“We’ll find her murderer.” Douglas patted Charles’s shoulder.
“I have no doubt about that, but that won’t bring her back. She was way too young to die, and so brutally…” Charles shook his head, his words echoing the feelings and thoughts of the entire Fitzgerald clan.
“We’ll find her murderer,” Douglas repeated, because it was all he had to offer.
“Have you been able to reach the next of kin?” Charles asked, and Owen shook his head.
“I left a message for Olivia’s cousin to call. Hopefully, she’ll get back with me soon. If not, I’ll call again before the end of the day.”
“How about the coroner? Has he been able to offer anything besides the time of death?”
“I thought we were the ones conducting the interview, Charles,” Douglas said, and Charles offered a quick smile.
“Sorry. I’m not good at sitting back and letting other people handle things.”
“This time, you’re going to have to. I’ll check in with you later. Merry O’Leary is waiting to be interviewed and fingerprinted. I don’t want to keep her waiting much longer.” And, he wasn’t sure she would wait.
He had a feeling she’d run if she could.
Not just from the police station.
From Fitzgerald Bay.
If he didn’t know better, he’d think she’d had something to do with Olivia’s death, but she’d been home the night of the murder. He’d talked to her neighbors and her landlady, Ida Sanderson, who lived in the Victorian next door to Merry’s place. A neighbor had returned home at one o’clock and seen Merry’s station wagon parked in her driveway. Another had left for a hospital shift at three and reported the same. Ida had seen Merry’s lights on at midnight. No one on the street had heard the station wagon’s loud distinctive engine.
He had to admit, he was relieved. Whatever Merry was hiding, it wasn’t her guilt.
He grabbed a file folder from Owen’s desk and carried it to his office. Someone had closed the door, and he opened it, half expecting Merry to be gone.
She wasn’t.
Head down on the desk, an arm beneath her cheek, she seemed to be sleeping soundly.
“Merry?” He touched her shoulder, and she came up swinging, her eyes blank with fear.
“Hey, calm down. It’s just me. Douglas.”
Her arm fell to her side, and her cheeks blazed with color. “Sorry. I forgot where I was for a minute.”
“Yeah? Where exactly did you think you were?”
“B—” she started to say. Stopped. “I guess I was just having a nightmare.”
“Must have been pretty intense.”
“I don’t remember much about it.” She backed away, nearly falling over the chair, and he grabbed her arm, felt tense muscles and warm flesh beneath her long-sleeved T-shirt.
His fingers tightened of their own accord, heat shooting up his arm and straight into his heart.
Merry’s blush deepened as she stared into his eyes. She felt it, too. The connection. The attraction. He’d seen it in her eyes when they’d had lunch together. Still saw it in her eyes. He was sure of that. He just wasn’t sure what either of them wanted to do about it.
He released his hold, forced himself to step back. “Better watch it. If you break your leg, I’ll have to take you to the hospital instead of home.”
“You’re taking me home?”
“Eventually.”
“Oh.” She looked so disappointed, he almost smiled.
“I still need to get your fingerprints, and I still need to ask you a few questions.” He gestured for her to sit, then took the seat across from her.
“I’ve been here too long. Tyler is probably getting worried.”
“He’s getting worried, or you are?”
“I am. I don’t like leaving him with people he doesn’t know well.”
“He didn’t know Ida Sanderson the first time you left him with her.”
“I know. It’s just…”
“What?”
“Nothing. You said you had more questions for me?”
“Fingerprints first.”
It didn’t take long. Ten minutes tops. But Merry seemed to grow tenser with every passing second, her fingers taut as he maneuvered them, her face pale.
“Is there some reason why you’d rather not have your fingerprints taken?” Douglas asked casually as he handed her a wet wipe to clean her hands.
“No.”
“Is there ever going to be a point when you decide you can trust me with the truth?”
She took one deep breath. Another. Finally, she tossed the wet wipe into the trash can and met his eyes. “I really do need to get home, Douglas.”
He wanted to keep pushing, demand an answer, but she was right. She had to get home. And, he had to find a killer. “Have you ever seen this?” He pulled a photo from the file folder, slid it across the table.
“It’s a dolphin charm,” she said, lifting the photo, studying it.
“That’s right.”
“It doesn’t look familiar.”
“So, you don’t recall Olivia owning a charm bracelet or necklace that might have had a silver dolphin charm on it?”
“No. Why? Was it found…with her?”
“At the scene, but we’re going to keep that quiet for a while. Okay?”
“Sure.” She looked at the photo for another minute, then slid it back to him. “Olivia had a ring that she inherited from her mother. She wore that a lot, but I’m sure she never wore a charm bracelet. At least not when we were around each other.”
Nothing helpful there. Her answer was the same as the one Charles had given. When it came to Olivia Henry it seemed there were more questions than answers. She’d been in town for three months, but no one seemed to know what had brought her to Fitzgerald Bay or why she’d stayed.
Funny, no one seemed to know that about Merry, either.
“What brought you to Fitzgerald Bay, Merry?” he asked, expecting her to balk or evade the way she did every time he asked a personal question.
Instead, she shrugged, smiled. “My parents brought me here when I was a kid. I loved it, and I wanted to share the experience with Tyler. We came for a visit, but it’s such a wonderful town, I decided to stay.”
The answer rolled off her tongue as if she’d rehearsed it a hundred times.
“Just like that, you decided to move?”
“Not really. I was laid off from my previous job as a teacher, and it seemed as good a time as any to start fresh in a new town with a new job.”
“So, you’re a teacher?”
“Was a teacher. Now, I lead story time at your sister’s book store.” Her smile tightened, but she continued to answer, and Douglas wondered how far he could push before she pushed back.
“Where did you teach?”
“I thought you wanted to ask me questions about Olivia?”
“I did. Now, I want to ask some questions about you.”
“And I want to go home. Unless you have a reason to keep me here, that’s what I’m going to do.” She stood, and he knew he’d found the place where his pushing ended and hers began.
Not far.
Not far at all.
He grabbed her hand before she could walk out the door, tugging her to a stop. “You can’t run away forever, Merry.”
“Who says I’m running?”
“Aren’t you?”
“No.”
“Then, why not tell me where you’re from? Why not explain how you really ended up in Fitzgerald Bay.”
“I—”
“You know I can run a background check, right? It won’t take long to find out everythin
g there is to know about you. Where you were born, who your parents were, whether or not there’s some deep dark reason why you’re trying to hide your past.”
She paled but didn’t respond.
“That’s the hard way for both of us. The easy way is for you to tell me everything. All the stuff that you’re so determined to keep hidden. Whatever it is, I’ll help you deal with it.” He eased his grip, his fingers skimming along the tender flesh of her inner wrist as he released her.
She studied his face, her eyes dark and moist with tears. “Maybe—”
“Douglas! We’ve got trouble.” Owen ran into the office, and whatever Merry had planned to say, whatever secrets she might have revealed were lost.
“What kind of trouble?”
“There’s been a shooting.”
“Where?”
“Merry’s place. Keira just called it in.”
“Tyler!” Merry shoved passed Owen, ran into the hall.
“Running off half-cocked and getting yourself killed isn’t going to help your son.” Douglas snagged the back of her shirt, and she whirled around, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Standing here isn’t going to help him, either.” She tried to pull away, but he grabbed her shoulders.
“Then, sit. I’ll call you as soon as we finish at your place.”
“I’m not going to sit when my son could be injured. Maybe even—”
“Tyler is fine,” Owen said, and Merry turned the full force of her dark brown gaze on him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. The shooter fired a couple shots from the street. Took out one of the windows, but no one was hurt.”
“Thank God.” Her creamy skin had gone parchment pale, her freckles standing out in stark contrast against the pallor.
“You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?” Douglas asked, wrapping an arm around her waist.
She managed to shake her head.
“Go back in my office and wait. I’ll come for you as soon as we’re finished at the scene.”
“The scene is my house. One of the intended victims is my son. I’m not waiting anywhere.” She followed him out into bright sunlight and frigid air.
“We don’t know that anyone was an intended victim. The shooting might have been a scare tactic.”
“If it was, it worked. I’m scared.” She climbed into the SUV, and he didn’t waste energy insisting she stay behind.
If it were his son, he’d do anything to get to him.
The drive took less than five minutes, and Douglas pulled into Merry’s driveway, adrenaline pumping as he eyed the shattered glass in the front window. If someone had been standing there, the gunshot could have been deadly.
Thank the Lord Keira and Tyler hadn’t been injured.
Or worse.
Several neighbors huddled on the sidewalk, and Ida Sanderson stood on the porch talking to Owen.
Probably not just talking.
Ida had a strong will and a reputation for getting what she wanted. More than likely, she wanted to go in the house. A reasonable request since the Cape Cod had been in her family for generations. Now, though, it was a crime scene, and she’d have to stay out until Owen and Douglas were finished gathering evidence.
Merry was exiting the SUV and racing across the yard before Douglas put the vehicle in Park. He followed, jogging up the porch steps, Ida’s voice following him into the foyer.
She was definitely on a rant, her strident demand to be allowed inside the house carrying on the frigid air. She wouldn’t get her way.
Keira was waiting for him. “Where is Tyler?”
“Upstairs in the back bedroom. I figured that was the safest place for him. Merry just went up.”
“You’re sure he’s okay?” Douglas glanced into the living room. Glass blanketed the sofa and floor, and he imagined Tyler sitting there, playing with a car, sharp projectiles suddenly showering around him.
“Not a scratch on him. We were both in the kitchen when it happened.”
“Did you get a look at the car?”
“An SUV. Dark blue. No license plate.”
“Sounds like the vehicle Merry saw last night. How about the driver? Did you see him?”
“By the time I got outside, the car was too far way for me to see the driver. One of the neighbors might have, though.”
“We’ll take their statements. See what they have to say.”
“What they’re going to say is that we should be doing more to stop the crime wave that seems to be sweeping Fitzgerald Bay.”
“It’s hardly a crime wave, Keira.”
“Those aren’t my words. They’re Ida’s.”
“That doesn’t surprise me.”
“Yeah, well, we can’t afford to have her grumbling to the community. Not when people are already speculating about Olivia’s murder and pointing fingers at Charles.” She frowned, shoving down her hat on straight black hair.
“No one is pointing fingers at anyone.”
“Of course they are. Fortunately, there’s no proof that Charles was involved in Olivia’s death. If there was, certain people around town would be demanding his arrest.”
She was right.
Douglas knew it, but he didn’t like it. Didn’t like that the community he’d grown up in, the community he loved would turn away from a man who’d served them so loyally. “Charles has plenty of friends in the community. He’s also got us. He’ll be fine.”
“He’ll be better once we find Olivia’s murderer.” Keira walked into the living room and used a gloved hand to lift a bullet from the floor. “I’m thinking that might be the same person who fired this.”
“Don’t assume things, Keira. We need facts, not conjecture.” He took the bullet. High caliber handgun. It could easily have gone through siding and drywall.
Had murder been the intention?
Or had the shooter been trying to instill a sense of fear, perhaps convey a warning?
Without knowing the motivation, it was impossible to predict the perpetrator’s next move. If they couldn’t predict it, they couldn’t stop it.
And, Douglas did plan to stop it.
One young woman was already dead. He wouldn’t let another be killed.
Whether Merry wanted to or not, she was going to have to start talking. Not just about Olivia. About everything. Somewhere in the secrets she’d been keeping were the answers he needed to keep her safe. All Douglas had to do was convince her to share them.
NINE
Merry’s heart pounded frantically as she hugged Tyler close. He could have been killed, and it would have been her fault for staying too long in one place. Three years of running and another on constant alert had left her worn out and on edge. Fitzgerald Bay had been a balm to her frazzled nerves. She’d soaked up the easy small-town pace, let herself believe that four years was enough time.
Let herself believe it because she’d wanted to, not because it was true.
She hugged Tyler a little tighter, her mind racing with all the things that needed to be done.
Pack a few of Tyler’s toys.
Leave a note for Ida.
Kiss goodbye all her dreams of settling down and settling in.
They’d be on the run again, and this time, Merry wouldn’t stop running, wouldn’t get complacent, wouldn’t ever stop believing that their lives depended on staying one step ahead of the danger that followed.
“You’re smotherin’ me, Mommy.” Tyler pushed against her chest, and she eased her hold.
“Sorry, sweetie.” She brushed soft black hair from his forehead, kissed his chubby cheek, her heart clenching hard with love.
She’d never planned t
o be a single mother. As a matter of fact, she’d spent the six years after the car accident that had killed her parents imagining what her life would be like when her younger brother and sister were finally grown and out of the house. She’d planned to date, fall in love, get married. Children were a part of that dream, but they would come after the big wedding and romantic honeymoon.
That’s the way she had wanted it.
The way she had thought God wanted it.
And then Nicole had walked into her classroom, and everything had changed.
Take him and run. I’ll come as soon as I can.
Only Nicole hadn’t been able to come. Not then. Not ever.
Merry shuddered, opening her closet and pulling out the overnight bag she kept there. Packed with a few of her things and a few of Tyler’s, it contained only what they’d need to travel to the next place. Everything else had to be left behind. Clothes, books, the dishes she’d bought from the thrift store a few days after she’d arrived in town, the house she’d grown to love.
Her job.
Her friends.
She blinked rapidly, forcing back tears that she wouldn’t shed. She’d grab the money and the bankbook out of the closet after the police left, pack some snacks and drinks and a few toys. Then she and Tyler would get in the car and they’d drive away from the beautiful little town she had thought she could make their forever home.
“Please, Lord, keep us safe and help me find just the right place for us to settle down again.”
“Are you praying, Mommy?” Tyler bounced on her bed, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop. He had friends, too. A preschool he loved. A yard and toys and a room that he wouldn’t want to leave behind. When he’d been an infant, a baby, a toddler, it had been easy to move from place to place, but the older Tyler got, the more reluctant he became to leave people and places behind.
One day, he’d ask her why they moved all the time. She wasn’t sure what she’d tell him. Didn’t know how she could explain the horrible circumstances that had led to their nomadic existence. Didn’t know how she could explain the truth about his parents. He’d only asked about his father, and he’d easily accepted that he simply didn’t have one. One day, though, he’d demand the truth.
The Lawman's Legacy (Love Inspired Suspense) Page 8