Instinctively revolting against the possibility that local hospital administrators could be that inhumane, Ben said, “I can’t imagine.” Except, shit, he read about things like that happening all the time.
Wilcox shrugged hopelessly. “Maybe, but what if the chemo doesn’t work and she needs a bone marrow transplant?” Despair made his voice thin. “What then?”
Ben shook his head, understanding on a level he didn’t want to. Working as a new patrol officer, he’d had to arrest homeless people for shoplifting even though he knew hunger made them desperate. Sometimes, he could manage to justify what he was required to do, but there were occasions when he couldn’t. When children were involved, he helped as much as he could personally afford, quietly and asking not to be credited. But he could never do enough. The problems were too big for a single man on a cop’s income.
This one certainly was.
Now he made himself push ahead, asking how long in advance Jim had planned the heist, how he’d known Nadia had the money.
Maybe a week in advance, he’d started thinking about it, Jim admitted. Not really believing he would do something like that, but imagining what he could do with all that money.
“Pam went over for an hour or so to watch the auction. She came home talking about how much those quilts were selling for.” Alarm flashed across his face. “She doesn’t have any part in this! You wouldn’t—”
Lock up a sick girl’s mother and father? No, he wouldn’t. Even if the evidence came to suggest that Pam had conspired with her husband, Ben would do his best to suppress it. That, he could do.
“Does she know about this?”
Once again, Jim’s face crumpled and he shook his head. He kept his gaze fixed on the table.
“You have to know we never would have suspected you. Why did you change your mind and return the money?”
Voice thick with tears and emotion, the locksmith said, “I felt so bad every time I even looked at it. I had it stashed out in the garage, where Pam wouldn’t find it. I, uh, went to the bank and got the rolls to hold the coins.”
Ben nodded. He had guessed that volunteer cashiers at the auction hadn’t had time to do anything but drop coins into the metal box.
“I’d heard talk, and I read the newspaper article Wednesday. It was all eating at me. Then today, I turned on the news. I saw what happened at Ms. Markovic’s place. The ugly things said.” He raised pain-filled eyes to Ben. “I should have brought it back the minute I realized she was being blamed.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple prominent. “No, I shouldn’t have even thought about taking it. Will you tell her how sorry I am?”
“I will.” Ben squeezed the back of his neck. It was to Wilcox’s credit that, after watching the news, he hadn’t hesitated. He had come straight to the station. “Jim, you knew she was home when you went in to her apartment.”
Wilcox stared uncomprehendingly at him.
“You got lucky that she’d set the money box down in plain sight. You must have expected to have to search. Open cupboards, drawers. She could have put it in her closet.” He paused. “You planned in advance. You must have realized there was a possibility Ms. Markovic would wake up while you were there in her apartment. What did you intend to do if that happened?”
“You think I’d have...?” The chair scraped as the man half stood. “I’d have run away! I wouldn’t hurt anybody!”
“You might not have wanted to. But she could have switched on her bedside lamp and seen you. Recognized you.”
Sinking into his seat, Wilcox just shook his head and kept shaking it. “I would never,” he mumbled. “Never.”
Was he a sucker to believe the guy? Ben asked himself.
He let another pause develop before he asked, “Jim, how did you come to have a key?”
“To the box? I didn’t, but they’re not hard to...” Comprehension dawned. “The building, you mean.”
“Yes.”
“Edith Jefferson asked me to keep one. She didn’t like the idea of having a hideout key. Like she said, where would she put it? Tape it under a Dumpster? She wanted to know there was someone she could call.”
“Her niece had one, too, I understand.”
“Yes, but...Mrs. Jefferson said she didn’t want to get thrown into a nursing home just because she had an absentminded moment. I told her it’s not that easy to get someone committed, and she said she knew that, she just didn’t want that niece of hers rolling her eyes.”
“You ever done anything like that before? I mean, keeping a copy of the key?”
He looked puzzled. “Sure, I have half a dozen on hooks at my shop. I’m careful with ’em. They’re color-coded, not labeled with names or anything like that. They’re all older folks worrying about the same thing.”
“Did you ever think about letting yourself into any of those homes?”
For an instant, Jim looked offended before he sagged. “No. I wouldn’t. They’re...people I know.”
Ben made his voice hard. “And you didn’t know Ms. Markovic.”
Shame stark on his face, he said, “It’s not that. I convinced myself that money was raised for people who had been wiped out, and that my family qualified. And I know that’s no excuse. You don’t have to tell me. I’ve just been so scared. Felt so hopeless.”
“Did you ever use Mrs. Jefferson’s key before?”
“You mean, did she ever lose hers? No.” He almost smiled. “I reminded her once that I had a copy, and she had forgotten.”
“Whoever killed her seems to have had a key, Jim.”
His face froze. “I would never... You can’t think...?” He stiffened, but the starch didn’t last long. Speaking dully, he said, “I guess I can’t blame you.”
Ben sighed. No, he didn’t believe Jim Wilcox had murdered Mrs. Jefferson. This was a man under horrendous stress who had just returned the money he had stolen because he was too honest to use it, and too decent to see an innocent woman blamed for his crime.
And no, he wouldn’t have hurt that same woman so he could make a clean getaway.
Finally, Ben said, “I can’t let this go, Jim.” If Wilcox had brought it back the next day, before the crime became so public... Water under the bridge. “If I don’t lock you up right now, can I trust you not to leave town?”
Appearing bewildered, Wilcox bobbed his head. “I wouldn’t leave Pam and the kids. Except...I guess I’ll have to when—” A sheen in his eyes, he made Ben think of an animal waiting for slaughter.
“I think we can keep you from going to jail,” Ben said gently. “That you brought the money back makes all the difference.” He drew a breath, hating what he had to say. “Jim, you are under arrest.”
* * *
THE SIGHT OF BEN always startled Nadia in a way she didn’t understand. She’d never reacted to a man like this, been so conscious of how he moved, every flex of his muscles, the sharpness of his cheekbones and the brooding depths of his eyes. Her heart took the little jump that she expected, but when he walked into his own kitchen, she saw something on his face that had the beat continuing hard and fast.
“Ben?”
“I have the money,” he said. “It was returned by the man who took it.”
“Returned?” She could hardly comprehend it. “All of it?”
“I haven’t counted yet. He says it’s all there.”
Lucy, too, had turned from the stove to gape at him. He nodded past her. “Something is boiling over.”
“Oh!” Lucy spun back and lifted a pan lid before adjusting the burner heat. “Dinner will be ready in about five minutes. I put the noodles in when I heard your car.”
“Okay.” His gaze hadn’t left Nadia. “Let me go change out of my uniform and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Wait! Who?”
“I’d rathe
r tell you the whole story at once.”
What could she do but nod? He left the kitchen and his footsteps sounded on the stairs, slow, heavy.
Nadia didn’t move, staring at the empty doorway he had gone through. “Did he really say he has the money?”
Lucy hugged her. “He did.”
“I’m stunned.”
“I can hardly wait to see all those people eat humble pie.”
“Some of them won’t, you know. They’ll just...avoid me. Or even insist Ben isn’t telling everything he knows. That I had to be involved.”
“They’ve been awful to you. They deserve some comeuppance.”
Nadia gave herself a shake. “Let me finish making the salad.”
Ben returned just as Lucy dumped the noodles into the strainer. Seeing him in worn jeans that hugged long thigh muscles, a faded blue T-shirt and athletic shoes, Nadia stopped in the middle of the kitchen with the salad bowl in her hands, unable to look away from him.
She told herself not to be an idiot. He had left the room. Now he was back. Only...she liked him even better when he was less official. Although liked might not be quite the right word.
His mouth quirking, he took the bowl out of her hands and carried it to the dining room table himself.
Nadia rolled her eyes at herself and went to the refrigerator for the dressing.
The minute they sat down, Ben began serving himself with noodles and Stroganoff. He reached for the bowl of green beans, but went still.
“It was Jim Wilcox.”
“Jim...” Nadia knew her mouth had fallen open. “The locksmith?”
“Yeah.”
“But...” She floundered. “He was so nice. Except...” It was like building with Lego blocks. Pieces snapped into place. “He brought back the checks and credit card slips, too. And...he told me he’d replaced the locks for Mrs. Jefferson.” Indignation rose. “He kept a key?”
“I think he is nice.” Ben repeated what Wilcox had told him. “He asked me to tell you how sorry he is.”
Her shoulders slumped. “He’s another Leonard Hixson.”
“Yes.”
Ben finished dishing up then began to eat, but obviously kept an eye on her. Lucy urged her to eat, too, and Nadia did, although she didn’t really taste anything that went in her mouth.
She couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around this alternate reality. The thief wasn’t a monster, he was a kind, anxious man with a gravely ill child. Instead of taking lascivious notice of her scantily clad body, he had probably averted his eyes, horrified to have to enter her bedroom.
In fact, she remembered his distress when they discussed the theft, him saying he hoped she hadn’t been hurt or frightened. He had even said he was sorry—which she now realized hadn’t been sympathy; it was an apology.
“How did he know I had the money?” she asked at last.
“He hid in front and saw you come out with the box.”
“I couldn’t have been more obvious if I’d tried, could I?”
“I’m afraid not.” Ben’s expression was sympathetic, but also cautious, as if he half expected her to melt down.
Still stunned, Nadia grappled with the idea of Jim Wilcox violating his deepest values to steal the money, but unable in the end to use any of it. And confessing to the police chief, rather than thinking of a way to return the money anonymously.
“You can’t arrest him” was what came out of her mouth.
“I already did.” Deep furrows carved Ben’s forehead. “He committed a crime. Whatever his motivations, what he did was wrong. He left you hanging out to dry.”
Lucy stirred beside her, making Nadia aware how quiet she’d been.
“Don’t I have the right to choose not to press charges?” she asked.
“Not for something like this.” There was no give in Ben’s voice. “Sorry.”
“But—”
“The money he took wasn’t yours. He stole from a lot of people. Including the folks the money was intended for.”
“Like Leonard Hixson,” she said slowly.
“Exactly.”
“He’ll go to prison.”
Ben shook his head. “I doubt it, considering he returned what he took. I’ll push for him to get community service, some supervision. He’s not going to be a repeat offender.”
Nadia wanted to feel relief, but Ben’s expression didn’t let her.
“No matter how easy the judge is on him, Jim likely will lose his livelihood. A man convicted of stealing? And using a key he kept to a lock he’d installed? He says Mrs. Jefferson asked him to hold on to it, but she’s not here to call him a liar. Who will trust him again?”
Nadia pressed a hand to her chest, trying to quell a deep-down ache. She reminded herself that this was the man responsible for everything rotten that had happened to her since the morning after the auction...but she still felt sorry for him.
“He could get something for it if he sells the business. And...he and his family could move.” Like she had known she would have to do.
Ben couldn’t have read her mind, but he said, “A felony on his record will follow along wherever he goes.”
“You’re making all the arguments I should be!”
“That’s because I don’t like what I had to do.” Anger infused his voice. “But how could I justify not arresting him to other people who did something stupid and impulsive and faced trial because of it?”
Nadia absorbed that. “The hospital wouldn’t really stop treatment, would they?”
He sighed. “I doubt they can, but are they obligated to provide a treatment beyond what they’re already doing? I don’t know. No matter what, Jim’s daughter is old enough to see what taking care of her has done to her family. That will be hard to live with.”
“You couldn’t have claimed the money was found on the police station doorstep?”
“It’s too late, Nadia. I booked him.” He gusted out another sigh. “I thought about it, but two things stopped me. I doubt I’d have gotten away with it. The dispatcher saw him come in carrying something. Other people might have seen him going into the police station or sitting in the waiting room.” The full force of all that intensity was zeroed in on her.
She nodded.
His expression hardened. “And doing that wouldn’t remove the shadow over you, Nadia. In fact, it might convince our local citizenry that you surrendered the money because of their pressure. Can’t you see the Edgertons feeling smug because they got results?”
Of course, he was right, and that would really grate. Nadia sat silent, coming to terms with those consequences. Even so... “I could have moved away. Business has bounced back some, but not enough. I may still have to move.”
“No,” Ben said, implacable.
At the same moment his sister cried, “No! You can’t do that!”
Nadia reached for this new friend’s hand and squeezed. “If...if I’d been given the choice, I’d have done that rather than see his life ruined.”
“Fortunately—” and Ben sounded grim “—the choice wasn’t yours.”
Was she relieved? She couldn’t help it. Ben had a lot to do with that. To move and know she’d likely never see him again? Never find out whether this tension and yearning would take them anywhere important? But she pictured Jim Wilcox’s kind, friendly face, and imagined him sitting beside his daughter’s hospital bed, holding her hand.
“I understand why you had to arrest him, but I wish there was something we could do to help.”
Lucy sat up straighter. “Maybe there is.”
Her brother groaned.
She turned a narrowed-eye look on him. “We’re really excited about our crowd-funding plan. Nadia has been out of the loop because of her hospital stay, but the photos that woman at the H
erald produced are awesome. Colleen has a friend who is designing the appeal. There’s no saying we couldn’t do one for the Wilcoxes, too.”
“Put pictures of his sick kid out there? Talk about how he was driven to steal money to pay for her treatment?”
“No!”
“Ben’s right,” Nadia interjected. “Putting their story out there could be insensitive. Do we label him as the man who can’t take care of his family, and then couldn’t even go through with the crime he committed for them?”
“So we let him crash and burn?” Lucy fired back.
Very aware of Ben watching their exchange, Nadia said, “All I’m saying is, we need to think about this.”
Then they both looked at him. “What will happen next?” Nadia asked hesitantly.
He talked about the next steps and his belief that a plea bargain would prevent a trial and lead to minimal consequences beyond the fact that everyone in the community would know what he had done. “We need that for your sake.”
Nadia’s stomach was tied in knots, but she could only nod. If Ben had tried to cover up Jim Wilcox’s role, he could well have lost his job. He’d said enough about the city council members who didn’t like him to make her feel sure they would have seized the opportunity. And...he was thinking about her. Protecting her. She couldn’t forget his vehement reaction to the suggestion she might still have to sell out and move.
So she met those espresso dark eyes and said, “Thank you. And now I should be getting home.”
His expression darkened. “You could stay.”
“I didn’t bring a change of clothes, or a toothbrush, or... Besides, I bet you don’t have an extra bed, do you?”
“You can have mine. I’ll bunk down on the couch.”
She shook her head. “That’s silly when I have a perfectly good bed of my own not fifteen minutes away. Lucy said you’d drive me.”
He wasn’t happy about it, but he gave in. Lucy declined Nadia’s offer to help clear the table and load the dishwasher, electing to stay behind. Nadia and she hugged, Lucy whispering, “Maybe we can talk to the others about how we can help him,” before she stepped back.
Her Amish Protectors Page 22