exposed (Twisted Cedar Mysteries Book 3)

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exposed (Twisted Cedar Mysteries Book 3) Page 8

by C. J. Carmichael


  “Tell me this. If Ed doesn’t have Chester, then who the hell does? We don’t have another suspect.”

  “It’s still possible he’s a runaway and afraid to come home.” Wade hesitated, then added, “He could have had an accident as well.”

  “Chester’s a smart kid. I can’t see him doing anything too stupid.”

  “Well, we did follow up on a lead from Cory. She claimed she saw Chester talking to the football coach on Monday. So I just paid Brad Scott a visit.”

  “I remember that bozo. Why would he want to talk to Chester?”

  “He claims he didn’t. But I’m not sure I believe him. The man’s life is in turmoil, he seems really stressed. Sometimes the end of a marriage and restricted access to children can send a man off the deep end.”

  “If he has a propensity for pedophilia, he might have acted on it in the past.”

  “He has no record. If he ever crossed that boundary with any of his students, no one ever reported it.”

  “So if his conversation with Chester was innocent, why is he denying it?”

  “It’s possible Cory was confused and Chester was approached by someone else. I have a photograph I’m going to take over to Charlotte’s place later. See if Cory can confirm Brad Scott was the coach she saw speaking to her brother. But even if it wasn’t Scott, there’s another angle to this story that has me suspicious.”

  Dougal was working on his fries now and a twinge of Wade’s original hunger stirred in his gut. Deciding it would be a shame to waste a free meal, he dipped some of his spiral fries into the ketchup.

  “So what’s the angle?”

  “Do you remember Daisy being friends with Brad’s wife Sharleen when they were younger?”

  “When I think of Sharleen, all I remember are her huge boobs. Sorry, I guess that’s sexist, but it’s the truth.”

  “She’s into fitness now. Skinny as a model, only with more muscles.”

  “You talking about Sharleen Scott?” Mia was back, this time with a couple of complementary draft beers. “She teaches Zumba classes in the Anglican church basement on Monday, Wednesday and Friday.”

  “You go to those classes Mia?” Wade asked.

  She looked at him incredulously. “You do remember I have four preschoolers, right? My mom is willing to babysit so I can work. But even that is getting too much for her.”

  “But you knew she taught the classes...” Wade wanted to keep her talking.

  “Working in a pub, I learn a lot of stuff that isn’t relevant to my own life.”

  “You were just a few years younger than us in high school,” Dougal said. “Do you remember Daisy Hammond and Sharleen being friends?”

  “More like rivals. They were both crazy about Kyle Quinpool.”

  Wade hadn’t expected that. “But Sharleen started dating Brad in her junior year.”

  “Yeah, he was older, a big football star. You’d have expected him to be the best catch in town. But he wasn’t nearly as good-looking as Kyle. Not half as charming, either.” Mia sighed. “Not that either quality proved much help to Kyle in the end. It’s so tragic the way things have turned out for him and his kids.”

  “Not to mention Daisy,” Wade felt obliged to point out. She was, after all, the one who was dead.

  “True. She was so pretty. And so good at getting whatever she wanted. At least until the twins were born. Motherhood was a rude shock to that woman.”

  “She suffered from post-partum psychosis,” Wade pointed out. “Her behavior at that time wasn’t her fault.” Back in the day, Wade, Dougal, Kyle and Daisy had been close friends and he felt obliged to defend her.

  “Yeah, well if I told Sean I was sleeping with another man because I had post-partum psychosis, I don’t think he would be impressed.”

  Dougal’s brows shot up. He glanced at Wade, then back at Mia. “You saying Daisy had an affair?”

  Mia gave a knowing, slightly smug, nod.

  No doubt being a purveyor of secrets was one of the pleasures of her job. But before Wade could give her the satisfaction of asking who the man in question was, Dougal had taken the required leap in logic.

  “It was Brad Scott, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes. And trust me, Sharleen and Daisy weren’t friends at all after that.”

  * * *

  “Is Chester dead?”

  The question dug into Charlotte’s heart like a burr, with a pain that grew worse the more you probed. She set down her fork and looked across the table at the little girl who’d asked it.

  Cory’s head was lowered over her plateful of spaghetti—food she hadn’t touched, even though it was her favorite meal.

  “No.” Honesty compelled Charlotte to add, “I don’t believe so.”

  “But he’s been gone a long time.”

  “Chester’s pretty angry about your father being in prison. Maybe he’s still too mad to come home.” This might be the best-case scenario at the moment, but despite Dougal’s theory that his father had abducted him, Charlotte still clung to the possibility that Chester was a runaway with hope if not optimism.

  “Mrs. Field says everyone in Twisted Cedars has been looking for him, including the sheriff and all the police. If he was hiding I think someone would have found him by now.”

  “True a lot of people are looking for your brother. But Chester’s a smart kid. Could be he found a really good hiding spot.”

  “Maybe.”

  The word came out flat, devoid of hope.

  Charlotte realized she shouldn’t be surprised. After all, what basis did Cory have to expect a good outcome from this latest catastrophe in her life? Cory had been so young when she lost her mother. Then, months after her father remarried and it seemed she was going to be a part of a “regular” family, her mother’s body had been found, and her father—the only parent she’d ever really known—sent to prison.

  This kid’s life had been one disaster after another.

  And when she’d ended up in Charlotte’s care, what had Charlotte done? She’d farmed the kids out to an after-school sitter so she could continue to work at her beloved library.

  It was a decision Charlotte now bitterly regretted.

  If she’d thought more about the kids, and less about herself, she would have given the mayor her resignation, and devoted herself to the wellbeing of her sister’s children. Charlotte had no doubt that if she’d been less selfish, Chester would still be here, and Cory would be chatting with her mouth full, as usual, instead of looking like she had nothing left to live for.

  But she couldn’t say any of that to Cory.

  And even if she could, it wouldn’t help.

  If only she could convince Cory to eat, at least. “Not very hungry, huh? How about some milk?” Charlotte nudged the glass closer to her niece and felt a small measure of satisfaction when Cory took a couple of sips.

  “I bet Chester’s really hungry right now.”

  “He might be.” It was better than speculating he was dead. “Or maybe he’s hiding in someone’s summer cabin and he’s found a whole bunch of potato chips and sodas the owners left in their cupboards.”

  Cory’s lips twitched slightly. “At night he’s probably sleeping in the biggest bed. And watching all their DVDs.”

  Charlotte left her chair and went to give Cory a hug. “We have to imagine the best right now, honey. It doesn’t help Chester at all, if we only think about the bad things.”

  “But—”

  The front door opened and Dougal called out, “Hello? Charlotte you in here?”

  “Back in the kitchen.”

  She could hear footsteps on the plank flooring. Sounded like more than one person. Sure enough, Dougal appeared with Wade in his wake.

  “I’ve got the sheriff with me.”

  That sounded official. She held her breath as she studied first one man’s face, then the other’s.

  “Hey Charlotte. Cory.” Wade sounded—and looked—exhausted. “I’m here to ask some questions.”


  Charlotte suspected he was still in the uniform he’d been wearing yesterday when she’d reported Chester missing.

  “You guys okay?” Dougal came to her, brushed back her hair so he could kiss her cheek.

  The concern in his eyes made her want to cry. He was being so sweet to her, when she knew how tough the past few days had been on him. She mustered a small smile.

  “We’re all right. Can I get you guys anything?” She pointed to the bowl of spaghetti Bolognese on the table. “We’ve got plenty of food.”

  Her offer was quickly declined.

  “With your permission, I’d like to show Cory a couple photos,” Wade said.

  A disorienting memory flashed before Charlotte, of another time Wade had stood in this room with her. They’d been talking about the future of their relationship and whether they’d be able to remain friends after he’d asked her to marry him, and she’d turned him down. Funny how something that had seemed so important then, could feel almost trivial now.

  In the face of Chester’s disappearance, nothing else seemed to matter.

  “Sure, if you think it will help. But what’s the picture of?”

  “First one is Brad Scott, the high school football coach. He’s the only football coach in town, but I need to confirm he was the man Cory saw talking to Chester last week.”

  Charlotte took one of her niece’s hands. “You okay to look at the picture, Cory?”

  “Yes.” Cory’s voice was so quiet only Charlotte heard her.

  “You can show her the picture.”

  Wade nodded, before stepping forward and laying the photo on the table beside Cory’s almost full glass of milk. “Is this the man you saw talking to your brother, Cory?”

  After just one quick glance, her niece frowned. “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “This man is fat. The coach who talked to Chester was sort of regular sized.” She turned to Dougal. “Like him.”

  Wade was expressionless as he removed the photo. “Thanks Cory. How about this man? Does he look like the guy?”

  Charlotte looked over Cory’s head at a mug shot of a man who had to be Dougal’s father, Ed Lachlan.

  “No,” Cory said, sounding less certain this time. “That’s not him either.”

  “Okay.” Wade smiled, as if the answers had been just what he was hoping for. “Thanks Cory. You’ve been really helpful.”

  Charlotte glanced from him to Dougal, desperate to understand what this meant. Was it good or bad?

  After a fruitless effort to coax her niece into eating more of her dinner, Charlotte gave Cory permission to watch TV in the family room. Cory scooted off, thankfully.

  When she was certain Cory couldn’t hear her, Charlotte rounded on the two men. “What does this mean?”

  “We can be pretty sure it wasn’t Brad Scott who talked to Chester on Monday,” Wade said. “But it’s still possible it was Ed Lachlan. This is an old photo, plus it seems Ed is talented at disguising his appearance.”

  “If it was,” Dougal continued, “he might have pretended to be a football coach in order to earn Chester’s trust and establish a bond with him—to make abducting him a few days later that much easier.”

  Charlotte folded her arms in front of her chest, digging her nails into the soft skin of her forearms. It was so hard to believe the man who was Dougal’s father was capable of such evil. “So Brad Scott is off the suspect list.”

  “Probably,” Wade said. “Though he does have a surprising connection to the Quinpool family, so I’m not totally discounting him.”

  “What is the connection?”

  Succinctly Wade gave her the highlights of his interview with Scott, his subsequent conversation with Scott’s wife Sharleen, and then Mia O’Brian’s comments from the Linger Longer just moments ago.

  Charlotte couldn’t believe what this was adding up to. “So you think my sister had an affair with Brad Scott?”

  “So far it hasn’t been substantiated, but Mia sounded pretty certain,” Wade said. “And if it was true, then it’s possible Brad was still in love with Daisy, blamed Kyle for her death, and wanted to hurt Kyle by going after his son.”

  It sounded like a viable theory, but Charlotte was still in shock about her sister having an affair. “This is the first I’ve ever heard that Daisy cheated on Kyle.”

  “We only have Mia’s gossip to go on,” Dougal was quick to point out.

  “I’ll going to bring both Brad and Sharleen in for interviews,” Wade said. “And then I’m going to drive out to the prison and talk to Kyle.”

  Charlotte had been thinking about Kyle a lot today. Whatever his faults, he did love his children. This situation had to be hell for him, too. “I assume he’s been told about Chester going missing?”

  “Yes,” Wade replied.

  “He must be going crazy.” Charlotte had never liked her sister’s husband much—mainly because he’d kept her at arms’ length from her niece and nephew for so many years—but she did feel sorry for him now. She could imagine how helpless he would feel, finding out his son was missing and being unable to do anything to help find him.

  “Yeah, I imagine. His father told me he was driving up to Salem for a visit with Kyle today. I might just stop in and talk to Jim tonight, as well. See what he has to say about this alleged affair of Daisy’s.”

  “I appreciate all you’re doing Wade. Can I at least make you a cup of coffee before you go?”

  “Thanks for the offer, but we’ve got a pot on the go twenty-four-seven at the office. And I should get moving.”

  Charlotte walked him to the back door, putting a hand on his arm and repeating her thanks. “I’d be going even crazier right now if I didn’t know this investigation is in your hands.”

  “I won’t stop until we find him,” Wade promised.

  But he didn’t, couldn’t, promise Chester would be okay when it happened.

  chapter ten

  When Charlotte returned to the kitchen she found Dougal had put on a fresh pot of coffee.

  “Hope you don’t mind. That stuff they have at the sheriff’s department is swill.”

  “Are you going back there tonight?”

  For an answer, Dougal held out his phone so she could see the screen. A new message had arrived from Librarian Momma: “Chapter two was good. Ready to work on the next one?”

  “Why don’t you put him off until the morning?” She brushed her hand over the lines on Dougal’s forehead. Communicating so intensively with the father he hated, was taking a toll. Plus, he had to be exhausted. Neither of them had been able to sleep much last night.

  “I can’t. I have to write this book as fast as humanly possible.”

  She swallowed at the grim look in his eyes. If Lachlan did have Chester, then he wouldn’t let the boy go until he had what he wanted—the finished book. “Oh, Dougal. Don’t most books take months, even years to write?”

  “I’m going to set a new world record with this one,” Dougal promised.

  Then he drew her into his arms, and she let her head drop to his shoulder. It felt so nice to be held. But even as she sighed and relaxed into his arms, her thoughts veered to Chester. There would be no one holding her nephew tonight, making him feel safe.

  And even if Dougal gave Lachlan the book he wanted, the man was a vicious murderer. Could they count on him to keep his word and let Chester go?

  Gently she disengaged from the embrace and went to get a travel mug from the cupboard. As she filled it with the freshly brewed coffee she asked, “Do you think there’s a chance Wade might be right and Brad Scott is behind Chester’s disappearance?”

  “I suppose it’s possible. I can see why Wade wants to investigate further.”

  Which alternative would be safer for Chester—Ed Lachlan or Brad Scott? It was a no win scenario. She had to keep praying the answer was neither, that Chester was hiding somewhere, perfectly safe. But as each hour went by, that option seemed less likely.

  “This is all
my fault for not quitting my job and staying home with the twins.”

  “Hey. Stop that. Don’t blame yourself.”

  “How can I not? When I think of all they’ve been through in their short lives, it just about kills me.”

  “Yes, it’s unfair. And hard. But I can’t see how any of it was your fault. Just the fact that you were willing to step in as their guardian makes you a damn good person in my opinion.”

  “It was the right thing to do. And it was what I wanted, of course.”

  “Maybe. But it wasn’t easy. So don’t you beat yourself up. Working parents all across America rely on after school care for their children.”

  “Yes. But maybe I should have hired an older child to escort them from school to Nola Thompson’s house.”

  “It’s only a few blocks, and the Thompson kids walk it all the time. If Chester was kidnapped, then whoever did it was going to find a way.”

  “You don’t think there’s a chance he’s a runaway, do you?”

  Dougal didn’t meet her eyes. “I guess it’s possible.”

  But she could hear in his voice that he didn’t. “Be honest with me.”

  “I don’t want to take away your hope. It’s just—I have this really strong feeling that my old man took him. And until I find out otherwise, I have to keep writing that damn book as if Chester’s life depends on me finishing as quickly as possible.”

  She wished she could relieve Dougal of this burden. But he was right. “Thank you. I know this is extremely tough on you.”

  “I’ve interviewed lots of criminals and murderers for my books. It’s different when it’s someone who’s related to you, though. Who shares your DNA.”

  “Only fifty percent of your DNA,” she reminded him, following him to the front door where he paused to kiss her.

  “I’ll check in with you in a few hours,” he promised.

  She hated to see the bleak expression in his eyes.

  “Don’t let him get to you. His sins are not yours.”

  Dougal nodded, but she could tell her words didn’t really reach him.

  * * *

  On the short drive to Jim Quinpool’s apartment, Wade reflected on what he knew of the man. He’d been a protective, somewhat indulgent father to his only child, Kyle, as well as an influential member of Twisted Cedar’s business community. Not only did Jim own the most successful real estate business in the area, but he had also been active with the Chamber of Commerce.

 

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