by T. L. Haddix
“Beth,” Annie scolded. “That was mean.”
“He’s a big boy. If he can dish it out, he can take it. Well?”
A muscle ticking in his jaw, he responded. “We have a person of interest. Stacy, I’ll wait for you in the car.” He went to leave the room, but had to move past Beth to get to the door. When she didn’t move, he growled. “Do you mind?”
With a flourish, she stepped aside and let him pass. As the storm door banged closed behind him, she let out a weary breath, all her bravado gone.
“If you’re finished with your pissing contest, I’m going to go check on Lauren,” Annie said. “And for God’s sake, figure this thing out before the two of you kill each other.” She headed down the hall to the bathroom.
Beth’s cheeks flushed as she walked Stacy to the front door. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. He just…”
The detective blew out a breath. “I know. The two of you—Annie’s right. You can’t go on this way.”
“We used to be friends, you know. Lately? I think he hates the very sight of me.”
Stacy’s smile wasn’t unsympathetic. “Let Lauren know that she can call either of us if she has questions, okay?”
Beth closed the door with a groan. “God, why can’t we figure this out?” Hearing Lauren and Annie coming back down the hall, she straightened and turned. Figuring Ethan out would have to wait; right now, Lauren needed her friends.
Chapter Thirty-One
Lauren was devastated. She’d known for a long time that when she found Margie, her cousin might be dead, but she’d never expected things to turn out this way. Seated on the couch between Beth and Annie, all she could think about were the times she’d spoken with Charity. She searched her memory for any clue, any nuance that should have tipped her off.
“Lauren, honey, we should probably call your parents.” Annie pushed her hair back off her face. “Don’t you think?”
She shook her head. “No. They’re at the movies with Ava. I don’t want to disturb them. Besides, I—I’d like to be alone for a little while.”
Beth shot that idea down. “I’m sorry, but we’re not leaving you. Not right now.”
Closing her eyes, Lauren rested her head in her hands, elbows braced on her knees. “Beth, please.”
“No, she’s right,” Annie said. “But what if we called someone else to come over?”
Beth snorted. “Like who? If she doesn’t want us here, she won’t want anyone else. Unless… Do you want us to call Charlie?”
The idea was tempting. Very tempting. Beyond that, it felt right. “No. But I will.” She stood up and moved to the phone. “Do you think I should?”
Annie’s smile was wistful and a little bit sad. “Do you want to?” Lauren nodded.
“Then, call him,” Beth told her with a soft smile of her own. “I’m dying of curiosity to meet this man who has you all in a dither.”
Lauren laughed, a tiny chuckle that surprised her. “What would I do without you two?”
“You’ll never have to find out.”
~ * * * ~
When the phone rang and Charlie saw Lauren’s number, he frowned. He knew she had plans with friends, and her parents were with Ava.
“Hello?”
On the other end of the line, she cleared her throat. “Hey. It’s me. Um… are you busy?”
“Just doing some paperwork. Why? What’s wrong?”
She was quiet for so long, he thought she’d hung up. Then she spoke. “Could you come over? I, um, I need you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ask.”
He knew with certainty that something was very wrong. “I’ll be right there.”
“You don’t have to. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“Lauren. Don’t be silly. I’m on my way right now. I’ll be there in three minutes.” Within seconds, he was out the door.
He pulled up into Lauren’s driveway and parked behind a red SUV. Glancing at the vehicle, he hurried to the front porch and rang the doorbell. To his surprise, Annie answered.
“Hey, come on in. Lauren’s upstairs, washing up.”
“What’s going on?”
A pretty blonde came into the front hall. Holding out her hand, she introduced herself. “Beth Hudson.”
He took her hand. “Charlie Clark. Well?”
Annie gestured for him to go back onto the porch. Beth followed them. Her voice low, Annie explained. “She just found out that her cousin Margie is dead. And that Margie was living here in Leroy as Charity Vaughn.”
Charlie was stunned. “What? How?” They told him what they’d learned. When they finished, he just stared from Annie to Beth and back again. “Unbelievable. Has she called her parents?”
Beth shook her head. “She doesn’t want to bother them right now, not while they’re with Ava. She wanted you.”
Those words sent a sharp pang through his chest, and he reached up to rub it away. “Well, I’m here. What can I do?”
She patted him on the arm. “Just be here. I’m going to go check on her, let her know you’ve arrived.” She went back inside, leaving Charlie and Annie standing on the porch. An awkward silence enveloped them.
When Charlie’s feelings for Lauren started to deepen, he had realized he’d have to talk with Annie about their father, and about their relationship to each other. He’d just hoped to be better prepared, and certainly hadn’t expected the discussion to take place under these circumstances. Taking a deep breath, he plunged in.
“Annie, you and I have some issues we’re going to have to work on. It’s obvious that you’re close friends with Lauren. I think it’s just as obvious that I’m interested in her.” He stopped, unsure of how to continue.
“It is obvious, and I’m glad,” she told him.
“Lauren has way too much stress in her life right now for us to add to her troubles by not being able to get along like adults.” He cleared his throat and looked away from her. “This isn’t easy for me to say. I’ve resented you for a long time, for what you represent. Right or wrong, it’s how I felt. I don’t expect that to change overnight. But I think, for Lauren’s sake, I have to try to move past that, or at least put it aside until you and I can deal with it.” He returned his gaze to her face. “You understand?”
“I do. I agree, we have to move past our, well, our past. I think you’re a good guy, Charlie, and what happened between our parents all those years ago? It’s not your fault any more than it’s mine, but we’re the ones who’ve been hurt the most by it. We shouldn’t blame each other, but I think we do to some degree. I have my own scars, and I know you have yours.” He started to speak but she held up her hand.
“Right now, that’s neither here nor there. I’m not prepared to debate it, and I doubt you are. Not right now, at any rate. It is very clear that we both care about Lauren, about her happiness, and I’ll suck it up and be an adult until we can hash this out. Who knows, once we set aside the bitterness, we may end up liking each other,” she said with a sardonic smile.
He gave her a small smile in return. “Stranger things have happened.”
~ * * * ~
Lauren came back downstairs to find Annie and Beth preparing to leave. She felt a little guilty about that, but she didn’t ask them to stay. Instead, she urged them to carry on with their plans for the evening. “I feel bad enough about messing things up. At least go out and enjoy yourselves for me.”
Beth hugged her. “Don’t worry about us. We’re fine. You just take care of you.”
With a smile, Annie concurred. “There will be plenty other nights the three of us can hang out. Call us if you need anything?”
“I will.” She followed them to the front door. “Thanks for understanding.”
“Nothing to understand. But your cutie is going to have to move his truck,” Beth teased. “He’s parked behind me.”
Charlie, his cheeks pink, saluted her as he went to the driveway, and Beth smiled. “I like him.”
“You don’t even know him,”
Annie chastised.
“Nope. But he makes Lauren happy, so I like him.”
Lauren wanted to deny the words, but she couldn’t. “Try to not get into too much trouble, you two.” She waved as her friends drove away, and Charlie pulled his truck back in. Without speaking, Lauren went into the house, her anxiety rising while she waited for him to join her. It was all she could do to wait for him to get inside before she threw herself into his arms with a sobbing gasp of pain.
He managed to get the front door shut, then sank down in front of it, Lauren cradled in his arms. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here. I’m so sorry.”
“She’s gone. Oh, God, she’s really gone. What am I going to do?”
He smoothed her hair back, getting the wet strands off her cheeks as she cried. “You’re just going to take it one step at a time. Go ahead and cry. I’m here.”
As he held her and gently stroked her hair, Lauren let herself grieve. She didn’t worry about controlling her reaction, or about pretending something didn’t bother her. For the first time in years, she let someone else be the strong one.
Chapter Thirty-Two
As soon as they got back in the car, Stacy called Wyatt. As Ethan drove, she told the sheriff what Lauren had said.
“We’ve got a positive ID of Troy Vernon as the second man from the video.”
“Good. Jefferson County picked him up an hour ago. They’re bringing him here. They should be arriving any minute, so the two of you need to haul ass back here. How’d Lauren take the news?”
“Not well. She’s pretty torn up. We left her with friends.”
Wyatt tsked. “That’s understandable. How far out are you?”
“About three minutes.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
Hanging up, she told Ethan what the sheriff had said. “How do you think we should handle the questioning?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Given what I know about this guy, I’m thinking he’s not keen on women who stand up for themselves or have brains, so I’d like to see what happens if we send you in. He might get flustered—not know how to handle a woman who isn’t subservient to him.”
Stacy laughed. “Gee, thanks, I think.”
Ethan pulled into the department’s parking lot. He grinned at her. “What? It’s true. You look like some delicate little thing, but you could have him flat on the ground in three seconds. He won’t be expecting that. Use it to your advantage.”
She rolled her eyes, but conceded his point. “Yeah, but I get so sick of people thinking just because I’m short, I’m a ‘delicate little thing,’ as you put it.”
“We all have a cross to bear. Being short is yours.”
Wyatt met them at the entrance. “He’s here, and he’s not happy. I’ve got a DNA warrant coming in, as well as a search warrant for his house and car. With the evidence from the video, we shouldn’t have any trouble holding him for murder.”
“Where’d they find him?” Ethan asked.
“At the hospital with his parents and wife. Apparently, the father has taken a turn for the worse. We got lucky—Jefferson County dispatch remembered the ambulance call, and had their people meet him at the hospital. He was pissed to see them, but came quietly. I guess he didn’t want to cause a scene there.”
“And the house?” Stacy asked.
“Everyone’s at the hospital right now. I’m sending Ethan with the search warrant as soon as it comes through. You and I will handle his questioning.”
They went into the darkened observation room. Troy sat next door in the interrogation room, and it was obvious from the way his leg bobbed up and down that he was nervous. He kept his gaze on the table in front of him.
“Oh, he knows he’s screwed,” Ethan said. “I can hardly wait to see how he reacts to being questioned. I think I’ll stick around for a few minutes, if that’s okay, just to watch.”
“Sure, that’s fine.” Wyatt turned as a deputy knocked on the door.
“Sheriff, those warrants you wanted just came in.”
“Thanks, Wes. I’ll be right there.” He studied Troy, then asked Ethan and Stacy, “How do you think he’d respond to the ‘good ol’ boy’ routine?”
“Depends on how he sees his father and authority figures in general, I’d say,” Stacy observed. “Given that he still lives at home with Mommy and Daddy? Probably pretty well. Ethan thinks he won’t know what to do with me, though.”
Wyatt looked at her with a rueful smile. “He’s probably right. Sorry. But we can use that.” He glanced down at the dress shirt, tie and jacket he wore with his black jeans. Tugging at the tie, he started to shrug out of the jacket. “These have to go, though.” He tossed jacket and tie on a nearby table. “Let’s go. Stacy, go on in and start getting the video equipment ready. I’ll grab the warrants.”
When he left the room, Stacy turned to Ethan. “The two of you are enjoying this.”
He wiggled his hand in a ‘more or less’ motion. “Yes and no. I hate the crime that created the need for it, but knowing what I know about this guy? Well, getting to see him squirm is definitely one of the highlights of my day.”
She had to agree. “I know exactly what you mean.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Walking into the interview room, Wyatt closed the door behind him. Stacy was still readying the video equipment, and the sheriff sat down across the table from Troy. He slapped the folder containing the warrants down on the table. The younger man jumped at the sound, but didn’t look up.
Placing bottles of water on the table, Wyatt opened his own and took a drink. He studied Troy the whole time, taking in the man’s hunched posture, the way his eyes kept moving around the room.
“You thirsty?”
Troy shook his head, eyeing both Wyatt and the bottle with distrust.
Wyatt shrugged. “Suit yourself. Camera on?” he asked as Stacy sat down beside him.
“Yes. We’re recording.”
Troy appeared even more anxious at her announcement. He raised his handcuffed hands to run one through his hair, and Wyatt saw the bandage on the man’s left hand.
“Did you hurt yourself, Troy?”
Looking at the bandage like he’d never seen it before, he nodded. “Dropped a glass in the sink.”
“Hope you got it treated, son. That kind of cut can get infected.”
Troy looked back down at the table and didn’t respond.
With a sigh, Wyatt pulled the warrants out. “Do you know why we brought you in today?”
He didn’t raise his gaze. “The other cops said something about some business being trashed or something. That’s all I know.”
“Well, that’s part of it. But we also need to talk about a murder that took place a few days ago. Detective Kirchner here is going to read your rights to you before we talk about all that, though.”
She covered his Miranda rights, and when she had finished, Wyatt stepped in again. “Where were you last Thursday evening and night?”
His eyes full of distrust, Troy looked from Wyatt to Stacy and back. “Am I under arrest?”
“That depends on whether or not you have an alibi for Thursday night.”
A little of the tension in the younger man’s shoulders eased. “I was home with my wife. She’ll verify that.”
Wyatt coughed. “Anyone else who can say the same?”
Troy’s lip curled into a sneer. “Why, my wife’s word ain’t good enough for you?”
“Well, not really. No. So is there?”
With a put-upon sigh, Troy slumped back in his chair. “I guess my mother can.”
“Okay. Obviously, we can’t ask her about that right now, given that she’s holding a death vigil for your father.” Wyatt spoke with deliberate bluntness, and watched his words have the desired impact. The reminder of his father’s impending death caused Troy’s hands to clench on the table. When he saw Wyatt’s gaze drop to them, he moved them off the table.
“That upset you for some reason,
Troy?”
“What do you think? I should be with my family, not here in this shitty room with you.”
“Now, son, there’s no need to get crude. And I promise you, if you can give me the answers I need, I’ll let you go back to your family. But if you can’t convince me that you didn’t have anything to do with these crimes, I’ll charge you with them and your family’s going to be alone.”
Wyatt could practically see Troy’s mind racing as he considered his options. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you—I was home with my wife.”
Wyatt nodded and moved on to the murder. Pulling out the flier that showed Troy in Charity Vaughn’s bedroom, he held it in his lap and asked the man about that night. “What about Monday night? Do you have an alibi for then?”
Troy sat back, obviously trying to look nonchalant as he answered. “Sure do. Same thing—I’m a family man, cop. My wife will be glad to tell you that.” He ran his eyes over Stacy with a look that made Wyatt’s hair stand up. “Yeah, she’ll be glad to tell you about Monday night. I had her screaming for hours, and it wasn’t with pain.”
Playing his trump card, Wyatt slid the flier across the table. “Then how do you explain this? This is you, isn’t it? In the apartment of a woman who was found murdered the next day?”
Every bit of color that had been in Troy’s cheeks drained out. The silence stretched in the room, and then he swallowed. He raised his eyes to Wyatt’s, all emotion gone from his expression. “I’d like an attorney.”
Wyatt smiled. He stood and opened the door to admit the deputy stationed outside. “I thought you might say that. Stacy, you know what to do.” As he walked next door to talk to Ethan, he heard her tell Troy he was being charged with his sister’s murder.