Foolish Temptations

by Danielle Stewart

  He expected her to ask him a million questions when they parted, but all she did was smile with relief. As though it had been bottled up in her and the kiss had set it free. “We can figure this out.” She kept a hand on his chest for a long beat. He wasn’t sure if she meant the mystery of Elsie Cavanaugh or the confusion of their relationship. But he knew what she needed to hear. “We can. We will.”

  Chapter 18

  Maribel

  * * *

  Something in the room shifted. Something between her and Aden had as well. It would be easy to blame the kiss, but that wasn’t it. They were sitting on her bed feverishly skimming passages from old journals and acting like their old selves. Ideas passed between them like lightning from the clouds to the ground. They were the familiar dynamic duo working on something together. Ignoring time. Challenging each other to think bigger. When one became discouraged or tired, the other would step in with coffee and a pep talk. This is what she’d been missing most.

  Nothing had really changed. No promises had been made. No apologies accepted. But for the sake of what they were doing, she’d put that reality aside.

  “Here is something.” Aden skimmed the page again. “This girl is two years younger than Elsie. They must have gone to school together. This is four months before Elsie died.

  Timing is everything. Little miss perfect was in the bathroom sick again and I finally pieced it together. She and that dummy are gonna have a kid. It’s morning sickness. I guess everyone will stop saying how amazing she is once they find out she’s a whore. I want to be there the day the whole school gets the news. She’s going to get so fat.

  “I guess teenage girls are the same almost everywhere in the world.” Maribel took the book from him and added the passage to her list of notes.

  “I think we’re starting to get a clearer picture.” Aden lay back on the bed and tucked his hands behind his head. His shirt lifted, exposing his smooth flat stomach and Maribel licked her lips. Thirsty for him but forcing herself to show restraint. Her heart couldn’t survive another rejection from him. Not right now. “Some people adored her but others were jealous. When word got out that this great hope for Gallamare was pregnant by a man like Ian, and unwed, emotions ran the gamut. Outrage, validation of her flaws, even a few people who seemed to be happy for them. But after her death all the entries are somber and almost apologetic. People memorializing her as this angel, a victim.”

  “People always tend to remember things better than they had been after someone dies. It feels wrong to harp on the bad stuff.”

  “But this is downright disingenuous. Even our little pal here is gushing after Elsie is found dead. She’s trashing her here.” Aden scratched his head. “I haven’t read anything from anyone in here who seemed to actually be her friend. Admirer maybe but not close friend.”

  “Well it’s only six people.”

  “But in a town this size you would think it would be more personal. Elsie was a straight A student. She was president of her class. An active member at church. She helped run her family’s food stand. Babysat all the kids in town. It’s like she was a part of everything, but a part of nothing all at once. Everyone knew her, but no one seemed to know much about what made her tick. Why was she doing all this stuff? She must have been burned out.”

  “Ian must have known her. He must have really understood and loved her.”

  “Or they hooked up one time under the bleachers at school. We can’t romanticize their relationship into more than it was. He came from a very poor, dysfunctional family. I mean his mom shot his abusive dad dead in the street.”

  “And the cops never investigated that.” Maribel put a finger to her chin. “Because they didn’t want his mother to get in trouble for something they thought was justice. A perverse version of it.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “The police had the kind of power to look the other way when a man was gunned down in the street. If they wanted to put Ian in jail for this, they would have done whatever was necessary to make that happen. So if they didn’t arrest him, the opposite might be true.”

  “They let it go because they knew he was innocent?”

  “Maybe. We need to get a hold of the police report. If I go in there tomorrow and distract them, you can fish around. The place can’t be big. The records can’t be all that complex.”

  “You want to break into the police department and steal a report?” Aden rolled on his side and touched her knee with his hand. “Where is Rule Follower Maribel? You’re seriously thinking about doing this?”

  “I totally understand if you’re scared.” She sucked in her bottom lip in an attempt to keep from smiling. “This secret agent stuff isn’t for everyone.”

  “Scared?”

  “Don’t forget, Aden, I’ve seen a look of panic in your eyes before. I can recognize it.”

  “Are we ever going to talk about that night again?”

  “Would you know what to say if we did?” She rolled away and stood up. The pressure in the room was building too high for her to breathe.

  “Probably not.”

  “Then make me a deal. When you have something worth saying, something at all that you know will make sense and I’ll want to hear, then we’ll talk about it again.”

  “Deal.”

  “But don’t take too long, Aden. Because there are going to be more Kenans in my life, and one day I’m going to be ready to have that picnic with him or stroll the beach late at night. I don’t know when it’ll be, but I know it will happen.”

  “So do I.” Aden closed his eyes and ran a hand over his head. “Trust me, I know it too.”

  Chapter 19

  This was madness. This woman could apparently convince him to do anything. Including breaking into a police station and stealing old reports.

  “Exactly what kind of distraction are you going to make?” Aden eyed her curiously. “Are you going to take your top off or something?”

  “I want to distract them, not give a bunch of old guys heart attacks.”

  “If they die, they’ll die happy.” Their old playful banter had finally returned, and he was relieved. “Not a bad way to go.”

  “I’m going to talk to them. Ask some questions. I’ll try to give you enough time to go in the back door we saw.”

  “When we were staking out the police station yesterday.” He layered his tone with sarcasm to ensure she could see how crazy all this was.

  “Right.”

  “And you really think they’re going to have their records laying around?”

  She was heading toward the station and sauntering in before he could try one last time to convince her not to. He waited a minute until he could see the two officers thoroughly engaged with her. Of course they would be. It probably wasn’t every day a woman like Maribel walked in.

  Aden drew in a deep breath and walked casually around the back of the building. The door was propped open with a bucket. Easy access for the cops to come out and smoke a butt any chance they got. Not very secure for a police station, but nothing about the town seemed to be standard. He moved slowly into the back room of the station and listened for a moment. The only sounds were the voices coming from the front, one being Maribel’s. He smiled as he heard her launch into her story about a bride and a wedding and security for the high-profile couple.

  His next move was to look for cameras. Commonplace in most precincts back home, but here, not so much. There was only one computer in the corner of the back room. Otherwise it was full of filing cabinets wedged into every available space. It would be impossible to sort through every one in a reasonable amount of time. He needed to figure out how they were sorted. By year? Alphabetically? Severity of crime? The only way to find out was to dive in. He didn’t let his mind wander to what might happen if he was caught. Or worse what would happen if Maribel was.

  The good news was she was still talking. The bad news was as far as he could tell there was no system at all to the files. The cabinets w
ere a mess. Jammed too tightly in and without any discernable order. It would be pure luck if he stumbled across anything to do with . . .

  “Holy hell.” Three drawers into the file cabinet, he saw a thick file labeled Elsie Cavanaugh’s Death. He scooped it up and tucked it under the front of his shirt as footsteps started coming his way.

  “Hey,” a chubby officer with a sweat-stained ball cap barked at him. “What are you doing back here?”

  “Getting pretty disappointed by the beer selection. Isn’t this The Brewhill Pub?” Aden slurred his words and clutched the nearest file cabinet as though he were about to topple over.

  “All right, lush. Time to hit the road. You Americans can’t hold your liquor for shit.”

  Aden tossed his arms up and stumbled toward the door. “Sorry, my bad.” He banged himself against the door frame for effect and stumbled out onto the gravel. “Who put that there?”

  It took all his willpower not to burst into a sprint, but that would give him away. Instead he headed slowly and unsteadily back toward the hotel. One hand clutched to his stomach, holding the file in place. He still couldn’t believe she’d convinced him this was sane or safe or smart. It was the opposite.

  “Did you get it?” she asked as she hustled to catch up to him on Main Street. “They heard you in the back. I tried my best, but they insisted on checking it out.”

  “I got it.” He patted his stomach. “I’m not sure how. There were a dozen filing cabinets in there. Absolutely no rhyme or reason to how things were stored and three drawers in I find it.”

  “Maybe she wants us to know. Maybe she’s helping us.”

  “You’re suggesting divine intervention?” He cocked a brow in her direction but already knew the answer. Of course that’s what she was getting at. Because Maribel believed all sorts of things like serendipity and Karma. She had faith. She had blind optimism.

  “How else can you explain it? What were the statistical odds you’d find that needle in the haystack?”

  “Don’t get your hopes up yet. I didn’t have time to even look at the file. It only had her name on it. That’s all. Let’s get back to my room.”

  Maribel jumped as a voice came from over her shoulder. “Sounds promising.” Kenan stood outside the hotel with a bag of fresh bread in his arms. His timing lately was impeccable or terrible depending on what she wanted him to think of her.

  “It’s not like that,” Maribel insisted quickly. “We’re working.”

  “What would it matter what we’re doing in my room?” Aden instinctively puffed out his chest. “She can go where she wants when she wants.”

  “Of course she can.” Kenan set his jaw tightly as he spoke. “I would hate to see her go somewhere she might get hurt.”

  “You suggesting I’m going to hurt her? Because I’m the last person in the world who would do that. Not to mention I’d annihilate anyone who did.”

  “Okay, pissing match over,” Maribel announced as she planted a hand on each of their chests and tried to separate them.

  “Why don’t you go back to the bar you crawled out of.” Kenan narrowed his eye at him. Had Maribel told Kenan that Aden used to be a bartender and if not for Hugo that was all he had on the horizon?

  “Why don’t you go back to the potato field, asshole? Come on, Maribel, we’re going up to my room.”

  “You don’t have to go with him.”

  She let out a little laugh Aden knew well. It was the precursor to fury. The small warning to an explosive reaction. Like a release valve shooting steam right before a pipe blew clear off the wall. “I don’t need to be ordered around by either of you. I will go where I want when I want. If you have a problem with it, I suggest you look far and wide for all the fucks I don’t give.”

  “I didn’t mean to . . .” Kenan stuttered, shocked by her reaction.

  “It’s work.” Aden said, gesturing with his chin for her to follow. “You know we need to do this.”

  “We do.” She folded her arms across her chest. “But for the record I’m going because I want to. Not because of either of you idiots.”

  “Noted,” Aden said, dipping his head down apologetically. When she marched into the hotel defiantly, Aden hung back for a second. “You got anything else to say?”

  “Make sure if you’re going to work this hard to win, you actually want the trophy in the end.”

  Aden laughed and shook his head. “If she ever heard you refer to her as a trophy she’d kick you in the nuts.”

  “She deserves more than you.”

  “No shit,” Aden agreed as he walked away. “Maribel should have the world. None of us come close.”

  Chapter 20

  Maribel

  * * *

  “That was quite the display down there.” Maribel sat back on the chair in the corner of his hotel room and glared at him. “Did you guys mark your territory right out there in the street?”

  “He started it.” Before she could reply he had his hands in the air to stop her. “Yes, I heard myself. I know I sound like a middle school child. Can we move on to more important things?”

  Aden pulled out the file from under his shirt and threw it on the bed. She caught another glimpse of his solid abs.

  “I agree, let’s put the testosterone-laced antics to rest and actually see what we found.”

  “Stole.”

  “Semantics. If you don’t think about it, you won’t feel as bad.”

  “If that were possible I’d have saved myself a lot of trouble over the last few weeks. It’s not easy to put something bad you did out of your head.”

  “Can we stop with all this subtext please?” She tipped her head back and looked at the ceiling. “You’re confusing the hell out of me. One minute you’re fleeing the scene of my emotional outburst. Then you’re fighting with some stranger about who would be more likely to defend my honor. You keep slipping in all these little comments. Then that kiss? What am I supposed to do with all of that? It’s not fair to me.”

  “You’re right.” Aden dropped his head into his hands and made a primal noise of anger, clearly directed at himself. “I hate playing games. I hate drama. But here I am right in the middle of it, and it’s my own doing.”

  “Then maybe we should open that file and forget all of it.” She held her breath. It was like putting bait on a line. Would he bite? Would he swim right by?

  “At some point I’m going to get this right, Maribel. I’m going to straighten out all my shit.”

  “I hope you don’t mind that I don’t hold my breath, seeing as how I don’t want to die waiting around.” She stood up and swiped the file off the bed. “This file is lighter than I thought it would be for a murder investigation.”

  Aden sat up and leaned in so he could see over her shoulder. But she could tell his eyes were fixed on her lips, her cheek, and her lashes.

  “I guess this is the death certificate?” She turned the paper over, expecting to find more. “There is hardly anything to it and only lists the cause of death as undetermined. It honestly looks a little low tech as far as science goes. The notes in the file say it was an overdose of antidepressants and the pills were prescribed to her when she turned thirteen. She’d have been on them for years before this pregnancy.”

  “What?” He seemed to snap out of it and start reading along finally. He swam right past the bait. “Everyone said she was a star. Put together. Had it all.”

  “Those are usually the girls who are falling apart inside. She was very young to be medicated, so maybe her case was severe. Wouldn’t you think this would lend itself much more to suicide than murder?”

  “The story of Ian poisoning her would be a little more far-fetched than a sad girl who took too many meds to ease the pain. But then why wouldn’t they rule it a suicide?”

  “You said it yourself,” Maribel reminded him. “This is a small Catholic community of God-fearing people. Do you really think they’d want to label a young girl’s death a suicide?”

  Ad
en looked unconvinced. “Enough to accuse Ian of murder?”

  “That’s all it was. An accusation. A story that went around town to make people feel like there was a villain, not just a sad girl who couldn’t handle life anymore. Who couldn’t handle the idea of motherhood. She had this incredibly promising future, and from her perspective she probably felt as though her life was over.”

  “There has to be information about Ian in that file. There is no way a rumor could turn into gospel just like that. I mean Ian left town. That makes him look pretty guilty. You don’t come to her funeral? You don’t pay your respects?”

  “Maybe he was scared. If the whole town was going to spin the story they wanted, perhaps he knew he’d be accused.” She riffled through a few more papers. “Because he was accused. This stack right here is full of statements from people who were putting a hand to God and swearing they knew he did it. It looks like the police interviewed the whole town.”

  “And they pursued him?” Aden picked up another small stack of papers and riffled quickly. “This is their police report? I have grocery lists more organized than this.”

  “You do?”

  “Well not me personally, but you get my point. This is basically only a cobbled together stack of interviews, personal opinions by the officers, and a timeline.” He paced the room as he read.

  “There is something here, Aden. I’m sure of it. We need to take our time and comb through it.” She stood and blocked his path. “We’re going to find the truth.”