Vindication: Of Demons & Stones: Tri-Stone Trilogy, Book Three

by Anne L. Parks

  Well, fuck. I hadn't counted on them being a step ahead of me. But what's more troubling is the fact that they have it in response to an anonymous call about suspicious activity. That's not standard operating procedure, and my lawyer spidey-senses kick into high gear. There is something going on here that we don't know about. I scan the document. It restricts the search to the boathouse only.

  "Alex, can you call Thomas to escort the officers to the boathouse?"

  Alex nods, and pulls his cell phone from his pocket. Stepping away, he presses his phone to his ear. I can't hear what he's saying, which is fine. It means the cops can't either.

  Alex steps next to me, sliding his arm around my waist. "Thomas is wrapping up his work out. He's just gone to change clothes, and will be here in a moment. Would you like some coffee while you wait?"

  "No," the taller officer says. "Is there some reason you can't just point us in the right direction and allow us to execute this warrant?"

  "Yes," I answer. "I want to ensure that you stick to the area the warrant covers."

  The officer eyeballs me. I'm guessing he didn't get the memo that Alex Stone's wife is a criminal defense attorney.

  Within a few minutes, Thomas comes down the hall from the gym, and escorts the officers out the back door.

  Jake comes in after they leave, a grim line across his face. "We have a serious problem."

  "Let's talk in the study, " Alex says.

  Once inside, Jake takes a deep breath and holds onto it for a moment before releasing it. He pulls his hand down over his face. "There's a dead body in the boathouse."

  What the fuck? Oh, this is so much worse than I had considered. "You're sure the person is dead?"

  Alex walks over to the bar, pours two glasses of scotch, and hands one to Jake.

  "Yeah," Jake says, lifting the glass to his lips. "There's a huge hole in his chest."

  I swing my gaze back Alex. "Who is it?" I ask, and hold my breath. I almost don't want to know the answer.

  Jake looks at Alex. "James Wells."

  Alex drops into a chair, and tosses back the scotch in his glass. "Shit."

  My brain shifts into overdrive. The cops will call in what they find, and soon detectives, forensic specialists, and more cops will be crawling all over the estate. "Did either you or Thomas touch anything?"

  "Only the doorknob," Jake says.

  "Gloves on?"

  He nods, and empties his glass.

  "Neither one of you was there. You've been in the house the entire time."

  "Now what?" Alex asks.

  "We wait for the sky to fall."

  * * *

  Within an hour, the crime scene unit, with all their vans, arrive at the house and start processing the boathouse. The coroner showed up and confirmed that the body was dead. I watch the coroner's van pulls away with the body of my father-in-law in the back.

  Good riddance, you bastard.

  I know should feel something akin to sorrow or grief over his death. I mean, a man is dead. But I can't muster up anything more than relief that he is out of Alex's life for good. And anger that his final act—dying—may cause more trouble for Alex than anything the asshole did during his lifetime.

  "So, you have no idea how your father ended up dead and in your boathouse, is that right, Mr. Stone?"

  I glare at Reyes. Of course—of course—it had to be him that the DA's office sent out to investigate. It's not completely unheard of that the DA would be involved at this stage of the investigation, but they usually send an assistant DA, not the investigator. There are no charges filed, and no reason for Reyes to be involved at this stage. Matt will be hearing from me as soon as I can get Reyes the hell out of my house.

  "Detective Reyes, this is the fourth time you have asked that question," I say. "If you can't recall the answer, please consult your notes. As we have stated, over and over, no one in this house had any idea there was a dead body in the boathouse."

  Reyes flips through his notepad, ignoring me. "According to your head of security, the cameras at the boathouse aren't working, and so, no video to review. Were you aware of that, Mr. Stone?"

  "Yes," Alex says. "Jake let me know there were issues, and was in the process of getting an estimate to determine if they could be repaired or needed to be replaced."

  I glance at him. What the hell? Why didn't he tell me about this? Later. I don't want to give Reyes the satisfaction of knowing Alex kept something from me.

  "When was the last time you were in the boathouse?" Reyes stares at Alex.

  Alex shakes his head. "It's been a few months, I guess. When I winterized the boat, most likely. October, November, maybe?"

  "You weren't in there yesterday? Last night?"

  "No."

  "We won't find evidence to the contrary?"

  "Exactly what type of evidence are you referring to, Detective?" I ask.

  Reyes shifts in his seat to square off with me. "Is there a reason you're not letting your husband answer my questions?"

  "I will not allow you to ask a vague question and apply his answer to a specific question just so you can attempt to show he was being deceptive." I cross my arms over my chest, and keep eye contact with him.

  "And how would that work, Mrs. Stone?"

  "You know very well that fingerprints will be taken and logged as evidence. Then you will discover that my husband’s prints are all over the place. It won't make a damn bit of difference if it's because it's his boathouse. If he states that you won't find any evidence of him in there, you'll use that as proof he's lying. And if he's lying about that…well, you can see where this all goes awry."

  Reyes narrows his eyes, and glares. "Do you own a gun, Mr. Stone?"

  "Is there a specific type of gun you are looking for, Detective?" I ask. I can do this all day, asshole.

  "I don't know yet, but the victim has a gunshot wound to his chest. Mr. Stone?"

  Alex looks at me. I nod my head. "I don't personally own a gun," he says.

  "But there are guns in the house?"

  "Yes, Jake would have that information."

  A forensics specialist enters the room. "Excuse me, Detective Reyes. We're through."

  Reyes glances at the man. "Find anything?"

  The man shakes his head. "No, there doesn't appear to be any large amounts of blood in the house."

  Why are they checking the house for blood?

  "You don't think James was shot at the boathouse," I say to Reyes.

  He breathes noisily out his nose. "It would appear from our initial investigation that the victim was shot and died at a different location. The killer apparently wanted to find a place that was not frequented during the winter months to store the body until it could be disposed of."

  Apparently, my ass. I hate when theories are thrown out as fact at the start of an investigation.

  "Or frame someone living in this house," I add. "There's no blood evidence in the house or elsewhere on the grounds that would indicate he was shot on the property. I think that supports the argument that this is a set up."

  "I disagree." Reyes has his eyes cast down, apparently reading his notepad.

  I snort. "So, your theory is that James was killed by one of us somewhere off this property, but was brought back here? Do you hear how ludicrous that sounds?"

  "We haven't ruled anything out at this early stage."

  "I disagree,” I throw back at him. "You seem to be focusing all your questions on Alex."

  Reyes lifts his eyes to mine, and the coldness I see in them sends a chill through me. "Are you acting as his wife or his attorney?"

  "Are you taking a statement or interrogating him?" I ask. "Let me ask you this, Detective. Why would he kill someone and bring the body back here where it would be discovered and he would become a suspect?"

  "Maybe he's banking on his brilliant criminal defense attorney wife to get him off?"

  I stand and gesture towards the door. "I think we're done here, Detective."

&nb
sp; Reyes points his finger at Alex. "Don't leave town, Mr. Stone. I'm sure I'll have more questions for you as the investigation evolves." He stands, and shoves his notepad into the inside pocket of his coat, and glances at me. "It's too bad you're on the wrong side again—back to defending criminals. I had so much respect for you when we were working together. It's part of what lead to our kiss."

  Bastard.

  Alex's face drains of all color, and his body is rigid.

  Reyes snickers. "She didn't tell you about that?" He swings his gaze to me, his eyes gleaming. "The basis of a good marriage is honesty, Kylie. Don't you think Alex deserves to know what happened between us before he put that ring on your finger?" Zipping his jacket, he glances between Alex and me. "Looks like you two need to have some alone time to talk this out. I'll be in touch."

  "Have your boss find probable cause and issue an arrest warrant. Until then, any further contact from you and I'll file a charge of harassment."

  Dropping onto the couch beside Alex, I take his hand in mine. "Alex, the kiss meant nothing."

  "What?" He slides away from me, pulling his hand out of my grasp. "I was expecting you to tell me he was lying—that the kiss never happened." His gaze drops to his lap. He shakes his head before looking at me again. "You kissed him?"

  "No, he kissed me."

  "Semantics, counselor."

  "There's a big difference. I wasn't expecting him to kiss me. I didn't ask for it, I didn't want it, and I absolutely did not kiss him back."

  The silence in the room is as thick as early morning fog. Alex inhales sharply. "When did this happen?"

  "The day you came to my office—"

  "The day he walked in on us kissing?"

  "Yes. I was leaving for the day. He followed me out. When we got to the bottom of the stairs—he caught me off-guard. I pushed him away, and that was the end of it."

  Alex pulls his hand down his face. "Why would he do that? What made him think there was a chance the two of you would get together?"

  "He told me he had to give it a shot."

  Alex exhales. I hate the way he's looking at me, furrowing his brow. Eyes filled with questions.

  "Alex, I told him that nothing would ever happen because I am in love with you and always will be."

  "Not at the time…you left me, remember?"

  "I never stopped loving you. I knew you were the only man I wanted a future with—no one else." I scoot closer to him, and caress his face. "I was so excited about how things how ended with us earlier in the day. I decided to surprise you at the awards gala. That's were my thoughts were, and why I wasn't paying attention to Reyes."

  "Why didn't you tell me, Kylie?"

  "I honestly didn't think it was a big deal—I shut it down immediately. I also didn't want it to ruin our reunion. I'm so sorry, babe. I should have known he would try to use it to drive a wedge between us. Please, we have so much going on—this is not worth another minute of our time."

  "I'm not sure what to think," he says. He rolls his shoulders and tips his head to one side. The vertebrae in his neck pop like a row of dominoes falling.

  "I know. We've had a hell of a day—which is saying something for us."

  That gets a half-hearted chuckle from Alex, which sends a wave of relief through me. "You didn't get much sleep last night. No wonder you're feeling out of sorts. You need to lay down, and get some rest."

  He lifts his head enough for his gaze to meet mine. "With everything that's going on, you think I can sleep?"

  "I said you need to sleep. There are some methods we can use that will aid in that area."

  He stares at me for a moment, and I'm not sure if he is still too upset about learning of the kiss Reyes laid on me, or if his brain is just not firing on all cylinders and is trying to comprehend my sexual overture. "What methods are you proposing?" He asks with a quirky grin.

  "I am at your disposal, Mr. Stone. Whatever you would like me to do, I'm happy to accommodate." I stand and reach out my hand to him.

  He looks at it for a moment, sighs, and stands just inches away from me. Before he can move away, I crash my lips against his. With so much crap happening, and even more to come in the next few days while the investigation continues, I need for him to remember that we are a team. No one can come between us, no matter how hard they try, or what they insinuate.

  We stare into each others eyes. The man has always been able to see what's in my heart and soul. He squeezes my hand, and leads me down the hall to our bedroom.

  An hour later, after coaxing a few toe-curling orgasms from me, Alex is fast asleep. I carefully slip out of bed, dress, and head into the kitchen for something to eat. Maggie left a note that there is chicken salad in the refrigerator, and homemade sliced bread on the counter.

  Jake enters the kitchen as I'm scooping chicken salad onto a slice of bread. "Want a sandwich?" I ask.

  He shakes his head. "No, already had one earlier."

  I place another slice of bread on top and smash it down so I can fit it in my mouth. "We need to get on top of this investigation. It's going to get ugly, and they seem to be tunneling their vision on Alex." I take a bite, and stare at him.

  "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. Any ideas where to start?"

  "We need to find out who this anonymous tipper is. Maybe they can lead to whoever killed James and put his body in the boathouse."

  "Someone went to a lot of trouble to shine suspicion on Alex."

  "Yeah, we need to figure out who and why. I'm going to see if I can get a meeting with the Matt, and find out what he knows."

  "Do you really think the DA is going to share info with you when you're married to his prime suspect in a murder case?"

  "I'm hoping if I get to him before any charges are filed, I can get this stopped before Alex moves from prime suspect to alleged murderer. He may not give me anything, but I have to try."

  "I'll tap some people I know on the shoulder that owe me some favors. Maybe they can provide some light on who the tipper is." Jake strolls past me and down the hall.

  "Let me know what you find out," I call after him.

  Someone is trying to frame Alex. But who? And why? The likeliest answer would be James, but since he's the murder victim, he's off the list. Could this be John's handiwork? Or is there a new threat, one lurking in the shadows, just waiting for the perfect time to strike.

  If so, we may be in more serious trouble than I thought. How do we uncover a threat we never knew exists?

  Twenty-One

  I knock on Matt's door, and poke my head into his office.

  "Hey, Kylie," Matt says, looking up from his computer screen. "Come on in."

  I sit in one of two chairs across from where he sits behind his desk. He leans back in his chair, and steeples his fingertips. "I heard you had some activity at your house this weekend. What can I do for you?"

  Well, at least I know how he's going to play this—minimal information provided on his part with the expectation I will give him a complete data dump of what I know. Not that I can blame him. I'm employing the same tactic on him. This will either evolve into a successful meeting where we both get some of what we want, or both be disappointed.

  "We did. I was a little surprised that an investigator from the DA's office was interviewing us before there is even a case filed with your office. Is that new standard operating procedure here?"

  "Detective Reyes was there as a representative of my office. You know that an ADA is called whenever there is a homicide in this county. You're part of a very high-profile family now, Kylie, so naturally we would have someone there."

  "I understand, but unless I've missed something, Reyes is not an assistant district attorney—or even an attorney. So why was he sent?"

  "We thought since you two had worked closely together in the past, you would feel more comfortable with him there."

  "Oh, so you did this for me?" I pause and stare at him. "I'm going to call bullshit on that one, Matt. I think you did it to get u
nder Alex's skin."

  "Why would I do that? Your husband is a leader in the community, and has very influential friends. It doesn't make much sense to piss him off."

  "I just want to make sure the police, and your office, are examining all possibilities, and not locking onto one suspect hoping to make the evidence fit."

  Matt leans forward, his elbows on his desk. A storm brews behind his narrowed eyes. "Meaning what, exactly?"

  No need to hold back now.

  "You're up for re-election, and it's clear Reyes has a personal vendetta."

  Matt's jaws clench, and the vein in his neck pulses. "I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear you accuse me of malicious prosecution in order to secure re-election."

  "Don't send Reyes back to my house. Without any charges filed, it's as inappropriate as he is."

  I strut out the door without another word, making sure to leave his door open so he is forced to watch me walk down the hallway. I may not have gotten the information I wanted, but I won this battle. It's a small one, but at least Matt knows I'm on to him.

  How he deals with it will be the next step. He'll either back off and let the investigation unfold naturally, or insert himself into it to get the result he wants—Alex arrested and charged with the murder of his father.

  I've beaten Matt in court before, and I know it still bothers him. So, will he decide not to risk losing again so close to an election, or pull out all the stops to take down someone highly respected throughout the world?

  I shudder at the prospect that it may be the latter.

  * * *

  "Hey, Maggie," I say as I walk into the kitchen from the garage. "Do you know if Alex is up?"

  "Yes, he's in the living room. We have a visitor."

  "What visitor?"

  "I don't know who she is, dear. I'm sorry."

  Great. I told both Alex and Jake that they were not to let the police in until I got home. I don't want them questioning either of them without me being present. I've seen even the most level-headed people get twisted around during questioning. It's hard to explain what was meant after the words have been spoken. People will come to the conclusions they want, and no amount of explanation will change their minds. Best not to say anything at all.