Table of Contents
Murderous Intent and Deadly Desires
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Authors Notes
Murderous Intent and Deadly Desires
By Angela C Blackmoore
Copyright 2017 by Angela C Blackmoore, All Rights Reserved
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real persons, events, or places are purely coincidental. All rights reserved.
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Chapter 1
“I’m not sure I’d go in there if I were you, Abby,” Sheriff Pearson said from the rocking chair he was sitting in. Despite the cold of January, he was out on the porch of the graceful, old craftsman house that Mayor Tomlin called home. The house itself was set on the edge of town on a large lot that was well maintained.
Abby was pleased to see it reflected the man quite well. Clean, well kept, and not ostentatious in the least. She wondered if that would continue. After the town hall, the mayor had been despondent in the extreme. During the meeting, Don Buckshire had called for the town council to vote for removing the mayor, or at least to put it up for an emergency town vote. It had hit the mayor hard, and he’d almost collapsed in on himself. The only reason the vote didn’t happen was Don himself had been murdered during the break before the vote.
That was the only debatable bright spot in an otherwise terrible night. The faction of council members that had been planning to oust the mayor had been stopped cold since they no longer had a majority. A tie vote, which is what it would have been if they had voted, wouldn’t qualify to initiate the emergency proceedings. Senator Clark had been livid and when given the chance, he’d stormed out of the high school gym and left town as quickly as he could.
Despite the stroke of luck, the mayor had not pulled out of his fugue state, and from the look on the sheriff’s face, he still hadn’t, and it was a week later.
“Is he still upset?” Abby asked as she held onto the plate of cookies she and her grandmother, Hazel Morgan, had baked.
The sheriff gave a low chuckle and one side of his mouth turned up in sardonic amusement. “Upset isn’t the word I’d use,” he said. “I’d probably say throwing a tantrum, or figuring out how to get ahold of more alcohol without having to actually leave his house.”
“Is it that bad?” Abby said, sitting down in a chair opposite the sheriff. She peeled back part of the tinfoil and pulled out one of the cookies, nibbling on it distractedly. “I’ll be honest, Sheriff, I just don’t know the man well enough. He always seemed so solid.”
Sheriff Pearson shrugged and nodded. “Usually he is, but you have to understand, Abby. He dedicated his life to this town a long time ago. Now, out of the blue, more than a few of them plotted to kick him to the curb. Truthfully, I don’t blame him for being upset. I’m half tempted to encourage him to quit and then follow him.”
“What do you mean, Sheriff?”
“I mean,” the sheriff said, leaning forward and reaching for a cookie off the plate Abby was holding, “that sometimes you have to look out for yourself. Sometimes, you have to try to avoid the kick to the face, or at least the second one. How long do you think I’d last after the mayor was voted out? I’m sure my turn was next.”
Abby frowned and shook her head. “Are you saying you’re giving up?” she asked, watching as he nibbled at his own cookie thoughtfully.
The man didn’t answer for a few moments, content with savoring the taste of Hazel’s baking while he stared out over the well-kept lawn. When he finally answered, his voice was soft. “I don’t know, Abby. I never thought of myself as a quitter, but these past few weeks have been difficult. At the town hall, I didn’t recognize half of the town. They just seemed like a mob that smelled blood in the water. More than a few of them were taking pleasure in Gil’s distress. That’s not who I signed up to protect.”
“Sheriff, you can’t abandon us,” Abby said firmly. “I understand that I’ve only been here a few months, but we need you. Even those idiots that think they’re doing the right thing by falling into the senator’s trap. They don’t realize they’ve been tricked by that weasel, and that’s when they need you and the mayor the most.”
The sheriff glanced at her and then took a deep breath. “Maybe so,” he said, taking another bite of the cookie. “Maybe I need to think on it a bit more.”
Abby sighed and leaned back in the chair, looking up at the porch ceiling. “I sure hope you do, because I’m not altogether certain that wasn’t part of the senator’s plan, too. That would be exactly what he wants, don’t you think? We can’t let him win.”
The sheriff raised an eyebrow and tilted his head, nodding again. “Another good point. He is behind all of this, and I wouldn’t put it past him to have worked our feeling sorry for ourselves into his schemes. If it’s one thing I want, it’s for that weasel not to win.” He slapped his thighs and gave her a firm look. “I’ll pull myself out of my own wallow pit, then. You just can’t let a man feel sorry for himself, can you?”
“Do you think that speech will work on the mayor?” she asked.
“Right now?” the sheriff said, smirking at her through his bushy mustache. “Not even a little. I think Gil needs to wallow a bit more. Besides, he’s not gonna be sober enough to listen today. He was singing some crappy country songs and throwing empty bottles at me when I went in there.”
“Really?” Abby asked with a disbelieving look on her face. “It’s not even noon.”
“Yep, but he’s out of alcohol now, and I have his keys,” the sheriff said. “I can take him in a fight, so he’s not going anywhere to get more. Don’t worry, Mrs. Morgan, I’ll be here to keep an eye on him.”
“Won’t that interfere in the investigation, Sheriff?” Abby asked.
“Nope,” the sheriff said in his slow, deep drawl. “I’m a suspect, Abby. I can’t investigate this. Lanie is in charge of the investigation, now. She was the only one with a verifiable alibi because she never left the gym.”
“Lanie?” Abby asked, picturing the pixyish blond deputy in her mind. She had become a friend in the time Abby had been in Red Pine Falls and had even shared a few of her adventures.
“She’ll do fine,” Sheriff Pearson said. “It’s either that, or let the state police take over and I don’t think we want that. With our luck, we’d get the detectives 'dumb and dumber' assigned to us. In fact, I’m pretty sure we’d get them, and I know that wouldn’t be good.”
Abby nodded, remembering detectives Mike and Ed. They had come to town with Senator Clark on a manhunt for Rob Morgan, Hazel’s brother, and it had ended up with all of the state troope
rs, the detectives, and Superintendent Ketch outside of the Morgan family house, pointing guns at the sheriff and Abby. That had been one of the scariest times in her life, but they’d been saved by the mayor in the nick of time.
The second incident had only been last month when the good detectives had pulled their car over in the middle of nowhere. If it hadn’t been for the timely intervention of Robert Carrington, a lawyer and family friend, she was sure they would have done something violent to Gabe. There was no proof it would have gone past a simple case of harassment, but she remembered the look in Detective Mike’s eyes, and she doubted it would have stopped there.
“Good call,” Abby said with conviction. “I’m pretty sure that would have been a disaster.”
“Now, instead of trying to talk sense into our drunken leader, why don’t you do me another favor?” the sheriff asked. At Abby’s nod, he continued. “Go over to the jailhouse and talk to Lanie. She needs her nerves settled and someone to bolster her confidence. Besides, maybe you can do a little of your hocus pocus and help her solve the case.”
“I thought you told me to stay out of police business,” Abby said carefully as she stood and passed him the plate of cookies.
“Maybe its reverse psychology,” the sheriff said sardonically as he took the plate and put it on a small table next to his rocking chair. “Besides, I’m not a stupid man, Mrs. Morgan. Even an old dog learns new tricks.”
Abby gave the sheriff a look but didn’t answer as she stepped off the porch and headed toward Gabe’s truck. He’d let her borrow it since she couldn’t get the PT Cruiser off the island due to the small bridge having been closed. That was another thing that was causing deep consternation, but right now, she had bigger fish to fry. Apparently, one of them was wearing a deputy’s badge.
Chapter 2
The jailhouse was a large, boxy looking building that looked exactly like what it was. Despite its appearance, Abby was thankful for how it had been constructed. Utilitarian, but tough. Because of it, the bikers had been unable to break in and kidnap Frank Millerson, the ex-bank manager who it turned out had stolen quite a bit of their money. Despite all the years that Frank had been laundering their money, the bikers didn't take kindly to him stealing it.
The only thing that had saved him was the presence of former mobster John Troutdale, two of his men, Deputy Lanie, and the very solid construction of the building itself. Whoever had decided to make the windows bulletproof and put steel doors on the place was all right in Abby’s book. Still, when she walked in, the familiar smells and sounds of their local police department greeted her.
Deputy Sam was at the counter where Lanie usually sat and smiled when Abby came in the door. “What can you do for you, Abby?”
“Is Lanie here?” Abby asked, looking around at the desks. She didn’t spot the deputy, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t out on patrol.
“Ah, Lanie,” Sam said. “She’s out in the motor pool talking to the new patrol car.”
Abby raised an eyebrow. “Talking to the new patrol car?”
Sam laughed and nodded. “Yep. More like bitching at it. She’s letting the investigation get to her. Maybe you can talk her out of feeling sorry for herself.”
“Yeah, the sheriff asked me to come over here and talk to her. I just didn’t know it was that bad. Why is she feeling sorry for herself?”
“She doesn’t think she’s ready, but if any of us are, it’s her,” Sam said as he buzzed her into the back. “She’s been the sheriff’s star pupil for a while now but she won’t listen to us. She just thinks we’re trying to pick on her.”
Abby patted him on the arm. “It’s almost like you all are a big family, but I’ll talk to her. Which way to the motor pool?”
Sam pointed toward one of the doors toward the back of the station. “That way,” he said. “She’ll be toward the back with the new car. I don’t know what it will do to her if the sheriff sends it back. She’s taken a shine to it.”
“I thought she didn’t like it. She said something to me about it having so many computers it could probably talk to her.”
Sam laughed. “It can, believe it or not. Door is ajar,” he pantomimed with a fake robot accent. “Seriously, it does that, but that’s not why she likes it. I’m sure you’ll see when you go back there. It’s rather dreamy as cars go. I think Reggie might have a run for his money.”
“What kind of car is it?” Abby asked.
Sam ignored her question and shooed her toward the door before going back to doing whatever paperwork he had been working on. Abby grimaced, but pushed through the door and was immediately assaulted by the smell of motor oil and garage.
There was a distinctive smell to this kind of environment that Abby remembered well from when she had been on base. A few times she’d visited her now-deceased husband in the garage of his platoon for one reason or another, and it had smelled exactly like this although on a far larger scale.
She had no trouble picking out the car that Sam was talking about, and she felt her eyebrows raise as she laid eyes on it. It was not a normal patrol car. Instead of being the boring but capable sedan that made up the bulk of the police department’s fleet, this one had the lines of a fierce sports car. Coupled with the black and gold paint scheme and dash mounted lights, it was in another league altogether.
She stopped to admire it for a few moments until the driver side window rolled down and Lanie stuck her head out. “Abby? What are you doing in here?”
Abby grinned and walked toward the car window. “Well, I came to see you, but now I think I should leave you two alone.”
Lanie blinked, clearly not grasping Abby’s joke for a few moments, but finally she seemed to get it and shook her head. “Oh, the car! Yes, it is quite nice,” she said, sliding one of her hands along the steering wheel.
As Abby leaned down, she could see that besides the glowing dashboard lights, there were two computers that were inset on floating-arm platforms. She had no clue about anything that was displayed, but it did look very futuristic. “It’s something else, that’s for sure. What are you going to do when the sheriff sends it back?”
Lanie gave out a huge sigh and shrugged. “Nothing, I suppose. I know why he’s going to do it, but can you imagine speeding down the road in this bad boy?”
“I thought police were supposed to follow the law and not go speeding,” Abby said, making air quotes as she said the last two words.
“You know what I mean,” Lanie said, grinning. “Come on, get in. You’ve got to feel these seats. They’re like pillows on my bottom!”
Abby laughed and shook her head, standing up and going around to the other door. “I’m not sure if that’s supposed to make me want to sit in them or not.” Still, as she opened the door and slid in, Abby’s eyes opened wide.
“See?” Lanie said, grinning. “They’re heated and cooled, too.”
“Cooled? How does that work?”
Lanie shrugged. “No clue, but I am going to miss this car during summer. It gets so hot even with air conditioning.”
Abby shook her head. “Lanie, you don’t know what hot really is unless you’ve lived in Phoenix like I have. It’s a dry heat, but you have no idea how bad it gets in the middle of summer.”
“Well, I know it’s not the same thing, but that doesn’t mean it’s pleasant to sit on leather seats when the car’s been sitting out in the sun. Not fun at all.”
“That will still happen with this car, won’t it?” Abby asked.
“Nope. There’s an app that lets you turn on the car and start the air conditioner.”
“Ugh, Lanie, you’re falling in love with this car,” Abby said. “You know it’s just going to break your heart when it has to go.”
Lanie looked away and caressed the steering wheel again. “A girl can hope. Maybe something will happen and we’ll get to keep her.”
“Oh boy,” Abby said, rolling her eyes. “Well, as much fun as it is to watch you drool over a car, that’s not why I c
ame by. I went over to the mayor’s house and saw the sheriff sitting out on the porch. He mentioned that you were kind of down on things.”
“Oh…” Lanie said, frowning. “Did he mention he put me in charge of the investigation? I was his only choice. He must be disappointed in me.”
Abby shook her head and put her hand on Lanie’s arm. “No. I don’t think that’s it at all. Why do you think he’d be disappointed in you?”
“Because it was either me or give the investigation over to the crooked state troopers. It just doesn’t feel like I’ve earned this,” Lanie said dejectedly.
“I think you’re missing something,” Abby said, giving Lanie a cross look. “I’m not even a police officer and I can see that there are other options. Options that the sheriff didn’t take.”
Lanie looked over with a quizzical expression on her face. “What do you mean? There are no other options. There’s no one in the state police department that we can trust. Right now, that would be like handing the senator a win.”
Abby pursed her lips before answering. She wasn’t a police officer and maybe she had it wrong, but in the end she decided she’d rather get it wrong than let a friend miss an important part of the puzzle. “What about those other sheriff’s from Tillamook and Yamhill that came to help with the bikers? Why wouldn’t Sheriff Pearson just ask one of them to come over and handle the investigation?”
Lanie blinked and her eyes drifted as she thought about what Abby had just said. After a moment, she spoke. “I…didn’t think of that! Hey! Maybe I’m not just the best of bad choices!” Lanie said excitedly as she grabbed Abby’s arm and crowed. “Haha! Abby! You are a genius!”
“Yes, I am!” Abby said, smiling at her friend’s renewed sense of worth. “Now, the question is, have you been working on the investigation or just feeling sorry for yourself for the past week?”
“Heck no!” Lanie said, pulling out a pad and flipping it open. “The other deputies and I have been interviewing the way-too-many suspects and cataloging if they had anyone who could corroborate where they were during that hour when Don was killed.” She was about to go on when she stopped and slapped the notebook closed, giving Abby an exasperated look. “Oh, corn nuggets, Abby. I can’t go telling you what I’m doing! This is exactly why the sheriff gets upset with you! Somehow you just weasel your way into these investigations!”
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