“We followed your orders while on duty.” Dave shrugged. “But Kelsey’s a friend. And with all due respect, sir, we trust her with our lives. She’s not the bad guy here. You’re being manipulated by a dirty cop, bought and paid for by Kelsey’s despicable mother.”
“And you know this how?” the chief glared.
“Enough—” I ordered. “Kierson, can you get the state police involved? I need them to take over the investigation of my father’s death. Have them also impound his car from the storage unit.”
“Are you sure? I can call the Feds,” Kierson asked.
“We don’t need the Feds,” I said, turning to Charlie. “Reach out to our contacts in Sadler Creek. Start with Marilyn. See what rumors are circulating regarding our father’s death.”
“I thought she—” the chief pointed at Charlie, “—was your cousin.”
I ignored him and turned to Katie. “Get Cameron on a jet to Michigan. We need him to advise us on a few legal matters.”
Katie walked toward the street to make the call.
“Grady, we need to finish the research we started. We’re running out of time. Maggie, get with Carl. I need the information on this gun that’s supposedly registered to me. Keep Genie away from it, though.”
“Got it,” she said, heading back inside.
“Chief,” I said, turning back to face him. “I’ve run out of goodwill and must ask that you and your deputies remove yourselves from my property. And if I were you, I’d hold off chewing out Dave and Steve for their actions and instead watch the news over the next few days. Expect to see the sheriff’s and my mother’s mug shots on your TV by dinnertime tomorrow.”
The chief looked around, a stunned expression etched on his face as everyone jumped on the tasks that I’d assigned. “Who are you? A federal agent?”
“No. But you might want to google me before you pay another surprise visit to my doorstep,” I said, nudging Dave and Steve to walk inside ahead of me. “You dumbasses,” I said low enough for only them to hear. “You should’ve stayed inside.”
“Couldn’t. You’re our girl,” Dave said. “Besides, I heard you were hiring a nanny for Abigail and was hoping that I could drop off Juliette a few days a week.”
“Talk to Donovan.” I smirked. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
“I’m telling you—it’s not my gun,” I said, throwing my hands into the air in frustration. It was almost noon, and I’d lost all patience hours ago.
“Well, ma’am,” the State trooper said while scratching his forehead. “The paperwork says right here, it’s registered in your name.”
“Let me see that,” Maggie said, holding out her hand. “No. This can’t be right. Kelsey was working for the Miami police department when this was registered.”
“So?” the other trooper said.
“She would’ve registered it in Florida, not in Michigan,” Kierson explained.
The trooper shrugged. “She used her grandmother’s residence.”
“But why would I? I was a cop. Why would I fly to Michigan to buy and register a gun, when I was a cop in Florida?”
“People do strange things,” the first trooper said.
I released a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a growl.
“Chill, Kelsey.” Charlie laughed. “Maggie, what are the dates on that registration?”
Maggie handed her the paperwork, and Charlie walked into the living room and called someone. I eyed the bottle of Bailey’s that was still sitting on the kitchen counter.
“No!” Maggie said, shaking her head at me.
“You’re covered,” Charlie said, returning to the dining room. “You were working the Delray robberies during those dates. A dozen police reports have you documented as being in Florida. Uncle Hank is faxing the details to prove it.”
“Who faked the registration?” one of the troopers asked, scratching his chin.
“My mother.” I sighed. “She’s behind my father’s death too. It’s just a matter of proving it. Charlie, check with the team and see if my mother had anything on the guy who filed the purchase and registration for the gun.”
“On it,” she said as she walked down the hall.
“Is she going to bring that paperwork back?” the first trooper asked.
“She’ll be back in a minute,” Kierson said, waving toward the chairs for the officers to sit. “What can you tell us about the murder?”
“Mr. Harrison was shot point blank while he was getting out of his car. Probably never saw it coming.”
“In the garage?” I asked, leaning back to listen.
Both deputies nodded.
“When?” I asked. “When did the shooting happen?”
“Near two in the morning, according to the neighbor who heard the shots. The medical examiner also confirmed the time of death.”
“Did anyone check my mother, aunt, and uncle for gunshot residue?”
“No reason to. Your mother was asleep in the bedroom. Your aunt and uncle weren’t there until your mother called them later.”
“Doubtful, on all counts. But it’s unlikely it would’ve made a difference, anyway. My mother’s too smart to leave evidence.”
“Why would she murder him at home?” Maggie asked. “Seems risky. And what was your father doing getting home at two in the morning?”
Charlie heard Maggie as she returned to the dining room. “Maybe he has another mistress?” She handed the gun registration back to one of the troopers and handed me a file.
“Or,” Kierson growled, “he was just getting back from visiting an old mistress.” He slammed his palm on the table. “Damn it. Rose kept saying Thomas wouldn’t have tricked her into thinking her baby was dead. That he couldn’t possibly have been a part of it.”
“You think Rose called him?” Charlie asked. “And then what? He drove up north to see her?”
“Easy enough to prove,” Maggie said. “I’ll have Genie pull a warrant for the phone records.”
“This is a state case, ma’am,” the second trooper said, holding up his hand to stop her.
“Yes, but we can get things done faster and then share the information with the state,” Maggie said as she sent Genie a text.
Charlie paced at the end of the table. “Or I can just ask Rose.” She pulled her phone out and made the call. I opened the file she had handed me. My mother had once again collected dirt on someone and turned it around in her favor. She had copies of several fake gun sale receipts and registration documents. I shook my head.
“Are you boys the lead investigators on this case, or are you reporting to someone?”
“There are a lot of officers working the case,” one of the troopers said.
“Tell whoever’s in charge to contact me or Agent Kierson. In the meantime, you’ll want to get a warrant for a guy named Dodd Jenkins. He works at the local gun shop in Sadler Creek. He’s selling guns under false names and registrations.”
“We need some type of proof,” the same trooper argued.
“You have enough,” Kierson said, passing the papers from the fax machine to the troopers. “This fax shows that Kelsey was in Florida when the gun was purchased. That’s all you need to investigate the gun shop.”
“I suppose that might work.”
“Don’t go to Judge Wynhart for your warrant.”
“Why’s that?”
“He’s dirty. He’s in my mother’s pocket, along with the local sheriff.”
“Got any proof of that?” the other trooper asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Have your boss call one of us.” I smiled broadly as I started to think out a plan. “By tomorrow you boys should have this case and several others wrapped up.”
“Is that so?” the other trooper asked.
“Kelsey’s not someone you mess with, and her mother went too far,” Maggie said, inspecting her manicure as she grinned. “By this time tomorrow, they’ll all be sitting in a jail cell.”
“Cell
phone records,” Genie said, walking into the room and handing the papers to Maggie. “Right again. Rose called Thomas Harrison early yesterday.”
“Yeah, Rose confirmed it,” Charlie said, walking back toward the table with the phone in her hand. “She says good ole daddy dearest didn’t know I was their love child, but I call bullshit. He had to have known his own sister-in-law was never pregnant. But regardless, after Rose called him, he drove north to convince her in person. He left the Traverse Bay area about half past ten last night.”
“I’ll need this Rose person’s full name and address,” the trooper closest to Charlie said, getting out his notepad.
Charlie glanced to me, and I nodded. The other trooper’s eyes narrowed as he studied me.
“Oh, yeah,” Maggie said to him. “You read that right. Kelsey’s holding all the cards. It’s annoying, isn’t it?”
“And Marilyn called back,” Charlie said to me, turning away from the trooper. “Rumor has it that Audrey visited Cecil and Mark for several hours yesterday afternoon. Then around one in the morning, Cecil left the house and didn’t return until sometime after two. Twenty minutes later, both Cecil and Mark left together, making quite a ruckus, banging things around and arguing as they got in their car and drove away.”
“But when Aunt Cecil left earlier in the night, Uncle Mark stayed home?” I asked.
Grady snorted. He had been leaning against the wall, observing, since the state troopers had arrived. “Between the broken arm, the broken leg, and his face smashed to hell, I doubt Mark was in any condition to do their dirty work for them.”
“I’m not sure Aunt Cecil has it in her to pull the trigger, though,” I admitted aloud.
“No, she doesn’t.” Charlie sneered. Her hand tightened on her cell phone, threatening to crack the plastic. “But Cecil does like to watch.”
I reached over and pried the phone loose as Kierson stood and wrapped an arm around Charlie’s waist. She leaned back into his chest, tilting her head toward the ceiling and closing her eyes.
“Shit…” one of the troopers said. “Are you people serious?”
“If forensics hasn’t gone through the inside of the house yet, send them immediately,” Kierson said. “They might get lucky and find the clothes Audrey was wearing when she pulled the trigger.”
“Maybe,” I said before looking back at the troopers. “But tell whoever is in charge, not to arrest her even if they do find something. There’s a custody case tomorrow, and I’m hoping she shows her face. Should be interesting. You should come watch.”
“Oooh.” Genie giggled. “I’ll bring the popcorn!”
Kierson turned to the troopers, ignoring Genie. “Bring your boss, someone from the state attorney’s office, and a handful more police officers to the courthouse,” Kierson ordered. “I’ve seen Kelsey in action, and it usually requires a lot of handcuffs or body bags. Since she’s planning on having the showdown in public, then lucky for us, that means she plans on us arresting the bad guys.”
“She could always change her mind,” Grady said, smirking.
“You and your plan Bs,” Kierson said, shaking his head.
Kierson’s cell phone rang, and he stepped into the kitchen to answer it. “Special Agent in Charge Tebbs, how can I help you?”
I looked at Grady and winked.
“Yes, sir. One moment, sir,” Kierson said as he walked back and handed me his phone.
“Hey, Jack. How’s it hangin’?”
Kierson turned three shades of green.
“I assume you’re messing with Agent Kierson?” Jack laughed.
“You assume correctly. What can I do for you?”
“I need you to come to Detroit. Agent Forrick isn’t talking. I was hoping you could do your thing that makes perps start blabbering their darkest secrets.”
“No can do. I got shit of my own I’m dealing with. But Maggie’s in Michigan. She doesn’t have a green light to work cases until Monday, but if you make an exception, she can pressure Forrick into a legal confession.”
“I’m not sure she’s ready to do one-on-one interrogations.”
“She is. But if you’re worried about it, I can send Nightcrawler to babysit her during the interview.”
“Nightcrawler? Is that someone’s name?”
“They’ll be on the road in twenty minutes,” I said before hanging up.
“You hung up on him?” Kierson screeched, reaching to take his phone back.
“We were done talking,” I said. “Maggie, your services are needed in Detroit. Jack’s worried you aren’t emotionally stable enough to handle this, so I offered Nightcrawler to go with you.”
“You want me to walk into FBI headquarters?” Nightcrawler asked from the other side of the room. “Are you nuts?”
“Your job is only to watch Maggie do the interview and ensure she doesn’t go ape shit on Agent Forrick’s ass. Nothing you haven’t done before.”
“Don’t take any weapons inside,” Kierson growled.
“Especially, unregistered Glocks. The suits get way uptight about the scratched out serial numbers.”
Maggie rolled her eyes and started for the door. “I’ll be back before dinner. I’ve already read this guy’s file. He’ll be squealing in no time.”
I turned back to the troopers who were sitting silently, listening to us. “Why are you guys still here?”
“I’m honestly mesmerized by everything happening around me,” one of the troopers admitted.
“Is it always like this?” the other trooper asked.
“Yes,” Grady, Kierson, and Charlie answered simultaneously.
I ignored them. “You two can leave. We’ll call if we need anything.”
“Uh, sure,” one trooper said as they both stood and walked toward the door. “I’ll keep you informed if we find anything.”
“You do that,” Grady said, holding the door open for them and closing it after they stepped outside.
I glanced up at the clock. It was still early enough that I could get pot roasts going for dinner. “Katie! Anne! Lisa! Alex!” I called out.
All four of them scrambled down the hall.
“We have to hurry. Lisa? Did you pick up the food?”
“Basement refrigerator,” she said, grabbing Grady’s arm and dragging him with her down the stairs.
“Alex and Katie, I need all the crockpots. Hattie stored them in the basement storage room. Anne, help me get the pans ready to sear the meat.”
Anne and I seasoned and seared the meat as everyone else prepared crockpots, rinsed carrots, or washed and quartered potatoes. I dropped bouillon cubes, added water, and dropped large chunks of onions into the pots as Anne followed behind me with the roasts. Everyone then followed behind Anne, adding the potatoes and carrots. Within fifteen minutes we had seven crockpots ready and cooking.
“That has to be a new record,” Anne said.
“My hands smell like onions.” I pouted, holding them away from me.
“Rub them on the sink,” Lisa said as she washed the countertop.
“What?”
“The sink. It’s stainless steel. Rub your hands on the inside of it to remove the onion smell.”
I thought she was pranking me, but she nodded to the sink again. I walked over and rubbed my hands against the stainless steel. When I was done, I lifted my hands to smell them. “It worked.”
“Of course it did.”
Grady reached over and grabbed one of my hands to smell it. “I’ll be damned.”
“How did you know that?” I asked Lisa.
“How did you not know?”
“Motherless teenage years, remember? I learned how to cook from internet videos. I never saw any of them rub their hands on the side of the sink.”
“Maybe it’s an Italian secret.” Anne said. “I didn’t know either.”
The doorbell rang and Charlie answered it. She opened the door wider and Cameron Brackins, our Miami attorney, walked in.
He smiled, see
ing all of us huddled in the kitchen. “What are we doing?”
“Did you know that rubbing your hands against stainless steel removes the smell of onions?”
“Yes.”
“Are you Italian?” Anne asked.
Cameron raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”
“See!” Anne said, pointing to Lisa.
“As fascinating as this is,” Kierson interrupted. “Can we get back to work now? We have a lot of files to get through.”
“Fine,” I said, leading the way back to my atrium. The atrium had always been my sanctuary, but with the stacks of boxes and papers everywhere, it felt like I was walking into a twenty-year IRS audit. “Next time, we dump all the crap in the living room, not in my atrium.”
“Bridget wasn’t sure if you wanted it out of sight,” Anne said.
“What is all this?” Cameron asked, stepping over to a stack of files and opening one.
“The files we stole from my mother,” I answered.
He dropped the file like it scalded him and turned to face me. “Define stole.”
“I may or may not have had someone borrow the boxes from my mother’s storage unit.”
“Any chance you or the person who borrowed them, will be arrested?”
“Hell no,” Bridget answered from the other side of the room. “I’m a professional. We used the drop vehicle for each load and met up with the secondary vehicles to move the contents over before going back and taking another load. The security cameras were disabled, and we wore masks anyway. We also had gloves, cleaned all the shelves down after they were emptied, and I installed a replacement lock before I left. The cops would first have to prove there was anything there to begin with, and then they still won’t find anything to trace back to us.”
“Unless they get a warrant to search the house,” Cameron said, waving his hand around the room.
“Why would they?” I shrugged. “My mother doesn’t want the police to know about any of this. It only incriminates her.”
“What’s in the files?” Cameron asked, scrunching his forehead.
“My mother blackmails people. She uses the information either for money, favors, control, or sometimes just for the fun of it. But she has a file on everyone she knows.”
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