Including her neighbor Phil Xavier?
He’d get to that, but he had another destination first.
“Doesn’t eliminate her. But it’s true it’s not only who you gave the key to, it’s the spread of possibilities beyond that, including making a copy. It’s like tracking a disease. Who the patient’s been in contact with. Because any of those people are possibilities, too.”
“But to look at every person as a possible murderer… It’s horrible.”
Belichek looked back at her as he’d learned to do. It wasn’t the first time someone had looked at him that way. Wouldn’t be the last. It sure as hell couldn’t come between him and finding out what happened.
Until he did, she was in danger — of being killed or of being accused of murder.
The community was in danger — the one he’d sworn to protect and serve.
And another oath he’d sworn — only to himself, but no less binding — was in danger.
“Every person is a possible murderer.” He said it without affect, driving home the horror, trying to pop the bubble of optimism she operated in. And then he drove it home. “Start with Carl Arbendroth. He had a key? Why’d you break up? Was he jealous? Abusive? Controlling?”
“No, no. It wasn’t like that.”
“What was it like?”
“He wanted more than I could give him.”
“How serious was it with this guy?” Maggie asked.
“It wasn’t like that, either. But… He wanted to explore if it could be. To do that, he wanted more of my time, my attention. He… he wanted me to back away from the foundation.”
“So the guy had at least one good idea,” Maggie muttered.
Jamie gave her cousin a less than sunshine-filled look.
She and Maggie did tie each other in knots. Belichek wondered how Ally, the third cousin, fit in.
“You broke up or he did?” He kept it neutral.
She dragged her metaphorical feet through two extra beats before saying, “I did.”
“How did he react?”
“He understood.”
“Right away?”
“It’s hard for people to accept change. And it makes sense, with him being in a position in his life when he was ready to settle down, that he’d be disappointed.”
“That would be a no — he did not understand,” Maggie said. “Especially not right away.”
Silence.
“Is that assessment correct, Jamie?” Belichek asked.
“I suppose. But just because it took him a while—”
“How long?”
She waved one hand, possibly intending it to be airy. Irked was the word that came to mind. “I didn’t keep track.”
“But you must have noticed behavior that let you recognize that he did not understand — or accept — your breaking up with him for a while. What were those behaviors, Jamie?”
Her eyes sharpened. “You talked to Hendrickson and the others at the foundation, didn’t you?”
“Say I did talk to them, what would I have heard?”
CHAPTER FORTY
“You have to put them in context. Hendrickson is old-fashioned. And he still sees me as a girl, so he’s naturally protective. So is Celeste, but that’s because of her cautious nature. Which has served the foundation wonderfully, because she watches out for every possible problem, heads off most of them and is prepared for the ones that get through. And Adam Delattre is completely loyal to the foundation.”
“Okay, you’ve given the context. Now, what would they say about Carl Arbendroth?”
“Whatever they said doesn’t mean—”
Carson leaned forward. “You do know you’re making it worse by putting off answering. What would they say?”
She looked only at him. “They’d say he called fifty times a day, texted more, showed up at the office, and came to the restaurant where we were having a staff lunch.”
Belichek and Maggie glanced at each other, but Carson and Jamie didn’t break eye contact. “How many times did he show up at your office.”
“Four… No, five times.”
“Did he ever put hands on you?”
“Not like—”
“Did he ever put hands on you?”
“It wasn’t— He had my elbow. Wanted me to go with him to talk. Adam pushed him, he lost his balance. The restaurant — the foundation staff goes there regularly — asked him to leave.”
Carson straightened from his lean, nodding at her.
Belichek slid in, “When did this happen?”
Jamie shifted her gaze to him, gave a little shift of her shoulders as if shaking off something — like the inclination to avoid answering him again.
“The week before I left.”
“Heard from him since?”
She brightened. “No. No calls, no texts, no sightings.”
Belichek waited.
Right on time, Maggie huffed.
Jamie shifted her focus to her cousin. “What?”
“Sudden backing off. I see you thinking it’s a good sign. It’s often not. Can be a signal of planning something … bigger.”
* * * *
“That was good. You’re good with witnesses,” Maggie told J.D. as she took makings for a marinade out of his fridge.
He already had the steaks out for tonight’s dinner. Once again, Jamie had gone upstairs and Belichek out on the front porch. Like boxers retiring to their corners.
“Maybe. Belichek laid the foundation.”
“She resisted him.”
“What’re you thinking, Maggie.”
“Hmm? It was … interesting watching Bel in action.” She went silent for a moment. “God, I always knew he was methodical and that’s how he produces such good police work, but to listen to him questioning her…” She dragged one hand through her hair.
“Because of how he questions? Or because it’s Jamie answering?”
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Contemplated for a moment. “Both.”
He kissed her hard.
His mouth nearly touching hers, he said, “You know he’s getting a lot more out of her than you would.”
She put a hand on his chest as if to push him away, but didn’t. “Hey.”
“You’d attack and she’d retreat. He’s more neutral.” He pushed back a sweep of hair from the side of her face. “It’s giving her the room to see her bias.”
“Giving her the room?” She snorted. “He’s forcing her to see it.”
“That makes you uncomfortable? When, if you were doing the questioning, you’d hit her with it straight between the eyes.”
“Don’t start asking me questions meant to make me see things and not just get information. Bel does that all the time. Fine. Yes. She’s used to blocking out when I point out that her Everything Is Sunshine and Lollipops mode can expose her to dangerous people and situations. And — in this case — Bel’s approach is more effective in getting in under her defenses. Is that what you wanted to hear from me?”
“Only because I love it when you talk dirty.”
“Don’t start what we can’t finish, Carson.”
“We can finish—”
“No, we can’t because Belichek won’t give us time. I know the man.”
* * * *
On the porch, Belichek scrolled through his calls and messages.
A couple things on other cases that could wait. One email from a prosecutor about a case coming up in December. He answered that. The rest from Landis.
Mostly asking where he was.
But one was interesting.
Confirmed PX’s Delaware efforts. Nastier than reported.
He looked out to the tree tops.
They couldn’t hold out here much longer.
He’d meant what he’d said about snatching Jamie. But the intervening hours persuaded him it wouldn’t work. She wouldn’t let it work.
And before they left here, he had something he needed to do.
He wasn’t looking forward t
o it.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Before Belichek could restart his questions, Maggie had one. “Bel, you said someone entered her house with no sign of forced entry. Could whoever was shot have come with the killer?”
“Could have, yes. It’s a little neater that way, too, because the alternative is one person got into the house with no sign of forced entry, then let someone else in. And that second arrival could be someone who knew or didn’t know the first arrival was there.”
“Or knew-slash-didn’t know Jamie had left and this other person in the house wasn’t her.”
“That’s it. A lot more variables than if the victim and the killer arrived together.”
“But why in my house?”
“That’s a real interesting question,” Carson said.
“Not until we have an answer to it,” Maggie said. “And to get to that answer, we need answers to the ones leading up to that, which are the questions Belichek’s been asking.”
* * * *
Landis ordered Terrington to revise his report on his trip to the foundation to include more detail. That was on top of his background checks on the foundation employees and the two volunteers who’d been there on Jamison Chancellor’s last day.
Now, here Terrington was back, sitting on the chair beside Landis’ desk, without the rewritten report, with a theory.
“Celeste Renfro has a financial motive. She’s got major debt. She’s carrying a big mortgage on that new house she bought,” Terrington said.
“Who doesn’t have a big mortgage around here?”
Ignoring that aside from Jenkins, Landis asked, “Is it in default?”
“No.”
“Underwater?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does she have other debts — loans, credit cards — anything repossessed?”
“I don’t know.”
“Find out.”
God, he missed Belichek.
He stopped short of wishing he was back here this instant.
Said a lot for his generosity of spirit and their friendship that, even to avoid being saddled with Terrington, Landis wasn’t wishing away Belichek getting laid.
Sure, wishing wouldn’t get him Belichek back and get rid of Terrington, but it was the thought that counted.
As Terrington stood, his expression sulky, Landis added, “How would Celeste Renfro benefit financially from Jamison Chancellor’s death?”
It caught the younger man by surprise. The other questions he knew — at least at some level — he should have had answers to before approaching Landis, but he’d rushed it in his desperation to have an impact.
But this aspect had not occurred to him.
“Uh, maybe she could have moved up in the foundation. Better pay. Maybe more prestige.”
Landis examined it, turning it over, mentally visualizing the facets. “It’s something to look into. Now, go get those facts.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Belichek had covered additional ground looking for what Jamie insisted didn’t exist — an enemy.
They covered the foundation’s financials. Top-rated.
Hers. Solid.
Previous boyfriends with a grudge. None.
Rivals for Arbendroth’s affections. Nonexistent.
Disenchanted donors. Few ever stopped donating.
Disappointed applicants for help. Those rejected were helped to find better suited resources, never cut loose.
When Jamie’s yawns made her responses jagged, Carson said it was time for dinner.
None of them talked much during the excellent grilled steaks and salad, but as they finished ice cream-topped brownies, Jamie said to Belichek, “I presume your goading me today stemmed from wanting to make me mad enough to fight. But I don’t do that.”
He looked back at her without saying anything as he took another bite of ice cream and brownie.
“You have to trust people,” she said.
Maggie grimaced, but Belichek was the one who answered.
“You can’t trust people. People lie all the time.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re murderers. People have … secrets. Wounds they don’t want revealed to the air.”
“It’s my job to expose all those secrets. Because for one of them the secret could have led to murder.”
“You focus entirely on the bad things. That must be so hard on you.”
One side of his mouth lifted. “That’s pretty much the job description of a homicide detective. Find a bad situation, sort through the bad things surrounding it, and find the bad guy.”
Maggie’s gaze followed Jamie as she rinsed her dish and put it in the dishwasher.
“I’m going to bed now. I’m very tired.”
“I’ll be up soon,” Maggie said.
They’d decided earlier the two cousins would take the only bed in the place, the large one in the loft. J.D. had said he could sort out something for him and Belichek down here.
“Jamie.”
At his single word, she stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned back to him.
“I wasn’t trying to get you mad enough to fight. I was trying to get answers to my questions.”
* * * *
Jamie was in bed, but not asleep when Maggie came up.
Shortly, her cousin came out of the bathroom in one of J.D.’s t-shirts.
Jamie almost grinned at her suspicion that Maggie didn’t pack a nightgown when she visited here.
As Maggie put away her clothes, Jamie asked, “Why do you call him Belichek instead of Ford?”
She hitched one shoulder. “Just what I call him. Like Landis instead of Tanner. And they mostly call me Frye or Mags. Besides, his real first name is Rutherford. How’s that for a mouthful?”
Jamie managed a smile, but something tugged at her. “Maggie?”
Maggie got into the other side of the large bed. “Go to sleep, Jamie. Goodnight.”
She turned her back and pulled the covers up over her shoulder.
Before Jamie could move, she rolled back.
“We’re going to figure this out,” she said fiercely. “Nothing’s going to happen to you. Understood?”
Tears came into Jamie’s eyes, but her voice was firm. “Understood.”
“Okay.” Maggie turned away again.
Jamie slid down into the bed.
Something still tugged at her, but she couldn’t identify it.
It didn’t tug long. She fell asleep, fast, but not deep.
* * * *
Belichek asked his host, with every expectation of a positive response, “You got anything that will mask where a text is coming from?”
“Which phone number it came from or where the phone was located when the text was sent?”
“The latter.”
“Yeah. Write it as an email—” He tipped his head toward the computer. “—give me the recipient’s number and I’ll send it.”
Bel thought a moment before he wrote to Landis:
Interesting on PX. If whereabouts of BU from Sunshine Foundation not pinned down, follow up. Hard.
He thought about the truck, the description, the plate number he’d memorized. But if he gave that to Landis, they’d be on the truck fast. Once they found it near Jamie’s house and realized he’d been the source of the push, they’d track him down like the fox in a hunt, demanding to know what he knew, how he knew it, and a lot more.
He could handle that and its consequences, but that would end his time to question Jamie and to keep her safe.
DAY FIVE
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
“Aren’t you hungry, Detective Belichek?”
“No. Let’s talk about Hendrickson York.”
“He couldn’t possibly have anything to do with this. And I am hungry. How about breakfast? It looks like J.D. left everything out— Where are he and Maggie?”
“Walk. Let you sleep in. Food after we finish this. How is Hendrickson to work with for the others at Sunshine Foundation?”<
br />
“Endearingly frustrating.”
“Frustrating?”
“He is so absorbed in the foundation sometimes he forgets the practicalities, like sleeping or eating.” She cast a significant look toward the kitchen.
“Anybody find him more frustrating and less endearing than you do?”
She tilted her head and her gaze sharpened. “I suppose some.”
“Would you say he and Adam Delattre are in sync?”
She blinked twice. “They’re very different people, from different generations, with different interests.”
“Yes or no.”
“Not especially.”
“Hendrickson and Celeste Renfro?”
“Not especially. But what you’re missing is each of them cares deeply about the foundation and—”
“It would be safe to say nobody cares more about him than you.”
“I can’t presume to delve into anyone else’s heart and compare the results that answering that would require, Detective.”
“No. You accept them at face value. Do you always look at the bright side?”
“I try to.” She sighed. “Go ahead. Call me a Pollyanna. It’s not the least bit original, but go ahead and get it off your chest.” That was a little too tart to be nice.
He seemed to bring that out in her.
Or the circumstances did.
“You don’t think you deserve the title?”
“I recognize my good fortune, not only my misfortunes.”
“Your father died when you were a kid.”
“That hurt, I wouldn’t ever say different, but my mother found a wonderful man. A man who loves her and has been as good a stepfather as anyone could wish for. How can I not see how lucky I am?”
“Lucky? Is that what you call having an aunt you adored murdered?”
The skin over her cheekbones tightened until he thought it looked translucent. He refused to be sorry. If this is what it took to wake her up, that’s the way it went.
“Even … even from that, some good has come. The Sunshine Foundation has helped people, many people.”
“I wouldn’t consider that a good trade-off for my aunt’s life.”
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