“Listen, Liz, I’m trying to be your friend here,” Ted Meyer said gruffly. “I’m just passing on what I heard. He’s always been a wild sort of guy, known for his reckless side, fast cars, and one-night flings.”
She refused to take his bait. “Listen, Ted, if you don’t see it with your eyes, don’t invent it with your mouth. I dislike vicious rumors.”
“I’m just telling it like it is, Liz. You asked.” His face reddened. “Hey, I gotta go.” He hitched up his pants and left abruptly, the side door creaking as he went outside.
“Don’t mind Ted,” Mary Jo said in a low voice. “He’s a little cranky from working overtime. One of his buddies is off sick with the flu and everyone is covering his shifts.”
“Are you happy?” Elise asked suddenly, the words spilling out of her mouth before she had a chance to analyze her thoughts. It was heartbreaking to see a woman as bright as Mary Jo give up everything to live such a squalid existence.
“I adore my kids,” Mary Jo said. “I don’t know what I’d do without them.”
Elise grimaced. She hadn’t said she adored or loved Ted. “Did you ever think of going back to school and getting your degree? You were thinking about elementary education, and you’d be a natural, Mary Jo.”
The woman’s eyes grew distant. “Ted and I talked about it, but right now the money just isn’t there. Did I tell you we’re saving to buy a small cabin and some land outside Scranton? Ted wants a hunting camp, and it would be perfect for the kids.”
“You could always take out loans, ask your parents for one, or check into scholarships,” Elise persisted.
“Ted’s pride would never allow it.” Mary Jo shook her head and paused a moment. Then, as if coming back to reality, she rose and slapped her hand lightly on the table. “Anyway, enough about me. Tell me what little Lizzie Springer has been doing while I get these kids something to eat and drink.”
****
Dressed in street clothes, Nick Peters sat at his work station, which looked more like a garbage heap than a state trooper’s work area. Cardboard cups, candy wrappers and a day-old bologna sandwich fought for room with pencils, books, and a group picture of his eight brothers and sisters in a simple wooden frame. The man was clearly overworked.
“Is this creative clutter?” Elise asked when he hopped up to clear a pile of papers from the chair beside his desk.
“No, this is actually tidy and rather organized for me,” he admitted. “Cindy and I only share our dad’s features. Our work habits are at both ends of the spectrum. This office drives her crazy every time she stops in. She wants to dive in and clean it up. So what can I do for you?”
From her purse, Elise withdrew the flash drive with a copy of the database. “There’s a database of Mike Fisher’s on here I can’t read. I was thinking perhaps it had to do with work.”
Nick Peters turned to his computer beside him and inserted the flash drive. After a series of faulty tries, the screen filled up with information. “Looks like a copy of Mike’s logs and reports for work. You couldn’t get it to work because it’s software specific.”
“What kind of logs?”
“His work schedule, cases, notations. He must have checked out a laptop to do some work at home. This is routine stuff we usually try to get done in the office, but it’s not always possible. This is the original flash drive, right?”
She stared at him, trying to decide whether to tell the truth. He turned to her and waited for her response. There was a long silence as each waited for the other.
When it was evident she was not about to lie, he laughed and said, “Okay, that was a dumb question, even for a cop. Don’t answer it, and I won’t have to get a search warrant. It’s not going to do you any good without the program-specific software. I guess I should remind you, it’s confidential information.”
He turned back to the computer, and she stood and moved behind him, peering over his shoulder.
“You know, this makes me a little uneasy letting you see this,” he said and swiveled his head to look at her. He paged down the screen, stopping occasionally to scan the contents. “But I’m a sucker for a woman who smells heavenly.”
“So keep inhaling and keep your finger on the down arrow. Wouldn’t it make for an interesting legal case if confidential information was on a flash drive not owned by the police?” She smiled, squinting at the screen. “How well did you know Mike Fisher?”
“Enough to know he was a damn good cop.”
“Would he be the type to run off with undercover money?”
“Absolutely not. Hmmm...” He scrolled farther down through the material. “There’s nothing really important here, Elise. It looks like a lot of traffic reports and violations. Probably old stuff from his job back in New Castle.”
“Did you see him the day he died?” Somehow she had to try to get an insight into what had happened prior to the accident. Lucas had admitted he knew nothing about what had occurred in the days leading up to it. The lack of details had been needling her for days now.
“Yes, come to think of it. Mike stopped by before his afternoon shift. We had our usual talk complaining about dumb things at work.” He turned back to his desk and pulled out a notebook, flipping through the pages until he came to a page and stopped, running a neatly trimmed nail down the list of what looked like a telephone logbook. “The entries for the day were routine. He made a few calls.”
He looked up at her. She had moved and was now leaning over his other shoulder again. “You really should consider undercover investigation. We need more nosy people out there working for us.” He smiled. “Here, the last call, placed at about eleven p.m., was to Mary Jo Meyer’s house. He must have needed a sitter for the next day. He died at one the next morning.”
Puzzled, she sat back down. “Let’s be candid, Nick. Was he the kind of man to lose control of a car?”
“Are you kidding? Those Fisher boys shared a car gene even if they weren’t raised together. I’ve never seen anyone handle a vehicle as well as Mike, except maybe for Lucas. But then, accidents do happen even to the best drivers. He was coming off a shift and he might have been tired.”
“The police report said the driver’s side was dented as well as the passenger’s side.”
“Yeah, it was, which means someone could have hit him, and then he hit the tree. There could be endless possibilities when you think about it.”
“Give me a few,” she said, wanting to visualize the accident herself.
Nick shrugged and turned his eyes toward the ceiling, contemplating an answer. “Well, he could have swerved to avoid something like an animal crossing the road, lost control, traveled farther and gone over the bank. We’re still working on that particular theory, Elise, if it makes you feel better. Maybe he swerved to avoid another car coming toward him and crossing the center line.”
“Who filed the accident report?”
“Initially the township, but then because it was one of our own involved, the state police also investigated.”
“And you’ve seen the report?” she asked.
“Yeah, what are you getting at?” Confused, he squinted at her.
“Something someone missed?”
“On the car?”
She nodded. “On the car or on the report. What make and color of car was Mike driving?”
“A white Honda.” He heaved a sigh. “Tell you what, I’ll take a look at it one more time. I’ll have to do it on my own time, though.”
She smiled. “Thanks. Take Fritz with you, will you? His insurance-minded brain is pretty good at picking out unique details. One last question.”
“Shoot.”
“If a cop wanted to hide something...anything, like money, perhaps. What would he be thinking? What would be going on inside his head?”
Nick chewed the inside of his lip. “He’d stay away from traditional places. Safes, cupboards, mattresses, mirrors, closets, the logical ones every average Joe falls for. He’d choose a spot so obvious no
one would ever think about it, a place you or the public might pass by without giving it a second thought. You know the theory of overlooking something right under your nose?”
“Thanks, you’ve been a big help.” Elise rose and extended her hand.
He shook it with a hard, firm grip. “I’ll try to keep you updated.”
“I appreciate it, really I do.” She smiled warmly and collected her purse.
“I have a question,” he said and returned her smile with an equally warm one. “Are you and Fisher a solid thing yet?”
“It’s beginning to look that way,” she admitted.
“I was afraid of that,” he said and shook his head. “Just my luck.”
Chapter Seventeen
With the top down on the Corvette, the sun shining bright, and a soft warm breeze sifting through her hair, Elise drove into Scranton enjoying the mild spring day. Fritz and Cindy were taking Todd over to Cindy’s house for dinner with plans to raid the attic for old baseball cards stashed there by her brothers when they finally outgrew their mania for collecting cardboard.
It was Elise’s turn to make dinner, which she decided to have at the cottage with Lucas while they reviewed the latest renovations. Her first and only thought was take-out. Mentally, she clicked off a list of possible choices they hadn’t already tried. She could handle these domestic glitches, she told herself with a smug air of satisfaction, as long as there were enough restaurants and fast food joints to establish a rotation that didn’t repeat itself so often anyone noticed. Even Martha Stewart would have been proud of her ingenuity.
Chicken. Fried chicken would be perfect. She grabbed her cell, dialed the number of a small mom-and-pop restaurant just down the street from Pedmo’s office, and swung the car onto the highway leading to Scranton.
A half hour later, Mom and Pop were easily on her list of lifelong friends when she picked up the tantalizing, neatly packaged, white Styrofoam containers, complete with plastic plates and silverware and dinner napkins. Grinning, she headed for the car, resisting the urge to belt out O Sole Mio, a tribute to the sun, as she stashed the food away on the floor of the passenger seat. While she was in the area, she had hoped to make a quick stop at Pedmo’s office. It was no secret Twila Pedmo was a workaholic, often working long after the finish of an eight-hour workday and many times on weekends. Sundays were no exception.
Since Elise had talked with the elderly woman on Saturday, a nagging thought kept haunting her. If there were anyone who knew the true identity of Mike Fisher’s father, Twila Pedmo would be the most logical choice. Even if she didn’t know, she’d be the most knowledgeable person who might suggest some leads. Elise would also ask Twila Pedmo what she knew about Mary Jo and Ted Meyer. Twila and Mary Jo’s mother still played in the same bridge club. From what she had witnessed, Mary Jo’s marriage was hardly a loving, warm one. She had the feeling Ted Meyer, like his father, was a pompous, verbally abusive cop, father, and husband.
With a million thoughts circling relentlessly in her mind, Elise put the car in gear and drove up the street. However, it was Jack Morrison’s shiny white Mercedes parked in the lot instead of Twila Pedmo’s. Frowning, Elise hesitated, torn by indecision, and circled the block. When she arrived back at the lot, she pulled her car into a parking space in the farthest corner, away from any window view. It would be best, she finally convinced herself, to confront Jack Morrison and find out the pathetic excuse he had for abandoning her the other night.
Angry raised voices assaulted her the minute she stepped into the main lobby, even before she rounded the corner to the reception area leading to a maze of back offices. She stopped just outside the hallway and peered down the corridor. Ted Meyer was inside Jack Morrison’s office, the door partially ajar, and from the sound of his disgruntled voice, a very unhappy Ted Meyer.
“I’m warning you, Jack,” Ted Meyer grumbled. “One more stunt like last night and you’ll be finished. Driving under the influence is a serious offense, especially with your track record. You were lucky you hauled your backside out when you did. You were barely one step ahead of the state police.”
“One step is all I needed.”
“Get your head screwed on, Jack. You sound like a goddamn kid. Grow up, you’re an adult now.”
“What’s the matter, Ted? You afraid I’ll take a vacation behind bars, and you won’t get your money?” Jack Morrison’s voice was becoming as heated as Meyer’s.
“Yeah, maybe I am. Mary Jo has been badgering me about the land we planned to buy for a camp. I can’t stall her much longer.”
“I’ll get the money. Just give me a few more days.”
“I’m giving you until next Friday.”
Jack Morrison’s voice rose an octave. “You threatening me? You’re in this as deep as I am, Ted. Just remember that!”
The door to Morrison’s office squeaked on its hinges as if someone had laid a hand on the knob to leave. The sound jolted Elise upright from the wall she had been leaning against. Icy fingers crawled up her spine at the thought of being caught eavesdropping. Slowly she backed out into the entrance hall, turned quickly, and dashed down the steps to her car. Hands shaking, she slid into the driver’s seat, fumbling with the keys before she jammed them in the ignition and started the engine. Her eyes darted nervously toward the building while she backed around the corner, maneuvering the car out into the right lane to head for the cottage. There was no way on earth she could drive through the building’s parking lot and take the chance either Jack or Ted might get a glimpse of her from Jack’s office window above.
Her mind scrambled to make sense of what she had just heard. She wondered what sort of deal Morrison and Meyer had gotten themselves involved with. She wondered why Jack Morrison owed money to Ted Meyer. Was it the same money Mary Jo had referred to when she told her they were saving to buy a cabin and some land?
With more questions than before swirling around in her head, she drove to the cottage. She pulled her car into the gravel drive leading to the back of the cottage and parked. She was an hour early. Lucas had agreed to meet her at five that afternoon.
J.B. was coming out of the side door carrying a load of empty boxes nestled inside each other and met her with a warm grin and a twinkle in his eye.
“You’re moving in Lucas’s things already?” she asked. She hefted the food from the car as a wave of loneliness and disappointment washed over her. Lucas would be moving out of the farmhouse soon, and although she hated to admit it, she discovered she was growing fond of having him around. She enjoyed their daily banter sessions, even when their opinions were diametrically opposed.
“I’m putting the finishing touches on a few things I unpacked from storage and a few personal things he wanted shipped up from Atlanta,” J.B. replied. He set the boxes on the ground beside the doghouse. “Pretty soon this place will be hopping, and once he moves in with the kid, it will be rocking. Did you know Lucas is planning to buy a puppy for Todd? He’s looking at Golden Retrievers. Oh, to be the flea on that puppy’s back when Lucas has to house train it.”
Elise laughed. “Get serious, J.B. He gets along just fine with Bess.”
J.B. chuckled. “Only because Bess has a generous canine personality, and you and Fritz are the ones responsible for feeding her. Lucas is an impatient sort. If he owned a garbage dump, I doubt he could keep fruit flies.”
She laughed. “How long have you known Lucas?”
“Six years now, and I hope fifty more.”
“You’re very loyal.”
“He’s easy to be loyal to. I ran out of money in my last year of college and desperately needed a job. Lucas hired me on. At first, I helped in the restoration garage until he realized I was a computer geek. He dislikes computers with a passion, so he asked me if I’d manage his business ventures and communications. We realized we were compatible opposites. He does the head work, and as his right hand man, I handle the technical end and other things that sometimes frustrate him.”
“An
d who made the decision to follow me to Two Horses?”
J.B. blushed furiously and stared at the ground a moment before raising his eyes level to hers. “Well, to be honest, Nick, Lucas, and I knew the reputation of Two Horses. I’ll admit they do get some good bands banging out some lively country and western tunes.”
“What do you know about Monique?”
J.B. shrugged dismissively. “Monique was a handy diversion before Lucas became grounded. Maybe wiser, too?” He paused a moment, to collect his thoughts. “The woman is an intellectual lightweight. If she had another brain, it would be lonely.” He looked at her with a serious gaze. “Elise, Lucas has no interest in Monique. He adores you, surely you know? He has for years and always will, whether you return the devotion or not.”
Surprised, she stared at him.
J.B. shuffled his feet, rubbed the back of his neck, and glanced away. “Look, I’m out of line here. I shouldn’t be getting involved in Lucas’s private affairs. Forget what I said.” He frowned, then gestured toward the shed. “I put the boxes I thought might contain Todd’s things on top of the others so you can reach them more easily. Eventually, Lucas wants to clear the shed out. A lot of the boxes are filled with junk.”
He moved toward the open trunk of his car. “If I bring in the last box of books Lucas wants stashed in his office, will you stack the contents on the bottom shelf for me? The notebook on top of everything goes in his right hand desk drawer. I really gotta run, Elise. There’s a client who’s coming in to the garage and wants to lease a fleet of SUVs.”
She nodded and watched him remove the last box from his trunk. “Lead on. Take the box into the kitchen, leave it on the counter, and I’ll take it from there.”
As soon as J.B. left, Elise set the take-out dinners on the small kitchen table, hefted the box of books from the counter, and made her way to the small room at the back of the house. It had once been a sewing room and was now converted into an office for Lucas. She paused for a second at the door, feeling uneasy about entering a room that was now his private working area and filled with his personal belongings.
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