Price of Innocence

by Patricia McLinn

  “A secret.” More curses followed that mutter.

  “Started to take her to Mags’, but she wasn’t at her place. She was up in the mountains with J.D. Carson. I drove Jamie there.”

  “Jesus, Belichek, you’ve lost your mind. This is about reading those journals and—”

  “No. It’s about keeping her alive and solving a murder.”

  His partner wasn’t with him on this. Not yet. Maybe never.

  He’d deal with that as he had to.

  Landis continued, “We’ve got to go get her. Right now. Bring her in. Hope to God nobody notices the gap and—”

  “She’s not at Carson’s anymore. She’s at her parents’ in Fredericksburg. Carson and Mags drove her.”

  “We’ve got to get her. Now. My car. And—”

  “You can still stay out of this, Tanner. I’ll take—”

  “The hell I can. I’m lead. And I know now. We need to figure out how to handle this with the glass offices — fast.”

  “We can’t assure her or her family that we can keep her alive if we do that. Not with that leak.”

  Like taking a pot off a burner, that simmered down Landis’ boil immediately. This string of curses was thoughtful.

  “We’ve got to get her,” he said. “Maybe she was the target. But maybe not. Either way, you’re going to tell me every word she’s said to you on the way.”

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Landis had Belichek drive so he could keep up with texts and phone calls, which regularly interrupted Belichek’s report of his questioning of Jamie.

  “I can’t believe Frye went along with this. Hard-assed Margaret Frye, who—”

  “Wants to keep her cousin alive, now that she’s back from the dead.”

  Landis grunted. “Weak alibi, being alone at a cabin, nobody saw her, no communication the whole time. And the idea that she hadn’t heard anything about this… Definitely weak.”

  Belichek didn’t respond to that. Landis wasn’t wrong. But he was goading him, trying to get a rise out of him, which would prove he wasn’t being reasonable.

  Because Landis wasn’t anywhere near ready to sign on to this.

  Belichek wasn’t going to wait around if his partner didn’t get on board. “What about Bethany Usher?”

  Landis swore again. “If I’d known how she fit in, instead of some vague text from the oracle, I’d never have given the assignment to Terrington.”

  “As long as he doesn’t know the context—”

  “Which he doesn’t because I didn’t, damn you. She’s a fairly recent hire at Sunshine Foundation. Last spring, I think. Not part of the inner circle. Said she wanted this time off and Jamison Chancellor said she could have it — paid — even though she didn’t have anywhere near that much vacation time in the bank.”

  Landis used his phone like a big finger to point at him.

  “And that raises a question that didn’t matter so much when Jamison Chancellor was dead, but sure as hell does now. Why would she? Give this new hire time off. But if she wanted Bethany Usher to take her place for some reason, if she knew that shotgun was out to get her, or—”

  “No way. You don’t know Jamie.”

  “And you do? Since when? Since reading her journals or since seeing her in the flesh.” He emphasized that last word.

  “Ask Maggie.”

  “Right. Like even Mags could be cut and dried about her own cousin. God, I’m the only sane one left.”

  “What else on Bethany Usher?”

  “We weren’t exactly blitzing her. Tried calling. Phone’s not working. Like the SIM card’s out.”

  “Does she match physically with the victim?”

  Landis’ mouth jerked. “Close enough. Terrington’s not imaginative, but he did get the driver’s license info. Same height, close to the same weight. Hair color similar.”

  “DNA?”

  “Not yet. We’ll push that, along with medical — assuming her records weren’t burned, too. That would fit the rest of this damned case. Dental’s still a long shot because of the damage, but we’ll try that, too.”

  “We do have more answers than we did, including the purse issue.”

  Landis evil-eyed him. “Great. We’ve got Jamison Chancellor’s purse, but not Bethany Usher’s now. That’s a draw at best.”

  Navigation announced their arrival.

  “Take a breath, Landis. Remember her parents didn’t know anything about this. They’ve had their daughter returned from the dead. And taking her to the mountains … that was all me.”

  “Fuck you,” Landis muttered. But he did take a breath.

  * * * *

  Belichek watched Landis’ handling of the Chancellor family, particularly Jamie’s parents, with appreciation.

  Jamie did not seem as impressed. She sat between her parents on the long couch, her father’s arm around her shoulders, her mother holding both Jamie’s hands in her lap.

  Maggie was mostly silent, Carson completely so. Belichek matched Carson.

  With reluctance, but recognition of the wisdom of it, the senior Chancellors agreed to keep Jamie’s survival a secret, even from her siblings.

  For now.

  With full dark, they’d pull Belichek’s vehicle into the garage and put Jamie in it then. Belichek was relieved, but not surprised, that Carson had used a similar maneuver to get her from his truck into the house.

  The one danger point came when her mother said — with tears in her voice — that they’d only had a couple hours together and Jamie objected to returning immediately to Fairlington.

  “I can arrest you as a material witness,” Landis said.

  Jamie’s gaze went to Belichek. Then, as if she realized what she’d done, she shifted it to Maggie.

  “He can,” her cousin confirmed. “But he won’t.”

  “Unless I have to.” Landis relented enough to add, directing it to her parents, “For her own safety and to find out who shot a woman, most likely thinking it was your daughter.”

  Dana Chancellor sucked in a breath.

  Wes Chancellor extended the arm he had around his daughter to touch his wife’s shoulder.

  She nodded. “We have to be realistic.” She looked at Jamie. “You need to be realistic.”

  “It’s okay, Mom. Don’t worry about anything. This is all a mistake.”

  * * * *

  A hurried conference while Jamie said good-bye to her parents determined that she would ride with him and Landis, but Carson and Mags would follow in Carson’s truck. They also decided on a specific destination.

  Landis wasn’t happy, but he’d live with it. For now.

  There was a lot of that for now going around.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  “You missed the turn to my house.”

  Jaimie’s first words since long hugs with her parents.

  Landis had taken back the driver’s wheel, though he had Belichek check messages and a few dictated responses, both screened for what they let Jamie hear.

  Now, his glance put the job of responding on Belichek.

  Without turning around from the passenger seat, he said, “You can’t go there. Don’t want to risk it.”

  “People don’t even know I’m alive.”

  Before Belichek could respond to her pointed tone that preserving that state was his goal, Landis said coolly, “Not your life, our careers.”

  She digested that in silence for a moment. “I should have realized… You didn’t tell your superiors about going to the cabin with me?”

  Not only not pointed, but she made it sound like a Sunday picnic that had been her idea.

  “No.”

  “You didn’t tell them I’m alive?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s a leak. Not risking your safety.”

  “And he was taken off the case,” Landis said.

  “Off … But … You lied? When Maggie said that I thought it was harsh but—”

  “I didn’t lie. I tol
d you I was investigating your case. I was. I am.”

  “Will they put you back on the case because you have me as your star witness?”

  He cut a look at her via the rearview mirror in the illumination from another vehicle’s headlights, but she was looking out the side window. “Probably.”

  “Shit,” Landis said.

  Belichek caught the motion of Jamie’s jump in the rearview mirror. He couldn’t swear he didn’t jump, too. “What?”

  “My car’s still back at the restaurant.” He stopped at a yellow light and pounded numbers into his phone. “Schmidt? It’s Detective Landis. Yeah. Remember you saying if there was any way you could help on the case? It’s not what you’re hoping for, but I need my car brought to me… Yeah. Get somebody to drive you out, then bring it to me. I’ll text where it is and where to bring it. There’s a key fob in my desk, second drawer, right side, under the napkins.”

  He ended the call.

  “You’re going to take advantage of that kid that way?”

  “Hell, yes. It’s all in service of the case.”

  * * * *

  Jamie shook off her lethargy as they turned into a warren of winding streets with individual homes, apartment buildings, town homes, all in red brick. They shared a certain pared-down colonial feel of a college campus or Army post where everything was built at the same time.

  Jamie knew of this area. The times she’d been here, she always got lost.

  She hoped the same happened to Landis now. Maybe that would give her a chance to restore those protective layers Belichek stripped away. Seeing her parents had helped.

  But not enough. Not nearly enough.

  Without needing directions, Landis made four turns, then pulled into an empty parking spot in the middle of three town homes.

  J.D. pulled in next to them. Maggie had the passenger window down and gestured to Landis to lower his driver’s window.

  “Bel, even I don’t have that black a thumb.”

  Jamie turned, seeing her cousin focused on the left end of the building. In a brick-enclosed planter at the door, a single blighted evergreen survived amid late season die-back.

  “You still win that prize, Mags,” he said easily. Almost everything between him and Maggie was easy. Comfortable. Secure. Familiar.

  “Stay here,” he ordered. “I want to check first.”

  He went up the sidewalk to the right end of the building, unlocked the door, checked inside before emerging and nodding to them.

  “This is where you live?” Maggie asked, when they entered.

  “It’s nice,” Jamie said. Warm light showed a long couch, a couple upholstered chairs. Behind them, a table and chair for dining. To the right of that a kitchen at the back.

  “It is,” Maggie said.

  “They’re surprised, in case you can’t tell, Belichek,” Landis said. “They expected a rundown bachelor pad.”

  “Go, on downstairs,” Belichek said. “I’ll bring food down—”

  J.D. interrupted. “Thought I’d go get takeout. The chicken place by the entry to here any good?”

  “Great,” Belichek said.

  “Passable,” Landis said.

  Jamie felt a smile tug her mouth.

  Landis added, “But none for me. I’m going to the office, since one of us is still working.”

  “Before you go, Detective Landis,” Jamie said, “in the car, you said doing this was risking your careers.”

  “That’s not—”

  Looking at Jamie, not Belichek, Landis said, “It’s true. And don’t let him tell you otherwise. So you better be worth it, because it’s his career.”

  “Landis—” Belichek started.

  Maggie protested, “Your career, too.”

  “Not if I can help it,” Landis said.

  Maggie scoffed, “Like you’d throw him under the bus, Landis. Give it up.”

  He shrugged and left, ending the subject. Though Jamie didn’t think any of them forgot it. She certainly didn’t, as they settled in the basement.

  It was furnished as a family room with an impressive TV, wrap-around couches against two walls and a computer area.

  By the time Belichek showed them around, explained how to operate everything, and they’d each had a bathroom break, J.D. returned with food.

  Done eating, Jamie cleaned her hands on extra napkins from the takeout place, then yawned hugely.

  After discussion about J.D. leaving the next day — at least long enough to check in with his job and his house in Bedhurst — Belichek said, “As for Jamie tomorrow—”

  “Tomorrow, I’m going to the foundation,” she said.

  “No.” It came from three of them — Maggie, J.D., and Belichek.

  “I can’t hide out for—”

  “The hell you can’t,” Maggie said. “Jamie, this is not something you can wish away by being optimistic. This—”

  “I know that, Maggie. But if the person who was killed was Bethany Usher, then it’s my responsibility, because she worked at the foundation.”

  “It’s our job, not yours,” Belichek said.

  “It’s my responsibility,” she repeated.

  “You two can argue about that later,” Maggie said. “The priority is figuring this out. And tomorrow morning, Landis is going to interview you. Tonight, get some rest.”

  Because you’re going to need it hung in the air.

  Belichek’s calm voice broke the somber mood.

  “Jamie sleeps down here. Less chance of being spotted from outside. I’ll be on the stairs.” Unspoken was that no one would get through him.

  Maggie said, “Not you, Bel. You need to sleep — Landis, too — to work this. I’ll stay down here with Jamie. And J.D.—”

  “Will keep an eye on both of them.”

  Mild words. An unmild promise.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Maggie and J.D. went out to his truck, they said for something Maggie forgot.

  In the silence between him and Jamie, Belichek looked toward the stairs.

  The others had already been gone long enough to retrieve multiple items.

  Jamie also glanced toward the stairs, the look in her eyes saying she realized they’d been gone longer than necessary.

  Abruptly, she said, “You told me focusing on the bad is your job description, but Tanner isn’t like that.”

  Was she talking to distract herself or him from contemplation of what else they might be doing out there alone in the dark?

  He said none of that.

  “Don’t let him fool you.”

  Her eyebrows requested more information. He wasn’t sharing the gloomier aspects of his partner’s personality.

  She gave a soft huff of acquiescence. “Then you both focus on bad things and that has to wear on you.”

  “Not when we catch the bad things.”

  She looked at him, her head at an angle, as if trying for a different perspective.

  “Like another man whose job was to catch bad things,” she said softly. “That must have been so hard for your grandfather. For your family.”

  “Not like it was hard on you and your families. But … hard.”

  “He’s the reason you went into law enforcement.”

  Silence.

  “There’s more?”

  More silence.

  “You don’t need to tell me. But you need to tell somebody.”

  He cut her a look.

  “Is it working for you not to tell anyone?”

  Finally, he said, “He carried it. Carried it to his grave.”

  “Carried what?”

  “Failing. Failing your aunt. Failing the three of you. Especially you. The little one, he called you.”

  “Failing? Me? Oh… No. No.”

  Before she could assemble more words, Belichek said, “You were there when the police caught your aunt’s murderer.”

  “How do you—? From reading my journals.” A frown crossed her eyes.

  Because she didn’t remember w
riting that? She hadn’t.

  But she’d moved on.

  “Maggie doesn’t know. Doesn’t know Ally and I were there that day.” She stood, paced to the bottom of the stairs and back. “Ally and I agreed she shouldn’t ever know. You can’t tell her. She was so concentrated on protecting us from… from everything that happened. Even now. There’s no sense in letting her know that we saw … what we saw.”

  A sound came from the front door.

  Jamie sucked in a breath and instinctively stepped back. Into him because he was already behind her.

  Then she pulled in another breath, he felt it on hairs at the back of his neck.

  He stepped to the side, then forward, blocking her body with his.

  Pressed against him, she didn’t back up.

  The front door opened slightly. He’d given Maggie a key, still…

  A voice came low, relaxed. “It’s J.D. and Maggie.”

  Jamie’s hand touched his side. He held for a moment, then stepped forward.

  Away.

  * * * *

  Belichek was on the stairs leading to his bedroom the next time the sound came at the front door.

  He’d spent the past two hours accessing what information he could from home.

  All had been quiet from downstairs, indicating Jamie and Maggie might be getting much-needed sleep.

  As he passed the stairwell to the basement on his way to the front door, he saw only the gleam of Carson’s eyes — and that for an instant.

  He stood on the hinge side of the door. “Who is it?”

  “Landis.”

  After Belichek opened the door, he looked around. “Early to bed group, huh?”

  “Not much sleep the past few nights.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m using your couch tonight.”

  Belichek nodded, heading into the living room. Other detectives might steer clear of the contagion of potential career suicide. Landis’ need to know the truth wouldn’t let him. It’s why they were good partners.

  “You know where the stuff is. Anything new?”

  “Some of the DNA’s in.”

  “Anything?”

  Landis opened the ottoman that held a pillow, a sheet, and a blanket. He dropped the pile on the couch, slid off his shoes, and sat beside it.