by Rita Herron
Deke muttered a curse. “It looks like we’re too late. Someone beat us here.”
Elsie gasped. Dr. Mires was slumped over his desk, pale and still. Blood seeped from his chest onto his desk and papers.
He had been murdered.
“His medical files are ruined,” Deke said with another curse as he gestured to the shredded papers on the floor.
Elsie staggered slightly and started to touch the desk, but Deke cut her off. “Don’t touch anything, Elsie.”
She dropped her hand immediately. He was right. She didn’t want her fingerprints anywhere. If the sheriff found out about her baby, he might accuse her of killing Mires out of some twisted need for revenge.
Deke growled. “All the files connected with Wildcat Manor have been destroyed.”
Hope for finding out anything on the girls died.leared her throat. “Who do you think shredded them—Dr. Mires or his killer?”
DEKE PHONED THE SHERIFF. As much as he hated working with Bush, he had to report a crime or the ignorant man might try to pin it on him and Elsie.
“Sheriff, I’m at Dr. Mires office. You’d better get over here ASAP. Mires has been murdered.”
A string of expletives exploded over the line. “I’ll be right there. Don’t touch anything,” Bush ordered.
“We haven’t.”
“We?”
“Miss Timmons is with me.”
“That figures,” Bush bellowed. “That girl has done nothing but cause trouble ever since she arrived in town. Just like those orphan teens did years ago.”
“Elsie had nothing to do with this,” Deke barked. “She happens to be the victim here. And if you were any kind of sheriff, you’d be on top of the threats against her, just like you should have been on top of the abuse taking place years ago.”
Rage pumped through his system as Deke ended the call. For Elsie’s sake, he gathered his self-control. If he didn’t, he’d get locked up for assaulting Bush when he arrived.
Five minutes later, the sheriff roared up, siren blasting. No sooner had he stepped inside than the medical examiner appeared, along with another crime scene unit from the county. The sheriff cordoned off the area while the group immediately went to work, assessing the body and collecting evidence.
“We’ll need both your footprints and fingerprints,” one of the CSI team members said.
Elsie hesitated, and Deke realized she was thinking of her police record. But they had discovered the body and had no choice but to cooperate.
“What were you two doing here?” Bush asked.
“We came to question Dr. Mires about the dead bodies we found earlier.”
“I’ve known Mires a long time,” Bush said. “He had nothing to do with those deaths. And he’d never cover up a murder.”
Deke made a disgusted sound. “How about you, Sheriff?” He leaned so close to Bush’s face that Bush flinched.
“I don’t like your implications, boy.”
“And I don’t like the fact that you warned Miss Timmons and me to leave town when we arrived.” He folded his arms across his chest. “With multiple murders now, it’s time to call in the FBI. I have a feeling they’ll be very interested in learning about the adoptions, the abuse and the murders at Wildcat Manor.”
“Get this straight, Falcon. I didn’t cover up those murders. And we don’t need the Feds. I can handle this case.”
Deke speared him with a lethal look. “Like you took care of those orphans?”
Bush twitched. “I didn’ Hodges was abusing them or I would have stopped it!”
“You’re lying,” Deke said.
“Get out of here before I lock you up for interfering with an investigation.”
Elsie tugged at Deke’s sleeve. “Let’s go, Deke. He’s not going to help us any more than he did years ago.”
Sheriff Bush jabbed a finger at Deke. “I told you I knew nothing of the abuse and that’s the truth.”
“And the adoptions?” Deke asked.
“I said get of here,” Sheriff Bush ordered.
Deke’s instincts kicked in. He would call the Feds, but he wanted even more to tell them. “That’s the real reason you don’t want us around, isn’t it?” Deke lowered his tone to a menacing pitch. “You’re afraid we’ll find information on the adoptions. Did you adopt one of the babies yourself?”
DID YOU ADOPT one of the babies yourself?
Deke Falcon’s questions hit far too close to home for Sheriff Bush to draw a moment of peace.
He harbored no false illusions that Falcon would give up his quest. Or that he wouldn’t call the Feds. And Elsie Timmons was nothing like the frightened obedient girl who’d first come to Wildcat Manor, seeking approval, love and a place to hide.
She had set the fire that had killed Hodges. But he hadn’t pressed charges, hadn’t looked for her, because frankly, he did have a conscience, and he was glad she’d escaped.
But he’d never imagined that she’d return. As far as he was concerned, the adoptions had all been legal. The babies were better off. The teens had been given a chance for a new life without a kid in tow. And young couples had been handed a gift.
What was the harm?
Except for Hodges—he had gone too far. Some of the infants had been his….
The ill feeling he’d had when he’d first discovered the truth still plucked at his humanity.
Damn it, it was too late now. He couldn’t let the lives of those parents and their adopted children be ruined because of Elsie Timmons and some damned obsessive P.I. What was done was done.
He glanced at Mires, sorry he was dead and wondering who had shot him. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he contemplated the possibilities. He had to know for sure.
The M.E. looked up at him with a sour, worried expression. “Estimated cause of death, gunshot to the heart. He bled out.”
“What type of gun?”
“Looks like a .38.”
Sheriff Bush gave a brisk nod. Did Donna or Eleanor have a .38?
The CSI team was wrapping up. “We have several sets of prints,” Aaron, one of the regulars he’d dealt with before, reported. “We’ll let you know what we fin
“Thanks. I’ll be waiting on your report.” He scrubbed a chunky fist over his chin. “Do you have anything on those vics we found at Wildcat Manor?”
Aaron’s face grew solemn. “Not yet. But we’re getting dental records from Dr. Simmerman. We should have IDs soon.”
“Then we can run them and let the parents know.” That is, if they could find them. It had been ten years. Some of the kids had been runaways while some had been unwanted, their parents having abandoned them. But he had a job to do and he would do it.
He also had to cover his ass.
He jotted down notes about the crime scene, position of the body, items on Mires’s desk, the shredded files and decided to take a look through Mires’s computer. But when he went to access the files, he discovered the computer had crashed.
Had the killer destroyed the files and crashed the doctor’s computer to get rid of the evidence linking them to the orphanage, or had Mires?
When the CSI team finished and Franks had completed his initial report, they loaded Mires onto the stretcher to transport him for an autopsy. Sheriff Bush had to find Donna and Eleanor. He had a lot of questions for both of them.
He only prayed they hadn’t killed Mires. If so, he had to find a way to cover for them. It was the only way to keep Donna in his life.
ELSIE WAS STILL FUMING from the sheriff’s hostile reaction. But Deke assured her that Bush’s attitude had more to do with being frightened because they were close to finding the truth than it did with his integrity or desire to find justice.
Could Deke be right? Although when Deke had asked Bush if he’d adopted one of the children, he’d reacted suspiciously. Then Bush denied having a child, which was easily verifiable. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know someone who had adopted a baby from the manor. Someone he cared about and wanted t
o protect.
For that, she couldn’t blame him. She sympathized with both birth mothers and parents who adopted. If her child was alive and had been adopted out, what would she do now? Look for her? Let her little girl stay in the secure family who had taken her in at birth, or uproot her world?
It was a moral dilemma that she didn’t have to face, but others would if the entire truth were revealed.
Five minutes later, they pulled up to the medical examiner’s office just as he arrived. The ambulance delivered Mires’s body, while she and Deke cut Franks off at the entrance.
“If you continue to follow me, I’m going to file a restraining order and charge you with harassment,” Franks snapped.
Deke gave him a menacing look, but didn’t budge. “You lied to us when you claimed that no babies were lost at the manor. I saw a tiny grave today for myself. The one that belongs to Elsie’s little girl.”
Frank’s wide brown eyebrows shot up. Surprise or was he faking his reaction?
“I didn’t lie. I never took care of any deceased infants or children at that orphanage.”
“You didn’t perform an autopsy on her baby?”
Elsie shivered but stood her ground beside Deke, determined to get answers.
“No.”
“Did Hodges tell you about the baby?”
“No. I never knew what happened. I assumed the child was adopted.”
“What about Mires?” Deke pressed. “I can’t imagine him not confiding in you.”
“Maybe he was afraid he’d get busted, and he didn’t want anyone who could testify against him.”
“Are you sure you didn’t know about my daughter?” Elsie pleaded. “I just want to know if I could have done something to have saved her.”
Franks grimaced and turned away. “I’m sure Mires did everything possible for your child.”
Elsie inhaled a deep breath. “He said she had the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck. That she wasn’t breathing.” The memory swept her back to the despair she’d felt that day. “He claimed he tried to revive her, but it was too late.”
“I’m sorry,” Franks said, a note of sincerity to his voice. “But sometimes things are beyond our control, Miss Timmons.”
Elsie heard his words, but she couldn’t accept them. If she’d taken better care of herself, run from Hodges before he’d gotten his hands on her, she might have saved her child’s life. And nothing could ever convince her otherwise.
“What did they tell the family who’d already signed up to adopt my baby?”
“I’m the wrong person to ask these questions,” Franks replied. “Perhaps you should speak to the social worker who handled your case.”
“We intend to do that,” Deke said. “Maybe she’ll give us an honest answer.”
Elsie hardened her heart to this man. She sensed he was lying, that he knew more about her baby than he’d admitted. And if she found out that was true, she and Deke would be back.
KNOWING ELEANOR hadn’t always been stable, and that he had to inform her of her brother’s death, Bush phoned her first, but there was no answer. Anxious as to how she’d react, and curious if she had killed Mires, he drove to her house, but the lights were off, the house bathed in darkness. He parked and climbed out, then strode up to the door anyway. Maybe she was asleep, her kids tucked safely in bed, the knot of anxiety yanking at his chest an overreaction.
She and Donna would not do something so stupid as to shoot the doctor. For God’s sake, he was Eleanor’s brother. She owed him.
He knocked on the door, then rang the doorbell but no one responded. They had to be asleep. The baby kept her up at night. She’d probably gone to bed early.
But still worry niggled at him, so he peeked through the gl in the garage window. It was empty. Damn. He’d hoped he’d find her and get the news over with. And he’d hoped she’d assure him that she hadn’t been anywhere near Dr. Mires’s office earlier. Now, he didn’t know what to think.
He had to talk to Donna.
Leaves swirled on the ground in front of him as he rushed back to the car, the clouds obliterating the moon and stars, as if darkness had swallowed the sky forever.
Twelve years ago it had started. All when Hodges had opened that orphanage. He’d thought the night of the fire that that dark spell had ended.
But it hadn’t. Over the years, the evil had festered like a sore rotting away the skin and eating at the soul of the people in town. The secrets. The lies. The town of the damned. No one came or stayed here without being scarred by its evil.
A pain ripped through his chest, and he inhaled sharply, massaging the knot of anxiety. He felt as if he was having a damn heart attack. Yanking open his glove compartment, he grabbed the aspirin bottle, uncapped it and tossed back an aspirin. Then he leaned over the steering wheel and heaved for a steadying breath, trying to calm himself while he punched in Donna’s number. She didn’t like it when he called her home, and he hoped to hell her old man wasn’t around, but he had to see her.
She answered on the third ring. “Sheriff,” she said in a low voice. “I thought you weren’t going to call me at home.”
“It’s important. I have to see you. Now.”
“What’s going on?” she whispered.
“We’ll talk when we meet. Is Billy Rae there?”
“Yes.”
“Is he sober enough to watch the kid?”
“Yes, Carly’s already gone to bed.”
“Then make up an excuse to get out. I’ll meet you at our regular place.”
She hesitated. “Give me fifteen minutes.”
He hung up, then drove through the foggy night toward the deserted cabin they used off Hardscrabble Road in the mountains. Anxiety to see Donna tonight, even if it was to question her, sent excitement through his veins. God, how he loved that woman. If only she’d leave Billy Rae….
He stopped to pick up a bottle of wine just in case she had time for some loving, then sped up the icy road. Five minutes later, he let himself in, started a fire and lit the kerosene lamp. Tucked away in the mountains near Satan’s Falls, the cabin was surrounded by nature, a perfect place for their rendezvous. Trees hid their cars, just as they’d had to hide their feelings for the past few years.
A howl from somewhere in the forest echoed in the wind, and he thought of the ghosts and wild animals that surrounded them, the supposed werecats and bobcats, the devil. He should have moved away from here years ago like that social worker, Renee Leberman, had. Then he wouldn’t be dealing with this crap now. And maybe Donna would have run away with him.
Her Toyota rumbled up the graveled drive, and he peeked outside to make sure no one had followSeconds later, she rushed into the room, looking flushed and nervous.
“What’s this about, Wally?”
He wanted to touch her, but first he had to know the truth. “Dr. Mires was murdered tonight.”
She gasped and fidgeted with her coat.
“Donna, did you or Eleanor have something to do with this?”
Her face paled, and she sank down onto the faded sofa, the firelight flickering across her cheeks. “Why would you ask that?”
“I know you were with Eleanor this afternoon. I saw the two of you in town.” He cleared his throat, hating to doubt her, but the need for the truth pushed him on.
“Tell me, Donna. Did the two of you kill him?”
Chapter Fourteen
“I want to talk to Renee Leberman tonight,” Deke said as he and Elsie left the medical examiner’s office.
Elsie tugged her coat tighter around her, wishing the brutal weather would relent. She couldn’t remember when she’d seen the sun. Did it ever shine on this godforsaken mountain?
“It’s time I faced her, too.” Renee’s job had been to protect them, not let them be used by a monster.
“Where does she live?” Elsie asked.
“Outside of Nashville.” He traced a finger along her hand. “You look exhausted, Elsie. Why don’t you grab a nap whil
e I drive?”
Elsie slid deeper into the warmth of her coat and the car and closed her eyes. Deke was right. She was exhausted. Yet someone was still after her. Someone who wanted her dead.
Which meant that she and Deke had to be close to finding the truth about who wanted to keep her quiet.
Deke’s fingers brushed her cheek. “Go on and relax. You’re safe right now. I promise to take care of you.”
Just this once, she closed her eyes and allowed Deke’s words to assuage her worries. She was safe with him.
She yawned and snuggled closer to him. As she drifted to sleep, she wondered what it would be like to spend every night with him. Safe by his side. In his arms. Making love until dawn.
Never alone again.
DEKE CRADLED ELSIE to him the entire ride, savoring the feel of her body next to his, the sweet way she’d rested her hand on his chest. She was beginning to trust him. The mere thought ignited a thrill inside him. He stroked her hair, wanting this mess to be over with, so he could take her in his arms, make love to her and make her his.
His breath caught, the reality of his thoughts twisting his stomach. Yet, the fear that usually clawed at him at the thought of committing to a woman didn’t come. Instead, ce floated over him as if he was exactly where he belonged. The same kind of peace he felt in the woods or when he worked with the falcons.
Outside, the dark clouds persisted, but thankfully, the ice storm that had been predicted passed, so he made the drive in a short time. The small subdivision where Renee Leberman lived was tucked away from the heart of Nashville, but lay close enough to show the signs of country music. Billboards for new acts, the Grand Ole Opry and country-and-western dance clubs welcomed visitors to the town. He checked the address, followed the map to her house, then parked in the driveway.
He gently shook Elsie. “Wake up, sweetheart, we’re here.”
Elsie stirred, her hand falling to his lap, and he tensed. Half the ride he’d had an erection that had strained his jeans. Her hand only turned his body into agony.