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by K. J. Emrick


  The officer who came to the window, finally, was young, and fresh faced, and I’d known him and his family since before he could speak in anything but single syllables. Ben Isling. Good kid. A little on the scrawny side but some guys grow into themselves late, I suppose. Not sure when he went to the police academy but it was nice to see officers staffing this building who could do more than spell the word morality.

  “How’s it going, Dell?” Ben greeted me with a smile that quickly faded away. “Er, guess I shouldn’t ask how things are, right? Here to see the boss?”

  “Yes,” James answered for both of us. “This has everything to do with her, Ben. How ‘bout letting us in?”

  “Oh, sure. Sure,” young Ben said, bobbing his head of deep brown curls up and down and moving swiftly to buzz the electronic lock open on the door to our right. This one led us into the interior office, where metal filing cabinets made up most of one wall and the dispatch radio sat next to some newer computer equipment off to the left. Lakeshore was slowly being dragged into the technology age.

  The rest of the building sounded empty. There wasn’t much to the place. Two jail cells way at the back. An interview room. The Senior Sergeant’s office. A couple of other rooms, too, but that was it. It wouldn’t be surprising if Kevin and Ben here were the only ones around. The other three guys were probably still managing the scene at my Inn. Or issuing parking tickets.

  “You’re gonna need to wait for the boss to come out of the interview,” Ben told us. “He just started.”

  I chewed on my lower lip. I really wanted to be in there but I doubted that would be a good idea. Kevin was pushing it as it was, being the son of the victim and not only making the arrest but doing the interview. Course, I know how he felt about his dad. Any son would give his right arm to arrest the man who killed his father, feeling like Kevin did.

  “Ben,” I asked him with a sweet smile. “Can we wait in Kevin’s office instead of out here? I just don’t want to see anyone else right now, and, well…”

  I motioned to the service window, looking out on the lobby where anyone might walk in at any moment.

  “Oh. Er, sure Dell. No worries.”

  He led us a short way down the hall to a room on the right. I remembered how spartan the room had looked when it had been Angus Cutter’s office. My Kevin had added a few touches now that he’s taken over. The walls were still hung with fake wood-grain paneling, and the black filing cabinets were the same, too, but Kevin had hung a few inspirational posters—showing police officers helping young kids—alongside the Queen of England’s portrait. That, and he’d changed the ugly leather chair Cutter had favored to one of light beige microfiber.

  Now it looked less like an inquisitor’s chamber and more like a place of open, honest business.

  On this side of the banged up metal desk were two other chairs with padded seats and simple metal loops for arms. James and I thanked Ben when he asked if we wanted coffee, politely declined, and then sat in the chairs to wait.

  “Okay,” James said to me the second the office door closed and we were alone. “What’s this about? I know Dell Powers, and she couldn’t care less what anyone thinks of her, let alone if anyone saw her here. You’re not hiding from the press, ‘cause the press is already here with ya. What’re ya on about?”

  With a sly smile I went around to the other side of the desk and sat in Kevin’s chair. It was set a little high up for me, considering that Kevin’s taller than I’ll ever be. Picking up his landline phone set, with its buttons for multiple incoming lines and intercoms and such, I set it down squarely in front of me. Then I pressed the button at the top of the row.

  Immediately, voices came through the lines to the little speaker on the front of the phone.

  “…think you’re going to get away with this, do you?” we heard Kevin say.

  “I’d say it’s better than even, Senior Sergeant, seeing’s how I had nothing to do with it.” That was from Mick Pullman, in a voice that sounded more resigned than indignant.

  James’s eyes widened. “Cutter had an intercom set up in the interview room? To listen in on his men?”

  “Yes. He thought I didn’t know about it, but I heard Kevin talking about it once.”

  His smile was brilliant. “Dell, you’re the woman for me, and no doubt.”

  I tried to return his smile. I really did.

  Leaning across the table, he took my hand in his. “We, er, haven’t talked about this yet.”

  “About finding my ex-husband’s body?” I tried to joke, although it wasn’t even funny to my ears. “Can we talk about it later, James? I need to hear this.”

  He pressed his lips into a thin line, and then sat back in his chair, with an understanding nod.

  Which is why I loved him.

  It was one of the things that I’d loved about Richard, too.

  Kevin and Mick were still talking.

  “We’ve got ya on this, Mick,” Kevin said. His mother—me—was probably the only one who could hear the strain in his voice. “That was my father. Don’t think I’m gonna let this go.”

  “Wouldn’t expect it,” Mick muttered.

  “Good. Then understand me. When the coroner’s report comes in, I’m positive there’ll be evidence points right to ya. Not worried over that. But that was my father, like I said. I want to know why. That’s the question, now isn’t it? Why’d my father get killed, Mick?”

  There was a long silence, and I found myself leaning in toward the phone’s speaker, anxiously waiting for an answer.

  “Maybe,” Mick finally answered, “it was ‘cause dear old dad was stepping out on yer mom and somebody got wise.”

  The sound that came next was unmistakable for anything other than what it was. Kevin had smacked Mick hard across the face.

  James’s eyes were wide when they found mine. I swallowed back the bile in my throat and reminded myself that guilty people will say anything, anything, to deflect their guilt away. My voice was hoarse when I spoke again. “I woulda done the same thing.”

  In fact, I might have used both hands if I was in Kevin’s place.

  Stepping out on me? Richard would never have done that, any more than James would ever do it now. To think Mick could even suggest…! Richard had always been faithful to me through several long years of marriage. Through me chasing my dream of becoming the owner of an Inn located at the remotest point on the face of the Earth. Through everything we’d been through raising two children. Faithful as a Carlton Football Club Fan through the bad years. He would never run on me.

  Never.

  If that were true, my nagging and traitorous conscience asked, then why had I assumed Richard ran away with some lush college girl when he disappeared on me nearly six years ago?

  Because that’s exactly what I’d thought, until today.

  James must’ve seen the shame on my face, because his eyes softened and he reached out for my hand again. I pulled back from him, wondering at myself. It’s only natural to assume you’ve been abandoned when your husband disappears.

  Right?

  “It’s not your fault,” James told me, correctly reading every thought. “No one can blame ya for the way things went.”

  “He’s right,” my son’s voice said.

  Kevin stood in the doorway to the office, looking from me to the intercom and back again. “James is right, Mom. We all thought the same thing. I’ve hated Dad for so long I don’t know what I’m gonna do with myself now. And Carly… look at how her life took a turn after he went missing.”

  Carly, his little sister. Gone north to take an apartment with a friend and get herself out of this town. She took it hardest of all when Richard was gone. “I’ll call her,” I promised. “Tonight.”

  He nodded, avoiding my eyes as he rubbed at the red marks across his knuckles. I hadn’t heard anything from Mick since the smack. I’m guessing he didn’t have anything to say after that.

  Good.

  “Truth be told,” Kevin sai
d to me, with a quick glance at James, “I’ve already texted Carly. She hasn’t texted back yet.”

  I shrugged. “Guess this’ll take some getting used to. For all of us.”

  James cleared his throat, standing up and reaching a hand out to me behind Kevin’s desk. I’d forgotten where I was sitting. I let James lead me round to the other side again and then Kevin took the chair I’d vacated and placed a single item in front of him, between us.

  The crystal that had been in Richard’s hand. It glinted pink from inside its plastic evidence bag.

  James’s eyes lit up, but I’d already told him about that single piece of evidence. Not that it was much of a clue. It wasn’t anything of mine, and I sure don’t remember Richard owning any jewelry that gaudy. If it was supposed to point us anywhere, I couldn’t see where.

  Kevin had put that down so his hands were free to rummage through his desk. He pulled out a drawer, and then another, closing each again until he found the piece of paper he was looking for tucked away in its proper folder. Setting it on the desk next to the evidence bag he pulled a pen from his pocket and tapped it on the form.

  “Know what this is? It’s a temporary leave request.” His broad chest heaved with a sigh. “Don’t know if I can keep doing this right now. I’m too close to it. Hitting a man under arrest? Even one as deserving as… Glad as I was to take over as senior sergeant here in Lakeshore, I don’t think me staying on this case is going to do anyone any good. Least of all me and you, Mom.”

  “Kevin, I don’t think that’s necessary.” It was James who put into words what we were both thinking. “The whole town’s behind ya. Nobody’d look sideways at Senior Sergeant Kevin Powers investigating his father’s murder.”

  “I appreciate that, James, I really do. But…” His eyes looked down at the intercom button on the phone. “I take it you two heard me in there. That shoulda never happened. What he said about Dad…”

  “I know,” I breathed.

  “She said she would’ve done the same,” James explained with a nod at me. “Thing is Kevin, so would I. Don’t sweat it. That part stays outta the papers.”

  “The whole interview does,” Kevin said, his tone stern.

  “Of course,” James agreed.

  “I’m serious. That wasn’t meant for anyone to hear.”

  “I know.”

  “God above, James, if you print that—”

  “Kevin, I said I get it.”

  The two living men in my life stared at each other.

  Almost at the same time, they gave each other a nod, finding some sort of agreement between them. I watched them use that secret guy code expressions that men used when they were being too tough to speak. Kevin had always liked James. He’d even told me so more than once. But, he was the senior officer here now, and he had to maintain a professional relationship with the press.

  Plus, like he said. This time it was his father lying dead in a morgue.

  It wasn’t until Kevin handed me a tissue from one of his desk drawers that I felt the tears on my cheeks.

  James rubbed my back as I dabbed at my eyes. Things were starting to catch up with me. I could feel it like a vice tightening around my heart. I needed to talk to Richard. I wanted my husband here, with me, like I hadn’t wanted him in months. I put all this behind me when James came in my life. I got past the hurt of being abandoned. Now, I wasn’t a divorcee living without her husband. I was a widow with a new boyfriend, and it was all upside down again.

  I wanted my husband back.

  When James put his arms around me, leaning over from his chair, I buried my head in his shoulder and all the tears I hadn’t cried in six years came out of me all at once.

  He held me. Only that. James kept me in his arms until there was nothing left to cry, and I didn’t need to say a word to him. Forget covert guy speak. There was nothing that compared with the way two people in love communicate.

  Because there was the truth of things, right there. I did love James. Deeply. He loved me, and I loved him. That didn’t mean I still didn’t love Richard. I would carry that love with me forever and a day, but now I had room in my life for more.

  I had room for James in my heart.

  Memories of being held by Richard came to me, but I didn’t feel like I had to compare them to this moment with James. They were as different as they were similar, those two men. That’s just how it was. James would never replace Richard. He didn’t have to.

  James was the man I loved now. The man I always would love.

  I could finally breathe easier. “Thank you,” I whispered to James.

  “No worries,” he told me. “I love ya, too.”

  With that, I sat up again but I kept hold of James hand just the same. “Kevin, did you get anything from Mick? Before we got here?”

  His scowl told me everything before he even spoke. “Not a bloody thing. He admits to putting in the new fireplace. Can’t really deny that part. Even admits to taking too long to finish the job because he was drunk all the time. I figure that’s when he killed Dad and tried to hide him in the space between the walls.”

  “Did hide him,” James pointed out.

  Kevin waved a hand in the air. “Sure.”

  “But he won’t admit it?”

  “No, he won’t. Then to say what he did about Dad?” I watched as Kevin pressed his lips together tightly. “He knew what that would do to me. Set me off, and such. That’s why he said it. He wanted me to stop asking him questions. Figured he’d get me to storm out of the room and the interview would be over. He was right.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up about it,” I said. “Like you told me. It isn’t your fault.”

  “Yours either,” James reminded me. “How ‘bout we get out of here and leave Kevin to do his work?”

  I took another shaky breath as I nodded my head. “That might be best. I thought I wanted to be here. I wanted to look Mick in the eye and force him to tell me what he did. But… no. I just can’t take it. It’s too much. Kevin, are your guys finished at the Inn yet?”

  “They are. The place is all yours again. Last I heard, George had some ideas on how to fix the fireplace up.”

  I had to laugh at that. “George is a good man, and he keeps that Inn of mine up and running, but I doubt he’s any better at laying bricks than Mick was. Or maybe Mick’s a wonder at bricklaying and he was just in too much of a rush to bury Richard to finish the job right.”

  A grimace twisted my mouth up. My husband’s grave, right there in my Inn. Where I lived. Would I ever get over that?

  Probably not. Although nailing Mick to the wall would sure help.

  I squeezed James’s hand again. If I couldn’t get over it, at least I could get past it.

  With James.

  “Well.” I came back to myself with a start and stood up to hide how badly my emotions were bouncing back and forth. What I needed to do was get away from here and put some distance between myself and the mystery of why Mick had killed Richard. At least, for now. Who knew? Maybe some distance would give me perspective.

  Thankfully I had things to keep me occupied.

  I could talk to Richard later, as well. And I would talk to him. I didn’t give a wit if his ghost was having trouble making it through from the other side or not. I’d find some way to talk to him. Even if I had to reach across to wherever he was and drag him through myself.

  I’m Dell Powers. When I put my mind to it, there’s nothing I can’t do.

  Just a little wisp of a smile graced my lips. That’s exactly what Richard used to tell me.

  “Can I drive you somewhere?” James was asking me, as if reading my mind, and I got the impression there was an offer there to just drive out of Lakeshore and find a nice, quiet place to spend a few days, if I wanted.

  That might be a good idea for later, but now I had a ton of things I needed to do. Well, that wasn’t really true. I just needed some breathing space for a little while. I’d come back around to figuring out men like Mick
Pullman later.

  For now, I did have one thing to do.

  “Thanks, James. I could use a lift. I have to see a kid about a dog.”

  Chapter 6

  “It’s just not what I had in mind, is all.”

  James was being a good boyfriend. Which meant he was being annoying. “Did you expect me to go home and curl up in bed with some hot tea and cry over my old wedding albums?”

  He chuckled in spite of himself. This car ride he offered me was taking forever, because he was driving like a snail, and it gave me plenty of time to explain all about Pastor Albright’s missing dog, Arthur Phillip.

  “No, Dell. I never took ya to be the kind of wilting blossom that breaks down and watches Nicholas Sparks movies whenever things get tough. I’m just saying, if I was looking for something to distract from Richard’s death, finding missing dogs’d be far down me list.”

  “Pastor Albright’s a good friend. He came to me with this before we found… um. Before we found Richard.” I sighed. “It’s something I can do. It takes my mind off everything else and it makes me feel useful. You can understand that, right?”

  “Sure,” he said with a nod. “I’m a journalist. My life’s about digging into people’s dirties. I understand just fine. All I’m saying, is we coulda taken a drive down to Port Arthur or gone up the Huon Trail for a couple’a days. Nobody’d think badly about ya needing some time to settle your thoughts.”

  I patted his knee as we pulled up and parked in front of the Thorne house. “You aren’t dating a frightened little girl, James. You’re dating me.”

  “Too right,” he said immediately. “And don’t I know it.”

  I studied him for a moment, and it came to me again how much alike he and my Richard were. Or, would have been, if Richard hadn’t been killed. So strong willed. So caring. And both of them able to recognize the strength I had in me. I’m a strong, capable woman. Richard knew that. It hit me right then how much James believes that, too. He’s always been there to support me on my little… side adventures, let’s call them. No questions. Just him, supporting me.

 

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