staring out the window at me like I was tonight’s dinner.

  The front door opened, and Nick stepped out. A woman followed after him. She smiled at me as she walked him to my car.

  Great, just what I need right now, an awkward exchange with my ex-boyfriend’s wife.

  She was everything I wasn’t—younger, thinner, innocent, and she had a sweet, fresh face, like she hadn’t experienced a day of hardship in her entire life.

  Nick opened the passenger-side door and bent down. “Sloane, this is my wife Marissa.”

 
; Marissa leaned in and extended a hand toward me. I shook it.

  “I hope you don’t mind me coming out here like this,” she said in a thick Southern accent, “but Nick has talked a lot about you, and I really wanted to say hello.”

  I was unclear about her true motive for meeting me. Wanting to keep the conversation brief, I went with a standard reply. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Can I just say something? I really like your short hair. Looks great on you.”

  I resisted the urge to say—thanks, not everyone can pull it off.

  And by everyone, I did mean her.

  “Thanks.”

  “I think what you do for a living is really neat,” she said.

  Neat?

  Good grief.

  Again, I thanked her, hoping the compliment part of our conversation was over, and we could wrap things up and be on our way.

  But no ...

  She said, “Oh, and I’m sorry to hear about your ... well, I guess she was like your step-daughter, right?”

  I smiled at Nick in a way that prompted him to look at Marissa and say, “We need to get going, honey.”

  Yeah, honey. We need to go.

  “Oh, okay,” she said. “When do you think you’ll be back?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll call you if I’m going to be too late.”

  She glanced at me for a split-second and bit her lip, and I saw the worry in her eyes. She may have been more sugar and spice than I could handle, but I didn’t feel right about leaving without putting her at ease. “I just need him to talk to a suspect with me. We won’t be long.”

  My words seemed to pacify her. She brushed her lips across Nick’s and backed away from the car.

  Halfway down the street, Nick shook his head at me. “I see the judgmental look on your face, Sloane. What are you thinking?”

  “She seems a little on the young side.”

  “Do I detect a hint of jealousy in your voice?”

  “You detect a hint of honesty in my voice.”