Witness to Murder

by Jill Elizabeth Nelson

  Brody came back a while later, bearing a bouquet of a dozen peach-colored roses. He’d shaved and slept, but his smile couldn’t disguise shadows in his eyes.

  “What’s up?” Hallie asked. “Everything okay with Damon?”

  He shook his head. “He wasn’t home.” His gaze fixed on the floor, and he tugged his left earlobe. “To tell you the truth, he’s been missing since last night. If I didn’t know he’d been talking to Professor Ferndale at the time of your attack I’d think…” He cleared his throat and sighed.

  Hallie pressed her button to lift the head of the bed. “You don’t suppose something’s happened to him. That this Rosenbaum—”

  “No, I doubt his disappearance has anything to do with Wyatt Rosenbaum. Why would that guy interfere with the man who’s about to take the rap in his place? I figure Damon went out, met some friends, and couldn’t give up his taste of freedom. He’ll show up when he’s ready to have me wring his neck.”

  Hallie frowned. “Shouldn’t you tell the police he’s gone?”

  “It’s not against the law for him to leave my house and not check in with me.”

  “Thoughtless kid.”

  “No argument from me.”

  Hallie gestured toward the vase Brody had placed on her nightstand. “Those are gorgeous. Thank you for everything. I love roses. Not like Alicia, who freaked when she saw—” She stopped on a gasp, flesh tingling. “I get it now.”

  “Get what?”

  “Alicia got that white rose a few days before she died. You see?”

  Brody shook his head.

  “White rose? Wyatt Rosenbaum? I’ll bet he used to give her white roses when they were dating. That’s just the sort of sappy romance code a couple of college kids would use.”

  Brody laughed. “I guess that bump on the head didn’t knock out any of your smarts. I’ll mention it to the detective. If she can verify this history between them, it’ll be another nail in Rosenbaum’s coffin when they catch him.”

  The rest of the day passed in Brody’s entertaining presence. By the time he left that evening, Hallie was ready to sleep around the clock. Thankfully, the doctor was ready to let her.

  The next morning, Sam and Jenna and Brody transported her to Jenna’s house. Brody all but carried her up the two steps from Jenna’s attached garage into her kitchen. In the doorway, he handed her the pair of crutches the hospital had issued. Their gazes met in a private smile.

  “Yoo-hoo, you two,” Sam singsonged from behind Brody.

  “Yeah, we’re waiting here,” Jenna added.

  Hallie’s friends hooted. She made a face at them and crutched away toward the living room with her entourage trailing. Brody clicked on the television and asked what she wanted to watch, while Jenna and Sam fussed about settling her onto the couch with her ankle up. Considering Hallie’s limbs felt encased in mud and her head like a throbbing rock atop her neck, she didn’t want to move again for a long time.

  “It’s almost worth the pain for all this attention,” she said.

  Brody scowled. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t laugh.”

  “Lighten up, Jordan. We can’t spend every minute worrying. Rosenbaum’s bound to get caught any minute, now that the police know who they’re looking for.”

  Jenna patted her shoulder. “Hopefully, he’s far away on the run by now.”

  “You just rest.” Sam set a bottle of water on the coffee table within Hallie’s reach.

  Hallie intercepted conspiratorial looks exchanged between the trio hovering around her. “All right. I get it. You all think I’m loopy from the pain meds. You might be right. That stuff knocks me out.” She yawned and snuggled down into the pillow beneath her head.

  “Go for it,” Brody said. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

  Jenna grimaced. “Unfortunately, I have to head to work pretty soon.”

  “And I have to help Ryan with that event on his boat.”

  Hallie waved them away. “Don’t give it another thought. Brody and I will be just fine.” She took a swig of water, settled in again, and soon the room and the TV noise faded.

  After a while, the darkness of oblivion whitened into a dream of a sun-washed field surrounded by dense forest. Ahead of her sat a red and white airplane on a crude runway hacked out of the vegetation.

  Her father scooped her up and hugged her. “Stay out of mischief while we’re away, peanut.”

  He set her feet onto the packed earth, and her mother bent and kissed her cheek. “We’ll be home before you have a chance to miss us.”

  A slim man with a freckled face and wide grin stepped up beside them. The smile turned pensive. “Wish I could be saying the same to my little girl right now. But if my wife’ll come around to agree we belong on the mission field, maybe you’ll meet my daughter soon enough.” He squatted in front of Hallie. “I know how good you are with the babies. If we can get mine over here, it’ll be Allie and Hallie all the time.” He patted her head, and the grin sparkled afresh.

  The air-field and the people washed into blackness, but the words echoed. Allie and Hallie…Allie and Hallie…Allie and Hallie…

  With a gasp, Hallie sat up on her elbow. The room spun then settled. She swallowed against nausea.

  From an easy chair across from her, Brody’s startled gaze riveted on her. “What is it? Did you dream about the attack?”

  “I know who Alicia’s father was.”

  TWENTY

  Brody figured he must resemble a beached cod. “Did I hear you right? You dreamed about Alicia’s father?”

  “Yes and yes. He’s Mr. O’Halloran.”

  “Your parents’ pilot?”

  “Exactly.” She described her dream. “It was more like the surfacing of a buried memory. That conversation really happened.”

  Brody slumped back in his chair. “So Cheryl Drayton was married to this O’Halloran before she hooked up with James. But why would Cheryl hide that prior relationship?”

  “We’ll have to ask her. She might be more forthcoming now that we’ve figured out her secret. But Alicia being Mr. O’Halloran’s baby girl at the time of the plane crash explains one thing perfectly.”

  “And that is?”

  “Why Alicia proposed the idea of a Minnesota model story through her agent and asked for me specifically to do her interview. Don’t you see?” Hallie struggled into a sitting position. “Alicia must have discovered the truth, and she wanted to check me out, see what sort of person I was, before she let me know who she was and started asking questions about her biological dad.”

  Brody pursed his lips. There must be some flaw in the logic. This was too simple, too obvious, now that this one relationship was pieced together. For that matter, taking “Allie” to mean Alicia, was a stretch, wasn’t it? No, it wasn’t. Not in the light of all the crazy happenings in the past two weeks. Not when he could look straight at the bracelet Hallie had found on a dead woman’s wrist. He met Hallie’s expectant gaze. “That makes complete sense.”

  “Now if my parents’ U.S. sponsor organization can find a copy of O’Halloran’s missions application, we can find out where he came from. Then we might be able to unravel the whole sad history of this family, with or without Cheryl Drayton’s cooperation.”

  Brody rose and paced across the room. “There’s a question that I have to ask.”

  “Meaning I’m not going to like it.”

  He stopped and crossed his arms. “At first, everyone assumed Damon killed Alicia. I knew that wasn’t true. Now it’s starting to look like this Wyatt Rosenbaum killed Alicia. Neither one of them has any connection to your parents, Nigeria, or that bracelet. But don’t you think it’s a bit much of a coincidence that Alicia was murdered right on the verge of talking to you?”

  Hallie’s mouth flopped open then she shut it with a snap. If her glare was a laser beam, he’d just been fried. “Are you implying that my parents could have been involved in something that got them, their pilot, and years later, the pilot’
s daughter killed?”

  Brody spread his hands. “I’m not implying anything. I’m just posing a question that needs to be asked. Aren’t you curious, too? Come on! We’re reporters.”

  Hallie screwed up her face like she was chewing on something that tasted nasty. “I—I haven’t let myself ask questions like that, not even in my own head.” She pressed a hand to her bandage and closed her eyes. “I needed Damon to be guilty. That way, I would never have to look for any other answer.”

  Brody knelt and touched her cheek. His fingertips traced the wetness of a tear. “I know it rips your heart out even to think such a thing, but isn’t it always better to know the truth?”

  Her swimming gaze locked with his. “From what will this kind of truth set me free?”

  “Perhaps the answer won’t set you free from something but to be something.”

  “What would that be?”

  “Hallie Berglund, daughter of America and Nigeria.”

  A smile trembled on her lips. “You’re so smart. No wonder I’m falling in love with you.”

  Brody leaned toward her, their breath mingled, and…Someone hammered at Jenna’s front door. They froze. The knock sounded again, loud and insistent.

  Hallie eased away from him. “There’s only one thing you need to answer right now.”

  “What’s that?” Whoever was out on that doorstep needed to go away.

  “The door, silly.”

  Brody sat back on his haunches. “We’ll pick up where we left off later.”

  “It’s a deal.” Her smile teased and promised at the same time. She settled against the couch and closed her eyes.

  He rose and stomped toward the vestibule. The rapping resumed. “I’m coming. And it better be important.” He put his eye to the peephole. “Damon?” His heart leaped. The kid was all right. He’d been way more worried than he’d admitted even to himself. With fumbling fingers, he twisted the lock and tore the door open.

  Damon half lunged, half fell into the house, shoving Brody backward. Brody’s back thudded against the closet door. “Wha-a—”

  “S-sorry, man! He pushed me.” The young man’s face glowed sheet-white.

  “Shut up!”

  The harsh voice drew Brody’s gaze to the figure looming behind Damon. A snarl pulled back the lips on a familiar face, but that wasn’t the sight that froze all sound in Brody’s throat. Heart trip-hammering, he stared down the long, sleek barrel of a Smith and Wesson 500 handgun.

  Hallie sat up stiff, ignoring the protest from her head and ankle. Had Damon finally shown up? Why here? And what was that thud about? “Brody?”

  He stepped into the living room, hands raised. Damon appeared right behind him, hands on top of his head. Then the last man on the planet she expected to see limped over the threshold.

  “James Drayton? What are you doing here?”

  “Protecting my interests.” Half-hidden behind Brody and Damon, the man smiled, and Hallie shivered. She liked his grin much less than his scowl. “Everyone please have a seat,” he said, “until I figure out exactly how everything must be staged. Mr. Lange, take the ottoman. Mr. Jordan, over there.” He motioned with his gun toward the easy chair.

  His gun! Hallie squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. The evil-looking firearm was still there, attached to the end of James’s arm. “I don’t get it. Are you serious?”

  Damon plopped onto the ottoman, hands still up. “He’s not kidding. I think he killed some dude last night. Couldn’t see anything, just heard stuff. Some guy bragged how he’d ditched parole, picked up his dog and a load of cash from his old man so he could go see Alicia and tell her what his research about James had revealed. Then the conversation went muffled. I heard a fight, a dog barking, shots fired.”

  “This dude have a name?” Brody rumbled from the easy chair.

  Hallie glanced toward him. If leashed fury had a face, she was looking at it.

  “Rosie-something-or-other, I think,” Damon answered.

  “You’ve been with Drayton since the night you disappeared from my house?”

  “Yeah. I came back from my walk, and he jumped out of the bushes and clobbered me with something. Next thing I know I’m waking up in the trunk of a car. Been in there mostly ever since.”

  “Enough talk! I’m thinking.” The cannon-sized gun barrel moved from one to the next.

  Hallie gulped. She stared at James Drayton. The man stood in the center of the room, eyes narrowed, jaw twitching.

  “How did you know where to look for me?” She gripped the edges of the couch cushion.

  Drayton lashed her with a look of contempt. “You aren’t the only one who can investigate. While you were looking into me, I was studying you—your habits…hangouts…friends. And voila, the first friend’s house we drive by, Mr. Jordan’s Impala sits outside.”

  “Pardon me if I don’t applaud your cleverness,” Brody said.

  “I don’t require appreciation. I just want my wife and me to be left alone.”

  “If you already avenged your daughter by killing Wyatt Rosenbaum,” Hallie inserted, “why are you coming after us, too?”

  Drayton’s eyelids flickered. “I avenged my daughter? Is that what you think?”

  “We know she wasn’t your blood daughter,” Brody said. “O’Halloran was her father.”

  “Then you know why I’m here. Cheryl can never find out what really happened to him.”

  Hallie’s heart fluttered as Drayton’s cold gaze studied her. “What really happened? Something other than what I’ve been told?”

  “Ahhh, then you don’t know the most delicious detail, either…yet. But you would have figured it out soon enough. You don’t have enough sense to know when to quit nosing around, even when I send you a back-off message loud and clear.”

  “My car!”

  James winked. “I rented a nondescript sedan. A parole officer has to be a pro at tailing even paranoid people. But you still didn’t quit! I stopped Alicia’s mouth, and I’ll stop yours, too.”

  “You killed Alicia?” Hallie gasped and half-rose from the couch. “But why?”

  “Sit!” The gun stabbed toward her, and she subsided against the cushions, trembling.

  “Rosenbaum thought he’d take revenge on me by digging into my life,” Drayton continued. “He’d call me, taunt me. A month ago, he started sending anonymous tidbits to Alicia—got her curious. She started asking dangerous questions. Then he told her everything. When I got to her house that day, she threatened to tell you so you could tell the world, but I stopped her.”

  Hallie pressed her fingers to her mouth. Rosenbaum had played mind games with a madman until it got Alicia killed, and then he switched his attention to another pawn, her, until she became a target of the same maniac.

  “But you were confirmed at a convention in Moorhead the day Alicia was killed.”

  Drayton shrugged. “It’s easy enough to check into a motel and show up at a registration table before taking off for the rest of the day. They’re all a bunch of strangers. Nobody misses you.” He chuckled. “Then I just had Rosenbaum to handle. When he called yesterday, I set up a meeting with him in the abandoned dressmaker warehouse where he was hiding out. He had a gun, I didn’t, but I played a little trick, and one of us walked off with the firepower.” He wagged the small cannon in his hand. “Now I’ll put it to good use.”

  “What did you ever do to Rosenbaum that he needed to go to these lengths to get revenge?” Brody asked the question burning on Hallie’s tongue.

  Drayton smirked. “Three years ago, Cheryl and I went to Seattle and took Alicia away from him. Then I met with him the next day for a little man-to-man chat and slipped a special gift in his drink. He had an unfortunate accident afterward.” He clucked his tongue. “People should know better than to mess with me or mine.”

  “You’re the one who attacked Hallie at her apartment Friday night,” Brody growled. “You trashed her apartment first. What were you looking for?” Comprehension
flowed over his face. “Something Rosenbaum took from your house in Thief River Falls. Right? You thought he gave it to Hallie.”

  “Well, since you’re so smart and have it all figured out, I don’t need to tell you anything.” Drayton turned a speculative stare on Hallie. “At first, I thought I had erred by failing to finish Ms. Berglund then, but now I see that this arrangement will work out much better. Here’s what’s going to happen.”

  He trained his gun on Damon. “Mr. Lange, the police may now have some suspicions about Wyatt Rosenbaum, but they will never find him. Unfortunately for you, that means you remain the suspect charged with the murder of poor Alicia Drayton. In your rage against the only eye-witness, you came over here to kill her, and succeeded, but when your beloved mentor tried to interfere, you killed him, too. Overcome with remorse, you then turned the gun on yourself. Terrible tragedy, but case closed all the way around.”

  Chills cascaded down Hallie’s body. Her gaze sought Brody’s, and she found steel in those gray depths. Neither of them was going down without a fight. She sneaked a glance at Damon. The young man slouched on the ottoman, head down. They couldn’t count on help from that direction.

  “Ms. Berglund, I need you to get up and come toward me.” He motioned with his fingers. “We’ll get you situated then position Mr. Jordan, as if he’s attempting to protect you. Mr. Lange, your body will be found approximately where I’m standing now, but we’ll leave you for last.”

  Hallie remained stuck to the couch. None of this was really happening. This had to be another one of her dreams. “Answer me one thing first. What did you have to do with my parents’ deaths?”

  James snorted. “I didn’t give two hoots about your mommy and daddy, but Patrick had to go. I thought he was my friend, but he stole Cheryl from me. Then I got work with an oil company, and they stationed me in Nigeria. Paid big money. But I knew that wouldn’t lure religious old Paddy-boy over, so I kept writing to him about all the missions opportunities. Finally, he took the bait and came. Then I bided my time. Wasn’t too hard to let the right people know the wrong information about who was on that plane. Boom! Paddy was gone, and Cheryl was up for grabs. I told her the accident was his fault—that he strayed into a no-fly zone. She never questioned my word. She was so ashamed she never spoke of him again, just the way I wanted it. Do you think she was going to tell the daughter of the missionary couple who died that her husband was the careless pilot who flew where he wasn’t supposed to go and got them all whacked?”