Just Cause

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Just Cause Page 9

by Susan Page Davis


  She unlocked the door, and Troy reached for the handle. “How come you need to work part time nights, if you drive a car like this?”

  She smiled at him. “Some folks spend it all on food and rent.”

  “Yeah, I get you. But you’re not saying you live in a dump, are you? So you can have this car, I mean.”

  Laurel got into the driver’s seat. “No, the place I’m staying in right now is not a dump. I’ll see you, Troy.”

  “Hey.” He caught the edge of the door before she could swing it to. “What do you say we go out sometime? Saturday night?”

  She shook her head. “Thanks, but no. And thank you for walking me out here.”

  He stood watching her as she backed out of the parking slot. The bumble factor, Laurel thought. He could give me away so easily. I can’t give him any personal information. And warning him would only make him more curious. Oh, yes, Troy would be fascinated by a mystery woman. She renewed her silent prayers for safety.

  *****

  Dan watched the windows on the front of the house as he drove up Judy’s driveway. He saw a flicker of movement at one. As his pickup eased toward the closed garage, the door began to rise. He drove in. Laurel stood in the doorway to the enclosed breezeway, and she lowered the overhead door as soon as his back bumper cleared it.

  “Hi.” He rounded the front of the pickup toward her. “I’ve got your stuff. Thought I’d bring it over on my lunch hour.” The garage was almost bare. He’d never seen one so neat.

  “Judy’s not home,” Laurel said. “She told me to have you park inside if you came.”

  He nodded. “Are you going crazy cooped up in there?”

  “Not yet.” She smiled. “I asked Judy if it would be safe to walk out back, and she said only if I had a big, brawny policeman with me.”

  “Let’s go.” Dan grinned and reached for her hand.

  “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “You weren’t exactly prepared to feed me, were you?”

  “No, but Judy’s got gourmet leftovers.”

  “Let’s walk first.”

  Laurel led him into the breezeway and out the patio door to the back yard. She locked the door, and in seconds they entered a leafy path that penetrated the patch of woods behind the house.

  “Judy says this trail comes out behind a development. It’s a green space, whatever that is.”

  “Gives the homeowners space and privacy, I guess.”

  Dan wondered how far he could stretch his lunch hour and decided he’d better not waste time. He held back an aggressive maple branch for Laurel, and she ducked under it, smiling up at him with a trace of shyness.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  “I should have come last night.”

  “No, you can’t wear yourself out.”

  “You’re not worrying about me, are you?” he asked.

  “Of course not.”

  Right. He stopped walking, and she did, too. When he looked down at her, he knew he hadn’t been wrong. He was certain about his feelings for her and his desire to help her. It wasn’t just her beauty. He admired her strength and determination, despite her apparent fragility. He wanted to kiss her, but her brown eyes were shadowed with fatigue, and he reminded himself of their quest and his responsibility. Not yet, he told himself.

  “I was a little uneasy last night,” she confessed. “Judy didn’t get home until late. One of her patients had an emergency.”

  “Did you get to work on time?”

  “Yeah. Barely.”

  “I printed out all the stuff I could get on your case. I want more information, but I’ll have to get my lieutenant or someone higher up to authorize it.”

  “Why? You already know how it turned out.”

  “I need to see all the reports, the court transcripts, the witness statements, the autopsy report ... everything.”

  She reached toward him. “Dan, there’s nothing you can do to change the outcome now. If you’re thinking you can, you’re mistaken.”

  “But the judge could send you to trial again anytime.”

  She froze with her hand in midair, and he seized her fingers.

  “Laurel, if that happens, I want to be ready. I don’t want any surprises. And if there’s something ... Well, I don’t want to give you false hope, but I’ve seen it happen before, where they think they have the right suspect, so they quit looking at anyone else. If the investigators let something go by because they thought they had the murderer—like I said, it’s happened before.”

  “My lawyer begged them to look at other people.” She stared past him down the path toward where it opened on a long, narrow meadow.

  “Was there anything at all that pointed to somebody else?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure they would have told me if there was.” She frowned as she looked into his eyes. “I didn’t count on this optimism.”

  He laughed. “A little hope doesn’t hurt. So ... you don’t mind if I ask my lieutenant to help me on this?”

  “I guess not.”

  He could almost read her mind. It would devastate her to believe he could help her, and then be convicted of murder.

  “Let’s walk.” He laced his fingers through hers and led her along the path toward the opening.

  She chuckled, scuffing her sneakers on the grass. “Never thought I’d be holding hands with a cop.”

  “We’re here to protect you, Laurel.”

  “I know.” She shrugged. “When I was a little girl, I got the policemen are our friends routine. But when I was arrested, I found out they’re only your friends if they think you’re innocent.”

  He eyed her sharply. “The Hatchers weren’t your friends either.”

  “No. When I took my maiden name back, part of me was glad. It put me one degree further from Wayne and Renata. But it seemed disloyal to Bob, and I felt like Bob needed some true loyalty.”

  “As opposed to false loyalty?”

  “Laugh if you want, but I couldn’t help feeling his family mourned the loss of his business sense more than anything else.”

  “Your mother-in-law said you and Bob fought before the murder.” Dan watched her closely, waiting for her reaction.

  “Everybody fights once in a while.”

  “What did you fight over?”

  “Her, mostly.”

  He smiled.

  “It wasn’t really fighting, but we talked a lot about how his family pulled us apart. Oh, look!” She dropped his hand suddenly and knelt by the path. She pushed back the leaves of a low-growing plant. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “Jack-in-the-pulpit?”

  “Yes. We have them in Maine. You have to look hard, though. They’re shy.” The subdued colors and the perfect curve of the foliage reminded him of the drawings he had seen in her sketch book.

  He pulled her up and into his arms. “How could anyone not believe you would stop to look at wildflowers on the way home from the store?”

  She exhaled in surprise. “You read that?”

  “Yes. It was so like you.”

  She leaned against him for just a moment, then pushed away gently, as though she was certain it would be a mistake to let his embrace become a habit.

  “Ryan, 279.” She traced his badge with her fingertip. “What’s your middle name?”

  An obvious ploy to change the subject, but that was all right; he would progress at her pace. “Daniel.”

  She raised her eyebrows.

  “It’s Michael Daniel Ryan. My father is Mike, so I’m Dan.”

  He touched her hair, tracing her rippling braid. “You’re an only child?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long have your folks been gone?”

  “Too long. My mom died when I was eleven. Breast cancer. And my dad was killed in a fire when I was twenty. I was away at college.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to think about those times now.”

  “All right. Let’s head back.”

  They walked along the path still hold
ing hands. Laurel unlocked the patio door, and Dan secured it when they were inside.

  “All right, Michael Daniel Ryan, Junior, you can flex your muscles and haul my stuff in here while I microwave the leftovers.”

  “Fine.” He chuckled. “Except I’m the fourth, not the second.”

  “The fourth? Oh, dear. That brings obligations.”

  They both laughed, and sweet contentment flowed through him. For a while they could forget that she was Laurel Wilson Hatcher, murder suspect. She needed an interlude of repose, a time to build trust and companionship. He wanted to give her that.

  “Well, my grandpa was Dan and his father was Michael, so I guess the next generation gets saddled with Michael.” He looked steadily into her rich, brown eyes.

  “I’ll try to remember which generation you are.”

  He smiled. “Danny is fine.”

  The color flamed in her cheeks, and he knew she remembered calling him Danny when she asked him to pray for her while he held her close. “I was a bit overwhelmed Sunday, I think.”

  “That’s all right. When you’re overwhelmed, you call me Danny. When you’re merely whelmed, Dan will do.”

  Her blush deepened, and he laughed. He leaned down and brushed her cheek with a featherlight kiss, then headed for the garage.

  *****

  “This woman lives in town?” Lieutenant Powers scanned the printouts Dan had put in his hand when he’d returned from his lunch break.

  “Yes, she’s been here almost a month, but it just came through on our updates from the state police. She’s staying with a friend on the north side of town, and she checks in with the Maine authorities once a week.”

  “Why didn’t they notify us?”

  “They did,” Dan said. “We have it on file. And she has to report in person to the state police once a month. But she’s not likely to commit a crime.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Powers’s eyes narrowed. “This is personal.”

  “Well, yes.”

  The lieutenant shook his head. “I don’t like it, Ryan.”

  “What don’t you like?”

  “You getting mixed up in this.”

  “She’s innocent,” Dan insisted.

  “That’s what they all say.”

  “No, this is for real. She didn’t do it.”

  “You have proof?” Powers asked.

  “I wish. But I don’t need proof to know it’s true.”

  Powers sighed. “Big mistake, Ryan.”

  “I don’t think so. Will you authorize some extra research for me?”

  “What if I won’t?”

  “I’ll ask the captain, and if he won’t, I’ll go to the chief.”

  “Stubborn, aren’t you?”

  “It’s me Irish blood.”

  Powers snorted. “I want a report on my desk every day. I want to know what you’re doing about this. Don’t hold anything back.”

  “It’s not an official case,” Dan protested. “I just want to look it over, see if they missed anything.”

  “If you’re looking at it, it’s my business. I can be stubborn, too, laddie.”

  *****

  The files were so thick by five o’clock Wednesday that Dan put them into the soft briefcase he used to carry papers to the courthouse. He drove straight to Judy’s house in the pouring rain.

  Laurel greeted him with a smile. “Judy will be home soon.”

  Dan nodded. Regardless of her rap sheet and her four-year marriage, she possessed an innocence that tugged at him. “I brought everything. I hope it’s not too intimidating.” He set the briefcase on the coffee table.

  She eyed it warily. “Come on, I’m making spaghetti.”

  They went through the dining room, where the table was set for three, with delicate, iris-sprigged white dishes. In the spacious kitchen Laurel went to the range, lifted the lid on a kettle, and stirred the sauce.

  Dan watched her, glad just to be in the same room with her again. He wanted to give her hope, but it wouldn’t be fair to make her hope if he couldn’t deliver.

  “Did you tell Judy about your case?”

  “Not yet.” She turned toward him, holding the wooden spoon out away from her clothing. “I really like her, but I didn’t want to just dump it on her.”

  “We’ll tell her over supper.” Dan moved in closer to her.

  “Do you really think we ought to?”

  “Yes.”

  Her eyelashes flickered as he touched her shoulder. “But I hardly know her. I mean ... what if she’s upset and wants me to leave?”

  “Then you go.”

  She swallowed. “I couldn’t tell her that first night. It’s too personal. And Monday night she was late, and I had to go right to work.”

  “I know, and if things were going to continue as they are, I wouldn’t push it. But if we’re going to tear into this investigation and spend every waking minute trying to find a way to help you, she’s got to know. It wouldn’t be fair not to tell her.”

  Laurel looked deep into his eyes. “Is that what you intend to do?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m not sure it’s worth it. What could you possibly find?”

  “I don’t know yet, but I couldn’t live with myself if I don’t give it everything I’ve got. I couldn’t stand by and watch them take you off to jail again.”

  He slid his arm around her and their undeniable attraction crackled between them. Dan hoped she would give in to it and nestle down on his shoulder. If she would let him, he could comfort her and perhaps renew the faith she’d lost during her incarceration. Deep down he believed he would find something that would sway a different jury.

  But she stood stiff as she watched him. Was she thinking about the possibility of a life prison sentence? If she let him care for her the way he wanted to, what would happen when the verdict came in? Would she be torn from his arms in the courtroom?

  He decided he’d better close the distance fast, before she followed the train of thought that far. He took the spoon from her hand, laid it on the edge of the range, and gently pulled her toward him. Her dark eyes swam with emotion as her hands landed lightly on his shirt, just below his collarbone, and slid slowly toward his shoulders. Everything in her seemed to soften, even as she tried to keep her resolve. Dan’s heart pounded.

  The garage door went up with a creak and a rattle, causing Laurel to jump back.

  A minute later, Judy appeared in the kitchen doorway. “It smells great in here.”

  “Hi.” Dan stepped away from Laurel.

  Judy’s eyes widened in pleasure. “We have a guest tonight?”

  “Yes.” Laurel laughed. “I hope you like spaghetti, because I cooked too much, even with Dan here.” He found it hard to look away from her blushing face.

  “Just let me wash up, and I’ll be right back,” Judy said.

  “Let me tell her,” Laurel said, when Judy had left the kitchen. Avoiding his gaze, she grabbed the colander and put it in the sink to strain the spaghetti.

  “All right.” He leaned back against the counter. Clearly there were still obstacles to overcome. There was Bob Hatcher’s memory, and an uncertain future. Laurel was leery of commitment—even of caring—until she was free from the threat of life imprisonment. He’d checked the legal database to be sure Maine had no death penalty, but it was bad enough. She had reason to be cautious. Patience, he told himself.

  Laurel waited until they were well into the meal, and Dan followed her lead, keeping the conversation on pleasant topics. She helped Judy clear the dishes and bring ice cream and coffee to the table. As she sat down again, Laurel turned to her hostess.

  “Judy, Dan and I have something to tell you.”

  Dan saw it coming. She had made it sound so momentous. Judy’s eyes fluttered between them, and she began to smile.

  “Wow, really?”

  “Yes,” said Laurel. “We want you to know.”

  Oh, boy, Dan t
hought. Talk about a misunderstanding.

  “You’re getting married!” Judy squealed. She sounded like a giddy teenager, not a middle-aged professional.

  Laurel’s mouth hung open as Judy’s shriek died and the two looked at each other in wonder.

  “Wrong guess?” Judy winced. “I’m sorry.”

  Dan laughed. “It’s all right.” Laurel swallowed hard, obviously trying to rephrase her announcement, and he said easily, “It’s not that, but it is quite a bombshell.”

  Judy took a sip of coffee. “Okay, I’m listening.”

  Laurel swallowed hard. “I’m on bail,” she said quietly.

  Judy stared at Laurel, obviously waiting for the punch line. There was none. She turned to Dan, her eyebrows drawn tightly together. “That’s what this is about? All this secrecy? I mean, you told me Laurel was in danger, but ...”

  Dan flexed his shoulders. “She was accused of a crime two years ago. She went to court a few months back, and the judge declared a mistrial. There’s a possibility they could recall her for another trial.”

  “Oh.” Judy studied Laurel’s face, then Dan’s.

  Laurel stared down at her melting ice cream. “If you don’t want me to live here, I’ll understand. I should have told you sooner, but—” She broke off and grabbed her napkin, chasing a tear with it.

  Judy turned a quizzical look on Dan, her eyebrows arched and her lips parted.

  “I think she’s trying to say she didn’t mean to deceive you. It’s just time you knew. Especially since Laurel and I are going to try to find some new evidence that will clear her.”

  “I guess I can cope with that.” Judy picked up her spoon and took a bite of ice cream. “You didn’t poison your last roommate, did you?”

  Laurel began to giggle, and Judy laughed, too.

  “So, tell me everything.”

  “Are you sure?” Laurel asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “In a nutshell, my husband was shot ... and they thought I did it.”

  Judy kept on eating the ice cream in silence. When the ice cream was gone, she laid down her spoon.

 

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