CHAPTER 9
“Tell me again why we had to pack up five separate containers of cookies for one bunch of cops.”
Abby had been about to open the door that led into the lobby shared by city hall, the town’s library, and the police department. She was sure she’d been clear the first time her mother had asked, but there was no reason not to go over their plan one last time.
“The desk sergeant sits out in the lobby and may not get back to the bullpen before all the cookies we leave there are gone. The second one is for whoever is on guard duty by the jail cells, and Gage deserves his own since he’s the one you insulted yesterday. The fifth container is for Owen.”
Her mother wrinkled her nose. “Okay, but I’ve never heard of anyone offering up cookies to buy time to visit a prisoner.”
It was hard not to laugh at her reaction. “Seriously, Mom. How many times have you visited someone in jail? But you’re probably right. I’m guessing normally it’s not done. However, as I’ve told you, I consider Gage a personal friend. I’ve also gotten to know some of the other officers as well, and I like them. Maybe it’s a small-town thing.”
To forestall any further discussion on the subject, Abby opened the door and motioned her mom to go ahead. As usual, Sergeant Jones was manning the front desk. He looked up from his computer and smiled as soon as he spotted her. Then he gave the bag in her mother’s hand a—dare she say it?—hungry look.
“Ms. McCree, it’s been a while since you’ve graced us with your presence. We’ve missed you.”
She grinned back at him. “Tell me, Sergeant Jones, is it me you really miss or is it the cookies I always bring?”
Her assessment had him laughing. “Let’s go with a little bit of both.”
“That’s what I thought.” Abby dutifully signed the visitors’ log and then took the bag from her mother so she could do the same. “We’re supposed to check in with your boss. Is he available?”
While he gave Gage a quick call, Abby dug a small container out of the bag and set it on the desk. The sergeant eyed it with a smile. “Yes, sir, and they’ve come bearing gifts.”
He hung up and pointed to the door behind him. “He’s in his office. Go on back.”
Pointing to the container, he asked, “Are those just for me, or do I have to share?”
“All yours, Sergeant Jones. I brought more for the bullpen and for Gage.”
The cookies instantly disappeared behind the counter. “Thank you, ladies. Enjoy your visit.”
Her mother followed close on her heels as they made their way down the hall toward the area that housed the rest of the department. Abby stopped long enough to set the largest container of cookies by the coffeepot, where the staff would find it soon enough. From there they headed toward the door to Gage’s office. He was on the phone, so she knocked on the door frame in case he wanted privacy. He looked up and motioned for them to come on in. She and her mother took seats and waited until he finished up his call.
As soon as he hung up, Abby raised one eyebrow and gave her companion a pointed look. Her mother’s smile wasn’t all it should be, but at least she was trying. She set one of the remaining containers of cookies on Gage’s desk.
“Chocolate chip as requested, Chief Logan. I apologize for my poor behavior yesterday. I offer no excuse other than to say I’ve never seen someone I care about arrested before. I felt helpless and didn’t handle it very well.”
Abby held her breath as Gage sat quietly for several seconds before finally nodding. “Apology accepted. I do realize that it was a stressful situation for you.”
The laugh lines around his eyes deepened just enough to signal the tense moment was over. “If it’s any consolation, your daughter wasn’t any happier with me back when I invited Tripp to take up residence in our deluxe accommodations.”
She gave Abby a quick glance. “So she said. I understand he was there for similar reasons.”
“Close enough.”
He picked up the cookies. “I’ll put these out for my people.”
Abby rejoined the conversation. “Actually, those are for you. I already put another bunch out by the coffeemaker for the rest of the crew. We also brought some for whoever is on guard duty today.”
Gage leaned back in his chair, looking far more relaxed than he had when they first arrived. “Your buddy, Deputy Chapin, will be happy to see you.”
Abby would be glad to see him as well. They’d met back when Tripp had been locked up. The young deputy had gone out of his way to make things easier for Abby, even letting Zeke come hang out with his buddy. The dog had serious abandonment issues, and Tripp’s abrupt disappearance had left the mastiff mix confused and hurting. It had done both dog and man good to spend time together, even if Zeke hadn’t understood why his friend couldn’t come home with them. Looking back, she had to wonder if Zeke thought Tripp had been in a people shelter waiting to be adopted.
Back to the matter at hand. She had no desire to intrude on the limited time her mother would have with Owen. Hopefully, Deputy Chapin wouldn’t mind if Abby hung out with him instead.
“Tim knows to let both of you in, so there shouldn’t be any problems.” Then Gage gave her mom a considering look. “If you have any influence on Owen, convince him to tell me whatever it is that he’s holding back. The sooner he does, the sooner you can have the stubborn idiot back where you want him.”
Abby was already heading for the door when Gage added, “Besides, I’m tired of people complaining because his restaurant is closed. Evidently, they want their barbecue back.”
“Are you done scoping out the place for evidence?”
“Yeah, we have everything we need”—Gage paused long enough to open the lid of the container and snag two of the cookies—“except answers.”
“We’ll try, Gage, but no promises. I never had any luck talking sense to Tripp.”
Before he could respond, the phone rang. She glanced back one last time before walking out the door. He held the phone a couple of inches from his ear with one hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with the other as if fighting a headache. The two cookies lay abandoned on his desk next to an empty coffee cup. The poor guy had probably been running full tilt since they’d first stumbled across the body.
“Mom, give me a second.”
She headed for the coffeemaker and picked up a clean mug. After filling it with coffee, she added a splash of cream and two sugars. Gage gave her a look of pure gratitude when she set it down on his desk. She waved and slipped back out the door.
“Okay, let’s go.”
The walk down to where the cells were located didn’t take long. Her mother coasted to a stop as soon as she spotted the wall of metal bars right behind where the deputy on guard duty sat. Abby could remember feeling the same horror the first time she’d passed this way. As promised, it was Tim Chapin who rose to his feet to greet them.
“Ms. McCree, it’s good to see you again.”
“Please, it’s Abby. And this is my mother, Phoebe McCree. She’s here to see Owen Quinn.”
“Yeah, the boss said she could stay twenty minutes.”
He got the keys out of the desk drawer. “You know the drill, Abby. After you put your things in the locker, I’ll take you two the rest of the way.”
Her mother removed the last two containers of cookies from the bag and folded it up. “One of these is for you, Deputy. I’d like to take the other one to Owen, if that’s acceptable.”
His face lit up as he accepted her offering. “It’s fine, ma’am, and I appreciate your thoughtfulness in bringing me some, too.”
Abby hung back as he unlocked the door. “I’ll wait here, Mom, unless you need me to come with you. I will let you know when it’s time to leave.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Her mother didn’t sound convinced of that, but she drew herself up to her full height, clearly bracing herself for what came next. Then she followed the deputy around the corner to where the cells were.
When they were out of sight, Abby parked herself in the chair in front of the deputy’s desk and waited for him to return. She heard the scrape of a heavy chair being dragged across the floor, which made her smile. No doubt Deputy Chapin was doing his best to make her mother comfortable in a place that was anything but. At least her mom could sit down while she talked to Owen.
If the man was anything like Tripp, he was probably telling her she didn’t belong in a place like this. That much was true, but she suspected her mom’s response to that would be much the same as Abby’s had been. As long as Owen was going to be there, he’d just have to put up with her coming to check on him. She’d have to remember to mention that the other bribe that worked well was dinner from Gary’s Drive-In. It had worked wonders on morale when she’d smuggled in burgers and shakes for Gage, the deputy, and their prisoner.
Deputy Chapin was back. When he closed the door and turned the key, locking her mother inside, it sent a chill through her. As if sensing Abby’s discomfort, he grimaced. “Sorry, Abby, but I have to follow regulations. Mr. Quinn is the only prisoner right now, so she’s safe enough.”
She tried to lighten the moment. “I know. It’s just that I never envisioned bringing my mother on a field trip to the local lockup.”
He snickered. “Yeah, you’ll find us listed on all the best tours here in town.”
Then he offered her one of the cookies, and they chatted until it was time for her to retrieve her mother.
“Do you want me to go fetch her?”
She shook her head. “No, I’d better do it. Mom can get testy when it comes to Owen. I’d rather she not take her temper out on my friends.”
That he didn’t argue made it clear that her mother had already earned a questionable reputation in the local law enforcement community. If so, it probably meant there’d be a lot more baking going on to restore the peace.
She deliberately walked a little heavier than necessary to warn her mother and Owen that she was headed their way. The scene as she rounded the last turn was all too familiar. Her mother was sitting facing Owen’s cell, so they could hold hands through the bars. He was the first to acknowledge Abby’s presence. His smile looked tired, which didn’t really surprise her. He probably hadn’t gotten much more rest than Gage had over the past two days. Couple that with sleeping on a rock-hard cot in strange surroundings, it was no wonder he looked a bit haggard. Besides, few people looked good in a garish orange jumpsuit. Tripp certainly hadn’t.
“I told your mother she shouldn’t have come, but I am grateful to you both for making the effort. I also appreciate the cookies. I can’t complain about the food here since it comes from the Creek Café. However, chocolate chip cookies are my favorite, so thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She turned her attention to her mother. “Sorry, Mom, but we have to go. We shouldn’t overstay our welcome, especially if there’s a chance you’ll want to visit again.”
As she spoke, she gave Owen a questioning look, hoping he would suddenly be overcome with the urge to confess all to Gage. The corner of his mouth quirked up briefly, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. Meanwhile, her mother reluctantly released her death grip on his hands.
“I’ll try to come back tomorrow, Owen. Is there anything I can bring you?”
“I’m fine, Phoebe. And although I know you won’t listen, I’ll say it again. This is no place for you to be.”
Even if Owen didn’t recognize the stubborn set to her mother’s chin, Abby did. “I’ll be coming back every chance I get until you walk out of that cell.”
She stood up and put the chair back where it had come from. As she did, Owen paced the short length of his cell, finally coming to a stop back in front of the door with his hands gripping the bars. “Don’t forget to check in with my assistant, Jada Davidson, for me. She takes classes at the university, so she might not be home. It would be easier if you could call first, but I don’t know her number. She’s in my list of contacts, but they took my cell phone when they brought me here.”
“Don’t worry, Owen. We’ll find her.” Then by way of explanation, her mother added, “He wants us to let her know she’ll still get paid even though the restaurant and food truck are both closed right now.”
That was generous of him. “Do you know her address?”
Owen frowned. “No, but I’ve given her a ride home a couple of times after work. She lives on Madrone Place out near the grocery store. Her street is a loop that hits the main road twice, a block apart. If you turn at the first entrance, hers is the fourth house on the right. It’s a cream-colored rambler with green trim. There’s a huge vine maple out front.”
“We should be able to find it.” Abby frowned. “Just in case, Mom, have you ever met Jada?”
“Not exactly, but I’ve seen her from a distance. I’m sure I’ll recognize her.”
“Good. We’ll stop by her house on the way home. If she’s not there, we can leave a note asking her to call us. If that doesn’t work, we’ll do another drive-by later this evening.”
Owen looked considerably happier. “Thanks, Abby. Dinner’s on me after all of this is over. We should invite Tripp, too, despite the amount of food that boy can devour. You should’ve seen him the last time he and some of his fellow veterans showed up for all-the-ribs-you-can-eat buffet. My bottom line took a direct hit that night for sure.”
If true, it certainly didn’t seem to concern him overly much. But then, nothing about how Owen ran his business made sense to Abby. Reminding herself that it wasn’t her problem, she ushered her mother toward the exit. “We really need to go, Mom. We’re already past the time limit Gage set for this visit, and we don’t want to push our luck.”
“Bye, ladies.”
Owen remained standing as they walked away. Abby glanced back one last time before turning the corner. By that time, he’d stretched out on the bunk and was staring up at the ceiling.
He might not be her favorite person, but he was slowly winning her over. She liked the fact that he cared more about his assistant getting paid than he did his current predicament. If they couldn’t spring him from that cell, the least they could do was check on his employee.
Deputy Chapin made quick work of processing them out. Her mother thanked him for his courtesy and said she would likely see him again soon. When they skirted the edge of the bullpen, Abby hesitated for a second to decide if they should stop by Gage’s office on the way out. She hadn’t had a chance to debrief her mom about what, if anything, Owen had told her about why he wasn’t cooperating with the police investigation. All things considered, it would be better to make themselves scarce.
Once they were in the car, Abby braced herself in case her next question didn’t go over well. “So, did Owen tell you why he’s sitting on his backside in that cell?”
Her mother shook her head. “No, other than he’s hoping Gage will find the killer sooner rather than later.”
She stared out the side window. “It’s like you thought. He’s either worried that he’s done something that ties him to the killer or he’s protecting someone.”
Abby reached over to pat her mother’s hand. “I won’t bother telling you not to worry, because you will, no matter what I say. Just know Gage and his people will do everything they can to get to the truth about what happened. They can also call on the county sheriff’s department for any assistance they might need.”
It wasn’t clear if that made her mom feel any better about the situation, but Abby had done her best. Meanwhile, they were almost to the neighborhood where Jada Davidson lived. After turning on Madrone, she counted the houses. Sure enough, the fourth one down matched the description Owen had given them. Abby pulled over to the curb to study the house and noted the driveway was empty. “I can’t tell if anyone’s home. Let’s go ring the doorbell.”
When they didn’t get an immediate response, Abby pressed the button one more time. Still no answer. If any of the neighbors had been outside, she would’ve asked them if they’d seen Jada. However, the only sign of movement on the entire street was a dark blue SUV driving away from a house two doors down. It was headed in the wrong direction for her to wave the driver down. Turning back to her mother, she said, “We’ll have to leave a note.”
Her mother pulled a notepad out of her purse and was hunting for a pen when someone turned into the driveway. After the garage door rolled up out of the way, the car disappeared inside. It was hard to decide what to do next when the garage door slid back down. Abby was about to knock when she heard footsteps approaching the door from the inside. A few seconds later it opened, revealing a young woman, presumably Jada Davidson.
She looked more wary than friendly. “Can I help you?”
“Ms. Davidson, I’m Abby McCree, and this is my mother, Phoebe McCree. We’re friends of Owen Quinn. He asked us to stop by to make sure you were doing all right.”
Jada’s whole demeanor changed dramatically, although she certainly didn’t look any happier. At least she opened the screen door, “Won’t you come in? Can I get you something to drink? I have bottled water, pop, and iced tea. I could also make coffee.”
Abby smiled. “Actually, I’d love some water. How about you, Mom?”
“I’m good, but thank you for offering.”
Jada led them into the living room off the entryway. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
Abby chose one of the two easy chairs and her mother took the other one. The furniture was a bit worn but comfortable looking. There were several framed photos on the mantel over the fireplace. Most were of Jada and an older man, most likely her father considering the strong family resemblance. There was only one picture that included a woman. Guessing from how young Jada looked, it had been taken at least ten years ago. Did that mean that both of Jada’s parents were gone? If so, she had to be reeling from the recent loss of her father.
Jada came back with two bottles. After handing one to Abby, she sat down on the sofa and unscrewed the top on her water and took a long drink. “I’ve been trying to call Mr. Quinn, but it keeps going to voice mail. I was wondering when he’d be able to reopen the restaurant. I’m scheduled to work this evening.”
Abby exchanged glances with her mother. “Actually, that’s why we’re here. Owen wanted you to know that you’ll be paid your usual salary even though the restaurant is closed for the foreseeable future.”
“But why? I know the police were checking the place out, but they finished yesterday.”
Did she not know where Owen was right now? Evidently not, and Abby hated to be the one to deliver the bad news. “I’m sorry, Jada, but Owen is in police custody right now.”
The younger woman’s face turned pale. “Why would they arrest Owen? He didn’t do anything wrong. They need to let him go. It’s my fault he’s in there. I’m the one who . . .”
Jada didn’t finish her sentence, which had alarm bells going off in Abby’s head. “You’re the one who what?”
When she didn’t immediately answer, Abby tried again. “What happened that night, Jada?”
“Nothing happened. I worked at the food truck just like I was supposed to do. I also kept the door locked at all times, just like Owen taught me, so no one could’ve gotten in. That’s what I told the police.”
Maybe that was true, but there something about the way she spoke the words that made it sound as if she’d rehearsed the statement over and over to make sure she got it right. Right now, Abby had no idea what had really gone on at the food truck, but she strongly suspected that the facts of the situation only marginally lined up with what Jada was claiming. If that was true, it also made it likely that Jada was the one Owen was trying to protect.
She leaned forward to make more direct eye contact with Jada. “Ms. Davidson, are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell us?”
Tears started tumbling down Jada’s cheeks, and she looked both guilty and terrified. Abby gripped the arms of the chair hard, to resist charging over to hug the poor girl. They really needed to hear what she was struggling to find the words to tell them. It was hard but necessary to wait for Jada to regain control and find the courage to speak the truth, whatever it might be. Unfortunately, her mother broke first and gathered the still sobbing girl into her arms. Jada started crying even harder as she took comfort from a total stranger. Maybe she just needed to get it all out of her system.
Abby watched and waited and hoped like heck that Jada wasn’t about to confess to having murdered Mitchell Anders.