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Dela woke with a start. Sun was shining through a window in a room she didn’t recognize. And someone snored quietly beside her. Moving her head to look without disturbing the bed, Heath came into her sight.
That’s when the night before came back in vivid detail. The fear, the confusion, the man face down on her bed.
Would they ever know if he killed Paul Winter? Did that mean she would still be a suspect in that murder even though Quinn had said what happened last night was clearly self-defense?
Mugshot walked over to the side of the bed and whined. Dela reached out to pet him. He’d spent the night in the room with her. He hadn’t wanted to leave her side.
The snoring stopped. Heath’s eyes opened. He studied her gazing at him.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked, rolling to his side and draping an arm over her.
“Better. I know it was me or him. Like in Iraq. But he said things—” she stopped. Heath was a police officer. She wasn’t sure she could count on him keeping the part about her mother and father to himself.
Heath studied her. “What did he say? You said he didn’t confess to killing Paul.”
“He didn’t. He said things to taunt me. I’m thinking he wanted me to shoot him. But why? I don’t understand.”
“You said you shot him when he lunged at you.” Heath’s eyes darkened and hardened.
“He did lunge at me and that’s when I shot. Before that, he—” She stopped. Touching his cheek with her hand, she said, “You know the thing that brought us together?”
“The need to learn more about our fathers?” he questioned.
“Dickhead, I mean Jones,” she sighed. It would be hard to call him by his correct name, but it didn’t feel right to use her nickname for him anymore. “He talked like he knew who my father was and he didn’t care for him.” She let her hand slip from his face and said, “I found something at Grandfather Thunder’s the other day when I went over to talk to him. He refused to talk about it.” She peered into his eyes. “You have to promise you won’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”
“Is it illegal?”
She shook her head. Then shrugged. “I don’t think so. But I won’t tell you if you can’t promise to keep this between us.” Dela knew it was asking a lot of this man. He had integrity and believed in always doing what was right, no matter the consequences.
“It has to do with your father?” he asked, rubbing the hand he had draped over her up and down her side.
“Yes. Or I think so.” She let out a long breath. “I have no idea.” She went on to tell him about finding the driver’s license with the information scratched out and her thoughts on the photo.
“You think this person is your father?” Heath asked.
“It-it felt like I was looking at me. So yeah. Did you feel that way when you met your relatives?”
“Kind of. I did feel a connection of sorts. What does this have to do with Jones?”
She told him what the man had said and about the photo in her bedside table. “I didn’t get a good look at the photo. I’m not positive it’s the same person, but it looked like him.” She rolled and grabbed her phone from the bedside table and scrolled through to find the photo she took. “See?”
Heath held the phone in his hand and studied the photo. “You’re right. There are similarities in his eyes and your mouth.” His gaze roamed over her face and then back to the photo. “What do you want to do?” He handed the phone back.
“I want to find out who he is. According to Grandfather Thunder it would hurt my mom to ask her questions. I don’t understand, but she has never spoken about my father other than to say he was dead.” She studied Heath. “And I believe Grandfather Thunder will go to his grave keeping this secret. I would bet that he has thrown the driver’s license away so I can’t see it again. He knows I took a photo of it.”
A knock on the door stalled their conversation. “Breakfast is ready and Quinn is sitting out here waiting to talk to Dela,” Molly said.
Mugshot walked over to the door and whined.
“We’ll be right out,” Heath replied. He kissed Dela on the lips. “Get dressed and I’ll entertain Quinn.” He rolled off the bed and walked to the door. He was still dressed in the clothes from the night before. At the door, he stopped and said, “I’ll get that photo from your bedside table and we’ll talk about this some more tonight.”
She nodded, feeling better that she’d told Heath about the photo. Dela sat up, stretched, and moved to the chair where her duffel bag sat on the floor. She slipped out of her sweat pants, put on underwear, and began the process of putting her prosthesis on.
♠ ♣ ♥ ♦
Thirty minutes later she joined Molly, Marty, Travis, Heath, and Quinn in Molly’s small dining room. They had all started eating. A plate filled with her favorites sat in front of the chair next to Heath. She smiled at him and sat.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Quinn asked.
She glared at him. “I wish people would quit asking me that. I’m fine. Or I will be if I could move on.” She stared pointedly around the table.
Molly stared pointedly back at her. “We only ask because we care.”
Dela sighed. “I know. I’m pretty sure if I wasn’t okay, you would all notice.”
Heads bobbed.
“I’ve made my point.” She sipped her coffee and studied Quinn over the rim. Putting the cup down she asked. “What did you need to see me about this morning? I told Chief Steele everything last night.”
Quinn glanced around the table and said, “We’ll discuss it after breakfast.”
She understood the code for, not for other people’s ears. Namely Molly, Marty, and Travis.
“Fine.” She dug into her food, enjoying every bite.
When everyone leaned back, full and sipping coffee, Quinn shoved his chair back. “We need to talk.” His gaze was on Dela.
She pushed her chair back and saw Heath doing the same.
“Just Dela,” Quinn said.
She wasn’t sure what he would want to talk to her about that Heath, as a policeman, couldn’t hear, but she shrugged while holding Heath’s gaze and stood, following the Special Agent into the living room.
Quinn motioned to the couch. Dela sat and was surprised when he took a seat not six inches from her.
“Is this a business talk or...” She was getting a weird vibe from him this morning.
He cleared his throat but kept his voice low. “I just wanted to say, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you when you said you didn’t kill Winter. I have seen your temper at full boil and know you are well trained.”
She studied him. This was the most vulnerable and sincere she’d ever seen him. “Thank you. But what changed your mind? Did you find evidence at D-Jones’s house that proved I didn’t do it?”
“Not that you didn’t do it, but that the man really had hate for you. There were photos of you jogging around the neighborhood, petting Jethro at the Winter residence, walking out of the casino, being cozy with Heath. He had to have been following you to get the photos he did. And he knew your movements. Knew you had a soft spot for that donkey. I’m now wondering if he didn’t have Mrs. Swan call Ina and tell her she couldn’t feed the animal and that her husband hadn’t been home for weeks, just to get you over there.”
Relief relaxed her body. She smiled. “I knew Ina wouldn’t have sent me there knowing her husband was there.”
“We still haven’t found Levi, so I’m not ruling him out as the one who killed Winter, but there is the possibility that Jones set you up for it.”
Dela hopped on an idea. “Shaffer needs to let Mrs. Swan know that Jones is dead. That might get her to talk or at the least come home and someone can maybe persuade her to talk once she gets home.”
“What if she implicates Jones in the death to throw suspicion away from her grandson?”
Quinn is always the pessimist, Dela thought and said, “I’m sure if that is the truth you will discover it. I just want you and Chief Steele to tell Bernie Moon I am no longer a suspect so I can go back to work.”
Heath walked into the room. He studied the two of them sitting close but not touching. “I’m headed home to change into my uniform.” He walked over and kissed her cheek. “See you tonight?”
“I’ll be here unless Bernie calls and says I can work.” Dela folded her hands on her lap. She wanted to jump up and call Bernie herself but knew she’d only irritate the man. The news had to come from law enforcement.
“You aren’t going to run around trying to find Levi, are you?” Heath knew her too well.
“If the FBI can’t find him, he doesn’t want to be found. But I don’t understand, if he’s innocent, why is he hiding?” She glanced from Heath to Quinn and back to Heath.
“We won’t know until he surfaces,” Quinn said, standing.
The two men left the house at the same time. Dela was curious if they talked or just walked to their vehicles and drove off. She stood and walked over to the window. They stood by Heath’s truck talking. Well, Quinn was doing the most talking and Heath looked upset. What were they talking about?
“Dela, do you want me to take you to your place so you can feed Jethro and get your car?” Travis asked, startling her.
“Yes, thank you. I should probably take Mugshot and let him hang out with Jethro. The two of them have bonded more than I’d realized they would.” She started to grab her purse and realized it was at her house still.
“Mugshot, come on, we’re going to go see Jethro!” Dela called and the dog trotted into the living room followed by Molly.
“You’re coming right back here, right?” Molly asked.
Dela frowned. “I wasn’t hurt last night. I’m not an invalid.”
“You weren’t physically hurt but you had a shock.” Molly put her hands on her hips.
She hadn’t told many people, including Molly about her army life. “It wasn’t the first time I’ve killed someone.” She tried to convey to her friend that while it wasn’t easy to do, it had been necessary.
“I’ve figured that since you were an M.P. in a war zone. But that is different than someone coming into your home and threatening you.” Molly’s usually smiling face held concern.
“I’ll admit, that was different. But I’m fine. Honest.” Dela smiled and walked to the door. “Come on, Travis. I’m sure Jethro has awakened the whole neighborhood with his braying for breakfast.”
