by Patti Larsen
Heather was mute a long moment, lower lip quivering, eyes huge and staring until she finally shook, just a little bit, turning toward me one last time. “I’ll turn myself in,” she said, soft and low. “To your father. If you’ll come with me.” Her lips tightened to a line. “But I won’t be railroaded this time, Fiona. I didn’t kill Lester. I didn’t push him, I had nothing to do with his death. I’ve lived with the past far too long to let that happen to me again. To layer more guilt on top of what I already endure every single day.”
And despite the evidence against her, I believed her in that moment. Had to. Her emotions were too raw and her truth too apparent for me to accept anything else.
Which left me with the solid fact as I stood and helped her to her feet, walking her back toward the parking lot and my car, that I still had no idea who’d killed Lester Patterson.
***
Chapter Thirty Three
I’d just barely walked through the doors to Dad’s office, Heather at my side, ready to hand her over to him and the troopers, when I realized my father wasn’t alone. The startled and then hungry look on Robert’s face, the sudden tense silence in the room, told me I’d just miscalculated in the kind of massive way that might get the woman beside me incarcerated for something she didn’t do. Why I felt so protective of her I had no idea but I found myself stepping in front of her while Robert lurched toward me, hand reaching for his cuffs at his belt, my father following at a slower pace. The tight, unhappy expression Dad wore told me there was nothing I could do, though it didn’t stop me from standing my ground as my cousin came to a huffing halt in front of me.
I glared up at him, positive my disgust showed clearly on my face, while Robert’s teeth squeaked from grinding so hard.
“Out of the way, Fanny,” he snarled. “I’m arresting Ms. Parborough for the murder of Lester Patterson.” His body swayed, like he intended to shove me aside if I didn’t move. All the more reason to hold my position. Lucky for him he held himself back while my temper crackled.
“Heather,” I said over my shoulder, ignoring my cousin’s demand, “don’t say a word without a lawyer, you understand?” She grunted faintly, her expression lost to me because my eyes never left Robert’s. “Not a word.”
I caught Dad’s deepening frown over my cousin’s shoulder as I finally stepped deliberately aside, hugging myself while Robert roughly cuffed the woman I’d brought in. He had to be a jerk about it, didn’t he? He actually looked like he took pleasure from tightening the metal around her wrists. She met my eyes as he turned her toward the door, reading off her rights in a dull voice that barely hid the glee behind the small minded man he really was.
“Not a word,” I repeated. She nodded and didn’t resist when he shoved her, hauling her to a stop as he stared down at me for a long, angry moment.
“Careful,” he whispered, breath bad enough it could kill a bird in flight, “I’ll have you dragged in for impeding a murder investigation.”
“Considering I brought you your suspect,” I snarled back, “you can suck it.”
Robert twitched, eyes tight, but he didn’t comment again, hustling Heather out of Dad’s office, the door swinging shut behind him. It was quiet a long moment before my father spoke up, so much so I shivered when he broke the silence.
“You think she’s innocent.” Not a question.
I turned to Dad. “From the look on your face,” I said, taking in his continuing unhappiness, “so do you.”
Dad tossed his hands, sighed. “I have no idea, Fee,” he said. “But it seems a bit too much like someone made sure Heather’s arrival on Lester’s boat was a slam dunk. Not to mention all the paperwork with her name on it. David’s. But the fact the video cut out right after that makes me wonder what we missed.”
Tell me about it. I dialed Crew’s number while Dad watched, leaving him a detailed message with everything I’d uncovered. Dad tossed in a few tidbit reminders which I added before I sighed into the phone. “I have no idea if you’re even getting these messages,” I said. “If you are, I’m going to kick your ass when I see you, Crew. If not…” I didn’t want to think about if not. “Just call me. I’m going to keep this up until you do.” I hung up then, meeting Dad’s troubled eyes, but didn’t get to say a word about it. The door to the office banged open, Olivia Walker’s angry entrance enough to change the subject.
Or not. “Where is he?” Yeah, not. She glared back and forth between me and Dad, hand shaking as she waved them around like we were hiding Crew from her. “The damned fool is going to lose his job whether we like it or not. If Robert’s arrest sticks, Crew is out and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
Never mind Heather’s innocence, I guess. Sigh. Collateral damage meant little to Olivia when she was on a rampage. “I think he’s working with the FBI on something.” I met Dad’s gaze again, caught his subtle agreement. “I have no idea.”
Dad opened his mouth to either add fuel to the fire or clarity, only to stay silent when his door opened one more time. Geoffrey strolled through, grinning at me, at Dad, at Olivia, acting like he’d just won the mayoral race by a landslide.
“Well done, you two,” he said. “Our acting sheriff is booking our suspect now.” Like the councilman had anything to do with Heather’s arrest. “I must say, this is turning out better than I expected. Who needs an outsider like Crew Turner when we have the Flemings to save the day?” He made that sound like it was a good thing. Instead, it felt like a knife turning in my stomach. Hadn’t Crew told me all along he’d felt like he was being punished for not being my dad? Pressured to include me and my father in his investigations? Bullied, even, into doubting himself in favor of us and, heaven forbid the ridiculousness of the idea, Robert because he was related?
I’d never seen the truth so clearly as I did in that moment and it made me sick. “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” I snapped. “None. Robert is an incompetent ass and you’re an idiot if you think otherwise.”
Geoffrey’s gaze narrowed, smile more shark-like than ever. “I’m fully aware of his failings,” he said. “That’s why I want you to run for sheriff.”
Okay, so that was out in the open now. “You’re nuts,” I said.
“Am I.” Geoffrey seemed to have forgotten Dad and Olivia were there, focusing on me like I was prey. “Perhaps then we should offer the job to Robert permanently?”
“Enough,” Dad said in that tone of voice that wasn’t angry, wasn’t really anything, but held the sort of weight that made people pay attention.
Geoffrey’s gaze snapped to my father and for an instant he seemed furious, darkness showing behind the veneer of civility. Worse than Robert’s because it had intelligence in it. Though maybe that wasn’t accurate. What was more dangerous, an evil man who knew what he was doing or one that had no freaking clue?
I hoped I’d never get the chance to find out. But it stirred a question in me, sure did. “Why did the Patterson matriarch cut off Lester, Geoffrey?”
He looked surprised, like he wasn’t expecting me to bring that up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said.
“And yet,” Dad interrupted in his drawling sheriff’s voice that demanded attention and got it, “you can’t deny it’s a possible motive for his death. If he was stirring up trouble for the family…?”
Was Dad going where I thought he was going with his almost accusation? From the fury on Geoffrey’s face, he sure was. And I had no qualms joining him in the fray.
“Tell us, Geoffrey,” I said in my sweetest tone of voice, “where were you the night Lester was murdered?”
Dad said he had an alibi, but I wasn’t above petty smackdowns if I had the chance to deliver. Oh yes, I did go there, asshat. Suck it up.
Geoffrey didn’t comment. In fact, he didn’t react at all, telling in my opinion. Instead, he spun on his heel and marched out while Dad glared after him, eyes tight around the edges, my own intuition whispering, whispering.
Olivia b
roke the silence, subdued tone making me shiver. “Did you just accuse him of murder?”
I winked, not sure why I suddenly felt so light and almost giddy. “Someone had to.”
Dad laughed. “He has an alibi and neither of us really believe Geoffrey would get his hands dirty,” he said, closing the gap between us, big hand falling on my shoulder, “but it raises some interesting questions.” About the Patterson family? Dad went on, fingers tightening as if to keep me from asking any of my own despite his statement. “We’re trying to get to Crew,” he said to the mayor who huffed softly before nodding, looking away with her lower lip between her teeth. “No one wants him back here more than we do.” He could say that again.
“If Crew is fired over this,” Olivia said, still in that same soft voice, “and Robert takes his place, I’m done as mayor. I need his ass back here, now.” She didn’t sound so much like the powerful leader whose persona she’d groomed over the years. Instead, she seemed more fragile than ever. But the very fact she clung to her convictions? I’d give her the benefit of the doubt.
“There’s always Dad,” I said, looking up at him. “You could take the job again.”
But he was shaking his head despite Olivia’s sudden flare of hope. “Bad idea,” he said. “There’s some things coming to light in the next little bit that won’t do you any favors if I’m your only backup.” What did that mean? I stared at him with fear in my heart while he hugged me against him. “Malcolm Murray is seeing to that.” This was about Siobhan? Damn it, what the hell was Dad hiding? “You need someone bulletproof, Olivia. You need Crew Turner.”
***
Chapter Thirty Four
I stepped outside, not wanting to let Dad hear me yell at Crew through yet another futile message. As I stomped to the edge of the sidewalk for the illusion of privacy, however, I had an epiphany. Instead of Crew, I made a different call, internet searching the switchboard for the local FBI office directly and asking, with bated breath, to be connected to Special Agent Elizabeth Michaud. Because Fiona Fleming of Fleming Investigations had urgent business with her.
What do you know? It actually worked. Three rings later and the familiar woman’s voice answered. “Michaud.”
“This is Fiona Fleming,” I said, knowing my words were rushed and running together, practically hearing her tension from the other end of the line. “Please, don’t hang up.”
She exhaled softly into the receiver before speaking. “What can I do for you, Miss Fleming?” Was that irritated frustration in her voice? She did not get to be that way with me, nope, uh-uh. Still, I held my temper as best I could as I spoke again.
“Whether you like it or not,” I said, “Crew has a responsibility to the town he’s been serving as sheriff the last few years.” She didn’t protest so I went on. “In his absence, a murder investigation is being botched and he’s taking a personal and professional hit for not being here to deal with it. Do you understand what I’m staying, Agent Michaud? Your former partner’s reputation is being shredded because you refuse to let me talk to him.” Yup, I was positive this was all her fault.
She didn’t say much to change my mind about that belief, either. If anything, when she finally spoke, her voice low and angry, she gave me the proof I needed she was behind Crew’s absence and continuing silence. “While a murder in your little town might feel like the end of the world, Miss Fleming,” she said, “Crew understands that his present circumstances carry more weight in the grand scheme.”
“He’s working a case with you,” I said, not a question. “He’s not FBI anymore, Agent Michaud.”
“Be that as it may,” she clipped back, crisp and attempting professional while coming across as bitchy, “his current activities take precedence. Listen,” she sighed then, as if she knew I wasn’t going to let this go, “I realize you two have some kind of personal attachment going on.” Was she listening to my messages? The ones I’d been leaving him on his phone? Since she’d answered his cell previously I could only imagine that was true. Did she think I was some kind of crazy girlfriend who was overacting? Who cared. “That’s nice for you.” Right, she sounded like that filled her with sunshine and unicorn farts. “But until this situation is resolved, Crew isn’t available. And you can take that up with the deputy director of the FBI if you have a problem with it.”
“Does he even know his job is at stake?” She didn’t answer my question. In other words, nope.
“If I were at liberty to tell you anything, I would have by now.” She sounded contrite, to a point. “I can say this has to do with an old case, one Crew felt responsible for.” She exhaled heavily. “You might want to blame me for this, Miss Fleming, but it was Crew’s case in the first place and he’s the one who wanted to see it through when he found out what he’d built was falling apart.” Now she sounded worried. “I had to tell him we lost our main witness. He’d never forgive me if I hadn’t.”
I had a feeling she wasn’t supposed to tell me that. But it explained why Crew lit out on Jill in such a hurry and his odd message left on my phone. So blaming Agent Michaud wasn’t maybe the right place to settle my aggression. Still, she was all I had. “So Crew agreed to help you, what? Find another witness? Uncover more evidence?”
Her silence was getting irritating.
“Is he undercover?” At least tell me that much. “Is that why I can’t talk to him?” Undercover would explain a lot and notch up my nervousness for him about a hundred times. How safe was he?
Her hesitation filled in the blanks. “I can’t discuss the details,” she said. “But since the people he’d been working with originally trusted him...” She sounded like she’d gone too far again and finally stopped. “He had to go silent. Can you accept that, at least?”
Accept? Fine. Live with it? We’d see.
“You realize he’s going to be furious with you when he finds out his new life is falling apart without him here to do something about it.” Again, no comment, and a weak argument. This was Crew’s choice. If he made it back to Reading with his job and life intact I was going to kill him myself.
Instead, sounding even testier than before, she tsked. “You do realize you’re not helping speed matters by giving me grief, right? Or leaving constant messages for him? You think he’d be out here working this case if he didn’t feel responsible?” Yeah, she was turning things back on me, and maybe that was fair but I wasn’t in the mood for her attitude. Apparently, she wasn’t in the mood for mine, because she ended abruptly. “Was there something else, Miss Fleming? I have work to do. And if you want Crew to stay safe while he’s under my care, you might want to stop pestering me.”
I could have made a choice comment or two, swore or even told her where she could shove her self-righteousness in the most uncomfortable way possible. Instead, with my teeth firmly clamped shut, I hung up on her. Ever notice how hanging up on someone via cell phone is intensely lacking in satisfaction compared to the hearty slamming that can come from the thud of a landline receiver?
Yeah, me either.
I spun on my heel, heading back inside and to Dad to confirm what we’d both really known all along and almost ran into Jill. She caught me by my upper arms, steadying me and shaking her head at the sight of me. The expression on my face must have told her volumes.
“Crew?” She seemed nervous. No, worried. So I wasn’t the only one? Good.
“His former partner,” I snarled. “Come on in, I can tell you what I don’t know when I fill Dad in.”
She followed without comment, making me think she’d been heading our way initially. And when Dad nodded a greeting to her I realized I was right in that regard, considering he didn’t seem surprised to see her.
I told them both about Agent Michaud and Crew’s confirmed missing status thanks to the meddling of the FBI. I was half tempted to contact the deputy director as Crew’s old partner had challenged me to do, but instead I slumped into a chair opposite Dad while he took a seat behind his desk, Jill joining us in the sa
me rather defeated posture of a person who’d about reached the end of her rope.
Dad did the honors for the rest of it, filling Jill in on what I’d learned about Heather while the deputy grumbled wordlessly about the details, shaking her head over and over again, blonde ponytail bouncing across her wide shoulders.
“It looks bad,” she finally said when Dad finished up. “Considering the footage and how desperate Heather was to protect her father.”
“I don’t think she did it,” I said, though there wasn’t much conviction in my tone, I admit. When I heard Dad roll out the evidence against Heather in such a methodical manner, things were rather grim. And without another suspect with so much riding against him or her, there wasn’t much I could do to help the young woman, either.
“Thanks for filling me in,” Jill said, her frustration bubbling clearly beneath the surface. Her right knee began to bounce, hands clenched in her lap. “I’m getting more from you than my supposed superior right now.”
“Robert’s not sharing?” Dad’s frown deepened. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”
Jill shrugged, looked away, jaw so tight her lips were white. “This is a mess, John,” she said. “Biggest one yet. And without Crew here to sort it and keep Robert in line, I’m worried. Really worried.” She met my eyes, hers flat and empty. “If he takes over for the sheriff, I won’t be staying on as deputy.”
Well, crap. That wasn’t news I wanted to hear, though hardly surprising. I wouldn’t want to work for Robert, either.
“Let’s make sure it doesn’t come to that,” Dad said, sounding soothing enough but as grim as I’d ever seen him. Was he considering taking Olivia up on her offer to get him back in the sheriff’s seat? Maybe. Part of me wished he would, though I knew if Dad said yes, Crew’s job would be gone for sure. And I wasn’t ready to give up on the guy I’d fallen for just yet.