CHAPTER 23
Betsy and I sat shoulder to shoulder in the little holding cell in Peach Cove Sheriff’s Department. It wasn’t the first time I’d sat here. No, I’d been here before, under different circumstances. And oddly, life had prepared me for this. It struck me as funny how when you got battered around for a while, you toughened up enough to handle what life brought. Acceptance, though, now that was another matter altogether. The amiable person I’d once been had vanished, leaving a woman who didn’t face adversity trembling. Well, not trembling as much. After my statement, I had to wait a while, alone. When they brought Betsy in, I’d been relieved and upset. Javier had prepared me the best he could. Still, nothing could truly prepare you for such an ordeal. Seeing my best friend’s bottom lip quiver as the detective escorted her inside the cell caused my heart to break.
“Don’t fall to pieces, Bets. We’re going to get out of here. This isn’t the end.”
“Fall to pieces, me?” Betsy huffed. “I’m not going to give that jerk the satisfaction of seeing me cry. And the person responsible for framing us will pay.”
I gave her a nod. “When we get out of here, we’re going to tear this island apart. The killer is still here. And I think Sam might have had a decent theory after all. Lucy must have been an integral part of the plan to rob the bank. She might have gotten in over her head and someone offed her. And now they have Paul. The video was awful.”
Betsy shivered. “I’m not sayin’ I don’t feel bad for Paul, I do. We owe him our life. But man, I’m glad it isn’t one of us in his place.”
“What kind of psycho could do that to another person?”
“I think you answered your own question with the psycho bit,” Betsy said.
“Yeah, you’re right. I hope they have some solid leads. I don’t want Paul to end up like Lucy.”
“Me either.”
“It’s weird how no one saw the biker other than those at the wedding. Maybe we’re completely off about him. He could have seen whatever he wanted to and drove right onto Cove Ferry. And this David might be a different man altogether. He might not even be on the island. He could’ve been clear across the country when he and Lucy spoke.” I ran my fingers through my messy hair. “Perhaps we and the police have been wrong about everything and that’s why we’re not getting anywhere.”
“Well, it sure ain’t us!” Betsy humphed. “And I’m still having a hard time feeling sorry for Lucy. If she had gotten in over her head and she’d been the least bit decent to us, we’d have helped her.” Betsy smoothed her wild hair behind her ears.
“Decent or not, I have every intention of helping her now.”
“Why? She’s the reason we’re sitting here.”
I scrunched up my face.
“Oh, the crazy mama juju thing. That’s so annoyin’. I get helping folks out that deserve it. The dead being dead and all. Still, Lucy doesn’t deserve our help.”
“I’m beginning to believe we didn’t know Lucy as well as we thought. The detective alluded to her past troubles.”
“What sort of troubles?” Betsy curled her lip.
“I don’t know, and it doesn’t really matter. I just have to help her rest in peace.”
“Fine. Only after we help ourselves, of course. And poor pitiful Paul, if we can, then Lucy.”
Betsy and I locked gazes. “Yes. After that.”
“Where is she? Where is my niece? I won’t ask you again!” Aunt Vi’s voice rang through the building.
Betsy smiled, despite her worry. Good ole Aunt Vi always brought some much-needed levity.
“Myers. Your lawyer and aunt are here.” Detective Thornton came around the corner and unlocked the door.
“It’s about time!” Betsy rose. “Come on, Marygene.” She pulled at my shirt sleeve when I didn’t rise.
“Only you, Miss Myers.” The detective fumbled with the keys in the lock.
It stuck sometimes. Eddie kept a can of WD-40 in his desk drawer. I debated telling him about it and decided against it.
“It’s fine.” I squeezed my friend’s hand. “You go on. I’m sure I’ll be right behind you.”
“When is her lawyer gettin’ here?” Betsy fired at the detective. “My aunt ain’t going to shut her trap if you don’t let Marygene out too. Hell, I won’t shut mine either.”
“Miss Brown isn’t who you should be concerned with. And I’m sure your aunt doesn’t ever shut her trap, so that isn’t much of a threat.” Couldn’t argue with his logic. “Would you like to speak with your attorney or not?”
Betsy hesitated.
I released my grip on her. “She does want to speak with him.”
“I should wait on you.” Betsy chewed on her fingernail. “We’re a package deal. I’m your ride-or-die BFF.”
“I haven’t got all day, Miss Myers.” The detective’s impatience grew.
“Go!” I urged.
“Okay.” Betsy threw her arms around my neck. “I’ll see you on the outside.”
She sniffed, wiped her eyes, and shuffled out of the cell. She lifted her hand right before she went around the corner.
The door remained open after she’d gone. The detective inclined his head, and we traded inquisitive stares. Was this a mind game? If so, I wasn’t about to break down.
“Well,” he said.
“Well what?” I crossed my legs and laced my fingers over my knee.
“Would you prefer to stay inside the cell or join me in the sheriff’s office?” The heavy set of keys jingled as he shifted them to his other hand.
“Are you serious?”
“I’m never not serious. Life hasn’t afforded me a sense of humor.”
He could say that again. Slowly, I rose. The hour and a half had felt more like an eternity inside the cell. And if I reacted true to my emotions, I’d run from the room. Instead, I held my armor in place and followed the detective out the door. My armor slipped a little when the door clanged shut behind me, and I jumped. I squared my shoulders and marched after him anyway.
Aunt Vi charged me the second she spied me coming around the corner. She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed until I thought my ribs would crack. “It worked! He finally relented. I told that Latin fella and the surly detective I was going to be a boil on the backside of this department if they didn’t let both of my girls free.” She rocked me back and forth. “I’m so glad your daddy is okay. I prayed for him. We all did.”
“Thank you.” I hugged her back.
“I can’t believe the nerve of some folks. Harassing a poor girl who nearly lost her father.”
I didn’t have to see to Aunt Vi’s face to know the intense threatening glare she aimed at law enforcement.
“Don’t you worry, sweet girl. We’re going to get this sorted out. That detective has more brains than he lets on. He knows you and my Betsy are innocent.”
I patted her back. “You’re right. It’s going to be okay. I’m going to go and speak with the detective now.” I stared into her sweet round face and smiled. “Thank you for praying for Eddie.”
Aunt Vi bobbed her head and then placed herself protectively in front of me. The glare I imagined was there and in full force. “Remember this, Detective Big Shot, you’re not the only one who can call a press conference. You mistreat my girls and I’ll shout it from the rooftops. I’ll use every dollar I have to investigate your background and ruin what life you have left.” With that, she spun on her sandaled heels and left. I had to hand it to her. It was a hell of a way to leave an impression. I felt grateful to have her on my side and to know she cared about me.
“You ready?” Detective Thornton opened the door to Eddie’s office, and I walked inside.
The second the door softly shut behind me, I fought tears. I smelled Eddie’s cologne lingering. Even though I knew he had a bottle stashed in his desk, I wanted to believe it came from him. I scanned the images on his desk. I caressed his smiling face with my index finger before I sat in the chair opposite.
“I hear your father pulled through.” The detective handed me a Coke from the machine and propped himself against the desk.
I took the can and cracked it open, more parched than I realized. I assumed it was from the machine in the break room because it felt semi-cool. The other machine never kept the drinks cold.
“He did.” I swallowed and steered away from personal family stuff. “What are y’all doing to find Paul?”
“Everything we can.” He stared straight through me. “We have quite a predicament on our hands, don’t we?” The detective folded his arms.
I didn’t respond, unsure as I tread these unfamiliar waters. My attorney wasn’t here, and I certainly had no intention of accidentally incriminating myself.
“Let’s discuss the facts.”
“What are the facts as you see them, Detective?”
He turned, leaned back, and took a file from the top of the desk. “We have three crimes. A murder, an attempted robbery, and now a kidnapping. On the murder, we have the drugs found in your cottage. A match per the toxicology report. The body was found on your property and your boyfriend has been kidnapped after a public argument you two engaged in. We have witness testimony stating Betsy threatened the first victim after the victim started an argument with you.” He dropped the file back on the desk. “We have a video where your boyfriend is holding a sign with similar threats Betsy made.”
Nerves did somersaults in my stomach. Yeah, I sounded guilty, all right. Anything I said could and would be held against me in a court of law. “When is my lawyer arriving? I would feel better if he were here before I answered any questions.”
“Wise of you. But the thing is, Miss Brown. I don’t think you’re guilty.”
The inner warning alarms were blaring loudly. Trap! Trap! Trap! I straightened in the seat and took another sip from the can.
“Skeptical. Sure. I understand. I don’t know what’s going on here. Something is wrong. I’ve been a cop for over twenty years. I have a sixth sense.”
Javy had said something similar the other day. What was with law officers and their analogies? The phone on the desk rang and the detective leaned over and answered it. He grumbled a few clipped sentences into the receiver that, in my current state of mind, sounded like gibberish. I only caught Mr. O’Malley and agreement. My mind still spun with the declaration he’d just made, and I had to get it together. He set the phone down and went to open the door.
In walked my attorney, briefcase in hand. The older freckled man had a strong posture. His face showed no fear or concern. I wished I had his confidence.
“Has the detective been treating you well?” he asked as he reached me.
“Yes. He’s also just been telling me an interesting story.”
His eyes slanted toward the detective, and I read a warning within his gaze. “Yes, I can imagine he did.”
“She was never at risk. We were just having a friendly chat.” The detective appeared to remain stoic. He leaned forward and placed both palms on the desk as he faced us. “Weren’t we, Miss Brown?”
I glanced from the detective to my attorney. “What’s going on here? What am I missing?”
Mr. O’Malley turned to me. “We can have a private discussion first, or if you’re ready to get out of this place, you can trust I’m doing everything in your best interest. With your long night, I assumed you’d want the latter.”
His blue eyes were clear and reassuring. Eddie trusted him implicitly. I would too.
“Whatever you think is best. I’m okay to move forward.”
He smiled approvingly before wiping his expression clean and digging into his briefcase. For some reason, I felt proud I’d given him the correct response. He pulled out a printed document and put his cell phone on the desk. My eyes went wide as he opened the voice recorder app. He spoke clearly and concisely, announcing the date, time, and names of everyone in the room. Then he turned to the detective.
“Everything Detective Thornton requested has been added to the agreement. I’d like the record to state that anything spoken here or hereafter regarding said agreement will have no impact on my client in a negative way. Even in the event the department should later decide to pursue a separate set of criminal charges against her. Which I would advise against. I would also state that any information spoken here may be used in my client’s case if the department dares to pursue such a case.”
“Agreed and duly noted,” the detective said.
The ruddy-faced man pulled a chair close to me. “Some new evidence has come to light, my dear. This evidence has led Detective Thornton to the conclusion that it would have been impossible for you to have committed these crimes. Time-stamped evidence of your presence at the hospital after the wedding, a traffic camera recording, plus the hospital footage when you were there with your father. There’s no way you could be at two places at once, and Paul held this morning’s paper.”
My heart hammered so loudly in my ears, and my head felt clogged. It took me a minute to process the information. I glanced from Mr. O’Malley to the detective.
“Not only that. We also managed to get a partial fingerprint taken from the drug in your cottage. Plus, upon further analysis of the video, the reflection of a person with dark curly hair was captured. A forensics team has swept through Paul’s apartment and found the place cleaned out. Not a single personal effect was able to be located. And someone did a proficient job of wiping it clean.”
My mouth dropped open, and I instantly closed it. Could I really be hearing this? A professional clean-out job, here on the island?
Mr. O’Malley took a seat next to me and placed his hand over both of mine. They went still, where I’d been twisting them subconsciously in my lap. It was a sweet, fatherly gesture, and I had to fight back tears.
“I had this drawn up this morning. It’s to protect you from any prosecutorial endeavors the department may decide to pursue if the case they are attempting to make falls through. All it needs is the detective’s signature. He has his own copy. This one is for you.” He passed the document over to the big man looming over us. He signed in a perfunctory manner. This detective truly didn’t believe me to be guilty.
As if reading my mind, the detective met my gaze. “You were correct in your analysis. This isn’t a crime of passion. These are carefully planned and executed crimes. Someone would have to understand police procedure. And I don’t mean a daughter of a local sheriff.” The detective picked up a photo and presented it to me. My heart nearly stopped. They’d blown up the image of the reflection in the video, showing the back of someone’s head. A head that reminded me of Alex’s. Curlier perhaps, like when he didn’t dry it after swimming or showering.
No, it can’t be.
My hands trembled as I handed the picture back. “Okay. If you don’t believe I’m guilty, why did you have Deputy Reyes haul me out of the hospital while I sat by my father’s bed?”
“I regret having to order that. Like I said before, someone is trying to frame you and your friend Betsy. If we allow said person to believe we’re considering filing charges, we’ll have a better chance at catching them. Deputy Reyes has been working tirelessly to prove your innocence to me. He had an old colleague analyze the video in record time.”
My bottom lip quivered. Thank you, Javy.
“Betsy is being questioned by Deputy Reyes in the other room about her cousin.”
I could have fallen from my chair. Sweet Lord, they caught the resemblance too. “You actually believe Alex Myers is capable of killing his wife, framing his cousin and ex-girlfriend, along with orchestrating a bank robbery while playing the grieving widower?” It all sounded like something out of a movie. A horrible B-level movie.
“It’s something to consider. He has motive, he had opportunity, and he has the means.”
I scrubbed my face with my hands. “Detective, in the last forty-eight hours, I’ve been accused of murder and kidnapping, along with attempted armed robbery. My father almost died, and I’ve spent two hours in a stinky cell. My best friend is beyond stressed out because of all of this mess, and a guy I was seeing has been abducted. Now you tell me a man I’ve known my entire life is behind it all. It’s too much.”
“I believe this concludes our meeting for today.” Mr. O’Malley shut off the recording. He helped me to my feet. “My client is exhausted. We’ll discuss this at a more opportune date.”
“It’s your decision, Miss Brown. But like you said, a guy you were seeing has been abducted. Don’t you want to help?”
“Of course I do. It’s just, right now, I’m fried and wouldn’t be of use to anyone. I’m having trouble thinking straight. My brother is at the hospital by our father’s side. I need to shower and take a nap and then I’m going back to be with my family. I’m taking Betsy with me. She needs a break.”
I shook Mr. O’Malley’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”
I started for the door, pausing with my hand on the knob. I turned and pierced the detective with my own stern glare. “After that, you have my word. I’ll help you. Under one condition. I will work with Deputy Reyes and only Deputy Reyes. Not that I’m saying I believe Alex is guilty, but whoever it is needs to be stopped, and poor Lucy deserves to rest in peace.”
The detective’s face held marginal surprise at my mentioning Lucy. “You are a good woman. We’ll find your boyfriend. Rest well, Miss Brown.” The detective rose to his full height. “I apologize for what you’ve endured by my hand. Your request to work with Deputy Reyes is granted.”
I still didn’t like this man, and if framing me would suit his purposes, I believed he’d do it in a heartbeat. I thought about replying with a mocking retort. Something like how generous he was for granting me such a kindness while I helped him build his case. Or perhaps he could take his grants and shove them where the sun didn’t shine and make his freakin’ case on his own. It would’ve been childish, and I hoped he’d keep his word and find Paul.
Instead, I nodded, turned, and left the room.