by Debra Webb
They hadn’t gotten very far on their list last night. Brennan was the only name scribbled there so far. He’d been toying with a few others. He’d already put in a call to Billy about pulling records to find out what planned developments Sasha’s mother had been working on the final year of her life. There would hopefully be notes in the records if any of the developers or builders had given her any trouble or if any issues had cropped up with the properties during construction or later on.
“Toast would be perfect.”
He slathered butter on both pieces, placed each on a small plate and offered one to her. “Jelly?”
“No, thanks.” She nibbled a bite. “Perfect.”
He devoured his in a few bites, washed it down with coffee.
“I’ve been thinking about Leandra Brennan.” Sasha dabbed her lips with a napkin. “I sent a text to Rey—you know Audrey Anderson at the newspaper.”
He nodded. “I know her, yes.” Audrey Anderson had been accidentally instrumental in the resuscitation of his wounded career. The remains buried in the basement of her newspaper had set off shock waves from here to Chicago. Not to mention, a highly sought after federal witness had been hiding amid the Mennonite community in Franklin County and Audrey had helped shake him loose.
“I realized that Brennan is about the same age my mother would be if she were still alive,” Sasha explained, “so I asked Rey to check her extensive resources to see if the two attended school together. Well, you know Rey—thorough is her middle name. She sent me a very long text this morning. The two went to school together from kindergarten through high school graduation. They were accepted into the same college from which they both graduated, and they were married the same summer—they were each other’s maid and matron of honor.”
Branch had never been married or even engaged, but even he understood the maid and matron of honor thing was a big deal. “So they were really close.”
Sasha nodded. “Really close. The big difference was children. Mother and Daddy had me a few years after they were married. Brennan didn’t have her first child until the year my parents were murdered. She had a son that fall and then another one two years later. The thing is, I couldn’t understand why I didn’t really remember her. You would think friends that close would have done more than have the occasional lunch together. I would expect shopping sprees, picnics and barbecues, and maybe even family vacations, but I don’t recall anything like that involving Brennan.”
“You should ask Arlene,” Branch offered. “Maybe there’s more to the story that she didn’t mention.”
“There has to be. It’s too strange.” She picked up her mug again. “I mentioned to Rey that the murders might have been related to trouble with one or both of my parents’ workplaces, so she did a little digging there, too.” Sasha touched the screen of her phone, forcing it to light up. “On my mother’s side there were several small issues with zoning and site developments, as well as architectural review setbacks, but only a few were noteworthy. The big-box store that opened on the boulevard was one. The drama played out in the courtroom before an agreement was reached. The extension at the auto manufacturer facility created a little commotion in the community. There was some question as to whether the adjoining property was properly zoned. But it was the William Richards Stadium that generated the most buzz. Apparently my mother was embroiled in a major battle over design issues that failed to meet code. According to Rey, it got really ugly in the media and in the city meetings.”
“That was the year before, though, right?” Branch remembered his father commenting that the stadium might not happen because of some sort of design flaws.
“It was.”
Branch added the stadium to their list. “We can get the developers’ names for both the stadium and the big-box store. Anything on your dad’s side?”
“There was some issue with the hospital.” She shrugged. “The construction company he worked for was contracted to complete some part of the project and then midway into the project they pulled out. Rey said her father did an editorial piece on the disagreement but otherwise there was no mention of the trouble in the papers. Whatever happened, it was settled fairly quietly.”
“The hospital would be a Packard project. Brennan works for Packard.” Now, there was an interesting connection. “I almost hate to say it out loud, but I can see Packard being involved with murder.” Branch surprised himself with the announcement. Maybe it was because his father despised the man, Jarvis Packard. Whatever the case, Branch couldn’t help seeing him as a scumbag—a rich one, but a scumbag nonetheless.
“Beyond the connection with Brennan, why would you feel so strongly about Packard? Is there something else I should know?”
“Something my father said on several occasions when I was a kid.” He should ask him about it. “He said a man was only as good as his word and Jarvis Packard’s word was as worthless as sand in the desert.”
Sasha nodded. “That’s fairly worthless.”
Branch laughed. “In my father’s opinion, anyway.”
Their gazes caught and for a long moment they looked at each other. It was one of those moments when you didn’t know whether to speak or to act. Either one seemed like a risk to what came next, and yet the urge to do the latter was nearly overwhelming. Branch went with the former.
“This is not the time, I get that, but I want to kiss you more than I’ve wanted to do anything in a very long time.”
For another endless second she only stared at him. Then she smiled. “I’m having trouble with that, too. I’m sure we shouldn’t—”
Before she could say more, he leaned across the counter and kissed her. She tasted of coffee and felt like silk. He hesitated, their lips still touching, and when she didn’t pull away he deepened the kiss. He wanted to walk around this damned island and pull her into his arms. He wanted to carry her to his bed and make love to her. He wanted to do it the right way this time.
A cell rattled against the counter with a lively tune and Sasha drew away. “That’s my daughter. I have to take this.”
She rushed away, but not before Branch saw her touch her lips and draw in a sharp breath. He wondered if her lips were on fire the way his were or if her heart was pounding as his was. He should have gone after her all those years ago. He’d never wanted anyone the way he did Sasha and he’d kept it to himself all this time. For no other reason than so he could focus on his career, and just maybe there had been a little fear involved.
His dad and his grandmother had warned him often that there were more important things in life than one’s career. He’d had to learn that the hard way.
When he’d shaken off the lingering lust, he made a call to Billy and brought him up to speed on what he and Sasha were thinking.
“I can do some checking. See if Packard has had any issues since then. Any lawsuits or code violations. You know,” the chief of police pointed out, “it’s always easy to finger the bully—the one everybody expects to be bad. But it’s not always the bully who does the bad stuff.”
Branch shut off the coffee maker and rinsed the carafe as the man spoke. “You’ve been here all these years and I’ve been out of the picture until recently. If we’re putting the number one pushy developer aside for the moment, who’s your runner-up?”
“Keegan and Roark, they built the stadium. They wanted in on the hospital deal—according to my daddy. They intended to make a huge donation and have a wing named after them, but Packard wouldn’t have it. He didn’t want their money. Some long-ago bad blood, the way I hear it.”
Branch had a funny feeling Billy was feeding him all this information for a reason. “Not that I don’t appreciate the heads-up,” he confessed, “but I have to say, I’m surprised you’re sharing all this with me, Chief. Is there something I should be reading between the lines?”
A few seconds of silence elapsed. “This is all specu
lation, Branch. I don’t have a speck of evidence. I can’t exactly investigate a problem that doesn’t exist. As you well know, that’s not the way it works in law enforcement. Someone has to break the law before I can investigate. On the other hand, a guy working off-the-record—on vacation, let’s say—can poke around to his heart’s desire as long as he doesn’t break any laws.”
Someone had warned Billy to back off.
“I guess there are folks who don’t like to see the city waste resources on a cold case.”
“Especially when the fingerprints found in a certain shack lead to a man who went missing twenty-seven years ago and eventually ended up as a long-term resident in a psychiatric facility.”
Branch’s instincts perked up. Oh, he remembered the case. “Are we talking about Packard’s son Devlin?”
“Bingo.”
That was one case Branch doubted anyone would forget. Devlin Packard had come home on spring break the same year Sasha’s parents died. Before the week’s end, he had abruptly disappeared. Months later, when he was found, the guy was strung out on drugs. The word was he never recovered. “Devlin would be what? About forty-seven or -eight now? The last I heard, he was still in an assisted living facility of some sort.”
“He was, until he walked out about three days ago. No one has seen him since.”
Tension coiled inside Branch. “Was he the one staying in the shack when the Lenoirs were murdered?”
“He’s been in there at some point in the past and I’m guessing he was the one in the Lenoir house when Sasha was there. Maybe even in the Simmons house the other night. The timing would fit.”
“Is he dangerous?” Worry gnawed at Branch’s gut.
“No violent tendencies. Always the ideal patient. Then he just ups and walks out. His daddy has a whole posse of his security minions out looking for him.”
Sasha walked back into the kitchen. Branch would have to find a way to convince her to stay close, particularly after this news.
Good luck with that.
“Anything else?” Branch asked. Sasha had her handbag. Obviously she was ready to go. The second intruder had done little to deter her. But then, he couldn’t blame her. She had waited a long time for the truth.
“That’s it for now. Watch your step, Branch. Something is wrong with this case and I can’t quite put my finger on it. I had no idea so much had been swept under the rug. By the way, thanks for the heads-up on Leandra Brennan. She didn’t have much to say but she knows plenty. I’ll be watching her. I’m hoping when she realizes I’m not pushing this case back into a drawer, she’ll come around.”
“I’ll touch base with you later today.” Branch severed the connection and settled his full attention on Sasha. “We may have an ID on the intruder.”
“That’s great.”
He briefed her on the latest from Brannigan. The news only seemed to create more questions rather than provide answers. Branch was feeling the same rising tension.
One step forward, two steps back.
“Why would Packard’s son have been staying in the shack?”
Branch mentally ran through a couple of scenarios. “It’s possible he was involved with a drug dealer on that side of town and happened upon the shack by accident. It was empty, so he made himself a home. I remember my parents talking about his disappearance. The rumor was he had some kind of breakdown.”
“But you said he had shown no violent tendencies, so it’s not likely that he committed the murders.”
“There’s always a first time,” Branch countered. “The truth is, if he went over the edge in some sort of psychotic break, he may have done some very violent things and have no recall of the events. This would explain why Packard has kept him locked away all this time.”
Even as Branch said the words, he thought of Billy’s suggestion that the bad guy was not always the obvious bully. But maybe this time the glaringly obvious bully was the bad guy. Sometimes bad guys liked hiding in plain sight. The boldness of the move gave them a sense of power.
Sasha squared her shoulders. “I intend to track down Dr. Farr today. I want to know why he concluded that I made up the voices. I want to know what else he said in his report. In fact, I believe I have the right to demand a copy of his report.”
Branch thought of her daughter and realized that Sasha was the only family the girl had left since her dad was not in the picture. “I’m not sure you going off on your own is such a good idea, Sasha. Your daughter is counting on you to come back home when this is over. Any risk you take is a risk to her.”
Sasha held up her hands. “I’m a good mother, Branch. I always consider my daughter’s needs first.” When he would have tried to explain himself, she added, “I am perfectly capable of driving across town to Dr. Farr’s office on my own. I’ve done pretty well so far.”
The woman lived in a major metropolitan area. She was accustomed to taking care of herself in far more risky environments than this one simply due to the nature of her work. She obviously knew how to handle herself. But they were just getting started with this case and a media-binging pop star with a bad attitude was vastly different from a cold-blooded killer. Things could escalate quickly.
“I let you talk me into going our separate ways yesterday and you got into a dicey situation,” he reminded her. “I don’t think we should go down that same path again today. And for the record, I’m certain you’re a fantastic mother and very capable.”
“Okay.” Sasha exhaled a big breath. “Let’s compromise. I’ll track down the shrink while you do whatever it is you need to do, and then we’ll meet up to see what we have.” Before he could utter his protest, she urged, “I will go only to the man’s office and to the hospital looking for him. Nowhere else.”
“No going back to your old home place or to your grandmother’s house without me. Basically no going anywhere you might end up alone and cornered.”
“You have my word.”
He nodded. “All right, but I want to hear from you every half hour.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. And what about you? What will you be doing?”
“I’m going to the office where your mother worked and see how difficult it’s going to be to get into their archives. Most of the files are public record, so we’ll see.”
“You think it was Packard, don’t you?”
The lady was far too perceptive.
“I think Packard probably has more motive than anyone else simply because of the sheer number of projects he was and is involved with.”
“Whoever was responsible,” she said, her voice overly quiet, “he had something to hide. Something my mother knew about. But there haven’t been any epic fails of structures or roads or anything like that, which seems to negate the entire idea.”
“Maybe he’s gotten lucky until now. The trouble might be just around the corner or coming in the next decade. But we know there was something. Something big enough to kill for. And if he killed once to keep his secret, he won’t hesitate to kill again.”
She was backing away from him before he could talk himself out of allowing her out of his sight. “We’ll catch up as soon as I’ve spoken to Dr. Farr.”
Branch grabbed his keys and his hat. “I’ll follow up with Brennan while I’m at it.”
She glanced at him, clearly surprised by that move.
“Now that the chief of police has rattled that cage,” he explained, “I’m hoping she’ll be a little more cooperative.”
Billy’s hands had been tied to some degree. Branch didn’t have that trouble.
“She has the answers we need,” Sasha insisted. “I’m certain of it.”
One way or another Branch intended to find out.
Chapter Fourteen
Sasha met Rey at the diner for an early lunch. The toast she’d had with Branch was long gone. A Cobb salad was just the ticke
t. She decided to forego the dressing and just enjoy the rich ingredients and a glass of sweet iced tea with lemon in honor of her grandmother. Viola Simmons had loved sweet tea.
“I did some additional research on Devlin,” Rey said. She stabbed a forkful of her greens. “He’s a resident at Mountain View, a private resort-like facility in Sewanee. No hardship there, I can tell you. I did a piece on the services they provide. Only the very best. I’m surprised he walked out of such a posh environment. Mountain View is known for top-notch patient care.”
“Do you know his diagnosis?” Rey was good at ferreting out information. However, Sasha wasn’t sure if what she was asking with that question was something she could learn without doing so via some illegal avenue. There were some things even the best investigative reporter couldn’t uncover. The HIPAA Law was generally a brick wall when it came to protecting the privacy rights of patients.
“A distant cousin who visits him occasionally tells me it’s schizophrenia and drug addiction. He can’t stay on the prescribed meds and off the nonprescribed ones, so he can’t stay healthy, thus the long-term residency. He long ago made the choice to become a permanent resident rather than deal with life outside those insulating walls.”
“I guess he changed his mind since he walked out of the place a few days ago.”
Rey added a packet of low-calorie sweetener to her tea and gave it a stir. “The family’s not talking about his abrupt departure but I hear the father’s security team is scouring the countryside for him. You think he’s your intruder?”
Sasha nodded. “I do. I think he left the note and that he was the one staying in that old shack when my parents were murdered.”
“Wow.” Rey’s eyes rounded. “That could potentially mean he witnessed what happened that night. It’s possible that’s what sent him over the edge. The timing is about right.”
“Someone knows what happened. Leandra Brennan, Devlin Packard—someone knows.” Sasha sighed. “I just have to persuade one of them to talk.”