Chapter Nineteen

Istared at the detective. “Prison? Derrick? But when? And why?”

Tim covered my hand with his. He looked surprised too.

Haskins consulted his notebook. “For two years. You were released on March first a year ago.”

“That’s right.” Derrick finally looked at me. “I told you I’d been living with monks in Switzerland, trying to stay sober and get my act together. But I wasn’t. I did go to Europe to pick up Cokey after I was released, when her mom, my ex, said she didn’t want her.”

“You came back to live in Westham about the same time I did last spring.” I nodded slowly. “At least being in prison explains how you could have left Cokey for two years. That had always seemed wrong for a father so devoted to his little girl.”

“I’m sorry, Mac.” My brother clasped his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry for all of it. But especially for not telling you.”

Haskins cleared his throat. “How did you pay Mr. Lacey?” he asked Derrick. “And what did he threaten you with if you didn’t pay?”

“He gave me deposit slips to his bank account. I put the money in every month. I didn’t want to see him if I could help it, so I insisted on that method.”

“That’s why you turned your back when Jake came into the shop,” I said, leaning forward.

Derrick gave a single nod in return.

“And the threat?” the detective reminded him.

“He said he’d make it public that I’d been incarcerated. I felt ashamed about it. Dirty. And I didn’t want my only daughter thinking I was a criminal. Or you, Mac.” Derrick’s eyes pleaded with me.

“Where were you on Tuesday after five thirty?” Haskins asked.

Would my brother tell the truth? I was still reeling from learning he’d been in prison. My world felt like it had been caught in a big wave, tossed and tumbled in all directions.

Derrick squared his shoulders but studied his hands for a moment. “I went to tell Jake I wasn’t going to pay him any more money. I was sick of hiding behind him, owing him. We’d arranged to meet outside the food pantry at six after the free dinner. But he never showed. I waited and waited. The fog had already come in and it was damp and miserable, plus I had the book group showing up. So I headed for home on the path near your yard, Mac. And there he was.”

“You didn’t report the body.” The detective adjusted his glasses as he gazed at Derrick.

“No. I panicked. I didn’t think anyone would believe me because of my past with him. I ran all the way home.” His voice shook.

I cocked my head. “That explains why you were late to book group and why you were breathing heavily when you arrived. Now your being nervous that night makes sense.”

“It also explains your absence the last two days, with a bottle of bourbon to top it off,” Tim added.

“I’m sorry, sis. I know I acted irresponsibly. I let you down. Again.” Derrick shook his head, then winced and squeezed his eyes shut.

It looked as if his head was hurting. I wasn’t surprised. Derrick would have a major headache even if he hadn’t fallen and cut his temple.

“If you’d called it in, stayed with him, Mr. Lacey’s life might have been saved.” Haskins lifted his eyebrows.

“Oh, no.” Derrick opened his eyes. “He was already dead. No question about that.”

The detective checked his notebook. “Do you know of any other people in the area who might have had grievances with the victim? Anyone you’ve seen around town, any other acquaintances from your incarceration who might have showed up?”

Derrick tented his fingers. “No. I can’t help you with that. Like I said, I avoided Jake wherever possible. And I haven’t seen anyone I recognize from that time. But Lacey wasn’t an easy man. He liked to get under people’s skin. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had plenty of enemies wherever he went.”

The clock on the mantel chimed eleven times. Derrick drained his coffee, while Tim and I sat together, silent. Was Haskins going to arrest my brother? My palms grew sweaty as I waited.

The detective studied us, then stored his pen in his shirt pocket, clicked off the recording, and stood. “Thank you for your time, all of you. I expect we’ll find your fingerprints on your knife, Mr. Searle, since it was your knife, after all. But I can’t arrest you without hard evidence.” His expression grew grave. “Believe me when I say we’ll be looking for it. I’d appreciate you staying close to home until you hear otherwise from me.”

Derrick rose, too. “I’m not going anywhere. As my sister reminded me earlier today, I have work here, and friends. But most important, I have family members who need me.”

“You might want to avoid the liquor stores, too,” Haskins advised.

“Yes, sir. You can count on that.”

I knew from Derrick’s experience how hard that truly was, and hoped he would get the help he needed, from AA if not from other sources. A person of interest in a homicide couldn’t afford to get into even more trouble.

My gaze drifted onto my bag on a side table where I’d laid it. “Detective, before you go, I have a clue for you.” I stood and went to my bag, then handed him the button. “I saw this by the side of the path earlier today. It was right where I found Jake’s body, and it’s clean. It has to have fallen off someone’s coat recently. I picked it up with the tissue, and I marked the spot. That was the right thing to do, wasn’t it?”

Haskins frowned and held out his hand for the tissue-wrapped button. A heavy sigh slid out of him. “I’m glad you didn’t touch it directly, Ms. Almeida. But next time, just call us.” He glanced at Tim. “Got a clean plastic bag I can have?”

Tim hurried into the kitchen. Why hadn’t Haskins even thanked me? “Is there something wrong, Detective?” I asked.

“We need to be the ones to retrieve pieces of evidence. We have procedure to follow so that items like this will be admissible in court. It’s a done deal now, but in the future please don’t move anything you think might be important to the case. Let us handle it.”

My excitement at finding what might be a real clue turned to a bad taste in my mouth. What if I’d just spoiled the case against Jake’s killer?