by B. J Daniels
“Sure. I’ll catch up to you.” Shyla turned to Ford. “You want to join us?”
He declined and her husband took off, making the tires squeal on the cruiser. “You go on ahead. I have some things I need to do. I thought you said you were married to a cowboy?”
“Don’t let the uniform fool you,” she said with a laugh. “He’s all cowboy. You should see his Wild West fast draw. He could be a movie star,” she said as she stubbed out her cigarette on the sidewalk and headed toward her car.
Ford watched her go, wondering at how people changed. The lawless young woman who Rachel had bailed out of jail back in college had married a cop cowboy with a fast draw? He shook his head. Wasn’t it possible that if Shyla could change, Humphrey could have turned into a man who’d tried to beat his wife to death?
Chapter Eleven
Hitch got the call from Lori Stevenson from DCI on the way back into town. “Those phone records you asked about? I’m emailing them to you. We’re still checking out the numbers. Only one call jumped out at us. Didn’t you tell us that Rachel Collinwood believed her husband was having an affair with a woman named Emily Sutton? Well, Mrs. Collinwood called her cell phone number at ten the morning of the shooting.”
“She called before she went into town?” Hitch said, frowning. “How long was the call?”
“Four minutes.”
“Four minutes? She wasn’t simply checking to see if the woman was working. She’d actually talked to her that long?” Hitch had two quick thoughts. How had she gotten Emily’s cell phone number? And why had Rachel left that part out of her statement? “Okay, thanks. Anything else?”
“Bart Collinwood wants his son’s body so he can have him flown home and buried. He’s called everyone, from what I can tell, including the governor.”
Hitch was surprised the governor hadn’t called her. Yet. “Great. I need to run a few more tests,” she said. It wasn’t quite true, but she wasn’t ready to turn over the body. She had a feeling that she’d missed something. “I’ll let Mr. Bart Collinwood know.” She disconnected and drove to the morgue.
Once in the autopsy room, she pulled Humphrey Collinwood’s body out of the cooler, that niggling feeling growing. She was certain the reason the deceased hadn’t said a word during the fight was because he was already dead. But what if he was unable to speak for another reason? She began to search the body for injection marks.
* * *
THE SHERIFF STOOD at the foot of Rachel Collinwood’s hospital bed, Stetson in hand. She was so pretty and sweet and looked so shattered and afraid. “I have some good news for you.” At least he hoped she’d see it as that. “A bail hearing has been scheduled for tomorrow, the day of your hospital release. That means, if you can make bail, you won’t have to even spend one night in my jail behind bars.”
Her smile was weak, but it still warmed his heart. “Thank you so much, Sheriff. You’ve been so kind. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I know this is just standard procedure, that you aren’t responsible for me being arrested.”
“No,” Charley quickly assured her. “I don’t understand why a woman like yourself has to be put through this. It makes no sense to me. Anyone can see that you feared for your life. Justifiable use of force. That’s what it was.”
“Unfortunately, not everyone feels like you do. That woman, the medical examiner, for one.”
“Hitch Roberts. I know,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’d think as a woman, she would be more understanding.”
“My father-in-law is even worse. Not that I blame him. His son is dead, but he raised him. That’s why Bart doesn’t want to believe what really happened. It would reflect on him and the Collinwood name.”
All the sheriff could do was nod for a few moments. “You got yourself a good lawyer?”
“I hope so. If I do get out on bail, will I be able to go back out to the ranch?”
“I don’t see why not,” Charley said. “They’re through with your house. I had someone go out there and clean things up for you. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Sheriff, that is so sweet.” Tears filled her eyes. “Thank you so much. That is so thoughtful. But I doubt I can ever go into that kitchen again.”
“She never went in there much anyway,” Bart Collinwood said behind the sheriff as he came into the room. “It wasn’t like she was much of a wife to my son.”
The sheriff turned on him. “I told you, you aren’t allowed in here. I won’t have you badgering this woman.”
“You told me a lot of things, Sheriff, but I just talked to the governor and he said I have every right to face the woman who killed my son.”
“In court. In the meantime...” Charley pulled out his phone to call Security as Collinwood took a step toward the bed.
“You will pay for what you did,” Bart declared, pointing a finger at her. “If I have my way, you’ll rot in prison.”
“Security is on the way,” the sheriff said. “Unless you want me to arrest you—”
“On what charge?” Bart demanded. “Anyway, I’m leaving. I’ve had my say.” He looked again at his daughter-in-law. “You might have fooled this local yokel with your crocodile tears, Rachel, but you have never fooled me. You married my son for the Collinwood money. I’ll kill you myself before I’ll let you spend a dime more of it.”
With that, the man stormed out, pushing past the hospital security guard on his way through the door.
“I hope you heard that, Sheriff,” Rachel said, her voice breaking. “He just threatened to kill me. Father like son.” Then she burst into tears.
* * *
EMILY SUTTON SQUIRMED in the chair as the video recorder was turned on. She looked so young in her jeans and T-shirt. Hitch had asked to sit in on the interview with the waitress who was allegedly having an affair with Humphrey Collinwood.
The sheriff grumbled and complained but agreed. After introducing herself to Emily, Hitch had taken a seat and pulled out her notebook and pen.
“State your name and occupation,” the sheriff said after giving the date and adding that the state medical examiner was also here.
As soon as Emily finished, he asked, “Were you having an affair with Humphrey Collinwood?”
Her eyes widened in alarm. “No.” She shook her head adamantly. “We were just friends.”
“Friends?” the sheriff asked mockingly.
Hitch shot him a warning look. “Would you please describe your friendship, Miss Sutton?”
“He came into the café a lot of mornings.”
“Without his wife?” the sheriff said.
“He said she wasn’t an early riser.” Emily smiled. “He said he liked to watch the sun rise and that he loved the café’s waffles. He always ordered the same thing. He said his wife didn’t cook.”
“What else did he say about his wife?” Hitch asked.
Emily shook her head and looked away for a moment. “Nothing bad. He just seemed...lonely. I got the impression he needed someone to talk to.” She smiled. “I’m a good listener.”
“You aren’t going to tell me that he didn’t talk about his wife, are you?” the sheriff said, ignoring Hitch’s look.
“It wasn’t like he complained about her. He didn’t. I just got the feeling that they didn’t have a lot in common. He’d been looking for a horse for her birthday. She loved pintos and paints. My cousin up in Malta raises them, so I put him in touch with Tom.”
“We’ll need your cousin’s contact information,” Hitch said.
“I can give it to you. He’ll tell you.”
“Did Mr. Collinwood buy a horse for his wife’s birthday?” Hitch asked. “I understand she didn’t ride much.”
“He did,” Emily said. “He showed me a photograph. It’s a beautiful horse. He was hoping that his wife would love it and that they could ride together. He’d hoped i
t would encourage her to ride more.”
“Humphrey ever come over to your house?” the sheriff said, drawing her attention to him again.
“Just to drop off a thank-you present, that’s all. It was my day off and he said he had to fly out the next day for a board meeting. He wouldn’t even come inside.”
“What did he give you?” Hitch asked.
She beamed, clearly pleased with the gift. “It was a miniature carousel. I’d mentioned once that one of my happiest memories was riding a paint horse on a carousel.” She blushed, her joy in the gift from Humphrey reddening her cheeks.
Hitch studied her for a moment, seeing her embarrassment and so much more. “You liked him.”
She nodded. “He was nice. He reminded me of my father.” She looked to the sheriff. “My father died in Afghanistan. He was a marine.”
“You more than liked Humphrey Collinwood,” the sheriff said.
Her head came up, eyes widening. “No. He was just nice to me. He was married. He would never have...” She shook her head and lowered it again. “He told me how much he loved his wife. That’s why he wanted to surprise her with the horse. He said he was trying to find a way to make her happy in Montana.”
“Tell me about the phone call you got from his wife, Rachel Collinwood,” Hitch said, surprising both Emily and the sheriff. “She called you the morning of the shooting.”
Emily nodded, tears in her eyes. “She thought we were having an affair. I told her we weren’t, but she wouldn’t listen. She was upset and wouldn’t believe me.” She paused for a moment. Then said, “Tell me that isn’t what they argued about, what...got him killed.”
“It wasn’t,” Hitch said before the sheriff could speak. “You aren’t to blame.” She stood. “I think we’ve heard enough.”
“Maybe he didn’t have an affair with the waitress, but he wanted to,” the sheriff argued after Emily Sutton left and Hitch had returned from making a call out in the hallway.
Hitch shook her head at him. “You heard her. Humphrey Collinwood loved his wife. He was buying her a horse for her birthday. I called Emily’s cousin. Humphrey Collinwood paid for the horse. It was going to be delivered on his wife’s birthday next week. Does that sound like a man who’s having an affair?”
The sheriff clearly refused to give an inch. “Sounds like a guilty conscience to me.”
Hitch sighed and left before she said something she’d regret.
Back in her hotel room, she watched the videos the sheriff had sent her again of both Ford Cardwell’s statement and then Rachel Collinwood’s. She was even more suspicious of why Humphrey Collinwood hadn’t said a word during the altercation. Ford had heard only Rachel’s voice. It was almost as if the husband hadn’t been there. And yet she hadn’t found any needle marks on the body.
“What are we looking for?” the lab tech asked when Hitch called to request more tests to be run on the samples.
“Run the whole drug spectrum,” she told her. There had to be a reason Humphrey Collinwood hadn’t spoken at all during the time Ford had been listening in on the alleged pocket-dialed phone call. If he wasn’t already dead, then he had to have been drugged or incapacitated in some way.
“Can you put a rush on it?” Hitch asked. “I’m worried that my suspect will make bail tomorrow and that might be the last time we ever see her.”
“You’re that sure she’s a flight risk?”
“If she thinks she might be doing time, she’ll run.”
The lab tech asked, “Anything in particular you’re thinking you’re going to find?”
“Something that would debilitate a two-hundred-pound male. Or possibly enrage one. I’m betting it’s the first—if there was a drug in his system at the time of his death. Look for something...unusual.” Rachel wouldn’t have used anything she thought would show up in a normal drug sample taken during the autopsy.
“That is the whole spectrum,” the lab tech said with a laugh. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Hitch disconnected and sighed. She doubted she was going to be able to sleep. She’d talked to the doctor earlier. Rachel Collinwood would be released from the hospital and arraigned tomorrow. If the judge gave her bail, then the woman would be free. Rich, as well. The judge would confiscate her passport, but any fool knew how easy it would be for a woman with her resources to get one in another name and slip the loop.
Except Hitch was determined that wasn’t going to happen if she had anything to do with it.
The question was, where did Ford Cardwell fit into all this once Rachel was free?
She’d seen the haunted look in his eyes. After what he’d been through, what was it doing to him being this involved with an old flame suspected of murder?
Hitch guessed she would know tomorrow. What would Ford do once Rachel was out on bail? Go back to Big Sky? He was Rachel’s defense, her proof that she feared for her life. Would she want to keep him around? Now that he’d given his statement to law enforcement, she really didn’t need him anymore.
All Hitch’s instincts told her that the woman was through with Ford. He’d played his part and now he needed to walk away. But would he? It would depend on how deep he was in all this.
Either way, if Hitch was right, Ford was in a very dangerous place. She wondered if he was beginning to realize it. Pulling out her phone, she called his cell phone number.
“It’s state medical examiner Henrietta Roberts. Hitch? Where are you?”
It seemed to take him a moment, as if he had to place her name. “At the hospital.”
Of course he was, she thought. “I need to talk to you again.”
“It’s late. Can’t this—”
“No, it can’t wait,” she said. “I’m on my way. How about we meet in the waiting room on Mrs. Collinwood’s floor?”
It took her longer to get there than she’d planned. When Hitch pushed open the door to the waiting room, she stopped cold with the realization that she’d caught Ford in an unguarded moment. He looked so miserable that she knew instinctively that it had more than something to do with this case. She couldn’t imagine the trauma he’d gone through when he was overseas with the military. She knew a little about survivor’s remorse and wondered if that wasn’t playing a part in this.
Did she still believe that he’d been in on this with Rachel? The woman had needed an accomplice to pull it off. She hadn’t beaten herself and neither had Humphrey Collinwood. Whoever had helped her kill her husband had to be as cold-blooded as she was. Or he’d gotten himself into something he now regretted. As miserable as Ford looked, she feared he might be that man.
Right now, sitting there in this room alone, he looked like what she realized he was. A broken man. Her heart hurt for him. She wanted to go to him, take him in her arms, mend every broken part of him. The emotions surprised her, especially with him so deeply involved in this case.
But she pushed those emotions down. She had to come at him again. It felt cruel, but she had to do her job. He was involved one way or another. Maybe it had only been when Rachel had “accidentally” called him in the middle of her life-and-death situation. Or maybe long before that.
Either way, Hitch had to get to the truth.
She cleared her voice and Ford looked up, a shield coming back up as he quickly rose to his feet. “Why don’t we step into the doctor’s office again? It will be more private.”
He looked as if he’d rather have a root canal, but he came with her.
Again, she turned on her phone to record their interview. After she’d entered the date, time and who was in the room, she said, “I’ll tell you what’s bothering me. It must be bothering you, too. Why didn’t Humphrey speak during the phone call?”
“I have no idea, like I told you. The call wasn’t that long.”
“It was actually longer than you think. During that time, the only voice you he
ard was Rachel’s. Where were you again when you got the call?”
“I was up in the mountains.” He glanced away. He was definitely hiding something.
“What were you doing in the mountains? Hiking, fishing—”
“Just driving around. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back in Montana. I just needed some time to myself.”
“So you were alone.” A nod. “What was your first thought when you heard—” she checked her notes “—a scream?”
He seemed to think about it. “I realized it was a woman in trouble, but I had no idea who it was. I hadn’t checked to see who the call was from. I tried to get her to answer me.”
“But she never did?”
“That’s when I realized it must have been a pocket dial.”
Hitch gave it a minute. “You didn’t recognize her voice?” He shook his head. “Once you heard her say her husband’s name, you must have been shocked.”
“More than you can know,” he said. “I couldn’t believe it was Rachel and that the man she was begging not to hurt her was Humphrey. I still can’t believe it.”
“Neither can I,” Hitch agreed. “What would you say is your relationship to Mrs. Collinwood?”
“I don’t have a relationship with her.”
“Because you hadn’t seen or talked to either of them for fifteen years, since their wedding, right?”
“No. Not until we reconnected through social media a few weeks ago.” He looked as if he wanted to say more but had stopped himself.
She raised a brow. “I believe you said in your statement that he was your best friend, and yet the three of you went fifteen years without talking or seeing each other. Something must have happened. Did he realize you were in love with his wife?”
He opened his mouth, closed it and opened it again. “Are we back to this?”
“You dropped everything to come running when she needed you. This sounds like your feelings run deeper than that of an old friend from college whom you hadn’t even been in contact with for fifteen years.”
