by Debra Webb
A new tension trickled through Colt. “Did he have anything to do with her death?”
“Chicago PD investigated and concluded that she was killed by a crazed crackhead. She was a victim of circumstance—in the wrong place at the wrong time, according to their report. Said crackhead ended up dead in his cell. Hanged himself with his pants.”
“Bateman lost it and decided he had to get away?” Didn’t make a whole lot of sense for a guy sitting pretty, as Branch put it, in a mob family. Bateman hadn’t gotten where he was at the time by being stupid. He lost the woman he loved, but why throw everything else away? Even Colt knew that a man just didn’t leave an organized crime family once he was in—particularly as deep as Bateman had been.
“Sophia was young and idealistic,” Branch explained. “Her father’s intentions for her made it easy for her to decide to go after him. She wanted out of the family business and she was willing to sell Daddy out to make it happen. Despite the seemingly cut-and-dry circumstances of her death, the FBI believes her father discovered what she was up to and ordered her executed.”
God Almighty. “Do you think her own father had her killed?”
Branch nodded. “I do. So does everyone else who worked the federal side of the investigation. At any rate, she and Bateman hadn’t turned over what the agent needed to move on Cicero. At the time, the thinking was that after she was murdered Bateman took the evidence as a sort of insurance for his future.”
“Does Sarah know about this Sophia Cicero?” Colt could just imagine how she would feel knowing her husband had lived this sort of life before showing up here. But to know he did so because he’d loved another woman would be a hard pill to swallow. Worse, Sarah had to feel as if their marriage and their children were nothing more than a cover for him to stay hidden from the reach of his former life. Yet she wanted to protect him. She loved him despite it all, that was clear.
“If she does, she’s not talking.” Branch shook his head. “We need her to cooperate.”
Colt scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Bateman is a possible witness in a major federal case. I guess I can see why you need to assume control of the investigation.”
“It’s not personal, Colt,” Branch assured him. “We have an opportunity here and we have to be extremely careful. Cicero has murdered dozens of people, not to mention he’s thought to be supplying drugs and guns at an unparalleled level and pace. We need to stop him and his organization once and for all. Bateman—Sauder—can make that happen.”
Colt nodded. “I’ll do everything in my power to help.”
Branch clapped him on the back. “We appreciate it. Your deputies need to be on their toes. Cicero will keep sending his people until he finds Bateman. You can count on that. They won’t think twice about killing anyone who gets in their way.”
Colt got it. No one was safe until Bateman was found.
Sarah met him at the bakery door with his bag of goodies. Her eyes told him all he needed to know. She was counting on him to protect her husband...to protect her future.
With his coffee ensconced in the cup holder and his muffin in hand, Colt headed for the office. His first step was to get the word out to his deputies that he needed everyone focused 24/7 on finding Sauder until this was done. Next, he intended to talk to Audrey about letting folks in the community know they had to take the necessary precautions. A press conference couldn’t be put off any longer.
* * *
AFTER BRIEFING HIS deputies and arranging a press conference for five that evening, Colt dropped by the paper. He wanted to give Rey a heads-up. He’d promised her an exclusive and he intended to deliver on that promise. She would want to be at the press conference. He’d told his assistant he would notify the Gazette personally.
As soon as he walked into the lobby he spotted Rey in her office. He removed his hat and stood for a moment staring up at her beyond the glass wall. Each of the offices had a glass wall that looked out over the lobby. She was arranging something on the small conference table in her office. Maybe the layout for tomorrow’s paper.
He liked watching her. The way she moved, so purposeful yet so graceful, the way her blond hair fell around her shoulders. Most of all he loved to hear her talk. Loved her laugh. Mostly, he loved everything about her. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. No matter the hurt that stood between them and the years that had passed; he still considered her his.
Not smart, Colt.
“Good afternoon, Sheriff. May I help you?”
He drew his gaze from Rey to the receptionist. “Morning, Tanya. I was just going up to see Rey.”
“Sure. I’ll let her know you’re on the way up.”
He crossed the room and climbed the iron staircase. Rey’s father had been into transparency before it became a popular buzzword. The offices had their glass walls, and so did the printing room and the big conference room. The local schoolkids loved touring the building and seeing the way the news business worked. Visitors and clients could see the inner workings firsthand by just walking into the lobby. No matter that Rey had traveled the world and had such an exciting career; he had always believed this was where she belonged.
She waited for him at her office door. “I’m hoping your visit is about news on the case. I have a big hole in tomorrow’s front page.”
“I have plenty to share, you just can’t print all of it yet.”
She gave a nod. “Come in. Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
Colt spent the next twenty minutes explaining everything Branch had told him. Rey listened, nodded occasionally, but didn’t ask any questions. He was beginning to think Branch had already spoken to her when she finally reacted.
“You want to warn the community to be on the lookout for any suspicious strangers.”
This wasn’t a question. She understood that he had a responsibility to do just that. “To the best of my ability. I can’t mention the Cicero family, I can only tell them to report any suspicious activity or strangers who approach them asking questions about any other residents.”
“Wow.” She leaned back in her chair. “You live in a small town to avoid this kind of thing and then it comes to you.”
“Someone usually brings it,” he pointed out.
She nodded but she seemed preoccupied. She had appeared to be distracted the whole time he was bringing her up to speed. Something wasn’t right. “You okay, Rey? I mean, you seem particularly unsettled by all this.”
“Do you remember when we were kids, your father ever talking about anything like this? You know, organized crime in Franklin County?”
He thought about her question for a moment, then shook his head. “There’s been the occasional locally organized crime. A drug lab. We even had a team of counterfeiters once. But nothing like this, that crossed state lines.”
“I just remember overhearing some things my dad said when I was about twelve. I’ve checked the files, there weren’t any particular stories about organized crime going on at the time, certainly nothing beyond our state lines. But there was something. I just haven’t found it yet. A contact of mine in Chicago said there were mentions of Winchester in some of the wiretaps the Feds had done on one or the other crime families in Chicago.”
That was news to Colt. “Branch didn’t mention anything, but I’ll ask him.”
She nodded. “I appreciate it. So, I’ll put together what I can for tomorrow’s paper and urge the folks to be on the lookout.”
Colt took that as his cue and stood. “I’ll be on my way.” He settled his hat into place. “Just so you know, I enjoyed having your company during last night’s stakeout.”
She blushed and that made him smile. “As I recall, you hijacked my stakeout.”
He grinned. “I guess I did.”
He was at her door when he worked up the nerve to ask the other question on his mind. He turned back to her
. “Maybe we can talk about the case some more over dinner?”
She smiled. “Maybe.”
He gave her a nod and went on his way. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t the usual hell no, either.
They were making progress.
Chapter Eleven
Franklin County Veterinary Clinic
Audrey waved to Burt Johnston’s receptionist as she passed through the lobby. Burt had told her to come on back at quarter to four. The yapping of dogs accompanied her trek toward the offices. This was the largest clinic in the county. Burt took care of everything from birds to horses. He didn’t really do much of the hands-on work himself anymore. There were four veterinarians and several assistants. He mostly oversaw the operation and focused on being the county coroner.
She waved to one of the techs she’d gone to high school with before knocking on Burt’s closed door. The other woman was busy examining a black Lab. Audrey hadn’t had a dog or a cat since she was a kid. Now that she was back home maybe she should think about getting one.
The big old house was a lot lonelier than she remembered. Of course she’d never lived there alone before. A dog would be nice.
“Audrey, if that’s you, come on in. If it’s anyone else, go away.”
She laughed as she opened the door. “It’s me.”
He dropped his feet from his desk to the floor and sat up straight. “Close the door behind you.” He closed the romance novel he was reading and tucked it into a drawer.
Audrey did as he asked and moved a cat from the chair in front of his desk. The animal curled around her ankle and purred. “Good kitty.” She lowered into the chair and stroked the furry beast now stretching and rolling on the floor. She did all this so Burt wouldn’t see her grinning about his secret attraction to romance novels. Her mother had told her when she was a kid that Burt loved to read the same books she did. She made Audrey promise not to tell and she never had.
He finished off his cola and sat the can on his desk. “You want chocolate?” He held the bag of chocolate candy up for her to see.
“No thanks.”
He stuffed another piece into his mouth before hiding the bag in the file cabinet behind his desk. “Ever since the heart attack I have to hide everything I enjoy.”
“Mrs. Johnston wants to take care of you.” A wiry tail switched back and forth as the cat waited for more attention. Audrey scratched at her belly.
“There are some things a man needs and, for me, those things are my chocolate, my books and the occasional nip of bourbon.” He shrugged. “The way I see it, what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
Audrey understood now. “Your staff would tell her about the chocolate if they knew.” She nodded toward the file cabinet.
“Spies,” he griped. “Every one of them.”
She bit back the smile. “I’m certain they mean well.”
He grunted. “So how can I help you today, Audrey? You want to know something about those two bodies?”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about my dad.”
His bushy eyebrows knit together as his face furrowed into a frown. “That was a while ago, Rey. He had a heart attack. There wasn’t any need for an autopsy. His personal physician confirmed a diagnosis of coronary artery disease. He was young for the disease to have been so advanced, but that’s the way it is sometimes. He’d been taking medicine, but sometimes it’s just too little, too late. Your momma witnessed the heart attack so there wasn’t any question about cause of death. What specifically about his death is on your mind?”
“Did you examine his body closely? The way you would one when foul play is suspected?” She doubted he did but she needed to know.
“Now that I did. In those days I was still learning a lot. Much of taking care of animals is the same as taking care of humans, but there are still considerable differences. Every new body was an opportunity to familiarize myself with procedure. To tell you the truth, every body tells a different story. Edward DuPont taught me a lot. He says you can read a body the same way you can a book. His daughter says the same thing. She spoke of it in that book she wrote, The Language of Death.”
Rowan DuPont was older than Audrey but she remembered her. She’d had a twin sister who drowned. Not long after her mother had hanged herself. Tragic. The DuPonts always seemed a little strange. Maybe it was because they lived and worked in the family funeral home.
Audrey shifted her thoughts back to her father. “Did you note any signs of a struggle? Bruises or scratches?”
Burt opened his mouth, but then snapped it shut. “Give me a minute. Do you have time for me to pull the file?”
Audrey moistened her lips and nodded. “Absolutely.”
He turned his back to her and started riffling through the drawers of the file cabinets lining the wall behind his desk. “The clinic’s files are in the file room. These files are related to my work as coroner.”
“How long have you been serving as coroner?” She couldn’t remember but she knew he was in the position when her father died. Seeing his face and hearing his reassuring words had stuck with her all these years. There wasn’t a lot about that night she remembered, but Burt was one part she did recall.
“Here we go.” He shoved the drawer closed and turned to settle back into his chair.
Audrey reminded herself to breathe.
Burt placed the manila folder on his desk. It looked so innocuous. Like hundreds of others in this building and back at her office at the newspaper. But this one was very different. Inside that folder were the final reports related to her father’s last moments of life and his death.
Burt glanced up at her. “You’re welcome to look at the file yourself, if you’d like.”
She held up a hand and shook her head. She wasn’t sure she could bear to see the photos. “You can give it to me in layman’s terms.”
“All right. So there was a small scratch on the side of his neck. Nothing significant. He could have done it shaving that morning or even scratching himself.” Burt made humming sounds as he perused the file. The sort that suggested he was questioning what he was reading or was confused by it somehow.
Her nerves were jangling by the time he looked up over his glasses. “There was a bruise on his right shoulder. One on his lower back. And another on his left shin. My notes show that your mother said he’d taken a tumble down the stairs the night before.”
“Oh.” Audrey nodded. “I remember now.” This was a lie, but she understood that if her mother had told that story, it needed to be told.
Burt studied her for a long moment. “Is there something you’re worried about related to your father’s death?”
The words were on her tongue. But she couldn’t share her true concerns with him or anyone else. “No. No. It’s something one of my contacts said to me about this Sauder case.”
Burt closed the file and cocked his head. “I am now thoroughly confused.”
“He has evidence that during the same time frame, when my dad died, there was some organized crime activity related to the same group involved in the Sauder case going on in Winchester. He couldn’t say what the connection was, just that it involved Winchester at that particular time. Colt said he doesn’t recall anything happening at that time but he’s going to check his files.”
Burt tapped his forefinger against his chin. “There was a little something-something going on at the newspaper. Mary Jo should remember. As I recall Porter said there was a push coming from up north to buy up a bunch of newspapers around here, in Alabama and Georgia. You know, Southern small-town papers. I don’t recall the reasoning, but Phil said Porter was fired up about it. That was perhaps a month before he passed.”
Audrey’s heart pounded a little harder with each word he uttered. “Did my father mention anyone calling him or visiting him in relationship to this push to buy?”
“N
o, not that I remember. You should ask Phil. I’m certain he would know. He and your father were partners after all.”
But Phillip had said he knew nothing—that her dad knew nothing—about any issues related to organized crime. Had he been left out of the loop? Or had he lied to her? She couldn’t exactly call him a liar. What she needed was some sort of evidence.
“Thanks, Burt, for looking into this for me.” She stood and reached across his desk, offering her hand.
He pushed to his feet, gave her hand a shake. “You let me know if there’s anything else I can assist you with. I’m always happy to try to help solve a good mystery.”
All of these pieces of information definitely met the criteria for a mystery.
As Audrey left the clinic she couldn’t stop obsessing on the idea that Phillip had lied to her. Her mom’s story about the fall down the stairs was the only explanation she could have given to cover for the bruises.
How else was she going to explain what really happened without confessing to murder?
* * *
PINE HAVEN REALLY was a lovely place if one had to be imprisoned. In reality it was a prison of sorts. Or maybe the minds of the residents were the real prisons. Her mother was physically fit, but her mind had let her down. Now she had to live like this.
Audrey regretted the thought instantly. Facilities like Pine Haven were a godsend in situations like her mom’s. Yet it felt wrong to keep her here. She had loved that big old rambling house. She would have stayed there until the day she died if not for her inability to remember what she’d done two minutes ago. Like walking out of the house and leaving the burner turned on under an empty teakettle. Or the faucet running in the tub. Or the door unlocked. The car running in the garage. All those things had happened and Audrey had been left with no choice.
She found her mom on the terrace staring out over the beautifully landscaped grounds. Audrey sat down in the chair beside her. “It’s a lovely day.”
