Murder in Paradise Bay (New York State Trooper Series Book 4)

by Jen Talty

  Doug nodded. “But they aren’t getting that from Stacey or me.”

  Jim ran his finger and thumb across his chin. “I don’t want either of you to get hurt, and this situation is screwed-up.”

  “I know,” Doug said. “It’s hurting our business. Putting a strain on all of us. But I want you to know that I would never do anything to intentionally hurt Stacey.”

  “That, I do know to be fact.” Jim smiled weakly. “I love my daughter, and I want her to have whatever it is she wants in this world. I didn’t like her becoming a State Trooper, but I can see how that makes her happy. I can see how you make each other happy, but I also see the toll this entire thing is taking on both of you. I don’t want added stress, and your relationship under these circumstances concerns me.”

  “I can’t shut off how I feel.”

  “And Stacey goes after whatever she wants, full force,” Jim said. “I hate mentioning this, and more the reason I’ve been avoiding you.”

  “Mentioning what?”

  “What it will do to my daughter if they arrest you.”

  Doug swallowed the lump in his throat. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Not even air.

  “What it will do to me,” Jim said. “We all know you’re innocent. Just having this conversation makes me ill. But it’s become our reality and I couldn’t stand to see my baby girl really heart broken.”

  “That’s the last thing I want,” Doug said. “I could move out. Put the—”

  “That’s not going to happen. That would break her heart too,” Jim said. “I’m tired. Let’s go home.”

  “I want to talk about something else.”

  Jim leaned against the old lobby desk. “All right.” He folded his arms and waited.

  Doug’s breath hitched. He saw every emotion, good and bad, etched in the deep lines around his eyes. “You brought up business,” Doug said. “I’m concerned we might lose out on some work because of all this and I think we need to make provisions, especially if the worst happens.”

  “We might. We might not. We just have to keep pushing forward.”

  “This isn’t just my life, this is ours…your livelihood,” Doug admitted as he shoved his laptop into his bag. “Even Jillian said to brace for the worst. And no offense, her job is to defend me. Those alone implies me being arrested, tried for a crime I didn’t commit, and then her hopefully getting me off, and let’s just say she does. The damage will already be done to our business.”

  “You can’t project that far out. We need to go one day, one thing at a time.”

  “We have to think about how this is affecting our business,” Doug said. “It could ruin us… you.”

  “Pretty much everything I’ve done in life had the potential to ruin me, as you put it.” The lines around Jim’s eyes seemed to deepen as he furrowed his brow. “I could easily have walked away from Stacey. Given her up for adoption. Most people wouldn’t have thought twice if I had. Most people thought that’s what I should have done. People everywhere made it their point to lecture me on how many couples couldn’t have their own children, and how she’d be better off with them. I was barely eighteen and a single father. I could have destroyed myself, and her along the way.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  “No, I didn’t. I decided to try to believe in my grandmother’s words that everything happens for a reason. But keeping her was a big risk, and not just with my life. But hers. I was eighteen. What the hell did I know about being a father and raising a child? Then I met you, and everyone thought I was nuts to bring you home instead of turning you over to Child Protective Services. Even my parents worried at first you’d be some raving lunatic, and up and kill us all.”

  “Well, people do think I killed my wife.”

  “That’s not funny,” Jim said. “I am worried you could be arrested, but if that happens I’m going to put my faith in Jillian. She’s good at what she does.”

  “I believe that.” For the first few years he’d lived with Jim, Doug kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. His entire life had been one disappointment after the other. One promise of a new beginning, only to become just another broken promise. It was easy not to trust people. Jim gave him new hope. A new life. “I feel like I’m breaking that promise I made to you when you let me come live with you.”

  “Which promise?”

  “That I would never do anything to make you regret giving me a job. A place to live. An opportunity.”

  “You haven’t broken that promise. Just because I’m concerned or worried, doesn’t mean you’ve done anything to me at all. All this deep darkness you’ve let creep back into your soul isn’t helping your case.”

  “That darkness comes and goes, and has been for the last year. Stacey has a way of making it go away.” Doug looked away, and not just because his eyes were moist. “I broke my promise because of Stacey. It hit me so fast I didn’t see it coming. I know it bothers you.”

  “It doesn’t bother me as much as you think it does. It’s the circumstances that have gotten to me.” Jim adjusted in his seat as he raised his hand, running it across the top of his head. “And all the changes. I’ve never had a woman spend the night before. It was always my big rule. No women in the family home. Stacey has never really known me to be with a woman. I dated, but I could never see them loving my baby girl like I love her, and I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if there were any ill-will between Stacey and any woman I brought home.”

  “So you brought me home instead.”

  Jim laughed. “I think you’re right about that.”

  “You have to know that while Stacey busts your chops, she was thrilled that Jillian spent the night. That you’ve been dating her for a while. She…we both see how much you care about her, and she cares about you. Stacey wants you to have someone special in your life. She’d never tell you, but she has often felt guilty that you never had a serious relationship. That being her father has somehow made you lonely.”

  “I’ve never been lonely a day in my life,” Jim said. “But like you, I didn’t see this thing with Jillian coming. I feel things for her I’ve never felt before. And it makes me feel like I’m letting you down, as well. All the attention should be on making sure you don’t get arrested, and making sure that idiot Gregory doesn’t ruin my daughter’s career.”

  “He does that, and I will haul off and hit the asshole,” Doug said.

  * * *

  Stacey sat in the family room on the large sofa overlooking the lake, her feet tucked under her butt, reading the files Jillian had been able to obtain regarding Mary’s death. The light from the moon and stars gleamed through the picture window. She’d heard Doug and her father come in, but she hadn’t had the energy to get off the sofa and greet them. It had been a long day of research, asking questions, calling in more favors, without much to show for it.

  Doug didn’t say a word as he sat next to her, looping his arm around her shoulder, leaning in to read the contents of the file.

  She tilted the paperwork so he could get a better look. Unfortunately for him, they were notes from the autopsy report of his late wife, but Stacey had promised not to keep anything from him. She vowed to keep that promise.

  “So, the cops think I drugged her, then killed her.”

  “Something like that,” Stacey said, “but obviously, they don’t have enough evidence, or they’d be hauling us in for questioning.”

  “What would be enough?” her father asked as he sat across the room on the other sofa, his back to the window.

  “To make an arrest, there has to be a smoking gun. Something that puts you and me with Bill and Mary in Paradise Bay,” Stacey said.

  “Gregory said he had a witness.” Doug rested his chin on her shoulder. “Someone who saw me and my boat there.”

  “If they had a credible witness, they’d put you in a lineup.”

  “Jillian mentioned that,” Jim said. “She’s concerned they might do that sooner than we
think.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Doug said.

  “I’m not liking the direction this is going, either.” Stacey flipped the page. Mary had been beaten. Not severely, but she had a few good bruises on her body. Then there was the trauma to her head. But that hadn’t killed her. Cause of death was strangulation, and then she’d been dumped into the lake. Stacey took Doug’s hand then held it up to her neck.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You’ve got some pretty big hands,” she said. “Trying to compare your hands on my neck to the bruising on Mary’s.”

  “That’s morbid.” Doug yanked his hand away.

  Stacey shook her head. “You can tell a lot by bruising, and it could prove you couldn’t have done it.”

  Doug lifted Stacey’s hand. “And then they go after the smaller pair, because they think we’re in this together.”

  “And I do know how to inflict some damage,” she said, “but still, based on what I’m reading, whoever beat Mary up was either hesitating, or wasn’t the strongest person on the block.”

  “Excuse me,” Jim said, glancing at his phone. “Jillian just arrived.”

  “Hope she’s got good news,” Doug said, taking the paperwork from Stacey, setting it on the coffee table, then brushing his hand across her thigh.

  His touch was soft and tender. His fingers glided across her kneecap, making a gentle circle. As soon as her father left the room, she leaned in and kissed Doug. It was short, but sweet. “How’d things go with him all day?”

  “Silent until right before we came home.” Doug ran his fingers through her long hair. “You’re always going to be his little girl. No one is ever going to be good enough. Mostly, he’s concerned about what’s going on, and that we’re moving too fast.” He cupped her face and gently pressed his lips against hers, parting them with his tongue. His kisses were always filled with a mix of sweetness and passion. He was tender, but powerful. “We did move too fast,” he whispered.

  “I don’t agree,” she said.

  “We’ve been in a constant state of upheaval. We turned to each other. Had Mary not died—been murdered—we’d be doing things much slower.”

  “No,” she said. “That first kiss on the sundeck? I knew then. It was the most powerful, sensual, perfect kiss.”

  “Where’s Jillian?” Doug asked as Jim entered the room.

  “Freshening up.”

  Stacey was often amused by her father’s old soul and old-fashioned ways, because no one she knew used the term ‘freshening up’ in reference to using the bathroom. Stacey always knew when her father fell for a woman; he’d fall fast and hard.

  He’d fallen. And Jillian was the perfect woman. She only regretted that her father had been keeping Jillian a secret for the last few months.

  Jillian entered the room with a sense of style and grace that Stacey wasn’t used to. Mary often tried to emulate it, but Jillian seemed to command it. Sophisticated, yet down-to-earth. Intelligent. Feminine, but not in a way that indicated weakness. Stacey noticed Jillian had brought an overnight bag that she set at the bottom of the stairs. “I bring with me some bad news,” she said, “but I’m not sure how bad.”

  “What does that mean?” Doug clenched his hands together over his lap, rubbing his right thumb against his left, something he used to do as a teenager whenever he’d been scared or nervous. Something Stacey hadn’t seen him do for years.

  “Olivia, Mary’s half-sister, gave the police an envelope that she received from Mary. All I know is that inside this envelope is a key to a safety deposit box, and some type of note indicating Mary thought she might be harmed, and if anything bad happened, Olivia was to give that key to the proper authorities.”

  The room went silent for a long moment as each person processed the information.

  “Why would she think she was going to be harmed?” Doug asked.

  “It seems a little cliché,” Stacey added as she snagged her phone then texted Jared. “I’m going to assume they are dusting the envelope for prints. Checking into handwriting, postage.”

  “If they don’t, I would certainly try to discredit whatever is in that safety deposit box. The bad news, though, is they got a warrant, and the box will be opened when the bank opens in the morning.”

  “What bank?” Stacey asked

  “One in Albany,” Jillian said.

  “That means Gregory doesn’t have jurisdiction.” Stacey thought that was a small but significant victory.

  “But he’ll be there,” Jillian said. “Reese is going, too, and I’d like Stacey to go with him.” Jillian held up her hand before Stacey could argue the million reasons why she shouldn’t be anywhere near that bank tomorrow. “First, I want you to keep rattling Gregory.”

  “I don’t like that idea,” Doug said. Jim readily agreed.

  “Jared actually suggested it to me,” Jillian said. “Reese will keep Stacey in check, but Jared seems to think something is wrong with Gregory. He’s has spoken to Gregory’s superior once, but would like enough to go over his head to the Sheriff. I also want you to set up lunch with your friend, Mary’s coworker, tomorrow. Pick her up at the office, if possible.”

  “That’s a little daring to shove me right in Gregory’s face.”

  “You’re on vacation, hanging out with your old partner, then catching up with an old friend.” Jillian sat next to Jim on the sofa in front of the big picture window. She glanced at Jim, smiling sweetly, but Stacey saw the concern in Jillian’s eyes.

  “Gregory is going to go off on me,” Stacey said.

  “Probably,” Jillian said, “but don’t you go off on him.”

  “Reese will help her keep her mouth in check,” Doug said.

  “My mouth is not that bad.”

  “It’s your temper we’re worried about,” her father said.

  “Look who’s talking,” Stacey shot back.

  “Any idea what might be in that deposit box?” Jillian asked, changing the subject. “Did you know she had one?”

  “No,” Doug said. “As I think about all this, I can come up with a dozen or so times that someone had a problem with Mary. After the first four months of our marriage, we pretty much stopped talking to each other about our lives. I didn’t know what was going on with her work, and she didn’t ask me about mine, but I do know she pissed off a few people to get into that firm and to make junior partner so quick.”

  “Do you know who?”

  Doug shook his head. “It’s after dinner time, and I’m hungry. Did you all eat?” He wasn’t one to offer to cook on a regular basis, except for breakfast, but often, when he wanted to be alone or think, and he didn’t have a hammer or pen and drafting paper, he went to the kitchen.

  He also had quite the appetite.

  “I haven’t,” Jillian said. “What do you have?”

  “Ever have shit on a shingle?” Doug stood, making his way toward the kitchen.

  “Sounds interesting. What is it?”

  “You’re about to find out,” Doug said.

  “Are you the only one who cooks around here?” Jillian had kicked off her pumps and rested her feet on the coffee table. She looked at ease, and at home. That calmed Stacey, similar to her response when Doug had moved in, as if the world might be complete and safe if only they could work out the sleeping arrangements.

  Stacey laughed. “He can only cook two things: French toast, and shit on a shingle. Otherwise, my dad does most of the cooking.”

  “Really?” Jillian seemed amused by that. “Mind if I use the shower?”

  “Go on up,” Jim said.

  Stacey noted how at ease her father seemed. It warmed her heart. She’d always worried he might be lonely. He never acted that way, but other than herself, Doug, and her grandparents, Jim had very little companionship. Once Doug was in the kitchen and Jillian upstairs, Stacey sat next to her father, resting her head on his shoulder like she had when she was a small child and he would tell her a story. She always tried to act bra
ve around her father, even when she was little and she’d gotten a scrape or a cut. She wasn’t much of a crier, and she tried to suck it up. She realized now, she got that from her father. Stoic and strong.

  She never thought her life was odd or different, though deep down, she knew it wasn’t the norm. Kids often picked on her, and she learned early to brush it off, often laughing about it. Owning it, as her grandmother once told her. “I like her,” Stacey said.

  “I’m glad.”

  “Why didn’t you ever have a serious relationship with anyone when I was growing up?”

  “Never the right time, nor the right woman.”

  “There were plenty of times, and plenty of eligible women. You could have had more children—hell, you still can. Jared is having another baby.”

  He looked down at her with an arched brow. “I’m not Jared, and I don’t think I could have handled another one like you.”

  “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”

  Her father laughed, wrapping his arm around her. “I focused my life on you. At first, because I truly loved—still love your mother, in a way. I thought she’d come back. But she didn’t. It took me a long time to get over her.”

  “But you did.”

  “I did,” he agreed. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of bringing someone into your life who might break your heart. Your mother wasn’t around, and when she was, she wasn’t really your mother. I’d seen friends growing up with step-parents, and often it didn’t end well, and I thought it would somehow damage you more than being without a mother. I tried to make everything so normal for you. Grandma and Grandpa helped a lot. Grandma always went to the mother-daughter things. I always thought you’d ask me more about your mother, and I swore if you asked, I’d tell you everything, but you never asked.”

  “Asked what?”

  “Why your mom left when you were born.”

  “She told me why she left when I was, like, ten.” Stacey’s mother called every holiday. They were more like pen pals than mother and daughter. It was a nice relationship. There were no pretenses. No broken promises. Stacey always knew her mother didn’t love her the way other mothers loved their children. At times, it bothered her. She didn’t understand it but she never felt it was her fault. Somehow, Stacey always knew her mother was the problem, not her.