After several beats, Higgins removed his hat and stepped closer to the cell door. “Your folks died almost twenty years ago, Sawyer.”
Harry/Sawyer hung his head. Tiny muscles around his jaw ticked. “How?”
The sheriff muttered a curse under his breath. “Boating accident. You were the only survivor.”
Sawyer squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment. “I had no idea.”
Jordan’s heart broke for him. She cared about Sawyer, and he’d rescued her more than once. Being strong was the best way she could help him. “Sheriff Higgins, you said that Sawyer is accused of embezzling money from the Sherwood House. Wasn’t it Sawyer’s family that owned the place?”
Higgins nodded. “Several descendants, including Sawyer, hold shares. After his parents passed away, his aunt and uncle raised Sawyer, and they managed his share along with theirs.” He cleared his throat. “In fact, it was that same aunt who brought Sawyer’s crime to light, which couldn’t have been easy for her.”
Sawyer narrowed his eyes at the sheriff. “What’s her name?”
“Angelica Jespers.”
Why did that ring a bell? Jordan had heard someone mention her, but who? Then it hit her. The woman who was renting Sawyer’s old house had said that her landlady was Angelica Jespers. Jordan swallowed a gasp.
Sawyer slid her a glance then looked at Sheriff Higgins. “What about the driver of the black sedan? Do you know his name?”
Higgins brushed a hand over his chin. “Not yet. He didn’t have any identification on him. The car is registered to a thug out of Atlanta.”
“Is he Eastern European?” Sawyer asked.
The sheriff lifted an eyebrow. “As a matter of fact, yes. He’s Czech.”
Harry’s lip compressed to a tight line. “Who took control of my stake in the Sherwood House after I…left town?”
“Angelica.” Higgins frowned.
“What is it, Sheriff?” Jordan asked.
“My predecessor, the previous sheriff, was Parnell Jespers, Angelica’s late husband. He died two years ago of a heart attack.”
Sawyer tightened his fingers around the bars. “Did you ever consider that the Jespers were actually the ones who stole that money?”
Higgins rubbed his temples. “I wasn’t the sheriff then, and it wasn’t my case.”
“Perhaps that case should be reopened,” Jordan suggested. She recalled something Kitty had told her. “Sheriff Higgins, does your department have any vans?”
“One. We rarely use it anymore, though. Why?”
“Does it have stripes?” Sawyer asked him.
“Sure, blue and yellow, just like the rest of our vehicles.”
Kitty had described the van as striped. Jordan’s heart thundered in her chest. But how could she make the sheriff believe something that a cat had conveyed to her? “Sheriff, can you question Angelica Jespers?”
“Angelica Jespers is the closest thing this town has to high society.” He held up his palms. “What would I ask her? If she and her dead husband tried to kill her only nephew?”
“Yes!” Although anyone who’d do such a thing would surely deny it. The sheriff’s hands were tied, but Jordan’s weren’t.
“I can’t believe this?” Sawyer clenched his fists. “So Sheriff Jespers—my uncle—investigated the trumped up charges against me, charges that his wife corroborated? No impropriety there.”
Higgins huffed out a breath. “The previous sheriff’s administration was corrupt. He was under investigation by the FDLE when he suffered a fatal heart attack.”
“FDLE?” Jordan repeated.
“Florida Department of Law Enforcement,” Higgins explained.
Sawyer stood taller. “What do I need to do to get out of here, Sheriff?”
Higgins scratched his head. “Normally you’d have your first appearance before the judge tomorrow morning. But Judge Parnell is my fishing buddy, and I can call in a favor and ask him to set your bail this afternoon.”
“Thank you, Sheriff,” Sawyer said.
“I’m not sure why I believe your story,” Higgins said. “But I do.”
Jordan drew a relieved breath. Somehow, she was going to prove that Sawyer wasn’t the criminal he’d been made out to be.
Chapter Twelve
After Sawyer paid his thousand-dollar bail, he collected his personal property then walked out of the office.
Jordan stood under a streetlamp outside with his cat in her arms. She closed the distance to him.
He held her for a long time, drinking in her sweet scent, feeling the comfort of her warmth. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”
“Actually, I do.” She raised up on her tiptoes to kiss him. “My sister’s going to take care of the Tuckers’ cats again tonight. Mal’s a lifesaver. I don’t know what I’d have done without her.”
Sawyer held Jordan at arms’ length. “I’ll understand if you want to go back to Nocturne Falls without me. But I’ve got to stay here until I work out this situation.”
“I understand.” Her lips bunched to one side. “I have to honor my commitment to Mrs. Tucker, but we’ll think of something.”
“Did you find out where Angelica lives?”
She nodded as she unlocked her car with the key fob. “It’s almost ten o’clock, though. Shouldn’t we wait until morning to go talk to her?”
“Definitely.” He opened Jordan’s car door for her then took Kitty and put her in the back seat. “Tonight I want to scope out her house, see if anything there jogs my memory.”
Jordan navigated while Sawyer drove along a winding road that hugged the coast. They turned into Seaside Hills. The subdivision didn’t look familiar to him. Around each bend, they passed one grand Victorian home after another.
“Holy moly.” Jordan gestured toward a mansion that dwarfed the Tuckers’ home by comparison. “I think that’s it. You grew up here?”
He pulled over next to a high wrought iron fence that surrounded the property. Large gas lanterns marked the entrance which, unfortunately, didn’t look familiar to him. “I have no idea.”
“According to Sheriff Higgins, you lived with the Jespers from the time you were twelve years old.” Jordan sat up taller. “Did you hear that?”
Sawyer listened. A dog barked in the distance.
“Sounds like a Doberman.” She frowned.
“How can you tell from so far away?”
She leaned her head against the headrest and pursed her lips. “I think it’s sort of like how people can discern different accents. Certain breeds of dogs—and even cats to a lesser degree—have characteristic traits.”
If she were right, they wouldn’t be able to get near the house to even peer in the windows. He didn’t much care for dogs, especially big ones. For some reason, they made him nervous. “Too bad it’s not a chihuahua.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised how effective some small breeds are as watchdogs. They can make one heck of a racket.”
“What if you ask the dog to be quiet?”
“I might not be able to convince it to do that.”
He was so close. His whole body vibrated with anticipation. He needed to go see the house and try to remember something of his former life. “You stay here,” he told Jordan. “I’m going to poke around outside.”
“What about the dog?” Jordan unbuckled her seatbelt. “I’m coming with you. You’ll need me there if you run into a Dobie.”
By now, he knew her well enough to be sure that she wouldn’t stay put if she didn’t want to. “Promise me you’ll stay behind me, and that you’ll run back to the car if there’s trouble.”
She huffed. “Fine.” Easing open her door, she stopped. “I’ve got an idea. A lot of dogs love cat treats. And we happen to have a pouch in the glovebox.”
“You’re a genius.” He gave her a quick kiss. “Safety first, Jordan.”
“Absolutely.” After slipping a few treats into her pocket, she got out of the car.
“W
e’ll be right back, Kitty.” Jeez, was he really conversing with his cat? Now that he knew she understood his words, why not?
Taking Jordan’s hand, he headed toward the circular driveway. They crouched down just before the opening. An older model Toyota was parked near the house.
“Strange that someone with such a fancy home would drive a car like that,” Jordan said quietly.
“I’d lay odds that it doesn’t belong to Angelica.” Sawyer tipped his chin at the three-car garage.
“Ah ha. You’re probably right.”
Sawyer scoped out the property. If they stayed close to the outer perimeter until they reached the garage, they’d avoid most of the landscape lighting. “Follow me,” he said. They were almost at the garage when the front door of the house opened.
Two silhouetted female figures stepped out to the porch.
Sawyer pulled Jordan around the side of the garage and held a finger to his lips.
Jordan nodded.
“Remember our bargain,” one of the women said. “Keep your mouth shut and everything will be fine.”
“I have for all these years.”
Sawyer held his breath. He knew that voice.
“Then how did he find out? This is all your fault, Gladys.”
The door slammed shut.
Jordan tightened her grip on his hand. Had she recognized the voice as well?
A minute or so later, a car motor sputtered twice before turning over.
Sawyer ventured a glance at the woman behind the wheel as she drove past. All he could make out was her white hair. He felt the heat of Jordan’s breath on the back of his neck.
“Did you see who that was?” she whispered. “It was the clerk from the Sherwood House.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Didn’t you notice that giant white beehive?”
Jordan was right. That was why her voice sounded familiar. “What do you think that conversation was about?”
Sawyer’s phone vibrated in his pocket, but he wasn’t in a position to have a conversation. He checked the call log, and when he saw Cat’s Paw Cove Sheriff in the display, he showed it to Jordan. “Let’s go back to the car. This could be important.”
When he phoned the number, Sheriff Higgins answered.
“What’s up, Sheriff?” Sawyer asked.
“I thought you’d want to know,” Higgins replied. “The driver of the other car has regained consciousness. I’m on my way to St. John’s County General now.”
Sawyer checked his watch. “I’ll meet you there.”
“Oh no you won’t,” the sheriff replied. “I’ll arrest you if you attempt to influence his testimony in any way.”
“Fine,” Sawyer ground out. “Would you at least tell me what he says?”
“If I can.” The sheriff disconnected.
“Did you hear all of that?” he asked Jordan.
She frowned. “Yup. What now?”
“Until we find out what the guy in the hospital has to say, we’re dead in the water.” He glanced at the house. The light in a second-story window turned off.
Jordan slid lower in the seat. “He might not say anything, which puts us right back to square one.”
Nervous energy pulsed through him. “I’m too antsy to wait. I’m going to try to look in the windows.”
“Let’s go.”
He touched her knee. “I won’t put you in any more danger.”
She smiled, but her eyes glistened. “I care about you, too. My life is a whole lot more exciting since I met you.”
He had to laugh at that. “I guess that’s one way to look at it.”
“Ready?”
Giving her leg a quick squeeze, he smoothed her silky hair. Yeah, he did care about her. Despite his vow to hold back until he knew more about his past, his feelings for Jordan had grown. He only prayed that whatever they discovered about his past, made him worthy of her.
They circled around the house to the back, which wasn’t nearly as well-lit as the front. Waves crashed on the nearby shoreline, muting most other sounds.
A dog barked from inside the house. Sawyer tightened his grip on Jordan’s hand.
She made the okay sign with her thumb and index finger as she moved closer to a window.
A black Doberman snarled at them from the other side of the glass.
“It’s okay,” Jordan said. “What’s your name, fellow?” She nodded slowly, and the dog sat down.
Sawyer’s pounding heart slowed a little. “You’re amazing, Jordan.”
“His name is Excalibur,” she whispered.
Great, a dog named for a sword.
“Do you like your mistress?” Jordan asked the pooch. Then she touched a finger to the glass. “Poor baby.”
“Does he know me?” Sawyer stared at the dog, racking his brain to remember the animal. “I mean, from years ago.”
Jordan sighed. “You were the only one who was kind to him.”
“What about Angelica’s late husband?”
After several seconds, Jordan shook her head. “Excalibur says that Parnell was almost as bad as Angelica.” Jordan held up her index finger at Sawyer, asking for him to wait. Several moments passed as Jordan nodded and seemed to commiserate with the dog. Finally, she gasped.
“What?”
Taking Sawyer’s hand, she eased him a few feet back from the window. “Excalibur is a good listener. And he remembers overhearing his mistress and his late master arguing…a lot. He says it was many years ago.”
“Okay.” He steeled himself for whatever she was about to tell him.
“Angelica wanted her husband to…to kill someone.”
A chill rolled over his skin. “To kill me?”
Jordan’s lips compressed to a thin line. “The dog doesn’t know, but since someone did try to kill you, they had to be talking about you.”
Jordan moved closer to the window. “Excalibur, would you do me a solid and keep quiet while we look around? I promise that we aren’t here to hurt your mistress.” She smiled up at Sawyer. “He won’t bark.”
“I’m not going to break into the woman’s house.” Something drew his attention to the garage. “But I want to go in there.”
Jordan followed his gaze. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Just a feeling.” A creepy one.
The side door into the garage was unlocked. The instant Sawyer stepped inside, his heart started thumping against his ribs. “I’ve been here before.”
Jordan mated her fingers with his. “Is it the same feeling you got when you were in the Sherwood House?”
This was definitely different. “That was more…sad. Here it’s more like…intense fear.”
Jordan turned on her cell’s flashlight app, illuminating the large, open room. Every imaginable type of tool hung on the back wall. The SUV that had sped away from Coquina Castle was parked in one of the two spaces.
“That confirms that Angelica Jespers was the woman we saw this morning at the festival,” Sawyer said.
“Yup.” Jordan trained her light on a small, narrow door with a padlock. “I wonder what’s in there.”
Sawyer’s breath locked in his lungs. Nausea swirled in the pit of his belly.
“Hey.” Jordan stepped in front of him. “Are you okay?”
“Not really.” He scanned the tool until he found a bolt cutter. It only took him a few moments to break the lock. Head pounding, he pulled open the door. A familiar smell filled the air. He stumbled backward.
“What’s wrong?” Jordan grasped his forearm. “Do you remember something?”
He could only nod as terrifying memories populated what had been a blank space inside him.
“Let me out!”
He’d slammed his fists on the door. “Please, Aunt Angelica! I promise I’ll be good.” Although he’d had no clue what he’d done to merit the punishment.
“Duke, attack him if he gets out,” his aunt told her dog.
Duke growled on the other side of the door
.
Jordan led him away from the closet to a stool. “Sit down. Tell me what’s going on.”
“I remember something.” He sucked in a deep breath and waited for his pulse to slow. “She used to lock me in there and had her German shepherd, Duke stand guard. That dog hated me, probably because Angelica told him to.”
“That’s horrid.” Jordan crouched next to him. “She sounds like an awful woman.”
He nodded. “And her husband knew what she did. He helped her.” Now he understood why small, enclosed spaces bothered him so much, and why he was uncomfortable around large dogs.
His phone buzzed. When he checked it, there was a text message from Sheriff Higgins. “Need to speak to you. Call when you get this.”
Jordan handed Sawyer one of the two cups of coffee she’d gotten from the sheriff’s outer office. Heaven knew she needed something to perk her up since it was well after midnight, and she had no clue when she’d get a chance to sleep.
“Sorry to drag you folks in here so late.” Sheriff Higgins leaned his elbows on his desk. “I thought you’d want to know what Boris Komisky had to say.”
“The Czech?” Sawyer petted Kitty as she rubbed against his shin.
“He sang like a damn canary.” Higgins tapped a folder in front of him. “Gave us everything we need to arrest your aunt.”
Sawyer set down his coffee. “We learned a few things about her tonight.”
“Oh?” Sheriff Higgins narrowed his eyes at Sawyer.
On second thought, maybe it wouldn’t be smart to tell the top local lawman about their adventures earlier in the evening, which could be construed as breaking and entering. “Nevermind. What’d you find out?”
“Boris Komisky says he’s an unlicensed Private Investigator. What he really does is anything illegal or unsavory for clients willing to pay his exorbitant fees. Mrs. Jespers has been using Boris’s services for years. And apparently, so did her late husband.” Higgins shook his head. “When I think about how long Parnell Jespers was sheriff of Cat’s Paw Cove, and how corrupt the man was, it makes me sick to my stomach.”
Sawyer knew the feeling. Hour by hour, he’d recalled more snippets from his memory—Angelica repeatedly locking him in that garage closet when he was only eleven or twelve years old, her husband beating him with a belt for no reason. “They were both awful people.”
Courting The Cat Whisperer: A Nocturne Falls Universe story Page 12