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Silent Night Suspect

Page 7

by Sharee Stover


  Defensiveness rose and perched on Slade’s shoulders. The desire to propel himself with caffeine overrode his retort, and he allowed the warm liquid to revive his brain.

  Beardly continued, “No shame. You’d had a horrible night. Could’ve missed something inadvertently.”

  Slade took another sip and worked to keep his voice even. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Yeah, I’m going through the recording again.” Trey’s tone prevented Slade from probing for more information. “Magnum and I’ll monitor the perimeter while you all talk.” He grabbed the dog’s leash and headed out the door.

  Beardly took a sip of his coffee, and something akin to annoyance passed over his face. He addressed Asia. “You’ve got a team of gifted troopers working your case, Mrs. Stratton.”

  “I guess.” She fidgeted with her cup.

  “It’s been a long time. I’m not sure if you remember me.” The investigator leaned forward.

  “I do. From the funeral,” Asia replied, meeting Slade’s eyes.

  Had it been almost a year since Zander’s funeral?

  He nodded and glanced down. “Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you,” Asia mumbled, focused on her hands.

  “I need to take your statement. Formalities, since the lab results will tell us plenty.” Beardly reached into his jacket and produced a small notepad and pen.

  Slade remained neutral but inwardly cringed.

  “Since you’ve had the opportunity to process everything, do you remember more? How did you end up in the trailer with Nevil Quenten?”

  “Not a thing.”

  Beardly made a note. “What about the drugs?”

  “There was nothing found in her system besides the scopolamine,” Slade said, then gave himself a mental slap for jumping into the conversation.

  Beardly tilted his head, narrowing his beady blue eyes. “Scopolamine. No kidding? I didn’t know that was detectable under a normal tox screen.”

  How much had Oliver told him? “I had a hunch and asked the lab to run the tests.”

  “Quick results. You must have great connections.” The man grinned. “Have you considered moving to Investigations? You have a knack for it.”

  Was the guy for real? “Not my style. I prefer working the road.”

  The detective chuckled. “I get that.”

  Slade lowered his defenses. Had he misjudged Beardly?

  “Some days I miss being just a trooper, especially when my phone’s gone off ten times in the middle of the night for an active case.”

  The snide remark reestablished Slade’s defensiveness, though Beardly appeared oblivious to the dig. “Well, let’s start at the beginning.”

  Asia inhaled and provided the same recap of the evening she’d told Slade.

  Beardly addressed him. “What were you doing way out there?”

  “I received a text.”

  The man snapped his fingers. “Oh yes, Oliver told me that.”

  Slade weighed his words. “The message was a cry for help, along with a screenshot of her location.”

  “Hmm.” Beardly sipped his coffee as uneasiness oozed between them. The evidence combined with his suppositions painted Asia with motive and opportunity.

  “I never sent the message,” Asia blurted.

  Beardly’s head snapped up. “It came from your phone though.”

  “Anyone could’ve sent it,” she rebutted.

  “Too many puzzling pieces.” Beardly made notes. “Hmm. Ma’am, are you aware cocaine was found in your purse at the trailer?”

  Slade swallowed.

  “I am, but it’s not mine.”

  Beardly grabbed his coffee and set down the notepad. “Can I take off the investigator hat for a moment?”

  A pause hung in the air.

  “Any jury would understand you killing Quenten. I sympathize with you. The guy dragged Zander into a life of crime.”

  Asia remained silent. Wise.

  “Considering your husband’s history, it’d be logical if you’d taken up using to cope with your grief. Admitting your addiction and opting for rehab might convince the judge to be more lenient—”

  Asia bolted upright. “I’m not an addict! I’ve never used drugs.”

  Beardly shrugged, and his neck all but disappeared.

  What was the guy trying to do? Slade recalled his father’s saying about holding your enemies close. “Opiates would’ve shown up on the tox screen.”

  “Right, right. I forgot about that. Forgive me, Mrs. Stratton. I didn’t mean to offend you.” Beardly’s watch beeped. “Crazy. One thing after the other today.” He slapped his knees. “Well, I think I have what I need. I’ll be in touch once we get the gunshot residue results.”

  “I’ll walk you out.” Slade jumped up, eager for the man to leave.

  When they’d stepped outside the door, Beardly paused and lowered his voice. “Be careful with that one. I’d hate to think she has it out for you. I mean, she’d made it clear with the higher-ups that she blamed you for her man’s murder.” He leaned closer. “You don’t imagine she lured you out there to kill you after she took care of Quenten?”

  A chill inched up Slade’s neck. Every logical argument he might offer flew out of his brain, leaving him with a complete void. He cleared his throat. “She’s angry, yes, but she’s no vigilante.”

  Beardly sighed. “Yeah, I s’pose you’re right. That would’ve taken a lot of premeditation on her part. It’s just... I keep thinking about the way she took off after Zander’s funeral, and out of nowhere she returns to Newman Valley. Then we find Quenten dead? Her hate would have to be off the charts to want to kill you.” Beardly planted a beefy hand on Slade’s shoulder and he struggled not to smack it off. “Hey, man, no one blames you. You did the right thing. Zander had it coming.”

  There had to be a way to end this conversation. As if sensing his discomfort, Trey and Magnum approached, and the dog emitted another throaty growl. “Nein,” Trey admonished, using German commands. “Finished?”

  “Definitely.” Beardly moved toward his truck. “I’d better get to the office and do real investigative work instead of churning nonsense around my old brain. I’ll be in touch.”

  Slade followed his brother into the house and closed the door. The rumble of Beardly’s engine faded off the property.

  “You did great, Asia.”

  She shrugged. “I need to use the restroom.”

  Trey cleared his throat and pressed his lips into a thin line, waving Slade closer to the door.

  “Magnum’s not a fan of Beardly.” Slade reached down to pat the dog’s head.

  “He’s a great judge of character. I don’t like that guy.” Trey glanced toward the bathroom and lowered his voice. “There’s something you should know.”

  Had the lab in Omaha found additional evidence already?

  “Kramer contacted Oliver.”

  Slade groaned. “Great. Because Asia’s got a connection to law enforcement.”

  District Attorney Grayson Kramer had exploited Zander’s atrocities and murder for his political platform, spreading his “no one’s above the law” zero-tolerance policy.

  Trey nodded. “He’s super interested in Asia’s case and pushing for an arrest. Rumor is he’s demanding a press conference later today to name her as a suspect.”

  Slade’s stomach twisted into a knot. “He can’t do that! The lab hasn’t finished processing the evidence yet.”

  “No, but Kramer’s influencing that process too.”

  Desperation to help Asia skyrocketed into urgency.

  “One more thing,” Trey said. “Callista caught me in the office this morning.”

  This day was improving by the second. Sergeant Oliver’s inherited secretary, Callista Neff, was famous for fakin
g empathy while stirring the pot and gathering information from her unsuspecting victims. “Did you escape unscathed?”

  Trey snorted. “I kept her talking so she wouldn’t squeeze anything out of me.”

  “And?”

  “She said Beardly’s a frequent visitor to Oliver. He’s concerned about your personal relationship with Asia. Worried it’ll skew your objectivity.”

  “Oliver’s expressed the same opinion.” Slade wanted to refute the matter, but the same fear had tumbled around his brain all morning. He was too close, and in too deep, to stop now. He’d see Asia’s case through, one way or the other. “Trey, I’d never risk your life or career. I promise, if things don’t go well—”

  Trey slapped Slade’s back. “I’ve got your six, bro.”

  He exhaled relief at Trey’s cop slang promising Slade could count on his brother. “I have to help her. If I had an inkling she was guilty, I’d be the first to say so. She’s innocent. There’s no way she murdered Quenten.”

  Trey shoved his hands into his pockets. “I trust your judgment, but without evidence—”

  The sound of running water and the opening of the bathroom door halted the discussion. Asia returned and paused by the kitchen entrance. “Wow, that smell is awful. Think there are any scented candles around here?” She moved toward the cabinets and pulled several open before producing a large decorative candle encased in glass. Tugging open a drawer, she withdrew an old silver Zippo lighter. “These are the best. You don’t burn your finger holding down the button while trying to light a candle.”

  Slade moved closer to her and inhaled the stench of rotten eggs. The scent grew worse as he neared the gas stove. He met Trey’s eyes. “Do you smell that?”

  “Gas!” Trey snatched Magnum’s leash and yanked open the back door.

  Slade grabbed Asia’s arm, causing her to knock the glass container off the counter. He smacked the lighter out of her other hand, and it toppled to the linoleum, still aflame.

  “Slade, let go!”

  He ignored her demand and yanked her outside.

  The group aimed for the road, their feet hammering the frozen ground. Asia slipped on an icy patch, but Slade caught her before she fell. Hefting her into his arms, he lunged for safety.

  They reached the gravel just as the house exploded into flames.

  FIVE

  A frigid breeze and the rancid stench of smoke blew over Asia where she lay sprawled on the icy ground beside Slade. Her ears rang from the blast, a great reminder she was alive.

  “Are you okay?” Trey and Magnum rushed to them.

  Asia scrambled to her feet, grasping Slade’s hand. “Yes, I think so.” She brushed the snow off her hoodie and pants. “What just happened?”

  “Natural gas explosion.” Slade withdrew his phone and requested emergency assistance before shifting closer to Trey. The men spoke in hushed tones, their voices fading into the background of the raging fire.

  Asia stood rooted in place, her gaze transfixed on the small house consumed by orange-and-red flames stretching up to the cloudless sky—a horrific contrast to the holiday-card-worthy property. She spotted a section of the sofa’s blue floral print amid the wood and debris burying the sedan and Trey’s pickup. The full realization of their near demise slammed into her chest, and she gasped, hand over her mouth to keep from crying out.

  Slade moved to her side and draped his coat over her shoulders. “Help’s on the way.”

  “We could’ve been killed,” she whispered.

  “But we weren’t. If you hadn’t smelled the gas—” The growl of an approaching truck interrupted him.

  Detective Beardly’s vehicle.

  “Well, well, look who returned just in time?” Trey pulled Magnum closer.

  “Don’t jump to conclusions. We don’t know what caused the gas leak,” Slade said. “And the last thing we need is to accuse him right now.”

  She couldn’t agree more. Upsetting the man in charge of her investigation would be idiotic. Still...was Trey implying Beardly tried to kill them?

  Beardly parked his pickup a few feet away, jumped from the vehicle and jogged toward them.

  He thrust a blanket around Asia’s shoulders, and she reluctantly tugged it tighter. “Thank you.”

  “Wow. Are you all right?” He didn’t wait for their response. “I was headed north when I saw the flames. Man, I thought you all were dead.”

  “Yeah, it’s a good thing you left when you did,” Trey said, suspicion in his tone.

  “No kidding!”

  “Did you notice anything unusual when you went down to check the pilot light?” Trey pressed.

  Beardly worked his jaw. “I’m not sure I like your implication, Trooper. If I had seen something wrong, I would’ve said so.” His beady eyes homed in on Trey.

  “No one’s accusing you. I didn’t smell the gas when I cleared the house before you all arrived either,” Slade intervened, stepping between the men.

  That seemed to pacify Beardly. “Let’s get into my truck. It’s too cold for us to be having this conversation out here.”

  “That’s a great idea. We don’t want to add anything worse to this day,” Asia said, reaching for Trey’s arm. He gave her a knowing look.

  If Beardly was responsible for the explosion, Asia had one more enemy—and things had just gotten very complicated.

  * * *

  “That’s two vehicles in two days.” Oliver’s complaint sounded more like a whine than a rebuke.

  Slade grimaced. “In all fairness, I wasn’t in either of them at the time of their destruction, so technically it’s not my fault.”

  Oliver quirked a brow. “Doubtful the colonel will view it that way.”

  Emergency personnel flooded the property, while firefighters worked to put out the flames.

  Eager to get Asia to a safe place, Slade proposed, “Unless you need us to stick around, I’d like to take off.”

  “And go where?” Oliver emphasized his remark by gesturing toward the charred remains of the country home. “I don’t have a surplus of safe houses, Jackson.”

  Slade glanced down, building the courage to make his request. Oliver’s answer would be irrelevant because he and Trey had already determined to follow through with the plan. “I need to move her to safety.”

  “This was a safe place,” Oliver groused, shaking his head. “What am I going to tell my brother?”

  “This was his home?” Slade stared at the aftermath with new regret.

  Oliver sighed. “He and his wife are snowbirds. Forget about it. That’s my problem, not yours.”

  Slade shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Sir, who knew we’d be here?”

  “Besides me?”

  Slade nodded.

  “You, Trey and Beardly.”

  “Thing is, when we arrived, I cleared the premises and found nothing out of the ordinary. I never smelled the gas, even in the basement.” Slade explained how Beardly had offered to check the pilot light then left before the explosion.

  “Trooper Jackson, I hope you’re not implying what I think you are.”

  “His departure was convenient.”

  “And how would he guarantee the timing of the blast?” Oliver’s tone was incredulous.

  Slade broached the allegation delicately, Trey’s suppositions hovering in his mind. “He could’ve timed a detonator to create a spark and set his watch alarm to give him an opportunity to leave before it exploded.”

  “For your sake, I’d keep that suspicion to yourself until we have a viable explanation from the fire marshal for the explosion. It also could’ve been coincidental and happened while Beardly was still in the house.”

  “With all due respect, I don’t believe in coincidence.”

  “With no evidence, your accusation will make Beardly an instant enemy. And for
Asia’s sake, that would be unwise,” Oliver warned.

  “Noted. I’m just laying out the facts.”

  “Hmm.” Oliver looked past Slade to where Beardly stood talking to the fire department battalion chief. A look Slade couldn’t read passed over the man’s face.

  “Sir, I respectfully request to move Asia to an undisclosed location.”

  Oliver snapped his neck so fast, Slade wondered if he’d give himself whiplash. “You want to hide her?”

  “The woman’s life has been in nonstop danger. I’ll keep in touch and provide regular updates. But I prefer only Trey and I know the exact locale.” Slade held his breath. The audacious request might offend Oliver, but Slade prayed he’d recognized the urgency.

  Oliver glanced down and shook his head. “I won’t sign off on anything official—”

  “Understood.”

  “You’re also running out of time. Kramer’s pushing for an arrest.”

  Slade gritted his teeth. “I’ve got forty-eight hours before the Omaha lab finishes processing the evidence.” And either confirmed or refuted Asia’s part in Quenten’s death.

  “You’d best make good use of them.”

  “What about Beardly?” Slade jerked his head toward the investigator still chatting it up with the battalion chief.

  “Last time I checked, he reports to me, not you.” Oliver’s abrupt answer put Slade in his place. “I’m giving you a lot of leeway here. Don’t make a fool of me, Jackson.”

  “I won’t, sir.”

  “And I’m not issuing you another department vehicle. However, I’ll allow you to drive Beardly’s pickup into town, get your own and then drop his off at the office. He’ll ride back with me.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Try not to destroy this truck.”

  “Copy that.” A grin tugged at Slade’s lips, and he forced it down.

  “You’d better go while Beardly’s occupied with the fire chief.”

  Slade nodded appreciation and sprinted to the truck where Asia waited. Trey stood guard beside her door. “Let’s go.”

  “He agreed?” Trey assisted Magnum into the back seat of the crew cab. “Dog, you need a diet.”

 

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