The next hour was a whirl of activity. As the first on the scene, he set up a perimeter as best as he was able before backup arrived, most of them familiar faces from Newport since their little station was too small to house many officers. By the time they took the body away, the crowd had doubled in size as more of the searchers were brought up to speed on what had just been found.
The whispered questions drifted through the air like the rustling of the trees. Was it Cynthia Johnson? Had she been found dead? Or was it some other, unfortunate camper that had been found? More than one person tried to question him, but Jack shut down, refusing to answer; until an official report was released, his personal thoughts on the scene no longer mattered.
Once or twice, he caught sight of Paige within the crowd. He honestly didn’t have time to think about her at the moment, but he found himself concerned about what she was doing. Or, rather, who she was speaking to.
After all, Olivia Clark was on his list to question. As Cynthia’s lawyer, Paige had no real reason to approach those close to the deceased.
Finally, heavy-hearted and weary, Jack left the scene. Since he wasn’t technically working, having joined the search efforts as one of the community rather than as the sheriff, he had no reason to remain on the scene after passing on the pertinent information to other attending officers.
Until tomorrow, at least, when it would be business as usual. For now, he would relish the break.
As he pushed his way back through the crowd, ignoring the questions thrown at him, Jack’s predominant thought was of his bed. He was more than prepared to go home and collapse on his comfortable mattress until he had to face the world again tomorrow. A flash of blonde hair caught his eye, however, and he reached out before he realized it, catching Paige’s wrist before she could dart off again.
“Paige,” he said solemnly as she turned to him, eyes wide. “Why don’t we go get that drink?”
She stared at him for a long moment, searching for something in his face. Perhaps it was his boldness, or perhaps something of his thoughts that showed on his face, but she nodded.
“All right then, Sheriff,” she teased lightly.
Jack smiled and let her go. “After you.”
Driving away from the camping ground relieved some of the pressure in his chest, and he focused on the road in front of him, guided only by the taillights on Paige’s car. Sighing, Jack opened his window, letting the cool breeze flow past him as he thought about the night’s events.
Someone had been murdered. Someone in his town had been killed, right under his nose. There was a killer in Otter Rock.
Don’t think about it, he told himself. Not yet.
It didn’t take long to get back to town and park. Paige was already out of her car and halfway to the door as he pulled himself to his feet, and he meandered along after her. The road was as peaceful as always, quiet other than the faint music pulsing from the pub, the only open venue at this time. Stepping through the door, the bright lights assaulted Jack’s tired eyes.
It wasn’t as busy as it normally was on any given day, but he wasn’t too surprised. Most of the regular patrons were still down at Beverly Beach State Park; Jack was half surprised that the pub was open at all. Yet Jackson Sanders still stood at the bar, quietly wiping down glasses, and spared them no more than a glance as they entered.
He took their orders and brought their drinks over as they settled in a booth, both relieved to relax for the moment. Jackson threw them both a quick smile and a nod but didn’t ask any questions as he busied himself on the other side of the bar.
“Quiet, isn’t he?” Paige commented. “I thought most bartenders were chatty.”
“Jackson isn’t much of a gossip,” Jack noted, hiding a smile behind his glass. He leaned back, wondering if he ought to bring up what had happened… but he didn’t want to think about it yet. “I’ve been meaning to ask… why are you here?”
“What?” Paige asked, blinking. She had obviously expected a different line of questioning. “You asked me here for a drink.”
“Not here, in this bar,” Jack clarified, shaking his head. “I mean here, in this town. Why are you back in Otter Rock?”
He could almost see her remembering, at the same time, the eighteen-year-old Paige claiming that she was going to leave and never return. Her dreams had been big, and she had been determined to chase them.
“Circumstances changed,” Paige answered after a long moment, a shutter closing behind her eyes. Whatever it was, she didn’t seem to want to talk about it. “I was living in Portland, and it didn’t agree with me. So I returned.”
“Yes, but it’s unusual for you to open a business in town,” Jack pointed out.
“I have my reasons,” Paige said, tossing her head. “And you? How did you end up as the sheriff?”
“I went to school, studied, and worked my way up the very small ladder,” Jack explained with a shrug. There was very little interesting in his story, and he wondered at her avoidance. “I did a search on you, you know. You were a big-shot lawyer, just like you always wanted.” He took a long drink, studying her face. “Why did you give it all up?”
Something flashed in her eyes. Anger? Embarrassment? Grief? He couldn’t quite tell, and then she closed off completely. He had pushed too far. He should have backed off before.
But he wanted to know. And, if he was honest, it hurt a little that the friend he had once shared everything with was now keeping secrets. Adulthood truly changed people, and that fact hit him harder at this moment than it ever had before.
“Nice catch-up,” he said, a little cooler than he meant to, as he drained his glass and made to stand.
“I’m going to investigate.”
The words tumbled into the air almost as though they didn’t belong there. Startled, Jack looked up at Paige’s face, set in stubborn determination. He recognized it; it was the face she wore when she wasn’t about to back down.
“That body, it was Cynthia’s, wasn’t it?” Paige asked. She forged on before he could answer. “She’s been killed. I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
“It could have been an accident,” Jack pointed out before he remembered he shouldn’t be discussing this with her.
“Then that’s the truth I’ll find.” Paige lifted her chin, almost glaring at him. “Cynthia was my client. I was the one that first filed a missing person’s report on her, and I’m invested in what happened to her. So I’m going to be looking into this.”
The unstated “whether you help me or not” hung between them. Jack groaned and settled back into his seat. It looked like he was talking about this after all.
“Paige, I know Cynthia was your client,” he began, running a rough hand over his face. “But you aren’t a police officer. You were just her lawyer. There is no way you can be part of this investigation, not legally.” He frowned. “Which you should already know.”
“I’m not trying to be part of the investigation team,” Paige stated. “I’m going to be looking into this on my own terms.”
So… she wanted to be a vigilante. Jack resisted the urge to close his eyes and sigh deeply.
“I don’t condone this,” he said, crossing his arms.
“Then look the other way,” she retorted. “First thing I’m going to do is track down that husband of hers. Based on what Cynthia said about his movements, he should be arriving home soon.”
“Paige…”
“Are you with me?” Paige asked, steamrolling right over his objections.
Jack stared at her helplessly. It was either ignore her and let her get into trouble on her own, or go with her and hopefully minimize the damage. This time he did sigh.
As if he had a choice. He never had a choice with Paige.
Maybe things haven’t changed that much.
“All right, but you follow my lead,” Jack warned, trying to ignore the warmth that flared in his chest at the pleased grin she gave him. “At the very least, I should inform him, in perso
n, that his wife’s body might have been found.”
“It isn’t conclusive?” Paige asked, finishing her drink. She waved to the bartender as they stood and headed for the door.
“Not officially,” Jack admitted. “But…”
He remembered the fine silver chain around the decaying neck, the very same necklace Cynthia Johnson had never taken off, and the matted brown hair obscuring the corpse’s face. He didn’t need an autopsy report to know whose body had been found tonight.
Paige walked toward her car, but Jack stopped her. “Come on, we’ll take one car. It’ll be quicker.”
While Otter Rock was a small town, there was one point of grandeur in the place. On the hill overlooking the town sat the large house where State Senator Robert Johnson lived with his wife and son. It was slightly apart from the town, but close enough to still be within its boundaries, almost as though the senator hadn’t wished to be any closer than necessary. Jack had never been there before, but the sheer size of the place struck him as they got closer.
“Politics pays, huh?” Paige asked with some humor. She sat up straighter. “Looks like we’ve arrived just in time.”
Following her gaze, Jack watched a sleek black car pull into the driveway in front of them. As they pulled in behind it, two men stepped out and turned toward them, gazes intense and distinctly unfriendly.
Jack had never met Senator Johnson before, but he had heard the rumors, and he felt instant dislike well in him at the sight of the suited figure. Unlike the expressive man he played for the crowd, he currently looked purely apathetic.
“Senator Johnson,” Jack addressed him as he stepped from the car, fishing in his pocket and withdrawing his badge. “My name is Jack Lewis, I’m the sheriff in Otter Rock. I’d like to speak to you about your wife, Cynthia.”
Something flashed across the senator’s face, but before the man could say anything, his companion stepped between them, forcing Jack to take a step back.
“Good evening, Sheriff Lewis,” the man said smoothly, putting his hand out to shake. “My name is Alexander Orman. I’m Senator Johnson’s campaign manager.”
“Yes, good to meet you,” Jack acknowledged him with a nod, barely aware of Paige coming up behind him. Johnson’s face had become impassive again. “However, I do need to see Senator Johnson…”
“Senator Johnson is extremely busy,” Orman said imperiously, “and cannot answer your questions right now. Please return at a more suitable time.”
Too stunned to answer, Jack could only gape as the manager ushered Johnson away. Briefly, the senator looked back, and then the door closed behind them, cutting them off from any further interaction.
“That was… interesting,” Paige observed. “And kind of suspicious.”
“And that, right there, is why civilians aren’t involved in investigations,” Jack said dryly. “Don’t jump to conclusions. I’ll just have to try again later.”
He didn’t say it, but he agreed with Paige, and he cast a suspicious look back at the house as he got in his car. He wasn’t sure what, yet… but something was definitely up.
5
The Senator’s Secrets
Paige felt oddly like a little girl playing dress-up as she tugged the brim of her hat down further and huddled into her coat. It was like being on a television show, where the detective poorly disguises herself and sits at a café across the road, waiting for her moment to strike.
Except Paige was neither on a TV show nor a detective. Jack had left her behind the moment they had arrived at Senator’s Johnson’s office in Newport, and she watched as the sheriff flashed his badge and made his case for gaining entry.
“Now that I’m officially on business, I can’t have you tagging along so conspicuously,” Jack had said, scowling at her. “You’ve already weaseled your way into accompanying me, so don’t look at me like that.” Then he had shoved the hat on her head. “I don’t need Senator Johnson recognizing you and getting curious. It’s best for you to lay low.”
Paige propped her chin on her hand and stifled a laugh when she saw that another frowning man had joined the security at the door. It was hard to tell from here, but she thought that the man might be a lawyer, which meant Senator Johnson had prepared for Jack’s return today.
Jack wasn’t going to have an easy time convincing them to let him see the senator, but she couldn’t feel too much sympathy; while she was aware that she wasn’t technically supposed to be on this investigation, she was too annoyed at being sidelined to care that much. Maybe if the sheriff failed, he would more readily ask for her help.
She sighed and leaned back. While Jack had been as easy-going as she was high-strung growing up, he had also proven himself to be just as stubborn. He wouldn’t admit he was wrong until she forced him to.
Of course, there was no way for her to do so just now. Not while she was sitting at a café with a cooling cup of coffee in front of her.
Idly, she picked up her spoon and stirred the coffee, for lack of anything else to do. The stares of the café staff bored into her back, and she pulled a face; Jack might have wanted her to stay under the radar, but his disguises left a lot to be desired; she was more conspicuous than ever in this get up.
The lawyer finally relented and allowed Jack into the building. Paige highly doubted he would be allowed to see the senator, though, especially since the very man they were here to see appeared to be leaving through a side door.
Paige straightened abruptly in her seat, eyes wide. Wait, why was Senator Johnson sneaking out of his own office? Unlike the impassive man from last night or the impassioned man she saw on television, he now seemed nervous and twitchy as he looked around and walked off quickly, trying and failing to act normally.
For a moment, Paige considered messaging Jack. This was the perfect time to get the senator on his own and question him about his wife.
Instead, she tucked her phone away in her pocket and left the café. Jack could stay behind and distract Johnson’s lawyers. Then he’d see how he liked being sidelined.
As he walked further away from the office, Johnson started to relax, apparently convinced that he hadn’t been seen. Strolling down the street, he fit right in with the bustling crowd rushing to and from work, unlike Paige, who stuck out like a sore thumb. She forced herself to remain a considerable distance from the senator, not wanting him to turn around and see an obviously shady figure following him.
Before long, the senator slowed to a stop in front of a large hotel. Frowning slightly, Paige ducked into an alley and pulled off her hat and coat. What business did the senator have at a hotel?
Casually, Paige entered through the gilded doors and ducked out of sight behind a group of young adults when she saw Johnson at the front desk. Sidling closer to the desk and trying not to make it obvious she was looking, she grabbed a pamphlet and turned her head slightly just in time to see the receptionist smile and give Johnson a key card. She caught a flash of the number 315 before he tucked the card away, and she turned her back as the senator walked toward the elevators.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” another receptionist asked politely.
“No, thank you,” Paige replied, putting the pamphlet back and turning to make her own way to the elevators.
Three other people joined her in the elevator, and she pressed herself close to the back after punching the number for the third floor. As the elevator slowly made its way up, the phone in her pocket buzzed.
Where are you?
Jack. No doubt he had realized the senator wasn’t present and had gone to collect her.
Out, she answered, still irritated over being left behind.
Still, it looked as if something good might have come of that. Paige didn’t know what the senator was up to, but something had to be going on for him to sneak out of his office like that. Even if he was just going home early on a Saturday (though he was no doubt working around the clock as elections got closer), it didn’t account for his odd behavior.
&n
bsp; Thankfully, she was the only one to stop on the third floor. Extricating herself from the chattering hotel guests, she sighed in relief when the doors closed behind her, leaving her on the much quieter floor, only to look up and suddenly see exactly who she was looking for.
“Oh my god,” she said, stunned.
Almost as though he had been burned, the senator jumped back from his companion, who he had been pressing against a nearby door as he fumbled with his key card, and removed his hands from around her waist. The tall, voluptuous woman he was with, in contrast to Johnson’s panicked expression, glared at Paige.
“Oh my god,” Paige repeated, this time in disgust. “Your wife might be dead, and you’re sleeping with someone else?”
It wasn’t really a matter of him sleeping around; this wasn’t exactly a shock based on some of the things Cynthia had told her. The fact that he was messing around with this woman the day after the discovery of his wife’s corpse was the most disgusting part of this.
“I… you… you were with the sheriff last night,” the senator said, the color draining from his face.
Sorry, Jack. There goes your plans for me remaining anonymous, Paige thought unapologetically.
The reminder of the sheriff, however, gave Paige an idea. No matter how hard Jack questioned Robert Johnson, he would probably never get his answers. The senator was a politician through and through.
Paige, however, had just caught him in a very compromising position. It suddenly occurred to her that her phone was still in her hand, almost as though she could have taken a picture with it. She could use this to her advantage.
“Yes, I’m assisting Sheriff Lewis on the investigation into the disappearance and death of your wife, Cynthia Johnson,” she said, squaring her shoulders. “We confirmed her identity this morning.” She speared the woman behind him with a pointed look. “I believe it will be in your best interest to answer some questions.”
Secrets of a Small Town Page 3