Silent Witness

by Diane Burke

  But none of it was true.

  It was her father.

  Her father had bullied Luke until he took his own life. Her father had bullied her mother until she was broken and so afraid that when she ran, she ran alone, leaving her behind. It was her father who had hated the Morgans so much that he’d lied to Adam and sent him away. The father she loved…and hated.

  Her father.

  How would she ever be able to face Adam again? Would he be able to forgive her? Would she be able to gather the courage to ask for that forgiveness?

  “I haven’t seen him yet.” Charlie tossed a ball onto the lawn and both Rerun and Jeremy ran after it. “When I passed by his bedroom door, I thought I heard his shower running. I’m sure he’ll be down in a little bit.” She glanced over her shoulder and caught Liz’s gaze. “So, how did it go last night?”

  “How did what go?”

  “Don’t play coy.” Charlie’s perpetual grin was plastered on her face. “I left you alone so the two of you could talk.”

  “About what?”

  Charlie placed her hands on her hips and for the first time since she’d met her, the woman frowned.

  “I don’t know what happened between the two of you years ago. But I do know this. Both of you still have feelings for each other. Whenever the two of you are in the same room together, the air zings with energy and awareness.”

  “Charlie, has anyone ever told you that you have an overactive imagination?”

  “Stop fighting it! In case you haven’t noticed, neither of you are kids anymore. It’s time to settle the past and put it where it belongs—in the past. Think of all the wonderful possibilities for the future. So, did you talk last night or did I confine myself to my room for nothing?”

  Heat rushed up Liz’s throat and colored her cheeks.

  “We talked.”

  “And?” Charlie’s singsong enunciation of the word made Liz laugh.

  “And nothing. We talked. Adam went to bed. I stayed up and did a couple of perimeter checks of the house and then I sacked out on the sofa.”

  The crestfallen expression on Charlie’s face made Liz laugh.

  “I don’t get it,” Charlie said. “You guys are perfect for each other. I thought if you had some time to talk privately, you know, catch up on what’s been happening over the years, that maybe you guys… Well, you know.”

  Liz gave Charlie a quick hug. “That’s why you’re a dog whisperer and not a matchmaker. Stick to what you do best, kiddo.”

  “Where are you going?”

  Liz crossed the lawn and slid behind the wheel of the old pickup truck.

  “Where are you going? What do you want me to tell Adam?”

  Liz rolled down the window. “Tell him I had to return this truck and then I went to work. I’ll see both of you later.”

  Liz pushed the accelerator of the old pickup as if she were driving a Ferrari instead of a tin can with wheels. She couldn’t get away fast enough. Chasing bad guys and fighting crime was a thousand percent easier and more appealing this morning than facing Adam.

  * * *

  Liz entered the observation room where Paul and Sal were conversing. “Fill me in.” She gestured to the woman sitting alone behind the large glass window in Interrogation.

  “That’s Stephanie Murdock, Ms. Willowby’s infamous teller who supposedly is having an affair with the bank manager, Joe Grimes.” Sal tilted his head. “Paul just told me that Joe Grimes is unable to accept our invitation to join us this morning because he is out of the country on business.”

  “I checked his travel itinerary, Sheriff. He gets back from Switzerland tomorrow. Darlene and I plan on being his welcome committee.”

  “Good. Bring him directly to the station, Paul. I want him to have as little heads-up about this as possible.” Liz looked through the glass. “Any chance we can keep Miss Hot Pants from tipping him off? I’d like to catch him unaware, if possible.”

  “We could always arrest her.”

  “On what charge?”

  “Resisting arrest? Failure to yield in a school zone? I’ll think of something.”

  “We’re not arresting her, Sal.”

  “Okay. Okay.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll come up with something else. I have personal family knowledge on ways to encourage people not to talk. I don’t have a good Italian name like Sal Rizzo for nothing.”

  Liz shook her head and laughed out loud. “Stop clowning around and get in there.”

  “Yes, boss.” He gave her a mock salute and left with Paul.

  Liz stood, arms folded, behind the two-way glass and watched as Sal worked his magic.

  “Let’s go over this again, Ms. Murdock. Are you going to try to deny that you and Grimes are having an affair?”

  “We’re not. I swear.”

  “It’s not a good thing to swear in front of my face, Stephanie. And don’t forget that God’s watching.”

  Liz smiled. She knew the God reference had been for her benefit. Sal had been trying to cajole her out of her pensive mood all morning.

  Sal leaned across the table. “Talk to me. Do you really want me to think that someone as pretty as you wouldn’t have caught the boss’s eye?”

  Liz’s smile widened. Here it comes. Sal’s charm-school 101 followed by his she’ll-never-know-what-hit-her trap.

  Stephanie preened a little beneath the unexpected compliment. “He might have noticed me.”

  “See, that’s what I’m talking about. Of course he noticed a sweet-looking gal like you.” Sal smiled wide, showing off those even white teeth of his. “And I’m sure you were flattered when an important man like Joe Grimes, bank manager, bigwig in high society, took notice of you.”

  Stephanie stared at Sal for a minute as though weighing her reply.

  “Maybe. A little.”

  “Oh, come on, Stephanie. You’re killing me here. Do you really think I’m stupid enough to think that you were nothing more to Joey boy than one of his tellers?”

  Stephanie dropped her eyes. “I was one of his tellers. I worked for Mr. Grimes at the Third National Bank. But you know that already.”

  “You’re right, I do know that.” Sal got up and moved around to her side of the table. He perched his hip on the edge and leaned in close. “Want to know what else I know?” He pulled a manila folder across the table and slapped it down in front of her.

  Stephanie startled at the sudden movement. The look she shot Sal now wasn’t flirtatious or innocent— It was wary and maybe even a little bit afraid.

  “I know that we traced more than a hundred telephone calls from your cell phone to his over the past six months.”

  She sputtered but didn’t speak.

  “I also know that you have a regular rendezvous scheduled every second Saturday at the Marriott in St. Louis. At least he takes you to nice digs and not a cheap motel.” When he saw the hesitation on her face, he patted the folder. “We have copies of the hotel receipts to prove it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. If Mr. Grimes was at that hotel like you said, then he must have been there with his wife…or somebody else, maybe… But he wasn’t there with me. I can’t remember the last time I was in St. Louis.”

  “Well, maybe I can refresh your memory.” The nice-guy tone was gone from his voice and he leaned so close to her face their noses almost touched. “Stop lying to me!”

  She jumped and pushed herself farther back in her chair.

  “Is this a picture of you?”

  The woman’s eyes darted to the eight-by-ten picture Sal had pulled from inside his manila folder. Her breathing became labored and she got the trapped look in her eyes that Liz had seen before when a culprit realized they were running out of believable lies.

  “We have the names and addresses of a half-dozen people who identified your photo from a wide selection of other photos we offered. They placed you in that hotel with Mr. Grimes the Saturday before last.”

  Sal’s voice almo
st became a sneer. “Next time you try to be inconspicuous, Stephanie, you might try wearing something other than a flesh-colored see-through dress. The men we showed these pictures to didn’t have any trouble at all remembering you. Neither did their wives. Picture jog your memory, sweetheart?”

  Her voice hitched and she breathed in short pants. “I want a lawyer.”

  “Good idea, honey. ’Cause you’re going to need one.” Sal moved toward the door.

  Liz stepped out of the room and met him in the hallway.

  “Good job, Sal. At least we’ve got enough evidence to prove the two of them were having an affair. I’m still having a hard time believing that was motive enough for the Henderson murders.”

  Sal shrugged. “She’s holding something back. I’ll let her sit there and stew for a while and then I’ll take another crack at her.”

  “She asked for a lawyer.”

  “She did?” He pounded the side of his head as he walked away. “Are you sure about that, boss? I thought she said she wanted to call her employer.” He grinned and ducked around the corner.

  Liz chuckled. She knew she didn’t have to worry about Sal. He’d call a public defender for Stephanie, but who could blame him for having a friendly chat with the woman while they waited for the lawyer to arrive?

  TWELVE

  Deep in thought, Liz drove the last few miles to the Granger estate, or maybe she should start thinking of it as Luke’s House. She’d been anxious and uptight about seeing Adam again after the bomb he’d dropped on her about her father and about his feelings for her.

  But she should have known better.

  Adam didn’t bring the subject up again and neither did she.

  The past four days Adam had been funny…and warm…and kind…and attentive. Charlie and Adam entertained her each night with tales of life on a Montana ranch with more dogs than horses. Rerun and Jeremy seemed attached at the hip. The boy laughed frequently and even began speaking to them instead of just Rerun.

  Adam made his presence, and his intentions, known with subtle movements. The feel of his arm across her shoulders when he’d welcome her each evening in the driveway and escort her into the house. The brush of his fingers on her face when he’d push an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. The smoldering look of his eyes. His never-ending tender smile. The masculine scent of his skin when he’d sit beside her or lean over her. The whole package was intoxicating—and Liz was enjoying every second of it.

  She had made up her mind. She was going to steal some private time with him tonight, open her heart and take a leap of faith that he wouldn’t break it again. She was going to ask forgiveness for her role in the past, offer forgiveness for his and confess that she wanted a chance to see what the future held for them.

  She had never expected a little child to find a crack in her armor—but he had. And once Adam had discovered the crack, he’d been working nonstop to break that crack wide open.

  Thank God he had.

  She turned down the driveway to the house. She was painting different scenarios in her mind about tonight, when she glanced in her rearview mirror. She slammed her foot on the accelerator and sped toward the house as quickly as possible.

  She’d barely pulled to a stop when she leaped from her Smart car, ran around to the passenger side, drew her weapon and waited. She couldn’t believe that, as careful as she’d been the past few days, someone had still managed to follow her. She’d switched vehicles. She’d left town, driving in the opposite direction for miles before circling back. She’d checked her rearview mirror more frequently than she’d watched the road ahead.

  Yet, when she’d turned into the driveway a few minutes ago her eyes had caught the glint of the sun reflecting off metal behind her. The crunch of gravel and a significant dust cloud announced the car’s approach.

  She readied her Glock and took aim. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her pulse raced and she could feel her heart thundering in her chest. She should never have tried to protect Jeremy on her own. Thanks to her stupidity there would be no backup. The only thing standing between that child and a bullet was her.

  Whoever was coming up the driveway wasn’t trying to conceal their approach. She began to breathe a little easier. Admittedly, there wasn’t anywhere to hide a car on this property. No woods to creep through. And if they parked on the main road for a quick getaway, they’d have to walk across several acres of open land to reach the house. Still, the driver was taking his time and didn’t appear to be trying to surprise anyone.

  When Liz spotted the flasher bar on top of the vehicle, she holstered her weapon, walked back to the driver’s side of the car and waited. She folded her arms across her chest and gave her most intimidating glare as the patrol car pulled to a stop less than a half-dozen steps away.

  Tom Miller, wearing mirrored sunglasses and dressed in his uniform, stepped from the vehicle and sauntered toward her.

  “What are you doing here? Why did you follow me?” Anger laced her words. “How dare you.”

  “Now, don’t get yourself all worked up, Sheriff. I didn’t follow you. Not exactly, that is.”

  “What do you mean you didn’t follow me? You’re here, aren’t you? How did you locate us?”

  Tom glanced over her shoulder at the house. “‘Us’? Is this where you’re stashing Morgan and the kid?”

  Liz took a menacing step forward. “Do you like your job, Tom? Because if you don’t start explaining yourself in the next ten seconds, you’re not going to have one, so make it good.” She stood toe to toe with her deputy. “And take off those stupid sunglasses. You’re not a Hollywood superstar and you know I hate not being able to see into a person’s eyes.”

  He removed his glasses.

  “Now, talk.”

  “You made a mistake, Sheriff, hiding that kid out here and not telling anyone where he is. How can we help if you keep us in the dark?”

  “If I needed your help, Tom, I would have asked for it. How did you find me? I didn’t tell you where I was.”

  Tom walked to the back of her Smart car, reached down, removed a tiny transmitter and held it up for her to see. “Your daddy taught me everything he knew. He was the best sheriff this county ever had—besides you, of course. He would never have forgiven me if I didn’t keep an eye on you when I thought you was gettin’ in over your head.”

  Liz did a slow boil but managed to keep a calm outward demeanor. She held out her hand. “Deputy Miller, give me that transmitter.”

  He handed it over.

  “We’ve got a bad apple on our team, Sheriff. Rotten to the core.”

  “What are you talking about?” Liz blinked a couple of times trying to process what he was saying.

  “I know it ain’t easy news to hear. I understand. It wasn’t easy for me, either, when I found out. But you need to know, Sheriff. And you’re gonna need help taking care of that boy.”

  Tom cupped his thumbs into his utility belt. “I’ve found out who the killer is, Sheriff. And I’ve got the proof to back it up.” He stared right into her eyes. “It’s Sal Rizzo.”

  Liz’s first reaction was to laugh.

  “You won’t be laughing none when you see the proof for yourself.”

  Proof? That Sal was a killer?

  When she saw that Tom was deadly serious, her stomach clenched as if she’d been physically punched in the gut. Her eyes widened and her lungs froze, the pain in her chest so intense she thought she might never take a breath again.

  “One of my snitches identified him from a photo lineup,” Tom said. “He was seen in the alley behind Smitty’s the night that drug dealer was killed.”

  “You’re crazy.” Liz couldn’t help herself. She took a step back as if she were trying to evade a lunatic. “What were you doing showing pictures of cops in a photo lineup, anyway?”

  “I weren’t out to catch a cop. I was after somebody else and I needed some pictures so I slipped in Sal’s and Paul’s just so I’d have enough pictures for the guy to lo
ok at and give a valid ID.”

  “I don’t believe any of this.”

  “I know it’s hard for you to swallow, Sheriff, you and Sal being close and all. But it’s true.”

  The rush of blood to her head made her temples pound. Her heartbeat sounded in her ears and drowned out his words.

  No. This was impossible. Not Sal. Never Sal.

  “You’re wrong. If you have a witness placing Sal in that alley then there’s a good explanation for it. He was probably making an arrest.”

  “I checked the records. They’re clean. No one was brought in that night…or the night before or after. Definitely no drug deals on the books.”

  “He told me he’s working on something,” Liz replied. “He probably was questioning a suspect or…or setting up a sting.”

  “Or buying drugs?”

  Liz shook her head from side to side. No. Her mind and her heart couldn’t conceive of Sal betraying her this way.

  “Sheriff, the way I’ve pieced it together, Sal Rizzo developed a drug problem about nine months ago. It’s been getting worse and he’s been needing more and more of the stuff to feed his habit. He met up with my snitch and the drug dealer in the back of Smitty’s bar that night for a buy. The dealer got cocky. He doubled the price on Rizzo. They fought. Rizzo killed him. Didn’t mean to. It was an accident. But the guy’s dead just the same, ain’t he?”

  Tom shrugged, folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against his patrol car. “My snitch ran for his life. Went underground. It’s taken me weeks and a lot of greased palms to find him.”

  Liz’s gaze darted wildly around the yard. Jeremy’s swing sitting idle. The family of ducks in the distance gliding by on the pond. Pots of geraniums hanging from the front porch just as she’d suggested. Everything quiet. Everything normal. But a gut-wrenching fear took root in her soul and she knew from this day forward she’d never be able to believe in normal again.