by Lynn Shannon
“I suppose. It’s easier in Houston. No one knows who I am or who Wade is, unless I tell them.”
She turned on Hill, probably to avoid Main Street and more townspeople. Huge elm trees lined the wide street and the shouts of children from the nearby park carried on the wind. They ducked into the alley behind the Clip and Curl.
A few minutes later, Kyle joined them. He’d traded his white lab coat for a leather jacket and, judging from the black boots accented with chains on his feet, was still fond of riding his motorcycle as much as the weather permitted.
“Is it true?” he asked, without preamble. “Is it possible Wade is innocent?”
“It’s what we’re trying to determined,” Luke said. “Why? Would it surprise you if he was?”
“I…I don’t know. I had a hard time believing Wade killed Franny. They had a good friendship. I mean, they flirted, but it never struck me as anything serious. Then he confessed, so that changed things.”
“Have you noticed anyone lingering around June’s property in the past couple of weeks?”
Kyle’s gaze skittered away, and he shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Nope.”
“You sure?” Luke had the faintest sensation Kyle wasn’t being honest. “It might not have been recently. Could’ve been even as far back as a couple of months.”
“Naw. There are a lot of woods separating our properties, so it’d be hard for me to keep track of the comings and goings at June’s house.”
Megan frowned. “Wade said he gave you a lift home from the party that night and along the way, Franny called to say she’d found his cell phone. Is that true?”
“Yeah. He arranged to go back to her place to pick it up after dropping me off.” Kyle shifted his weight back and forth. “Listen, Megs, there’s something you should know.”
“What?”
“About ten minutes after Wade dropped me, I got a phone call from Franny. She didn’t say anything, but I could hear voices. At the time, I figured she’d butt-dialed me or something, and I hung up. It wasn’t until later I realized the significance of what I’d heard. Someone else was there with her that night.”
“How can you be sure someone was there?” Luke asked. “Maybe it was the television.”
“No, it was definitely a person and they were having a conversation. I know the difference.”
It would’ve taken a good twenty minutes for Wade to get back to Franny’s house after dropping Kyle off, even if he floored it. It couldn’t have been Wade she was talking to.
“Was it a man or a woman?” he asked.
“It sounded like a man, but I can’t be sure. The voices were muffled.” He shifted his weight again. “I told Dan about it right after the murder, and then June came to my house asking all kinds of questions. I told her too. Other than that, no one else knows. When Wade confessed, I was surprised. I’d convinced myself I must’ve been mistaken about what I heard that night. But with these attacks…now everything is different. Maybe Wade is innocent after all.”
Eleven
Kyle’s revelation plagued Luke for the next day and a half. Knowing someone was with Franny near the time of her murder didn’t prove Wade’s innocence, but it was significant. The more Luke dug into the case, the deeper his doubts went.
Weston leaned back in his chair and it groaned. “Any idea who was with Franny on the night of her murder?”
“None,” Luke said.
It was lunchtime, and the Medina County Sheriff’s Department was bustling with activity. The door of the conference room was cocked open and, a riot of laughter came from a small group of deputies gathered around a pizza box on someone’s desk.
Megan frowned. “Maybe we shouldn’t discuss this with the door open.”
“Good point.” Luke got up and shut it. “I had troopers recanvass the neighbors around the lake, but no one remembers anything. We also questioned a few of Franny’s girlfriends, but they confirmed everyone left the party around the same time.”
“We don’t even know whether it was a man or a woman,” Megan added. “So the information is helpful, because it proves someone else was there, but narrowing it down will be difficult.”
Weston eyed the table covered in documents and photographs. “What is all of this?”
“It’s Franny Dickerson’s case file.”
“Why is it such a mess?”
Megan blew a strand of hair out of her face and pushed down on a hole punch. It squeaked in protest. “When we opened the boxes, it looked like someone had dumped all the pages on the floor before shoving them back inside and closing the lid.”
Weston’s eyes widened, and he shared a look with Luke. Neither man said anything, but they didn’t have to. They’d worked with enough departments to recognize potential trouble.
“It took us all afternoon yesterday just to put it in some kind of order,” Megan continued. She placed the pages in a binder and added a divider. “Today, we’re working on making copies.”
“What news do you have?” Luke asked.
“Well, your mysterious caller, Megan, used a prepaid phone,” Weston declared. “Not much of a surprise there. I got a warrant to ping the phone to come up with a general location, but it’s been turned off. Chances are the person bought it for this purpose and only turns it on to make a call.”
Luke frowned. Identifying the woman through her phone had been a long shot, but it was still frustrating to hit another brick wall.
Megan pushed down on the hole punch and it squeaked again. “So there’s no way to find out who she is?”
“Not at the moment. Record the call next time. That would give us her voice to analyze.”
Luke punched his own set of sheets and tucked them into a binder. “What about the key we found on June’s key ring? Any luck there?”
“I’m afraid not.” Weston scowled. “I even expanded the search to any storage unit within a four hundred-mile radius. None of them use a key like the one June had.”
“What else could it be for?” Megan asked.
“Well, I had someone at the lab take a look. The key could be for almost anything. The lock it goes to is commonly sold at hardware stores.”
The conference room door opened and Cindy bustled in. The sheriff had hired his niece as his secretary after she finished college several years ago. Her ash-blonde hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail and her floral dress was feminine and understated. Cindy was young but ran the office with graceful efficiency.
She set a neat stack of papers down on the table. “Okay, here’s the final batch of interviews. The copier has been on the fritz and the repairman just arrived, so I’ll take a small break while he looks at the machine.”
“Thank you, Cindy.” Megan lifted the hole punch. “And I hate to ask, but if you get a chance, can you rustle up another one of these? This one is on its last leg.”
“Sure thing. If you need anything else, give a holler.”
She closed the door gently behind her.
Megan reached across Luke to shift the new pages closer to her and he caught a whiff of her honeysuckle perfume. The soft pink sweater brought out the color in her cheeks and made her green eyes shimmer like emeralds. Her arm brushed across his knuckles. Luke’s pulse jumped, and he moved back to give her more room.
“So…” Weston wagged his eyebrows. “As happy as I am to give you folks an update, this is all stuff we coulda talked about on the phone. Luke, you mentioned you needed to have something delivered to the lab?”
“Yeah.” He went to the end of the table and found the right evidence bag. “These are the bullets used to kill Franny. They were never sent to the state lab for testing because Wade confessed. I’m hoping we can get good striations.”
“But the gun used to shoot her was never found,” Megan said.
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean we won’t find it. There’s also a possibility Franny’s killer has used the gun in another crime. If we’re lucky, the striations from these bull
ets will be in the database.”
When bullets were shot, the barrel of the gun created grooves and nicks also known as striations. They were as unique as a fingerprint. Luke hoped they could lead to a suspect.
“You called me on a good day. I was heading to the lab with evidence on another case I’m investigating.” Weston checked his watch. “I’d better get a move on.”
Megan smiled sweetly. “You mean, you don’t want to stay and help us with all of this?”
“I’d love to, doll, but paperwork and I are like oil and vinegar.” He picked up the evidence bag before tipping his hat and flashing his dimples. “Besides, who would get your bullets to the lab?”
Doll? Luke shot his friend a glare, but Weston’s smile only widened. Oh, it was on.
“Megs, did I ever tell you the story about how Weston tried to subdue a subject with pepper spray and ended up hitting another trooper instead?”
Her mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”
“Yep.” Luke grinned. “He followed that doozy up a day later by getting locked out of his patrol car.”
Weston glowered, but there was no real heat behind it. “In my defense, I had the flu that week.”
“That’s a good excuse.” Megan pressed her lips together, probably smothering a chuckle. “How long did it take before the trooper you pepper-sprayed talked to you again?”
“It only took a week because he got revenge. At a training seminar, they needed a volunteer to be zapped by a Taser. He told the whole class about what I’d done. Guess who ended up being the guinea pig.”
They all laughed. Weston tipped his hat to Megan one more time before they went into the bullpen to handle paperwork for the evidence transfer. Luke walked him out to the parking lot.
“Megan’s nice. And smart,” Weston said. “Ain’t too bad on the eyes either—”
“If you don’t want to be kissing the concrete, I’d stop right there.”
Weston chuckled. “Don’t get all riled up. I just understand why you put a ring on her finger.”
Any man in his right mind would. He nearly said the words aloud before catching himself. Nope, he wasn’t going down that road. Still, a sharp pang struck his chest at the thought of Megan married to someone else.
Weston pinched his lips together and scanned the parking lot. It was empty. His fellow ranger took a step closer to him. “What’s with the evidence being all messed up?”
“I don’t know yet. Could be a simple mistake…” Luke tucked his hands in his pockets. “Still, I’m not sure everyone in the sheriff’s department is on our side. The real question is why?”
Megan paused from fighting with the hole punch and stretched her cramped muscles. The window in the conference room overlooked the parking lot, and she glimpsed Luke talking with Weston.
Both of the rangers were handsome, but her gaze lingered on her ex. She rarely had a chance to look at him when he wasn’t aware. Her eyes trailed over his broad shoulders, the strength in his hands, the cut of his jaw. Luke wore authority—even while in casual conversation—like a second skin, but there was no hint of arrogance. It was a simple confidence, as natural as breathing, and it was as attractive to her now as it had been when they first met.
She needed to be careful. Returning home had cracked open a door she’d thought was closed and bolted long ago. She couldn’t allow herself to fall back in love with Luke. Too many complications and too much hurt existed between them for it to ever work.
Megan tucked the last of the reports into the binder and scanned them. The one she was looking for wasn’t there. She flipped through all the sheets again, just to be sure, before stepping out of the conference room.
The door to Sheriff Franklin’s office was open. He looked up from a document when she approached, peering at her over the tops of the reading glasses perched on his nose. “You looking for me?”
She pointed to the desk right outside his office. “Cindy actually.”
“Try the copier room. That’s where she was when I saw her last.”
She turned and went down the hall. Voices filtered out of the last room along with the heavenly scent of pulled pork and barbecue sauce. Megan’s stomach growled. It was well past lunchtime. She rounded the corner, surprised to find Lieutenant Granger hugging Cindy.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Her gaze skittered away as she tried to back out of the room. “I’ll—”
“No, no, Megs. It’s okay.” Brent released Cindy and lifted the takeout bag in his hand. “I brought my wife her favorite lunch and she can’t stop herself from thanking me.”
“I didn’t know the two of you were married. How did I miss that?”
“You’ve been out of touch with things around Cardin. Not that I blame you.” Color rose high in Cindy’s cheeks, and she flashed her wedding band. “Tomorrow is our one-year anniversary.”
“Congratulations to both of you. That’s lovely. Well, now I feel worse for popping in and ruining a romantic moment.”
“Don’t be silly. We’re at work.” She shoved her husband slightly. “Not the time or the place to be canoodling with my husband.”
“Anytime is a good time to canoodle with your husband.” Brent laughed and hitched up his duty belt. “Were you looking for me, Megan? Or my lovely wife?”
“Cindy. I’ve been through all the copies you gave me, but there seems to be some interviews missing.”
“Are you sure? Which one are you looking for?”
Megan didn’t pause. “Skeeter McIntyre.”
Her palms were sweaty, but she resisted the urge to wipe them against her pants. Not while Cindy and Brent were both looking at her. Heaven help her, she almost never lied, but it didn’t seem smart to mention it was actually Chad Dickerson’s interview that was missing.
“How strange.” Cindy put a finger to her lips as she glanced over her shoulder at the stack of papers on the table next to the copier. “I’m certain I pulled all the interviews out when I organized everything. Brent, is it possible there’s another box down in storage?”
“I suppose so. I don’t remember how many we ended up with.”
“Come on, Megan.” Cindy grabbed a set of keys from the table. “Let’s go look.”
They walked down the hall, taking a turn past the break room. Cindy unlocked a door and fluorescent lights flickered on. Rows upon rows of metal shelves lined the space, filled to the brim with boxes.
“Wow,” Megan said. “That’s a lot for such a small county.”
“It’s all the cases going back to the 1900s. Plus we share storage space with the courthouse, so there are a lot of duplicates.” Cindy’s heels clipped against the cement floor. “For a while, we were working with the Historical Society and digitizing our old files. That’s what Franny was hired to do. When she died… well, the project was abandoned. I think my uncle and the chief deputy didn’t have the heart to find a replacement.”
“It seems everyone really liked Franny.”
“They did. She was sweet and thoughtful. Franny was a couple of years behind me in school, so I didn’t know her very well until she started working here. I was suspicious at first—I figured Uncle Robert had only hired her because of her family connections—but Franny won me over. She loved history, especially when it came to the town.”
The more Megan learned about Franny, the more she liked her and the more emotionally entrenched she became in the case. It wasn’t enough just to free her brother. She wanted to get justice for Franny too.
“Did you attend her birthday party?” Megan asked.
“Yeah, most of the department did. We all liked her. I drove my brother there, but I left early. That’s why Kyle had to get a ride with Wade home.”
The workings of a small town meant people were connected in more ways than one. Kyle was Wade’s best friend, but he was also the sheriff’s nephew and Cindy’s little brother.
“It should be right here.” Cindy tilted her head back, running a manicured finger along the middle shelf. She s
topped at an empty space big enough for several boxes. “Nope. I grabbed them all.”
Megan glanced around the towering shelves. “Is it possible it’s been misplaced?”
“I’d like to say no, but it wouldn’t be the first time. Let me run upstairs and double-check the records.” She hurried down the aisle. “Be back in a jiff.”
Silence descended. Being alone in the cavernous space was a bit creepy. Megan wrapped her arms around her middle, and ran her palms over her shirt sleeves to ward off goosebumps. Her tennis shoes made no sound as she walked the length of the shelf, scanning the boxes for any sign of the Dickerson name. If she was going to wait, she might as well be useful.
Footsteps echoed across the space and Megan froze. They were too heavy to be Cindy’s. The sound of boxes being shuffled followed. She poked her head out and glimpsed a brown uniform.
“Who’s there?” A familiar voice barked out.
Megan closed her eyes. Of all the bad luck… She stepped out from behind the shelf.
The chief deputy glared at her. “What are you doing down here?”
“I’m waiting for Cindy. She’s checking something on the computer.”
“She shouldn’t have left you by yourself,” Dan snapped. He moved closer. “You shouldn’t be here at all. You aren’t law enforcement and you have no business accessing our records.”
“I’m a part of Wade’s legal team. As such, I have the right to access Franny’s case file.”
“Not without a court order, you don’t.”
A technicality. Dan knew as well as she did, the court would order the sheriff’s department to turn over everything. Sheriff Franklin was just making things easier and speeding up the process. But something in Dan’s expression stopped the words from coming out of her mouth.
“You think you can come in here and insult me.” He scowled. “Dig through my case and cast a cloud over my good name.”
Dan stepped even closer. Megan stood her ground, even as her heart rate skyrocketed. She was trapped between shelves, the exit behind him. “Back off, Dan. I want to leave.”