by Erin Lanter
“I don’t suppose you know why she’d come to your house, a total stranger, just to talk.”
Tessa sighed. “She’d been seeing my ex-husband. He broke it off one afternoon, and that evening she came to my house. Apparently she had it in her head that we were getting back together and wanted me to know she wasn’t giving up.”
“Seeing someone outside your window must have been frightening,” Detective Dunn empathized.
Tessa nodded.
“Would you say you felt threatened by her? Like maybe you needed to defend yourself?” Detective Jefferson challenged.
Tessa tilted her head. “I’ve been more than cooperative in answering your questions, Detective. Would you please tell me what this is about? I think you owe me that courtesy.”
“One of your neighbors found Camille Walker shot in your home early this morning.”
Tessa blinked. “I’m sorry. Did you just say that Camille was shot in my house? What was she doing there?”
“I was hoping you’d tell me, Ms. James.”
Tessa’s eyes tracked a boy riding his bicycle down the street. “This is why you’ve been asking about my gun? I haven’t shot it in months.”
“The evidence disagrees with you, I’m afraid. We found a forty-five lying next to her body. It’s being checked for fingerprints and residue as we speak.”
“Camille was shot in my house? Maybe by my gun?” Tessa asked. She had the strangest feeling that she was floating above her body. “That’s impossible.”
Detective Jefferson stood. “I’m afraid it looks like it’s very possible, and that you’re the most probable suspect.”
“But I’m not even staying there!” Tessa protested. “In case you’ve forgotten, someone has broken into my house on at least two occasions. That is the person who probably shot her.”
Just before he walked out the door, Detective Jefferson turned to her and said, “Ms. James, if you’re the praying type, you’d better start begging God to let her live. Otherwise, you might find yourself facing a murder charge.”
“But I had no reason to want her dead,” Tessa called at the detective’s retreating back.
As the cruiser drove away, she wiped the sweat from her forehead and took deep, calming breaths in attempt to regain her equilibrium.
They didn’t arrest me. At least that’s something, she reminded herself.
If she didn’t know any better, she’d think somebody knew all her worst nightmares, and, over the past six days, was forcing her to live them one by one.
58
Clenching her teeth against the shaking, Tessa walked through the kitchen and into the garage, where Drew had insisted she park her car to keep it out of sight. He’d made her promise to stay put and not try to go anywhere while he was at the office, but these were extenuating circumstances. He needed to know about Camille, and it couldn’t be done on the phone.
Never in a dozen lifetimes would she have imagined she’d be a suspect in a shooting.
This is all so absurd, she thought angrily. I wasn’t even home. I’ve been staying at Drew’s.
The fact that Camille had been shot inside her home didn’t look good. She’d known that before Detective Jefferson even pointed it out. Somehow they’d turn this into a crime of passion.
What was she doing in my house? How did she get in? Tessa wondered, then remembered that it must not have been very hard, considering this wasn’t the first – or even second – time someone had broken in this week.
As the questions tumbled around in her head, Tessa had the sinking feeling that whatever had happened to Camille was intended for her.
Of course it was. How could the police believe anything different? Nothing like this had ever happened until I went for that blasted walk and saw what that psychopath was doing.
Tessa’s stomach churned. How could Detective Jefferson really believe she shot Camille?
She turned her car toward Drew’s office. What will he think? Tessa worried. Surely he’ll know I wouldn’t do something like that. Besides, he knows I was at the house all night.
Right?
A new wave of panic swept over her. After she picked up her work from her office and got the threatening email, she’d holed up in the guest room to work. The only time she’d come out was to get a pizza she’d ordered from the delivery guy. She didn’t know if Drew slept on the floor outside her room or not. Avoiding him as much as possible seemed to be the best way to protect him if that awful man really was watching. Unless he’d slept on the floor outside her door again, he’d never know if she slipped out during the night. For all he knew, she could have gone to her own house, shot Camille, and sneaked back in without him ever knowing.
Even if he was outside the door, he’d always been a heavy sleeper and she could have easily crept around him.
Once in the parking lot of Drew’s office building, she parked, quickly glanced around, then ducked her head and walked inside.
Tessa tensed when she saw Dorothy sitting dutifully at her desk.
What is she doing here on a Sunday? Tessa wondered.
“You can’t go in there,” Dorothy said, an air of authority in her voice. Dorothy loved Drew like an overprotective mother would. After the divorce, she had been vigilant about looking out for him. Now the evil ex-wife was there to wreak havoc on Drew’s life, and Dorothy was ready to defend him.
Tessa turned and smiled. “Hi, Dorothy. How are you?” Tessa was surprised how civil she sounded. She’d never liked Dorothy.
Dorothy scowled at her. “What do you want with Drew?”
Tessa’s smile fell. What business was it of hers what she wanted with Drew? “I just need to talk to him.”
“He’s in a meeting and can’t be disturbed,” Dorothy said coldly, then turned her attention back to a stack of papers on her desk.
Tessa looked toward Drew’s office. The door was open, and he was sitting at his desk, alone, eyes fixed on the paper he was holding.
She took a step toward his office only to be scolded by the overbearing assistant. “I told you he’s in a meeting,” she growled.
Tessa was sure no wolf was more intimidating than the woman behind her. She turned to face her. “You know, Dorothy, that would be a lot more convincing if the whole front wall of his office wasn’t glass.” She turned and took several steps toward Drew’s office, Dorothy hot on her heels. Tessa tapped lightly on the door frame.
Drew looked up, surprise and annoyance registering on his face. “Tessa, what are you doing here?”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. James,” Dorothy said breathlessly. “I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen.” Dorothy stared daggers at Tessa.
A smile tugged at the corner of Drew’s mouth. “That’s quite all right, Dorothy. Thank you.”
Dorothy snorted and walked away, dropping heavily into the chair behind her desk.
“I can’t believe you overpowered the palace guard,” Drew said, chuckling.
Tessa shook her head and hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “I wonder how she’s going to replay that.”
Drew shrugged. “I don’t know, but if you stick around, I bet you’ll find out. I’m sure it will be an Academy Award-winning performance,” he said, laying the papers on his desk and intertwining his fingers. “What was so important that you were willing to go toe to toe with Dorothy? Not to mention the risk of that guy following you. You promised you’d stay home and keep a low profile,” he scolded.
Tessa took a shuddering breath and sat in the chair on the opposite side of Drew’s desk. “I’m in trouble, Drew.”
“More trouble? What’s with you these days?” he asked. Tessa wasn’t sure if he was trying to be funny or if he was genuinely upset.
Tessa dropped her eyes and twisted her hands together. “It’s Camille. She’s been…shot.”
Drew sank back in the chair as though the wind had been knocked out of him. “Shot? You can’t be serious.”
Tessa nodded.
“Who woul
d want to hurt Camille?”
“I don’t know. The police just questioned me at the house. I assume they’ll be trying to contact you soon.”
Drew went quiet. When Tessa finally looked at him, he was staring straight ahead, shaking his head. “This can’t be happening.” He rubbed his face, suddenly looking as if he hadn’t slept in a week.
“I’m so sorry, Drew,” Tessa said quietly. It was obvious Drew had really cared about Camille.
He pulled his gaze away from whatever he’d been staring at and looked at her. “Wait a minute. You said you were in trouble. How does Camille getting shot have anything to do with you?”
She didn’t say anything.
“Tessa, what’s going on?” Drew urged.
“She was shot at my house. Apparently it happened last night.”
“Your house? What was she doing at your house?”
“I don’t know. I’ve been wondering the same thing.” Tessa wrapped her arms around her torso and added, “I think the police think I did it.”
“You? Why would they think you did it? You don’t even have a gun.”
Tessa dropped her eyes to her lap. “Actually, I do,” she admitted.
“Since when?” Drew asked, incredulous.
“Since we got divorced and I’ve had to live by myself in an undesirable part of town,” she said, then rolled her eyes up to the ceiling and exhaled. “I don’t even like guns. I only practiced with it a few times.”
Drew ran his fingers through his hair. “What’s going to happen to you?”
Tessa shrugged and splayed her hands out in front of her. “I don’t know. Detective Jefferson just questioned me at the house. He said they’re running some tests on the gun to see if mine is the one that shot her. I guess depending on what comes back, I’ll either be in the clear or up to my eyeballs.”
Drew shook his head tightly. “That’s ridiculous. You’d never hurt anybody.”
“I know. I’m afraid my having a gun might give the police a different impression, though.”
“Well, you couldn’t have done it anyway. You have an alibi. You were at my house all night. I can testify to that,” Drew offered.
“Can you?” Tessa challenged.
“What are you talking about? Of course I can.”
“And when was the last time you saw me?”
“About seven. When you got your pizza from the delivery guy.” His eyes widened. “You were in your room all day. But I was in the house all night, and so were you.”
“I could have sneaked out, you know. Done the deed, then been back before you realized I was gone.”
“Oh, please. That’s ridiculous. There’s no way you left my house, drove there, just happened to find Camille in your house, shot her, and came back pretending nothing happened. There’s no way.” Drew shook his head emphatically.
“I know that,” Tessa agreed, “but I don’t think Detective Jefferson is going to see it that way. If results show that my gun was the one used to shoot her…” Tessa looked at Drew in anguish. “I’m in big trouble.”
59
Camille blinked against the bright lights shining above her. Where am I? she wondered.
As she regained consciousness, pain shot through the right side of her stomach. She groaned. A nurse was immediately by her side.
“Welcome back, Ms. Walker. How are you feeling?” the nurse asked in a cheerful tone that annoyed Camille to her core.
“Just peachy,” she answered sarcastically.
“We have someone here who would like to see you. Would you be up for a visitor?”
Hope sprang up in Camille’s chest. “Yes, of course.”
“It will be just a few minutes,” the nurse said, then turned as she walked from the room.
Panic replaced the hope she’d been feeling only moments before. Though she had no mirror, Camille was certain she looked awful. After quickly wiping her eyes, she slapped her cheeks and ran her fingers through her hair. That was the best she could do.
She pushed the call button. After what seemed like forever, the nurse reentered the room.
“Can I get something for the pain? I feel horrible.”
“Right away, Ms. Walker. You’re due for another dose, anyway.” The nurse disappeared as quickly as she’d come.
Right away my foot, Camille fumed.
She huffed and wondered who was there to see her. She had no family and only a few friends.
Then, sighing happily, she realized it could only be one person. Deciding she could make her appearance work in her favor, she shrunk down further in the bed and tilted her head to one side, forcing an expression of misery onto her face. Not that it was hard when she felt so awful.
At the light knock on the door, she turned her head expectantly.
“Hi,” the visitor said softly. “How are you feeling?”
Camille’s hope was dashed. “Oh, it’s you.”
“It’s nice to see you, too,” Beth said.
“I was hoping you were Drew,” Camille complained.
Beth spread her arms. “What gave me away?” she asked lightly, then her tone turned serious. “What happened to you?”
Camille shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“You have no idea?” Beth asked, surprise in her voice.
Camille shrugged against the pillow.
Beth hesitated a moment. “Nobody has talked to you about what happened?”
“No. They said something about a shot, but no one has given me any shots. Just this IV,” she said, pointing to her right arm, “but I don’t think that counts. They only told me I lost a lot of blood and have anesthesia or something, so I can’t remember anything.”
Beth coughed into her hand to cover her laugh. “You mean amnesia?”
“Yeah, that. Don’t make fun of me. I think these pills are making me loopy.”
Just then, the nurse returned with a small cup of water and a pill Camille figured must have been a horse tranquilizer. She popped the pill in her mouth and chased it with the shot-glass sized cup of water, nearly choking as it went down.
“Aren’t I on some kind of schedule? This was supposed to be here a while ago.” Camille closed her eyes and rested her head back against the pillow.
The nurse narrowed her eyes at Camille, and without saying a word, left the room.
“Is she gone?” Camille asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. These nurses are so annoying,” she muttered. “Where were we? And be quick. Whatever they gave me will knock me out cold in just a few minutes.”
Beth smirked. “We were talking about your anesthesia.”
Camille opened her eyes and shot Beth a withering look.
Beth cleared her throat. “Sorry. We were talking about what happened to you.” She lowered her voice. “Camille, you were at Tessa James’s house. And they aren’t going to give you a shot, you were shot. With a gun.”
Camille raised her head off the pillow. “She shot me?” At once the drowsiness was gone. “Figures,” she mumbled.
“I don’t know who shot you, Camille. Did you see anybody?” Beth urged.
Camille shrugged. “ I don’t know. It happened really fast.”
“Please take this seriously, Camille,” she ordered. “You were the victim of an attempted murder. You’ve got to figure it out. Fast.”
Nodding in agreement, Camille thought a moment, trying to force any snippets from the night before into her memory. She vaguely remembered having a key in her hand. There had been a noise, and she’d gone to check it out. A door opened, and someone had been standing there with a gun. She didn’t remember the face. That part was fuzzy.
It could have been Tessa.
It could have been anybody.
60
Back at the station, Isaac Dunn slammed the folder he was holding onto his desk.
“What crawled up your shorts?” Al asked.
Isaac answered with a cold glare.
“What?”
�
��What was that when we were talking to the James woman?” the younger detective demanded.
“What was what?”
“That,” he said, pointing to the general direction of outside. “You wouldn’t even let me talk.”
Al shook his head. “I was questioning a possible suspect, just like we’ve done dozens of times.”
Detective Dunn crossed his arms over his chest. “No, Al. That wasn’t like the other times. You cut me off every time I tried to ask her a question. You’ve never shut me out of a case before. I want you to tell me what’s going on,” he demanded.
“I told you. It’s nothing.”
Isaac shook his head. “I don’t want to hear it. You’re a good detective, Al, and I’ve learned a lot from you, but even a rookie like me can see you’re dropping the ball with this one. That’s not like you. Whether you like it or not, I’m your partner, and we work these cases together. Tell me what’s going on.”
Al looked at him for a long moment before diverting his eyes to the wall commemorating fallen officers. “Kimberly Hamilton,” he finally said.
Just as Isaac suspected. “That was fifteen years ago. What does Tessa James have to do with that case?”
Al shrugged and looked out the window to the left of the squad room. “Who cares how long ago it was? It happened. It was a mistake I can never undo. She’d have been thirty-two this week. If I’d listened to her parents – to my gut – she might still be alive. Maybe she’d be married with a couple of kids. But I didn’t listen to my gut. I thought she was a troubled kid who ran away. Because of me, the killer had time to murder her and get rid of the body.”
Isaac’s voice softened. “Al, you know you couldn’t have prevented her murder. She never even made it to the movie. She was dead hours before she was even supposed to be home for curfew, before her parents even contacted you.”
“I know.” Al suddenly looked like somebody had let the air out of him. His hulking frame seemed to sag.
“That still doesn’t explain what you have against Tessa James,” Isaac prodded gently. His partner seemed to be on the verge of unraveling.
“Do you remember who Kimberly’s killer was?”
