CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

The interrogation room was small, dim, and in need of a fresh coat of paint. They'd had me sitting there for ten minutes so far. The aluminum chair was uncomfortable, and I continually patted the back of my head to make sure my updo hadn't become undone. I wasn't sure why. I'd used enough bobby pins and hair spray to keep a small country still. It must've been nervous energy, but knowing that didn't stop me. And I was probably just making it worse with each pat, especially since I hadn't taken off my black gloves with the lace cuffs.

When we'd first arrived, Lester had asked about the security footage from the bakery. I just so happened to have the flash drive in my black square vintage purse with the top clasp, and I'd handed it over. They were watching it now. They'd each offered me something to drink, but I used to watch The Closer. Kiera Sedgwick was a phenomenal actress, and Brenda Leigh Johnson was a hoot. I'd seen enough episodes to know to not accept anything that would leave my prints or DNA behind. Besides, my stomach was already a jittery mess, and I doubted I could keep anything down.

I stopped fussing with my hair and smoothed the lap creases of my charcoal-gray pencil skirt, then picked a piece of fuzz off my black top, and finally fidgeted with the five-strand pearl necklace. They weren't real, but they were nice enough to not look like costume.

Finally the door opened, and both Lester and Bud entered the room. Bud was the senior detective in terms of who had been a cop longer, but he was new to the case, so I wondered who the lead was. I assumed it was Pizza Grease Man. Sure enough, there was a grease stain on Lester's burgundy tie.

Bud pulled out the chair across from me and sat down. Lester leaned against the glass pane that looked out to the hall. The blinds were down, so I couldn't see if anyone was out there. This room had a mirrored wall that I assumed was a way for others to stand and watch us. But there was also a camera in the upper corner pointed straight at me. A bit redundant if you asked me.

"Do you actually think I killed Nathan?" I blurted out. Maybe I should've waited for them to ask me the questions, but this was unreal. Here I was spending a lot of my time trying to figure out who had really hurt Nathan, and these fools thought it was me.

"You brought the scones to my attention," Lester said.

I widened my eyes. "Because I didn't put them out, and they are in the video."

"You can't see who is carrying them, so how do we know it's not you?" Lester asked.

Seriously? "Why would I point all of this out if it was me? Why wouldn't I just keep quiet? You stupidly thought it was an accident."

His face reddened. So maybe calling his actions stupid wasn't the best choice.

"Because you were trying to deter suspicion."

I scoffed. "That's absurd." Actually, it would've been brilliant of me if I'd killed the man.

Detective Ohlsen leaned forward and spoke softly. "Why don't you tell me everything you remember about that day?"

I almost tried not to roll my eyes, but I couldn't say I was feeling any love in here, so I rolled them extra hard. Then I jutted my chin toward Lester. "I already told him everything."

Detective Ohlsen reached across the table and tapped the back of my hand. "Yes, but I'd like you tell me." He emphasized "me" in a way that had me wondering if he didn't trust his partner.

I swallowed and nodded. Detective Ohlsen had been there for me, so I didn't mind helping him out, especially since I knew he was a rational man, and as soon as I finished telling him what had happened that day, he'd know I wasn't responsible. "Fine."

I laid it all out, just as I had the first time, and when I was done, Detective Ohlsen leaned back in his chair and rubbed his jaw.

The seconds dragged by, and I wished I could crawl into their minds to figure out what they were thinking. Well, maybe not Lester's. It was probably full of pizza and centerfold memories. But I'd bet Detective Ohlsen's mind was racing with information pertinent to the case.

After another minute, the silence crept up and was suffocating. "Well?" I asked more sharply than I meant. "Someone say something." I wanted to add, "Do you believe me?" but I didn't. I was afraid of their answer.

Detective Ohlsen spoke first. "According to our investigation, the ingredients in Nathan's stomach were consistent with cinnamon scones made with peanut oil. But the tape gives no indication of who set out the scones. It could've been anyone."

"Like you," Lester said for dramatic effect.

"Did you talk to anyone else there? Everyone should be able to tell you that I didn't leave the register area. I couldn't have possibly been behind the counter and walking by with a plate of scones at the same time."

Detective Ohlsen nodded. "We spoke with several of the customers who were there that morning, and none of them remembered where you were."

I nearly cried out but just whimpered. My confidence in being ruled out was plummeting fast.

"They said it was crowded, and they were only focused on getting something to eat before it was all gone. A couple of people remembered the scones and had eaten some."

Well, that was far from helpful.

"What about the e-mail telling everyone about the freebies?" I asked, feeling like I was grasping at any detail to try to save myself.

"The account is under your name," Lester said with a chuckle.

"Yes, but anyone can make a dummy account. It didn't come from my house or the bakery."

I was about to fill them in on Amber's friend tracking the IP address, but Detective Ohlsen said, "We checked into that too."

Great. They sure were fast when they finally believed it was murder.

"The e-mail was sent from the Danger Cove Public Library," Detective Ohlsen said.

"Which means you could've written it at the library to throw us off," Lester said.

I almost added "Cause that wouldn't be hard to do," but I refrained. Lester had to be a Scorpio simply because that was Taurus's opposite sign, and he sure was grating on my nerves.

"Okay, but I haven't been to the library in over a month. Yes, I'm not proud of my reading habits, or lack thereof, but I've been busy with the bakery and haven't had time."

Lester frowned and shook his head. "No one's going to remember not seeing you there. That's crazy. And the library doesn't have cameras."

I took a deep breath, feeling a bit triumphant. "No, but in order to use the computers, you have to sign on using your name and library card number. They must keep records."

I expected Lester to suggest I'd stolen and used someone else's name and number, but he didn't. They both looked mildly surprised. Mild or not, I'd take it.

Detective Ohlsen turned to Lester and whispered, "Look into that."

Lester scrunched up his face as if annoyed to be told what to do. Or maybe he already knew I wouldn't be listed. But this also meant that the killer would be, and that made me feel like singing.

"Besides, there's still no reason why I would kill Nathan. There's no motive. I didn't even know the guy. He was a hermit and hardly ever left his house. Why would I want to create this elaborate plan to do him in?" I couldn't help wanting to shove their ridiculousness in their faces. Me, a killer? That was beyond laughable. I once cried after drowning a spider in the bathtub. Okay, so it was that time of the month, and I was exceptionally emotional, but I wouldn't kill a person.

Lester smirked though. "Motive we do have. You decided to kill him in an act of revenge after learning he killed your parents."

Oh crap! They knew that? "You know about the accident? I only just found out. How did you?"

I stared at Detective Ohlsen directly. If he'd known all of this time, or even some of it, he'd had a duty to arrest Nathan. I couldn't imagine he'd kept it to himself.

He cleared his throat. "There was an anonymous call to the station."

Someone else knew too? Obviously this person wanted me framed, which meant it was probably the person who had killed Nathan. But why? I assumed the killer's motives were about Nathan. So why set me up? Just to throw suspicion off of them? I thought of a couple of sisters who hadn't seemed to like me much. I wouldn't have been surprised if Holly or Gloria thought this was the perfect opportunity to point a finger in my direction.

I pushed my chair back and stood. "Is that all? Am I free to go?"

Suddenly, there were things I needed to do. I wasn't sure of the steps yet, but somehow proving who killed Nathan had become ever more important.

They both reluctantly nodded.

"Great." I grabbed my bag and held my head high as I walked out of the room. But I stopped in the hall when I remembered I had no way back to the bakery to collect my bike. Screw it. I'd walk. It wasn't that far.

 

*   *   *

 

By the time I arrived home, I was exhausted, and my feet were killing me. I'd walked from the station to the bakery and then bicycled to the house, which wasn't easy to do in a pencil skirt. I had to hike it up to midthigh and change into flats. I really needed to remember these things in the morning before I got my heart set on a particular outfit. My phone had buzzed nonstop on the ride over, but I hadn't wanted to stop to answer any of the calls and texts. Now that I was inside, I plopped onto the sofa, kicked off my super narrow but absolutely adorable kitten heels, and pulled out my phone. I had four missed calls and eleven texts from Tara, Amber, and Jared.

I threw my arm over my forehead. I just wanted a long, hot bath and a big plate of food. But before I got the chance to savor each idea, the doorbell rang. It had to be one of the three. I opened it and smiled. It was all of them.

"It must not be that bad if you're smiling." Tara stepped inside, kissed my cheek, and made her way to the kitchen. She carried a bag, and I heard bottles clanking as she passed.

"I can't just drink," I said. "I haven't eaten anything but a cinnamon muffin today."

Amber stepped in next and wrapped me in a tight hug. "Did they take your mug shot? Fingerprint you?" She grabbed my hand and stared at my fingertips.

"No, it was just questions."

She seemed slightly upset and followed Tara into the kitchen.

Jared stood in the doorway and held up a large bag that smelled heavenly. Ginger and garlic and spices. I almost snatched the bag from his grip. "Come on—admit it." He pointed in the direction of the girls and then the bag. "Alcohol and hugs are great, but I win, right?"

I giggled. "Absolutely."

We decided to use the living room as our base of operations instead of the kitchen. Tara sat in the armchair, while Jared and I occupied the sofa, and Amber sat on the floor with her back to the staircase. I'd told them every detail of my interrogation. Tara and Amber had insisted. But I'd left out why they believed I had motive. I still hadn't told Amber about the cause of the car accident. There was a lull in the conversation as we digested the information as well as the food. And boy had I eaten my weight in teriyaki.

"I can't believe any of this is happening," Tara said. "First the…" She glanced at Amber and cut her words off. "Just everything."

This was the moment to tell Amber the truth, but the words were having a hard time working their way around the lump in my throat. I was such a coward.

Jared gripped my hand and squeezed it. There was still so much he and I needed to discuss personally and privately. And I still wanted that bath.

Tara raised her glass. "Well, here's to the cops getting their heads out of their asses."

We all cheered.

Now for them to find the real killer and stop sniffing in my direction.

When Amber went upstairs to use the bathroom, Tara whispered, "Who else knew the truth about the accident?"

I shrugged. I barely knew myself. "I can't imagine it's anyone other than Holly and Gloria." Well, there was Max, but surely he didn't… No. I couldn't imagine him being that crafty of a liar. I would've seen through his act, right?

"I knew," said a voice behind me.

I spun around, almost knocking my plate off the edge of the coffee table, and saw Grams standing in the doorway.

She set her case down, stepped around the sofa, and pulled me into a hug. Seeing her and knowing she was back brought tears to my eyes. I sniffled into her shoulder.

"I'm sorry I stayed away so long. You've been going through a lot," she said.

I pulled back. "How did you know?"

"Jared called me," Grams said and grinned at him.

I turned and reclaimed my seat. "Why'd you do that?" I asked him.

"Because she's Grams, and you needed her."

My chest swelled with a mixture of relief, joy, gratefulness, and the desire to kiss him. The last one shocked me a little. There was also surprise that Grams had listened when he'd spoken to her, but she hadn't all the times that I called. He must've been very convincing.

"Grams," Amber said and practically flew into the woman's arms.

The guilt of my cousin still not knowing the whole truth ate at me. I wanted to get it over with now, but maybe it was best to wait until we could do it with Uncle Doug and Aunt Bernie. Wait. I stared at Grams. She said she knew. What if Amber's parents did too? I had so many questions for Grams, and I didn't want to wait any longer. Amber would have to learn about the accident another time.

"Would you guys mind if I had some time alone with Grams?" I asked.

On cue, Tara and Jared scrambled to their feet and gave Grams and me each a hug. When Jared started to pull away, I almost didn't let him, but there would be time to figure out what was going on with us later on. Amber walked out with them, but she gave us a look that seemed hesitant, as if she wanted to stay.

"I'll call you later," I said to her.

She walked out with a nod.

When we were finally alone, I tucked my feet in beneath me and patted the spot on the cushion that Jared had just vacated.

Grams picked up my plate and helped herself to some food, and then she joined me.

"Spill," I said.

"You obviously already know Nathan was responsible for the accident. How'd you find out?"

"I read his journal."

Her eyebrows shot up.

"How long have you known?" I asked.

"A long time." When I didn't say a word or breathe, she added, "Ten, maybe twelve years."

I scoffed so loudly that she blinked. "Are you serious? You knew all this time, and you didn't think to tell me? You saw how much pain I was in. Didn't you think the truth could've alleviated some of it?"

"How? Knowing that some drunk killed your parents wouldn't have made you feel better. It wouldn't have stopped the nightmares or the need to constantly be out with friends. It would've allowed you to direct your anger at one person."

"Exactly. The right person."

"And then what? Think back to how you felt then. To the anger you lived in. What would you have done knowing Nathan Dearborn had driven the other car?"

Back then? I would've found a way to make him pay. I hadn't been the same girl I was now. I wouldn't have killed him, but with all the rage that had consumed me, I might've come close.

"Fine, but why didn't you go to the cops?" I asked, stunned by the fact that she hadn't.

"Because I was selfish."

I blinked several times. "Excuse me?"

She set down the plate and sighed. "I wasn't certain if it was even true. Nathan had stumbled into the bakery one morning just as I opened. He was already drunk and smelled like he'd been that way for days. He apologized for what happened to Lily. I knew they'd been close, but I couldn't fathom why he was sorry. I figured he was too drunk to know what he was saying. Then he slurred something about it being his fault and driving his car. I put it together, but I wasn't certain."

"The police could've investigated." I immediately thought of Lester. If he'd worked on the force back then, even he wouldn't have messed up that investigation.

Grams nodded. "I was going to, and then I got a call from the high school. You were throwing up in the nurse's office. I went to get you, and it was clear you were hungover."

I remembered that too clearly. I had snuck out of the house the night before and went partying with Tara and a couple of boys she'd met from the next town. I'd snuck back into my room just in time to get dressed for school.

"I was afraid," Grams said. "Scared you'd spiral out of control more."

I'd spent that day feeling like crap, even more so when Grams hadn't lectured me. Instead of scolding me, Grams had sent me to therapy to deal with my grief. I never drank again in high school or even college. I hadn't started again until I'd let go of most of my anger.

I searched her eyes, and I instantly knew she was aware of the other secret as well. "It had been more than my spiraling. You wondered if I was his daughter and feared I could end up with a drinking problem like him."

She looked away, telling me all I needed to know.

"Am I his?"

She grabbed my hands. "I don't know. Your mother never wanted to find out. She believed you were Christopher's. Biology doesn't matter, right?"

I nodded, although I wasn't as sure. "Did Dad know?"

Grams widened her eyes and violently shook her head. "No. The second your mother agreed to marry him, the subject was never discussed again. He had no idea that she and Nathan had ever been that close."

Part of me felt relieved. I was very glad Dad had no idea. He hadn't spent a second wondering if I was his. But another part was ticked off that Mom lied to all of us.

"Does Uncle Doug know any of this?" I asked.

"No, not about the accident or anything else."

Good. I hadn't wanted to believe he was keeping information from me too. As for Grams hiding the truth, I guessed I kinda understood. I knew she was doing what she thought was best. I just wasn't sure I agreed with the way she had gone about it.

"We need to tell Uncle Doug and Amber about the accident," I said.

Grams nodded. "And the rest?"

"No. Tara and Jared know. And Nathan's family. But it's not anyone else's business."

Grams looked a bit relieved. "And this interrogation. Do you think the police will arrest you? Should I contact a lawyer?"

My stomach knotted. "Gosh, I hope not. Once they check the library records, they'll know I wasn't there and who was." As long as nothing had happened to the records.

I couldn't deny I was worried. I didn't trust the police, not even Detective Bud Ohlsen, and it infuriated me that someone had deliberately tried to set me up.

Of course that someone was a possible aunt. Which one though? It didn't matter. The only thing that did was finding the truth for once and for all.