by Jen Talty
“So then, no reason to meet with this lawyer anytime soon.” A concept that he thought was beyond crazy. “I don’t understand why you even suggested it.”
“Because that’s how my cop brain works. When a woman dies that’s involved in a love triangle—”
“Love triangle? Really? You can’t call that a love triangle.”
“Oh, yes, you can,” she said, “and the first place to look is the boyfriend and the husband.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but then realized if he put any other man in this situation, he’d think the same thing. “Yeah, I need to stop thinking about this stuff. Going to make me crazy. And while we’re on that subject, I’d rather not meet with the lawyer.”
“I think you should.” Stacey shifted to an upright position, tucking her legs under her butt, resting her hands on his shoulders as he turned to face her.
He could look into her milk chocolate eyes all day long. They were filled with life and endless possibilities.
“I am meeting with her,” she said, leaning in closer. “Not only did my dad mention he knew a female attorney, he admitted to having lunch with her. That’s the closest he’s ever been to admitting to a girlfriend in his life.”
“Your father’s love life is none of your business.”
“It most certainly is my business.” Her fingers glided to the back of his neck. Her fingers felt like soft rose pedals. “You’re not even a little curious?”
“I’m very curious,” he said, “especially since he’s been disappearing now for about two months, a couple of times a week, for lunch. I was starting to feel rejected.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know, he’s been out late a couple of nights. Said he stayed late at the office, or stopped somewhere, and I thought that odd.”
“He could have been with me.”
She shook her head. “Not the nights I’m thinking about. Are you sure you didn’t know?”
“I suspected.” He took her hands in his, kissing the soft swell of her palms. Even though he was enjoying the physical contact, he needed to put a little distance between them. Take things slow. “But he’s always been so weird about it that I didn’t want to push his buttons.”
“I want to push his buttons. I want to meet her.”
He laughed. Stacey was one of a kind. She had an enormous personality. She was bold. Highly intelligent. Confident. Not to mention beautiful. He couldn’t find a single thing wrong with her, except perhaps she often didn’t filter her thoughts when speaking. “Hey, he mentioned her. That’s a start.” Keeping this conversation focused on her father might help him keep his hands to himself.
Not the right time.
“He’s never brought a woman around. I don’t even know what kind of woman he’s attracted to, except maybe my mother, and it took him forever to get over her. I worry he’ll pick a wacko like that woman who used to work in the office.”
Doug laughed. “Most of the women I’ve met were normal.”
“Now you make him sound like a player.” She frowned. “And that means you’ve met them.”
“Some,” he admitted. “Well, maybe two in the last ten years.”
“He needs a woman. A good woman. One that gets him.”
“That’s a tall order.” Doug continued to hold her hands, resting them on his lap. “He’s even more private than I am. It’s going to take one hell of a woman to be patient enough to give him the time to open up.”
“So, let’s meet this woman and find out if she’s got what it takes.”
“Not your call.”
“You’re right, but I still want to meet her. He’d want to meet whoever I was dating. Make sure he cuts the mustard.” Stacey raised her hand, gliding her palm against his cheek, and drew him closer, her lips only a few inches away from his.
“Are you saying I cut the mustard?”
“Are you saying we’re dating?”
“I hate that word,” he whispered. “What does it mean, anyway?” So much for keeping his hands to himself.
“Well, if we’re not, then I’m free to do this to other men.” She straddled him before pressing her warm, full lips against his, darting her tongue into his mouth.
He rested his hands on her hips, fighting the desire to cup her ass, stand, making sure her legs were tightly wrapped around his waist, and carry her up the stairs. He allowed the kiss to linger. He wanted to savor the moment, to think about something positive before bed. Something other than his late wife and possibly being accused of something he didn’t do, forcing him to really put the brakes on with Stacey.
He pulled away, gently pushing her off him. “I guess we’re dating, because I sure as shit don’t want you doing that to other men.”
When she smiled, his heart skipped a beat. “On that note, I’m going to bed.”
“I’ll walk up with you.”
He held her hand as they walked up the stairs, doing their best not to make the floorboard creak, but to no avail. They paused, looking at each other, then Jim’s door, but it didn’t open.
Doug kissed her one more time before she stepped into her room and shut the door, leaving him standing in the hallway. He stood there for a moment, remembering the first time he’d ever seen Stacey. He’d been a homeless teenager, and she, a precocious young girl. How things had changed since then.
Chapter 4
STACEY PREFERRED patrol on the lake versus being behind the wheel of a car, but her training as a rescue swimmer cut into her hours on the lake, and now that the end of summer was near, she was rotated back to Thruway patrol.
The morning had proven uneventful. A blown tire that required assistance. Two speeding tickets. One fender bender. She’d been on her way to grab a bite to eat when Jared summoned her back to the station house to discuss Mary’s death. He wouldn’t do it over the phone. She wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but decided to listen to her stomach and picked up a sub on the way. She picked one up for Jared as well.
The station house wasn’t very big, even though it covered a relatively large area. There was one large room with twelve desks, a reception area, an office in the back for her boss, Jared, one small conference room, and that was about it. The floors were scuffed, and the lighting was always a bit too bright. Of all things about her job, spending time in the office was her least favorite.
She hung up her Stetson then made her way back to Jared’s office. She tapped on the open door, and he waved her in.
Jared was a few years older than her father. They grew up down the road from each other, and played various sports together in high school. Their families were close, and Jared had always been like an uncle to her. He was broad, greying a little around the temples. He was married, with three kids and another on the way. Jared came off like a tough guy, but his bark was worse than his bite, a big old teddy bear.
She tossed the subs on his desk before turning the chair and straddling it.
“Meatball sub?”
She nodded. “So, what’s up?”
“Preliminary autopsy report on Mary.” He wasn’t one to beat around the bush, something she admired. “The ME is ruling the death as suspicious. They found a small skull fracture.”
“Skull fracture by itself in a drowning wouldn’t be suspicious. She falls. Hits her head. Goes overboard.”
“They found significant bruising around her neck and throat, as well as other bruising on her body. No formal cause of death. Waiting on lab results.”
“You talk to the M.E. yourself?”
Jared and his family had been a staple in their community for generations. Everyone knew Jared. Everyone liked and respected him. “I did.”
“I take it, Warren County Sheriff’s Office has the case?”
Jared nodded. “We’ve got a finger in it, but yeah. It’s their case. The detectives assigned to the case are Gregory and Dalton. I know of Dalton. Good guy. I don’t know Gregory.”
“They got any leads?”
“Two.”
> “Doug and Bill.”
Jared nodded. “Weak in both cases. They sent a car to Bill’s summerhouse. From what I gather, they can’t find anything. No trace of him anywhere.”
“There was blood on the boat.”
“Will be a while before the labs come back on that.” Jared leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head. He always did that when he was thinking intently. Usually, it wasn’t a good sign. “I heard from a buddy at the Sheriff’s office that the two detectives on point in this case will be heading to talk with Doug.”
“I’m not surprised,” she said, though she didn’t want him to have to do that alone. “He’s at The Heritage Inn all day with my dad.”
“Your father almost never works on Sunday.”
“I know, but they’re behind, and he thought it might be good for Doug to keep his mind off what might have happened to Mary.” Stacey didn’t like the way Jared stared at the ceiling. “What else?”
“They want to interview you.”
“Why?”
“Not exactly sure, but I’m guessing it’s because you were on the SCUBA team that found the body, and they found the connection to you and Doug.”
“Should I have pulled myself off sooner?”
“I don’t think you should have pulled yourself off at all,” Jared said. “You’ve lived here your entire life. You’re going to find yourself in difficult situations with people you know.” He tilted his head, catching her gaze. “I do understand why you did it, and I stand by you. So does Prichard, so don’t go second-guessing yourself there. I suspect they’re just fishing, but since we both know where’d we look first, you have to also think they’re going to ask you things about Doug.”
“I guess I’m not surprised by that,” she said. “That means they’ll want to interview my father.”
Jared nodded. “Don’t get upset, but I need to know you won’t go off half-cocked. You have a laser-sharp tongue, and not always at the right time.”
“I will keep my mouth in check.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” Jared said. “Let’s go talk to your dad and Doug before Frick and Frack from the Sheriff’s office find them.”
* * *
Doug sat on the steps at The Heritage Inn, his laptop on his lap while he looked at the blueprint for the redesign of the main floor of the hotel. This project had been a dream come true. There was so much history to the old hotel, and he wanted to keep as much of it as possible. The original design was unique, the style quaint yet sophisticated, with its tall ceilings, detailed crown molding, and antique feel.
When it had first gone on the market, he and Jim tried to buy it, but they had too many funds tied up in other projects. They didn’t want to buy it to run a hotel, just to keep some other big development company from coming in, tearing it down, and building condos. Lucky for them, Reese McGinn and his wife bought it and hired them to do the remodeling, keeping the original beauty.
“What was the measurement?” Jim yelled from inside. The lobby needed complete gutting. There was rotted wood, water damage, and some other structural issues, but they were working off pictures from when the hotel had originally been built, and recreating the look and feel without dating the hotel. The goal was to mix the past with the present. As Jim would say, “Bringing yesterday into the modernization of today.” Doug thought the statement cheesy, but true.
He was about to yell back when he noticed a state trooper car rolling into the parking lot. “We got company.” He closed his laptop, then set it on the nearby coffee table, and took the few steps from the porch to the walkway, looking forward to Stacey’s smile. Only she wasn’t alone. “It’s Stacey and Jared.”
“What are they doing here?” Jim stood next to Doug at the base of the stairs.
“I have no idea, but I’m not getting a good vibe.”
It wasn’t often he saw Stacey in her uniform. Her petite frame didn’t seem so petite, even standing next to Jared.
She smiled as she strolled toward Doug, but it wasn’t her usual bright smile. He told himself it was just because she was on duty.
“Always happy to see my baby girl and an old buddy,” Jim said, “but something tells me this is official.”
“No,” Jared said. “Wouldn’t say official, but we heard from the ME.”
“Mary’s death wasn’t accidental.” Stacey had her hands on her hips, her stance shoulder width apart. Her professional demeanor frazzled his nerves. “It’s been ruled suspicious.”
“What exactly does that mean?” Doug glanced between Jared and Stacey, both not showing a single emotion.
“We don’t have too many details, but the Sheriff’s office is going to be finding all of us soon to interview.”
Doug let out a long breath. “Does interview mean interrogate?”
“No,” Stacey said. “But it does mean we’re going to be under a microscope.”
“Why don’t we go sit down?” Jim suggested. “We’ve got a couple of chairs and makeshift desk inside.”
“Good idea,” Jared said.
It might be a good idea to sit down and talk, but there was nothing good about the topic.
“You okay?” Stacey whispered as she wrapped her fingers around Doug’s bicep.
He patted her hand, taking the steps slowly. “You tell me?”
Her silence spoke volumes.
They filed into the old lobby of The Heritage Inn. Walls had been ripped out. All the carpet removed. Electrical was being moved and replaced. To anyone else, it probably looked like a bomb went off, but to Doug, it was the beginning of a great piece of art. But not today. His insides were as torn apart. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “So, am I suspect?”
“The way this works,” Jared said, “is the police will start with the closet people to the victim and anyone who might have benefited from her death. More often than not, its to rule people out and gain insight.”
“But they will be looking at me like a suspect.”
“Yes.” Jared’s single word came down like a gravel.
“Any word on her boyfriend?” Doug asked. “He’s close to her.”
“Still missing.” Jared leaned against the old reception desk. Jim sat on the far end of the Formica countertop they had placed on a wooden frame. Doug sat to his right, Stacey next to him. The single naked bulb hanging above them swayed as a slight breeze carried through the open windows. “I’ve talked to the Sheriff’s office, and he’s a person of interest.”
“What does that mean?” Doug asked. “Is that somehow different from a suspect?”
“Yes and no,” Stacey interjected, “it’s a starting place. Its where we look at all the possibilities, interview people, and gather evidence.”
“So they think either one of us killed her?” Doug asked, trying to wrap his brain around being a suspect in a murder.
Jared shifted. “I don’t know what they think about Bill or you. I just know that his picture and information have been sent out to every law enforcement agency, who are actively looking for him, and the news has the information as well.”
Doug studied Stacey for a long moment. Her eyes always gave away her emotions and thoughts, and right now, the way she caught his gaze, then looked elsewhere, told him something weighed heavy on her mind. He tapped her thigh. “What is it?”
“They have two persons of interest.” This time, she held his gaze. “You’re the only one not missing.”
“Don’t need to be a cop to figure that out. “
“Not the time to be sarcastic,” she said. “They’re probably waiting at the house right now to interview all of us,” Stacey said. “In cases like this—”
Jared interrupted her. “We don’t know what kind of case it is just yet. And it’s just an interview.”
“When you show up here,” Jim said, “with my daughter in uniform, it doesn’t feel like it’s going to just be an interview.”
“Just an interview,” Jared repeated.
“You know it’s mo
re than that.” Stacey folded her arms across her chest. “No point in sugar coating this.”
“I’m not,” Jared said. “I’m—”
“Stop,” Doug stood and started to pace. “Stacey’s right. I’d rather know how it works and how you all think, but I didn’t kill Mary.”
“I’m calling that criminal lawyer I know.” Jim pulled out his phone.
“You know a criminal lawyer?” Jared asked. “You’re going to have to tell me that story over a beer sometime soon.”
“We can have a beer together,” Jim said, “but not telling that story.”
Doug heard a car roll into the parking lot. “Sounds like we have more company.”
Jared was already standing at the door, Stacey next to him. Doug hung back, but he knew, deep down, a few more cops had shown up.
“Let’s take this party to the parking lot,” Jared said.
Two plain-clothes detectives introduced themselves as Detective Gregory and Detective Dalton. They looked to be in their mid- to late-thirties. Gregory was probably six foot, while Dalton no taller than five nine.
“We’d like to ask Mr. Tanner a few questions.” Gregory’s had a harsh quality to his voice. He stood with his hands in his belt, legs spread, puffing out his chest. Doug had met guys like that before, always wanting to be in a pissing match. He made it a habit of staying clear of men like that.
“All right.” Doug felt out of his element, and he didn’t like that feeling on his site.
“When was the last time you spoke to your wife?” Gregory made sure to hold Doug’s gaze.
“Thursday. We texted. Setting up a meeting for yesterday morning, to sign our divorce papers.”
“Do you have those texts?”
Doug nodded.
“May we see them?”
“Why?” Jared asked.
The detectives moved on. “How did your wife seem the last time you saw her? Spoke to her?” Dalton asked, his tone softer, his demeanor less combative.
“She seemed fine,” Doug said.
“Mister Tanner,” Gregory asked, “where were you the night before your wife was murdered?”