Meredith nodded, not entirely convinced but not wanting to argue about it, either. “I suppose the police already think we’re involved with each other. You should have seen the way Ted Singer looked at me. I felt as though I needed a shower.”
“From what I remember, Ted always was a bully. I’m sure Chief Burkhalter doesn’t think that way.”
“Burkhalter was okay, I guess, but it’s still obvious that he has his sights set on Zach. And you know how stubborn he is.”
“True.” Rachel dropped the last sheet into the basket. “He’s always going to look for the easiest answer. You can’t really blame him, since most of the time that’s the right answer. Anyway, once he knows about Laura’s pregnancy, he may feel differently.”
“Maybe.” Meredith was doubtful. “He seems convinced that Aaron’s death has nothing to do with what’s happening now. And I’m not sure that her pregnancy adds much to the equation.”
Rachel seemed to consider that for a moment. “I’m not sure, either,” she admitted. “But it seems as if it must mean something. What happened? Did she have the baby? If so, she must have gone away, or people would know. Did she lose it, or...?” Her startled gaze met Meredith’s.
“You’re thinking she might have ended the pregnancy.” Meredith turned that over in her mind. “It’s possible, I suppose. It’s even possible that she’d already decided to do so and told Aaron that night.”
“That might give Aaron a reason to kill himself,” Rachel said slowly. “If he felt he’d put her in that position. But not a reason for someone else to kill him.”
Meredith rubbed her temples, trying to ease the tension she could feel throbbing there. “Well, I suppose I could see a jealous boyfriend or even her father being angry at Aaron if the truth came out. Still, it’s far-fetched.”
“I know.” Rachel’s voice was warm with sympathy. “It seems impossible to unravel this tangle. But I have faith that the truth will come out in the end. Zach is innocent, and so are you.”
Meredith’s throat tightened. “Thanks,” she murmured, glancing at the window. “It looks as if the rain isn’t going to slack off. Can I borrow an umbrella to get home?”
“Of course. But why don’t you stay and eat with us? Mandy’s conversation is guaranteed to keep your mind off your troubles.”
Even as Meredith hesitated, her cell phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket, nerves jangling. It was Zach.
“I just had a call from Jake Evans, and I need to talk to you about it. Can I come over?” The words were abrupt, but a little cautious, as well, as if he tried to sense her mood.
“I’m at Rachel’s right now, but I was about to leave. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
“Good.” He clicked off.
Rachel had busied herself getting an umbrella from the closet during that brief call, but she would obviously have gotten the gist of it. She handed over the umbrella.
“You can still come back over for supper.”
Meredith shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m really beat.”
Besides, if they talked any more, she might be tempted to tell Rachel about the picture Zach had planted in her mind. An image rose of Samuel and Aaron quarreling at the edge of the dam, with Samuel furious when he learned Laura was pregnant. That would have been an end to any hope he might have held on to that Aaron would come to his senses or that Laura would break it off.
It wouldn’t have taken much. A pushing match, a scuffle, and Aaron falling into the water, which would’ve been high after several days of rain. She shivered. That was just a bit too plausible a scenario.
Meredith could see Rachel watching her from the kitchen window as she set off across the wet lawn. She probably did the same when Mandy was running across to the neighbor’s house.
The temperature must have dropped as the day turned gray. Even with the umbrella protecting her, Meredith felt damp and chilled. She hurried toward the house.
What could Jake have called about that would make Zach so concerned? Tension tightened into a ball in her stomach. Nothing good, obviously.
Something, maybe a hint of movement caught from the corner of her eye, stopped her. She tilted the umbrella back so that she could see, getting a face full of rain in the process. Someone or something had moved there, in the shadows between the garage and the toolshed.
Heart thudding, she took a step back before common sense washed over her. Was it Zach, taking a look around while he waited for her to come?
Something man-sized shifted in the dark space. “Zach?” Her voice cracked slightly on his name.
No answer, but the shadows seemed to move again, coalescing into a shape even as her vision wavered in the steady rain. It wasn’t Zach. Zach would speak.
She spun and ran toward the house. The wind caught the umbrella and tore it from her wet hand. She ran, blinded by the rain, afraid to look back and see who or what chased her—
She barreled into Zach, knowing him the instant their bodies touched, before he could even speak.
He grabbed her by the arms. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“Nothing. I...” She sent a glance toward the toolshed and saw no one. “Maybe my imagination working overtime. I thought I saw someone over there, between the garage and the toolshed.”
His grip tightened, and then he shoved her toward the steps. “Go inside. I’ll have a look.”
Meredith shook her head. What was she thinking, acting as if she needed to be rescued? She wasn’t the helpless princess in the tower, any more than Laura had been in their childhood imaginings.
“I’ll go with you.” She said the words firmly, daring him to argue.
Zach gave her a look that suggested he knew just what she was doing, but he shrugged, pulling a businesslike flashlight from the pocket of his jacket. “All right. Stay behind me. Please.”
She nodded. The rain seemed to slack off a little as they approached the toolshed, not that it mattered. She was so wet already that she could hardly get any more drenched. She nodded toward the flashlight. “You came prepared.”
“I’m not tramping around in the dark with a murderer on the loose. And neither should you.” He flashed his light toward the garage, but the doors were closed, just as she had left them. With the automatic opener, there’d be no easy way for someone to get in without leaving a trace.
“It was still light when I went over to Rachel’s.” She was probably talking just to hear the sound.
The beam of Zach’s torch illuminated the narrow space that ran between the garage and the toolshed. It was empty now, but someone could easily have slipped away behind the structures while she and Zach were talking.
“Is the toolshed locked?” He moved toward the door, and she followed.
“No. I don’t even think we have a key for that door.”
Zach reached for the latch, then turned and moved her back a few feet. “Stay out of the way.” This time he didn’t bother adding please. Tough, competent...Zach’s boyhood rebellion had matured into the qualities that made him a strong man.
She nodded, shivering a little, her brief spurt of courage fading.
Holding the flashlight high with his left hand, Zach yanked open the door, and the inside of the toolshed flashed into view. Small, cluttered with the accumulation of years—there was no place anyone could hide.
“Is this the way it should be?” Zach was focused, sending the beam of his flashlight into every corner. It caught the delicate gray shape of a spiderweb in the corner and illuminated the wooden tool chest that had belonged to her father.
“I guess so. I haven’t been out here in ages.” She took a step inside, relieved to be out of the rain. “I keep a few small tools in the house, and the lawn mower is in the garage, so there’s not much reason to come in here.”
“You’re sure
you saw someone?” He turned to her, face intent.
Meredith blew out a breath, trying to relax taut muscles. “I’m sure I saw something moving.” She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to visualize that quick glimpse. “It wasn’t a small animal—something big, the size of a person.”
“There’s no sign anyone was in here, but it would be a good spot from which to watch the back of the house.” His face was lean and remote in the dim light, focused on the problem, not on her.
Her mind scrambled through possibilities. “Watch the house—you mean, like the police?” She could hear the note of incredulity in her voice. Really, she had to get over the illusion that this situation with the law was some sort of macabre joke.
“Could be.” He focused on her, frowning. “That call from Jake—it’s my turn to go in and talk to the cops tomorrow morning. But Jake found out there’s going to be someone from the district attorney’s office sitting in on the interview.”
Her throat clenched, making it difficult to speak. “They’re serious about us, then.”
“They always have been. That hasn’t changed.” He suddenly seemed to see her, taking in her wet, bedraggled condition. He clasped her arm. “You’re soaked. I can’t keep you standing here in the cold talking.”
She shook her head. “That’s not important. Zach, what are we going to do? If they arrest you...” She faltered, unable to go on.
“Don’t, Merry.” His voice lowered with emotion, and he cupped her face with his free hand, his palm warm against her skin. “It’s going to be all right.”
“How?” she demanded, torn between longing and pain. “How is it going to be all right? They think we did this terrible thing, and they’re not even looking for anyone else.”
Something moved in his eyes. “I told Jake what Samuel said about Laura.”
“You shouldn’t—”
His fingers tightened, as if he’d shake sense into her. “Wake up, Meredith. You can’t protect other people at the cost of your own life. Or mine, if that means anything to you.”
“Of course it does.” All the passion she’d tried to contain seemed to pour into the words. “But what can we do?”
“Jake thinks we have to tell Burkhalter all of it—Samuel, Laura, the works. Even if he doesn’t take it seriously, maybe the D.A. will.”
A shudder went through her. “My family...”
Zach released her, his face hardening. “Face it, Meredith. It might come down to me or Samuel. Which of us will you try to protect?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ZACH TOOK A deep breath of cool, damp air when he finally stepped out of the police station the next day. The string of bright fall days had ended, but freedom felt good no matter the weather.
“Glad to have that over with?” Jake paused beside him, buttoning his suit coat against the chilly breeze.
“There were moments when I didn’t think I’d be leaving that place.” Zach jerked his head toward the faded brick of the police station.
“They don’t have enough evidence to hold on to you. You know that.” Jake was giving him credit for knowing the law, if not all the politics. “A motive based on rumors and hearsay, and an opportunity only if Meredith King is lying about her mother’s death? I doubt they’d even get a search warrant on that, unless they had a very friendly judge in somebody’s pocket.”
“Yeah. But they won’t give up.” Zach shoved his hands in his pockets. “I wouldn’t, if it were my case.”
Jake eyed him with an air of sizing him up. “I’ve never had a cop for a client before. You have a unique perspective for a person of interest in a homicide.”
“Can’t say I get a lot of pleasure out of that.” He hunched his shoulders and then realized he was echoing the bad-boy stance of his teen years—the look of someone who knew that if there was trouble in the offing, the blame would fall on him. He straightened. He wasn’t that kid, and he wouldn’t let Deer Run do that to him.
“No, I guess not, but if it were your case what would you do?” Jake was assuming the role that seemed to fall so easily to him—the leader, the one in charge, figuring out what to do next.
He’d been that way in high school, too. The natural choice for captain of the football team, president of the student council, the senior class, the honor society. Well, that need to succeed of Jake’s was on Zach’s side, at least for the moment.
Zach forced himself to consider the case in the abstract. “I’d try to find someone who saw the car that night, first off. Try to prove we came back to Deer Run earlier than we said. Try to link me to the weapon.” His gaze sharpened on Jake. “It’s a safe bet they haven’t found it yet. If they had, there’d have been questions in that area, but neither Chief Burkhalter nor that assistant D.A. ever went in that direction.”
“Good point.” Jake frowned. “That means they’re still looking, and until they identify it, they can’t tie it to anyone.”
“If the killer’s smart, it’ll be at the bottom of the river by now,” Zach said. “If not... Well, maybe they will locate it, but whatever it is, they can’t link it to either of us.”
“I suppose I don’t have to tell you not to let anyone search your car or your room without a warrant?”
“No, you don’t. But maybe you’d better stress that to Meredith.”
“I will.” Jake hesitated. “Burkhalter wants to see Meredith again this afternoon. And Reilly, from the D.A.’s office, will be sitting in.”
“It figures.” He had to unclench his jaw to speak. “That’s the other thing I’d be doing if it was my case. Trying to break down the alibi witness.”
“I’ve known Meredith King since kindergarten,” Jake said. “She always tells the truth. The problem is going to be to keep her from saying more than she should.”
“Yeah. Well, she’ll listen to you, I think.” Now it was his turn to pause. “You know she didn’t want us to mention Samuel to the police.”
“We didn’t have a choice.” Jake was firm on that subject. “The whole story about Meredith looking into Aaron Mast’s death had to be told for there to be any other possible motive for Margo King’s death.”
“Burkhalter still didn’t believe it.” Zach stepped back on the sidewalk to let a couple of women pass and noted that they gave him a wide berth. Deer Run had no doubt already made up its collective mind about him and his connection to Margo King’s murder.
“I didn’t expect him to, but Reilly did listen and make notes. If he’s any good at his job, he’ll do some sort of follow-up.”
Zach nodded. It was their best chance, and they both knew that. But he couldn’t help wishing it hadn’t been something that was going to hurt Meredith as much as this would.
“You’ll be with her the whole time she’s in there, right?” He knew Jake would, but it hurt that he couldn’t be.
“I will.” Jake looked grim. “Trust me, I won’t let them push her too hard.”
* * *
WINDBLOWN RAIN STREAMED against the windshield as Meredith drove back to the house after her interrogation, making Deer Run look blurred and unfamiliar to her eyes. Or maybe her perception of the village that had always been home was changing.
The whole questioning routine had seemed futile to her—the same questions asked over and over again in a slightly different way. Maybe that was some sort of interrogation technique, an attempt to frighten her and catch her in a lie.
She rubbed the back of her neck, feeling the tension knotted into cords. She hadn’t been scared, exactly, since Jake had been sitting next to her the entire time. He had interrupted often enough that she could catch her breath and think through her responses.
The assistant district attorney had put some of the queries to her. Afterward, Jake said that hadn’t happened when Zach was interviewed. She wasn’t sure what to ma
ke of that development.
Meredith took a cautious glance in the direction of Jeannette’s bed-and-breakfast as she turned onto her driveway, hoping Zach wasn’t watching for her return. Please don’t let him come over right now. Just give me a little quiet space.
She stopped by the front porch, not eager to drive to the detached garage and then dash through the pouring rain to the house. This way it would only be a few steps.
She’d usually stopped here to let her mother out—the pain hit even as she thought the words. Grief wasn’t just emotional; it was physical, as well. She’d learned that when her father died. Then she’d had the luxury of mourning. Now... Well, now she had to keep pushing the grief down to deal with cloud of suspicion that thickened around her and Zach. It seemed wrong to focus on anything else at a time like this.
She put up her umbrella as she stepped out of the car. The wind promptly caught it, turning it inside out. Giving up, she raced for the porch and stumbled inside, slamming the door behind her.
The house was dark and quiet. She hadn’t realized how loud it had been in the car with the rain pelting down.
It was dark. Hadn’t she left the hall light on? She flipped the switch up and down. Nothing. Apparently the power was off.
Walking into the living room, she touched the back of her mother’s favorite chair, letting her hand linger there for a moment. Jake had said he’d press the authorities on releasing Mom’s body, so she could proceed with the funeral. He seemed to understand the importance of the rituals of grieving. Maybe that came from spending a lifetime in the same small town.
A quick glance out the window told her that the lights were on farther down the block. That meant a power surge had probably tripped the circuit breaker, a routine occurrence with their antiquated wiring. She’d have to go down to the cellar and flip the switch.
Automatically she headed toward the kitchen. Her hand was on the door when something creaked, loud in the silent house, and her heart was suddenly pounding. She froze, straining her ears for a repetition, but none came.
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