Fair Warning

by Hannah Alexander

  This time the crowd was congregated on the lawn in front of Sandi’s apartment. Graham parked quickly and got out.

  “Dr. Vaughn!” Carl Mackey shouted from the porch. “The police call you?”

  “No, Willow did. Where is she?”

  Carl pointed toward Sandi’s apartment. “Inside with Sandi and the detective and some policemen. We’ve been scouring the place. The police need your keys to the other apartments so they can search.”

  Graham pulled a set of eight keys from his pocket.

  “They’re bringing in a search-and-rescue dog,” Carl said. “Police are questioning everybody, even me! Said I was supposedly the one who got Willow out of the apartment. As if I’d do something like that.”

  “Where is Sandi?”

  “The police just brought her in from her job a couple of minutes ago. Did you know Willow was babysitting?” The man shook his head sadly. “This doesn’t look good. All this time leaving those little kids alone at night, and now, with a babysitter, they disappear.”

  A loud snap of female outrage filled the air, shooting through the open front door of the apartment. “What did you do to my kids?” It was Sandi’s voice, sharp and angry.

  Graham excused himself and crossed the threshold into the living room to find Willow seated on the sofa between a uniformed officer and Detective Trina Rush.

  Sandi stood in the middle of the room, the center of attention, wearing a white Stetson hat, tight white shorts, white cowgirl boots and a Western-cut red-and-white-plaid shirt with several buttons undone. It was her uniform at the Stetson Bar and Grill, a popular nightspot downtown where she worked.

  Her face was flushed, long tawny hair splayed across her shoulders. “Now I know why you wanted to babysit so badly this week,” Sandi accused Willow. “You practically begged to stay with them!”

  “Sandi, you know why I stayed with them.” Willow’s voice was clear and calm.

  “You threatened me!” Sandi looked at Detective Rush. “She threatened that if I didn’t let her stay with my girls she’d cause me trouble.”

  “How?” the detective asked quietly.

  “Does it matter how?” Sandi demanded. “The point is that she threatened me.”

  “That was not a threat,” Willow said. “I merely stated the facts, and then offered to help.”

  “She forced me to let her stay here alone with the girls,” Sandi told the detective. “Now my kids are gone. Don’t you think that’s just a little too coincidental?”

  “Would you please have a seat?” The detective gestured toward the chair next to the sofa.

  Instead, Sandi took a step closer to Willow. “You’re not going to get away with this. Where did you hide them? How long have you been planning this? You don’t care about those little girls or—”

  “Ms. Jameson,” the detective warned, “please sit down.”

  Sandi hesitated for a tense moment, then did as she was told.

  “Is there anyone else to whom you’ve given a key to this apartment?” the detective asked.

  “Just her.” Sandi pointed to Willow.

  “If I had taken Lucy and Brittany, do you think I’d still be here?” Willow asked Sandi. “Would I have called the police? You were leaving them alone at home at night, and that’s a reportable offense.”

  “But you didn’t report it, did you?” Sandi snapped.

  “I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt,” Willow said. “I only offered to stay with the girls to help you during a bad time.”

  “Oh, and you sure helped, didn’t you? Now my babies are missing!” She glared at the uniformed policeman. “Did you look in her car? You’ve got to look in her car! It’s where you found the other things.”

  “Detective Rush?” Graham said. “I brought the keys to the other apartments.”

  Willow looked up at him, and he heard her sigh of relief. There was no mistaking the tension in the set of her jaw, the rigidity of her shoulders.

  “Thank you, Dr. Vaughn.” Trina Rush stood up. “We have officers making the rounds, but there are a couple of units where no one seems to be home.”

  “I’ll check them out,” Graham said.

  “Thanks. I’ll have Officer Tidwell go with you.”

  Willow watched Graham walk out of the apartment with the officer, then she reached into the pocket of her jeans, turning back to Trina Rush. “I didn’t take Sandi’s children, and I didn’t start the fire, but in case someone is playing another cruel prank, an officer should look in my car.” She pulled out her keys and held them out.

  Trina looked at the keys, hesitated, then took them. “We have your permission to search your car?”

  “Of course.”

  Trina handed the keys to another uniformed officer. “Go ahead. It’s the dark red Subaru.”

  Obviously the officer knew which car was Willow’s. Sandi started to leave the apartment with him.

  “There’s no need for you to go, Sandi,” the detective said. “I need to ask you a few more questions.”

  Sandi turned back reluctantly and sank into her chair.

  “Why don’t you tell me what kind of trouble Willow was going to cause you?” Detective Rush asked.

  Sandi glared at Willow. “Let her tell you herself.”

  The detective looked at Willow. “Well?”

  “When I found the girls Monday night, Sandi wasn’t there. I confronted her about leaving her children at home alone at night while she’s working.”

  The officer came back inside with Willow’s car keys and handed them to her. “Nothing there.”

  Sandi leaned back in her chair and covered her face with her hands. “Just tell me where you took them,” she whispered. “Please.”

  “I’m sorry, Sandi,” Willow said. “I shouldn’t have left them alone, but it was only for a few minutes. I locked the door behind me.” She had repeated this story several times already. “Carl Mackey was supposed to be right up, and he was going to guard the door until I got back. I wish I’d waited until—”

  “You’re lying,” Sandi said. “You have to be lying. He said he didn’t know anything about it.”

  “What about that man the girls were telling me about tonight?” Willow asked. “The one you fight with?”

  Sandi’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Then she shook her head. “You’re the only one with a key.”

  “Sandi,” Detective Rush said, “how often do you leave your children at home alone when you work?”

  The interview continued, and as Willow sat back in silence, listening, she couldn’t displace the memory of Lucy and Brittany talking about the man who made their mother cry.

  Ten minutes later Graham and Officer Tidwell entered the apartment carrying Lucy and Brittany.

  Graham watched Sandi’s reaction as he and Tidwell set the sleepy little girls on their feet. She burst into tears, rushing across the living room to grab her daughters.

  “Where have you been?”

  “Where did you find them?” Detective Rush asked the officer.

  “In apartment Four A,” Tidwell replied.

  “That’s Mrs. Engle’s apartment,” Sandi said. “Kids, you need to tell me what happened. Lucy? Did you and Brittany play a joke on Willow?”

  “No, Mama,” Lucy said.

  “No, Mama, we like Willow,” Brittany said. “She’s nicer than that man—”

  “Then tell me what you were doing in Mrs. Engle’s apartment.”

  “They were asleep,” Graham told her. “All snuggled together in Mrs. Engle’s bed.”

  “Lucy,” Sandi said, “do you remember how you two got there?”

  The older child shook her head, dark brown eyes wide but still groggy. “We didn’t know we were in her apartment until they woke us up.” She pointed at Graham and Tidwell.

  “Well, then you must have woken up when you went to Mrs. Engle’s apartment,” Sandi said.

  Brittany shook her head. “Uh-uh. I’m sleepy. Can I go to bed?”
>
  “We went to bed in our own room.” Lucy looked over at Willow. “Didn’t we, Willow? Even before our bedtime.”

  “That’s right, sweetheart,” Willow said. “But are you sure you didn’t wake up later, when I wasn’t here?”

  Both girls shook their heads.

  “Why did they go to bed before their bedtimes?” Sandi demanded. “They never do that.”

  “We were sleepy tonight, Mama,” Brittany said. “Remember? You kept us up late last night when you were shouting at Willow.”

  Sandi shot a quick glance toward Trina Rush, who held the gaze, eyes narrowing slightly.

  “Go on to bed, you two,” Sandi told her girls. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

  “They’ll need to sleep elsewhere until our officers have gathered all the evidence they can find in their room,” Detective Rush said.

  “My bedroom, then, girls,” Sandi said, then muttered, “I’m not going to be sleeping much tonight, anyway.”

  “Do they ever sleepwalk?” Graham asked as the girls disappeared down the hallway.

  “Never,” Sandi said.

  “But according to Willow,” Detective Rush said, “you aren’t always home with your children at night. So you can’t know that for sure.” She motioned for the uniformed officers. “Check out the apartment where you found them. Do a fingerprint check of every room.” She turned to Willow, and her gaze searched Willow’s face, as if already gathering evidence. “I’ll need you to come to the station with me.”

  “Again?”

  “That’s right. And Sandi, I want to ask you later about this mysterious man. I would also advise you to take the girls to the hospital emergency department to be checked out.”

  “They’re fine. You saw them—they’re just sleepy.” Sandi folded her arms over her chest. “Willow wouldn’t hurt them, and you can’t make me take them in.”

  The detective sighed, obviously tired herself. “That’s right, I can’t. But I will need to question you before I leave tonight, so have a seat.”

  It promised to be a long night.

  Chapter Twelve

  The closest parking spot Graham could find to the Stetson Bar and Grill was two blocks away. Obviously this was a popular place.

  He pulled in behind a pickup truck beside the curb and got out, studying the low-slung building constructed of cedar and brick. He’d heard interesting stories about this place, how the police had to come here often to check out complaints about the noise. Sometimes the music got too loud. Word around town was that this was the place to come for a good time.

  He couldn’t help wondering what they meant by “good time.” He doubted they meant a good country music show, though they did advertise live music on Friday and Saturday nights. Since Branson was known for its live music shows, he doubted a band would draw crowds.

  He had called Ginger to update her on tonight’s events, and she was on her way to the police station to intercept Willow when the police released her.

  Judging by the last time Willow had been questioned, she would be there awhile, and he wanted to follow up on a hunch.

  Sandi Jameson could be covering for someone. Preston had remarked that something didn’t seem quite right about her, that she’d seemed “whacked” at times.

  Graham wanted to know more about the man Sandi’s little girls had mentioned. Could this whole thing be drug related? Could that man be Sandi’s supplier?

  And Sandi had seemed so convinced that Willow had been the one to take the girls—even desperate to convince the police of it. Why? Was she trying to deflect suspicion from herself? Or from the mysterious man?

  He didn’t want to be judgmental. He knew Sandi was in a tight spot, trying to take care of her children, struggling to support them. But he still couldn’t overlook the fact that she’d left those little girls alone at home often, had made a habit of it. And then she’d had the gall to shriek like a shrew at Willow for leaving them alone for five minutes.

  He’d hoped the police would question Sandi more thoroughly, but it seemed that, once again tonight, they had decided to focus their efforts on Willow.

  No one could blame them, of course, but he did hope they would follow up on that man.

  The music blasted Graham as soon as he stepped into the foyer of the restaurant-bar. A woman wearing the same type of outfit Sandi had had on this evening—white Stetson, tight white shorts, white boots, red-and-white-checked shirt—greeted him at the door, looking harried, with a smile that wasn’t quite in place.

  “You want smoking or non?”

  “Actually, I’d like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

  The not-quite-there smile slipped further. “Honey, it’s Friday night, we’ve got a full house and we’re short a server. You want a table or not?”

  He glanced toward the bar and hesitated. She wasn’t in the mood to talk, obviously, but maybe someone else would be. “I’ll take that stool at the bar if it’s open.”

  She looked relieved. “Suit yourself.” She grabbed a menu and walked him to the stool. “The server will be with you shortly.”

  He thanked her, making no effort to peruse the menu. He had no appetite after tonight’s excitement. Still, he would have to order something. This place didn’t make money without selling their food and drinks. He felt foolish about the reason he was here. The police would most likely have already been here, asked their questions and reached their conclusions.

  Why did he feel as if he had to check up on the police? They had proven time and again that they were perfectly capable of doing their jobs.

  But this concerned Willow.

  He ordered coffee and asked the middle-aged man next to him about his experience here, how often he came, who waited on him. The guy was a newcomer. But the man on Graham’s other side overheard his questions.

  “Oh, yeah,” the younger blond man said with a smile. “Sandi works a lot when I’m here. She’s a sexy lady, and she knows it.”

  “Really?”

  The guy spread his hands. “Sure. She’s quite a head turner. Real friendly.”

  Graham took a sip of his coffee. “I’m curious. The apartment complex where Sandi lives caught fire on Monday night, and she and her children had to move out for a few days.”

  “Children?” the man asked, obviously surprised. “Sandi has kids?”

  “Two little girls.”

  “Married?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  The man shook his head sadly. “It’s a shame a woman has to stay out late at night when she should be home tucking her little girls into bed. Everything okay with them?”

  Graham nodded. “They’re already back in the apartment. You come here often?”

  The guy grinned. “Too often.”

  “The fire struck early Monday morning. I don’t suppose you were here then.”

  The man hesitated and frowned at Graham. “Matter of fact, I was. They close at one o’clock on Monday morning. Weekend business is the best.”

  “Even on Sunday night?”

  “Sure is. Folks hang out along the street after closing. It’s a real friendly group.”

  Judging by the loud talk and laughter that seemed to rock this place, Graham guessed the man knew what he was talking about.

  “I don’t suppose you’d have noticed a good-looking woman like Sandi hanging around after closing?” he asked the man.

  “You bet. She was talking to some customers outside the grill when the police cruised by and stopped. Wasn’t long after that Sandi left. I just figured the cops were breaking up the party, since they were getting a little loud.”

  Graham glanced around the room. “Like now?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So you’re saying she was here at the grill at the time?”

  “Well, now that you mention it, I heard one of the other girls complain because she had to cover Sandi’s customers, but she was here after closing.”

  “Did you notice who s
he was talking to?”

  The guy shrugged. “Couldn’t see a face.”

  “She has a boyfriend?”

  “I’m not sure if you’d call him a boyfriend, but I know some man came around a few times when she was working. She’d step outside for a few minutes, then come back in alone. One time she didn’t come back. The other server was mad.”

  “I don’t suppose anyone here could give me the name of the guy she was talking to,” Graham asked.

  “Doubt it. The girl who complained doesn’t even work here anymore.”

  “Were you here earlier tonight?” Graham asked. “Say, about eight?”

  “Sure was. I had dinner, then stayed around for the band. Good stuff. They’ll have their own theater someday. If you wait, they’ll be back out after break.”

  “Was Sandi here?”

  “She sure was, but she went hightailing it out about the time the band started. Don’t know why. Maybe she had a short shift.”

  Graham didn’t fill in the blanks for the man. He would most likely read about it in tomorrow’s paper. Especially if the notorious reporter Jolene Tucker had any inkling of what was happening.

  Graham couldn’t say why he found the information about Sandi’s caller intriguing. So she might have a boyfriend. That was not a crime. There was nothing suspicious about it.

  Still, he would have a talk with some of the other renters and see if Sandi ever had visitors in her apartment.

  Graham’s cell phone chirped, and he recognized Ginger’s number on the tiny screen.

  He excused himself and took the phone outside to answer. It was too noisy inside. “You can’t be telling me they’ve dismissed her already,” he said as he stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  “Have some faith, Graham,” Ginger said. “I’ve been praying my heart out here on the steps in front of the station. They’re releasing her. Where are you?”

  “Out checking some alibis.”

  “Willow’s?” Ginger asked.

  “Sandi’s.”

  “And?” Ginger prompted.

  “Clear. She was here when the whole thing took place.”

  “You need to get to the station, and fast,” Ginger said.