“We have to keep this on the up-and-up. No running away.”
“I won’t try hopping a plane to Mexico to avoid arrest. I’m a lot of things, Slade, but I’m no coward. I will find who killed Nevil Quenten and whoever is trying to frame me. If I die, I die fighting for my life.”
“You’re not going to die.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“Fair enough, but you’re not doing this alone.”
“The rules won’t—”
“We can do it by the rules.”
The man was exasperating. Asia exhaled. “Yeah, how?”
Seconds passed, and a heavy silence hung between them. A dare. Slade paced a small path in front of her, sighed and dropped onto the foot of her bed. Asia scooted her legs away to refrain from kicking him off.
He held her gaze, caramel eyes boring into her. “I’m asking you to trust me and give me time. I’ll come up with something.”
Asia lifted her chin and folded her arms over her chest. “Think faster, because with or without you, I’m out of here.”
FOUR
Asia shifted in the passenger seat of the unmarked patrol car, attempting to get comfortable. Twenty minutes on the road felt more like days. Lack of sleep the night before had left her exhausted and achy. She’d declined the doctor’s recommended pain medication for her shoulder. The scheduled meeting with Detective Beardly meant she needed a clear—albeit throbbing—head. But she didn’t dare complain aloud.
Her insistence for a break-of-dawn release had required a prolonged debate with her doctor. The effort depleted any scraps left of her waning energy. Still, she’d won, and freedom—however limited it might be—was worth the cost. She wouldn’t give Slade any doubts about her leaving the hospital.
“So what’s the plan? Are you taking me straight to jail?” She exuded a little more snark than she’d intended, but finesse came with sleep, so she was lacking in both areas.
The corner of Slade’s lip curved upward, but his dark sunglasses remained transfixed on the road. “Sergeant Oliver agreed you’re in danger and need protective custody. The boldness of last night’s attacker proves location is crucial. So we’re headed off the grid.”
“Where?”
“A safe house.”
Based upon the remote highway they traveled, that meant someplace out in middle-of-nowhere Nebraska. A safe house was better than prison, but didn’t help solve her case.
“And do what? I can’t just sit around. I need to find evidence to exonerate me.”
“Agreed. After your meeting with Detective Beardly, Trey and I will review the hospital’s video footage again. I want to identify your attacker.”
Slade’s little brother would join them? That was news to her.
As if in answer, he continued, “Sergeant Oliver authorized Trey to help with your protection detail after Trooper Fisher’s attack last night. However, because of low staffing, he added the caveat that Trey might be called out.”
Asia snorted. “It’s comforting that my personal safety is a patrol priority.”
“Your other option is an extended stay at the county jail. There’s plenty of law enforcement protection there.”
Ouch. She’d meant the comment as a joke. Obviously, she wasn’t the only cranky one this morning. “Touché.”
Slade frowned. “Sorry, I get grumpy when I’m tired.”
“I remember.” Too well. “Okay...”
“Anyway, then we’ll formulate our POA.”
She tucked her hands into her hoodie pocket. “Plan of action?”
“I’m impressed you speak acronym.” Slade waggled his eyebrows above the rim of his sunglasses, reminding her of the childhood boy she’d known her whole life. The painful reflection of all they’d shared...and all they’d lost.
A tiny chip toppled off the armor around her heart.
Slade’s phone rang, and he pulled to the side of the road to take the call. He swiped to answer then shifted the device to his left ear, preventing Asia from overhearing.
The headache intensified to a steady pulse behind her eyes, compounded by the morning sunshine glistening off the snowdrifts that bordered the highway.
“No worries. I can handle it.”
She studied him.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. See you soon.” He dropped the phone into his coat pocket and pulled back onto the road.
“What was that about?”
“Trey was delayed on a missing-person call.”
“Oh.” Asia focused on the countryside’s miles of rolling hills, separated by the occasional county road or farm. The prior week’s snow blanketed the area in an endless wintry landscape. The cold temperatures prevented any significant melting.
Slade flipped on the radio, and a familiar Christmas carol filled the space, eliciting an awkward cheerfulness for the depressing trip.
Dreams of living in the country had once seemed possible. Now Asia was grateful if she earned enough at the salon to pay for her dinky one-bedroom apartment in Newman Valley. What would happen to her?
She had no family, which meant facing her impending incarceration alone. Hopelessness constricted her throat.
Was this all connected to Zander? Their last conversation flowed through her mind. His promises to get clean and stop his incessant marital infidelities. Her stupidity for believing him.
Yet she’d asked Slade to trust her, though the glaring evidence was so condemning it had her almost doubting her own innocence. She sped through her mental index of questions. Whose drugs were in her purse? Who murdered Nevil Quenten? And who had texted Slade? How did they get into her phone?
“My finger,” Asia blurted.
“What?”
“I use my fingerprint to unlock my phone.” Triumph exploded into hope.
Slade nodded. “That makes sense. The killer could’ve forced your hand. No pun intended.”
Relief coursed through her. “See. I told you I didn’t send that text.”
“It helps, but we need something more. Between the scopolamine and the killer using your fingerprint to unlock your cell phone, I think we’ve established plausibility for someone kidnapping and framing you for Quenten’s murder.”
He’d said we. The word brought a measure of comfort to her heart. “You make it sound easy.” Maybe she should get an attorney. Asia took a deep breath. “Tell me the truth. Where do I stand? I’m not sure who to call. I don’t know any lawyers.”
Slade paused. “I’ll ask around for recommendations.”
Dread clung to her shoulders. He hadn’t refuted her need for legal representation. “Am I going to jail?” The words stuck in her throat.
Slade’s grip on the steering wheel visibly tightened. “Don’t go there. Stay positive. Focus on remembering who else was in the trailer that night. I believe that person pulled the trigger.”
“But I can’t—” She swallowed.
He worked his jaw. “Asia, the drugs in your purse are enough for an arrest.”
Panic tackled her, squeezing the breath from her lungs. “Even if I’ve never used drugs? Even if they’re not mine?”
He didn’t reply.
Possession alone would sink her. Asia’s mountain of challenges continued to multiply.
Several long silent minutes passed, and a new melody began with the singer’s promise to make it home for Christmas. If only Asia had that reassurance. Lord, what do I do?
For the first time, Asia wondered if God was listening.
* * *
Slade’s attention remained on the road, so he was able to avoid Asia’s eyes. He’d never doubted the system and had devoted his life to enforcing the law. So what hindered his confidence now? Fear that Asia would be convicted of a crime she didn’t commit?
No. He wouldn’t let that happen.
Bolstering his unspoken vow, Slade tilted his head to the side, releasing a satisfying crack and momentary relief from the kink in his neck. Stress still tightened his shoulders, reminding him that he was too old to pull an all-nighter. It’d taken until four o’clock for him to convince Asia not to run. He’d reasoned that if she took off, he’d have no chance of helping her. Being a fugitive would boost her to the top of the suspect list.
She’d finally acquiesced and fallen asleep while he’d kept one eye open and fought to stay awake. He didn’t dare give her an opportunity to leave. In a strange way, it pleased him to see this side of Asia. He recognized her feistiness and her relentless will to win the battle. She’d never been a weakling, but years of her deceased husband’s neglect had stolen her zeal. Now it returned in her desire to prove her innocence and survive, but anxiety muddled her common sense.
Slade functioned on limited sleep regularly, thanks to the awful recurring dream that stole his slumber. Zander haunted him both in life and death. Until he found the truth behind his friend’s murder, he’d relive the nightmare every night.
The buzz of his phone startled him. “Sarge.”
“Jackson, what’s your ETA?”
“Two minutes. Trey just called. He’s on his way too.”
“Good. Beardly should be there about the same time.”
Slade inhaled and said, “Sir, perhaps we should postpone the interview. There’s no rush. It’s not like Asia will run away.”
Asia harrumphed, crossing her arms. The action was almost cute.
“Don’t push it.” Apparently, Oliver didn’t see the humor. “The interview should’ve happened last night. Besides, Beardly’s not there to arrest her. He’s conducting his investigation. Mrs. Stratton is his only witness.”
Slade palmed the steering wheel with one hand. “Yes, sir.”
“I called to remind you the garage door sometimes sticks. I put the house key in the sedan’s glove box.”
“Thank you.”
“Keep me apprised.” Oliver disconnected.
Slade turned off the highway onto the county road and spotted the house on the right. The small ranch encircled by evergreens sat several hundred feet from the road, twenty miles outside the town of Norfolk.
He drove around, giving the property a once-over, then pulled up in front of the single-car garage and pressed the button on the opener. Nothing happened. He tried again, but the door didn’t budge. “Great. It’s stuck.”
“Is that bad?”
“Nah, that’s what Oliver called about. You’d think someone would’ve fixed it by now.”
Slade shifted into Park then swiveled to face Asia. “Stay in the car and keep the engine running until I finish clearing the house. If I don’t return in two minutes, or something looks suspicious, get out of here and call for help.” He handed Asia his cell phone.
For once, she didn’t comment, and her serious expression said she understood. Asia slid behind the wheel and locked the doors.
Slade headed toward the house, Glock at the ready. He inspected the ground for footprints or tracks. Nothing appeared out of place, and there were no signs of trespassing on the grounds.
No other buildings were on the property, and someone had decorated the thick line of trees with colorful Christmas lights and ornaments. Oliver hadn’t provided details on the homeowners and Slade didn’t question his boss. Anything was better than taking Asia to jail.
He completed his external surveillance at the rear of the ranch-style house, climbed the four wooden steps and unlocked the back door. He entered the premises through the eat-in kitchen and shut the door, warding off the increased windchill.
A square dining table was pushed against the wall separating the kitchen and living room. Slade continued into the living area, where a blue-flowered sofa and an oval coffee table took up most of the confined space. The large picture window faced the front of the house and the thick drapes were closed. He pulled back the curtains, ensuring no one hid behind them, and caught sight of Asia waiting in the car, engine running. Their eyes met before he turned and resumed his trek into the hallway and bedrooms. He moved through the rooms, checking under the beds and inside each closet.
When he reached the bathroom, he paused at the door. A polka-dot shower curtain hung over the claw-foot tub. In a swift motion, he brushed back the curtain, revealing an empty space. Finally, Slade hastened down the basement steps into a windowless, rectangular cement room, vacant except for an aged washer, dryer, furnace and water heater.
With a sigh of relief, he hurried up to the main level and out the front door.
He gave Asia a thumbs-up sign, and she unlocked the doors then shut off the engine. He helped her from the car. “All clear.”
“Good to know.” She wrapped herself in a hug, looking youthful and downright adorable in her black hoodie with her hair pulled into a high ponytail. Yet he didn’t miss the shadows under her eyes. “Brrr. It’s freezing.”
Slade shoved his hands into his coat pockets to keep from pulling her into his arms. “Wearing your coat would help.” He gestured to the red winter jacket she held.
The rumble of an engine caught his attention, and he spun to see a pickup barreling toward them.
Asia grasped his arm. “Who’s that?”
“Beardly.” Slade pinned her with a no-nonsense stare. “Listen, he’s only here to ask about what you remember. It’s important that you’re honest with him.”
“As opposed to the story I concocted for you?” She gave him a wry smile that both irked and humored Slade. The woman had a strange effect on him.
“Go on inside.” Slade gestured toward the house, and she complied, shutting the door behind her.
Slade stood at the bottom of the porch steps while Beardly parked next to the unmarked sedan and killed the engine.
The man took his time exiting the vehicle, and Slade considered heading into the house. At last, Beardly climbed out, carrying a cardboard drink carrier. “Perfect timing,” he announced in his unmistakable grating voice.
“Yeah, we just arrived.”
“Thought you might need a pick-me-up after your adventurous night.” Beardly wore his patrol-issued winter coat and a lopsided grin.
Trey’s pickup rumbled onto the property, and he parked beside Beardly’s vehicle.
The approach had Beardly spinning on his heel. “I didn’t realize your brother would be here.” He glanced down at the cardboard drink carrier with three cups.
“No worries. Trey and Magnum don’t like coffee.”
“Alrighty.” But the man’s grin had evaporated.
Slade held the door open. “Thanks for bringing the java. There’s not enough caffeine in the world to recoup a lost night’s sleep.”
Beardly chuckled and stepped into the house. “I hear that.”
Trey and his Belgian Malinois Magnum hurried over. “Nice ride, bro.” Trey gestured toward the nondescript four-door blue sedan.
“Oliver suggested it for anonymity,” Slade said.
His brother laughed. “You might as well get used to cars like that. They’ll never issue you another new Charger.”
Slade sighed at his sibling’s gift for stating the obvious. “I’ll probably end up with a twenty-year-old relic.”
Trey snickered and stepped into the house with Slade trailing behind. Sunlight beamed through the large picture window where four adults and a seventy-pound dog overcrowded the space. Asia wore her coat and shrank into the cushions at the far right side of the sofa. Her vulnerability had Slade nearly hopping over the oval table to sit next to her. Trey’s quirked eyebrow said the move wasn’t exactly stealthy.
Beardly placed the cardboard drink carrier on the table, and the delicious aroma of coffee wafted upward. “I wasn’t sure what everyone would want, so I got black coffees.” He reached into his coat pocket, withdraw
ing several packets of sugar and little plastic containers of creamer, tossing them next to the cups.
“Thank you,” Asia replied.
“Help yourselves. I’ll grab chairs from the dining room.” Beardly shuffled out and returned with two chairs, setting them opposite the sofa. Magnum lay next to Asia and lifted his large triangular head, emitting a low growl.
“Hey, pooch,” Beardly said warily.
“Mags,” Trey warned.
The dog quieted, but his eyes followed Beardly.
“This place is freezing.” Trey studied the thermostat on the wall. “No wonder. It’s only forty degrees.”
“Pilot light must be out.” Slade stood.
“Don’t get up—I’ll check,” Beardly offered.
“Furnace is in the basement.” Slade pointed to the far end of the kitchen.
“Be right back.” Beardly disappeared down the steps.
Trey dropped onto the chair closer to the door, and Magnum moved to his side. “I went through the hospital surveillance video and found something interesting.”
Slade removed the coffees from the carrier and passed one to Asia. “Do share.”
“Thanks.” She emptied three sugar packets into her cup.
“Later,” Trey mumbled as Beardly returned.
“Yep, got the pilot relit. Should heat up quick.” Beardly slid into the remaining chair, slipping off his coat. He snatched a creamer packet and dumped it into the cup in front of him, then leaned back, crossing one leg over his knee. “Heard you all had quite the scare last night. I stopped by to check on Trooper Fisher. She’s got a nasty headache but no serious injuries. Said she’d be released today.”
Though the man’s words weren’t rude or accusatory, Fisher’s injury on Slade’s watch stung his pride. He made a mental note to stop and visit her. “I’m grateful the masked gorilla attacker didn’t kill her. The coward bolted wearing the disguise. I’m hopeful we can find a way to identify him or the vehicle off the hospital garage security cameras.”
Beardly raised an eyebrow and jutted his chin. “Maybe getting a second pair of eyes on the recording would be beneficial.”
Silent Night Suspect Page 6