Statue of Limitations

by Kate Collins

  I took a few slow breaths, fluffed up my hair, pasted on a smile, and opened the door.

  “Athena?” Maguire gazed at me with a startled expression before giving my outfit a thorough sweep. “What are you doing here?”

  Officer Gomez, standing next to Maguire, was glancing around the interior as though expecting to see someone else there.

  “I came down to clean Pappoús’s boat so we can take it out this weekend. What are you doing here?”

  “We’re asking everyone to keep an eye out for this man,” Maguire said, showing me the WANTED poster that was now pasted all over town. “Have you seen him since the incident at your shop?”

  “No, not since that evening.”

  “We saw someone wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt enter this boat just moments ago,” Gomez said. “Was that you?”

  “Of course,” I said, trying to sound lighthearted. “Who else would it be?”

  “Just seemed odd to see someone wearing a hooded sweatshirt on such a warm evening,” Gomez said in his humorless voice. He paused to let that sink in. “Don’t you think?”

  I seemed to be doing a lot of odd things lately, and, fortunately, a lot of quick thinking, too. Luckily, I was getting better at it. I rubbed my arms as though chilled. “It doesn’t feel warm to me. But I’ve been a little out of sorts all day. Maybe I’m coming down with something.”

  That made them step back.

  Gomez nodded toward the utility closet. “What’s in there?”

  “Just supplies.” I opened the door so they could take a look, thanking my lucky stars I’d tucked Case’s things beneath my sweatshirt.

  As I closed the door, I asked Maguire, “ ‘What made you think this guy would be on my pappoús’s boat?”

  “We’ve received reports of unusual activity around here and were asked to check it out,” Maguire replied.

  “What kind of unusual activity?”

  “Someone reported seeing a stranger in the vicinity.”

  Case was going to have to be more careful from now on. I knew of at least two nosy couples who lived in houseboats in the harbor. “Trust me, Maguire. If I were to see any indication that a wanted man was anywhere near here, I’d be dialing 911 ASAP.”

  “Good enough,” Maguire said.

  “Hold it,” Gomez said. “Who is this pahpoo guy you keep talking about?”

  “That’s the Greek word for ‘grandfather,’ ” I said.

  I thought Gomez’s curiosity had been satisfied, but then he started toward the hallway that led to the bedroom, and I felt panic rise inside. I darted ahead of him and barred the way. “Where are you going? This is private property.”

  “We have orders to search the premises,” Gomez said.

  They had orders? I glanced at Maguire for help, but he merely said, “I’m sorry, Athena. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “But I just told you I’d contact you if I saw anyone suspicious.”

  “Step aside, ma’am,” Gomez ordered.

  My heart was racing so fast that I felt light-headed. If Case were hiding somewhere on the boat he’d be discovered now for sure, and there’d be no way to explain my way out of it. What had I gotten myself into?

  Then I remembered something Kevin had told me. Lifting my chin, I said defiantly, “I’m not moving until I see a search warrant.”

  Gomez pulled a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and handed it to me.

  My stomach did a three-hundred-sixty-degree flip and all of my quick thinking came to a halt. These men were serious; they’d come prepared. I looked over the document, but my hands were shaking so hard I had a difficult time focusing. Even so, I could see a judge’s signature on it.

  “Would you please step out of the way now, Athena?” Maguire asked.

  I had no choice but to move aside. As they began to search the boat. I thought I was going to be sick, so I walked back to the galley and grabbed a dishrag to wipe off the counter, trying to do something to calm my nerves.

  My first thoughts were of my family. What would they think when they found out I’d been harboring a fugitive? In Pappoús’s boat no less? And my fears multiplied from there. Would they think I’d lost my mind? What if I were hauled off to jail for harboring a fugitive? Would my reputation be ruined?

  And finally, I started wondering whether this whole ordeal was worth it. I tried to focus on all the reasons why I thought it was so vital to get involved: I’d keep an innocent man (I hoped) from being accused of a crime; I’d find justice for Harry Pepper and Talbot Sr.; and I’d stop Sonny from ruining the downtown. But the thought of being hauled away in handcuffs made it hard to keep that focus.

  A few minutes later, both officers returned to the galley, Gomez holding up the boat shoes I’d given Case to wear. “Who do these belong to?”

  I had to sit on a chair so my knees wouldn’t give out on me. Case had been wearing those shoes at the press conference, so he had made it back after all. That meant he was hiding somewhere on the boat.

  I realized the officers were still waiting for an answer and said as calmly as possible, “They belong to my pappoús. He keeps extra fishing outfits here.”

  “They’re damp,” Gomez responded instantly, his mistrustful gaze making me feel even more jumpy. “Has he used them recently?”

  “If they’re damp, I’m going to take a wild stab at it and say yes, he must have used them. But then I don’t keep track of my grandfather’s comings and goings. Should I be?” I knew I was running the risk of annoying him further, but being a jumpy, nervous wreck wasn’t working in my favor, either, so what did I have to lose?

  Gomez shot me a dark look, but surprisingly, I could see Maguire behind him holding back a smile.

  “Mind if we look around above deck?” Maguire asked, casually motioning to Gomez to put the shoes down.

  Did I mind? Did I have a choice was the better question. I shrugged nonchalantly. “Can I stop you?”

  As they clomped up the stairs with their heavy shoes, I went to the sink to glance out the window. Where was Case?

  I suddenly remembered the tall, thin cabinet where my grandfather kept his rubber boots and overalls. I waited a few seconds to make sure the police were above deck, then dashed to the bedroom and opened the cabinet door.

  Rubber boots and overalls. No Case.

  I sat down on the bed, head in hands. There was only one more place above deck that Case could be hiding. It would be just a matter of time until they found him there.

  Hearing a light tap on the porthole on one side of the V-shaped room, I hopped off the bed and ran to the window, bracing myself against the sudden rocking motion caused by a passing speedboat. But I spotted nothing that could have caused the noise. As heavy footfalls sounded on the deck overhead, I pressed my nose against the window for a better look, yet still saw only the shimmering blue lake.

  Suddenly a hand shot out of the waves, tapped the glass, and sank again.

  Case was hiding in the water.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  I pressed my hand against my heart to still its rapid beating. At least Case was on the port side, away from other docked boats. But what if he surfaced again and the police heard the splash? I knew he couldn’t stay beneath the water forever. And if they found him, the water would’ve washed away his fake tan and slicked back his hair. Even with the thick, dark scruff on his chin, he would still resemble the picture plastered all over town.

  I needed a distraction. Quickly.

  I twisted a lock of my hair. Think, Athena. What would get the cops away from the harbor?

  “Excuse me, ma’am?” said a voice behind me.

  I whirled around to see Officer Gomez standing in the bedroom door. “Yes?” I said, stepping away from the porthole.

  “We’re all finished here.”

  Maguire appeared behind him. “Sorry to have bothered you, Athena. We’ll let you get back to your preparations now. But please do me a favor and call if you see any—”

&n
bsp; A tap on the glass stopped him mid-sentence. Both men looked straight at the porthole.

  “What was that?” Gomez asked.

  “What was what?” Think, Athena. Fast!

  As Gomez made his way into the bedroom, an idea came to me. I began to smooth out the blue cotton coverlet to hide the fact that I was trembling inside as I said, “It must be the rope we use to tie the front of the boat to a pier. Sometimes it knocks against the side when another boat goes by.”

  Gomez looked back at Maguire as if trying to decide whether to believe me, then stepped up to the porthole anyway and peered out. I held my breath, feeling as light-headed as though I were the one underwater. Another tap and we were both caught.

  The seconds ticked by as Gomez waited for the rope to swing past again. If Case were anything like me, he would be just about out of breath.

  Then out of the blue my cell phone rang, and my breath came rushing out. I pulled the phone out of my pocket, saw Dad’s name on the screen, and another light bulb went on in my head. I had a plan, in fact, the perfect plan. I had to cough to cover my smile.

  Okay, high school drama class, don’t fail me now! “Hey, Papa, what’s up?” I asked, keeping my tone cool.

  “Did you just call me Papa? Thenie, is everything all right? I thought you were coming back to the shop.”

  “Wait, Papa. Slow down. You’re talking too fast. You saw who in the alley? Are you sure it was the guy on the poster?”

  Both officers were listening attentively now.

  “Okay, stay calm, Papa. I have two police officers with me right now and we’ll be there soon.”

  “Why are the police there?” Dad asked, clearly not catching on. “What’s going on?”

  “Just sit tight. We’re on our way. Trust me on this, okay?”

  “I got it.”

  “What’s the problem?” Gomez asked as I put my phone in my pocket.

  I slid past the officers and headed for the kitchen, forcing them to follow me. “My father believes he spotted the man you’re after in the lane behind Spencer’s.”

  Snatching my purse, I led the men out of the cabin and shut the door with a bang, hoping that if Case had surfaced, he would hear us leave. We crossed over onto the pier with me talking all the while. “My father is rattled, and he has a heart condition. I’d be devastated if something happened to him. I’d really appreciate it if you could check out the lane for him and put his mind at ease.”

  “Is he certain the man is still there?” Gomez asked, as Maguire used his collar microphone to radio in what was going on.

  “He didn’t say, but my sister Delphi is there. She may have seen him, too.”

  Damn! Why had I said that? Delphi could throw a hitch into my whole plan. “Look,” I said. “All I know is that there’s a murderer on the loose and you need to find him.”

  I crossed my fingers and kept going, putting more and more distance between us and the boat. As soon as we reached the street, I let out a sigh of relief. Now I just needed the cops to take off so I could call Dad and explain.

  As we approached the squad car, Gomez asked, “Where’s your vehicle?”

  “Parked by my shop. I walked down. It’s only five minutes away.”

  “We’ll drive you,” Gomez said, opening the back door for me. “We can get you there faster.”

  Damn! Another hitch in my plan. And what could I do? Say no and make him wonder why I’d refuse to take the fastest route? It was clear that Gomez didn’t trust me, and I wasn’t entirely certain Maguire did, either. The only alternative I had now was to send Dad a text and hope it reached him before we arrived.

  With my nerves shredding fast, I climbed inside, buckled up, and immediately took out my phone. As I began typing, Maguire activated the lights and siren and took off at breakneck speed. But before I could finish, we hit a bump and my phone went skittering across the bench seat to the opposite door. I tried to reach it without taking off my seat belt, but my arm wouldn’t stretch that far.

  Just as I was about to sidle out from under the chest strap to grab it, they pulled up in front of Spencer’s with a screech of tires. The two cops hopped out, Gomez swinging my door open for me. And there sat my phone with its unsent text message on the other end of the seat.

  Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the perfect plan.

  * * *

  As we entered the shop my thoughts were spinning as fast as the red and blue lights on the squad car outside. I could tell by the closed door that Dad was in the office, but how could I get to him before Gomez did?

  “Where’s your back exit?” Gomez asked.

  I pointed toward the rear of the store.

  “You go around the front and I’ll head out the back,” Gomez said to Maguire, one hand on his revolver. “We’ll get a statement from her father afterward.”

  As they headed off their separate ways, I felt sweat beading under my arms as I imagined how it was going to play out. They would look around, find no one, and come back inside to question my dad. I rubbed my temples. How had I managed to turn one bad situation into two?

  Then the office door opened, Dad came out and motioned me over.

  “What’s going on?”

  I heard the back door close and knew they were back.

  I fairly shoved him back inside the office. “Just play along with whatever I say. I’ll explain later.” I glanced around. “Sit at your desk and pretend you don’t feel . . . Here’s Officer Gomez now.”

  Gomez came inside and shut the door, watching Dad ease himself into his swivel chair as though he were an ailing ninety-nine-year-old instead of an active sixty-year-old. “Are you all right, sir?”

  I jumped in right away. “Yes, you sounded so frightened after seeing that man out back, Papa, that I thought I’d have to take you to the emergency room. Did you see any signs of the man, Officer?”

  “No, we didn’t.” Gomez got out a small writing tablet and flipped it open. “Sir, are you up to giving a description of this man?”

  “Maybe after a sip or two of coffee. Athena, would you make me a cup?”

  I hurried to pop a pod into the machine. As it brewed, I said. “Officer? A cup for you?”

  He shook his head, so I set Dad’s refilled cup on his desk. “Anything else you need, Papa? A moment to gather your thoughts?”

  “That would be helpful, dear,” he said, patting my arm. To Gomez he said, “When I get flustered, I have a dickens of a time remembering things.” He took off his glasses to polish them with a tissue. “Can you give me a minute?”

  “It’s best to get the story while it’s still fresh in your mind,” Gomez said. “Are there any details that stand out about the man you saw?”

  “Details.” Dad put his glasses back on. “Let me take a sip of my coffee while I try to recall exactly what I saw.” As he reached for the cup on the coaster, he somehow managed to push his long, yellow writing tablet forward, causing the tissue box near the edge to fall off the desk almost at Gomez’s feet.

  As the officer bent to pick it up, Dad raised his shoulders, giving me a flabbergasted look. That was my cue to jump in.

  “Over the phone you said he was wearing a leather jacket. Isn’t that right?” I asked, as Gomez set the box on the desk. “I think you called it a fancy suede jacket.”

  Giving me a glare, Gomez pointed to the chair next to the coffee machine. “Take a seat and be quiet.”

  Chastised, I sat down and clasped my hands together between my knees, trying once again to calm my jumpy nerves.

  “Can you describe the jacket, sir?” Gomez asked.

  Dad shot me a quick look for assistance. I was out of Gomez’s line of sight, but what could I describe through a gesture? A zipper?

  I’d started to mimic zipping up a jacket when Gomez turned to see what I was doing. I scratched my chin, then pressed my hands between my knees again, squeezing them even tighter. There was no way I could help Dad with Gomez watching me so closely.

  “Sir?” Gomez said i
mpatiently. “The jacket?”

  “Frankly, young man,” Dad said sharply, “I didn’t think I ought to stick around long enough to take that close of a look. It was a jacket and it was suede.”

  “Color?”

  I pointed to my hair.

  “Kind of a light brown I’d say.”

  I sagged back into the chair in relief. Go, Pops!

  Maguire opened the door and came inside. “The lane’s clear, Mr. Spencer.”

  Dad rubbed his chest, acting frail again. “That’s a relief. Are you fellows done now? I think I need to go home and lie down.”

  Gomez closed his notebook and rose. “That’s fine. I’m done here.” He gave me a skeptical glance as he joined his partner at the door.

  “Athena, thanks for your help,” Maguire said, holding up his hand in a parting gesture. To Dad he said, “I’m sorry for the trouble, sir. I hope you feel better soon.”

  As the cops made their way toward the front door, Delphi, who was now standing behind the counter, made sure Maguire noticed her and gave him a little wave. He flushed a deep red as he tipped his hat to her and tried to hold back a delighted smile.

  Perfect. That would make his day and maybe he’d be someone I could tap for information later on. As soon as the officers were gone, I gave my sister a V for victory, then turned to see my father standing in the office doorway. I gave him a smile.

  He wasn’t smiling back. “Come into the office, young lady. You’ve got some explaining to do.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Dad settled into the leather desk chair, leaned back, and folded his arms, while I sat across from him feeling like a guilty ten-year-old.

  “Tell me what’s going on. Why did you send the police on a wild goose chase?”

  “Well”—I scratched my forehead, trying to stall while I thought my way out of telling him the truth—“it’s a long story, and it’s getting close to closing time.” I lowered my voice. “And I really don’t want Delphi to know anything about it, so could we talk tomorrow morning before she gets here?”

  He got up and locked the door. “Then give me the short version and we’ll call it a day.”