by Zoe Carter
Lauren shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably. Carlington’s name must have come up somehow. Maybe as a relative of one of the missing girls. Otherwise why would Tammy have risked going to his house alone?”
“Right,” Jennifer said. “I hate that we’re all missing something here. Something that connects everything. Tammy and Victor. Tammy and Carlington.”
“I agree,” Lauren said. “We’re missing something.”
“Go talk to Dad. Maybe you’ll get lucky and Lewton will be out looking for drivers to ticket.”
Lauren glanced at Trevor. He smiled for the first time since last night.
* * *
Luck wasn’t with Trevor these days, so of course that asshat of a deputy chief was standing at the reception desk when Lauren and Trevor arrived, giving the records clerk, who happened to be Lauren’s eldest sister, Nova, a hard time about some paperwork she hadn’t filled out correctly.
“If you think I won’t speak up about mistakes because you’re the chief’s daughter, ask your sister Lauren about that,” Lewton said to Nova with his usual snort. “Nepotism doesn’t fly with me. No special treatment, Riley.”
“I don’t expect any,” Nova snapped, her blue eyes flashing with anger. “I made a mistake in an Excel row. You pointed it out—in front of everyone. Are we done?”
Lewton eyed Trevor and Lauren, then turned to face them, arms folded across his chest. “Officer Paretti isn’t here right now.”
“We’ll settle for the chief, then,” Trevor said. He stood eye to eye with Lewton, and he could tell the man didn’t like that Trevor had a good inch on him and a hell of a lot more muscle.
“He’s busy,” Lewton said. “He is the chief.”
“I can speak for myself, Lewton,” Tommy Riley called out, stepping out of his office. He looked at Lauren. “What’s going on? Are you feeling all right? Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“I’m fine, Dad. Trevor and I have some information that may be helpful in solving the murder of Tammy Gallagher. We think it might be related to the attack against me last night.”
“And you didn’t share this with me last night because?” her father shouted.
“Because we don’t have any evidence, just a hunch. We do think this suspect is worth looking into based on timing of events—including the attack on me last night.”
The chief shook his head and let out a harsh breath. “Fine. Let’s go into my office. Lewton, if you could join us, since Paretti isn’t here.”
They all headed in. Riley sat behind his desk. Lewton stood against the wall. Lauren and Trevor sat in the chairs on the other side of the chief’s desk, and Lauren recounted their investigation so far, describing the tip that had led them to the Carlington mansion.
“Marcus Carlington called the PD a few months ago because there was a mouse in his kitchen,” Lewton said, snorting. “I don’t think he’s our killer.”
Lauren ignored Lewton and addressed her father. “Tammy was seen biking up the Carlington driveway and along the side of the mansion right around the time she was last seen alive. When we spoke to Marcus Carlington about it, something just seemed off to us.”
Lewton shifted his position as though he was so bored he could barely stand. “Something seemed off to you? Please. I have work to do. Actual police work.” He walked to the door.
“Lewton,” the chief snapped.
Lewton rolled his eyes but stayed put.
“Why would an eighteen-year-old girl from a trailer park, living in the woods, have gone to the Carlington mansion?” Lauren directed to her father. “She wasn’t seen alive afterward. That’s reason enough to investigate the Carlingtons.”
“Miss Riley,” Lewton said. “You of all people should be careful of pointing fingers—especially when there’s not a shred of evidence to back up that suspicion.”
Lauren ignored him. “I have a bad feeling, Dad. From the timeline I’ve been able to put together, the Carlingtons were probably the last people to see Tammy alive. Maris Carlington appears to be medicated and has no recollection of her. Marcus Carlington said he’d never met Tammy either, but he visibly relaxed when we said the witness must have been mistaken. A few hours after leaving the Carlington home, two thugs shot at me.”
Lewton moved closer, sitting on the edge of the chief’s desk. “Well, there have been threats against you and Gallagher for weeks now. That’s nothing new.”
Man, did Trevor despise this asshole.
“But okay,” Lewton added, “let’s talk possible scenarios of why Marcus Carlington, an upstanding member of this community, former mayor and philanthropist, may have seemed relieved that the witness was probably wrong. If I may, Chief Riley.”
Tommy Riley glanced at Trevor, and if Trevor wasn’t mistaken, his expression seemed to say, “I apologize for having this jerk on staff, but let’s hear the guy out.”
“The floor is yours, Chief Deputy Lewton,” Riley said.
“Okay, so here’s what may have happened,” Lewton said. “Tammy went over to the Carlingtons to try to sell them something—such as the stolen bike she rode up on.”
Trevor moved forward, his fists clenching. Lauren put a hand on his arm and he settled back in his chair, staring down Lewton, who wouldn’t even look at him.
“Yeah,” Lewton continued. “Maybe she was even hoping to sell a sob story about herself for a big check. Maris wasn’t home, but Marcus was. She came on to him, hoping to seduce her way into a sugar daddy. Marcus is a married man and turned her down, but didn’t want to admit the whole sordid story when Lauren and Trevor came to talk to him out of respect for her brother. So he was relieved when the brother said the witness must have been mistaken about seeing Tammy on the grounds of the mansion at all.”
Lauren bolted up. “How dare you. Where is your respect?”
Trevor remained seated, trying like hell to hold on to his temper, red-hot rage burning in his gut. Seduce her way into a sugar daddy...
“Maybe Tammy was even blackmailing Carlington,” Lewton continued, standing up and pacing a bit, rubbing his chin as though he had a brain cell’s worth of thought. “Yeah, maybe she told him unless he paid her off, she’d make up some lies about him.” He snorted again.
That was it. Trevor stood up and swung, his fist connecting with Lewton’s jaw.
Trevor was so furious he could barely see the chief jumping up in shock or hear Lauren saying something about how Lewton had provoked Trevor.
Damned bastard. How dare he talk about Tammy like that? How the hell dare he?
Lewton recovered quickly and glared at Trevor. “That was a mistake. You’re under arrest for assault and for assaulting a police officer.”
Worth it.
Chapter Fifteen
“Lauren, calm down, now!” Tommy Riley shouted.
Yeah, no chance of that, Lauren thought. While Trevor sat in a jail cell, she and her father and Lewton were behind closed doors in the chief’s office. They all stood, glaring at one another.
“No, I will not calm down,” Lauren said. “And let me reiterate exactly what is going to happen if Trevor Gallagher is not released and the charges against him dropped.”
“Just who do you think you are?” Lewton growled with his trademark sneer.
Lauren stared at Lewton. “I’ll tell you who I am. I’m a reporter for the Townsend Report. And I will immediately post a full story of what happened in this office, how you provoked Trevor to the point that a law-abiding veteran who’s recently returned from a four-year tour of duty in Afghanistan struck an officer of the law to defend his sister’s name. The very sister whose murder is being ignored by this police department. And then I will call every local news outlet and report what happened so that they can investigate the whole damned thing.”
While her father glared at her, L
ewton’s gaze got narrower and narrower until he looked like he might spit at her. Go ahead, scumbag. I’ll have you arrested.
“Lauren, wait outside,” her father said. “I want to speak to Pat alone.”
“Fine,” she snapped and walked out. She had an urge to kick the wastepaper basket on the side of the reception desk but her anger was much bigger than that.
Nova rushed from behind the desk. “What the hell happened in there? Why is Trevor in a cell?”
“Lewton insulted Trevor’s sister and he swung at him and didn’t miss.”
“Oh hell,” Nova said. “What’s going on in Dad’s office?”
“I threatened a whole bunch of stuff if Lewton doesn’t drop the charges. I don’t know if they’ll care or not, but the extra bad press is not what Thornwood Heights needs right now.”
“Assaulting a police officer is a felony, Lauren,” Nova whispered. “Trevor could be in big trouble. Dad might be able to talk Lewton down to charging him with a misdemeanor, but Lewton’s a serious prick.”
Lauren’s anger mixed with fear. Would Trevor be charged with felony assault? Sent to prison? She rushed out of the building and called her lawyer, a top-notch guy who’d worked tirelessly on her behalf when she was in jail, despite the clear evidence. He’d believed her when no one had—or at least he’d claimed to, since someone had to defend her.
A quick call to him left Lauren pacing in front of the station. Her attorney was on an investigative trip to an island off the coast of Maine, chasing a money trail. He recommended a couple of names, but none of them could come see Trevor until tomorrow. Dammit.
She rushed back inside just as her father’s office door opened. Lewton stormed past her without looking at her, went into his office and shut the door.
“What’s going on?” Lauren asked.
Tom Riley waved her into his office and shut the door. “I tried to talk him down, Lauren. But he’s pissed off as hell. It’s a pride thing. Gallagher hit him. You don’t hit cops.”
“He deserved it!” Lauren hissed.
Her father glared at her. “You want to say that again?”
God, she wanted to scream. This was so damned frustrating. “Fine, Trevor shouldn’t have hit him. But you heard Lewton provoke him.”
Riley let out a breath. “Yes, I did. I heard every goddamned word. I have daughters. Trust me, I didn’t like it.”
Lauren reached over for her father’s hand, and instead of just squeezing it in solidarity, Tom Riley grabbed her into a fierce hug.
“I almost lost you,” he whispered, leaning his head on top of hers. “First Jennifer for twenty years, then you. You almost went away for murder, Lauren. Then last night...”
She pulled back a bit to look at her father, taking both of his hands in hers. “I know, Dad. I don’t want to make you worry. But please let me be who I am. I finally found the work I was meant to do. I wake up in the morning with purpose. I believe in what I’m doing. I’ve changed. This isn’t just a passing fad. This is my life’s work.”
He sighed. “I know, sweetheart.”
“Justice has to prevail. That’s one of my few mottos. And it’s how the system works. How it’s supposed to work.”
Tom Riley let out a harsh breath. “And sometimes it doesn’t.”
“We’re after the same thing, Dad. We’re on the same side.”
“I know we are,” he said.
“So you’ll investigate Marcus Carlington?” she asked. “It’s a lead, Dad.”
“Lauren, you did that for us. There is no evidence that Marcus Carlington had anything to do with Tammy Gallagher’s death. I’ve known Marcus for decades and I don’t see him as a criminal, let alone a killer who’d send thugs to shoot my daughter. I know that anyone can snap under the worst of circumstances. But unless you have something more to tell me other than he relaxed when you were leaving, I have nothing to go on and no reasonable grounds to bring him in for questioning.”
Ugh! She turned away, the frustration building. There was a reason Tammy went to the Carlingtons. A connection between the story Victor was working on and Tammy herself. What the hell was that connection?
“Look, honey, go wait outside, go to Sunnyside Coffee and get yourself a latte. The sight of you will only infuriate Lewton.”
“I’m not leaving, Dad. Not until I know what’s happening with Trevor. To Trevor.”
Tom Riley sent her a “you will do as I say” glare, one she knew all too well.
“Fine,” she said. “I will wait outside on the bench and call every half hour for an update.”
“Trust me. If I have an update, I’ll call you. Now go.”
* * *
Trevor had been in jail once before, a long time ago. When he was seventeen, he and his buddies had climbed the Thornwood Heights water tower with a six-pack of beer in their backpacks, and sat up there talking about what they were going to do with their lives after high school. Trevor was going to become a rancher and have thousands of acres and thoroughbreds. Wyatt was going to become a navy SEAL. Tom wanted to be either a millionaire video game developer or a famed black jack dealer in Vegas. And Ethan wanted to be either CSI or FBI or maybe even CIA. But the night they climbed the tower, there had been a string of robberies in a particular section of town, and a pair of patrol cops had caught them “trespassing on private property” and used it as an excuse to haul them in on suspicion of being the burglars. They’d sat in jail for two hours, waiting to be interrogated, when they heard the chief announce they caught the two perps in the act with a van full of stolen goods and to “let the kids go.”
He hadn’t had contact with Tommy Riley or Lewton that night, but the cops’ disdain for him and his friends, and their assumed guilt from their “looks” and address was something he’d never forgotten. The couple of hours in jail had upped their street cred around town, and Tom had gone down a path he’d never come back from, never making it to Vegas. Trevor had vowed he’d never see the inside of a jail cell again, yet here he was.
He glanced at his watch. He’d been in this stinking cell for almost three hours. He’d tried to keep himself calm, stay put on the padded bench attached to the back of the cell instead of pacing like the caged animal he felt like.
Trevor could hear whispered voices, keys jangling. Over the past three hours, he was pretty sure he’d heard Lauren’s voice quite a few times. He’d definitely heard a slammed door or two.
He had no idea what was going to happen, if he’d be arraigned and sent to county prison or what. If a bail offer wasn’t put on the table in the next hour, he’d call a lawyer. A damned good one.
“Gallagher.” Chief Riley stood on the other side of the bars, unlocking the cell. He opened the gate. “You’re free to go. Chief Deputy Lewton has decided not to press charges, after all.”
Trevor raised an eyebrow. “What? Why not?”
“You know that saying about the gift horse?” Riley asked. “That. Just go collect your belongings.”
“Well, for whatever hand you had in my release, thank you.”
The chief nodded. “Had Lewton not dropped the charges, I would have paid your bail myself.”
Huh. That was a surprise. A good one, for a change. Trevor extended his hand, and Tom Riley shook it. To have an ally in this place felt damned good. It might not get his sister’s case solved, but at least a roadblock had been removed. “Thank you, Chief.”
* * *
After collecting his “personal belongings,” which amounted to his wallet, keys and cell phone, Trevor left the station. Lauren was sitting outside on the bench, her long, wild russet hair up in a loose topknot, big black sunglasses obscuring her beautiful face.
“Hey,” he said.
She gasped and jumped up and flung herself against him. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tig
htly, caught off guard by how good it felt. The hug. The support. That someone cared so much about him. He breathed in the cocoa-butter scent of her shampoo and pulled her even closer against him.
Memories of last night hit him hard. Kissing every inch of her. Making love to her. Feeling so connected for the first time to another person in every conceivable way.
“I’m so sorry about how all this went down,” she said. “All we wanted to do was report what we knew, open up an investigation on Carlington. And once again, it was derailed by something else. And my father says he has no probable cause to bring in Marcus Carlington for questioning.”
He glanced behind them at the police station double doors and led her farther down the path toward the street. Away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers. “Let’s make our case then. I could be on my way to county jail awaiting arraignment, but instead I’m free to see this thing to the bitter end. So let’s do it. Let’s find out why my sister went to the Carlington mansion. That’s what’s going to lead us to the truth.”
“Team Gallagher,” she said as they turned onto Main Street.
He smiled, then had to stop and laugh. “I’m glad to have you on my team, Lauren Riley.”
Her grin lit up her face, and he was struck by how beautiful she was, the tendril of reddish-brown hair blown free in the light breeze, the full pink lips, that sexy nose and those fathomless brown eyes that shared her every emotion. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.
“Let’s go visit the Carlingtons again,” Trevor said. “Increase the pressure just a little and see what blows. We’ll say the witness was sure she saw Tammy go inside the house.”
Lauren narrowed her eyes and nodded, then pulled out her cell phone and rang the Carlington residence. “Hello, Mrs. Carlington. This is Lauren Riley from the Townsend Report. We met yesterday. Yes, yesterday. In your library. I was with Trevor Gallagher.” She rolled her eyes. “Gallagher—he’s the brother of—No, Mrs. Carlington, I’m not trying to sell you a subscription to the Townsend Report. Listen, would it be all right if Mr. Gallagher and I come visit again this afternoon? Yes, at your home. We’re hoping you could provide us with more information about—What time? When your husband would be home would be perfect. Five thirty for drinks in the library sounds lovely. Thank you, Mrs. Carlington.”