Lawman-In-Charge

by Laura Scott

  “Not here,” Luke cautioned, glancing over to the doorway of Doug’s house where Lynette and Doug stood, watching Sam with sympathetic faces. How long before they believed the worst of Sam too? Luke shuddered at the thought. “We need to talk somewhere private.”

  Sam tensed for a moment, as if he were about to argue, but then his shoulders slumped and he gave an abrupt nod. “Can we go home, Dad?”

  The simple request held an unmistakable longing that nearly cut Luke off at the knees. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt like a father.

  He threw his arm around Sam’s shoulders to give him a brief embrace. “Of course we can go home.”

  In the squad car, Luke shot several worried glances over at Sam as he drove. Sam still looked badly shaken, but there was a determined glint in his son’s eyes that hadn’t been there before.

  Luke understood why. The case had turned personal now. For both of them. Sam wanted to avenge his girlfriend’s death and Luke was determined to prove his son’s innocence, no matter what.

  When Luke pulled into his driveway, he was surprised to find Megan there, waiting on the front porch. He couldn’t hide the rush of relief when he saw her.

  “What is she doing here?” Sam asked, his brows pulled together in a frown.

  “I wasn’t expecting her, but she’s probably here on official business. She’s part of this investigation, remember?” Luke said, glancing at his son. “And she’s a CSI expert.” He forced himself to put his son’s needs before his own. Maybe Sam didn’t want to pour his soul out in front of a woman. “If you want me to send her away, I will.”

  There was a slight pause, but then Sam slowly shook his head. “No, you’re right, she is the expert. She can stay. For now.”

  Luke climbed from the squad car and Megan rose to her feet to meet them halfway. “Hi. Uh, Amy’s parents called the station.” She sent a quick glance at Sam, a hint of empathy darkening her gaze. “I came over to lend my support.”

  The unspoken words in her worried face made him realize she knew exactly what had transpired when he’d given Amy’s parents the bad news. The knot in his gut tightened painfully. He shouldn’t be surprised that Amy’s parents were throwing their accusations against Sam around publicly, but he’d hoped to keep that under wraps for a while yet.

  “Let’s go inside,” he suggested.

  The sullen expression was back on Sam’s face as they all trooped into the living room. Luke steeled himself against another wave of sympathy. The father in him longed to give Sam the time and the privacy to grieve.

  But they were running out of time. The best thing he could do for Sam right now was find the real murderer.

  “Tell me the last time you saw Amy,” Luke said as he faced his son. “And Sam, it’s important that you tell us everything. I can’t help you if there are facts I don’t know.”

  Sam sat on the edge of the chair, his elbows braced on his knees, his gaze trained on the carpet. “I’m sure you figured out I met Amy at Rose’s Café. We secretly started seeing each other a couple of months ago.”

  Luke noticed Megan didn’t seem surprised by his son’s revelation. Her reaction gave him a clue about what Amy’s parents were saying.

  “Her parents were pretty strict, Amy had to be home by eleven when she wasn’t working, even on weekends, so we didn’t get together very often. But her best friend, Janice, covered for her a lot so we could see each other.”

  When Sam paused, obviously still mired in grief, Luke gently nudged him. “Were you with her last weekend?”

  “Saturday night,” Sam admitted. “I told you I went to the bonfire, but I was really with Amy, that’s why I was walking home so late. She sneaked out of her house to meet me.”

  “Did you go anywhere in particular?” he pressed, wondering if anyone else had seen Amy and Sam together.

  “No, I didn’t want her to go anywhere alone, not with this psycho guy running loose, so we met in her backyard, down by the lake. Eventually she went back inside and I walked home. But the more I thought about it, the madder I got about the whole thing. We shouldn’t have to sneak around. I was tired of hiding my feelings for her. So I went to see her on Sunday at the café, before she started her shift. We argued, because she refused to tell her parents she liked me and wanted to go out with me.”

  Luke could hear the underlying hint of pain in Sam’s tone. He could only imagine how hard it would be to know that your girlfriend didn’t want her parents to know the truth. But somehow they must have known, otherwise, why would they resent Sam so much? To the point of blaming Sam for their daughter’s murder?

  “Sam, they knew the truth,” Luke said, trying to break the news gently. “They knew Amy was seeing you.”

  “Only because she told them,” Sam said defensively. “Right after that detective finished interviewing me, Amy called. She was crying, because she’d called her parents while on break at the diner and told them about us. They weren’t just a little mad, they went totally crazy. Told her she couldn’t see me anymore. Threatened to make her quit her job at the café and to take her car away.” Sam’s tone, mired in sheer agony, ripped at his heart. “They hated me, more than I realized,” he said in a low tone.

  Luke stared at Sam, trying to think of something to say. He should have given his son the benefit of the doubt, because suddenly the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “That was the reason you and Doug took off to go camping by the abandoned farm, wasn’t it? Not because of the interview with Frank, but because you were upset over how Amy’s parents took the news.”

  Sam scrubbed his hands over his face and nodded. “Maybe I went a little crazy myself. I wanted to leave this stupid town, leave without looking back. But eventually Doug talked me out of it. I realized that even if Amy broke up with me, I didn’t want to leave without ever seeing her again.”

  Luke briefly closed his eyes, knowing God had responded to his prayers. He made a mental note to thank Doug, too. He tried to bring his focus back to the details of the murder investigation. “So what time exactly did you see Amy on Sunday?”

  “She had to work at three-thirty in the afternoon, but she told her parents she had to work at three. We met in the alley behind the café.”

  Where no one would see them. He couldn’t imagine how difficult it must have been for Sam to hide his true feelings. No wonder his son had been so secretive about where he was and what he was doing. “And how long was she scheduled to work?”

  Sam lifted a shoulder helplessly. “Normally she gets off around eleven at night, but depending on how busy the café is, she might have to stay a little longer.”

  “But she was sixteen, right?” When Sam nodded, Luke glanced at Megan. “Federal law prohibits sixteen-year-old kids from working later than twelve-thirty at night, right?”

  “Generally, yes, during the school year, but not during the summer,” Megan murmured. “The hours are unlimited during the summer.”

  That news didn’t help much, although he could easily find out from Josie what time Amy punched out from work. “The real question here is what time Amy got home on Sunday night,” Luke decided. “She must have gone home, because her parents didn’t call her in as missing until today.”

  “Maybe not,” Sam said in a low voice.

  “What do you mean?” Luke demanded.

  “Amy called before my cell phone died. She said she wanted to come and see me at the barn. She was going to tell her parents she was at a sleepover at Janice’s for two nights as a way to celebrate her birthday on Monday.”

  Luke stared at Sam in dismay. “But she didn’t show up, did she?”

  “No.” Sam’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I figured she changed her mind about us. One of the reasons Doug and I finally came home was so I could find her and talk to her.”

  Luke digested that piece of information. “So it’s possible Amy’s been missing since late Sunday night or early Monday morning? But we only just found out about it on
Tuesday?”

  “Janice wouldn’t have said anything sooner, not if she assumed Amy was with me.” Sam’s eyes reflected the depth of his guilt.

  “Oh, Sam, it’s not your fault,” Megan whispered.

  Luke mentally echoed her sentiment, but it was no wonder Amy’s parents had jumped to conclusions about Sam.

  He could hardly blame them. If Sam had been anyone but his son, he might have felt the same way.

  For several minutes, no one spoke. Finally Luke took out his cell phone and called Frank. “I need you to find out from the medical examiner what the estimated time of death is for Amy Schiller.”

  “The ME just called with the estimate,” Frank admitted. “They’re putting the time of her death as sometime on Monday, between four and eight in the morning.”

  Luke closed his eyes on a wave of despair. “Okay, thanks, Frank.”

  Frank continued, “We’re going to have to interview your son again. He wasn’t at the bonfire Saturday night and Amy’s parents…”

  “I know,” he interrupted, not really wanting to hear the accusations all over again.

  “It’s only questioning at this point, but you need to know, if it comes down to it, if we arrest him, there is a good chance Sam will be tried as an adult.”

  An adult. Because Sam’s eighteenth birthday was just a couple of weeks away. He and Shelia had held Sam back a year to make sure he would do well in school.

  And now his son might be tried as an adult for a murder he didn’t commit.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll bring him in.” He snapped his phone shut and glanced at Megan.

  “I heard,” she said softly.

  “So I’m a suspect again?” Sam asked, his tone full of anger. He leaped to his feet and began to pace the short expanse of the living room with agitated motions. “I don’t believe it! Doesn’t Doug’s word mean anything in this town? I was with him all night!”

  “Of course Doug’s word means something,” Luke said with more confidence than he felt. “I’ll take you down to the station, but you’re not going to give a statement. Not until we hire a lawyer.”

  “A lawyer?” Sam stopped dead in his tracks, and his face went pale. For several long moments his son stared at him incredulously. “Seriously? You really think I need a lawyer?”

  Megan glanced over her shoulder at Sam, who sat hunched in the corner of the backseat of Luke’s squad car staring blankly out the window.

  A strained silence filled the car as they rode along the highway toward the center of town.

  She couldn’t think of a single encouraging word to say. The entire situation seemed surreal. She reached over to take Luke’s hand in hers, a silent testament of her support. He squeezed her fingers reassuringly and flashed a strained smile.

  If only there was something more she could do to help. She could only imagine what both Luke and Sam were going through.

  The news of Sam’s romantic involvement with the latest victim had been the hot topic of discussion down at the sheriff’s department headquarters the moment the call from Amy’s parents had come in.

  Disturbed by what she was hearing, she’d gone to Frank, quietly asking if he’d take her to Luke’s house. Thankfully, he’d agreed.

  But she’d never imagined the full extent of what Sam had revealed. The secret liaisons Sam had with Amy wouldn’t help his case. Even though he did have Doug as an alibi, there was plenty to worry about. The circumstantial evidence didn’t look at all promising.

  She’d been glad when Luke called Reed Gaston, a well-known criminal lawyer from Madison. Gaston had instantly agreed to meet them down at headquarters, cautioning Luke that Sam shouldn’t say anything until he arrived.

  It was too early to eat dinner, and besides that, no one was very hungry. Instead they waited a half hour before heading down to headquarters to meet Reed.

  When Luke pulled into his designated parking spot, he met Sam’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “Remember, you’re not to say a single word until you’ve spoken to Reed.”

  “I won’t.”

  Megan could barely stand to watch as Frank and Deputy Scott met Sam the moment he crossed the threshold of the building. The poor boy was still a teenager, but he looked as if he’d aged well beyond his years.

  “This way,” Frank said kindly, steering Sam toward the interrogation room. “Your attorney is inside, waiting for you.”

  Wordlessly, Sam followed the deputies without a backward glance at his father.

  Luke stood for several long moments before he headed for his office. She followed him, unwilling to let him suffer alone. She barely managed to skirt inside the door before he shut it with a loud click.

  “Luke, it’s going to be okay,” she murmured when he hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “They don’t have enough evidence to arrest Sam.”

  “Maybe they don’t need evidence,” Luke said bleakly. “Everyone has already tried him and found him guilty because we’re outsiders here.”

  She crossed over to lightly grasp his arm. “Don’t say that,” she said sternly. “Of course they need evidence. They’ll need something to prove Doug wrong. He isn’t an outsider,” she pointed out.

  For several long seconds he stared down at her, and then suddenly he pulled her into his arms. She willingly clutched him close, wishing she could do more. “I’m so afraid I’ll lose him,” he murmured against her hair. “You won’t.”

  “I wish I could believe that.” She could feel him rub his cheek against her hair.

  She drew back just enough to gaze up at him. “We’re going to find this guy, Luke. And when we do, Sam will be proven innocent.”

  “Your faith humbles me,” he said softly.

  “Your faith helped show me the way,” she pointed out. “Do you really think God is going to abandon us now?”

  “No.” For a moment hope brightened his eyes. And then his gaze dropped to her mouth. She held her breath as anticipation swirled in her bloodstream.

  “I’m so glad I found you, Megan,” he said before he lowered his mouth to hers.

  She melted against him, reveling in the softness, the passion of his kiss.

  The door to his office suddenly swung open and Luke instantly raised his head. For a moment she couldn’t concentrate, but then realized Sam had interrupted them again.

  “Don’t you think you should stop thinking with your hormones and start looking for Amy’s murderer?” Sam asked harshly. “Or don’t you care that I’m a murder suspect?”

  Megan winced when she saw Luke’s cheeks flush with guilt. He instantly dropped his arms and took a long step away from Megan, putting plenty of distance between them.

  And worse, he staunchly avoided her gaze.

  Sam let out a disgusted sigh. “Reed Gaston wants to talk to both of us, if you can manage to tear yourself away from her.” The disdain in his tone was glaringly obvious. “Although maybe you’d be happier if I went to jail. That way I’d be out of your way for good.”

  “Of course not, Sam, don’t be ridiculous. I’m sorry. You’re absolutely right,” Luke said, pushing the dagger deeper into her heart. “This is hardly the time for distractions. Let’s go.”

  Without any sort of apology, Luke brushed past her as if she didn’t even exist and followed Sam.

  FIFTEEN

  Ignoring the curious stares of the deputies and dispatchers working in the department, Megan lifted her chin defiantly and walked down the hall.

  Only then, in the private sanctuary of the small office, did she allow the tears from Luke’s rejection to slip silently down her cheeks.

  He couldn’t have made his feelings more clear. And even if he had felt something for her, if Sam didn’t approve she knew full well that whatever feelings they might have shared wouldn’t mean a thing.

  Luke would never sacrifice his relationship with his son.

  And truthfully, she couldn’t ask him to.

  After a few minutes of wallowing in self-pity, she pulled herself
together with a monumental effort.

  Maybe Sam was right.

  Maybe they were allowing themselves to be distracted by emotions.

  Another girl had died and they were no closer to finding the truth.

  With renewed determination, she blew her nose and then opened the transcripts of the Sherman trial, doing what she should have done in the first place, rather than following her heart to rush to Luke’s side.

  There had to be a connection between the Sherman murders and the latest Crystal Lake victims.

  All she had to do was to find it.

  Keeping focused on the details of the crimes wasn’t easy, not when she was constantly wondering how things were going with Sam and Luke. But soon she became embroiled in the past.

  Abruptly stumbling across the detail that had niggled in the back of her mind earlier.

  Latex. Latex was made of rather large protein particles—the reason so many hospitals had stopped using it was because the particles became airborne and tended to cause allergic reactions after repeated exposures.

  Latex particles were found on the rope around Katie’s neck. But not on the first two victims. No, the rope on the first two victims had revealed particles of plastic, the type that might have come from plastic gloves.

  If the killer had used latex, they would have for sure found evidence of it.

  Quickly, she leafed through the paperwork on Liza’s autopsy. The ME had found plastic particles embedded in the rope around Liza’s neck. Not latex.

  Katie’s murder was the outlier.

  She went back to Sherman’s trial transcript. Latex gloves had been found in his apartment. Not plastic gloves. She sat back, forcing the memories she’d long suppressed to surface.

  At the time, they hadn’t thought too much about the difference between the types of gloves. After all, it was possible Paul had used plastic with the first two victims, but then for some reason ended up wearing latex gloves with Katie. There was certainly nothing to prove otherwise.