Crime & Passion

Home > Other > Crime & Passion > Page 11
Crime & Passion Page 11

by Chantel Rhondeau


  “How do you know about the call?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice casual.

  It must have sounded suspicious, because Brandon’s eyes tightened and his mouth made a grim slash across his face. “My police contact mentioned it.”

  Madeline put her foot on the break and placed the car in gear. If she started driving, surely Brandon would move out of the way. Something occurred to her just before she made the decision to gun the engine.

  “Why didn’t you report that in the paper, if you’re so sure he’s guilty?”

  His mouth became even smaller and he seemed to pale. “My source asked me to hold off. Plus, I didn’t want to write something I couldn’t yet confirm. That would be considered libel and Donovan could sue.”

  Your whole article was libelous. I should sue you myself.

  Madeline forced her brightest smile onto her face. “Oh. That makes sense. You’re so good to watch out for me.”

  Brandon leaned in and Madeline turned her head to face the front windshield just as his lips brushed against her. “If Donovan bothers you, call me.” Brandon stepped back, his hand on the top of the door. “I’m going to make sure he goes to prison for his crimes, and I don’t want you hurt in the process.”

  Madeline felt her smile falter, and she eased her foot off the brake. “I’ll call you if I need you.”

  “I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” Brandon shut the door.

  Madeline couldn’t drive away fast enough, glad she wasn’t far from her apartment. Her hands shook so hard, she knew she shouldn’t be driving. She gratefully pulled into her parking spot and dashed into the building to wait for the elevator.

  Even though she hadn’t wanted to call Donovan first, the situation had changed.

  Chapter Ten

  Pounding on the front door pulled Donovan from sleep. He glanced at the clock next to his bed with bleary eyes. Already 11:30. He’d spent all night wracking his brain for people who might want Frank Johnson dead and would also have motive to frame Donovan for the job. He hadn’t even crawled into bed until after 3:30. This morning, he was no closer to figuring out who had a vendetta against both him and Frank.

  Thoughts of Madeline, and the fact she hadn’t called, kept him up tossing and turning long after that. He couldn’t wait to see her again. It finally dawned on him why she was so upset just about the time she closed the door. He needed to explain to her that Maddie didn’t mean the same thing to him as it meant to her. As far as he was concerned, it was the most beautiful name in the world. Besides, he couldn’t believe she worried about her weight. Maddie definitely wasn’t fat.

  The pounding came again, and Donovan dragged himself out of bed. He shrugged into a black robe, tying it around his waist. If he had any way of knowing if it was Madeline at the door, he wouldn’t bother with the robe.

  With his luck, it was probably Chief Stone, there to tell him about some other horrible crime he supposedly committed.

  The person pounded a third time.

  “I’m coming,” he yelled while he walked through the small living room.

  He had a moment’s hesitation before unlocking the door, realizing it might be a good time to tell the landlord he planned to install a peephole. If the killer stood on the other side, Donovan would be unprepared to deal with him.

  He opened the drawer on an end table next to the couch, pulling out his personal Smith and Wesson. The black revolver fit perfectly into his hand. He cocked the hammer and hid the gun behind his back. Just because Stone took his service weapon didn’t mean Donovan was without protection in his own home.

  He opened the door cautiously, but his visitor barged into the room without waiting for him to say anything. He barely had time to register who it was and kept the gun hidden from sight. Her sweet perfume surrounded him as she brushed her body against his.

  “Thank God you’re home. I’ve been calling your cell phone all morning.” Suzie Stone smoothed her black hair behind her ears and put her hands on her hips. “Why aren’t you answering? Dad’s on a rampage.”

  Donovan took a deep breath. He closed the door without saying anything and placed the gun into the drawer as inconspicuously as possible.

  He faced her, ignoring the hero worship in her eyes. It always made him feel so damn guilty. “Suzie, you aren’t supposed to be here.”

  She brushed his concerns aside with a wave of her hand and sat on the couch, folding one leg across the other. “I had to come. I’m in a position to help you, Donovan.”

  He sat gingerly next to her on the couch. Suzie had always seemed fragile, as though made from spun glass that would crack with the slightest pressure. He hadn’t realized how unstable she was until after he agreed to date her. Her extreme naiveté only made things worse. When they broke up, he’d tried to let her down easy, concerned not only about her mental state, but also the wrath of her father and what that could mean for Donovan’s career.

  Since then, she didn’t seem to grasp that they would never be a couple. She watched him from afar nowadays, but in the beginning, right after they broke up, she’d stalked his apartment, waiting for him in the stairwell if he wasn’t home. Worse, she followed him around town as he tried to work.

  It had been a tense few months since making the bad decision to go out with her. Donovan’s old partner had helped talk to her, since Henry planned to retire and move to Florida anyway. After that, she had stopped coming to his home and following him, but she still hung out at the station every chance she got, watching him.

  However, he was curious about her reason for coming here. Maybe Suzie knew something about the murder. “What do you mean you can help me?”

  She smiled and settled further into the couch. “I knew you’d want my help. First, what’s in it for me?”

  Wow. Maybe she’d toughened up a bit since he last spoke to her. “You’d be helping out a friend.” Donovan knew that wasn’t the answer she wanted. He wouldn’t promise what she wanted.

  Her red lips pouted. “I want to be more than your friend.”

  “I’m sorry.” Donovan took her hand, squeezing her delicate skin softly. “I think I’ve found the woman I’m meant to be with. The only thing I can offer is friendship.”

  She took her hand from his and narrowed her eyes. “Maddie.” She spat the word, as though speaking it left a rotten taste in her mouth.

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve only known her a week, Donnie. You don’t know if you really like her. I’ve loved you for ten years. Love me, choose me.” Her eyes pleaded with him, begged him to reconsider.

  Donovan felt like a jerk. When Suzie’s husband died ten years earlier, he knew she had developed a crush on him. He had avoided her for a long time, unwilling to date his boss’ daughter.

  Suzie was a gorgeous woman with long black hair and deep blue eyes—not to mention her extremely hot body. To top it all off, her late husband left her a lot of money. She was a catch by any man’s standards. For some reason, though, Donovan didn’t feel an attraction for her. He had tried. Each date they went on confirmed his feelings further. He’d never love Suzie.

  He shook his head and tears welled in Suzie’s eyes.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  How many other women had he hurt over the years? He knew he had honestly broken the hearts of a few of them, the ones like Suzie who wanted more than a couple nights in his bed. He couldn’t help it. He’d locked away the piece of his heart capable of love a long time ago, pretending he didn’t need it. He’d lied to himself for years, pretending the only thing he wanted was sex.

  Then Madeline came along. He didn’t know why at the time, but he’d felt a connection to her immediately. The more he talked to her, the more he knew what it was. Madeline reminded him so much of his old friend. Madison. The first Maddie. The Maddie he’d planned to marry.

  Donovan swallowed past the lump in his throat, trying to control his emotions. He didn’t know if allowing himself to feel again was a good thing. Looking int
o Suzie’s sad face, the guilt was almost enough to crush him.

  “I’m sorry, Suzie,” he whispered. “I can’t help what my heart wants. I know I just met Madeline, but there’s something between us. A connection, like I’m meant to be with her.”

  A tear slipped down Suzie’s face. “That’s how I feel about you.”

  Donovan turned away from her, guilt eating his insides. “I’m sorry.”

  “I wished she’d never moved here.” Suzie leapt to her feet and paced the small path in the living room between furniture. “I hate her. Maybe the killer will take care of her, and then we can be together again, Donnie.”

  Her words pummeled into Donovan, each one a blow to his stomach. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t lose this Maddie, too.

  “Don’t you ever say anything like that again.” He looked at Suzie, trying to keep the hatred he felt for her in that moment off his face. “If Madeline’s murdered, I won’t be running to you. We will never be together.” He walked to the door. “I’m not willing to pay your price for the information you have. It’s time for you to leave.”

  Suzie’s face reddened and she wiped away another tear. “I didn’t mean that. I shouldn’t have said it.” She hugged her arms to her body. “I’ll feel awful if something really happens to her.”

  Donovan said nothing, afraid of what would come out of his mouth if he tried to speak.

  “I’ll tell you what I know,” she said, her eyes meeting his once again. “No matter what, I still love you. I’ll always wish we could be together, and that won’t happen if you end up dead or in jail.”

  He wouldn’t respond to her professing her love again. Naïve, fragile, whatever words he thought described Suzie before, she proved today she had a dark side. He had a feeling Suzie was tougher than he’d given her credit for in the past.

  “What do you have to say?”

  She shook her head. “We’re both angry and need to cool down. Why don’t you get dressed, take a shower, whatever you need to do.” She looked at his robe, clearly judging him for not being dressed when it was nearly noon. “I’ll rummage around in your kitchen and find something to fix for lunch. We can talk while we eat.”

  Donovan wanted to argue, wanted to kick her out of his apartment. Thoughts of Madeline stopped him from doing that. If Suzie knew anything that might help Donovan catch the killer, protecting Madeline in the process, he needed to hear her out.

  “I’ll be out in twenty minutes.” He walked past Suzie and into his bedroom.

  He closed and locked his bedroom door, not trusting her to stay in the kitchen if he didn’t enforce boundaries. He grabbed some clean clothes and headed to the bathroom adjoining his bedroom, turning the water in the shower very hot. He needed to relax and clear his head before dealing with Suzie again.

  One thing was certain, Suzie seemed more unstable than ever before. He needed to keep her away from Maddie.

  ***

  Madeline sat in her favorite chair, staring at the screen on her cell phone. She’d typed Donovan’s number in, but couldn’t quite make herself push the send button.

  What if he was angry? What if he wanted to talk about last night? What if he didn’t bring it up at all, like it meant nothing?

  She didn’t know if she should start out telling him about Brandon, or whether she should offer an apology for yelling at him and kicking him out yesterday. Hell, maybe she should even apologize for kissing him.

  She puffed out a deep breath and listened to the calming sound of the ocean coming in through the open window. “You’re such a chicken,” she told herself, hitting send before she could think longer.

  There was only one way to find out how the conversation with Donovan would go. Besides, she really needed to tell him about her lunch with Brandon. Regardless of the bad blood between the men, Brandon knowing about the call and choosing not to use it in his paper with the other things he reported felt fishy to Madeline. He’d been agitated when she asked how he knew. If it was really information from a police contact, why get upset about it?

  The phone rang for the fourth time and Madeline was sure Donovan’s answering machine would pick up.

  “Hello?” A female, sounding breathless.

  “Excuse me,” Madeline said, startled. “I must’ve dialed the wrong number.”

  “Who you looking for? You’ve called Donovan Andrews’ house.”

  Madeline’s heart dropped. She wasn’t good enough for Donovan, but he apparently found another female to fill his time. And his bed. “May I speak to Donovan, please?” Her voice sounded level, which pleased her. No way would she apologize to him for anything now. She’d just give him the information about Brandon and hang up.

  “I’m sorry, can I ask who’s calling?”

  Like it should matter to his current trick who he talked to. Didn’t she understand he’d replace her tomorrow anyway? “Madeline Scott.”

  “Oh, Maddie.” The woman sounded irritated.

  Madeline rolled her eyes. Must everyone call her Maddie now? “Can you get him, please?”

  “Sorry, Maddie, but I can’t.” The woman chuckled. “He’s still getting his clothes on. It takes him such a long time to get dressed. He’s much faster at undressing, if you know what I mean.”

  Ugh. Not only a floozy, a tactless one. Madeline wanted to get off the phone before the woman gave her a rundown of the positions they’d tried. “Can you ask him to call me sometime when he’s not busy?”

  A breathy laugh. “I plan to keep him busy all day, but I’ll tell him.”

  The line went dead in her ear and Madeline stared out the window, dumbfounded.

  How could she have misjudged things with Donovan so badly? Even hearing what he did to break up Brandon’s marriage hadn’t totally convinced Madeline he was the jerk everyone else saw. She wanted him to be someone else. It would never happen.

  She hoped the woman he bedded today was single. Though, apparently, nothing mattered to Donovan. And Madeline was the only woman in town he wouldn’t sleep with.

  She should feel lucky, like she really dodged a bullet, but she didn’t.

  ***

  Donovan wiped the napkin against his face. Suzie had found something to make from his under-stocked fridge, cooking grilled cheese sandwiches and heating up a can of tomato soup to dip them in. The time apart had cooled both their tempers, and they ate the meal companionably enough.

  “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Donovan asked after Suzie finished the last spoonful of soup.

  “You’re aware my dad thinks you did this, aren’t you?”

  Donovan shook his head and put his chin in his hands on the table. “I hoped he wouldn’t believe that of me.”

  “He, Sanders, and Carter were talking yesterday while I sat outside Dad’s office.” She paused to take a sip of water. “They were talking about the rope used to strangle Frank, and how it matched the sample from the dog’s neck.”

  Donovan nodded his understanding. None of this was new information.

  “Carter said he tracked down where the rope came from,” she said. “A shop in Eureka.”

  Brice Carter was a good cop, someone Donovan greatly respected. He wasn’t surprised the man found a lead. “So what does that have to do with me?” he asked when Suzie didn’t resume talking.

  “The store was Bill’s Big Boy Toys.”

  He knew the place. He’d shopped there often enough. Bill sold guns and ammunition in addition to camping and fishing supplies, hiking gear, ATVs and motorcycles. It was the sort of place guys gathered to while away an afternoon, dreaming about the new things they wanted but their wives wouldn’t approve of them buying. Donovan was friendly with a lot of the workers and visited with the regulars.

  He shrugged. “Should this mean something to me?”

  Suzie sighed, clearly exasperated. “You’re a regular at Bill’s.”

  “Why does that matter? I never bought any rope from Bill.”

  Suzie smiled. Donova
n must finally have asked the right question. “No one bought the rope used to strangle Frank and the dog. I overheard Carter say all lengths of that type of rope were stolen.”

  “It’s good he knows that. Now all they have to do is find a person with a ton of climbing rope.” Donovan didn’t mention the color, knowing the police were withholding that information and not sure if Suzie had overheard that detail.

  “Donnie.” She reached across the table to touch his hand. “I’m telling you this so you can get rid of it before they get a search warrant. They’ll be here as soon as they can find a judge to sign it. Probably not until tomorrow since it’s Sunday. You have time to cover your tracks.”

  “My tracks?” Donovan blinked a few times, replaying her last comments through his mind. “You think I did this?”

  She looked up at the ceiling, a tolerant smile across her lips. “Come on, Donnie. You and I both know Frank Johnson was scum. I don’t blame you, and I know Stephanie is grateful someone delivered her from that evil man.” She stroked her fingers along his forearm. “You were doing community service. And I know there are a few men left to take care of, but you have to get rid of that rope.”

  “I...I don’t know what to say.” He shook his head. “I’m not guilty of anything, Suzie. I don’t have the rope, and I don’t know who killed Frank.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have to pretend with me. It’s okay. I was even thinking I could help you get rid of a few other people. You know, the ones who deserve it.” She giggled, like this was some clever plan. “I read your file. Even though nothing came of the complaints, I know which men are hurting their wives and kids around here, because those are the ones who complained about you assaulting them, aren’t they?”

  My God, Donovan half-swore, half-prayed, this woman’s crazier than I thought.

  Donovan didn’t know what to say or which question to ask first. He was almost afraid to turn Suzie loose at this point. If she thought it would endear her to him, was she crazy enough to try killing some of the wife beaters on her own?

  “How did you see my file?” he finally asked, deciding to ease into the conversation about how wrong it was to kill people.

 

‹ Prev