“Ms. Kincaid, I appreciate your diligence, but you need to leave this investigation to us. You tampered with evidence by returning to the mine. We may be a small county, but we’re not hicks and we know what we’re doing. You should have told me you worked at a morgue.”
She had left her position three months before, but evidently her official records hadn’t caught up with her status. She didn’t correct him, but said instead, “Then you should believe me. And the fact that someone shot at us-they may have been trying to scare us away so they could destroy that evidence!”
“Which you’ve given them ample time to do since you breached the crime scene.”
“Now you’re calling it a crime scene?” She began to pace again. She hated confrontation, but couldn’t seem to stop her anger from spilling out. “You’re missing the point! Someone shot at us! I don’t know if it’s related to the dead body or the vandalism, but I don’t like being shot at.”
“That wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t go back to the mine,” Weddle snapped.
Lucy clenched her fists, and Sean rose from the couch and put his hand on her arm, halting her movement. Usually she was the one who tried to calm Sean down.
“Deputy,” Sean said, “you’re out of line.”
“No. You and Ms. Kincaid need to stand down. Both the arson and the dead body are police business.” He, too, rose and stared at them, his face flushed with anger. Unjustified, as far as Lucy was concerned. “If I see either of you interfering again, I will arrest you.”
“With all due respect,” Sean said, though there was no respect in his tone, “Tim hired me to stop the vandalism and protect his property. I’m not backing off.”
“You haven’t done a very good job.”
Now it was Sean who looked ready to deck the cop. Lucy took a deep breath and said, “Are you going to collect the evidence, or do you think I should call the FBI?”
Weddle’s face reddened. “It’s our jurisdiction. We’ll decide if we bring in the Feds.” He eyed Sean. “I have no problem with you playing mall cop on the Hendrickson property, but you’d better watch yourself if you leave these grounds, because my department doesn’t want your help or interference.”
Weddle swaggered out, brushing against Sean, as if daring him to fight. Tim looked stunned at the exchange but followed the cop out, and Sean slammed the front door behind them, causing the windows in the small house to rattle.
“He’s the epitome of every reason I hate cops!”
Lucy winced. Sean didn’t mean it literally, but she knew he had issues with law enforcement, many of them justified from his personal experience. And Lucy was no Pollyanna when it came to law enforcement-there were good and bad cops, without a doubt. Her older brother Connor had been forced to quit the police force when he turned against a corrupt cop. Her sister-in-law Kate had been unjustly accused by the FBI of getting her partner killed. But most police officers did the job right and they did it well.
Sean ran both hands through his hair. “I don’t trust that cop. We have no idea who the players are. For all we know, he could be involved with trying to shut the lodge down. He could have killed that woman or shot at us.”
“Quite a conspiracy theory you’ve got going there,” Lucy said.
“You can’t trust him.”
“I don’t.”
“Not all cops wear white hats, Lucy,” he continued as if she hadn’t spoken.
“You think I don’t know that?” Why was Sean so confrontational with her? Because of his deep-seated animosity toward law enforcement? “I know exactly how you feel,” she continued. “You’ve made it perfectly clear. The world isn’t black and white; no one is a saint. The bad cops on the street make me sick, but most cops aren’t like that. They might not bend the rules enough to suit you and you might not like the restrictions they have to work under, but take away the rules and what do you have? Vigilante justice. And we know where that leads.”
“Lucy, I’m-”
She cut him off. “And how are you going to feel about me when I’m wearing a badge?”
She was so angry-at Weddle, at the sniper, but mostly at Sean, because deep down he’d scratched at a doubt she still couldn’t articulate: would she be able to follow the strict rules required of the FBI? When could they be bent? If Spruce Lake’s Sheriff’s Department didn’t do anything about the missing dead woman, could Lucy let it go? Or would she break the law to see true justice done?
“How I feel about you won’t ever change, whether you have a badge or not.” Sean rubbed her arms. “I shouldn’t have to tell you that.”
She swallowed uneasily. “Maybe you don’t realize how hostile you are toward authority.” But her anger, and deep-seated worry about Sean’s attitude, began to fade.
“This is a ridiculous conversation. We agree that Weddle is an asshole cop and is either incompetent or guilty of something. So why are we arguing?”
She hesitated, torn between forcing Sean to address his issues and letting it slide to keep the peace. Sean took that moment to extend the olive branch.
He stepped closer and held her face in his hands. “I wish I’d never agreed to help Tim. We need time together, alone.” He studied her eyes, wanting her support and affirmation.
It felt as if Sean had been in her life for years, but it had been only three months since they’d grown intimate, and they rarely had any time alone together. He knew everything about her past-but what did she really know about Sean’s history? He’d had issues with authority ever since he’d been expelled from Stanford after hacking into his professor’s computer to expose him as a pedophile, but that wasn’t the whole story. There was much about Sean’s past she didn’t know.
Nevertheless, Lucy absolutely trusted Sean’s deep-seated drive to help those in trouble. “You couldn’t turn your back on somebody who needed you,” Lucy said, “and we must do what we can for Tim and Adam.”
“We’re good, right? You and me? That’s my main concern.”
He looked worried. Sean had told her that he needed her more than she needed him, and she didn’t believe it. But for the first time, she saw fear of loss in his eyes.
“Lucy, I’m sorry I overstepped.”
She shook her head. “I overreacted. We agree that Weddle is a problem. Do you really think he could be involved in what’s going on with Tim?”
“I need to call in some help.” He smiled, though the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “You probably thought you’d never hear me say that.”
“You’re right.” She smiled back, grimly.
“I suspect the sniper will try again, when he realizes we’re not leaving, I need Patrick up here to watch our backs.”
“What about the bullet casings?”
“I’ll send those to RCK West. Duke has an interest in this case; he’ll be happy to run them.”
“What about the missing persons reports?”
“Patrick is already working on it; we’re not going to let that go. I promise.”
Lucy nodded. “I’m going to the cabin to take a shower. I still feel dirty from the mine.”
“I’m going to Canton to overnight the casings to Duke.”
“Why Canton? Isn’t that nearly an hour away?”
“I’ll stop by the Sheriff’s Department and follow up on the vandalism report Tim made, check on the arson investigation. Maybe file a report against Weddle. Do you think there’s a crime for being an asshole?”
She tried to conceal her grin. “Sean-” she said in warning.
“I won’t get into trouble, but the only way to find out if Weddle actually reported the vandalism is if I check it out in person. I’ll follow up on the evidence in the mine as well, make sure the sheriff knows it’s down there, find out if Weddle was blowing smoke up my ass about a detective coming in to investigate. You may find this hard to believe, but I can be diplomatic when necessary.”
“True. But there’s a reason Patrick usually handles law enforcement when you’re working
a case.”
“I’ll be fine.” He hugged her, but his mind was elsewhere.
Tim walked in and said, “I don’t know why Deputy Weddle acted that way. I tried to talk to him, but he’s adamant that we’re to stay away from the mine.”
“It’s on your property,” Sean said, taking Lucy’s hand.
“My property surrounds it, but the mine itself is still on a ninety-nine-year lease to the Kelley Mining Company. Though the mine used to be in my grandmother’s family, the estate sold it long ago.”
“We should find out who owns the mine, what they have planned, what it’s worth. It could be they have plans for the area that your resort would hinder.”
Tim looked skeptical. “Certainly nothing’s been going on with the mine since I came back from Boston.”
Lucy shook her head. “Except murder.”
FIFTEEN
I kept quiet after my pet cop told me what had happened at the Kelley Mine. I didn’t know what made me angrier: that Tim Hendrickson’s friend was a private investigator or that someone had tried to kill the two interlopers.
I’d taken over my brother’s office, such as it was. Made a few aesthetic adjustments to suit my taste, rearranged the furniture so no one could sneak up behind me through the door or window. Ian had arrived that morning and watched from the corner. He didn’t like Tyler Weddle any more than I did.
“Who fired the shots?” I asked my cop.
Tyler’s Adam’s apple bobbed unsteadily. “I–I don’t know. You made it clear-”
“Yes, I made it perfectly clear that you all were to stand down. I’m giving the Hendricksons time to do the right thing, and I’m confident they will. The fire was a dumb move, but what do I expect from idiots?”
I didn’t bother waiting for an answer. “It’s Friday. We have two days”-I looked at the clock-“just under fifty-eight hours to make sure the resort project is dead. Now a private investigator is snooping around. You think shooting at him is going to scare him off?”
“I didn’t-”
“And what is this so-called evidence left in the mine?”
“The girlfriend works at a morgue, apparently. She noticed things no one else would have noticed.”
“What things did she fucking notice?”
Tyler shifted his feet. He knew better than to sit without an invitation, and I hadn’t issued him one. “Some hair and, um, some bugs she said were on the body.”
“And were they from the bitch’s body?”
He actually turned green. “Yeah.”
“You didn’t clean up your mess very well, did you?”
“It was Jimmy-”
I put up my hand. I wasn’t going to discuss Jimmy with anyone. He was the thorn in my side. I couldn’t kill him and I couldn’t let him live. Not when everything I’d been working toward for six long years was finally happening in two days. I swear, that bitch was haunting me from her grave. I should have cut her up and fed her to the pigs like they did in the good old days. I might just do that to Jimmy. And Tyler. Hell, I should fucking buy stock in a hog farm!
“You were supposed to make sure the job was done, and you let him go down there alone. That makes it your fault and your responsibility.” I stared him down. He was sweating. That made me as happy as I could be considering the mess in front of me. “What, are you scared of the mine? Of the dark? Ian, look at the big, bad cop who’s scared of the dark.”
Ian grunted, his eyes on Weddle.
“It’s all taken care of, really.” Tyler glanced at Ian, then faced me.
I didn’t like what I was hearing.
“What do you mean?”
“I heard on the scanner this morning that Jimmy’s truck was found in the reservoir.”
I froze. My heart just about stopped. “What?”
“They have to drag the bottom because his body wasn’t in the car, but-”
“Go back. What did you do?”
He backtracked. “It wasn’t me, I just heard about it. Carl said he had to clean up some loose ends, and I assumed-”
Carl Browne.
After we inked the deal Sunday, Carl Browne was a dead man.
I looked Tyler in the eye and pictured him dead, too.
The images calmed me.
“Get rid of any evidence still in that mine today and I won’t punish you,” I lied smoothly.
“I will. I promise. Thank you.”
“Did the girl and her P.I. take anything with them?”
“No.”
“You know that for sure? Like you ‘knew’ Jimmy had dumped the bitch in the Hell Hole?” The Hell Hole was the deepest exploration shaft, drilled in the 1940s during the height of World War II. An accident resulted in three men falling to their deaths-more than 150 feet. My daddy used the Hell Hole whenever he needed to disappear someone. I suspected skeletons were stacking up down there like cordwood.
“They would have told me,” Tyler said. “I threatened to arrest them for obstructing justice.”
I simply didn’t believe that Tyler had any skill in reading people. If he had, he would know he was already dead.
“Good. Take care of the evidence and report to me when it’s done.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Go.”
“Ian,” I said after the fool left. “I’m not happy.”
“I can see why. What do you want me to do?”
“I need you to discreetly search Jimmy Benson’s house. No one can know you were there. Anything you find that even remotely connects back to me or my family, bring to me.”
“Of course.”
I had no need to tell Ian the entire truth. If he found what Jimmy had on me, he would instantly think traitor, and that would suit my purposes, but I didn’t think he’d find anything. I’d already had Jimmy’s place searched after my brother turned on me, and found nothing. But I had to believe the threat-and if Jimmy was dead, the information could be leaked.
My instincts were on fire. Something was wrong. I needed to know everything going on in town, starting with the strangers.
“I want everything on the P.I. Sean Rogan and his bed buddy Lucy Kincaid,” I told Ian. “Start with how they know Tim Hendrickson, and then move into their backgrounds. What kind of cases he works. What the bitch does at the morgue. Where they live, siblings, parents, everything.”
“Not a problem.”
Nothing was a problem for Ian. He was perfect for me. Young, beautiful, strong, smart-and he did everything right the first time I told him. I’ve gone through so many personal assistants I’ve lost count. The longest running was Zachary, who was with me almost two years before I found him screwing a cheap whore. It pained me to kill him. What a waste.
Ian had been with me for seven months, and was amazing in all parts of his job. After my one failed marriage, I’d never again give control to a husband. Killing husbands was a messy business because there were official marriage records and crap like that. A hired, under-the-table assistant was far preferable.
“We’re going to have some fun tonight.”
His blue eyes sparkled. “The cop?”
I grinned. Ian got the same thrills I did.
“May I kiss you?”
My skin tingled. “You may.”
He came around the desk and kissed me. I reached down and touched him between his legs. He was already growing hard.
I pulled away. “Save it. We’ve got a lot of work to do today.” And no way was I wasting time screwing.
Ian walked over to the couch and opened his laptop. “Sean Rogan. Lucy Kincaid. Let’s see what I can find.”
“While you do that, I have people to punish.”
I couldn’t tell from his look if he was concerned about my safety or merely disappointed he couldn’t participate.
“I’ll be fine,” I assured him, “and I promise to let you help with the fun punishments later.”
“You’re so good to me.”
SIXTEEN
Lucy showered until the
hot water turned cold. Her head ached from both lack of sleep and the friction with Sean.
She was drying her hair when her phone rang. It was her brother Patrick, Sean’s partner at RCK.
“Luce, I emailed you a link to the missing persons reports I pulled.”
“I’ll look through them right now.” She put her phone on speaker and quickly gathered her damp hair into a ponytail.
“I used your criteria-Caucasian women between the ages of twenty-five and thirty-five who went missing in the Northeast during the last nine months. I narrowed it down to forty-seven women, blond or light brown hair, between five foot four and five foot eight. Since the files are large, I posted them to my server and you can view or download them from there. I can broaden the search if necessary.”
At Sean’s computer, she logged into her email. “I hope she’s here.”
“I just got off the phone with Sean; he told me what happened. I got a seat on the last flight to Albany tonight, then a commuter plane first thing in the morning. This was supposed to be a vacation for you two.”
“This is the second vacation I’ve had where a dead body has turned up. Maybe I should stay home.”
She was half-joking, but Patrick was serious. “I started the background checks Sean asked for. The Swain family popped immediately. The father died in prison-he got twenty-five-to-life for killing his girlfriend. The oldest brother, Paul Swain, is in prison for manslaughter and drug trafficking. They tried to make a case against his brother Butch, but nothing stuck. Butch was suspected of bribery, extortion, and manufacturing methamphetamines.”
“Do you know if there’s an active investigation?”
“I called around to the usual places, didn’t hear of anything ongoing, but that doesn’t mean squat half the time. The word is when Paul Swain was sent away, his operation dried up. Nine people went to prison. He was the brains, Butch was the brawn.”
“Where’s Butch Swain now?”
“His legal address is in Colton, about twenty miles from Spruce Lake. There’s a younger sister, Roberta, who went to college in Florida, and I can’t find anything on her since then.”
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