Girl Eight: A Mercy Harbor Thriller

by Melinda Woodhall

  Headlights appeared in the distance, drawing closer, before finally turning into the driveway. Eden’s heart leapt when she saw Leo Steele step out of his BMW and walk along the front path.

  She opened the front door and stepped outside just as he reached the steps; he held a bottle of wine in one hand and a shopping bag in the other.

  “I thought you’d never get here.”

  Before he could respond, she pulled him toward her, raising her mouth to his in a lingering kiss. She sighed in contentment when she felt his lips move against hers.

  “If I’d known I was going to get such a warm welcome, I’d have come sooner.”

  “I’ve missed you, Leo.”

  Her whispered words were drowned out by excited laughter as the front door swung open and Hope scurried out ahead of Luke Adams, who carried a bicycle helmet under one arm.

  “Oh, sorry, Aunt Eden, I didn’t know you were out here.”

  Hope’s blue eyes lit up when she saw Leo standing behind Eden.

  “Hello, Mr. Steele. I didn’t know you were coming over tonight.”

  “Yes, I was lucky enough to get a rare invitation from your extremely busy Aunt.”

  Leo looked over at Luke, who was still standing in the doorway.

  “Looks like you and your…friend, are making the most of the weekend.”

  Eden grinned at the protective tone in Leo’s voice. He worried about Hope, and, like Eden, he wanted to be sure Luke Adams was good enough for her.

  Eden still wasn’t sure what she thought about Luke. The boy seemed nice enough, but she knew that appearances could be very deceiving, so she had decided to reserve judgement for the time being.

  “Leo, this is my boyfriend, Luke Adams. And Luke, this is my aunt’s…friend, Mr. Steele.”

  Leo offered a long hand to Luke, who returned the handshake with an easy confidence. The boy’s big, brown eyes shifted back to Hope, and she blushed under his scrutiny.

  “Sorry, but I gotta go,” Luke said. “My mother set an eleven o’clock curfew and I’ll be lucky to make it home by then.”

  Hope followed Luke down to the end of the driveway, waving to him as he climbed on his bike and pedaled away into the dark. She wore a dreamy smile when she walked back up the drive.

  “I guess I don’t need to ask if you had a good time.”

  Eden rolled her eyes in feigned exasperation, but inwardly she was happy for her niece.

  Hope deserved to be happy. After all she’d been through, an innocent crush on a cute boy her own age might be just what she needed.

  Once Hope had gone upstairs to bed, Leo opened the bottle of wine and took a box of dark chocolate out of the shopping bag. He reached back in and pulled out a bag of dog treats.

  “I guess Duke is already asleep for the night?”

  Eden’s eyes shined at him, and she drew him to her for another impulsive kiss.

  “Yes, you’ve arrived a little late for Duke, but I’ll be sure to give him these in the morning.”

  “Make sure you tell him they’re from me!”

  Eden couldn’t stop smiling as they carried their wine glasses to the couch and sat down close to each other.

  She liked the warmth of his thigh against hers, and she felt the tension in her shoulders relax as she took a long sip of the smooth merlot.

  “I’d ask you how it went at Hope House with Dr. Bellows, but I expect you would have called me right away if you’d found out anything specific about Kara.”

  “Yes, I would have. Dr. Bellows wasn’t forthcoming. And I agree with you that he seems fishy. He knows more than he’s willing to say for sure. But he didn’t let anything slip.”

  Eden pushed away a knot of worry in her stomach and willed herself to take another sip from her wine glass.

  “I don’t want to let Dr. Bellows or anyone else ruin our night.”

  Leo produced a wicked smile that brought a rush of heat to her face, and she swallowed hard as he leaned toward her and brushed a lock of hair from her cheek.

  “Yes, you and I deserved a night off. We need some alone time.”

  “Aunt Eden?”

  Eden jumped and slid away from Leo as she heard Devon’s small voice behind her on the stairs.

  “Yes, Devon, aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

  “I couldn’t sleep. I’m worried about the hurricane. Is it going to blow our house down? Like in my dream?”

  “Don’t worry, honey, whatever happens we’ll stay safe, okay? I’m keeping track of the storm, and if it gets too close we’ll go somewhere safe. Now get some sleep.”

  “But I’m too scared to sleep. What if I have another dream?”

  Leo put a hand on Eden’s knee and squeezed.

  “Why don’t you go tuck him in, and I’ll try to find an update of the storm on the news. I haven’t seen the latest report either, so it’s best to be safe and check.”

  Eden led Devon back up to bed, pulling his Power Rangers comforter up to his chin. At ten years old he still had the silky hair and soft, round cheeks of a little boy, and Eden snuggled next to him, wanting to take away all his fear and worry.

  She waited until his breathing had become deep and even, before rising from the bed.

  As she tiptoed across the dark room she heard Devon whisper, “Be careful, Aunt Eden, the storm is coming. I saw it in my dream.”

  A shiver worked its way down Eden’s back as she descended the stairs. A hurricane was heading their way, but Devon’s soft words had stirred an unease that had little to do with the weather.

  Leo was sitting upright on the sofa, his wineglass still full on the coffee table in front of him. He’d found the local weather and was watching weather girl, Veronica Lee, in waders and a rain jacket standing in the Gulf as waves lapped at her legs.

  “I don’t know why they always send some poor reporter out to stand in the storm.”

  Eden sank onto the sofa beside Leo and picked up her wineglass. He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her closer just as a special news bulletin interrupted the weather forecast.

  A reporter stood in front of a building that had been roped off with crime scene tape. She spoke into the camera with grave eyes.

  “Breaking news in Willow Bay Tonight. Police were called to this building downtown where a woman’s body has been discovered.”

  The camera panned to a nondescript building where police personnel were attempting to control a growing crowd of onlookers.

  “No report yet on the cause of death, and the name of the victim has not yet been released, pending notification of next of kin. But the police have named Frankie Dawson as a person of interest in the investigation. An appeal has gone out from the WBPD to anyone who may know where Mr. Dawson might be.”

  A picture of Frankie Dawson flashed on the screen, along with the crime hotline number the police had set up to field calls.

  “What the hell?”

  Leo bolted up from the couch and stared at the television screen in disbelief. Eden rose more slowly beside him, immediately recognizing the man she’d met months before at Leo’s office.

  “It can’t really be him, can it?”

  Eden stared over at Leo with worried eyes. She knew how hard Leo had worked to get Frankie’s conviction overturned, and now here his was in the crosshairs of the police again.

  “Oh, yes it can.”

  Leo groaned, running a distracted hand through his hair.

  “The WBPD is practically famous for jumping to wrong conclusions and persecuting the first person that falls on their radar. I have to go find him. Try to help him.”

  Eden nodded miserably, watching as Leo rushed to the door. He paused, looking back with a sad smile.

  “I guess our alone time will have to wait a little longer. I’m sorry…”

  Eden waited until the door had closed behind him, and then hurried up the stairs to check on Hope and Devon, overcome by a sudden sense of foreboding. She peeked into Devon’s room first.

  He was
sleeping fitfully, his hands curled into tight fists on the bed beside him, as if ready to fight off the monsters that lurked in his dreams. She closed his door with a sigh and moved down the hall.

  Hope was nestled under a fluffy white duvet, her long blonde hair spread over the pillow like a sleeping princess in a fairy tale. Eden watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest, before turning to the window and staring out into the darkness beyond.

  Chapter Twenty

  The banging on the door matched the pounding in Leo’s skull as he opened one eye and peered around. He tried to lift his head, but a cramp in his neck spasmed painfully, and he let his head drop back onto his desk.

  More pounding, and the sound of Frankie’s voice calling to him, convinced him to slowly lift his head and stagger down the hall. He rubbed his eyes with one heavy hand and wrenched the door open with the other.

  “Where have you been?” Frankie shouted, “Haven’t you seen the fucking news? They have a frickin’ APB out on my ass.”

  Leo stifled a yawn, stretching his neck from side to side.

  “Yeah, I heard, Frankie. I was driving around most of the night trying to find you. I left about twenty messages on your phone and drove by your house.”

  Leo walked back toward his office, rubbing his back, which had joined in the chorus of aches and pains caused by sleeping slumped over on his desk for the last few hours. He looked over his shoulder at Frankie, taking in his stunned expression.

  “The police were there, too, by the way. Your mother wasn’t too happy from what I could tell.”

  Frankie flopped onto the chair in front of Leo’s desk and dropped his head in his hands.

  “I crashed over at Little Ray’s house. He works nights…lets me hang out there to get away from my mom when she’s in one of her moods.”

  “Well, she was definitely in one of her moods when I saw her,” Leo said, turning on the coffee brewer and opening a bag of dark roast. He needed caffeine, and lots of it, to jumpstart his brain after the night he’d had.

  “Ray kicked my ass out when he got back from work. Said the cops were after me and my picture was all over the news. I came straight over here.”

  Frankie jumped up and started pacing back and forth, his hands balled into fists at his side.

  “I didn’t do anything, Leo, I swear, man. And I don’t have a damn clue what the police want with me.”

  Leo watched the coffee begin to drip into the pot, gratefully inhaling the aroma as it filled the room. He picked up a little remote from his desk and aimed it at the flat screen television mounted on the wall.

  “They found a woman’s body last night, Frankie. They haven’t released her name yet. They still need to notify her next of kin. She lived in a condo downtown, near Bay Street.”

  A range of emotions played over Frankie’s face as he absorbed the words, then turned to the screen. The woman’s murder was the headline story on the Channel Ten Sunday morning news.

  Leo could see that a local press conference was in progress outside the Willow Bay City Hall. Mayor Hadley was speaking from a makeshift podium, flanked by the chief of police and the city’s media relations officer.

  “…our police department has weathered a few storms this past year, but Chief Kramer and his team are doing a fine job. I’ve authorized them to dedicate whatever resources are needed to solve this terrible crime. I’d now like to bring up Gabriella Jankowski, Willow Bay’s media relations officer, to share the latest updates.”

  Mayor Hadley shuffled back to allow a thin woman in a tailored pink suit to approach the microphone. The woman’s hair had been skillfully highlighted and shaped into a modern, asymmetric style that would look right at home on the cover of Vogue. She offered the crowd of reporters and onlookers a perfunctory smile, then cleared her throat.

  “Most of the reporters probably know me already, but for anyone new in the crowd, I’m Gabby Jankowski, and going forward you can direct any questions on the progress of the investigation to me.”

  Gabby glanced down at the podium, reading the prepared statement in a loud, clear voice.

  “As of this morning we have positively identified the victim as Penelope Yates. Ms. Yates was found in her home at approximately nine-thirty last night by an emergency response team.”

  Shock roared through Leo as he stared up at the screen, his brain trying to make sense of what Gabby Jankowski was saying.

  “We are treating the death as a homicide and are searching for a man who was seen leaving her apartment around the time her body was discovered.”

  Frankie’s face flashed on the screen, and Leo recognized the mugshot that had been taken when Frankie had been arrested for armed robbery. Leo had managed to prove Frankie had been innocent of the charges, but the easily accessible mugshot was a permanent record of the accusation.

  “Anyone who knows the whereabouts of Frankie Dawson should call the crime hotline number shown on your screen.”

  Leo pushed on the remote again, and the screen went dark.

  He turned to Frankie, who stood frozen in the middle of the room, his face ashen.

  “She can’t be dead. I just saw her last night. Sure, she was wasted, but…”

  “You talked to Penelope Yates last night, after you left here?”

  “Yeah, I tracked her down to her condo. Waited outside until she left, then followed her to some dive around the corner.”

  Frankie ran a thin hand through his mop of brown hair.

  “I bought her a few drinks and she got hammered, so I walked her back to her place. That was it, man. She went inside and I split.”

  Leo watched Frankie’s face as he recounted the events from last night. His eyes were unguarded, and his words seemed unrehearsed. Leo prided himself on knowing when someone was lying to him. A decade spent as a defense attorney had honed his skill; he felt sure Frankie was telling the truth.

  “Did you get a chance to ask Penelope about Natalie or my mother? Did she say anything that might indicate she knew who their killer could be?”’

  Frankie stared at Leo in confusion, his forehead furrowing into deep lines over angry eyes.

  “What the fuck does that matter now, man? The cops think I killed somebody. I’m a wanted man.”

  “It matters, Frankie. Did Penelope know anything about Natalie’s killer? Could someone at the bar have overheard what you two were talking about?”

  A terrible suspicion was growing in Leo’s mind, and the coincidence was too strong to ignore. Was the same person who killed Natalie and his mother somehow responsible for Penelope’s death, too? Had the killer decided to stop Penelope from talking for good?

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Leo kept a firm hand on Frankie’s arm as they entered the police station. The fabric of Frankie’s t-shirt was damp with perspiration, and his breathing was becoming more and more shallow as they approached the front counter. The desk sergeant looked up and caught sight of Leo, his eyes widening as he saw Frankie beside him.

  “Detective Jankowksi is expecting you, Mr. Steele. I’ll let him know you’re here.”

  A rush of footsteps sounded beyond the door, and then the door burst open and Jankowski emerged, his face tense and on alert. Nessa followed behind, her tired eyes curious as they landed on Frankie.

  “You could have told us you would be bringing Mr. Dawson with you, Steele.”

  Leo registered the combative tone in Jankowski’s voice, and sighed. It was going to be a long morning, and a very tough sell. Jankowski looked more than ready to play bad cop, so Leo turned to Nessa, who hopefully, as the designated good cop, was in the mood to listen.

  “Nessa, my client has willingly come down here to answer any questions you may have. He wants to help you in your investigation if possible.”

  Jankowski stepped forward and glared into Leo’s face.

  “If your client is so eager to help, then why didn’t he come in last night when we started looking for him? Why make us spend twelve hours hunting for him?”
>
  Nessa stepped forward and put a hand up, her voice weary.

  “Let’s take this through to the back, guys.”

  She turned without waiting for a response, heading back down the hall. Jankowski watched Leo and Frankie trail after her, keeping his narrowed eyes on them, before following them into a cramped interrogation room.

  “Have a seat over there please, gentlemen. And just to be clear, our conversation is being recorded.” Nessa waved up at a camera mounted in the corner and smiled. “We want to be sure we do this by the book.”

  “Yeah, we want to make sure this sticks when we get to court,” Jankowski added, pulling up a metal chair across from Frankie.

  Leo ignored Jankowski and directed his words at Nessa.

  “My client is prepared to provide a full statement of his activity and whereabouts last night. You already have his fingerprints and DNA in the database based on his last wrongful conviction.”

  Leo didn’t want to resort to threats so early in the day, but he knew the possibility of another scandal in the press was something everyone in the department wanted to avoid. He’d gotten Frankie a decent settlement after he’d proven the police’s negligence and shoddy work had resulted in Frankie spending time behind bars for a crime he hadn’t committed.

  Nessa didn’t react to Leo’s subtle threat. She spoke in a calm voice, looking into Frankie’s eyes.

  “Frankie Dawson, I’m Detective Nessa Ainsley and this is Detective Simon Jankowski. We’re looking into a homicide that occurred last night. I’m sure you’ve heard on the news that Penelope Yates was murdered in her condo. Can you tell us where you were between nine and ten last night?”

  Frankie drew in a deep breath. He glanced over at Leo, and Leo nodded, fighting his instincts to advise his client to remain silent.

  Leo knew it was a gamble, but he and Frankie had decided to tell the police everything that had happened, even though it placed Frankie at the center of the crime. If they tried to leave out any of the facts that appeared to incriminate Frankie, it could raise doubt as to his whole story if found out later, and worse, it could prevent the police from finding the real killer, who was still out there, perhaps ready to kill again at any time.