Savannah held on to the door as he edged inside. “Please don’t hurt her.”
“Understood.” He paused, and she was frozen in place. “The police will want to talk to her today. Try to figure out what she saw and why she wasn’t also hurt.”
Savannah nodded. It had been all she had thought about as she stroked Addy’s hair through the night. “I don’t know that she can talk.”
“They’ll try to make her.”
She huffed. “I know. I deal with these sorts of matters, but never with people I love.” She willed her tears not to fall. She would not show him that sort of weakness. “She will be okay.”
“I agree.” Jett glanced past her into the living space.
Like many of the townhomes in the community, the first floor was fairly open, with stairs moving up from the entryway, and a living and dining area flowing into the galley kitchen. Upstairs were two bedrooms and a bathroom, and the basement held a den, laundry room combined with a bathroom, and a small bedroom she used as an occasional office. Right now he would find Addy curled up in the twin bed in her room upstairs, one that Savannah and Addy had spent a Saturday painting a girlie lilac. The bedroom was designed for the times Addy needed to escape home chaos, but with Savannah’s work hours, Addy couldn’t get away as often as either wanted.
Today Addy had barely moved within her nest of pillows and blankets.
Savannah would leave her there as long as she felt safe. That had to be the primary focus right now.
Jett must have read her thoughts, because he glanced up the stairs. “She’s up there?”
“Yes.”
Jett started up, keeping his steps surprisingly quiet for a man who must be 180 pounds. She followed because she didn’t know what else to do, and she still wasn’t sure she should trust him. Was he here for the story or her niece? Would he drive here for someone he didn’t know?
It had to be about the story. About worming his way into her home and up the stairs into her niece’s life.
The man hesitated at the top of the stairs in the doorway to Addy’s room.
“She’s asleep.”
Savannah nodded. “It was late when I got her home, and even later when I could talk her into bed. At first she slept curled next to me on the couch.” Savannah felt the weight all over again, the pressure of how to protect Addy.
He stood in the doorway and watched Addy, almost with fatherly concern. “We’ll let her sleep.” For now unsaid.
“You seem certain the police will need to talk to her today.”
Jett nodded, then headed back downstairs. “That’s what my source indicated earlier today. You can’t be surprised.”
“I’m not. I just wish it wasn’t necessary.” Savannah followed him down the stairs, though part of her wanted to sit beside that girl and defend her from anyone who approached.
She needed to be here and she needed to be at work, but she’d have to trust Emilie to do her work today.
“It is,” Jett said.
“What?”
“Necessary for her to talk to the police.”
“I know.” Savannah sighed and led the way to the dining room table. “Would you like something to drink? Iced tea? Water?”
“I’m good.”
Yes, he was. Fine even, but she still couldn’t reconcile the man standing in front of her with the man who wrote the article about Logan Donnelly and Dustin.
He met her gaze with his own, steady and determined.
“What?”
He shrugged. “I was going to ask you the same thing.”
“Then it’s a good thing I asked first.” The bantering had to stop. It was ridiculous in light of everything that had happened. She sank onto a chair and put her hands on the top of the table. “I can’t get ahold of Stasi.”
“Your sister?”
Savannah nodded. “She should have gone to Dustin’s by now to collect Addy for school. At the very least she should have called to see what happened.”
“Crime scene tape and police everywhere.”
“That’s what has me worried.”
“Call her again.”
“She never answers unless she needs something from me.” Savannah dialed anyway and listened to the phone ring.
Chapter Twenty
Jett watched Savannah’s expression darken as her call went to voice mail. She frowned and set the phone down but didn’t say “I told you so.” She eyed him, then stepped to her coffeemaker and made a cup. “What does your source at the police think was the cause of death?”
“I got a lot of caveats, but he said likely suicide.” He rubbed his hands over his head trying to get his brain to think. Fatigue weighed the edges of his thoughts. “He kept saying it was too early. You know he’s right.”
She studied him over her coffee cup, then shook her head. “You think it’s possible.” The words were a whispered accusation.
“Maybe Dustin did decide to end it.”
“Then you’re at fault.” Savannah scrubbed her face with her hands. “He would have never considered something like that before his name was dragged through the ink in your article.”
Jett crossed his arms, tried to imagine all she’d been through and extend a little grace, but all he could do was bite back fighting words. “There’s a lot you don’t know.”
“I could say the same.” A sound on the stairs made her turn.
A moment later Addy stood on the landing. She rubbed her eyes and looked from Savannah to him. “Who is he?”
“A friend.” Savannah’s expression indicated it pained her to say that, but he’d take it.
“I’m Jett Glover.”
“The reporter?” Addy’s nose wrinkled like she’d smelled something terrible.
“Yep.” Might as well own his name.
“Why are you here?” The girl crossed her arms in a replica of her aunt.
“I want to help.” Two sets of eyes bored through him. He held up his hands in a placating matter. “Figure out what happened to your dad.”
“That’s easy.” Addy crossed the room into Savannah’s arms and started to wail.
“I think you need to leave.”
She was right. He should leave and let her do whatever aunts did in situations like this. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t work in the background.
Logan Donnelly had died on Flight 2840.
Now Dustin Tate had died at his home.
It was a tight time frame. Jett would dig into the two seemingly unrelated events and see what he could uncover.
Questions cycled in his mind as he left Savannah’s home and headed to the newsroom. He’d interview witnesses and write an article on Logan Donnelly’s heroism after the crash. Then he’d turn his attention to the question of Dustin Tate.
The man had claimed he had evidence that would clear him. Now he was dead. But maybe the evidence was still out there. To find it he might need Savannah’s help, but he’d see what he could learn on his own first.
* * *
The knock at her door came too soon after Jett left. Savannah wanted to ignore it but found herself at the door peeking through the peephole and regretted it. Now that she saw the badges, she knew she had to answer the door, no matter how reluctantly.
“Can I help you gentlemen?” She tried to press the weariness from her voice as she held the door.
One man’s face was long like his body. He wore a trench coat over khakis and a white button-down shirt. She squinted to take in his name. “Detective Ethan Lorenze?”
“May we come in?” His voice had a high tenor that surprised her considering his large frame.
“Can I ask why?”
His cohort stepped up. “We need to talk to your niece.”
“And you are?”
The tall man looked vaguely familiar as he flashed his badge. “Detective Mark Jensen. I was at the scene last night.”
Savannah nodded as she remembered his name and their interactions from the prior night. “Why come here ins
tead of to her home?”
“Her mom said she was here.”
Huh. Stasi wouldn’t return her calls but would talk to police. Savannah wished she could make her sister come field the questions and decide what was best for Addy, but of course that would be left to Savannah, as would caring for Addy’s emotional needs. “I don’t think she’s ready to speak with anyone about last night.”
“We don’t have the luxury of waiting.” Detective Lorenze even sounded apologetic. “The option is to have her come downtown or talk here. My understanding is you’re an attorney. You can protect her interests. Or everything can take longer than it needs to and we can interview her at the precinct.” His mien was serious as he studied her. “I don’t like taking kids out of the familiar if possible.”
Savannah considered the two men. “Can you wait a minute?”
Detective Lorenze looked grumpy at the suggestion but acquiesced. “No slipping her out the back.”
“Course not.” No, what she needed was a minute to get Jaime Nichols on the phone. Her former student specialized in criminal defense, and Savannah needed to know she wasn’t making a mistake because she was too tired to think straight. Fortunately, Jaime answered on the second ring, and Savannah quickly caught her up.
Jaime was silent a moment, and when she spoke her words carried authority. “It’s a calculated risk to let them talk to her there. It will be less formal than at the precinct. Addy will still be nervous but should be more comfortable. If they start pressing her, stop the interview and ask if they plan to Mirandize her.” She sighed. “That poor girl. All we can do now is try to keep her from more trauma.”
“If I need you . . .”
“Call. It would take me an hour to get to the precinct, but I could meet you if you decide to move the interview location.”
“Thank you.” Savannah took a minute to consider her options. “So it’s best for Addy to at least start here.”
“Probably.” Jaime paused then sighed again. “The best would be to avoid it altogether, but from their perspective, they need to know what she saw.”
Savannah heard the shifting steps on her small porch. The detectives wouldn’t wait much longer in the cold. “I’ve got to go. Thanks for the advice.”
“Just remember criminal law 101. She doesn’t have to talk to them today, so don’t let them force her to do so.”
“Got it. Thanks.” She clicked off the call and then leaned her forehead against the wall. Even two days ago she couldn’t have imagined this turn of events. She returned to the front door. “Can I have a minute to prepare Addy?”
Detective Jensen shrugged as he glanced at Detective Lorenze. “Sure.”
“Thank you. You may come in, but wait here.” She trudged up the stairs to Addy’s room. The twin bed was covered with a soft gray comforter that usually lay straight and smooth across the mattress. This morning it was clutched around Addy’s shoulders.
“Who’s down there?” Addy’s words were quiet.
Savannah eased onto the edge of the bed and stroked Addy’s hair from her forehead. “There are two detectives who need to ask you questions about last night.”
Addy lurched into Savannah’s arms. “I can’t.”
“I know, sweetie. If I could keep this from you, I would.”
“I’m scared.”
Savannah squeezed her more tightly. What else could she do?
Ten minutes later, Addy was curled into the corner of the couch. The detectives had grabbed chairs from the dining table. Detective Jensen leaned forward and tried to look into Addy’s eyes. There was something calm yet intense about his presence as his coffee-colored eyes bored into her.
“Miss, I need to talk to you about what happened last night.” He glanced at the other detective when she didn’t answer, and then resituated himself as if to appear less threatening. “We’re trying to understand what happened to your dad. You’re the only person who was there, so we need to talk.”
Savannah felt Addy tremble as the girl covered her ears. “Addy, can you talk to them?”
“Do I have to?” The words were the barest whisper.
“I know it’s not easy, but if you answer their questions, they will leave faster. I promise I’ll stay with you.”
“I can try.” She struggled to sit up, and the purple circles under her eyes emphasized all she’d been through.
“Thank you for agreeing to speak with us, Miss Tate.” Detective Lorenze set a small device on the table. “I’m going to record this to make sure we don’t forget anything you say, okay?” He arched a dark eyebrow as he exchanged a glance with Jensen, then proceeded. “Addy, can you tell us why you were with your dad last night?”
“He asked me to come over. I think the plane crash scared him.” She swallowed hard. “It scared me.”
“What time did you get there?”
She frowned and then glanced at Savannah. “Aunt Savannah dropped me off about seven. Usually Dad picks me up, but he was on painkillers.”
“Do you know why?” This was from Detective Jensen.
“No.”
Savannah leaned forward. “Don’t you think it’s likely because of the crash?”
“We’ll check.” Detective Lorenze scratched a note. It should be easy for police to gain access to Dustin’s medical records if they hadn’t already. He set his pad down. “What did you do with your dad that evening?”
“We ate a pizza. Played games, but Dad said he was tired and went to bed about nine. I watched TV until ten, and then went to bed.”
“Did you hear or see your dad after he went to bed?”
Addy shook her head, blonde hair flowing around her face. “Not until I got up.”
Detective Jensen settled against his chair. “When did you get up?”
“I’m not sure. There wasn’t a clock in the room I slept in.”
“Why get up? Did something wake you?”
“I don’t know.” Addy shifted in her seat, a strained expression on her face. “Maybe I heard something. But when I got up and went into the bathroom there was blood. Everywhere. I was worried so I checked his room. That’s where I found him.”
“Found who?”
“Dad, but I don’t know if he was alone. There was a shadow.” She covered her face with her hands. “Maybe if I’d gone closer I could have helped Dad.” She shuddered as she cried, and the detectives waited while Savannah rubbed her back.
“Do you need to take a break, Addy?”
“Only if I’m done.”
The detectives exchanged a look, then Detective Lorenze leaned forward. “We have a few more questions.”
“Tell me about this shadow.” There was an edge of excitement to Detective Jensen’s voice.
“It was a shadow.”
“Size?”
“I don’t know.”
“Shape?”
“It was a shadow.”
“You have to know something, Addy.” His voice was pointed.
“I don’t. All I know is I didn’t help my dad.” Her voice had a hysterical tone to it that had Savannah sit forward between Addy and the men.
“I think that’s all, detectives.”
Detective Jensen stared at her with an incredulous expression. “We need to know what she saw.”
“Yes, but she’s getting upset, and that won’t help anyone.” Savannah stood and the detectives reluctantly followed suit. “I promise when she’s ready she can talk more.”
Detective Lorenze’s jaw firmed. “How will you decide she’s ready?”
“I honestly don’t know, but I promise if she says anything that seems like it will help you, I will communicate it.” What else could she do? Her heart ached as she looked at Addy curling back into the corner. Her niece was a turtle pulling from danger into her shell.
“Fine. Walk us to the door.” Detective Jensen’s words weren’t an invitation but a demand.
“Yes.” She followed them the few feet to the front door, the calm gray-violet paint
on the walls failing to infuse her with its usual peace.
Detective Lorenze leaned closer and pointed a finger to her chest. “If we learn you’re keeping anything from us, we will have the Commonwealth’s Attorney consider obstruction-of-justice charges. Understood?”
“That’s ridiculous.” She bit out the phrase. “I have done nothing but cooperate from the moment you arrived.” She shoved her fisted hands on her hips. “I will gladly continue to do so, but only if Addy and I are treated with respect.” She looked from one detective to the other. “She has experienced a terrible trauma, and it is my prerogative as her aunt and her attorney to call a time-out.”
Detective Lorenze stepped back. “You’re right, and I’m sorry I got out of line. Here’s my card. Call me anytime. I promise we’ll learn what happened to her father.”
Savannah gingerly accepted the card. “I want to know even more than you do. If she saw something, then Addy is in danger. But if Dustin did kill himself, then we’re worried about nothing.”
“Maybe. That’s the question we will answer.”
Chapter Twenty-One
By the early afternoon, Addy was beginning to ask questions Savannah wasn’t sure how to answer. They had moved to the basement and Captain Marvel played on the TV in the background while they sipped homemade hot chocolate and ate kettle corn from a Pinterest recipe. A space heater whirred in the corner, but each of them had cuddled in a fuzzy blanket in cool pastels. A few drops of chocolate had slipped from Addy’s mug to the couch, but Savannah didn’t care. Not with everything that was spinning through their lives.
The girl pulled her knees up and placed her feet on the narrow coffee table before readjusting her blanket. Savannah watched her out of the corner of her eye and braced for the silence to be broken. She held the remote under the blanket to turn down the volume or stop the movie in an instant.
“Can we have the funeral this week?” The teen hiccupped at the end of the words as if barely holding back tears.
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