by Lara Lacombe
“I didn’t say that,” Micah replied evenly. “Right now, I’m just asking questions.”
“Officer, if you’ve brought Mr. Larson in for a fishing expedition, I can tell you it’s a waste of time. And I will personally see to it that you are reprimanded for your actions.”
Micah ignored the man’s posturing and focused on Evan. “So, you don’t know Joey? Or should I say, you didn’t know Joey?”
Larson shrugged one shoulder. “That’s what I said.”
“What about his fiancée?”
“What about her?”
“It’s my understanding you had a relationship with her before she started dating Joey McBurn. Would you care to comment on that?”
Larson picked an invisible piece of lint off the cuff of his suit jacket. He was trying to appear calm and collected, but Micah saw the lines of strain around his eyes and knew he was worried. “What’s her name? I date a lot of women.”
“Angelina Cooper.”
Evan nodded slowly. “I think I remember her. She’s a waitress, right?”
Micah nodded. “She says that’s how you met.”
Larson leaned forward. “Yeah, it’s coming back to me now. We went out a few times. Had a little fun. But it didn’t go anywhere.”
“So you haven’t been in contact with her since the two of you stopped seeing each other?”
“Nope. I moved on to the next willing woman. I don’t stay lonely for long.” His grin was more of a leer that made Micah’s stomach turn.
Excitement thrummed in Micah’s veins as he opened the file folder. He retrieved a piece of paper and slid it across the table so Evan and his attorney could look at it. “Can you please explain why your phone number turned up in Ms. Cooper’s phone records over the last three weeks? I’ve marked each call in yellow to make it easier for you to see.”
Evan said nothing, but his eyes flared and a muscle in his jaw tensed. He glanced at his attorney, who shook his head.
“I’m just wondering why you said you haven’t had any contact with her when the records clearly show you have called her at least five times in the recent past.”
“This proves nothing,” Larson’s attorney said. He pushed the paper away with an expression of contempt. “All this shows is that my client’s phone was used to dial Ms. Cooper. You have no way to determine who actually made the call. It’s possible someone else was using Mr. Larson’s phone without his knowledge. Furthermore, none of the calls last longer than ten seconds, suggesting no conversation actually took place.”
Micah smiled indulgently. It was a bogus excuse, and they all knew it. Still, at least the man was earning his money today.
“What’s the nature of your relationship with Thad Randall?”
Evan leaned back, a glint of anger in his eyes. “I have no relationship with him.”
Micah nodded, pretending to accept that response. “I see.” He opened the file folder again, this time withdrawing the photos he’d taken of the two men in the park. “These were taken two days ago. Is that you?”
Larson didn’t even bother to look at the pictures. “Could be. Might also be my brother.”
“That’s possible,” Micah said. “Which is why we’re also questioning him right now, as well.”
Fear flashed in Evan’s gaze, there and gone in a second. But it was enough to tell Micah he was on the right track. Either Larson was worried he was going to go down for Thad’s murder, or he was scared of his brother’s response to being questioned. Which meant they both had something to hide.
“See, I’m thinking this is you,” Micah said, stabbing at the picture with his finger. “And I’m wondering what you and Thad were talking about. You both seem so serious.”
Larson didn’t reply, but his attorney spoke. “You haven’t established this is my client. Move on, please.”
Once again, Micah ignored the man. This was his show, and he wasn’t going to let some slick lawyer determine the course of his interrogation.
He kept quiet, watching Larson. He knew from experience that most people weren’t comfortable with silence, and would often start talking simply to fill the space. Many criminals had inadvertently implicated themselves or even confessed in their rush to speak. Maybe Micah would be so lucky today.
Evan shifted in his chair, his cool facade cracking a bit. He kept glancing at his attorney, and Micah got the impression that if the lawyer hadn’t been present, Larson would have had a lot to say.
Micah let him squirm a bit longer, enjoying the moment. Finally, Larson spoke. “We were in high school together. I just ran into him... I mean, if that’s even me in the photo.”
And there it is, Micah thought, satisfaction blooming in his chest.
“Mr. Larson, I think you should stop talking.” His attorney’s tone was urgent, but the damage had already been done.
“Just two old friends, was that it?”
Evan started to nod, but stopped when his lawyer touched his arm.
“Since you two were so close, I imagine it will upset you to learn Thad Randall was found dead yesterday afternoon.” Micah opened the folder again, this time withdrawing the photos from the backyard exhumation. He slid them across the table, keeping his eyes glued to Evan’s face.
He detected another flash of fear as Larson sucked in a breath. Micah gave Evan a moment to study the pictures, then leaned forward. “Now it’s time for you to tell me where you were and what you were doing yesterday morning.”
“You think I did this?” Larson tried to sound outraged, but he wasn’t convincing anyone.
Micah leaned back and shrugged. “Try to see it from my perspective. Two days ago, I saw you and Thad deep in conversation. Then yesterday I found Thad’s body buried in Joey McBurn’s backyard. The same Joey McBurn who was engaged to Angelina Cooper, a woman you used to date and are still calling, if the phone records are to be believed.”
Evan’s forehead glistened with a fine sheen of sweat. He thrust his hand into his jacket and withdrew a long leather wallet, which he unfolded. After a few seconds, he removed a slip of paper and tossed it on the table.
“The receipt from breakfast yesterday,” he said, sounding a little smug.
“Was it just you?” Micah asked. “How do I know it wasn’t your brother pretending to be you?”
Larson’s smile was triumphant. “We were both there.”
Damn. So much for that theory. Still, it didn’t mean Larson was in the clear. The medical examiner hadn’t finished examining the bodies yet—it was entirely possible Thad Randall had been killed the day before yesterday, which meant Evan’s alibi didn’t apply. And he wouldn’t put it past the man to hire out his dirty work...
“This is all very interesting,” said Larson’s attorney. “But I’m not seeing anything here that goes beyond coincidence.” He pushed back from the table, and after a second, Evan did the same.
Micah stood, as well, his frustration mounting. Unfortunately, Larson’s lawyer was right. Everything he had right now was circumstantial, at best. He’d been hoping Evan would incriminate himself, but his attorney had prevented that from happening.
“I assume we’re done here?” the lawyer asked.
“For now,” Micah said. He leaned forward to gather the phone records and photographs, tapping them neatly back into the file folder. “Don’t leave town, Evan. I might need to speak to you again.”
“Whatever you say, officer.” Larson’s tone was all sweetness and light, as if he was just another law-abiding citizen who was happy to assist in any way possible.
Micah watched the two men leave, anger building in his chest. It felt like this investigation was slipping through his fingers, and he had a sinking suspicion that the Teflon Twins were going to get away with murder.
He stepped into the hall to find Brayden standing there, watching Larson and his lawyer
leave. “Any luck?”
Micah shook his head. “Not really. It’s obvious Evan knows something, but his attorney is too smart to let him put his foot in it. You?”
Brayden sighed. “Same. Except Noel has enough self-control to conceal his reactions. I think they’re definitely involved in the murders of the two guys you found yesterday, but unless they slip up, I don’t know that we’ll be able to pin it on them.”
“Figures.” Would they ever catch a break?
He and Brayden set off for the main squad room, each man lost in his own thoughts. Micah noticed the message light on his desk phone was blinking, and he punched in the number to find the lab had news for him. After a quick call, he walked over to Brayden’s desk to give him the update.
“Evidence analysis on Tucker Frane is back,” he said, referring to the dead witness who claimed to have seen Demi shoot Joey McBurn.
“And?”
“No gunshot residue on his hands.”
“Damn,” Brayden muttered. “I knew it was a long shot to think he might be Joey’s killer, but I was still hopeful.”
“I know what you mean,” Micah said. “It would have been nice to close at least one case.”
Brayden cocked his head to the side, studying Micah. “You doing okay?”
Micah felt his shoulders stiffen involuntarily. “Yeah. Why?”
Brayden shrugged. “You seem a little...off this morning.”
Lack of sleep will do that to a man, Micah thought sarcastically. Last night had gone so well. Until it hadn’t, and Bea had left him sitting in the bed alone as dawn came creeping through the curtains.
You’re treating me like a child.
Her words echoed in his head, a relentless drumbeat he couldn’t escape.
His first instinct had been to deny it. Couldn’t she see he was trying to protect her from the ugliness in his world? That he didn’t want to expose her to all the darkness for no good reason?
It was difficult for him to understand why she was so upset, why she’d decided to ruin a perfectly nice evening with an argument. He’d spent hours trying to see things from her perspective, but he hadn’t been able to make the leap.
He’d hoped having Bea back in his life would help him deal with the stress of his job and his past, but that certainly wasn’t the case right now. Knowing that she was unhappy with him made his heart sink, but for the life of him, he didn’t know what to do to fix things. It was his nature to want to protect her, and he couldn’t simply ignore his instincts in order to appease her feelings.
“Yeah.” Micah sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. He glanced around to make sure they were alone. Bea was in the break room with Chunk, and the rest of the department was busy at their own desks. For all intents and purposes, he and Brayden were alone.
“It’s Bea,” he said, careful to keep his voice low.
“You guys back together?”
“I thought so. Now I’m not so sure. We had an argument last night.”
Brayden leaned back and put his feet on his desk. “You guys have been apart for a while. Maybe it’s just getting-to-know-you pains.”
Micah shook his head. “I don’t think so. She accused me of keeping things from her. Said I was treating her like a child because I don’t share everything with her.”
“Is she right?”
Micah pulled over a chair and sat. “Maybe. I don’t tell her all the details of work or my time in the army, but that’s because I don’t want her to hear about those terrible things. I’m sure she could handle it, but why should I expose her to that?”
Brayden nodded. “I hear you. I’d probably do the same thing if I was in a relationship.”
Micah threw his hands in the air. “Thank you. I’ve been stewing over this all morning, wondering if I was being unreasonable.”
“I don’t think you are,” Brayden said. “But, keep in mind, I haven’t had a ton of luck with women.”
Micah heard a snort behind him and turned to find Finn standing nearby. “Something you wanna add, chief?”
Finn chuckled softly. “I don’t think you want to hear my opinion.”
“No, come on. Lay it on me. You’re in a happy relationship. What’s your secret?”
Finn perched on the edge of Brayden’s desk and crossed his arms. “You really want to know? It’s not easy.”
“Chief, do you know what they do to you in Ranger school? I think I can handle it.”
Finn’s smile took on a condescending edge. “Communication.”
“Communication?” echoed Brayden.
“Yep. That’s the secret. You have to talk to each other.”
Micah frowned. “You’re saying you tell Darby everything about your day? Even the dark, unsavory parts?”
Finn shrugged. “I don’t give her a detailed play-by-play, but I tell her the gist of things, yeah. If I didn’t talk to her, I’d probably go mad.”
Micah was silent, considering the man’s words. Finally, he spoke. “I don’t know if I can do that.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out the best way to verbalize his thoughts. “I’ve spent so long keeping everything to myself. I’m not sure I can talk about things I’d really rather forget. Why put those memories in her head, when I hate having them in my own?”
“I can’t answer that,” Finn said, clapping him on the back. “But I know talking to Darby works for me. Maybe you and Bea will have to figure out another arrangement.”
The chief’s advice made sense, but Micah didn’t think Bea would accept anything less than full and open communication.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure that was something he could give her.
Chapter 17
Bea flipped the Closed sign over, displaying to one and all that the boutique was once again ready for business. Micah had asked if they could come to her store later in the day so that he could take the morning to interview Evan Larson. Figuring she didn’t have a long line of brides waiting for the shop to open, she’d agreed.
Micah had been nothing but pleasant to her this morning after she’d emerged from the guest bedroom. It was as if their earlier conversation hadn’t happened. But even though he was pretending everything was fine, she sensed a wall between them. She felt a separation now that hadn’t been there before. She had hoped that telling him her worries and her needs would help their relationship grow stronger, but instead they’d taken a step back.
Maybe several steps back.
She sighed quietly, glancing over at him with a subtle turn of her head. He was standing by the register counter, Chunk sitting patiently at his feet. She wanted to give him time to process what they had talked about, but she also wanted to know what he was thinking. If Micah couldn’t open up and really share with her, they didn’t have a future. And that was something she needed to know sooner rather than later. The more time they spent together, the longer they were around each other, the harder it would be for her to walk away.
She walked over to the counter, straightening dresses as she moved through the store. Micah pocketed his cell phone as she approached. “Mind if I step out for a few minutes? I figured I’d take Chunk to the park for a potty break, then grab us a couple of coffees on the way back. I’ll keep my eye on the store the whole time, but since it’s been quiet the last few days, I think you’ll be fine.”
“That sounds nice.” Bea said. She offered him a polite smile, playing along with the fiction that everything was fine between them. “I need to call a few more vendors, anyway.” She’d spent the morning in the squad’s break room while he interviewed Larson, chatting with suppliers about long-standing orders. Given the precarious state of her finances, she was having to make some tough calls about inventory and other accessories. She hated scaling back on the diversity of products she was able to offer to brides, but at the same time, she c
ouldn’t go bankrupt stocking the boutique with items no one was buying.
The tension drained from her muscles as soon as Micah left the store. She shouldn’t feel so anxious around the man she loved, damn it! But until they straightened things out between them, she was going to be walking on eggshells.
She’d just finished her first call when the bell over the door tinkled, announcing the arrival of a customer. Bea looked up to find Angelina Cooper, Joey’s fiancée, standing just inside the doorway. She looked a little lost, as if she didn’t quite know what she was doing.
Bea’s heart went out to the woman. It was clear her grief was taking a toll on her body; her face was lined, her hair limp and her shoulders slumped. But her eyes burned bright with an emotion Bea couldn’t quite place. Anger? Determination? Or something else?
“Angelina.” Bea walked over to the woman, her hand extended. “I’m so sorry for your loss. What can I do for you?”
Angelina met her gaze and reared back a little, as if surprised to see Bea in the store. “Oh!” She shook her head and cleared her throat. “I was just... I was in the neighborhood, and thought...” She blinked back tears and tried again. “I just wanted to see the room. Where he died. It was the last place he was alive, and I need to see it.”
Bea frowned. That didn’t sound like such a good idea to her, but what did she know about it? If seeing the fitting room would somehow help Angelina process her grief over losing Joey, then who was Bea to stop her?
“Can I go back?”
Bea nodded. “Sure. I’ll give you some time.”
“Thank you.” Angelina sniffed and walked past, and as she moved, Bea caught a whiff of her perfume.
I know that scent...
All at once, Bea was thrust back to that night when she was closing up alone and the power had been switched off. She heard again the rustling in the store, her skin prickling anew with the remembered sense of someone coming closer in the darkness. Then a breath of perfume followed by blinding pain.
She put her hand to her head and took a step back, instinctively trying to protect herself from the anticipated blow. But it never came.