It was a hell of a question, but at least he hadn’t made the connection between the black ski mask and the now-closed Nathan Robillard case.
She thanked him and hightailed it out of there, making her way down the hallway and then the stairs.
When she reached the stairwell door, she cracked it open and peeked down the hallway. Officer Chesterfield was standing directly in front of the precinct door, pressing his cellphone to his ear in what looked like an intense personal phone call.
If he spotted her, he would surely ask what she was doing there, so she waited it out, spying him from the crack in the door until he eventually tucked his cell into his back pocket, flung the precinct door open, and disappeared.
At that point, she walked briskly toward the entrance door and didn’t breathe until she was safely on the other side, where the temperature had cooled slightly and the sun was low in the sky.
She checked her wristwatch. She needed to get home before Scott did and there wasn’t much time.
As she made her quick way to her truck, she noted Scott’s truck was parked down the way, a good sign that he was still wrapping things up at the station before his time off, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t spill out of the Municipal Building right behind her.
She jumped in her truck, twisted the key hard as soon as she’d slid it into the ignition, and whipped her truck out of the parking lot and onto the road.
Driving home, she couldn’t wait to see Josephine. She had certainly gotten less attached to her daughter in the months that Maxwell had been babysitting, but it still stung to be away from her daughter all day. She should’ve asked the forensic assistant how long it might take to run the tests. She had been too nervous at the time and too eager to get out of there. Ideally, she would like to start her vacation with Scott knowing that the case really was closed, and because of this she hoped someone from the lab would call her either tonight or first thing tomorrow morning. Of course, she knew that was wishful thinking.
Just as she was climbing out of her truck after pulling up her driveway, her cellphone vibrated once and she assumed it was Scott sending a text about dinner. He had mentioned meeting here and then heading off to the supermarket with Josie. But when she glanced at the screen, she saw a number she didn’t recognize except for the area code.
She opened the text message.
If you want to place your bet, be at Vape Mods in ten minutes.
She took a deep breath. Was it still necessary to try and get in with these people now that she was having the ski mask tested for DNA? She thought not, but what if there wasn’t enough DNA on the ski mask for the forensic department to get a clear result?
She thought about Sandra Conway sitting in a jail cell because of her and her impulsive assumptions. Yes, she would be late for meeting Scott, but checking things out at Vape Mods was the least she could do to exonerate Sandra.
Throwing her truck into reverse, she swung around, then shifted gears and started down the driveway, challenged to get across town in the span of ten minutes.
She sped through the heart of Rock Ridge and when the road opened up again, she really flew.
Coming to a screeching stop in the strip mall parking lot, she checked the clock on the dashboard.
She was right on time.
All of the other stores on the strip were dark and closed. Vape Mods seemed so as well, but she saw a dim light illuminating the space.
She climbed out of her truck, taking a deep breath—should she have at least told someone where she was going? Should she have brought cash?
She pulled on the glass door when she reached it, but like last time, it was locked. So she knocked on the glass and took a step back.
A nervous moment later, a middle-aged man approached the glass door and opened it. He had the weathered face of an automotive mechanic, but was dressed sharply in dark slacks and a navy blue button-down shirt. Even his shoes screamed affluence—shiny leather with silver tips.
“You must be Kate,” he said in a throaty voice. “I’m Kiernan Kirkland. Come in.”
He held the door for her and she stepped inside, noting that the boxes were now gone and there were actual products under the glass counter.
“I understand you’d like to place a very specific bet with us?” he said and she turned, facing him.
Her response sounded brittle as she said, “That’s right.” She cleared her throat and added, “I consider it an investment.”
“It’s a fairly unusual investment,” he pointed out. “You seem to think one of my drag racers was responsible for Nathan Robillard’s death.”
“Am I wrong to think that?”
He narrowed his eyes at her, sizing her up, but said nothing. As he folded his arms, his brow furrowed thoughtfully and it was then she noticed the holster under his left arm and the gun tucked inside of it.
As thoughtful as he looked, she didn’t sense he was going to say something, so she went on, “I understand you’re the one who makes the decisions—”
“And I understand that you stole from my employees.”
Her heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t let her explain.
“Imagine how surprised Marcus was to find his toothbrush missing after you’d used his bathroom.”
Her eyes widened and the door felt very far away. She had no way of escaping. He was blocking her from it.
“And Hunter’s comb? Really?”
“I have sticky fingers?”
“What you have is a reputation,” he countered. “You don’t want to place a bet. You want to poke around. And you shouldn’t have taken that ski mask.”
He unfolded his arms, causing Kate to flinch. Her heart began pounding, and her instincts told her that he was going to draw his weapon, aim it at her, and perhaps kill her.
“My guys didn’t kill Nathan,” he asserted.
That could be true, but it didn’t mean Kiernan didn’t kill him himself. His guys could have been covering for him, hiding evidence.
“You’re going to walk away from this,” he threatened. “If you don’t...” he tapped his holster and smiled.
“You’re only confirming my suspicion.”
“I’m not confirming anything, and if you took those items to prove otherwise, you will be sorely mistaken.”
“I doubt that.”
“Why would I kill Nathan?” he challenged. “I was profiting from him.”
“But Hunter and Marcus weren’t. They were losing money.”
He snorted a laugh. “You don’t understand how it works.”
“Enlighten me.”
“We’re all on the same team. It’s racers against gamblers. It doesn’t matter who wins. We divide the loser’s money evenly and we never pay out more than we make.”
She found that hard to believe so she asked, “Then why did they have the killer’s ski mask in their possession?”
His expression hardened and after staring her down for a long moment, he held the door open for her.
“Next time I won’t give a warning. I’ll give an order and it won’t end well for you.”
She made her cautious way to the door then turned on her heel. “If anything happens to me, the police will know.”
“If you push your luck,” he said sternly. “It won’t matter what they know, because you’ll already be dead.”
It was a very long drive back to the house. Kate’s hands were shaking. What had she gotten herself into? She told herself it was only a matter of time before the DNA test results would come back. Kiernan would be arrested or Hunter or Marcus or all of them. If she was in danger, it wouldn’t be for long. But what if only one of them got arrested and the others came after her?
She pushed the thought from her mind, as she maneuvered her truck up the long and winding driveway to her house.
Dusk was pressing in, and she saw Scott’s truck parked near the front door. She pulled her truck up beside it, killed the engine, and climbed out.
Inside she found Scott b
ouncing Josie on his hip, while Maxwell collected his backpack.
“There she is,” said Scott with a big smile on his face. He cooed in Josie’s ear, “Mommy’s home.”
“How was she today?” she asked Maxwell, as Scott handed Josie off to her.
“Great,” he said. “She got a little sun. We played in the pool. She had several naps and ate a lot. So what’s the plan for the rest of the week?”
Kate exchanged glances with Scott and then explained, “We’d like you to come by in the evenings, but can we text you?”
He shrugged and said, “Sure,” and then let himself out after patting Josie on the head.
After the front door clicked shut, Scott gave Kate a kiss and asked, “My truck or yours?”
Chapter Ten
The next day, Kate woke with the sun. Scott’s side of the bed was cool and when she ventured out into the living room, she found him already up with Josie. They were seated on the couch, Scott holding a bottle and their daughter suckling down her breakfast.
“I’ll pump,” she said half asleep, as she wandered into the bathroom where she had left her breast pump and a few clean bottles.
After filling them, she walked through the living room and into the kitchen where she placed the bottles in the fridge and debated a cup of coffee. She hadn’t had a real, caffeinated cup of coffee in weeks because she reserved it as a rare treat. Scott had brewed a whole pot in his excitement for their week off and, quite frankly, the dark roast smelled too good to resist.
“Hey,” Scott called out from the couch. “I’m thinking about the park today, and then we could drive out to the zoo.”
“How far is it?” she asked, pouring herself a mug. Josie was fine with short car rides, but anything longer than a half hour and she got fussy.
“On the highway it shouldn’t take longer than twenty,” he told her, using his free hand to scroll through the website on his laptop computer, which was resting on the coffee table.
“Sounds good as long as we pack plenty of diapers and bottles.”
She sat on the chair adjacent to the couch and relished her coffee, drinking it slowly and giving her mind time to wake up. As soon as it did, she jolted for her cellphone, which she had left on the bedside table. She grabbed it quickly, but she had no new messages.
Damn.
When she returned to the living room, she sat beside Scott on the couch and stroked the wisps of red hair on Josie’s head.
“I just need to shower,” he told her. “But you can go first.”
After a long moment of relaxing with her coffee and watching her daughter slurp away, she went into the bathroom, enjoyed a long shower, and then dressed, selecting garments that looked nothing like the ones she worked in. Minutes later, she emerged wearing a light, yellow sundress and flip-flops. Scott passed Josie to her and she played with her daughter, swinging and bobbing her on her hip, while Scott showered and got changed into a pair of dark cargo shorts and a Hawaiian shirt she had never seen before.
It was more than bright. It was blinding.
“Like it?” he asked enthusiastically. “I bought it yesterday on my way home from the station.”
“It certainly screams vacation,” she laughed and they packed the baby bag for Josie and made their way out to Scott’s truck.
Once Josie was settled in her car seat and Kate was buckled in, Scott drove down the long and winding driveway and soon they arrived at the Rock Ridge Park.
A few joggers were out and there was a group of daycare kids at three of the picnic tables, so Scott proposed they set out their blanket in a shady area.
Kate kept her cellphone within reach as they settled on the blanket. Scott opened their picnic basket and pulled out a bottle of wine, which made her laugh out loud.
“Scott! It’s barely nine in the morning.”
“Oh, this is white. It’s very light. And this is my vacation!”
“Hey, no judgment here,” she said, plucking a Tupperware container full of cubed fruit out of the basket. There were muffins as well, so she grabbed one and it wasn’t until she had eaten to the point of nearly being full that she allowed Scott to pour her a very modest serving of white wine.
It didn’t take long for the temperature to rise, and between Scott excitedly drinking more and more wine and the heat, he soon lay down and dozed off.
Kate sighed. What could she do? It was his vacation after all. If he wanted to drink himself into a snooze, she couldn’t stop him.
Finally, her cell began buzzing on top of the blanket and she answered it quickly, as Josie waved and flung the Tupperware lid playfully.
“Yes?” she said, having barely brought her cell to her ear.
“Hi, Kate, it’s Milt calling from the forensic department.”
“Yes, great. Did you get a match?”
There was a brief pause and Milt said, “Well, yes and no.”
“What does that mean?”
“Neither the toothbrush nor the comb had DNA that matched the strands of hair we found inside the ski mask.”
“Okay...” she said, waiting for his explanation.
“But the hair did match someone we had in the database—”
“Great!” She blurted out. “Who?”
“One of our recent victims, Nathan Robillard.”
In frustration, she cursed then quickly apologized.
What the hell was going on? The killer took Nathan’s car and killed him wearing Nathan’s own ski mask. The killer also framed Sandra Conway. Why not take her car and find a ski mask in her house? The killer had obviously had access since he’d cut the piano wire from her baby grand. It didn’t make sense.
“And was that the only DNA you found on the ski mask?”
“No,” he said. “In addition to the hairs, there was also DNA inside the ski mask that was a match to unidentified DNA we found on the piano wire.”
Kate stiffened.
“Why didn’t you mention this was for the Nathan Robillard case?” Milt demanded.
She deflected by asking another question. “Have you tested Sandra Conway to see if the unknown DNA belonged to her?”
“Those results just came in today as well. She was not a match.”
Kate heaved a sigh of relief. At least she had proven Sandra couldn’t have killed Nathan. Even without the DNA match, there was an undeniable connection between Sandra and the murder weapon, but Sandra couldn’t have used the ski mask Kate found, and it did have a DNA match. Scott couldn’t argue with that.
“I’m going to have to tell Scott about this,” he added. “There’s nothing I can do to prevent it. He has to know.”
“Oh, please, can’t you say the ski mask was delivered anonymously?” she asked, but she knew he couldn’t. This was too important.
Why hadn’t either Hunter’s or Marcus’s DNA been inside of the ski mask? Or more accurately, Kate wondered, why did they have the ski mask if neither had done it?
She thanked him for his time, and Milt asked where he could send the bill. Grumbling, she told him he could email it to her and she’d take care of it as soon as she was home.
Scott murmured then startled himself awake. “How long was I out?”
“Not long, maybe fifteen minutes,” she told him, stroking his white hair. “But it looks like you might have gotten up too early this morning.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Because there’s no harm in taking a nap at home before we head out to the zoo. It’s on the way after all.”
He seemed to debate the idea, but the look on his face told Kate that if he took her up on the suggestion, he would only feel defeated.
Considering that Scott’s cellphone could ring any second with the forensic department on the other end, Kate had no choice but to come clean with what she had learned...and done.
“Honey?” she said, as Scott sat upright and poured more wine. It was too distracting, not to mention that she didn’t want him to pass out again, so she took the bottle.
“Scott.”
“Yes?”
“I need to tell you something.”
He looked worried and asked, “You’re not pregnant again, are you?”
She had to laugh. “No, nothing like that.” She took a deep breath and went on. “I don’t think Sandra did it.”
“Kate, the case is closed.”
“But your phone is going to ring any minute, and someone is going to tell you otherwise.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I did some digging.”
“Of course you did,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What did you find?” Before she could answer, he added, “And please don’t tell me it’s going to jeopardize our days off.”
She cringed.
“Kate,” he protested, reading her expression.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “But the wrong person is in jail.” When he gave her his full attention, she began explaining all that she had discovered. It was a rocky half hour.
Once she was finished, Scott fell into deep thought, contemplating all he had learned.
“So it’s not Hunter Cole or Marcus Wheaton?”
“No, the DNA on the ski mask only matched the DNA on the piano string, not the toothbrush and not the comb.”
“But you still think they had something to do with it?”
“Well, now I’m not sure. All I know is that Sandra didn’t,” she insisted.
“But they had the ski mask,” he pointed out.
“That’s what has me so confused...unless...”
“What?”
“Well, I didn’t get Kiernan Kirkland’s DNA. He could’ve done it and had the guys hide the ski mask... Though he made a solid argument for his innocence.”
Scott looked irate. “You think he might have done it and you went to talk to him? After everything you’ve been through, you’d put yourself in harm’s way like that?”
“Don’t be angry.”
“How can I not? God, Kate, you’re constantly tempting fate!”
“I mean, not constantly. Sometimes I take a few years off.”
If she’d meant to be funny, he wasn’t laughing.
Scott got to his feet and said, “Come on.”
Mrs. Fix It Mysteries: The Complete 15-Books Cozy Mystery Series Page 129