Don't Trust Me (Hamlet Book 1)

by Jessica Lynch

  It was a closet-sized morgue, hardly bigger than a freezer, and just as cold. He could never understand why she always seemed surprised whenever she had to meet him down here. At least she’d remembered and worn her uniform jacket this time.

  He nodded at her. “You look tired, Caity. Third cup of coffee?”

  Caitlin glanced at the thermos in her hand as if unsure how it got there. “I don’t know. It might be my fourth at this point. I lost track.”

  “Be careful. Next thing I know, you’ll be the one on my slab.”

  “Ha ha. Funny.” Now that she noticed her coffee, she unscrewed the top and took a healthy gulp. “Let’s focus on the one stiff we got. I’ve given you a couple of hours down here with him. Did you find anything new?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing that contradicts my initial findings.”

  Quickly, he ran down a list of Jack’s injuries, all of them consistent with homicidal strangulation. The only thing missing was some sign that Sullivan fought back. Though he flirted with the idea that this could possibly be suicidal strangulation, he dismissed the idea immediately. There was no evidence that anything else was used to tighten the rope. Only a pair of hands. If Sullivan did it to himself, the rope would’ve gone slack when he first lost consciousness. He wouldn’t have died. The corpse with the fresh Y-cut proved otherwise. Which meant someone else had to be involved.

  “I’ve already bagged and tagged the rope for you, in case you need it for a match, or maybe you can get some prints off of it. I’m also going to take samples from his body anyway, send them out for testing. As soon as all that’s done, we can release the body. I don’t know about you, but I always feel better when I know the freezer’s empty.”

  She nodded. No surprise. As much as they argued, when it came to their work, she never second-guessed him. If Lucas told her there wasn’t anything else he could do with Sullivan’s body, she would believe him.

  She proved it as when she said, “Let me know when you’re finished. I’ll sit down with the wife again and find out what she wants to do.”

  Lucas yanked off his gloves one by one, balling them up before tossing them in the hazardous waste bucket. As he went over to the sink and started to wash his hands, he turned to look over his shoulder at Caitlin. “How’d that go? How’s the fair missus holding up?”

  “As well as can be expected. I left her at the station with Wil. I finally had to send Sly home to get a couple hours down after he finished up in the inn. I need everyone in tiptop shape if we got some murderer on the loose.” She paused, took another sip. “Mase buzzed me as I was heading over here.”

  “Asking about the widow?”

  “Yup.”

  Lucas turned the sink off, grabbed a towel. “He seems very fond of Mrs. Sullivan. Are you sure this is the first time they’ve ever met?”

  If Caitlin heard the suspicion lacing his tone, she chose to ignore it. “It’s Mason Walsh. How could he? He’s never stepped foot out of Hamlet. Come on, Luc. The kid’s got some white knight in shining armor complex. She’s the damsel in distress that he has to save. It’s nothing.”

  “Is that so?”

  She snorted. “Yeah. Trust me. I’ve known the kid his whole life. It’s not in him to leave Hamlet, but he’s always had stars in his eyes. He’s too used to the girls in town. He figures his only shot at love will come with some outsider.”

  Lucas thought it was interesting how Caitlin kept calling Walsh a kid, like he wasn’t only a couple of years younger than she was. He didn’t think she was even aware she was doing it. But he didn’t buy into the deputy’s act. It wasn’t just about being a hero to the shocked, grieving widow, or even finding true love. Tessa Sullivan was attractive and she was available. Not to mention, she was a slice of life from outside of Hamlet. He was willing to put money down that even with Jack Sullivan still breathing, Walsh would’ve made a play for her eventually.

  “I don’t know. That poor woman is married and he’s sniffing around her like a dog in heat.”

  Caitlin pointed at him. “She was married. I remember you saying vows once upon a time. ‘Til death—or divorce—do you part, right? She’s as single as I am. Kid sees an opportunity and he’s running with it. I don’t blame him.”

  Lucas raised his eyebrow. “Don’t you think that’s a little inappropriate? He’s one of your deputies, Cait.”

  “So? She doesn’t seem to mind.” She paused, then added casually, “He’s asked me if he could offer her one of the spare rooms in his place while she’s staying here.”

  The snort was out before he could stop himself. “I don’t think so.”

  Too late, he realized his mistake. Already under pressure as Hamlet’s sheriff, she would be looking for a reason to turn this on him. She always did. Her shoulders tensed at his snort. The casual way she asked, “Why not?”, did not fool him one bit.

  Still, he couldn’t help himself.

  “Why not?” He goggled at her. “Because I think that’s definitely inappropriate, don’t you?”

  Caitlin didn’t blink as she returned his stare. She did, however, narrow her eyes dangerously at him. He could almost see the gears of her wayward mind spinning. When she suddenly slammed her coffee thermos on the slab, dots of her spilled drink landing on the dead man’s arm, Lucas braced himself for what was coming.

  “I know what this is about. Why you keep bringing up this outsider. Why you’re standing there with that disapproving look on your face at the thought that Mason wants to take her in for the night.”

  He crossed his arms over his lab coat, careful not to touch any of the miscellaneous fluids on it. “Okay. This I got to hear. C’mon, Caity. I’ll bite. Why?”

  “You have a thing for her. The Sullivan woman. That’s why you don’t want Mase chasing after her. Now that her husband’s dead, you want her to throw you a bone.”

  And this, Lucas thought, was precisely why he couldn’t stand being married to such a jealous shrew. Try to remind the sheriff that her deputies should have some boundaries with a civilian and, suddenly, he was panting after Tessa himself. She was being ridiculous and, despite her many insistences to the contrary, she would never change.

  “Caity. Caitlin. Listen to yourself. I don’t know that woman. I haven’t even said one word to her. Did you ever think that I feel sorry for her? She’s been in our village for one day. Her husband was murdered and if you—the sheriff, damn it—aren’t already trying to marry her off to one of your deputies, it’s because you’re accusing your ex-husband of taking advantage of the poor thing.”

  His words were calm, his actions measured. Pointedly breaking eye contact with her, he grabbed the towel from its place by the sink. After wiping the spilled coffee off of the corpse, he picked up Caitlin’s thermos, placed it gently into her empty hand and headed for the closed door.

  She found her voice just as he opened it. “Don’t walk away from me, Lucas. Don’t you dare.”

  “I’m not walking away from you. I just refuse to continue this pointless conversation while standing over a murder victim’s remains.” He held the door open, gesturing for her to join him out in the hall. “If you want, we can finish this in my office.”

  Shoving past him, she spat out, “I know the way.”

  As she stalked ahead, Lucas lingered in the morgue’s doorway and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, prayed for a single ounce of patience, and then followed the sound of her clomping boots.

  She cornered him as he tried to slip by her into his office. Grabbing his sleeve, she tugged until he was looking down at her. “Okay, okay. I don’t know where that came from.” She let go of his sleeve, shrugging helplessly. “We’re not married anymore. I know that. I’m not supposed to get jealous.”

  “That wasn’t jealousy, Caity, it was momentary insanity. Ever since I left the inn, all I’ve worried about is your case. The most important thing right now is finding out who killed Jack Sullivan. Not who’s next in line for his wife.”

  “I
know. I’m sorry. I’ve been running all morning, checking out the crime scene, talking to everyone who worked the night shift in and around Bonnie’s inn. No one saw anything, Luc.” This time, she made sure the lid on her thermos was screwed on tight before she dropped it onto the edge of Lucas’s desk. Frustration made her run her trembling hand through her hair. “I’ve got nothing so far. Tessa Sullivan is my only lead. I’ve gotta keep her here. She won’t stay at Bonnie’s. I know better than to agree with Mason, but what else am I supposed to do?”

  His annoyance at Caitlin faded away as she turned imploringly to him. She always looked at him that way, like he would have the answer to any question she had. First, when they were married, then later, when they had to work side-by-side as Hamlet’s sheriff and its makeshift ME.

  At least, this time, her faith in him was founded. He actually had an answer for her. Taking a seat at his desk, he said one word: “Ophelia.”

  It was obvious from the way she seemed to deflate that she had no clue what he meant. “What?”

  “Ophelia,” he repeated. “She can stay there.”

  It clicked a moment later. “Your sister’s place?”

  Lucas set his jaw. The more he thought about, the better it seemed. “Why not? Maria has been trying to re-open her cozy little bed and breakfast for ages now. I know she’s hesitant—”

  “Of course she is! Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

  His stomach roiled. Underneath his desk, his hands clenched into fists. “That was different. I made sure that nothing like that would happen to my sister again.”

  Anger made him reckless. Lucas was usually so much better at concealing his emotions when he had to. From the way her thin eyebrows rose, he knew that Caitlin could see right through them. When she nodded, he accepted that there was no doubt in her mind that he was fully capable of doing just that.

  And he was.

  “Anyway, I’ve got to question her again. She’s no use to me right now, and I can’t justify keeping her overnight.” Rubbing her tired eyes with the back of her hand, Caitlin finally admitted the truth to Lucas. “I don't know what I'm doing. I'm just making it up as I go along, This is the first murder we’ve ever had here. If we don’t count Turner, that is.”

  Lucas’s lips thinned. “Why bring up Turner? Everyone in Hamlet knows that was an accident.”

  “I know. And I figured that out when we found his wreck.”

  What else could it be called when an outsider took the wrong turn back out of town and ran his truck off the road and into the gulley that surrounded most of Hamlet? As much as she wanted to call it his comeuppance, as the head of the HSD, she settled on accident in all of the paperwork.

  With a huff, she added, “I don’t think this one’s going to be that easy.”

  He had a feeling she was right. He was also not quite sure that it was strictly coincidence that had Caitlin jumping from the topic of Maria to Mack Turner like that. She’d always been intelligent, but she was also shrewder than he ever really gave her credit for. If anyone could figure out what happened, she would.

  Lucas had to change the subject back. As far as he was concerned, Turner’s case was closed. There was no reason to dredge all that ancient history up again. It would only make his sister suffer if she had to relive it. He wouldn’t allow that.

  Picking up his radio, he asked Caitlin, “Should I call Maria?”

  “Yeah, sure. Might as well.” She huffed, unscrewed her thermos and guzzled down the last of her coffee. “Right now, I don’t care where that woman goes so long as she’s not at my station when I’m done tonight.”

  “I’ll take care of it personally,” Lucas promised.

  And that, Caitlin admitted to herself, was exactly what she was afraid of.

  9

  Mason was watching her so closely, Tess felt like an insect underneath a magnifying glass. She wished he would stop. It unnerved her, her skin breaking out in tiny goosebumps as if she actually felt the touch of his continued stare.

  Why wasn't he blinking? It was really beginning to creep her out.

  What made it worse was that, as they sat cross-legged and facing each other on the bench stretched across the jail cell, she had no idea why he kept studying her.

  Tess was pretty sure she was only one wrong word away from snapping under the day’s stress. It bothered her that she couldn’t understand what he was looking for. Did he think she managed to sneak out and choke her husband to death? Or was he watching, waiting to see if spontaneous strangulation was suddenly catching?

  She’d already shed enough tears while clinging to him that morning, so if he was expecting another breakdown, he’d be waiting a while for that.

  There was a hollow feeling in her chest. Her head kept spinning. The more she tried to concentrate and accept the reality of what happened, the harder it was. The words simply didn’t make sense in her head. No matter how many times she made the sheriff repeat them during her questioning earlier.

  Jack is dead. Dead. Jack is dead. Jack. Dead. He’s—

  “Tess?”

  Her whole body shook at the sound of her name. In that fleeting instant, the certainty that Jack was gone slipped through her hands like grains of sand. It would be back. It was just the shock talking.

  “I’m sorry.” She blinked. “Did you say something?”

  Concern flooded his deep brown eyes. And, she thought, it would be so, so easy to drown in them.

  Mason nodded at the pile of cards set between them. “It’s your turn.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She drew her card. Ace of spades. Her hand shook. She quickly tucked that card behind the three of clubs. “Nothing.”

  The plodding of sensible shoes caught her attention, followed by a soft cough. A hefty shadow fell across the bench.

  “How are you kids doing in there? You need me to get you anything before I start getting ready to go off shift for the evening?”

  Tess shook her head.

  Mason waved over at Wilhelmina. “We’re doing just fine. And don’t worry. If Tess needs something, I can handle it.”

  The other deputy pursed her lips. “Sounds fair, Mase. Let me know if you change your mind, sug, yeah? You too, Mrs. Sullivan. Take it easy. Sheriff’s gotta be coming back soon.”

  “Thanks, Wil.”

  “Thank you,” Tess echoed.

  She liked the older woman. Wilhelmina probably had a good twenty years on the other two deputies she met. There was a matronly air about her, with her platinum-dyed hair permed into fluffy curls and a swath of blue eyeshadow that peeked over the edge of her thick eyeglasses with the cat’s eye frames. She carried some fluff around the middle, though Tess would call her husky before anything else, and moved around the station like a clucking mother hen.

  She was the fourth member of their four-man law enforcement team, though Wilhelmina confided that she was more of an overpaid, underworked secretary. Despite Hamlet’s small population, there was always the inevitable paperwork. That was her responsibility. Mason, Deputy Collins, and Caitlin traded off on the majority of patrols.

  Collins was already gone when Mason brought her back to the station. Mason went off duty right after, though she seemed to think that wasn’t his idea. He returned shortly after the sheriff finally concluded her interview session, but both Wilhelmina and Mason assured her that Sheriff De Angelis left clear instructions that she had to remain in the station house for the time being.

  She wasn’t under arrest, so she didn’t have to stay in the cell. That was one thing Tess insisted on herself.

  Even she knew it was pathetic that the hard bench beneath her was the only tangible thing in her life at the moment. She couldn’t help it. Part of her realized that while she’d been struggling to get comfortable on that bench last night, her husband died in a hotel bed. Alone. The discomfort in her back and legs were the only thing that reminded her that she was still alive when he wasn’t.

  Who knows what would have happened if she hadn'
t gone to the bar? That thought made her stomach retch. If she hadn’t already thrown up the water Sly offered, plus the bile that burned her throat as it came up, Tess would’ve heaved again.

  Mason tried to get her to take a seat in one of the comfortable visitor’s chairs. She stubbornly refused. Rather than leave her alone, he grabbed a deck of cards from one of the desk’s drawers and joined her in the cell.

  Which was how she ended up playing a half-assed game of gin rummy while everyone around her pointedly ignored the blinking neon elephant in the room. Except for her interrogation, none of the others so much as mentioned Jack. She sure as hell didn’t. If she didn’t acknowledge it, it didn’t happen.

  Or something like that.

  Mason took his next card, the tip of his tongue sticking out as he concentrated. He’d already won the first two games, even though she suspected he was trying to lose to her on purpose. Feeling guilty, she tried to focus all of her attention on her cards.

  In between laying down another set, he twitched as if he’d been electrocuted. She gasped and he chuckled. Unclipping his radio, he immediately showed it to Tess.

  “Boss just buzzed me,” he told her. He threw his cards face down on the bench before standing. “I’ll go see what she wants. Wilhelmina will keep you company. Keep you honest.” He winked, his attempt at humor just another subtle way to put her at ease. “No peeking at my cards.”

  She probably should have laughed. He was trying so hard. The silence echoed around them as Mason loomed over her. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, glanced at his radio, changed his mind. Almost apologetically, he backed out of the open cell.

  “I’ll be right back, Willie.”

  “Sure thing, Mase, sugar. I’ll hold the fort for you. The little sug will be just fine.”

  Wilhelmina liked to call people sugar, and Tess thought the older deputy was just as sweet. When the sheriff wasn’t drilling her earlier, Wilhelmina let Tess sit with her at her desk. She had one of those portable DVD players and an entire storage case full of movies. During lunch, she let Tess pick. It was a relief to watch something as familiar as The Wizard of Oz and pretend that Jack wasn’t lying in a morgue somewhere, being worked on by that handsome doctor.