Murder in Plain Sight (2010)

by Perry, Marta

  “Are you sure of that?” She hated to ask, but—

  “Of course I’m sure!” The words exploded from him.

  “He bought it. She had it. If he didn’t…” She stopped, unable to finish the thought.

  “If he didn’t, then I must have?” He said it for her, acid lacing the words. “Nice to know you think so highly of me.” He spun and walked to the door, purpose in every determined line of his body.

  “What are you going to do?” Her heart throbbed with apprehension. Pain. Doubt.

  He paused, hand on the knob, and gave her a dark look. “I’m going to find Bobby. I’m going to look at this so-called evidence. And I’m going to find out the truth.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  TREY LEANED BACK IN the desk chair that had been his father’s and rubbed his eyes. Had he slept at all last night? It seemed unlikely, unless he’d dozed off in the chair while searching through Dad’s credit-card records.

  He’d been trying to reach Bobby since he’d left Jessica last night, with no success. Anger surged. Bobby should have come to him with this information, not Jessica. And where was he? By this time he ought to be in his office, but he wasn’t answering there, just as he hadn’t answered his cell or responded to the messages Trey had left.

  Trey clipped receipts together and returned them to a file folder. The anger he’d felt at Jessica had dwindled in the long hours of the night to sorrow and pain. Given Jessica’s background, it was already difficult for her to trust anyone, and he’d certainly given her no reason to believe she could rely on him. If he felt anger at anyone, it had to be himself. He’d handled this whole situation badly, and he didn’t see any way it was going to right itself without a lot of people getting hurt.

  The truth, Jessica had said. The only thing to do was find the truth. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the tension. Well, he’d spent the night looking for truth, and he hadn’t found anything even remotely suspicious anywhere in Dad’s records.

  Of course, Bobby would be the one with access to the business end of things. Bobby’s scrupulous care of financial records was an asset, since that sort of thing bored Trey to tears. If the vendor said the charge was on Dad’s card, Bobby would have checked the records. But there had to be an explanation.

  The tile pendant had been in the locked drawer of the desk since the night they’d talked about it. He took out the pendant and held it in his hand. Such an insignificant thing to be the cause of so much trouble.

  The phone rang, and he dropped the tile on the desk to snatch up the receiver. “Bobby?”

  An open line crackled, and then Bobby’s voice, sounding as if he was in a well. “…didn’t get back to you…couldn’t…”

  “You’re fading out. Where are you?”

  “…back from Pittsburgh…decided to talk to the dealer…”

  Excitement rippled through him. He pressed the receiver hard against his ear, as if that would make Bobby’s voice clearer. “What did you find out?”

  “…not what…meet me at the cabin…”

  “Did you say the cabin?” His voice was sharp. “Why?”

  “…almost there…something…” The connection faded away to nothing. Frustrated, he hung up, then tried Bobby’s cell again. Nothing.

  He shoved his chair back and stood. Bobby had sounded excited, and they couldn’t afford to ignore anything that might help to clear up this mess. Snatching his keys, he headed for the door.

  He reached it to find his mother coming in, the dog at her heels. He tried to arrange his face in an expression that wouldn’t arouse her instinct for trouble.

  “It’s a beautiful day.” She kissed his cheek. “The kind of day when anything seems possible.”

  That was certainly the kind of day he needed. “I have to go out for a while, Mom.”

  “Without your breakfast?” Her hand on his arm stopped him. “Surely you have time—”

  “I’ll grab something later. I’m running out to the cabin to meet Bobby. He claims to have found something that might help Thomas’s case.”

  “He has? That’s wonderful.” Hope bloomed in her eyes. “What is it?”

  “I won’t know that until I get there.” He detached her hand. “I have to go.”

  “Take Sam with you.” At the sound of his name, Sam stood, tail waving. “You know how he loves to ride in the truck.”

  As always with his mother, it was faster to agree than to argue. He patted his leg. “Come on, Sammy boy.”

  The dog trotted alongside him, giving an excited woof when he saw they were headed for the truck. Trey had to help him up to the high seat, but there he settled happily, head out the window, breeze ruffling his fur.

  Trey swung onto the main road with a squeal of the tires. This was probably a wild-goose chase, but it was better than concentrating on his regrets. He’d have plenty of time to do that.

  No matter how this turned out, Jessica would go away, eager to see the last of him. He couldn’t blame her for that. He just wished…well, he didn’t know what he wished. No point in longing for the impossible, was there?

  Twenty minutes later he pulled into the narrow lane that led to the cabin. Branches brushed the sides of the truck, and Sam drew his head in, looking at Trey reproachfully.

  “You can do it on the way back,” Trey assured him.

  The brush thinned out, and there was the cabin, with Bobby’s car backed up to the porch. Trey pulled up next to it and forestalled Sam’s move to get out with a hand motion.

  “Stay, boy. Stay.” No point in letting the poor old guy go through the ordeal of getting down and up again.

  The cabin was quiet. Too quiet. Why hadn’t Bobby come out to meet him? He must have heard the truck.

  The porch boards creaked as he stepped on them. He moved toward the door, apprehension lifting the hairs on the back of his neck.

  “Bobby?” He opened the door. “You here?”

  He stepped inside. Something moved, beside and behind him. Before he could turn, pain crashed into the side of his head, exploding in a display of sparks. Blackness.

  “JESSICA, WHAT IS IT?” Leo stood when she walked into the office, concern filling his face. “You look as if you’ve lost your last friend.”

  She felt as if she had, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. “I’ve just come from seeing Thomas.” She touched the still-tender bruise around her eye. “I thought I looked bad, but Thomas is ten times worse. One of the other prisoners got at him.”

  Leo let out a wordless exclamation. “Is he all right? How could that happen?”

  “He’s been seen by a doctor, and they’ve moved him into a cell away from the other prisoners. They say they’re taking every precaution, but…” She let that trail off, the weight of responsibility hanging on her. “That poor boy. He wouldn’t lift a hand to defend himself. I have to find a way to clear him.”

  “I know.” He clasped her hand briefly. “We’re doing the best we can.”

  A spurt of gratitude went through her at Leo aligning himself with her. Would he still feel that way when she’d told him?

  She took a breath, steadying herself. “There’s something I have to tell you. I don’t know how you’ll feel about it, or if it’s something we can use, but I’ve reached the point that my mind is going in circles, and I need your opinion.”

  “Of course. You know I’m here for you.”

  Leo had known her a matter of weeks, but he was here for her. The gratitude deepened.

  “Bobby managed to trace the pendant. He found that it had been purchased nearly two years ago from a dealer in Pittsburgh. The credit card used to pay for it was a business card belonging to Trey’s father.” She rubbed her temples, trying to wipe away the pain. “You see how it looks. If Trey’s father gave the pendant to Cherry—”

  “He wouldn’t.” Leo sounded sure. “Jessica, I knew the man all my life. I know what he was capable of, and believe me, he couldn’t have been involved with that girl.”


  “That’s what Trey said, too. But if he didn’t give it to her, then who did?”

  Leo frowned. “Wait a minute. Didn’t that friend of hers, the McGowan woman, say that she had received it fairly recently, and from a boyfriend she was keeping secret?”

  Jessica struggled to recall that conversation. So much had happened since then. “That was certainly the implication she gave,” she said slowly. “But if Trey’s father bought the thing, how did someone else get it to give to her? It could only…” She stopped.

  “Be Trey?” Leo finished for her. “That’s what you’re really worrying about, isn’t it? That’s what’s clouding your judgment.”

  “I suppose it is.” Leo was right. Her mind had been spinning in useless circles because of her fear that Trey had been involved.

  Leo gripped her hands firmly. “Stop and think. If the person who gave Cherry that pendant is the same person who left the threatening note for you, the person who ran you off the road, the person who killed her…can you seriously tell me you think Trey is capable of that?”

  “No.” Her heart answered without any doubt at all. “No, he’s not. But maybe…”

  “Maybe what? Someone killed Cherry and left that symbol behind, so subtle that it almost wasn’t spotted. I find it hard to believe that it’s not the same person who gave her the pendant. The long arm of coincidence just won’t reach that far.”

  “You’re right. Of course you’re right.” She shook her head, shaking off the negative thoughts that had been paralyzing her. “So someone else had to have access to that pendant.”

  Leo frowned, leaning back in his chair, fingertips drumming on the desk. “You said that Bobby came to you with the evidence. When was that?”

  “Yesterday afternoon.”

  “After the television interview ran.”

  “Yes. Why? What connection could that have?”

  “I’m not sure, but… Did you actually see the record of that sale?”

  She shook her head. “Bobby just told me about it.” What kind of lawyer was she, anyway? Why hadn’t she asked to see the material for herself?

  Because she was emotionally involved, that was why.

  “So it all depends on Bobby’s word,” Leo said slowly, as if he were turning it over in his mind. “Bobby handled all the financial records for Trey’s father, just as he does for Trey.”

  “You think Bobby…?” Quiet, unassuming Bobby, with his dogged devotion to Trey—how could that be?

  “I’m not accusing anyone,” Leo said. “But I think we ought to have a second check on this.” He picked up the phone. “Let me give Trey a call. See if we can get access to those business-card receipts. Then we can move forward from there.”

  It was what she should have done, if she hadn’t been so tied up in knots over her feelings for Trey. She could hear Leo’s voice, talking to Geneva, apparently, but it was Trey’s face that filled her mind. Even if nothing could come of the feelings she had for him, she had to admit them to herself.

  There was a click as Leo hung up the phone. She looked at him, to find him staring back at her, his face so devoid of any expression that it shocked her. “What is it?”

  “Geneva says Trey’s not there. He had a call from Bobby. He’s gone to the cabin to meet him.”

  Fear gripped her heart—instinctive, primal fear. She bolted from her chair. “We have to go there. If Bobby—”

  She didn’t finish the thought. She didn’t have to. Leo was close behind her as she rushed to the door.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  TREY’S HEAD THROBBED. He sagged forward, something cutting into his wrists. He fought to open his eyes, but his eyelids refused to cooperate. It was a dream, a nightmare…

  He jerked his head back, earning a fresh stab of pain. A nightmare, maybe, but only too real. He forced his eyes to open, attempted to focus.

  The cabin. He was at the cabin. He’d come…The darkness threatened to sweep over him again, and he beat it back. He’d come to meet Bobby. When he walked in the door, something hit him.

  Not something. His mind worked sluggishly, like the truck’s motor on a below-zero morning. Someone.

  Bobby. Bobby had been waiting for him.

  He struggled against the realization. Bobby couldn’t have, wouldn’t have—

  The door opened, letting in a shaft of light that hurt his eyes. Bobby walked in, carrying a metal gas can in each hand. Trey couldn’t argue with himself about it, not when the truth was in front of him.

  “Bobby.” His voice came out in a harsh croak. No point in asking what he was doing. That was only too obvious. “What—why are you doing this?”

  Bobby didn’t answer. He busied himself with the gas cans, setting one on one side of the room, the other opposite it, in the precise, fussy manner that kept everything he touched in perfect order. Then he straightened and looked at Trey.

  “Poor Trey. He asked me to meet him at the cabin where his father committed suicide. But when I got there, the place was already on fire. I could see him, slumped over. I tried to reach him. Maybe I even got some burns on my hands.” He held his hands up, inspecting them. “But I was too late. He’d killed himself, just like his father.”

  Bobby looked the same. That was the thing that turned Trey’s stomach. He looked like the same Bobby they’d all taken for granted for the past fifteen years. That mild facade—Trey could see now what it hid. Hatred.

  “Except that my father didn’t commit suicide, did he?” The truth seemed clear now, when it was too late. “That never made sense to me. You killed him. Why? Did he catch you cooking the books?”

  It was a shot at random, but he saw the truth flare in Bobby’s face. “He made it almost too easy. You and your father were so trusting. ‘Bobby will take care of all the dull, boring, financial stuff.’ Too bad he got suspicious. It really was the cancer that killed him, you know. Because of that, he suddenly decided he had to get his financial house in order—started looking through the books and stumbled on my little deception.”

  “So you killed him.” Bile came up in Trey’s throat. “He wouldn’t have sent you to jail. He wasn’t like that.”

  “Oh, no. He told me that, in such a pitying way. He was being magnanimous, letting me go quietly, promising never to tell anyone.” Bobby’s mouth twisted. “That was thoughtful of him. Made it easy to arrange his suicide.”

  “I thought we were friends.” Trey twisted his hands, trying to loosen the knots. He couldn’t just sit here and let Bobby kill him. He had to fight.

  “Friends?” Bobby’s eyebrows lifted. “Because the golden boy who had everything condescended to stop his little buddies from bullying me? That made a nice story, didn’t it? I could see Jessica just lapping it up.”

  Jessica. Pain lanced Trey’s heart. He was never going to see her again, never have a chance to tell her what he felt for her…

  “I don’t get it. Why did you do all those things to chase her away? You were the one who brought her here.”

  “Only because your mother insisted. I told Henderson we didn’t need his high-powered talent—just some lowly young attorney who could plead the case out quickly. He sent Jessica. Who would have guessed she’d turn out to be such a fighter? I’ll be doing something about that, you realize.”

  Bobby turned away, walked to the closest gas can and unscrewed the top. With a swing of his arm, he began splashing the gas across the floor—over the rag rug, on the wooden planks that would burn so easily…

  The acrid scent filled Trey’s nostrils, choking him. From outside, he could hear Sam start barking. He must smell it, too. Someone might hear him, might come. But the Miller place was the closest house, and it was nearly a mile away.

  “You couldn’t resist leaving your signature, could you?” The ropes were loosening, Trey could feel it. Say something, anything, to buy a little time. “That raven symbol. What was the idea behind it?”

  “Don’t talk about that!” Fear flashed in Bobby’s eyes, jerke
d his hand so that the gasoline spilled on his shoe. “Never mention that.” He gave a furtive glance over his shoulder at the open door. “I shouldn’t have done that. They wouldn’t like it.”

  “They?”

  “The brotherhood,” Bobby’s voice dropped to a whisper. “They mustn’t know.”

  Fear trickled down Trey’s spine. The brotherhood, an organization that had been dust for two hundred years? Bobby was crazy. That was the only answer.

  “Was that why you killed Cherry? Because she knew about the raven?”

  Bobby picked up the second can, splashing the gas on the other side of the room, over the table where Trey’s father died. Trey jerked at the ropes, fighting them.

  “She was too greedy. She thought she could use the things I told her against me. So she had to go.” Bobby looked at him then, dropping the empty gas can on the floor. “Like you.” He pulled a gun from his pocket, shifted it to the other hand, fumbled with a box of matches. “Goodbye, Trey.”

  JESSICA’S CAR BOUNCED OVER the ruts in the lane. Please, please, let us be in time.

  They burst into the clearing, and Jessica hit the brakes to keep from running into Trey’s truck. Sam was in the front seat, lunging at the window, barking furiously. Beyond the vehicle, the cabin door gaped open.

  Bobby stood in the doorway, his back to them. Her heart stopped. He held a gun. He lifted it, aimed, she couldn’t be in time, she couldn’t—

  She shoved the car door open, raced the few steps to the truck and yanked its door wide. Sam exploded from the front seat. As she ran after him she could hear Leo shouting into his cell phone, could see Trey beyond Bobby in the cabin, tied and helpless, the gun—

  Sam flew into Bobby, snarling. Bobby fell, the gun going off. A small flame arced through the air. It hit the floor, flames blossoming in its wake.

  Trey—she had to get to Trey. She plunged into the cabin, feeling heat already from the flames. The whole place would go up, Trey with it. She had to get him out. She veered around man and dog, stumbling, nearly falling, surging forward.