Roy had never thought to tell Jenny to explain what their investigation had turned up to Joey, either. They had both been more concerned with letting him know he was soon to be a free man.
“Hey, now.”
He caught sight of Jenny's tears and reached out his hand. She took it gratefully and squeezed tightly.
“Where are those tears coming from? It's only going to get better from here, I promise you that, Jenny.”
“He looked so heartbroken. He knew she had been having an affair behind his back, but he hadn't known the traitor was someone so close to home.”
“If it was going to be anyone, it had to be someone in town.” Roy reminded her gently. “Whoever it turned out to be, Joey was going to know them to some degree. That's what a small town is all about. Everyone knows everyone else and a large amount of their business, too.”
“I worry he's going to do or say something while he's in there that gets him in even deeper trouble.”
“Joey is a pretty smart guy. You told him about the call to the police commissioner, I assume?”
She nodded her head.
“Then he already knows his time in there is about to come to an end. He wouldn't be so foolish as to risk it all now when he's so close to being free.”
“He might still act on it, regardless. He looked so hurt in there. He was like a caged animal.”
“But he has to be considering the bigger picture, too,” Roy pointed out. “He has Isabelle to think about. He wouldn't jeopardize returning home to her by acting like an idiot in there. You've got to give your brother a little more credit.”
“I guess I do.”
She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
“I guess there has to be a first time for everything.”
“I have another first for you,” Roy told her as he dropped her hand to rise to his feet. “You, Jenny Dale, will soon have your first phone conversation with a police commissioner.”
“How dreadfully exciting.”
He was grateful to see her smiling again.
* * *
Bright and early the next morning, Jenny waited nervously on the line as the phone began to ring.
She knew what she had to say to the police commissioner. Roy had coached her through a basic story that would get them off the hook for one or two of the illegal aspects of their investigation, such as the circumstances surrounding the retrieval of the police badge. As much as she hated lying, but if they admitted to being in the house after the fire, it might give reason to suspect that they had planted the badge at the scene. The police had done an initial search, after all, and had not discovered it.
“Chief Cartright wouldn't have wanted them looking too hard. He probably hurried the search for clues, insisting that they had their man already. Joey had cradled Chloe's body in his arms when he found her, so he had her blood all over his uniform shirt. Joey was a sitting duck. ”
Jenny agreed he was probably right.
Just when she was ready to end the call, a woman came on the line. She sounded out of breath as if she had rushed to answer the call.
“Police Commissioner Gatrall's office, who, may I ask, is calling?”
“Uh, this is Jenny Dale.”
She was rattled. The commissioner’s name hadn't been the same one that Roy had found scribbled on a piece of paper in his office. She held the phone a little tighter.
“My brother is Officer Joey Dale of the Ombrea Police Department. I would like to speak to the police commissioner about how his case is being handled.”
“Your brother has been accused of a crime, ma'am?”
“Murder.” Jenny swallowed hard. Her mouth felt horribly dry. She thought she would have more confidence when it came to making this call, but even the receptionist was making her nervous.
“The Ombrea police department, did you say?” Jenny could hear computer keys clicking in the background.
“Yes, it's in West Virginia.”
“I know where it is, ma'am. Hold on one second.”
A burst of jazz suddenly replaced the receptionist's voice.
“Well?” Roy mouthed at her as she turned to him.
“I think she put me on hold.”
He gave her a thumbs-up.
“That's a good sign.”
She switched the phone to her other ear so she could rub her hand on her jeans. It was slick with sweat.
“I don't think I can do this.”
“Relax, you're doing great so far. Just stay calm.”
“Hello?” A male voice suddenly replaced the jazz music in her ear.
“Miss Jenny Dale?”
“Just Jenny, please.”
It was clear she had been taken by surprise. Roy hoped she could keep it together.
“Well, Just Jenny, what can I do for you? My receptionist says you’re calling in regards to your brother, Joey, who is an officer with the Ombrea Police Department.”
“He is. I mean, that's exactly why I'm calling. He's been arrested for the murder of his wife, Chloe.”
“I think I've heard about this case.”
The commissioner didn't let on to how much he knew.
“I've got the time to listen to whatever it is you want to tell me about it.”
“You see sir, he didn’t' do it.”
“No?”
“No, he was set up. I have the evidence to prove it, too, sir.”
“Set up by whom?”
The commissioner didn't seem confident in her claim.
“And what evidence is this?”
Jenny took a deep breath before she continued. “I believe he was set up by Chief Cartright, sir.”
“Chief James Cartright?”
She could hear the commissioner moving papers around on his desk.
“You're telling me that your brother was set up by his own supervising officer?”
“Indeed, I am, sir. Like I said, I have evidence to back up my claims.”
“Go on.”
“I'm the last surviving relative of my brother's daughter, Isabelle. I came to Ombrea to take care of her while her father is in jail,” Jenny explained.
She kept her eyes on Roy for strength as she continued.
“I was cleaning up the house. I didn't think Isabelle should have to see the bedroom where her mother had died in such a state. I found a badge tucked under the bed.”
“What kind of badge was this?”
“Sorry, a police badge sir. My brother's badge is still pinned on his uniform at the police station. There’s a rumor going around town that I had confirmed by my brother. His wife had been having an affair with someone in town. I know for a fact that the badge I found under his bed was not Joey's police number, so I feel confident enough to say that it must have belonged to Chloe's lover. ”
“Chloe being his wife?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is it an official police badge, though?”
The commissioner asked her the one question she hadn't been expecting.
“How can you be sure it's not a prop from part of a costume?”
“I know it's real, sir. I asked a veteran police officer in town to confirm it for me.”
She heard the creak of a desk chair. It was clear the commissioner was considering her claims.
“What is the name of this veteran police officer?”
“Roy Peters.”
Much to her surprise, the commissioner began to laugh.
“Roy Peters? Did he mention ever having been in the armed forces?”
“Uh, yeah, I think he was.”
She glanced down at the army shirt she had borrowed from Roy's drawer only this morning.
“He definitely was.”
“Then I know Roy Peters quite well,” the commissioner explained. “I was leading his group on my last tour of Afghanistan. He's definitely a good man. He even saved my life once, although he is too modest to admit to it.”
Jenny felt like jumping up in the air. This man knew Roy, and
quite well, by the sound of it. It looked as if they might have an easier job of this than she had first thought.
“He has been a big help with my brother's case,” Jenny explained with new confidence. “He saved my life too, sir. That was what I was getting to. We think Chief Cartright may have caught on to what I had found, because he threw a Molotov cocktail through the living room window of my brother's home. I believe he had every intention of killing me and destroying any evidence left behind.”
“That's an awfully big claim, Miss Dale,” the commissioner told her. “You found the police badge in your brother's home. You think it may be Chief Cartright's police number. I fail to see how you now have connected him to the arson?”
“When I first came to the house, I noticed a blue wine bottle in the fridge. It's called Rosaceae. It's an expensive brand you usually only find on the shelves of specialty wine stores in the big cities.”
“It's in my fridge too, as a matter of fact.”
“Right. I'd seen it at my editor's party once before and gone to buy a bottle. Chloe enjoyed wine as much as the next person, but she was always going for the cheapest brand or the prettiest label. I couldn't see her spending that much on wine.”
“Go on.”
“I saw the Molotov cocktail right before the living room set alight. It was in a blue bottle exactly the same as the one that had been in Chloe's fridge. The fire chief here has even confirmed that.”
“Okay. You've got my interest.”
Jenny was on a roll now.
“I went to the liquor store in town on the off chance he may be stocking it. He said he had never seen it in his life, but he seemed on edge. He called me the next day and asked me to come back into the store with Roy.
“He admitted he had been forced to lie. He told us that Chief Cartright had been the one ordering in the Rosaceae wine. Lawrence, the shop owner, used to be a petty thief back in his college days. He's going on in years now, but Chief Cartright was holding his past crimes against him to get the man to do his bidding. He was terrified that if he didn't order the wine in each week and keep it an absolute secret from anyone who asked, he would be sent immediately to jail.”
“Will he repeat this to me if I ask?”
“I think he will, sir. But he's terrified of what may happen in regards to his petty theft. He's been out of that business for over twenty years. I don't think he even associates with the same people he ran around with back in the day.”
“I promise to be gentle with him, Miss Dale, if he cooperates, but I do need to hear this story from him.”
“I understand, sir.”
“I'll have to come into town and see what this is all about first hand. I'll head out there in the morning and touch base with you then. Is this the number I can reach you at?”
“Yes, sir, it's Roy Peters’s number.”
The commissioner started to chuckle again.
“Roy Peters. Who would have believed I would ever see him again? Okay, Jenny. I'll be in touch.”
Chapter 31
Roy couldn't believe how excited Jenny was as she said her goodbyes and hung up the phone.
“I'm assuming it all went well, then?” he asked, flinching as she jumped up on him.
She pulled him close before backing up just enough to plant a big kiss on his lips. He reacted quickly, his hand sliding up her lower back as he held her close.
“He's coming in the morning,” she explained when they finally released each other and he could catch his breath.
“He said he will call when gets to town. He wants to talk to Lawrence first.”
“What about Lawrence’s past? Do you think he's going to prosecute him?”
“He said he would go easy on him.”
She had a mischievous glint in her eye.
“But that's not even the best part.”
“What?”
Roy didn't know what it could be.
“Does he believe we have a case?”
“I think he does. He must be interested if he is coming into town. But listen, you’re not going to believe this.”
“He knows you. He said you did a tour in Afghanistan together.”
“Is that so?”
“The name on the paper you gave me was wrong. He must have retired. I spoke with a guy called Gatrall.”
“Gatrall?”
Roy couldn't believe it.
He knew Ben Gatrall well. Ben had been his commanding officer when he was in Afghanistan and he had been glad to be assigned to his platoon. Ben was a good soldier, and an good-natured one at that.
They had been sent one afternoon to deliver some basic supplies to a settlement about five miles off base. Everything went according to plan until about half way along the route. The truck needed to be stopped so that the supplies could be secured. The rough terrain often loosened the best of knots.
Even though he was in charge, Ben still jumped down from the cab to do it. He was whistling as he walked around to the back of the truck.
Roy followed along to help him, and that was when he saw a black sliver poking out of the sand. He tackled Ben to the ground seconds before he would have stepped on it and blown them all away.
Ben had been praising him ever since. To Roy, it was just a part of the job. They lost touch when Roy was ordered to retire. Roy couldn't recall having reconnected with any of his army buddies after he set up home in Ombrea. He knew he could never face that life again, not even in conversation. It was best for everyone, especially himself, if he put his army days behind him.
But Ben Gatrall would be coming into town the next morning. His connection to Roy might even be what had piqued his interest in Joey Dale's case.
For Joey, Roy was sure he could pull himself together and see Ben again.
* * *
“Jenny?”
“Speaking.”
“It's Ben Gatrall. I'm calling to say I made it into town.”
“Thank you again for coming out, sir. You can't imagine how much we appreciate you hearing us out.”
“Of course. I'm going to head to the liquor store now and speak to Lawrence. I was hoping to come out and see Roy after if he's available.”
“He should be.”
Jenny glanced down the hall to the bathroom door.
Roy had seemed quiet since she told him Ben Gatrall was the police commissioner who would be handling the case. She assumed he would be overjoyed. After all, it meant they had someone on their side who trusted them. All they had to do now was explain the aspects of the case to him and have it backed up by people like Lawrence and Joey. It seemed pretty straight forward. Joey could be a free man by the end of the day.
Yet, Roy wasn't showing the same level of excitement. He was moody and quiet, so she had left him to himself, only speaking to him when he started a conversation with her first. Once or twice, she thought she noticed his hands shaking, but he had quickly shoved them out of sight or left the room to avoid confronting it. She didn't dare ask him about it. She knew that when he was good and ready he would be straight with her.
“Great. I just need the address.”
Jenny gave him the directions he would need to reach the cabin and ended the call.
Finally, everything seemed to be going their way. She shot another nervous glance toward the bathroom. She wished Roy would tell her what was going on with him.
* * *
Roy had long ago finished washing. The once hot water was beginning to run cold, but he couldn't find it in himself to leave the shower just yet. He rested his forehead against the cold tile and closed his eyes.
Normally, he would have spent this alone time thinking about Jenny. Being with her felt so right. She had saved him.
But now he couldn't focus on that. His mind was swirling with memories he had long ago suppressed, sometimes with a few shots of whiskey. He couldn't get away from the thoughts no matter how hard he tried. He could hear the shouts of men in his head and the whirr of helicopter blades. He could sme
ll the stench of congealed blood on his uniform. He could still feel a twinge of pain when he touched his right shoulder.
That was where the bullet had pierced him. He had broken his arm as a kid, but he had never experienced pain like this before. It tore through every inch of his body. The pain grew in intensity with each passing second. He could still feel his shoulder blade shifting when he moved his right arm too far back.
The men he had been with at the time had dragged him back to the convoy and got him to the closest medical unit. He could remember the face of the medical doctor who had helped to patch him back up as if he had just seen him yesterday. But it was the doctor's words that had haunted him ever since. You'll be back out there in no time, son.
Roy didn't want to be back out there. The shot to his shoulder shook him up. He was weak now, damaged goods. He couldn't go back out and face this all again. He wanted to run back to shelter. He knew he was a failure. He knew he was letting down his own country, his own friends, even, but he couldn't shake the fear.
A knock at the bathroom door startled him.
“Roy?”
Jenny wiggled the door knob.
“Roy, are you okay in there?”
“Yeah, I'll be out in a minute.”
Roy turned off the shower and stood there for a moment.
“I just have to get dressed.”
“Okay.”
He could hear the worry in her voice. He hated that she was concerned about him.
He stepped out of the shower and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. He didn't like the man staring back at him.
Roy dressed quickly in his bedroom. He had shut the door in the hopes it would keep Jenny from walking in to talk to him. Luckily for him, it worked. She kept her distance.
He hated himself for keeping her at bay like this. A couple of days ago, he would have loved for her to walk in. He would have loved to take her in his arms and spend the next hour or so in bed with her.
Isabelle's girlish scream cut through the morning air, startling him.
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