by Honor Bound
Could it be political?
Sand Point politics were still a mystery to him. He would have to ask Kelly about it…and see if she’d say more about the Bryants’ disagreement.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON and Kelly sat on the deck, soaking in the pale sunshine. She could sense winter dancing in the air, anxious to arrive after giving them a brief autumn summer, but it wasn’t here yet. She wanted to enjoy the light while it lasted.
Funny that the restless solitude of the ocean could be soothing—maybe because it was so big, it made her feel less alone in contrast.
With the exception of an unnamed father who’d gone AWOL before she was born, she didn’t have any blood relatives. Shanna had said it didn’t matter that it was just the two of them, that you depended on yourself, anyway. But family did matter, and once Shanna was gone, the aloneness was overwhelming. Yet she hadn’t been as alone as she’d felt; Henry and Gina and Mitch had made sure she wasn’t.
Kelly wiggled in the chaise. She’d told Ben that he’d always had Henry and Gina to count on, but she was lucky he hadn’t thrown it back at her. She could have relied on his aunt and uncle when her mother died, but it wouldn’t have seemed fair. Whether they saw her as a daughter or not, they didn’t have any responsibility toward her. Yet even as she told herself that, she had a dizzying vision of how everything was connected. Through the millennia of human history, few people had ever truly done anything alone.
“Kelly, are you out there?”
Ben’s disembodied voice sent her bolt upright.
“Yes, I’m here.” She scrambled from the chaise and hurried to the end of the deck.
He was leaning on the corner of the house. “Thank God, I’ve been ringing the bell for almost five minutes. I was ready to kick the door in with my best Bruce Willis movie-cop impression. I want to ask you some stuff.” Oh, goody.
“Here, come on out.” She tossed him her keys and sat down on the chaise again.
A minute later Ben dropped the keys onto her tummy. “Do you usually come out here with your key ring?”
“And my cell phone. The slider locks itself if you shut it too hard. Fortunately I discovered that when I was on the inside, and not the out.”
“Good to know.”
He leaned back against the railing, still wearing his uniform. Kelly ignored the pull deep in her abdomen.
“I’ve been thinking about Sand Point politics,” Ben said after a moment.
“What about them?” she said cautiously.
“The mayor and his brother—what’s the real deal with those two? My impression of Phillip Stone is mixed, but I’ve never even met Frank, though I may have seen him at the Bryant funeral with the mayor.”
Since it didn’t sound like a “small towns are screwed up and I’m trying to prove it” type of statement, she gave him her candid opinion.
“The mayor is vain and addicted to publicity, but tolerable aside from that. He’s decent as a public front, and reasonably okay with administrative issues, however much Viv dislikes him. He’s made some bad decisions, only they don’t seem to be from outright dishonesty. As for Frank…he’s another story. He’s smarter than Phillip, but I wouldn’t trust him with a paper clip.”
“Great recommendation for a police chief.”
“His title was always ‘Interim’ Police Chief. The mayor can appoint the position temporarily to meet a critical need, but after Henry’s odd accident and his retirement, Phillip announced that he’d appointed Frank and expected the City Council to confirm his choice. The council didn’t like it one bit.”
Ben looked startled. “What was odd about Henry’s accident? He’s never said a word.”
“I guess he didn’t want to worry you.” Kelly shivered, but not from the sharply falling temperature. There hadn’t been much left of Henry’s truck after the crash. She’d gone alone to the impound lot to retrieve his personal belongings for Gina, and the memory of twisted metal had given her nightmares for days. “It didn’t make sense. The tire blew, even though I know it wasn’t old. He’d replaced all four the year before. I’m sure there’s more to what happened, but he wouldn’t explain.”
Ben set his jaw the way his uncle did when confronted with a problem. “He’ll explain to me.”
Henry and Ben would be an interesting matchup. They were both tough, determined and obstinate as old mules. To think they called her stubborn.
“Anyway, the City Council let things cool for a while, then insisted a normal hiring process would have to be followed. If you hadn’t applied I think Frank would still have been selected, but they wanted to adhere to the official guidelines. The mayor fought it for several months and he still feels the choice of a police chief should have been his decision alone.”
“That’s obvious since he’s trying to get me fired.”
“Yeah, I knew he’d make your life miserable from the beginning.”
A grin flashed across Ben’s face. “That must have made you happy when we weren’t getting along.”
Kelly yawned and closed her eyes. “Who says we’re getting along now?”
BEN WANTED TO LAUGH AND growl at the same time. Kelly was the damnedest woman. He’d like to believe she’d started to have some faith in him, but that was by no means guaranteed, especially since he wasn’t finished with his questions.
“I, uh, also wanted to know more about the fight between Harvey Bryant and his wife that you witnessed at the Farmers Market.”
Her eyelids flew open again. “How do you know about that?”
“I spoke to Chris Palmer earlier today.”
“Why?”
“When you mentioned him earlier, I realized it might be a good idea to find out why he and Greg Jakobson actually left, and to see if they could tell me anything about Harvey or Simon. Chris brought up seeing the fight…while on a date with you.”
Kelly crossed her arms and glared.
Ben sighed. “Bryant and his wife had a public argument, bad enough that a police officer remembered it a year later. In light of the murder, I can’t let it go. Palmer said the argument was about lost keys and being late for dinner. Those are trivial reasons for a public screaming match.”
“It probably didn’t have anything to do with keys.” Kelly swung her feet to the deck and stood up. “Amy learned she couldn’t have any more children a few weeks before that argument. Harvey’s reputation as a hard-assed employer aside, he loved his kids and his wife. They were both upset they couldn’t have another baby, and I think they were fighting rather than dealing with how they felt.”
“How do you know all this?”
“Amy told me about the diagnosis when we were working together on last year’s festival, but please don’t ask her for the details. This is an awful time for her and the kids.”
Ben’s instincts urged him to verify the information. On the other hand, did a year-old marital spat warrant suspicion? He’d fought with his ex-wife and she was still walking around. And Amy Bryant had hardly seemed the murderous type during his brief meeting with her; hiring a professional killer took cold-blooded planning.
“Let’s say it’s that simple. Something could have happened since then to change the relationship. Do you believe Amy Bryant is capable of planning her husband’s death?”
“No,” Kelly said flatly. “Amy wouldn’t jaywalk, much less kill someone. I’m sure of it.”
Ben doubted he’d ever had that kind of belief in people. “Okay, I won’t talk to her about it unless I learn something else. You should go inside where it’s warm,” he said, noticing Kelly rubbing her arms. “I’ll be back later, but I want to talk to Henry about his accident. I don’t like what you said about it, or what I’ve heard about Frank Stone. None of this feels right.”
She frowned. “Ben, I’m probably just overreacting again. Accidents bother me.”
“You should be bothered—Henry’s one hell of a driver. His CIA background provided training we can only imagine, includi
ng handling anything that could happen in a car. I would have investigated if I’d realized more might be involved.”
Kelly paled and he wished he’d kept his mouth shut.
“Hey, we’ll figure it out. I could use your help tomorrow, by the way.”
“With what?”
“Can you and Viv get your hands on the applications that were submitted for the detective positions? I want to take a look at them.”
“I think so. Why?”
“Curiosity.”
“They say that’s what killed the cat, except they have nine lives to play around with,” Kelly said as she opened the slider.
“In Frodo’s case, it’ll be jealousy that uses all nine of them. I thought Maine coons were supposed to be pretty mellow.”
“So did I. He must be a throwback.”
Ben locked the sliding glass door and pulled the Charlie bar into place. He was becoming more and more uneasy about leaving Kelly alone, even for short periods.
“Do me a favor,” he said. “Stay in the house until I get back.”
After a moment, she nodded. “Okay. You’d better take these in case I’m in bed.” She handed him the key ring he’d used earlier.
At least she trusted him with her keys, but that wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things. It also meant she was still avoiding him.
AS BEN ARRIVED AT THE duplex, Toby came running out. “Poppa!” he cried happily.
“Have a good day, pal?” Ben swung his son into his arms.
“Uh-huh, ’cep Robin kissed me.” Toby made a face. “It was yucky. She says we haf to get married now, but I’m not gonna marry her. She’s mean.”
“Who is Robin?”
“A girl. Can I bring my ant farm to show-and-tell tomorrow?”
Since Toby didn’t seem worried about the “mean girl,” Ben left it alone. “Sure, I’ll ask Aunt Gina if she’ll drive you to school instead of taking the bus.”
“Okay.”
He wiggled, so Ben put him down.
“Hey,” Henry called. He was waxing his Chevy Blazer under the carport.
That was his uncle. Meticulous. Everything in order. He would have been appalled at the condition Ben’s predecessor had left the police department.
Ben automatically got a cloth and began rubbing the hood. The scent of the waxing compound rose in the air, warmed by the friction, and he remembered the times he’d helped his uncle on his summer visits. The circles life took were strange indeed. Never once in all the times he’d visited Sand Point did he think he’d end up living there.
Yet it wasn’t so bad. Once the murders were solved, it might even work out better than he’d expected.
“I wanted to know about your accident last year,” he said after several minutes.
Henry gave him a sideways glance. “Oh?”
“Kelly mentioned there was something odd about it.”
“She worries. So does Gina.”
“Do they have reason to worry?” Ben dipped his cloth into the can and spread wax down the side fender. “Kelly is levelheaded. I don’t see her going off the deep end with conspiracy theories like the editor of the Sand Point Gazette.”
“No, not Kelly.”
After another long silence Ben tossed the cloth on the roof of the Blazer. “So?”
Henry rested his forearms on the hood. “She’s right, it was questionable. I didn’t tell Kelly everything. She was upset, recalling the crash when her mother died, and I didn’t want to make it worse. But the pressure in the tires was well above normal—I don’t fill them nearly that high—and I could swear the steering went flaky after the tire blew. The wear pattern on the bad tire didn’t look right, either.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yup, but nothing could be proved. The garage went over the truck and didn’t find a problem, though with so much damage they could have missed something. I sure wasn’t in any shape to check it out myself.”
“I remember. You scared the crap out of me. Don’t do that again.”
His uncle chuckled. “I’ll do my best. Anyway, I read the report, examined the pictures my detectives snapped, and in the end I dismissed my suspicions, though I did ask them to leave the wreck in the impound lot. It should still be there—you don’t get to be an old fox by being careless. But when the dust settled I decided Gina was right about me retiring.”
“You earned it.”
“No, it was time. I was seeing shadows that didn’t exist.”
“Like hell. If you think there was something funky about that crash, then something was funky. I’m going to find out what it was.”
The fading smile on Henry’s face was replaced by concern. “Be careful. You’re suggesting that there’s more going on than a couple of murders. What about your theory that one or both of the killings are related to the strike?”
Ben watched a swirl of breeze pick up some leaves and carry them across the street. The movement was chaotic, but sometimes there was purpose in chaos—the same way there might be a dark purpose in everything that had happened, even before he’d become police chief.
“I’m not sure,” he admitted finally. “Kelly talked about misdirection earlier today. We were discussing the murders and how the mayor’s death threats mentioned her book Deep Sea. Those letters are what got everyone talking about the novel and the similarity in the murders.”
Henry’s brow creased in concentration. “You mean someone could have wanted to direct attention away from Harvey’s employees as suspects, making it look like the novel was copied.”
“Yeah…but what if the book and strike and Harvey’s murder are all misdirection? What if Simon was the real target? What better way to get attention off the death of a homeless man than to kill a rich, unpopular guy like Bryant?”
His uncle swore. “Everyone knew about Kelly’s friendship with Simon. And we know she wrote about him in her novel. But why would anyone want to kill Simon, and how would they find out she’s the author?”
“It’s just one theory among many. As for Kelly’s novel, secrets are hard to keep in a small town. We know somebody figured it out—they called an anonymous tip into the television station. I’m betting it’s the same person who was watching her house. I just don’t know why.”
“Damn. Keep an eye on her.”
“I plan to.”
“VIV, CAN YOU DO ME A FAVOR?” Kelly asked early the next morning, finding her friend in the media center.
“Sure, hon.”
Kelly stepped closer and lowered her voice. “I want to see the applications for the detective openings, but let’s keep it between us.” While Ben hadn’t asked her to keep the request confidential, it seemed a smart idea.
Viv patted her dramatically red hair. “I’ll go to the archives and bring ’em right to you.” She winked and marched off, an army of one in the battle against despised mayors and even more despised ex–interim police chiefs.
When the applications were delivered Kelly immediately called Ben. He arrived within minutes and stared at the foot-high stack on her otherwise immaculate desk.
“That’s all of them?”
“Well, except for the ones from Detectives Lasko and Fairmont—we’d have to pull their employee files.”
“I already have access to their files.” He prodded the stack. “I had no idea there’d be so many.”
She tried not to be annoyed. “What you mean is, why would so many police officers want to come to a small town?”
Ben kicked the door shut and dropped into a chair. “You have to stop assuming the worst about everything I say,” he said calmly. “Logically, I’m surprised there are so many applications. Sand Point is isolated and the starting pay isn’t great. Big cities can pay more.”
“You were probably making more money in Los Angeles,” Kelly admitted.
“But the cost of living was higher, too,” he said absently, flipping through the first application from the pile. “And thanks to Gina and Henry, I no longer have child care
costs. That’s huge. Financially I’m way ahead here.”
“But what about…” Her voice trailed off and he looked up.
“What about what?”
She shouldn’t ask; it wasn’t any of her concern. “Doesn’t Toby’s mother object to him being so far away?”
Ben shrugged. “Dawn’s second husband is wealthy and would rather not be reminded that she has a kid who isn’t his. She prefers it that way, too. I have full custody—she didn’t even want visitation.”
Kelly stared at Ben, appalled. The thought that anyone could turn their backs on a great boy like Toby was beyond comprehension. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s selfish and spoiled and totally lacking maternal instincts. She went looking for something better when she finally realized I meant it when I said I wasn’t interested in my parents’ money and wouldn’t ask them for a dime. Here, help me with these,” he said, separating the stack of applications.
“Help how? What are you trying to find?”
“I’m trying to decide if Frank Stone intentionally hired detectives who were less qualified than others.”
“What could he have to gain?”
“I don’t know. I’m just fishing for information. We’ll put them in three stacks—more qualified, less qualified and the same.”
They read for a half hour in silence, and as the “more qualified” stack grew, Kelly fought a rising tension. Why had Lasko and Fairmont been hired? The choices had been made by Frank, and endorsed by his brother. They’d said they needed “young” blood in the department, with fresh ideas and the latest training, but you couldn’t discount the value of experience. And they could easily have found a mixture of both with two positions to fill.
“What did Henry say about his accident?” she queried as she put the seventh application onto the “more qualified” pile.
“He agrees with you. It was odd.”
Kelly took the next application. The woman who’d applied was a veteran detective with an impressive record.