She frowned at me. “Just drink the pickle juice. Like it or not, it works. Meanwhile, I’ll fix you a plate.”
I took a reluctant sip of the pickle juice. As soon as the salty liquid hit my tongue, I wondered if she might be on to something. “That’s actually not that bad.” I shrugged and took a larger sip.
“Of course it’s not bad. I made it from cucumbers from my own garden last summer. Bryn, fix her a tall glass of water. While you’re at it, fix yourself and me one. Why a bunch of grown women thought it was smart to drink away their troubles is beyond me.”
“Hey, I wasn’t—”
Grammy whipped around, pointing a finger at me. “Don’t you even think about lying to me, Lily Marie Thomas. You two might be sweet, but I can smell a fib out of either one of you a mile away.”
I straightened. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll just sit here and drink my pickle juice.”
Bryn grinned at me, then set about to fill some glasses.
Grammy handed me a plate of fried eggs, cheesy grits, bacon, and biscuits and gravy.
“You made all of this for me?”
“And me too!” Bryn protested, handing me a glass of water. She accepted a second plate from Grammy.
Grammy smiled. “When Cooper called to tell me my Lil was in trouble, I grabbed everything I needed and got over here.”
“You’re here to babysit me,” I said, then swallowed a mouthful of grits.
Grammy picked up her coffee mug and leaned across the island. “I came here to help you with what Coop suspected would be a world-class hangover.” She eyed me disappointingly over her mug. “Want to tell me what that’s all about? You don’t drink like that.”
I sat back. “Bryn was there too. I don’t see you scolding her.”
“I gave up trying to keep her innocent a long time ago.”
“Gee, thanks,” Bryn said, climbing onto the stool next to me.
“Well just look at you,” Grammy said to Bryn. “You clearly know how to handle your liquor.”
Bryn smiled. “I drank a full glass of water between each drink, ate a decent-sized dinner to soak up some of the alcohol, and took three pain killers before I went to bed.” She took a bite of bacon, then closed her eyes to savor it. “Died and gone to heaven, I tell you.” She quickly started shoveling down grits and eggs.
Grammy laughed, then looked at me. “See? She knows how to drink alcohol like an adult.”
“Did you pee all night?” I asked Bryn. Then I gave my head a shake. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. I’m never drinking like that again.”
Bryn answered anyway. “Yes, as a matter of fact I was up and down all night. But it’s worth it, because I feel fine today. A little tired, but all in all…” She shrugged and kept eating.
“It’s so not fair,” I said, drinking more pickle juice.
“No, what’s not fair is that I’ve got to get to work.” Bryn took one last bite, then stood and shook her head. I could see she was dreading going back to the coffee house and trying to act like everything was normal after one of her employees had been murdered. She sighed, then brightened. “I’ll call you later. I’m meeting Jake for dinner tonight. He stood me up the other night, so he’s making it up to me by taking me to a new place in Lexington. I’ve got a new, sexy dress just for the occasion.” She curtsied, then threw a wave over her shoulder and left before Grammy could make a smart comment about the “sexy dress.”
With Bryn gone, Grammy turned back to me. “I heard you had some trouble with your mother last night.”
I scoffed. “I shouldn’t let Linda bother me. I know she has some sort of mental illness. But she’s just so manipulative.”
“You owe her nothing,” Grammy said. “Do we know what she’s after this time?”
“A piece of the proceeds from your house.”
“Well, that’s not gonna happen. Even when I find a new buyer, she won’t be seeing one red cent.”
“She said something last night that got me thinking, though. She knew I was going to be in town. I told almost no one I was coming, and you can be sure she wasn’t one of them.”
“What did Cooper say about this?”
“I haven’t gotten a chance to tell him. I wasn’t exactly in a condition to have a conversation when he arrived at Boone’s.”
“Bryn told me you were thinking about going back to New York. Some nonsense about changing your name?”
I stood and walked to the coffee pot. “I’m still considering it. I wanted to go yesterday, but it was too soon. I know that.” After pouring a mug of coffee, I doctored it with cream and sugar. “Winn knocked some sense into me and talked me into waiting a couple of days. I just feel like I’ve brought some sort of evil to this town. That maybe I should take that evil back to New York. And if I could hide under a new pen name…” My voice trailed off. I knew my plan wasn’t all that sound.
“That’s ridiculous. People can get hurt in New York just as easily as in Kentucky, even more so if you ask me. Here, at least I know you’re being protected. Stoker and Cooper are working around the clock to find out what’s going on. And Cooper will make sure you’re not hurt.” She stepped to me and placed a hand on my cheek. “That man cares about you, Lily.”
“Yes, and we will always care about each other. But Coop and I were over a long time ago, Grammy. Too much has happened. I’m happy to accept his help, but beyond that…”
Grammy’s eyes drilled into mine, and I didn’t dare look away. “That’s a load of horse shit. I know it. You know it.”
My eyes widened as I stared her in the face. She didn’t blink. Finally, I looked away. “You’re right. It’s horse shit. Your words, not mine. But Winn is here, and he’s got a plan for helping me get my writing career back on track. And my life is in New York now.”
“Winn might be a good man, but he’s no Cooper. Let Winn help you with your career. But Cooper?”
I closed my eyes for a couple of beats. “Winn has been very good to me. We’ll always be friends. But he knows that I was never going to love him. I’m lucky he’s stuck with me despite that. I do need him though.”
“But you want Coop.”
“Wanting Coop and deserving Coop are two very different things.” I had wanted Coop since we were only kids in high school, but after that fateful night I could never seem to get to a place where I felt I deserved him. To a place where I could let him back in without giving up too much control. Tears welled up in my eyes and spilled over. “My career is a mess. My relationships are a mess. I’m a mess.”
“Well then it’s a good thing my house isn’t selling. Because now I have time to help you get your life sorted out.”
“It’s not your job, Grammy. I came home to help you, not the other way around.”
“Hogwash. That’s just silly talk. Now go put some makeup on.” She quickly held up her hands defensively. “Not that you need it, but it’ll make you feel better to see color in your face. I’ve always thought a little lipstick can fix a lot of things.”
I smiled and gave her a little salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Twenty-Seven
Coop
By nine a.m., Sheriff Daniels had put six police officers in street clothes at various businesses near the Subway and the Waffle House at the edge of town. Uniformed officers were a couple of blocks away in squad cars, ready to move in if needed.
Luke arrived in Paynes Creek around nine fifteen and joined me at the Hopewell Feed Store—a farm and gardening supply store down the street with direct views of both restaurants. I quickly brought him up to speed.
“And you think this woman will show?” Luke asked after we’d been in place nearly an hour.
“No idea.” I glanced down at my watch, which read 10:05. “It’s not looking good. She’s probably seen by now that Tricia is dead. But it’s worth a shot.”
Luke and I were standing in a loading area meant for picking up bulk loads of mulch, straw, hay, and the like. The smell was ripe.
“It s
mells like cow shit,” Luke said, crinkling up his nose.
“Don’t be such a pansy. That’s fertilizer. If you’re going to live in a small farming town…” I left the statement open-ended.
A few minutes later, a black, late-model Mercedes Benz sedan with tinted windows pulled into the Waffle House. I immediately radioed Sheriff Daniels. “You seeing this?”
“Roger that.” Daniels ordered his team over the two-way radio system to stand alert. Specific team members were ordered to be ready to move.
While I knew there was no way it was going to happen, I found myself desperately wishing that Rudy Richardson would exit that vehicle. I wanted nothing more than to take that man down with my bare hands.
The back passenger-side door opened, and a long, slender female leg with a stiletto heel appeared.
“Definitely not someone from around here,” I said as I watched her through the binoculars.
The woman stepped out and turned three hundred sixty degrees, taking in the parking lot. She paused for just a moment as she looked across the lot at the neighboring Subway. She wore a black pencil skirt and matching cropped jacket, and her blond hair was styled into a perfect low bun. I couldn’t get a good look at her face, but if this was Bree White, she wasn’t what I was expecting. Although it had been twelve years since she’d been seen, based on what we knew of her back then, I didn’t expect her to appear so well-kept and stylish.
“Is it her?” Sheriff Daniels asked through the radio.
“I have no idea,” I answered as I watched the woman enter the Waffle House. “I’m going in. Everyone keep their distance and wait for my signal.” I looked over at Luke, eyeing his dark suit. “Could you have tried to look less like a fed today?”
He looked down. “What? I’m wearing a tie with bicycles on it. How is that like a fed?”
I rolled my eyes. “You want some waffles?”
“No, but I’m up for some bacon.”
We climbed into my SUV, and I took the far exit out of the feed store. Seconds later, I turned into the Waffle House and parked beside the Mercedes. A driver was sitting behind the wheel—a man wearing sunglasses and reading a newspaper. Not Rudy Richardson.
Luke and I entered the Waffle House and took a booth away from the mystery woman. We put in an order for coffee, and when the waitress filled our cup, Luke began talking to her about how he liked his bacon crispy, not limp.
“While you two talk bacon, I’m going to use the bathroom.” I slid out of the booth. Luke gave me a quick look that said: I’ve got your back. “You can just bring me a plate of waffles with a side of link sausage,” I added in a curt tone to continue the act.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” the waitress joked as I passed behind her.
I sauntered toward the mystery woman on my way to the bathroom. She looked up at me, peering over a pair of sunglasses that she hadn’t removed upon entering. Her face was much more weathered than I had imagined it would be from watching her through the binoculars. I guessed she had to be nearing sixty, or maybe even older—the age Bree White was estimated to be now.
Just as I was about to pass her, I turned to her. “Oh my goodness, Ms. White? Is that you?” I placed a hand on my chest. “Do you remember me?”
Her head jerked up. “I… I’m sorry. Do I know you?” She glanced around nervously.
“Bree White, right? Class of…” I snapped my fingers as if I was trying to place her.
“I don’t know who you think I am,” she said. She started to push up from the booth.
I blocked her from getting around me. I grabbed my radio. “It’s her. Move in.”
Distant sirens responded almost immediately.
“Bree White,” I said. “You’ve been away for a long time.” I gestured for her to sit back down, then showed her my FBI identification. “I’m Special Agent Cooper Adams. Please, have a seat. We’d like to ask you some questions. The charges we file will depend greatly on what information you provide us and how well you cooperate.”
“Again, I don’t know who you think I am—”
I leaned close to her ear. “Please give us a hard time. I will gladly walk you out of here in handcuffs.”
She leaned away from me. “You’re arresting me?”
“Not yet,” I said. “But I can, if that will make you feel better. Mostly, I’d like very much if you answered a few questions.”
Four police cars and the sheriff sped into the parking lot and came to a stop.
“Can you tell me where Rudy Richardson is?” I asked.
After eyeing the parade of law enforcement outside, she crossed her arms. “I’m not telling you shit.”
Bree White had refused to answer any questions—or in fact say anything at all. So Sheriff Daniels arrested her for aiding and abetting the kidnapping of Lily Thomas, for leaving the scene of a crime, and a slew of other charges related to what happened to Lily twelve years ago. Then we left her stewing in a jail cell.
I was confident she wouldn’t be leaving for a long time. Since she’d fled the crime long ago and hadn’t been seen in twelve years, she’d be considered a considerable flight risk—no judge in their right mind was going to grant her bail.
I decided to take the opportunity to talk to Bryn and her staff about Tricia. Sheriff Daniels had already spoken to Bryn and one of her servers, Barrett, the morning after the murder, but we still had so little to go on. I was hoping one of them might think of something new.
“Hey, Cooper,” a voice said behind me as I got out of my SUV in front of Bryn’s coffee house.
I turned. Chief Robinson was coming toward me.
“Hi, Chief. I was going to head your way after I stopped in to see Bryn.”
He glanced around as if to verify no one was listening. “I hope it was to tell me that you’ve been using my office as a cover for your FBI case.” He seemed a bit miffed.
“I certainly meant no disrespect to you or your office, Chief. I was just following orders.”
He slapped me on the shoulder. “We’re good, Coop. The SAC out of Louisville called and explained the situation. I’d like to know more when you have time. Today.” Yes, he was definitely miffed.
“I’ll share with you everything I know.” I looked at my watch. “How about I come by at three?”
“That would be fine. You know, I meant what I said the other day. You’d make a fine small-town detective. Now that I know you’re not still hung up on that case that went bad for you, I feel even more certain that I’d like you on my force.”
“I appreciate that, sir. I’d also like you to know that I appreciate that the sheriff’s office and the PCPD are working together. I had no idea when I came here that this would turn into this big mess.”
“No way you could’ve. I’m looking forward to that update from you at three.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bryn was running around delivering food and looking frazzled when I entered the coffee house. I was sure she was crazy busy with her best waitress gone. Hopefully the midday rush would die down soon so I could talk to her and then get over to see Lil. I had to tell Lil about me still being an FBI agent before someone else did. I wasn’t sure how she’d react when she learned not only that I’d been lying to her, but that my entire career was built around what had happened to her twelve years ago. I needed to be the one to tell her that.
I found Jake perched on a stool beside one of the local judges—a woman who was known for harsh sentencing for illegal drug possessions and DUIs. She’d lost a son to a second-offender DUI accident, so her attitude was understandable. And in her defense, she never went outside the parameters set by the law.
“Jake, Judge Bailey,” I said in greeting.
Bailey turned. “Hey, Cooper. Care to join us?”
“For a minute, thanks.” I nodded toward Bryn. “She doing okay today?”
Jake chuckled under his breath. “No. But she would never admit it.”
A young man, barely eighteen,
came over to refill Bailey’s tea. “Hi, Cooper. Can I get you anything?”
“Actually, I’m here to see you.”
“Oh,” he said, straightening. “Is this about Tricia? Do you have any suspects?” His eyes darted around, never quite looking directly at me.
I ignored his questions. “Did you see Tricia that night?”
“Yeah, we were both working. I told Sheriff Daniels this.”
“I know, but now, I’d like you to tell me.”
“Okay,” he said, still a little nervous. “She was supposed to help me close up, but she got a phone call and took off.” He looked down, then back at me, meeting my eyes for the first time.
“She left you to close up alone?” I pulled a notebook from my pocket and jotted a note.
“Y-yes. Am I a suspect now?”
“Relax, Barrett. I’m just trying to construct a timeline. Did she say anything about the phone call she received?”
“No. But she did curse an awful lot when she hung up. She was always cursing.” He rolled his eyes, then tensed again. “Not that that means she deserved to die,” he quickly added.
“It’s okay, Barrett. Can you do me a favor?” He nodded, probably thrilled to be given an escape from this conversation. “Let Bryn know that I’d like to talk to her when she has a minute.”
Barrett darted off and went directly to Bryn. Bryn looked over at me and nodded, then went back to serving a customer.
“He’s sure the nervous type,” Jake said with a chuckle.
“I think the entire town is spooked,” Bailey replied in a more serious tone. “We used to say we didn’t have much crime in this town, but with the discovery last year that we had a serial killer living among us, well, it’s understandable that people are a little twitchy at the thought of another murderer close by.”
She stood and grabbed her bill off the counter. “Good luck with your investigation, Coop. Nail this son of a bitch.”
When she left, Jake turned to me. “You talk to Lil today?”
Truth is in the Darkness (Paynes Creek Thriller Book 2) Page 18