Pretend You're Safe

by Alexandra Ivy

  He needed to think like a gardener.

  “Was there any water or mud on the floor of the shed?” he at last demanded. “Something that would have indicated that Anne had been there and left?”

  Jarrod’s head started to shake in denial, then he stiffened. Clearly he’d remembered something.

  “Oh Lord, she couldn’t have been there.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Jarrod rubbed his hands on his coveralls, eager to find a way to help.

  “As I said, she was always very orderly. If she’d been there she would have wiped her shoes on the rug she’d put inside the door,” he said. “It was dry.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Yep.” An emphatic nod. “I remember noticing that the rug had been recently washed when I was taking off my boots. At the time I was thinking that she was going to give me a good talking-to for making a mess.”

  Rylan’s earlier supposition that the woman could have been easily taken from the woods returned.

  “Who knew that you were meeting Anne in the mornings?” he asked.

  Jarrod looked confused by the question. “No one. I told you. Anne wanted to keep it a secret.”

  Rylan wasn’t convinced. In a town as small as Heron there was no such thing as secrets.

  “What about Sid?”

  Jarrod gave a stubborn shake of his head. “I never said a word to him. Not until she didn’t show up the next morning and I knew something must have happened to her. That’s when Sid told me that Miss Hamilton had reported her as missing.”

  Rylan didn’t press. The man was clearly convinced that no one knew about their affair.

  “You said Anne would slip out through a side gate?” he instead asked. “Where was it?”

  “Just behind the garage.”

  “Could someone have seen her from the house?”

  Jarrod took time to consider, no doubt trying to visualize the various angles.

  “I suppose they could have.” He shrugged. “But Mr. Hamilton always leaves before Anne took her walk and none of the others ever crawled out of bed until nine.”

  Rylan shook his head. Jarrod was either unbelievably naive, or dangerously cunning.

  In either case, he couldn’t delay the inevitable any longer.

  “We need to give this information to the sheriff.”

  Jarrod surged to his feet, sweat dripping from his brow. “I can’t.”

  “He’s not going to arrest you,” Rylan assured the older man. “But I’m sure he’ll have some questions.”

  Jarrod’s calloused hands clenched and unclenched. “How can you be so sure he won’t think I’m guilty?”

  “Just tell him the truth.”

  Jarrod snorted. “Yeah well, I’ve seen plenty of shows where a guilty man is sent to death row.”

  Rylan reached out to lay a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I swear that I’ll use every top official I know to keep you from being framed for a crime you didn’t commit. Okay?”

  The man gave a grudging nod. “Okay.”

  Rylan stepped back, silently hoping he hadn’t just promised more than he could deliver.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mike calmly pocketed his phone. A simple task that wasn’t simple at all.

  Not when he was overwhelmed with the desire to throw it across the room. Maybe even stomp it beneath his heel. At the moment, however, he was acutely aware of the three sets of gazes that were watching him with blatant curiosity.

  The lawyer, dressed in his thousand-dollar suit, who was standing near the window. Loreen Hamilton, who was perched on a leather wing chair. And Payton, who’d halted her nervous pacing when he’d gotten the call from Rylan.

  They’d all sat in tense silence for the past two hours, waiting for the missing Blake and Christopher Hamilton.

  Now, Mike stiffly rose to his feet and offered a meaningless nod toward Loreen.

  “I need to go.”

  A chilled smile touched the woman’s lips. “Finally.”

  “Oh, I’m not done,” he warned, holding her gaze as he headed toward the door. “I intend to speak with your husband and son. We can do it here, or we can do it at my office. It’s up to them.”

  The officious lawyer instantly took command of the conversation.

  “The Hamiltons intend to be as cooperative as possible, Sheriff O’Brien. They are as anxious as you are to discover what happened to poor Ms. Dixon.”

  Mike snorted. The Hamiltons were going to be a pain in the ass from start to finish. It was their greatest talent.

  “The clock is ticking,” he warned. “They can willingly set up a meeting here or I’ll get warrants to make them come to my office.”

  Loreen’s lips parted, but before she could speak the lawyer had moved to place a warning hand on her shoulder. At the same time, Payton walked to stand at Mike’s side.

  “I’ll show you out.”

  Loreen scowled. “Payton.”

  The younger woman waved away her mother’s protest. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  The lawyer pinched his lips, his hard gaze flicking from Payton to Mike.

  “She’s my client, Sheriff. I won’t have her questioned without me present.”

  Mike muttered a curse beneath his breath and headed out the door. He hated lawyers.

  Payton hurried to keep up with his brisk pace. “Has something happened? Did you find out how Anne died?”

  He shot her a jaundiced glare. He’d reached the end of his limited patience with the Hamilton clan.

  “Your lawyer made it clear that we’re not to talk about the case.”

  She sent him a confused frown. “Why are you treating me like the enemy?”

  They reached the large foyer, and Mike halted to turn and face his companion.

  “Because Anne disappeared from this house and now she’s dead.”

  She flinched as if he’d physically struck her. “Oh God.” A shaky hand lifted to press against her throat. “It’s so awful.”

  Mike grimaced. He was in a foul mood. And the recent phone call from Rylan had made it even fouler. Was that a word? Whatever. He wanted to punch something.

  But it wasn’t fair to take it out on Payton.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was insensitive.”

  Payton blinked back tears, her beauty luminous in the sudden beam of sunshine that peeked through the windows.

  “I loved her.” The words were choked with emotion. “I truly did.”

  “I know.” He reached to open the door. He needed to get out of the house. Not only because he had pressing business awaiting him at the office, but because he wanted to be away from the oppressive atmosphere. How the hell did Payton live in this place? It was choking him. “I have to go.”

  “You’ll be back?”

  There was an edge of near panic in her voice that had him turning back to study her pale face.

  “Yeah, I’ll be back.”

  She sucked in a slow, deep breath. “Please let me know if you find out anything about Anne.”

  His lips twisted. They both knew he wasn’t going to tell her anything until the investigation was over.

  Still, he allowed his gaze to brush over her perfect face. “Be careful, Payton. Until we know what’s going on, anyone could be in danger.”

  Without warning, she stepped forward and brushed her mouth over his in a lingering kiss.

  “You be careful.”

  Her lips were warm. Soft. A sensual delight. Lust blasted through him, but the second his hands lifted to grab the aggravating female, she was turning to disappear back down the hallway.

  Shit.

  It was always the same.

  She teased him with the promise of paradise, only to snatch it away.

  He stomped out of the house and down the stairs of the terrace. What he needed was a vacation. A hot beach with plenty of sunshine. And bikini-clad women who didn’t make him want things that were constantly out of his reach.

  Once in
the driveway, Mike forced himself to halt and turn toward the garage that was set at the side of the house. Rylan had told him that Jarrod Walker had confessed to meeting with Anne Dixon in the nearby woods. And that she’d used a gate behind the garage to slip away for her lovers’ trysts.

  From where he was standing he couldn’t see the gate. And since Loreen had already called in her high-priced lawyer, there was no way he was going to be allowed to search the property without a warrant.

  That didn’t mean he couldn’t take a minute to mentally note that anyone on the second floor of the house could easily see over the top of the garage.

  Anne Dixon’s affair might not have been as secret as she assumed.

  Returning to Heron at breakneck speed, Mike called to leave a message with Sid to meet him at the office. Then, finding Jarrod waiting for him in the interview room, he focused on grilling the older man on his relationship with Anne Dixon.

  After an hour, he sent Jarrod home, warning him not to leave the area.

  He truly didn’t believe that Jarrod was responsible. But he would be a fool not to keep him on the suspect list. Who else had better opportunity to kill Anne?

  Needing a few minutes to clear his head, Mike headed into his office and flopped onto his chair. He closed his eyes, trying to sort through the information that Jarrod had given him. He was desperate to find anything that would lead him in the direction of the killer.

  But instead his treacherous thoughts returned to Payton’s worried expression, and the feel of her mouth pressed against his lips. Even now the taste of her lingered.

  It wasn’t until the door was pushed open and Sid stepped into the office that he was able to banish the aggravating woman from his mind.

  “You wanted to see me?” the deputy asked.

  “Sit down.”

  Sid rocked from side to side. His nervous habit was more pronounced than usual.

  “I—”

  Mike stabbed a finger toward the seat across from his desk. “Sit. Down.”

  “Shit. You spoke to my uncle.” Sid moved to settle on the wooden chair, his shoulders slumped. “I thought I saw his truck pulling out of the lot.”

  Mike leaned his elbows on the desk, glaring at the man whom he trusted for the past four years.

  “Can you give me one reason why I shouldn’t fire your ass right now?”

  Sid grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? You deliberately withheld a witness in an ongoing investigation.”

  Sid’s expression became defensive. “I know my uncle. He couldn’t possibly have hurt Anne Dixon.”

  “That would have been my first assumption as well. But the fact that you made an effort to cover up his relationship with her makes him look guilty.”

  His lips parted, as if he intended to excuse his decision. Then, seeing Mike’s clenched jaw, he heaved a rueful sigh.

  “I wasn’t thinking.”

  Mike bit back his angry response. What was done was done. He couldn’t change his deputy’s poor decisions; he could only hope that he could find some silver lining.

  “Did you go to the shed where your uncle was supposed to meet Anne?” he asked.

  Sid hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “Yeah. I wanted to check and see if Anne had left a note that Jarrod missed. Or if there were any signs of an intruder.”

  “What did you see?”

  “There was a narrow bed and some gardening equipment stacked in a corner.”

  “Nothing suspicious?”

  Sid shook his head. “Nope. No note, no trash thrown in the can. No sign that Anne had been there.” He shrugged. “And I couldn’t see any footprints except my uncle’s coming from the bottom of the hill.”

  Mike templed his fingers beneath his chin. “Anne didn’t reach the shed?”

  “Not that I could see, but I didn’t go there until the day after Anne disappeared, so it’s possible the rains could have washed away any potential evidence.”

  It seemed doubtful that the rains would wash away Anne’s footprints, but leave Jarrod’s.

  “Did you notice anything?”

  “I walked up to the gate that opens into the Hamilton estate.”

  “And?”

  “It’d been left open.”

  Mike tensed. The fact the gate was open could mean that Anne had gone out and had been instantly attacked. Or someone had come into the estate and forgotten to close the gate.

  Or, that someone at the house had attacked Anne and carried her out the gate to hide her in the woods until they could drive her to a remote location and dump her body.

  “Anything else?”

  “No.” Sid nervously shifted in his seat. “What’s going to happen to me?”

  Mike took a long time to consider his answer. When he’d first learned that his own deputy had been tampering with a murder investigation, he’d been determined to fire him on the spot. How could he ever trust him again?

  Now, he’d calmed down. Okay, maybe he wasn’t calm. But he’d at least leashed his anger enough to know that now wasn’t the time to consider such drastic measures.

  “Starting immediately, you’re going to take your vacation days.”

  Sid swallowed hard. “Then what?”

  “I’ll decide after this investigation is over.” Mike planted his palms flat on the desk as he leaned forward. “Until then, I don’t want to see you anywhere near this office. Got it?”

  “Yeah. I got it.”

  Sid rose to his feet. As he turned toward the door, Mike thought he caught a glimpse of something in his deputy’s eyes.

  Embarrassment. Anger. Maybe frustration.

  He shook his head, rolling his tense shoulders. A problem for another day, he decided as Sid left the office at the same time that Carol walked in.

  The middle-aged woman gave a lift of her brows as Sid swept past her without speaking.

  “Trouble?” she asked, closing the door to ensure their conversation wouldn’t be overheard.

  Carol’s discretion was only one of her many skills, but the one that Mike depended on the most. She was one of the few people he knew he could use as a sounding board when he was ready to smash a few heads together.

  “Remind me why I ever wanted to be sheriff,” he said.

  She pretended to consider. “Hm. I got nothing.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You do look handsome in that uniform.”

  His lips twisted. “I’m glad someone thinks so.”

  Carol tilted her head to the side, not missing the sharp edge in his voice.

  “You know, Jaci Patterson is a nice, pretty, young woman.”

  Mike arched a brow. Carol had been hinting that he needed a good, solid woman in his life for years. Ever since he’d broken up with Payton.

  The older woman never bothered to hide her dislike for the Hamiltons.

  “She is,” he agreed.

  “The sort of woman a smart man snatches up before some poacher comes along and steals her.”

  Ah. So Carol had heard that Rylan Cooper was staking his claim on Jaci.

  “Very subtle,” he said.

  She heaved a long-suffering sigh. “You’re a good man, Mike O’Brien, but like all men you can be distracted by shiny baubles.”

  He held up his hand. “Don’t blame me. I did my best to convince Jaci that I’m the man she needs, but she slotted me into the friend role. We both know there’s no coming back from that.” He shrugged. “Besides, I don’t think she ever got over her feelings for Cooper.”

  Carol clicked her tongue. “I thought that girl had more sense.”

  Mike smiled. He appreciated the woman’s loyalty, but he couldn’t let her blame Jaci.

  “No,” he said. “I’ll admit that I like Jaci, and I hoped we could make something of our relationship. But if I’m being honest, there were never going to be fireworks.”

  She gave a sharp laugh. “Listen to the advice of a woman who’s been married three times. Fireworks aren’t all they’re cra
cked up to be.” She wagged her finger at him. “What you need is to find someone who’s in it for the long haul.”

  The image of Payton seared through his mind. It was doubtful that she would be in it for the long haul. At least not with him. But he didn’t doubt that there would be plenty of fireworks.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He reached up to massage the tense muscles of his neck. Yet another problem he’d deal with later. “Did you need something?”

  Resisting the urge to continue her chastisement on his love life—or rather, his lack of a love life—Carol nodded.

  “The medical examiner’s office called while you were out.”

  Mike stilled, instantly back in cop mode. “Did they leave a message?”

  “The blood on the locket that was found at Jaci’s house was the same type as Anne Dixon,” she said, confirming what the tech had already told him. “The DNA hasn’t come back yet.”

  Mike nodded. He didn’t need the DNA. He was already convinced the bastard had killed Anne and used her blood and hair to create his creepy locket.

  “Anything else?”

  “The preliminary cause of death was strangulation, but there was a wound on the back of her head that was consistent with blunt force trauma.” Carol was forced to halt and clear her throat. She’d worked in the sheriff’s office for years, but none of them were accustomed to talking about their neighbors in terms of strangulation and blunt force trauma. “They also said that she’d been dead at least forty-eight hours, although they don’t have a precise time of death yet.”

  He drummed his fingers on the top of his desk. “When did they call?”

  She glanced at the watch strapped around her wrist. “Two hours ago.”

  Which meant they must have started the autopsy on Anne almost as soon as she’d arrived at the facility.

  “That was quick,” he said.

  “They mentioned the fact that the governor had contacted them. They were told this case is a priority,” Carol said, giving a lift of her hands. “I’m assuming it was my charming personality that encouraged him to make the call.”

  Mike knew exactly who was responsible. “I’m guessing Cooper must have cashed in a few favors.”

  “Ah.” She pretended disappointment.

  He grabbed a pencil and scribbled the information on a piece of paper. It wasn’t that he was going to forget, but seeing things written down sometimes helped to clarify his thoughts. “No word on the Jane Doe?”