by Rebecca York
But it was hard to maintain that icy exterior when he was brought in a van with other prisoners to the Talbot County Courthouse.
His most fervent hope was that he didn’t run into anyone he knew—especially Sara Delaney—not when his hands were shackled and he was wearing a bright orange prison jumpsuit like the other men being transported from the jail.
He felt slightly sick as he waited in a holding cell in the basement of the courthouse. Then a guard called his name, and he was brought upstairs to Judge Raymond Tinker’s courtroom.
Dan, who was looking remarkably chipper in a gray suit, off-white shirt and red tie, told him not to worry.
Right.
His pulse was pounding so loudly in his ears that he could barely hear what his attorney was saying.
He tried to tell himself that this was just a formality, but the reality of being charged with murder felt like heavy-metal netting shrouding his body, cutting off his breath.
He heard his name called. Saw Dan respond, then ask to approach the bench.
Now what? He wanted the inevitable over as soon as possible.
When the state’s attorney had joined Dan, he handed both the prosecutor and the judge a sheaf of papers.
Both looked them over as Dan waited.
Then the judge raised his head toward Alex. “I have been handed evidence on your case confirming that your weapon was not the one used in the shooting of Emmett Bandy. In addition, tests confirm that your weapon was not fired and that there was no powder residue on your hands. With no evidence to proceed against you, the case is dropped, and you are free to go.”
Alex stared at him, hardly able to believe the words. He’d never heard of anything similar happening at an arraignment. He’d never heard of tests being conducted with such efficiency. Dazed, he watched as a deputy removed his handcuffs.
He became aware that Dan was beside him, leading him out of the courtroom.
“How did you manage that?” Alex asked, still stunned. Still unable to believe what he’d just seen with his own eyes and heard with his own ears. “Everybody wants his tests expedited. Nobody gets this kind of express service.”
“Randolph Security has helped wrap up a lot of cases in Maryland. Let’s just say that Cam Randolph had the clout to speed things up.”
“Yeah, well, let’s just say I owe you one. You and Cam.”
“I was only doing my job. I was hired to take care of legal business for Randolph because I know the ropes in the criminal justice system.”
“I’ll attest to that. I’ve never seen anything like what happened in court today.”
Dan cleared his throat. “It wasn’t just my doing. Clark Hempstead went to bat for you, too.”
On hearing that piece of information, Alex could only goggle at his friend. “Hempstead? When he arrested me at Bandy’s, he looked like he was ready to lock me up and throw away the key.”
“Well, I had a talk with him yesterday. His first reaction was disappointment that you’d gotten yourself into trouble. Given some time to think about it, he realized that you were telling him the truth.”
Alex could only shake his head, still trying to absorb the knowledge that he was a free man.
“I brought you some clothes,” Dan said. “You can change in the men’s room. Then maybe you’d like to come to my motel and take a shower before you go home. I’m only five minutes from here.”
“Yeah,” Alex agreed. He had been in custody less than forty-eight hours, but the rancid smell of the jailhouse was in his pores.
He changed quickly into slacks and a Polo shirt. After balling up the prison jumpsuit, he handed it to the deputy who had escorted him upstairs. When he and Dan started down the hall, he found Hempstead standing by the door to the parking lot.
Alex stopped dead, his throat going dry.
The chief cleared his throat. “I, uh, jumped to some conclusions the other morning.”
Alex nodded. “I understand why.”
“You were a difficult teenager. I was proud of the way you turned out as an adult. I guess I liked to think I had something to do with it.”
“You did.”
“Well, when I saw you standing over Emmett with a gun in your hand, I guess I flashed back on the way it was—the way it could have been.”
“You were doing your job when you arrested me.”
“Yes, but I was angry and disappointed, and I wasn’t listening to you. I’m sorry about that.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get the hell out of Bandy’s office the moment I found him. I should have known it was a setup.”
“How?”
“Because nothing about this case adds up. Something’s going on that I haven’t figured out yet.”
“Yeah.”
“So maybe the two of us can trade information later,” Alex said, extending his hand toward the chief.
Hempstead clasped his hand, and they shook. Then both stood up straighter, looking relieved.
“We’ll talk when I get myself together,” Alex said.
“When you’re ready.”
Alex turned and opened the door to the parking lot and immediately regretted the action.
Word had spread quickly about the startling turn of events in Judge Tinker’s courtroom, and a crowd of reporters was waiting for the former prisoner.
“Mr. Shane, are you going to sue the state police for false arrest?” a woman asked, thrusting a microphone at him.
“The police were just doing their job. I’m just glad it was quickly proven that the case against me was nonexistent.”
“How was the ballistics testing expedited so quickly?”
“You’ll have to ask the state police about that.”
“How do you feel now?”
“Relieved. And anxious to put this behind me.”
“You’re investigating the disappearance of Lee Tillman?”
Alex swore under his breath. Who the hell had clued this pack of jackals in about Tillman? Aloud he said, “I don’t know that he’s disappeared. He’s on vacation.”
“Mr. Shane—”
He pulled himself together to deliver a nice little sound bite. “I have faith in the American justice system. I know I would have eventually been cleared of all charges. I’m just glad it happened sooner than later. That’s all I have to say.”
Dan was beside him as he walked rapidly down the steps, scanning the crowd as he went.
A familiar figure on the grass strip at the edge of the parking lot swam into his vision, and his steps faltered. Standing with his arms folded across his chest was his brother.
Billy gave him a sardonic smile as if to say, “You think you’re better than I am. You joined the clean team. But look what’s happened to you.”
He saw Dan follow his gaze.
“Who’s that creep?” his friend asked.
“My ex-con brother.”
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. If they’d caught him standing over a body with a gun in his hand, it would be a good bet that he’d done the deed.” He looked away from the man whose failure was somehow his own. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
While Alex showered, washed his hair and shaved, Dan bought breakfast. Biscuits with gravy, ham and eggs—indulgences that Alex didn’t usually allow himself to enjoy. This morning he wolfed them down, along with several cups of coffee laced with half and half.
Once more he thanked his friend for everything he’d done, then realized that he wasn’t going anywhere on his own without his vehicle and driver’s license. So Dan ran him over to the state police barracks to retrieve his personal property, including his shoulder holster and SUV. The gun he’d brought along that night was still at the crime lab.
They had additional business to discuss, so Dan followed him home. As he approached his driveway, he saw a car blocking the entrance. Alex tensed, suddenly very sorry that he was unarmed.
The door slammed open, and a man wearing a rumpled gray suit jumped out.
“Mr. Shane! Mr. Shane!”
Alex recognized the guy. He was a reporter who had shown up in Baltimore a couple of times during high-profile cases.
Alex rolled down his window. “Get the hell out of here.”
“Mr. Shane, I’m from the National Tattler. We’re willing to pay for your story of false arrest.”
“Well, I’m not willing to talk. And if you’re still here in fifteen minutes, I’ll shoot you.”
The guy’s eyes narrowed. Probably in his line of work, he’d heard worse threats. But he climbed back into his car and drove away.
“How many more of those are there going to be?” Alex wondered aloud as he and Dan pulled up in front of the house and climbed out of their vehicles.
“Shoot one, and it will ease off real quick,” Dan answered.
“Yeah, right.”
Alex unlocked the front door, and they both went inside. Alex’s first stop was his office.
Lying on the desk beside the answering machine was his Glock and a folded note.
Quickly he opened it.
Alex, thank you for everything. I’ve gone to my dad’s, like you suggested.
“From Sara?” Dan asked.
“Yeah,” he answered, remembering that he’d told Dan he wasn’t sure how she was involved in the Tillman case.
“She was here when I stopped by a couple of days ago.”
“You spoke to her?”
“I came over to tell her what we were doing to get you out of jail. She seemed like a nice woman,” Dan said.
“So did Cindy,” Alex retorted, wanting to tell Cassidy to mind his own business when it came to his personal life. But it didn’t seem like the thing to do, considering what the man had just done for him. Instead, he unlocked the door and stepped out onto the deck where he stood looking across at the creek.
After a moment, Dan followed him outside.
“Sorry about the outburst. I’m not in real good shape,” Alex said.
“That’s understandable.”
For several moments, the only sound was Dan kicking at a place where a board was splintered. “I know you don’t want my advice. So I won’t give you any. I’ll just say that you weren’t around when I met my wife, Sabrina.” He laughed. “She was a suspect in a murder case, and I was the state’s attorney trying to get the goods on her. But we’d had problems before that.” Dan laughed again. “Actually, we had a pretty long history of conflict.”
Alex stared at him. “You’re kidding.”
“It was a kind of trial by fire, but we worked things out.”
Not sure what to say, Alex simply stood there.
“Don’t make assumptions about Sara.”
“I saw her sneaking into Tillman’s office! Then somebody went after her. I know she’s tied in to this somehow.”
“Just keep an open mind. Don’t let a marriage that turned bad make it impossible to trust another relationship.”
“We don’t have a relationship!”
“Well, I’d say she cares about you.”
“How do you know?” Alex demanded.
“Maybe it would be better if you figured that out for yourself. Besides, I’ve been away from my wife for a couple of days, and I’m anticipating the reunion.”
Instantly, Alex felt guilty. Dan had been down here in St. Stephens working his ass off to get him out of jail, and now he was detaining him with questions he had no business asking.
“You’d better make tracks for Baltimore, then,” he said. “And thank you again—for everything.”
“No problem.”
Alex expected his friend to leave immediately, but he remained where he was, shifting his weight slightly from one foot to the other, giving the impression that he wanted to say something more. Something that Alex wasn’t going to like hearing.
“You might as well spit it out,” he said, struggling to keep his voice mild.
Dan sighed. “You had a pretty bad time over the past couple of days. I didn’t want to say anything while you were in custody, but…”
“But what?” Alex snapped.
“But keeping that meeting with Bandy wasn’t the smartest thing you ever did.”
“Thanks!”
“Alex, I don’t like to see you being reckless.”
“I’m not.”
Dan shrugged. “Just think about it, will you?”
Alex shoved his hands into his pockets. “So, are you going to write up a recommendation that Randolph Security take me off the case?” he asked.
“Of course not.”
“Thanks for that. And thanks for getting me out of the slammer.”
“Alex, take care of yourself.”
“I will,” he said automatically.
Dan walked back to his car. Alex turned and went into the house. In his office he stared at the flashing red light on the answering machine. Probably nobody had called that he wanted to talk to. But he’d better check the messages—in case Lee had tried to contact him again.
There was no further communication from the evasive Lee Tillman. The bulk of the calls were from reporters wanting an interview. Two were from townspeople who advised him to go back to the other side of the Bay Bridge where he belonged.
Great!
After erasing the tape, he stared at his desk—and at the gun sitting beside his keyboard.
He’d left it for Sara’s protection. He didn’t know if she had a weapon of her own.
His mind jumped from protecting her to considering the consequences of leaving her alone in his house. She’d been in his office, which meant that she could have gone through his files if she were so inclined. Paper files, because his computer was password protected.
He canceled the negative thoughts and went back to worrying about the trouble she was in. She’d said she was going to her father’s. But had she stayed put?
He reached for the phone book, found Reid Delaney’s number and dialed. When a man said hello, he asked to speak to Sara.
“Who is this?” The voice turned belligerent.
“Alex Shane.”
“The jerk-off private eye who got himself arrested?” Delaney asked, his words not exactly steady. It sounded as if Sara hadn’t been lying about the drinking.
Alex sighed. “Can I speak to your daughter?”
“She’s not here. And if she was, I wouldn’t let you talk to her.”
“Thanks.” He wasn’t sure he believed that Sara wasn’t home. On the other hand, he had just confirmed some additional information. The old guy was a hard case.
“What are you doing for her—trying to find her birth parents so she can go back to them and leave me?” Mr. Delaney suddenly demanded.
The quick change of subject had Alex doing a double take. “No.”
Delaney snorted. “Sure. Why else would she have hired a P.I.?”
“I’m not working for her. We’re friends.”
“Sure,” the elder Delaney said again.
“She’s been interested in finding her birth parents?” Alex asked.
“Don’t play dumb with me, sonny. You know damn well she’s been up to something in that department.”
“News to me.”
“She contacted that place in Baltimore. Birth Day, Inc., or whatever you call it.”
“Birth Data?” Alex asked, keeping the surprise out of his voice. Birth Data was part of the Light Street Foundation—funded by one of his friends, Travis Stone, and run by his wife, Erin Stone.
“They couldn’t do a damn thing for her,” Delaney sneered.
The guy was being pretty talkative. Probably that was how liquor affected him. Alex wondered how to direct the conversation.
“Did she have any problems with Lee Tillman?” he asked.
“That bastard!”
“What did Tillman do to you?”
“He was sweet on her.”
Alex felt his chest tighten. “How do you know?” he asked.
“He did stuff for her. Got her jobs. Paid her more than
she was worth. Lent her the money to buy her house.”
“He did?”
“Well, he called it a mortgage. But God knows what she was doing to earn the dough.”
Alex winced. His mind was spinning now.
Was Reid Delaney angry enough at Lee Tillman to kill him? That possibility had suddenly become a promising line of investigation.
And what about the other piece of information the man had just imparted? Sara had been trying to locate her birth parents. Suppose when she’d started asking questions, she’d attracted someone’s attention? Suppose someone was coming after her because they knew she was the natural daughter of a prominent citizen who didn’t want a shameful incident in his or her past revealed?
He remembered talking to Travis and Erin Stone about the adoption ring that had once operated in St. Stephens. Local girls had been sent to a home for unwed mothers and then forced to give up their babies for adoption. The doctor and the lawyer running the place had pocketed big fees. In fact, Travis Stone had been one of those babies.
“Did you get Sara from a mother who lived in the area?” Alex asked the elder Delaney.
“None of your damn business.”
He tried another approach. “I guess it’s pretty upsetting when the child you raised wants to contact people she never even met, people who didn’t want to stay in contact with her.”
“You’re damn right. And stop trying to pump me for information.” The man slammed down the phone, leaving Alex listening to empty air.
He carefully replaced the receiver, now wanting more than ever to speak to Sara. This time he tried her home phone. All he got was the answering machine, and he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want to leave a message about the adoption search, since it was probably a sensitive subject with her. Nor did he know what to say about himself, either.
“Hi. I’m out of jail. Let’s get together.”
Trying to ignore his feeling of frustration, he pulled out his file on Sara and found her birthday. Then he looked up the Birth Data number in his Rolodex.