by C. B. Clark
“They found another piece of the murder victim’s scarf hidden in your motel room.”
“Impossible!” Declan wanted to pace, but now there was even less room in the cell.
“This whole scenario stinks like bad fish. It’s obvious someone’s framing you.”
“Just like before.”
“Someone has a serious hard-on for you. They want you to go down for this, real bad.”
“What about the kidnapping charge? What do they have to connect me to kidnapping my own daughter?”
“An eyewitness saw you. A tip was called in to the Sheriff’s Office last night after Bonnie was reported missing.”
Declan stared hard at the private investigator. “Who made the call?”
“They’re not saying.”
“But that’s bullshit!” Declan jumped to his feet. “They can’t hold me because some idiot said he saw me. He was probably riding high on a snout full of cheap hooch.”
“They can, and they are. They’re trying their damnedest to gather some hard evidence against you.”
“Well, good luck. They won’t find anything. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Unless someone plants something else to implicate you.”
He stared at the other man, his mind spinning. Unless someone plants something. Like they had in the barn, and in Carrie Ann’s car, and again in his motel room. A chill settled over him. He’d never clear his name. He’d never get out of here.
“Don’t lose hope yet,” said Caruthers as if reading his mind. “I have a few leads I’m following.”
The deputy pushed away from the wall and approached.
Their time was up.
“I’ll be back later today or tomorrow to fill you in. Stay strong, and for God’s sake, keep your mouth shut. Don’t say anything to anyone. They’re itching to convict you.”
Declan slumped on the cot. A sour reek rose from the thin mattress, even thinner pillow, and the gray, scratchy, wool blanket. He closed his eyes and fought to slow the wild riot of thoughts racing through his mind. Someone wanted him to go to jail for the rest of his life for crimes he hadn’t committed. If he ever got out of here, he’d find the bastard. No, not if, when he got out of here he’d—
The screech as the door down the hall opened halted his thought. The soft tread of feet drew nearer. He didn’t open his eyes. Let whoever his visitor was think he was asleep. Maybe they’d go away and leave him the hell alone.
The scents of roses and vanilla wafted in the air, subduing the ever-present reek of urine, vomit, and misery hanging over the cell like a dark cloak. He breathed in the scent, savoring the familiar smell and all the memories connected to it. For a brief second he forgot where he was, but then his eyes flew open.
Carrie Ann stood outside his cell watching him. “Hey.” Her full, red mouth trembled in a smile.
His hungry gaze devoured the sight of her long, auburn hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights, her amber eyes sparkling with gold flecks. She wore tight-fitting blue jeans and a blouse the exact color of her eyes. She’d never looked more stunning. His heart thudded, and his mouth lost all moisture, but then he remembered where he was, and he jerked up. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Her smile faded. “I wanted to see how you were.”
“How do you think I am? I’m locked in jail charged with murder and kidnapping.” His voice was too harsh, his tone accusing, but he couldn’t stop. He jumped to his feet, driven by the need to expend the fury threatening to detonate inside him. He stormed across the cell, turned and strode back, and again and again, unable to halt his frenzied pacing.
“I’m sorry.” She shifted from one foot to the other, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Being stuck in this cell can’t be easy.”
“How’s Bonnie?”
“She’s doing great. I can’t believe it, especially after what she’s been through. The doctor said Bonnie had been given a shot of midazolam. That’s why she had a hard time waking up.” She rubbed her arms as if she were chilled. “That stuff could have killed her.”
Silence settled over them as he continued his endless pacing. Finally, he asked the question lurking in the forefront of his mind ever since he’d opened his eyes and seen her standing outside his cell. “Why are you really here?”
“I want you to know I’m going to do everything I can to get you out of here.”
He snorted. “Did you bring a file?”
“I mean it, Declan. I’m going to prove you’re innocent.”
His heart swelled at her words, but he clamped off the spurt of hope. “No, you’re not.”
“I’m not?”
“You and Bonnie are going back to Seattle.”
She shook her head. “You need my help.”
“You can’t help me. No one can. The best thing you can do is return to your life and forget me. Look after our daughter.” The further away from him she was, the better. He refused to drag her and Bonnie any deeper into this nightmare. Look what happened the night before. He’d almost lost his daughter for the second time.
“You have everything figured out, don’t you?” She stepped closer to the wall of metal bars. Her eyes blazed.
“Get the hell out of here.” He turned his back on her. Go. Go before I change my mind and beg you to stay.
“I’m not leaving town. I did once before. I won’t desert you again.”
“You’re a bloody fool if you don’t.”
“Well then, I’m a fool.” She turned and walked down the hall toward the exit.
He couldn’t stop himself. “Carrie Ann,” he called.
She paused and glanced back.
“You didn’t ask me.” He gripped the bars, his knuckles white, his heart beating a mile a minute.
“Ask you what?”
“You didn’t ask if I kidnapped our daughter.”
“I don’t have to.”
Their gazes met.
“I know you didn’t.” She opened the door and disappeared through the opening. The door swung closed behind her with a loud squeal.
Even though he knew he should have pushed harder to make her leave town, he couldn’t help the spurt of joy. She believed in him. He released his hold on the cold metal and backed into the middle of the cell, smiling his first real smile in hours.
Why hadn’t he realized sooner? His smile widened. The sheriff had called his daughter Bonnie McAllister last night when he’d read the charges against him. At the time, he’d been too upset to notice. His chuckle filled the freezing cell, echoing off the cement walls. Carrie Ann had given Bonnie his last name.
A flood of warmth washed over him. He had a daughter named Bonnie McAllister! He couldn’t stop grinning. He lay back down on the bed and thought of his wonderful daughter. Bonnie McAllister. With a smile on his lips, he slipped into sleep.
Chapter 29
Carrie Ann left the Sheriff’s Office, drove through downtown and turned onto the highway. After two miles, she swung left onto a narrow, blacktopped lane. The track opened onto a large, empty, parking area. She halted before a chain link fence and regarded the baseball field in front of her.
How many Little League games had she played here? She’d watched even more ball games in the long, hot days of summer during high school. The local baseball team had been county champions one season. That year, the small stands had been filled to the limit, with everyone in town attending and cheering on the Cooper’s Ridge Cougars.
The outfield, more weeds than Kentucky Bluegrass, was in desperate need of mowing. Bare patches of dirt covered the infield, nearly obliterating the bases. The green paint on the two wooden dugouts on either side of home plate was faded and peeling. The old concession stand leaned drunkenly to one side, its single window boarded shut. Graffiti covered the stained walls. Crushed soda cans and empty, torn, popcorn containers were heaped against the rusted, mesh fence. An aura of desolation surrounded the park. The Cougars must be losing these days.
Sheldon was
late. He’d called this morning and begged to see her. At first, she’d put him off. She didn’t want anything to do with him. Not after the way he’d lied all these years. But he’d insisted, and she finally relented.
She left her car and crossed the parking lot. Squeezing through the opening in the chain link fence, she stepped onto the damp grass of the infield and headed for the wooden bleachers on the far side. The bleachers’ rickety steps creaked and groaned under her weight as she climbed to the top and sat on a scarred, wooden bench. The surrounding ballpark and empty parking lot were in clear view. Sheldon had wanted to meet here. He’d wanted someplace private where he could talk. This deserted ballpark certainly fit the bill.
Declan had been in jail twelve hours, and she still hadn’t figured out a way to help him. This meeting with Sheldon had better not be a waste of time.
She’d called Jessup Caruthers as soon as she’d left Declan’s holding cell. He’d told her Declan’s lawyer was confident Declan would be released on bail in a day or two. A day or two! Would Declan survive in lockup that long? His incessant pacing reminded her of a caged animal. She’d expected anger, even outrage; but instead, the sour smell of defeat emanated from him. He’d given up. The dull, beaten look in his eyes frightened her more than anything.
“What took you so long?”
She jumped, startled out of her thoughts.
Sheldon appeared from under the bleachers and slowly mounted the steps and sat beside her. His cheeks were flushed, and he was out of breath as if he’d been running.
“I didn’t see you arrive.” She looked at the empty parking lot. “Where’s your car?”
“I parked down the road a ways and walked.” He hunched into his coat, and his gaze darted around the ballpark.
“Is everything okay?” She followed his gaze, but couldn’t see what he was looking for.
“I hope so.” He stared at the entry road to the park. Beads of moisture shone on his high forehead, and his hands tapped a rapid beat on his thighs.
“Are you expecting someone?” She wanted him to get to the point. Declan was in jail. Every minute counted until he was free.
He withdrew a handkerchief from his coat pocket and dabbed his face. “You didn’t tell anyone you were coming here, did you?”
“You told me not to.”
Some of the tenseness seemed to leave his body, and he slumped, but his gaze kept darting between the parking lot and the entry road.
“What’s going on?” She frowned at him. “What’s so important you had to see me right away?”
He cleared his throat. “This whole mess started a long time ago when I was a scrawny, pimply-faced kid whom everybody and their dog picked on. I was an outsider, but I wanted to be like everyone else. Just once.” His eyes were imploring. “You don’t know how much my life sucked. I didn’t have any friends. No one liked me.” He wiped the handkerchief over his reddened eyes. “Sometimes I wondered if even my parents cared for me.”
“You had Declan.” Her eyes stung as a rush of unexpected pity filled her. “He was your friend.”
“Was he? Or did he just feel sorry for me?”
“He was your friend. We both were.”
He met her gaze, his watery eyes searching. “I see that now.” He drew another deep breath and released it with a loud whoosh. “When I was sixteen, I…” His Adam’s apple bobbed in his thin throat. “I bought some drugs. I wanted something to relax me, to make me…” He shrugged. “Make me more likable.”
“We all tried drugs then. Smoking dope wasn’t a big deal.” She tried to ease his mind.
“You don’t understand.” He wiped his gleaming brow again. “I bought some pills from a kid at school. I’m not sure what they were, but he promised they’d give me a high I wouldn’t forget. I snuck some booze from my dad’s liquor cabinet. I thought…” He shrugged again. “I don’t know what I thought.”
She glanced at her watch. What did this have to do with Declan sitting in a jail cell? “Look, Sheldon—”
He cut her off. “Let me finish. Events sort of happened. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” He rubbed his hair, tousling the thin strands into orange spikes. His leg bounced up and down in a rapid tattoo shaking the bleachers.
Fingers of unease rippled along her spine. “What did you do, Sheldon?”
“You have to understand. I was drunk and stoned out of my mind. I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t see the other car.”
“You hit someone?”
He nodded.
“Oh, my God. Was anyone hurt?”
“I heard the other driver was in the hospital for a while.”
“What do you mean, you heard the driver was in the hospital? Didn’t you stop and help?”
“I couldn’t. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. You have to understand, if my father found out I was drunk and stoned and driving and…and I hit someone, he’d have killed me. The police would have arrested me. I’d never be able to join the family business, not with a criminal record.” He stared at her with pleading eyes. “Don’t you see? I couldn’t let one, stupid mistake ruin my life.”
“So you left the injured driver of the other car lying on the road?”
“I called the police anonymously. I told them there’d been an accident and to send an ambulance.”
“But you didn’t stay to help.”
He shook his head.
She nodded. “Okay, you made a mistake, but this all happened a long time ago. What’s it got to do with what’s happening now to Declan?”
He fumbled in his coat pocket and pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes and a shiny metal lighter. His hands shook as he tugged free a cigarette and placed it between his lips and flicked the lighter. When the cigarette finally glowed to life, he sucked in a breath, inhaling smoke deep into his lungs. The nicotine seemed to calm him because after two more puffs, his breathing slowed, and he continued his sordid tale. “I thought I was in the clear, but two weeks after the accident, Judge Winters called. He told me he’d seen what I’d done, and I was facing criminal charges. He was going to have me arrested.” He blew out a cloud of smoke. “I freaked. My life was over.
“But then he said he could make the charges go away. He’d snap his fingers, and the entire mess would vanish as if it never happened. But he exacted a price for his silence.” His throat worked. “He wanted me to do stuff for him.”
She jumped to her feet. “I don’t believe you. Leland would never resort to blackmail. If he saw someone commit a crime, he’d have him arrested.”
“I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” Sheldon stood and tossed his cigarette on the bleacher floor and stomped on the butt, grinding it beneath his boot. “Tell Declan I’m sorry.” He lurched toward the steps leading to the ground.
Her mind whirled. Was he telling the truth? He couldn’t be, but what if he was? “Sheldon, wait!”
He paused, but didn’t look back at her.
“What sort of things did Leland ask you to do?”
He shrugged. “Little things at first—running errands for him, passing on information I learned from kids at school—nothing terrible. I helped him make Cooper’s Ridge a better town. I mean, I wasn’t hurting anyone, not really.”
An uneasy foreboding filled her. “What else did he ask you to do?”
He sank onto the bench, his shoulders hunched as if he were in pain.
“The night Skye was murdered, Judge Winters told me to find Declan and drive him back out to the farm.”
“You’re lying.” The words exploded out of her, but a cold tremor washed along her back, and she shivered.
“I swear, I’m telling you the truth.”
“You’re not making any sense. Why would Leland ask you to take Declan back out to the farm?” She tried desperately to think over the pounding in her head.
“Don’t you get it? He wanted Declan to look guilty. He wanted people to think Declan murdered Skye.”
“You set up Declan.”
&nb
sp; “Do you think I wanted to betray my only friend? I didn’t have a choice. Judge Winters said he’d tell the sheriff about the accident, and I’d go to jail if I didn’t help him.” He choked on a sob. “I couldn’t face prison.” His eyes, red-rimmed and filled with tears, turned pleading. “Do you know what they do to guys like me in prison?”
“That’s not all you did, is it?” Anger flashed over her in a hot wave. “You called the sheriff last night and told him you saw Declan kidnap Bonnie.”
Guilt was written all over his pale, freckled face. “I didn’t have a choice. Judge Winters made me call the sheriff, and he told me what to say.”
She rubbed her temples. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Declan’s my friend. I can’t stand by any longer and watch him go through hell for crimes he didn’t commit.”
“Yet you were content to watch him suffer for the past twelve years.”
His mouth opened and closed like a fish fighting for air. “Carrie Ann, you have to understand. It was—”
“You disgust me!” She yanked her cell phone from her pocket.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m calling the sheriff.” Her fingers shook, and she cursed as she hit a wrong digit and had to redial. “You’re going to tell him what you told me. After that, you can go straight to hell as far as I’m concerned.”
Tears leaked from his eyes. “I deserve all the punishment coming to me, but please don’t call the sheriff. I’ll talk to him. I promise. I’ll tell him everything. Just don’t call him.”
“Why don’t you want me to call him?”
He sniffed and swiped his face with his sleeve. “I don’t want Judge Winters to know, not until it’s too late for him to do anything about it. I know him, Carrie Ann.” A visible shudder ran through his thin body. “Leland Winters is a monster. He’ll stop at nothing to silence me if he thinks I’m going to rat him out.” Fear radiated off Sheldon in palpable waves.
She narrowed her eyes, studying him, trying to discern the truth. Was he lying? He had to be. Leland was highly respected in Cooper’s Ridge. He’d been the Judge for the county for years. Before that, he’d been the District Attorney. Everyone trusted him. Everyone respected him. Sheldon, on the other hand, had been caught in one lie already. Why should she believe him now?