by Jane Godman
She should leave this alone. Casey had summed it up. Speak to Everett. If he wanted her to know about his past, he would tell her. She should not go digging without his permission...
“What was the name of the firm he worked for?”
Chapter 14
As they drove toward the head office of Blaze Couriers, Everett and Casey discussed a recurring theme in the case.
“Sean drove his SUV at speed into a wall. How could Georgia—assuming it was her—have gotten him to do that?” Everett had studied every report and photograph of the scene until his head ached. He still couldn’t make any sense of it.
“There was speculation in the press that Sean and Delilah were killed elsewhere, and their bodies were placed in the car wreck after it happened. Forensics confirmed that wasn’t the case. Sean was driving that vehicle when it hit the wall. Their injuries were devastating.” Casey’s mouth thinned into a line. “I got to the scene before the bodies were removed. There was no way they could have survived.”
“What are the other theories? The car was tampered with in some way?”
Casey shook his head. “There was nothing wrong with the vehicle. It was subjected to a thorough check and it passed every test.”
Everett drummed his fingers on his thigh. “I’m reaching here, but could a remote-controlled device have been used? Something that meant Sean was unable to apply the brakes when he needed to?”
“Why wouldn’t he have swerved?” Casey asked. “If he found himself unable to slow down, there were less devastating actions than driving into a wall.”
“Maybe all the controls were taken over remotely?” Everett shrugged. “That sounds like something from a movie, I know, but I’m just speculating.”
“Anything is possible,” Casey conceded. “All I know is that nothing has been found so far.”
“That means it was probably something simple.” Everett felt his mood lower further as he stared out of the window. “And untraceable.”
Blaze Couriers had an office located just outside Cactus Creek, on the road to Tucson. The business consisted of a small reception office, behind which there was a long, low building that Everett assumed was the handling depot for parcels. There was also a fenced yard in which several of the firm’s vehicles were parked.
When he and Casey entered the office, the uniformed guy behind the desk waved them to a seat without looking up. “Be with you in a minute. Make sure you have ID. No ID, no parcel.”
Everett stepped up to the counter. “I’ve got ID.” He checked out the guy’s name tag before holding out his FBI badge. “Is this good enough for you, Antonio?”
“Uh. Right.” Antonio scrambled to his feet. “What can I do for you, officer? Er, agent? I mean...sir?”
“I’m looking for one of your delivery drivers. Name of Joe Meyer.”
“Joe? He’s out on a job.” He reached for a clipboard and flicked through a sheaf of papers. “Although he is due back soon for his next pickup.”
“Soon. What does that mean?” Everett asked.
“Ten minutes.” Antonio’s eyes flickered nervously to Casey, who was leaning against the door. “Maybe sooner if he finishes his last job quicker than expected.”
“We’ll wait here for him.”
“Should I call him? Tell him you’re here?”
Everett smiled. “No, Antonio. You absolutely should not do that.”
Casey moved to watch one of the windows and Everett took the other. It was almost exactly ten minutes later when a delivery van pulled into the yard and Joe Meyer alighted from it.
“Our guy?” Casey quirked a eyebrow at Everett.
“That’s him.”
He watched Joe approach the office. Could he have been the person who came out of the darkness and stabbed him? Joe wasn’t a big guy. Alyssa had described him as average build, but he was possibly smaller than that, and he was light on his feet. Even so, Everett wasn’t convinced. When he compared his own size to his attacker’s, he wasn’t sure there was enough of a difference between him and Joe.
Still have a few questions for you, Joey boy...
The door swung open and, whistling cheerfully, Joe entered. As he stepped up to the desk, Everett and Casey moved into place behind him.
“Nice to see you again, Joe.”
Swinging around sharply, Joe looked from one to the other and back again.
“Hey, I remember you. You’re the teddy-bear guy, right?” His grin failed miserably and he looked like he wanted to cry.
Casey looked his brother up and down. “Teddy bear? That’s not how most suspects describe him.”
Joe’s face dropped even further. “Suspect? What do you mean?”
Everett ignored the question. “Is there somewhere private here? We need to talk to you.”
“Sorry. Got too much to do.” Joe’s gaze swiveled to Antonio in a help-me-out plea. “Isn’t that right?”
“There’s an office at the back.” Antonio gave a helpless shrug as he beckoned them around the counter. “FBI, man,” he said as Joe glared at him.
The office was more of a storage closet. Everett rested his hip on the edge of a packing crate while Casey took up his usual position against the door. Joe backed unhappily into a corner.
“I told you all I know about that teddy bear.”
“You made another delivery to my apartment today, Joe,” Everett said. “Tell me about that one.”
Joe tried for a flash of defiance. “I don’t remember every job I do.”
“You’ll remember this one.” Carefully, Everett removed the letter—now encased inside a plastic folder—from the file he was carrying and held it up so that Joe could read it. “Because either you are guilty of sending threatening letters or someone gave you this to deliver with the other packages you brought to my apartment.”
Joe licked his lips. “I’ve never seen that before.”
Everett turned his head to look at Casey. “That’s good. Will it work in court?”
Casey shrugged. “It’s a risky defense. A jury might believe a mystery person smuggled the letter into the stack of packages while he wasn’t looking. Did you sign for them when you collected them from the depot, Joe?”
“Um...yeah.”
“And you lock your vehicle each time you do a delivery?” Casey continued.
“Of course.”
“Then you’d better get yourself a good lawyer. Any half-decent prosecutor is going to hang you out to dry when you say you haven’t seen that letter before.”
“And threatening a baby?” Everett shook his head. “I can’t see you getting much sympathy from a jury for that, Joe.”
“She said it was a joke.” The words burst from Joe’s lips, and he slumped against the wall. “A family thing. She told me you’d see the funny side.”
“She?”
“Georgia.” He turned his head, whispering the name into the brickwork. “Georgia Dodd. The woman I love.”
* * *
While Kennedy slept, Ryker went out to tend the plants in his conservatory and Maribelle chatted to Alyssa as she organized her charity paperwork. Surreptitiously, Alyssa checked her cell phone for details on Alexandria and Foster, one of the largest, oldest and most well-respected law firms in Phoenix. Specializing in corporate and finance litigation, it had a client list that included some of the largest banks in America.
It was also rumored to have a cutthroat approach to winning awards. This obsession with excellence and perfection had come under the spotlight eight years ago, when the firm’s hiring policies were criticized following the attempted suicide of a young intern.
Eight years ago. Alyssa gazed into space, her mind racing with possibilities. Could Everett have been that person who was driven to the point of suicide by the pressures of his job? She needed to stop this now. She was getting way ahead of
herself. Giving him a history that she knew nothing about was dangerous territory. Determinedly, she put aside her cell phone.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked Maribelle.
A few minutes later, she was immersed in Maribelle’s unique filing system. Since it was unlike anything she had ever come across before, it required all her concentration. It was a curiously therapeutic way to spend an hour.
When Kennedy woke up and noisily demanded food, Alyssa held her bottle out to Maribelle. “Would you like to feed her?”
“I would love to.” Maribelle and Kennedy settled into a large rocking chair together, and Alyssa watched them with a smile. All those expensive presents back at the apartment were meaningless next to this.
A few minutes later, Everett and Casey arrived.
“Did you find him?” Alyssa wasn’t sure whether an affirmative, or negative, answer was the one she wanted.
“We did, and he confessed everything.” Everett placed an arm around her waist.
She turned her face into his shoulder, relief washing over her. “I don’t understand. Did he have some sort of grudge against the Dodds? Against you?”
“No. He’s been working with Georgia. She picked him up in a bar just after the Dodds were killed and convinced him that she was the love of his life. The poor sap would do anything for her.”
Her short-lived happiness soured. “So she’s still out there somewhere?” Why did the thought of Georgia Dodd always make her want to look over her shoulder?
“We’ll catch her,” Casey said. “Joe is in a cell downtown, singing his heart out about everything he’s done for Georgia. The only thing he hasn’t given away is her hiding place.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “On that subject, I want to get back to the office.”
Maribelle waved a hand in his direction. “We’ll see you on Christmas Day.”
“What happened to ‘can’t even stay for a five-minute chat with your mom these days’?” Casey murmured.
“She has a new love interest.” Everett indicated the contented baby. “Be prepared for her to forget your name in a week or two.”
When Casey had gone, he turned to Alyssa. “It’s only a matter of time before she’s caught.”
“I’m worried about what she can do in that time.” She indicated his right arm. “She’s proved she means business, and she was planning on getting into the apartment the night she stabbed you.” She frowned. “Unless it was Joe?”
“No. He has an alibi for the night I was attacked. He confirmed Georgia was the one who stabbed me the night she escaped from jail. Is that what you’re worried about? That she’ll succeed next time she tries to break in? Would you rather stay here?”
She weighed the options. The apartment was cramped and inconvenient. As soon as she moved a single item, the place became untidy. It was also unsafe because Georgia was targeting them there, although it was hard to see how she could get in without tripping over holiday decorations or baby gear. This house, on the other hand, was simply lovely. Big, cozy and with every convenience. And it was secure. There was no choice.
“I want to go home.”
* * *
As they drove back through the center of Cactus Creek, the holiday lights were starting to glow against the falling darkness. Offices were closing and overloaded shoppers walked along the sidewalk carrying bags and parcels.
The ice rink that had been erected at one end of Main Street was busy, but the queue for the Santa Express was dwindling as dinner time approached. Accompanied by reindeer, the little wooden train took passengers on a festive journey into the hills around Cactus Creek.
“It was one of our favorite holiday traditions,” Everett said, as he pulled up at an intersection. “Each December, Casey and I would count the days until we could board the train to the ‘North Pole.’”
“We should do it,” Alyssa said.
“Good idea. Next year, when Kennedy is old enough...”
“We’re trying to make memories for her this year.” She pointed to a parking space. “Let’s take her before we go home.”
He frowned. “Are you sure? It’s been a stressful day. We could always come back tomorrow.”
“It’s quiet now,” she said. “Any other time, we may have to join a line.”
She had a point. The journey in the rickety wooden carriages only took an hour, but the wait time could often be three times as long. Although Everett wasn’t convinced that Kennedy would get anything out of the ride, he could appreciate what Alyssa was trying to do. She wanted to be able to share these experiences with Kennedy in the future so that their little girl knew she’d had a rich and loving start to her life with them.
And wasn’t there a part of him that wanted to put aside all the stress of recent events and clamber aboard the train that had been one of the biggest thrills of his childhood? It would be worth it just to see Casey’s face when he told him how he’d spent the evening.
He pulled into the parking space and turned to look at Kennedy. The baby had been sleeping, but she was now looking out of the window, studying the holiday lights with fascination. That settled it. She would love the color, vibrancy and fun of the Santa Express.
The booth was decked out like a gingerbread house and they were given candy cane entrance tickets.
“I don’t quite follow how we travel from old Arizona to the North Pole,” Alyssa whispered as they boarded the train.
“That’s the magic of Christmas,” Everett told her solemnly.
There were eight seats in each carriage, and, during the journey, Santa made his way through the train delivering gifts. Holiday music played, festive lights twinkled and elves danced.
As the train chugged off on the start of its journey, Everett relaxed. Maybe this was exactly what they needed to put things in perspective. With Kennedy on her knee, Alyssa was waving to the people they passed. The baby was watching the lights with wide eyes and clapping along with the Christmas music. It was a reminder that there was a whole other world that had nothing to do with Georgia Dodd and her threats.
The high point of the journey was when the train reached Santa’s workshop in the “North Pole.” Passengers were able to alight and feed the reindeer before being served hot chocolate and cookies.
“And, of course, Santa has his own store up here in the hills with lots of special offers,” Everett said. “Just in case the passengers have any last-minute shopping to do.”
Alyssa wasn’t listening. “I just need to get a closer look at those baby elf slippers—”
“Seriously? She can’t walk yet, but she needs slippers?”
She gave him a pitying look. “Yes. But Kennedy mustn’t see them.”
“Of course not.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll take her back to look at the reindeer again while you indulge in a little retail madness.”
Five minutes later, the elves were encouraging the passengers back onto the ride with a merry jingle, but there was no sign of Alyssa.
“All aboard.” One of the elves waved Everett toward the train.
“I’m looking for my—” He paused. How was he supposed to describe Alyssa? “Partner.” That was probably the closest. “She went into the store.”
“She’s probably waiting on the train for you, sir.”
While that might be a reasonable assumption for other people, Everett knew Alyssa wouldn’t have boarded the train without him and Kennedy. She knew he’d taken the baby to look at the reindeer, so, once she’d finished her shopping, she’d have come to find him.
“No, she must still be inside the store. Please check.”
The elf looked slightly less cheerful as she shook her head. “The store is closed now, sir. You need to board the train.”
Everett looked around. He was the last person on the platform. The driver gave an impatient toot of the festive horn. Wa
s he really considering his next action? He would be remembered as the guy who tore apart a Cactus Creek tradition...
He leaned closer to the elf. “The Santa Express is not going anywhere until I find her.”
* * *
Alyssa was getting annoyed. The elf behind the counter was the least efficient person she had ever encountered. And he was way too tall to be an elf.
“Is there a problem with my card?” She knew that couldn’t be the case. She had transferred a large chunk of savings to her checking account only a few days ago to cover every festive eventuality. She asked the question in the hope it would prompt him into moving a little faster.
“Uh...no. It seems to be a problem with our systems. I’ll just check with my colleague.”
Okay, so he was an inexperienced elf. Maybe he was a stand-in holiday sprite, or something. Alyssa sighed as she waited for him to return.
The store was emptying rapidly as the passengers returned to the train and she was starting to wonder if the elf slippers were worth the effort or the price tag. But they were cute. Kennedy was going to look adorable in them on Christmas morning.
“I’m sorry.” The elf returned at last. “Your transaction has now been processed.”
“What was the problem?” she asked as he handed her a brightly colored bag and her card.
He cast a furtive look over his shoulder. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but the cash register had been unplugged from its power source.”
Alyssa gave him a sympathetic look. “Technology, huh?”
She reached for her purse to return her card to her organizer. Except... Her purse wasn’t where she’d left it. Her heart gave a heavy, downward thud. Taking a step back, she scanned the area around the checkout. But she already knew what she was doing was in vain. Her purse had been right next to her. Now, it was gone.