22
The moment I shut off the engine next to Courtney’s pink van, she came storming out the front door of her house. She was dressed as if she was going on a date, with a tight skirt and thin blouse, complete with high heels, yet the expression on her face was anything but date friendly. I debated on simply leaving and avoiding the whole mess, but decided it best if I faced it now so she didn’t end up showing up at my front door later.
I got out of my van and waited for her to reach me.
“How could you do this to me?” she shouted. Her voice was so high-pitched, it caused me to wince.
“I didn’t do anything to you, Courtney. This is all on you.”
“I’m not the one who told Duke to stop helping We Luv Pets! You poached him! I know it!” She stomped one high-heeled foot. “Just because your family can’t handle their own business, doesn’t mean you need to interfere in mine.”
I took two calming breaths before I spoke so I didn’t end up yelling. “Duke made up his own mind. Maybe you should have thought about the consequences of your actions before you went and dropped off someone else’s dog at my place.”
Her mouth slammed shut so hard, I was afraid she might break a tooth.
“Look, Courtney, I don’t have a problem with you.” Mostly. “I’m perfectly content to let each of us run our rescues how we see fit.” I held up a finger when she opened her mouth to speak. “But . . .” I eyed her, made sure she was listening, before going on. “I will not tolerate you trying to sabotage me. Duke left you because of how you were acting. It had nothing to do with me. It’s all on you.”
A flurry of emotions washed over Courtney’s face as I spoke. Anger. Guilt. Embarrassment. Something akin to pity had me softening my tone.
“I’m sorry about Duke, I really am. He stood by you for a long time, but you finally pushed him too far. Maybe if you find a way to work with me, rather than against me, perhaps he’ll come back. Just don’t try to lay this at my feet.”
Courtney swayed where she stood, as if rocked by my little speech. I hoped that some of my words finally hit home and she’d extend a truce, and that, somehow, despite everything, we’d find a way to coexist.
My hopes were, of course, in vain.
Disgust splashed across Courtney’s face. “I can’t believe you’d try to blame this on me,” she said. “I can’t believe you don’t realize what you’ve done.”
“What I’ve done?”
“Call Duke. Tell him to come back to me, where he belongs.”
“I’m not going to do that, Courtney.”
Her eyes flashed in anger. “You’d better.” Another foot stomp. “I won’t take this lying down, Liz Denton. I will take everything from you.” Her grin was practically a sneer. “Even Manny, if that’s what it takes.”
Before I could sputter out another word, Courtney spun on her heel and marched back to her house. At the door, she shot me a withering look, before she stormed inside. Her entire house rattled when she slammed the door closed.
“Why did you bother calling me out here if you’re just going to walk away?” I shouted after her, but if I expected a response, I didn’t get it.
I knew I shouldn’t have been surprised by how the conversation had gone, but I was. I expected accusations, sure. I expected some anger too. But to flat out ignore her own role in what happened?
Then again, this was Courtney I was dealing with. I’m not sure she’s ever taken responsibility for anything in her life.
Since there was nothing else I could do, I climbed back into my van. Maybe after a few days, she’d see reason. There was no reason we couldn’t find middle ground.
Putting Courtney out of my mind, I backed out of her driveway and focused on bigger troubles.
Thankfully, the Grey Falls police station was much quieter this time around. There were no women protesting outside, no hint that anyone of any importance might be locked away. I did wonder how that had panned out, but decided that I didn’t really care. I parked, got out of my van, and then headed for the station.
When I reached the doors, I did note a Travis McCoy sticker had been stuck to the door and a glossy substance wiped over it. Someone had tried to pick it off, but whatever the glossy stuff was, it prevented easy removal, so only the tiniest corner was missing.
With an amused shake of my head, I entered the police station. Cops were lounging around, some working, others merely gabbing. A few heads rose when I entered, and then lowered again when they realized I wasn’t anyone important.
I started for the desk where Officer Mohr was seated, looking miserable, when I heard a voice from down the hall.
“I know.” Detective Cavanaugh sounded flustered. “I’m doing everything I can.”
There was no response I could hear, so I assumed he was on the phone.
“I get that. I understand. I will.” It was followed by a growl that told me he must have hung up.
A few moments later, Detective Cavanaugh himself strode down the hall, into the reception area. He paused when he saw me, then veered over to where I stood.
“Mrs. Denton,” he said. “Is there something I can help you with?”
“Is everything okay, Detective?” Cavanaugh was looking pale, and his eyes had dark circles beneath them. From the tone of his voice, I knew for a fact that things were indeed not okay.
“It’s fine,” he said with a sigh. “I’m fine. It’s just . . .” He glanced back to where a few other cops were pretending like they weren’t listening in, before he gently took me by the arm and led me to the door. “Meetings.”
“Meetings?”
“Every day, almost every damn hour. I can’t get anything done.”
“What about the investigation into Joe Danvers’s murder?”
“I’m doing what I can, but Mr. Wright has claimed most of my attention for the last couple of days.”
“Mr. Wright?” I asked. “As in Sterling Wright?”
“The one and the same.”
“Isn’t he a civilian?”
“He is,” Cavanaugh said. I noted there was some resentment in his voice. “But he’s an important member of our community. He’s on the city council. Hell, he runs the council. If he decides he wants to involve himself in something, no one is going to stop him.”
Something clicked in my head then. “He was at Joe’s house, wasn’t he?”
Cavanaugh nodded. “He’s taken an interest in the case. Says it hurts the image of Grey Falls that this hasn’t been wrapped up as of yet. Apparently, he was around when Christine first vanished and is using that to put pressure on us to get things done faster.”
“Doesn’t he realize how forcing you into meetings is impeding your investigation?” I asked, more annoyed than anything. If Cavanagh wasn’t working the case, then who was? Me? Chester Chudzinski? Even if we found something, there wasn’t much we could do about it without police support.
“He does.” Cavanaugh ran his fingers through his short-cropped hair. “But city business comes first, apparently. Once I finish with the meetings, I do what I can, but by then, everyone is either asleep, or too far into their drinks to be of any use to me.”
I considered adding a visit to Sterling Wright to my list of things to do, but decided against it. I got why he was angry. Wright had been on the council forever—likely was back when Christine first vanished—and now that Joe was dead, the failure to find her, or prove Joe’s innocence, had to make the police look bad, which, in turn, made the town look bad.
But why did that matter to him so much?
Higher aspirations. If he involved himself in the case and Joe’s murder could be solved, it would make him look good.
“I’ve got a meeting to attend,” Cavanaugh said, cutting into my thoughts. “If you’re here to see me, you’d better spit it out now, or else you’ll have to wait.”
It took me a moment to align my thoughts. “It’s about Joe Danvers’s murder.”
Cavanaugh groaned, but didn’t look surprised. “All right. Out with it.”
“I ran into someone who might have seen something the night of the murder.” I told him what Jack told me about the car he’d seen, without actually using Jack’s name. I didn’t want him to get into trouble for avoiding the police.
“He didn’t get a look at the driver?” Cavanaugh asked, scribbling notes into the notepad he always kept with him.
“He didn’t,” I said. “But it has to mean something, doesn’t it? A strange car that obviously doesn’t belong rolls by right around the time Joe dies. I doubt it’s a coincidence.”
“It could be,” Cavanaugh said. “But I’ll look into it.” He glanced at his watch. “Later, I suppose. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
I considered telling him about my suspicions about Martin Castor, but decided it could wait. At this point, Cavanaugh looked impatient to go and I didn’t want to distract him any more than he already was.
“No, that’s it.”
Cavanaugh left with a warning to watch my head. I almost followed him out the door, but saw Officer Perry watching me. I waved to him, and then motioned him over. He rose from his seat with a wince I’m not sure anyone else saw, and then he joined me by the doors.
“Mrs. Denton.”
“Liz, remember,” I said. I was going to have to start wearing a nametag that said CALL ME LIZ so I could stop having to remind everyone.
He smiled. “I do, Liz. How’s your son, Ben?”
“Good.” Or so I hoped. “I have a quick question for you.”
“I aim to serve.” He dipped his head in something of a mock bow.
“You mentioned Detective Wayne Hastings the last time we talked.”
“I remember.”
“You said he didn’t listen to you when you raised concerns about Harry Davis’s eyewitness account.” I paused, uncertain how to phrase my next question without making it sound like an accusation. The two men were colleagues, and while Reg hadn’t been happy with being ignored, he had said he had fond memories of the retired detective.
“It’s all right,” he said. “I won’t get offended by whatever you have to say.”
I sincerely hoped not. “Do you think it’s possible Detective Hastings knew what happened to Christine Danvers?”
Reg’s expression darkened. “You believe he covered it up?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “He was the detective in charge, so he likely had more knowledge of the case than anyone. Yet, he believed Harry, even knowing that Harry was prejudiced against Joe and Christine from the start.”
“So, you think he was covering for Harry?”
“Or Martin Castor.”
Reg shook his head. “I don’t believe it. Wayne made mistakes; we all do. But I never once believed him dirty. He did the job, and in most cases, did it well. He would never help a man like Harry Davis get away with a crime. He wouldn’t have it in him.”
“That’s good to know,” I said, feeling somewhat better. I didn’t want to think the police could have had anything to do with Christine’s disappearance, because once you lost faith in those that were supposed to protect you, it was hard to get that faith back.
“I saw you talking to Detective Cavanaugh,” Reg said. “Was it about the investigation?”
“It was, but he seems pretty busy.”
“He has been.” Reg looked worried by the fact. “Too much is getting heaped onto his shoulders and it’s starting to show. I remember when Detective Hastings dealt with much the same thing. Nearly caused him to retire on the spot.”
I didn’t want to see Detective Cavanaugh retire. He and I didn’t always see eye to eye, but he was a good man. And as far as I could tell, he was good at his job—when he was allowed to do it.
“I don’t get why Mr. Wright is so involved,” I said. “He’s only getting in the way.”
“That’s politicians for you,” Reg said. “Just you wait and see, by Christmas, he’ll be using this to put restrictions on us somehow.”
“Or will use it to run for president.”
“Perish the thought.”
“Has the Travis McCoy situation been taken care of?” I asked, changing the subject to something a little less frustrating.
Reg grinned. “It has. Let’s just say some money got passed around and quite suddenly, no one wanted to press charges anymore. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the Mocks planned the whole thing from the start.”
Why wasn’t I surprised? It seemed like anytime a celebrity got into trouble, they threw money at it and it went away. I might not know the Mocks, but it would not shock me to learn that they had planned the entire dustup, just to milk Travis McCoy for a few thousand bucks.
“Well, you keep yourself safe, Liz Denton,” Reg said. “I’ve got to get back to work.”
“I think I should be the one telling you to be careful,” I said. “You’re the cop.”
“Always do,” he said with a wry chuckle. “But you’re the one risking her neck for a man she hardly knew.”
And with that, he turned and headed back to work, leaving me to wonder if I was doing the right thing, or if I was putting myself at risk for no good reason.