CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Christine stretched sleepily and rolled over to face Trevor. The morning sun was just reaching the pillow he had scrunched under his head. She smiled. Their lovemaking the night before was more than she had dreamed of. Even though Trevor was an exceptional lover, she also knew it had a lot to do with the way they felt about each other. It had been a long time since she had been this happy.
***
Trevor’s new phone buzzed.
“I better answer this, it’s Marty,” he said. “Good morning, Chief.”
“You sound chipper today, Trevor. Do you feel up to coming into the station to give a formal statement?” Chief Mallory asked.
“Of course, what time?”
***
Trevor and Christine walked into the dimly lit police department hand in hand. Deputy Johnson came out to greet them and to direct them to a small, windowless room, with walls of dull pale green.
“You can start by telling me everything you remember about the night of the fire,” Johnson said, turning on a voice recorder.
“And you can start by telling me where Chief Mallory is,” Trevor said politely, adding a friendly smile.
“I’m taking your statement,” Johnson reiterated.
“That wasn’t what I agreed to. I’d like to see Martin. Now.”
Johnson’s jaw clenched and twitched. He stood and walked out of the room.
“What was…” Christine started to ask, and Trevor shushed her. He picked up the voice recorder and turned it off.
Trevor glanced at his watch, giving Johnson two minutes to return. After five minutes, he stood, took Christine by the hand, and walked to the lobby. After another five minutes, they quietly left the station.
“What was all that about, Trevor?” Christine asked once they were outside in the gloom of the afternoon. A storm was approaching, and by the chill in the air, it would hit soon.
“Remember that I told you I heard a second voice that night? I’m sure now it was Johnson,” Trevor said. “I didn’t tell Marty about it at first because I wasn’t positive. I am now. I will not put you in any danger and I won’t keep looking over my shoulder either. Marty needs to know that one of his men is dirty and likely a murderer.”
“Murderer? You think Johnson killed Riley?”
“Who else would it be? They were in the robbery together.”
“There you two are,” Chief Mallory said walking up to them. “Why did you leave?”
“Marty, there’s more to my statement than I first told you, and you’re not going to like it. There was a second person with Riley that night, and I’m sure now it was Officer Johnson. I can’t and won’t give a statement to him.” Trevor paused to gather his thoughts. “It might even be possible that Johnson killed Riley.”
The chief scowled. “What makes you think it was Johnson?”
“That night a second voice was familiar but I couldn’t place it, not even after seeing the scout car leave my parking lot. When I heard him today, I knew it was him. Marty, what are we going to do? I won’t jeopardize Christine or myself.”
“I understand and I wouldn’t want you to. There’s nothing more dangerous than a desperate, dirty cop.” The chief emitted a troubled sigh. “Come back in and follow my lead. I have a plan.”
Seated in the same room, Trevor and Christine whispered quietly together about dinner plans. When Johnson came back in, Trevor smiled.
“Sorry about that, Christine wasn’t feeling well and needed some air.”
“No problem.” Johnson picked up the voice recorder and turned it on again. A moment later the chief came in and took a seat.
“Trevor, tell me again what happened, everything you recall, no matter how trivial it may seem to you,” he said.
“A noise, a voice, woke me and I looked at the clock. It read 2:17 and then it went out. The power was gone.” Trevor continued with his original statement until the chief interrupted him.
“You heard a voice? Did you recognize it?” He jotted something down in his notebook.
“Yes, it was Riley, one of my employees.”
“Did you hear anything else?”
“Yes, a second voice.” Although Trevor was looking at Marty, out of the corner of his eye, he could see Johnson tense.
“Did you recognize the second voice at that time?”
“It was familiar but I couldn’t place it,” Trevor answered.
“What happened next?” Marty was leading him down a perfect path.
“I went back to the window and saw a police scout car leave my parking lot.”
“Trevor, think carefully before you answer this: Did you recognize the second voice later, under other circumstances?”
“Yes, I did, Chief, today. The voice belongs to Officer Johnson.” Trevor looked directly at Johnson.
“That’s a lie! I’m not going to sit here and listen to this garbage!” Johnson stood and walked defiantly to the door. When he opened it, another officer was there and waiting.
“Take Officer Johnson into custody, Harry,” Marty said, taking Johnson’s service weapon from him.
***
The storm raged outside, rain lashing at the windows and sending flashes of lightning to illuminate the night. Trevor had built a fire in the seldom used fireplace and he sat with Christine on the loveseat, enjoying the warmth and an after dinner glass of wine.
The doorbell rang.
“Marty! Nasty weather to be out in. Please, come inside,” Trevor opened the door further so his friend could hurry in.
“Can we interest you in a glass of wine, Chief?” Christine asked.
“Well, I am off duty, so sure. It might even help me with the news.”
Trevor and Christine resumed their places on the couch after Marty sat with his glass in hand.
“Poor kid. Johnson couldn’t stop talking once I reminded him I was aware he was on patrol that night.” Marty took a sip before continuing. “I left him locked up while I took another officer over to his house, and we found cases of your stock in his garage.”
“What was his excuse about that?” Christine asked, getting up to put another log on the fire.
Marty took a long drink, nearly draining the glass. “Never got to ask him. By the time we got back to the station, Johnson had hung himself.”
Christine gasped. Trevor was stunned into silence.
“Case closed.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“My car is fixed and ready to be picked up,” Christine announced, hanging up her phone. “Let’s go get it. I really don’t like driving my dad’s car. He’s a very private person and adamant about certain things being only his. His car is one, his bedroom is another, and, um, his clothes are another, so we don’t want to tell him about you wearing some of his things.” Christine looked guilty.
“He wouldn’t want you driving his car if you needed to?”
“Oh, he’d be okay with that. Now that my car is fixed, and he’ll know when I got it back by the deductible charge on his credit card, we should start using mine instead.”
“Which reminds me, we should also pick up my car.”
“I thought it was burned up.”
“That was the store van. I have another vehicle to drive. I keep it parked at that parking structure at Main and Fulton,” Trevor said with a grin, knowing she was so going to love his car.
***
Christine walked around the PT Cruiser, inspecting the work done. The car looked brand new, and they’d even washed it. She got in, turned the ignition on, and immediately shut it off.
“What’s the matter?” Trevor asked.
She ignored him and stormed into the auto-shop office. The owner looked up, concerned.
“My gas tank is on empty,” she said angrily. “When I brought it in, it was full.”
“It sat outside while we waited for parts,” the shop owner said. “Someone must have siphoned the tank, which wouldn’t be a surprise considering the cost and shortage of gas now.
And you did sign a waiver, Miss Tiggs. Your car is not our responsibility when it isn’t inside our building.”
She glared at him. “Wrong answer!” She stormed out again.
Trevor gripped her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. “It’s only gas, Christine. We’ll go out to the Exit 31 store and refill your car.” He hugged her until she calmed down.
“The gas isn’t the point, Trevor, it was that I trusted him,” she said. “I guess I need to follow your example and not trust anyone.” She looked up at him. “Except you.”
***
With a full tank of gas, Christine pulled into her driveway and reached for the garage door opener. It wasn’t on the visor. Trevor pulled up beside her and opened the garage with the unit in John’s car, which he then parked inside.
“Let’s go get my car now,” Trevor said excitedly.
***
“That’s your car?” Christine said, wide eyed, after Trevor pulled the tarp off. She walked around the candy apple red Mustang convertible.
Trevor grinned. “I knew you’d like it.”
“Why don’t you drive it? It’s awesome.” She glided her hand down the shiny fender.
“It would have sent the wrong message to my employees if they saw me in this car all the time,” he replied. “Besides, it’s terrible for deliveries!”
***
Christine pulled her PT Cruiser into the driveway on the side where her father’s SUV was parked and reached again for the automatic door opener that wasn’t there. She frowned and got out of the car to search under the seat.
“What are you looking for?” Trevor asked, parking the Mustang on the empty side of the concrete drive.
“I can’t find my door opener,” she scowled. They searched her entire car to find only an empty water bottle under the passenger seat.
Using her house keys, Trevor opened the person-door on the side of the garage and opened the overhead door. After pulling the Mustang inside, he lowered the door again.
“First the gas and now your door opener. I think you should find a new mechanic, Christine,” he said. “Let’s go back to the shop. Perhaps he removed it to keep it safe.”
***
“Look, I haven’t seen the door opener. I didn’t even know there was one,” the guy behind the desk said defensively. “Maybe whoever took the gas took the remote too.”
“The car was supposed to be kept locked!” Christine said. “I’m filing a complaint.” She stomped out of the office.
“Hey, babe, don’t let this upset you. We’ll get another one and reprogram it,” Trevor said, while he made soothing circles on her back. She leaned her forehead to his chest and sighed.
“Tomorrow is Thanksgiving,” she said, taking a deep breath to steady her anger. “I remember seeing one or two of those frozen tubs of boneless turkey in the freezer items. How does that sound for dinner?”
Trevor smiled down at her. “It sounds awesome. What do you think of inviting Marty and his wife to join us? Marty has done a lot for us lately.”
***
The two men stood by the fire in the living room, while Christine and Marion set the table for Thanksgiving dinner.
“Marty, can you get me a copy of the police report and the fire department arson report on my store fire? I need to file a claim with the insurance company,” Trevor said. “They aren’t being very cooperative, saying they are overwhelmed with claims. I guess that might be true if everyone from the quake zone used the same insurance company, which I doubt. I think they’re just giving me the runaround.”
“Of course, Trevor,” Marty replied. “And thank you again for inviting us for dinner; otherwise it might be soup again.” Chief Mallory laughed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The morning of December 9, another quake struck the New Madrid fault. Centered at the same location as the last, the 8.1 quake was devastating. The portion of the tectonic plate that was lifted and created the new lake in Missouri was ripped in half, sending an avalanche of water down the now dry Mississippi River. A wall of water nearly fifty-feet high traveled at an incredible speed and washed away everything in its path. This time there were few deaths, considering, although the exposed and vulnerable bridges were completely swept away.
***
A low rumbled sloshed the coffee in Christine’s cup.
“Trevor!”
“Yeah, I felt it too,” he said, drying his hair from his morning shower. “Another quake perhaps?”
“It felt like it.” She was breathing hard to the point of hyperventilating. “Of course the last one I felt I was right on top of it.”
“If it was another one at the New Madrid, we’re too far away for it to affect us, so let’s not worry,” Trevor comforted her. “And I doubt the destruction could get any worse from what we saw on the news last night.”
“You’re right. I’m overreacting.” She poured some coffee into his cup and sat back down.
“How are our supplies holding up?” he asked. They had been together for only a few weeks, yet had slid comfortably into a domestic routine.
“It looks like we’ve barely touched them. Of course it helped getting back all that the chief found at Johnson’s house,” she answered. “The freezers are showing the most use, which I think is good. If we lost power, we would lose much of that.”
Trevor was delighted Christine was finally starting to think outside the box.
“I’m starting to feel too cooped up,” Christine said after a moment.
They set out for a fun day of wandering, walking the streets for hours, holding hands, stopping occasionally to look at a window display. The town was taking on the festive air of Christmas. Lampposts were wrapped in greenery and tinsel, and what stores were still open shone brightly with colored lights. The weather was holding at a mild sixty-five degrees. Above average, though still below the record high.
“I’m hungry,” Trevor said, “let’s stop for lunch.” Not many places were open with the shipping shortage in effect. They were near a small café that was still in business and served homemade soup and croissant sandwiches. Opening the door triggered a sound machine that played Deck the Halls.
“Today’s special is vegetable soup and egg salad on whole wheat bread,” the waitress informed them.
“Is there a menu?” Christine asked.
“Sorry, the special is the only thing we’re serving now. The bakery has stopped sending the croissants we usually use, so we’re now baking our own bread. Today, that’s whole wheat. The good news is we’re getting a regular delivery of eggs from a local farmer. We have egg salad a lot.” She shrugged her thin shoulders.
“Good thing I like egg salad.” Christine smiled at her. Being a waitress right now had to be a really tough job. At least she had one though; many people were out of work now and suffering.
They finished their lunch and Trevor paid the bill, leaving a large tip. They sat for a while longer, sipping their tea and talking.
***
After lunch, they continued their casual stroll around town, and as they rounded the next corner near the local school, they saw a mass of people in a haphazard line. Chief Mallory was walking the line talking to people.
“Chief!” Trevor called out to his friend. “What’ going on here?”
“We just got a couple of busloads of refugees from west of here. Did you feel the quake this morning? Fortunately, these lucky folks were already on their way. I’m not sure what we’re going to do with all of them but for now they’ll be housed in the school.”
Christine heard a dog bark and scanned the crowd to find the source. “Holly?” She let go of Trevor’s hand and headed to the mass of people. She stopped near the golden retriever who was wagging her tail furiously. That familiar red leash was being held by a stranger. “Excuse me, where is Holly’s owner?” she asked.
“He just needed to use the nearest tree,” the young man answered, looking Christine up and down. “How do you know Holly?” Before she cou
ld answer, Henry Palazzola came back to his spot.
“Christine! How good to see you!” The old doctor wrapped his arms around her.
“Doc, I’m so happy to see you, too! And Holly,” she reached down and gave the dog another pat on the head.
“Are you here waiting for shelter placement too?” Henry asked.
“No, I live in this town.” She looked behind the old veterinarian. “Where are Sadie and Michael? And why do you have Katie’s dog?”
“It’s a long story, my dear, and a sad one.” He inched forward in line.
“Find someone you know?” Trevor came up behind her and possessively slid his arm around her waist.
“Trevor, this is Dr. Henry Palazzola, and Holly. They were with me during the first quake.”
“It’s just Henry now, remember? You have a remarkable young lady here, Trevor,” Henry said.
“Yes, I know.” Trevor gave Christine a gentle squeeze.
“Do you have a place to stay, Henry?” Christine asked.
“I’m lucky to have gotten a seat on the bus, dear. They said we would all be put up in the school until better arrangements could be made.”
“I’ll take that as a no. You’re coming home with us,” she stated, taking the leash from Henry. She looked at Trevor for support, and smiled when he agreed.
***
The Journal (Book 5): Fault Line Page 9