Reckless

by Selena Montgomery

  Just enough information to paint a picture and place the weapon in Eliza’s hand, Luke noticed. He dropped behind his desk and plucked the receiver from its base. “Caleb Matthews, please,” he told the operator.

  A tinny voice recited the number and Luke punched it into the phone. On the second ring, Caleb answered. “Caleb Matthews.”

  Luke heard a hint of irritation, wondered who else had been bothering the D.A. this morning. “Matthews, this is Sheriff Calder.”

  The irritation shifted into wariness. “Sheriff. Didn’t expect to hear from you on a Sunday morning.” He waited a beat. “I assume you’ve seen the paper this morning.” As had he. Apparently, his threat of a gag order hadn’t scared Graves into better behavior, an oversight he’d fix on Tuesday. “Our star witness has been busy.”

  “Very talkative,” Luke acknowledged sardonically. “I suppose Graves and I have put you in a tough spot with this one.”

  Caleb gave a low chuckle. “I must admit, Hallden isn’t a dull town. Haven’t been in this kind of turf war before, though. Usually, this kind of wrestling match is between locals and the feds.”

  “Run into much of that on the coast?”

  “With drug trafficking, I’ve had my share of arguments with the Justice Department.” He cleared his throat. “But my checkered past with the feds isn’t the reason you’ve called.”

  Luke fingered the paper with Doc’s soulful mien in four-color spread. Fancy for the Telegraph. “I’ve ordered my deputies to pick up Doc Reed and Tony Delgado for questioning as material witnesses.”

  “Graves has made an arrest in the case, Sheriff. You could give the defense grounds for appeal.”

  “I don’t agree with Graves that Eliza Faraday is guilty.”

  “Cop instinct or something else?” The question was bald, but direct. “Graves has made some pejorative allegations about you and Ms. Jameson.” Anticipating Luke’s explosion, he inserted mildly, “I won’t allow gossip to dictate my prosecutorial decisions, Calder. But two eyewitnesses and a link to the weapon are pretty strong evidence.”

  “Not enough to convict.”

  Caleb had the same concern, but the choice had been taken out of his hands. His attempt to put the case on hold had been thwarted by the D.A. after a plaintive whine from the police chief at 8 A.M. “Graves’s arrest may have been premature, but he’s got the big three.”

  Means, motive, and opportunity. Luke had brought successful cases to D.A.s with less. “As long as I still have an open case file, I intend to pursue my own theory of the case.”

  “Want to let me in on it?” Caleb challenged, displeasure clear.

  Luke smiled, understanding the other man’s annoyance. “Not yet. But you play it fair, Matthews, so I wanted to let you know what I’m doing.”

  “In the spirit of sharing, you should know I intend to call you as a witness for the preliminary hearing. As the chief investigator on the scene, you’ve got to describe what you found.”

  “I found a dead man and a lot of reasons to doubt that Eliza Faraday is the killer,” he warned.

  “All I’m asking for is that you tell the truth.”

  His tone left no doubt he questioned Graves’s ability to do the same. Luke sympathized, and found himself offering advice. “Watch out for him, Matthews. Do what you have to on this case, but keep your eyes open.”

  “Thanks for the warning, Sheriff. Have a nice day.”

  “Did you see anyone outside the motel?” Kell stood in the study, pacing the thick carpet. “Anyone at all?”

  “No. I was scared, certainly, but not witless,” snapped Eliza. “I looked out the door and there was no one outside. I walked quickly to my car and drove directly home.”

  “Any cars pass you on the street?”

  “I don’t think so,” she admitted. “Once I started driving, I concentrated on making it to the Center as fast as possible. I needed to check on the children.”

  “They were all in bed?”

  “Yes, every one of them. But the knife was mine, I thought, so I assumed one of them had beaten me home.” She leaned forward, voice edging toward hostile. “I don’t believe the boy saw me. I’m certain he didn’t.”

  Careful of the fraying temper, Kell stopped near the desk, changing her tone. “Did you ever have any run-ins with Doc? Maybe he tried to recruit some of the boys for Clay?”

  Eliza sniffed disdainfully. “Doc Reed knew better than to ply his trade here. He rarely stopped by, unless Tony brought him.”

  “Does he have any reason to lie about what he saw?”

  “Money. A favor from the chief of police,” Eliza volunteered wearily. “Perhaps I should simply tell the police exactly what happened. I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “You know as well as I do that’s not the answer. Graves and others have put a tremendous amount of effort into making you look guilty.” She pointed to the open copy of the Telegraph splayed across the immaculate desk. “If they held back this statement until now, Graves must be feeling some pressure.”

  “I still don’t understand why they’ve targeted me.” Eliza lurched from her chair, hazel eyes bewildered. “I’ve operated this Center without blemish for decades. Until now, I didn’t realize I had an enemy that hated me so badly, he’d try to ruin my life.”

  Kell had pondered the same thought since leaving the building she and Luke discovered. “Mrs. F, do you have a copy of the trust documents for the foundation?”

  “Of course.” Eliza opened a drawer to a filing cabinet and removed a thick binder. “I meet with the bank annually to review our investments and operations. Here are the annual reports from the past three years. The rest are in storage, but I can retrieve them.”

  Kell accepted the binder and sank onto the settee. She opened the cover and replied absently, “Yes, if you could get them.”

  “Certainly,” Eliza replied, but she halted at the door. A wave of affection rushed over her, calming nerves jangled by tension. Of all her children, Kell had been the one who pretended best. To be independent and aloof, but she’d always been the ringleader and the one Eliza counted on to watch after the others. Losing her had broken Eliza’s heart. Kell wouldn’t know that the scholarships for college and law school fellowships bound her to Eliza during those missing years.

  She regretted the distance, the birthdays celebrated alone. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to regret the woman she’d become. Confident and accomplished, with a compassion she tried vainly to disguise.

  “Mrs. F?” Kell glanced up and saw her paused in the doorway. “Something wrong?”

  “No. Nothing at all.” With a slight smile, she turned away. “I’ll just be a moment.”

  Doc Reed slouched low in the ladder-back chair, legs stretched out beneath the wooden table. The unblemished surface tempted him to scratch his initials into the top, but the stern officer standing in the corner gave him pause. Doc spent his fair share of time in rooms like this, usually waiting for his mom to come and get him. At eighteen, he’d aged out of misdemeanors solved by parental tears and into more serious matters that required lawyers and hearings. But he’d bought himself a get-out-of jail free card and got his picture in the paper to boot.

  His new best friend happened to control the comings and goings at the police department, a good friend for a man like him to have. Doc thumbed his nose and sniffed loudly. “Any time y’all want to start things up, I’m ready. I’m on a schedule.”

  Outside the door, Luke examined his prey. Faded jeans sagged low on hips covered with plaid boxers, a deliberate display. The tanned arms bore the musculature of a regular basketball player, the face bespoke several fights won and lost. A consummate bully and liar, they’d met more than once. Youthful indiscretions escalated steadily into petty crime and low-level drug sales.

  Luke swung into the room and dismissed the deputy he’d placed on task to guard Doc. “Harold Reed?” he read the name from the file he carried. Cajoling didn’t work with Doc. Antagonism did.


  Sneering, he corrected, “Name’s Doc.”

  “License says Harold.” Luke dropped the thick file onto the table, but didn’t sit. “Harold Francis Reed. Prefer me to call you Francis?”

  “Prefer your teeth in your throat?”

  Luke leaned in until their foreheads nearly touched, eyes level, voice a hum of menace. “You threatening me, Francis? Please say yes.”

  Doc glared at the sheriff, calculating the odds if he rushed him. He was tall, but the sheriff had him by at least five inches. Bigger than him too. Insult yielded to reality. “Name’s Doc,” he repeated sulkily.

  Easing back, Luke flipped open the file to the article he’d clipped from the paper. “Francis, I want you to tell me a story.”

  “What kind of story?”

  “Make-believe. Like the one you told the reporter.”

  Bristling, Doc folded his arms. “I told the reporter exactly what I saw. That bitch Mrs. Faraday running out of the motel. Carrying a knife.”

  “Describe the knife for me.”

  Ready for the question, Doc retorted, “I didn’t see the whole thing. Just the shiny part, the blade. She was trying to hide it, but I could still see it.”

  “In the middle of the night?”

  “Streetlights,” he responded smugly. “Plenty of light.”

  “What time did you see her?”

  “Around one. I was already outside, waiting on my ride, when she came flying out with the knife.”

  “One A.M.,” Luke repeated. “Who was coming to pick you up?”

  “A friend.”

  “You have friends?” Luke filled his tone with disbelief. “Why didn’t you drive yourself?”

  “’Cause I don’t have a car.” A situation that Graves promised to remedy soon. “So I called one of my boys to get me.”

  “Which one?” He held a pen poised over his notes. “Give me a name and a number.”

  Doc reached for a name, someone with a car. “Tony Delgado,” he blurted out. “Yep, Tony came to get me.”

  “Tony and Clay were tight?”

  “Naw. Tony was a lightweight. Couldn’t hang with Clay and me.” The smirk flashed a single gold tooth at Luke. “But he does what I tell him to.”

  “Like pick you up in the middle of the night?” Luke smiled then, a thin spreading of the lips that held only threat. “You sure about that?”

  “I already said so.” Doc squirmed in his chair, feeling the first trickle of unease. “Tony came to pick me up, and while I was standing on the curb, I saw Mrs. Faraday.”

  “Now, that’s fascinating, Francis.”

  “What is?”

  “That Tony gave you a ride.”

  Knowing he was caught, he improvised. “Um, he didn’t.”

  Luke straightened. “Didn’t give you a ride? You said he did.”

  Doc shook his head, grinning in triumph. “No, I said I was waiting for him to come pick me up.”

  “But he didn’t?”

  “No. He never showed.”

  “I thought he did what you told him to? Which is it, Francis? Does Tony do what you tell him or did he leave you standing on the street corner like a hooker?”

  Flustered, Doc cast about for a suitable lie. “His mom wouldn’t let him come. He couldn’t do anything about that.”

  “Then how did you get home, Francis? After you see Mrs. Faraday running out of the motel with a knife, after your friend leaves you stranded on the street, exactly how did you get home?” Luke rose and circled behind him. “Did you go upstairs to Clay’s apartment and ask him for a ride? He had that nice car, that Hummer. Did you bang on his door and when he didn’t answer, did you go inside?”

  Seeing the trap, Doc sprang from his chair, bumping into the table. “No way, man! No way you’re gonna make me seem like I killed Clay! I want a lawyer!”

  Luke advanced on him, forcing his back to the wall. He crowded, but did not touch the younger man. “You’re certainly entitled to an attorney.”

  Doc feinted right, but Luke countered him easily. Unable to get around him, Doc complained, “Then I want to go. You can’t keep me here if I’m not under arrest.”

  “I can if you’re a material witness to a murder. But, you do have the right to an attorney now,” Luke explained softly, forcing Doc to strain to hear. “See, Francis, you are the last person to see Clay alive except for the killer. That makes you a suspect, not a witness. Whoever is telling you what to say already knows this. But I’ll go and get you a lawyer.”

  Doc heard suspect and his stomach knotted. He grabbed Luke’s sleeve, stopping him. “I didn’t do no murder, man,” he whined. “It wasn’t me.”

  Before Doc could finish, Graves burst into the room. Florid color turned his skin a motley hue, and the broken capillaries on his nose deepened to purple. “Don’t say another word,” he screeched to Doc.

  Grateful for the distraction, Doc ducked under Luke’s arm and skittered behind Chief Graves. “I didn’t say anything,” he groveled, knowing in a few more seconds, he would have.

  Rounding on Luke, Graves huffed out, “Intimidating a witness. I’ll be on the phone to Judge Majors about this, you mark my words.”

  Calmly, Luke propped a hip on the edge of the table. The livid interrogator disappeared, and he offered meditatively, “You’ve been telling anyone who’ll listen, Chief, that I haven’t been sufficiently zealous in my pursuit of Griffin’s killer. I can’t imagine the judge objecting to my interview of a material witness, can you?”

  Trapped, Graves blustered, “I’m taking him with me. He needs to review his statement.”

  “By all means,” Luke invited, rising and standing at the open doorway. “He definitely needs to practice.”

  Doc flushed red as Graves dragged him from the room. His sagging jeans fell lower, tripping him as he stumbled out.

  Luke followed slowly. “Is Tony in the other room?”

  “Yes, sir,” the deputy responded, eyes dancing with merriment. “Graves left with Doc. Boy barely kept his pants up.”

  Luke grinned, “He waived his rights. If Graves hadn’t shown, he’d have spilled his guts.”

  “Graves has good timing, then.”

  “Yes, he does,” Luke agreed, a thought occurring. “Evan, you’re friends with Lancy at the police station, aren’t you?”

  “Went through the academy together.”

  “Give him a call and see if you can’t get us a copy of the intake log for the night of the Griffin murder.”

  “Sure thing, Sheriff. Should I tell him why?”

  “Nope. And if he can keep the request to himself, I’d appreciate it.”

  Luke knocked on the Center’s front door a few minutes past dusk. When it opened, four curious pairs of eyes greeted him, none of them belonging to Kell. “Hey, kids. Is Kell around?”

  “What’s behind your back?” Jorden asked baldly. “Is it a gun?”

  “No.”

  “Is it a grenade? I saw this cool thing about grenades on television. Once you pull the pin, it blows up. If you don’t let it go in time, your hand blows up too.”

  “No, Jorden, it’s not a grenade either.”

  “Then why are you hiding it?” Fear struck and Jorden stepped forward belligerently. “Is it handcuffs? Are you gonna arrest Kell?”

  Embarrassed, Luke brought the clutch of tulips around for inspection. “No, I’m not here to arrest her. They’re flowers. For Kell.”

  “Oh, they’re beautiful,” Nina sighed.

  Faith smirked, “Really pretty, Sheriff. Flowers for your girlfriend. You going on a date?”

  “A real one, for a change. If one of you nosy urchins will get her for me.”

  “I’ll do it,” Casey piped up and ran for the guest room. She banged on the door. “Kell! Kell! Sheriff Luke has flowers!”

  Kell opened the door and saw Luke standing in the foyer, surrounded by more of the children. Tulips wrapped in paper bloomed in a profusion of color. Smoothing at her hair, she crossed the floor to g
reet him. She stopped beside the children, aware of their rapt attention. “Hello, Luke.”

  “Oh, to hell with this.” He pushed the flowers into Nina’s hand and reached for Kell. Seconds later, his mouth closed over hers in a searing kiss, that had the girls giggling and the boys making a variety of noises, from disgust to encouragement.

  Summoned by the noise, Eliza joined the throng at the door. “Luke.”

  He broke the kiss and smiled at Eliza. “I’d like to steal Kell away for a picnic, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all.” Eliza plucked the tulips from Nina’s reluctant grasp, and shooed the kids into the family room. “Kell, Luke, you go and have fun.”

  Before Kell could speak, Luke bundled her into the truck, a picnic basket at her feet. “What’s all this?” she asked sweetly.

  “A real date. Our first one.” He twined their fingers. “No interrogation or sleuthing. Just you, me, fried chicken, and a good bottle of Chianti. If you’ll have me.”

  Pleased, touched, she leaned forward for another kiss, a soft one that sank him deeper still into love. “Thank you,” she whispered, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “For what?”

  “A perfect evening.”

  CHAPTER 28

  On Monday morning, Jorden answered the door at the Center. “Hey, Sheriff Luke.” He bit his lip, then launched like a missile. Luke caught him mid-flight, and unexpectedly strong arms wrapped themselves around his neck, tightening fiercely.

  “You said you’d get her home, and you did,” the boy mumbled gratitude into Luke’s shoulder. “I’da said so last night, but there were girls around.”

  “I made you a promise, didn’t I?” Luke patted the thin back, felt the relief sigh out. “But we’re not done yet, Jorden.”

  Jorden loosened his hold and Luke set him down, a hand resting on the bony shoulder. “Kell has to go to court with her,” he announced solemnly. “Nina says she’s real good, though.”