No One To Trust: Rockford Security Mystery Series

by Dobbs, L. A.

9

  “C’mon, Snickerdoodle.” Shelby clucked her tongue to encourage the large, shaggy dog to follow her. With the enormous plastic cone surrounding his head it made things more difficult, but eventually he bounded up the creaking metal staircase on the side of her slightly shabby brick apartment building. Twilight had finally fallen on what had been one hell of a long day.

  “That’s it, boy,” she encouraged, climbing the rest of the way up to her second floor studio, a cat carrier clutched in each hand. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to keep pets here according to her lease, but all three of these animals were special cases. Snickerdoodle’s fur was just starting to regrow after his previous owners had neglected him to the point where a skin rash had made him gnaw off his own skin to stop the itching. The two cats, as yet unnamed, had been brought in earlier that day with upper respiratory infections requiring round the clock observation for at least a couple of days. It wasn’t like she could leave them alone at the shelter. They’d all been through enough already.

  She reached the upper landing and set one of the carriers down to fish in her pocket for her keys, flipping on the porch light in the process. A legal-sized yellow packing envelope sat propped against her door. Huh. Thinking she must’ve missed the mailman again, Shelby unlocked her door then tucked the envelope beneath her arm and headed inside with her temporary menagerie.

  “Okay, guys.” Propping the door open with her foot to allow the dog in first, Shelby trailed behind with the cat carriers and closed the door behind her with her butt. She set the carriers on the floor and dumped her purse on top of one of them, then bent to open the cages. Both cats scrambled out and headed immediately beneath her overstuffed sofa.

  “Perfect.” She hung her head and figured she could coax them out later for their next round of medication, then turned to Snickerdoodle. “What about you, boy? You hungry?”

  The dog padded over, tail wagging a thousand miles a second.

  “Of course you are.” She ruffled the fur behind his ears and straightened. “Typical guy. Well, let’s get you something to eat.”

  The envelope crinkled under her arm and she laid it on the counter while she fixed Snickerdoodle a bowl of soft food. After she’d filled another with water and set it on the floor for him beside the food, she picked up the packing envelope again and scanned the outside. No postmark. Weird. Her pulse sped faster as she realized it couldn’t have come from the mailman.

  On edge once more, Shelby toed off her sneakers then headed back into her small living room. She didn’t spend a lot of time here at the apartment, with her busy schedule at the shelter, but when she was home she liked the place to be cozy. She sank into an oversized armchair upholstered in light mint green, same as the sofa, and tucked her feet beneath her. If the envelope wasn’t from the post office, then who had delivered it?

  An image of Chase Evans skittered through her mind like a nervous church mouse. He’d shown up once today unannounced, perhaps he’d done it again. Shelby wrinkled her nose. Nah. They’d just met and he knew nothing about her, most especially where she lived.

  Shelby shook her head. Chase Evans was nothing but bad news where she was concerned. It was in her best interest never to see him again, even if he might be her best chance of putting Katherine away.

  She flipped the envelope over. Nothing on the back either. Shrugging, she tore it open. Best way to find out what was in it was to look inside. She pulled out the papers – a draft of Dad’s will. Not the draft she and Chase had found in her dad’s office a few days earlier, but a different one, a new one. She quickly looked it over and found this one left most of her dad’s estate to Katherine.

  Shocked, she lowered the papers and stared at the ceiling. So her step-monster had told the cops the truth the other day? Apparently, her dad really had changed his will. Except that didn’t make any sense. He wouldn’t do something so important without telling his only daughter, would he?

  The clock above the stove in her tiny open kitchen showed six-thirty p.m. Maybe she could still catch someone at the attorney’s office. Shelby reached over and grabbed her cordless phone from the shabby-chic end table and dialed.

  “Butler, Cavanaugh, and Yates. How may I help you?”

  “Yes, this is Shelby Bryant. I need to speak with Mr. Cavanaugh about my dad’s will please.”

  “One moment.” The receptionist’s voice sounded bland as beige. Several seconds passed before she returned to the line. “Hold, please. I’ll connect you.”

  “Rex Cavanaugh,” the attorney said moments later.

  “Yes, Mr. Cavanaugh.” Shelby swallowed hard. For some reason, talking to this guy always made her feel like a bashful child. “This is Shelby Bryant, Warren’s daughter. I received a new copy of my dad’s will today. Someone left it on my front porch in an unmarked envelope.” She was rambling, she knew, but couldn’t seem to stop herself. This guy could care less about her mail. “I wondered if I could ask you a couple of questions.”

  Tone brusque, the lawyer dashed her hopes for answers. “Ms. Bryant, you know I’m not at liberty to discuss a client’s personal business. I’m sorry.”

  He ended the call and Shelby sat a moment staring at the receiver before hanging up. In the few dealings she'd had with Rex Cavanaugh, he'd always been very nice, not at all like he'd just been on the phone. You'd think she would have a right to know her father's legal business now. Unless there was some other reason Rex couldn't discuss it. Maybe the police had him on a gag order or maybe Katherine had gotten to him somehow.

  Okay, then. So much for that route. She replaced the phone in its charger then scanned the papers again. Nothing handwritten, all typed, except for her dad’s signature and the attorney’s. Both of those looked legit as well. Why would someone leave this on her doorstep, knowing it would only upset her, though?

  Snickerdoodle, apparently done with his meal, returned to her side and lay down near the bottom of Shelby’s chair on the hardwood floor. Having the animals around, even temporarily, at least helped ease her loneliness and anxiety. She rubbed her bare toes across the dog’s back and sighed. Then again, maybe upsetting her was the point of the delivery.

  And there was only one person who would get sick pleasure from that.

  Katherine.

  Shelby refused to believe her dad would change his will and leave everything to that money grubbing viper, especially without telling her. They were close, despite what Katherine told the police. Her dad loved her, even if he didn’t always say it. And he sure as hell didn’t trust Katherine, hence the prenup.

  Dammit.

  Shelby shoved the documents back in the envelope then leaned her head back against the chair. Katherine must’ve made the whole thing up to frame her. Eyes closed, she went over the earlier interview with the detectives once more in her mind. If Dad had changed his will, as Katherine wanted the police to believe, then that would create motive for Shelby to kill him.

  What if Katherine had made the will up and sent it on purpose, so the police would find it in her possession? It wouldn't matter if it wasn't officially filed with the lawyer, Katherine could just claim it was her dad's draft, that he intended to file it. She'd even mentioned he had an appointment with the lawyer. And if the police found her with this, it would prove she knew her father was going to change his will—even if it wasn't true.

  Plus, murder and the subsequent incarceration would most likely fall under the “Otherwise unable to inherit” clause her father had put in his real will. If Shelby was charged and sentenced to prison, she was pretty certain she’d lose whatever stake she had left in her dad’s estate. And that meant that Katherine would get it all.

  Shelby hadn't realized how devious Katherine was. This fake will gave Katherine motive to kill Warren, too. But, she'd set the plans in motion brilliantly. Claiming that she knew Warren was changing the will and then killing him—or having him killed—before he had a chance to make it official was a stroke of genius. If the police bought her story, then
they would think that Katherine would be the last person to want Warren Bryant dead before he could change the will to name her as beneficiary.

  Katherine must have been planning this for a while. Which made Shelby wonder what else her evil step-mother had been planning.

  You don’t really think I did it, do you? Katherine set me up…

  Chase’s words from earlier returned to her mind. Given everything that had happened since her dad’s death, she was becoming more and more certain that Chase Evans was telling the truth. She inhaled deep and opened her eyes to find Snickerdoodle now resting his head on her knee, his soft brown gaze staring back at her accompanied by a goofy doggy grin. Hell, maybe Katherine was trying to set up Chase too. Perhaps hedge her bets to throw the cops off.

  “What do you think, boy?” She leaned forward and stroked her fingers through the dog’s soft brown fur then kissed him on the snout. “Maybe Chase was telling us the truth all along, huh?”

  As if in response, Snickerdoodle gave a low, short bark.

  So, what do you say? Want to team up?

  She stood and walked over to grab her purse off the top of the cat carrier then dig inside for the estimate Chase had dropped off earlier at the shelter. With her current circumstances, perhaps having some extra security around the place wasn’t such a bad idea. That way, if anyone tried one of these anonymous drop-offs there, she’d catch them red-handed.

  Near the bottom of the front page, his scribbled words shined boldly back at her: If interested, call Chase Evans. His cell number was below in blocky numbers.

  Karma. That’s what it was. The universe giving her the chance to apologize. Besides, both the kitten and Henry the iguana had taken to Chase right away today at the shelter. If that wasn’t a sign he was a good person deep down, she didn’t know what was. Animals were never wrong.

  Smiling, she pulled out her cell phone and returned to her seat, tucking her toes beneath Snickerdoodle’s warm tummy while he snored loudly. Yep, what went around came around, in her experience. And if she apologized to Chase for all her false accusations then maybe, just maybe, he’d still let her take him up on his offer to team up to find her dad’s real killer.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Chase stood in front of a plain white door of a somewhat rundown apartment complex not far from where he and his brother had lived before Chase’s conviction in North Las Vegas. The area wasn’t super bad and the cost of living was affordable, though he had to admit a bit of shock when he’d learned this was where Shelby Bryant lived. Even more shocking was her inviting him over to discuss a possible partnership.

  Taking a deep breath and swallowing around the lump of tension in his throat, he knocked twice. A dog barked loud inside the apartment and Chase took a step back. Made sense for a single gal to have protection around here and the last thing he needed these days was to get mauled. Plus, given what she did for a living, he should’ve expected at least a few critters sharing her living quarters.

  The door cracked open and Shelby peeked out. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” He rocked back on his heels, unsure what else to say. Not that he had to worry. Before he could utter another word, a huge, fluffy ball of fur charged out the door and tackled him back against the railing of the second-floor landing. Dog breath and slobber covered his face as the mutt’s large plastic cone blocked out Chase’s world.

  “Sorry about that,” she said, grabbing the dog by his collar and pulling him back inside the apartment. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” He ran a hand over his face and chuckled. “Friendly pooch, huh?”

  “Not usually, no.” Shelby stepped aside to allow Chase in, then closed the door behind him. “Snickerdoodle doesn’t usually like strangers. Especially men. He was neglected and his past is kind of sketchy.”

  Chase crouched to pet the dog properly. “Guess we have something in common then don’t we, boy?”

  Shelby gave him an odd look then stepped into a small, galley-style kitchen that was open on one side to the living room. The place was neat and cozy, if tiny as hell.

  “Must be hard keeping a big dog like this in such a small apartment.” Chase laughed as Snickerdoodle pressed his plastic cone against Chase’s chest and snuffled. “How long does he have to wear this thing?”

  “He’s fine. I take him for lots of walks down at Bell Park. And hopefully, he’ll only need the cone of shame for a few more days. His fur’s coming back in pretty nicely now.” She opened the fridge then looked at him over her shoulder. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No. Thanks.” Chase ran his hands down the dog’s somewhat gaunt sides and noticed the bare patches of skin on his haunches. “Bell Park. That brings back memories. Used to play there when I was a kid, then hung out there as a teenager.”

  “You used to live around here?”

  “Yeah.” Chase stood and wiped his hands on the thighs of his jeans. “So, you want to team up, huh?”

  She opened a bottle of water and took a large gulp before answering. “I think Katherine’s trying to frame me for my dad’s murder. I figure we’ve both got reason to prove our innocence. So, let’s find out who the real killer is. If it’s Katherine, great. If not…” She shrugged.

  “I think we both know it’s her.” He crossed his arms. “Who else could it be?’

  “I don’t know.” She frowned. “But I’m trying to keep an open mind. Katherine’s crafty though. If she did do it, anything could be a clue.”

  They settled on the overstuffed sofa in her living room—each on opposite ends—to concoct a plan of action.

  Chase took off his denim jacket and draped it over the back of a nearby chair and decided to address the elephant in the room first. Walking on eggshells wasn’t his specialty. Not anymore. “Listen, before we get started, you understand if we work together we’ll need to get along. And you’ll have to trust me.”

  “That works both ways.” She watched him over the rim of her bottle. “I’m game if you are.”

  “Good. Fine. Okay.” He scooted back into the corner of the sofa. “What have you done so far?”

  “Other than checking my dad’s office the other day? Nothing. But I think Katherine has a plan. She sent me a fake will.”

  “Fake will?”

  “Yeah. Check this out.” Shelby grabbed an envelope from the kitchen counter and handed it to him. The simple will inside looked official, but why would it be sent to Shelby all of a sudden like this?

  “This says your father was leaving everything to Katherine, but it’s a draft. It’s not official yet.”

  “Yeah, but I called the lawyer. They wouldn’t tell me anything but I know my father wouldn’t do this. If he was going to change things he’d talk to me first. The will that was in his safe is the real will.”

  “And you think Katherine had this made and sent it to you? Why?”

  “Who knows? To get me all riled up, probably. She probably thinks it will make me do something stupid.”

  “Or that it would be a motive for you to kill your father, to prevent it from being recorded officially.”

  “Which means we better find something that proves she’s the killer fast before she does something else.”

  “Hmm.” Chase crossed his arms. “Blake told me the other night your father had secret security cameras installed in his office. Feeds he didn’t share with anyone. Blake said he’d tried to talk him out of it, in case of a break in, but Warren wouldn’t budge.”

  “I believe it.” Shelby snorted. “My dad’s line of work had him dealing with less than savory characters sometimes. I didn’t approve and was worried about him, but he always told me he had it under control.”

  “Right.” Intrigued, Chase wanted to know more, but her troubled expression told him not to push. Not yet. They’d be spending a lot of time together over the days ahead. There'd be time for asking those questions later. “Well, if we can access those feeds, there’s a good chance the real murderer is on them. Any idea where t
hey might be?”

  “Nope. We should probably check Katherine’s condo too. And the Rockford Security feeds. Maybe we can find something there.”

  “I can handle getting us access to the Rockford feeds, no problem. Katherine’s condo though.” He scrunched his nose. “I’d be thrilled if I never set eyes on that place again.”

  “Too bad.” Shelby grinned and nudged him with her foot. “We’re a team, remember? Fifty-fifty or it’s a no-go.”

  Chase sighed. “Fine. But I won’t like it.”

  “Neither will I, trust me.”

  “I do.” He smiled at her, realizing for the first time in a long time, it was true. He hadn’t trusted very many people since going to jail, but he trusted Shelby. “I’ll ask Blake for access to the footage from the casino floor too. There could be something the cops missed on there. We can probably look at them tomorrow, if he’s okay with it.”

  “Great. What time should I meet you in the morning?” She straightened and set her water on a nearby coffee table. “And where are the offices again?”

  “If you’re busy at the shelter, you don’t have to be there.”

  “Like hell I don’t. You’re not going to do this alone. If we’re in this together, I’m going with you. Besides, two sets of eyes are better than one, right?”

  “Right.” He rattled off the address for Rockford Security. “It’ll need to be early, say around seven, since IT will get swamped later with the regular daily feeds.”

  “No problem. Seven works great for me, actually. I can go there before I hit the shelter for the day.”

  A series of meows issued from beneath the sofa, followed by two cats emerging then jumping up on Chase’s lap. One was smoky gray and his angry face would’ve given Grumpy Cat a run for his money. The other was an orange and white tabby. Both snuggled up to Chase’s sides like he was their favorite cardboard box. Frowning, he held his arms up and stared down at the newly purring creatures. “Uh…”

  Shelby laughed. “You do have a way with animals, don’t you?”