by Wendy Byrne
Gabe shook his head. "It's not like you and Jen were BFFs, so I don't understand the sudden outpouring of love. Oh yeah, I forgot you're still mad that Nate investigated one of your clients and brought you in for questioning when he worked for the FBI."
"Don't be ridiculous, although it was a serious overreach on his part. I understood he was trying to make a name for himself on my back, but I forgave him for that."
"Bull. You never forgave anybody for anything."
She gave an exasperated sigh that went on about thirty seconds too long. "I forgave you, didn't I?"
Gabe glanced in my direction. "That seems to be a little of the pot calling the kettle black. Don't you think?"
"Whatever." She finally looked at me and pointed her index finger at me. "Who are you?" She glanced at Gabe. "It's awfully late to have a cleaning lady."
Not that I needed him to, but Gabe slid an arm over my shoulders. "Didn't want to introduce you because I didn't figure you'd invite yourself in. Izzy, this is Mel."
I gave her a tight smile that was more grimace. "Your reputation precedes you. Believe me."
"You're that artist-wannabe-detective, aren't you?" She let out a haughty laugh that made me want to strangle her on the spot. Good thing I had self-control—at least for now. If she kept throwing shade my way, I wasn't sure how long I'd last. How had Gabe ever been married to this woman? She was like Cruella Deville but blonde. Really, I was surprised she didn't have a little string of Dalmatians in tow, ready to make them into a fur coat.
Gabe started to defend me, but I placed my palm on his chest in both an I got this motion combined with a staking my territory chaser. What I wanted to say I held back for the time being, but all I needed was the slightest of provocations to let it spew. I'd been around her type all my life and knew how to cut her to the quick without a moment of hesitation. For now, I'd give her some slack.
"I'm primarily an artist but have a knack for sniffing out BS." I paused as I stared at her with a fake smile curling my lips. "That part comes easily after being born and raised in Manhattan. As my grandmother used to say, 'There are some good people. But a good chunk of them will lie for no reason at all. They just lie because that's what they do.' So, I do my best to ferret out the truth." I hardly knew my grandmother. We never had heartfelt conversations about life. The quote was something John Cusack said in an interview about people in Hollywood, I think. And yeah, I wanted to get under her skin. Gabe squeezed my shoulder as if he was in on my ruse.
"Aren't you cute?" She drew the last word out to show how un-cute she thought I was.
The idea of hitting her was a nice fantasy. Maybe I could make it look like an accident. Yeah, probably not. But I was pretty sure if I did, Gabe would lie for me. As I choreographed my not-so-stellar right-upper-cut move in my head, I recognized the idea would have to stay as a fantasy.
She turned her attention back to Gabe. "I'm serious. I need to know what's going on and be notified immediately when Nate is arrested."
"And I'm telling you, Nate didn't do anything." He gave her his crabby-Gabe face. "I'm not sure why you thought coming here would help your cause, but it's done the opposite. We're not on the same page. We've never been on the same page. Get over yourself for once." He opened the door as if his words and scowl weren't enough to get her to take the hint.
"Just to be clear, I'm not giving up on this. And I know people who don't have their own agenda. I guess you won't invite me to spend the night, then." She laughed as she walked through the door.
For someone who was grieving the loss of her friend, she wasn't acting like it. I raised my eyebrows and gave Gabe a quizzical look. He replied with a shrug.
"Well, that was informative." My cynical tone couldn't be stopped.
He rolled his eyes. "I'd say she was an acquired taste, but I'd be lying. She was always high maintenance, but it's gotten worse over the years."
"How did we both pick such losers for partners the first time around?" I gave him a peck on the lips.
"I don't have a clue. I still can't figure out what I ever saw in her."
I smirked. "My guess is you were blinded by her chest, and we'll leave it at that."
CHAPTER FOUR
I heard the roar and glanced out the window, opening it for a better view and blinking in disbelief. The Qs had found new toys. Loud. Crazy. Not-to-be-believed vehicles that took the idea of never growing old to a whole new level.
Alice was driving one, with copilot Viola hanging on for dear life behind her, while Ramona and Dolly were on the other. Two three-wheeled motorcycles maneuvered clumsily in front of my apartment, ending up a couple of feet from the curb. I wasn't sure if I should laugh or cry.
Give me strength.
"I see you ladies have new rides," I called down from the second floor.
Alice took off her helmet and shielded her eyes. "Aren't they sweet?" The others followed suit and waved before I buzzed them through the door downstairs.
The Qs tromped inside my place like a stampede of wild horses. I'd seen a lot of excitement from them, but this level met heights I hadn't anticipated. I wasn't sure if it was the new tri-motorcycles or some news that had them aflutter.
"Yep, good old Hank hooked us up when Viola's van quit on us and Henry was unavailable. They're on loan for a couple of days," Ramona said.
Under normal circumstances I would have questioned the practicality of renting motorcycles, but I'd learned since my first days here. In terms of the Qs, up was down and down was up, so I'd grown accustomed to them pushing the envelope.
"Have you heard any more about Nate?" Part of me didn't want to know the answer, as a very bad feeling had set up inside my gut since Mel's impromptu visit last night at Gabe's.
The one thing I both loved and hated about the Qs was they tended to wear their emotions in their expressions. Based on their sudden quiet, combined with the downturn of their mouths, I assumed the worst because that's how life had been going lately.
"Did he get arrested?" That's the only thing that fit with the worry I saw creasing their collective brows.
"No, but it probably won't be long. Her brother showed up in town and is demanding Nate's arrest," Viola finally said.
"Wait." I chewed my lower lip. "I'm pretty sure Nate mentioned that both he and Jen were only children. This guy can't be her brother." Remembering that gave me a sliver of hope to hang on to. "Whoever this guy is, he has to be lying."
"He's really a stepbrother, which is why nobody knew about him. His father was married to her mother for a short period of time. Rumor is he's some kind of big shot with lots of connections, or so he says."
None of this made sense in terms of what Gabe had told me yesterday, especially the growing up on a farm part and the death of her parents. "What is he implying?" Before I finished my thought, someone pounded on my door. "Who is it?" I called.
"Drew Lannon. I need talk to you about my sister Jen and the sheriff."
The ladies rubbed their hands together as Ramona whispered, "That's him. That's her stepbrother."
I tamped down the paranoia about how he'd found me so easily. In a small town like Inez, the people in it tended to be trusting and helpful. They'd probably drawn him a map to where I lived.
I shuffled to the door, held my hand on the knob, and tried to think through my options. Was I under any obligation to let him in? If—and I still didn't buy the story—he really was Jen's brother, he sounded angry, like he blamed me somehow. For all I knew he could be dangerous. I glanced over at the Qs to get a read on what they were thinking. They didn't look scared or nervous. Then again, they never did.
While part of me hated to do it, I peeked open the door. An angry flush tinted the man's skin tone as he scowled at me. My first instinct prodded me to shut the door in his face. More rational thought prevailed as I considered that his sister was missing and presumed dead.
"I can't help you. I don't really know what's going on." Sure, I'd take the chicken way out whenever I
could.
"Is this because you're friendly with the sheriff?" Drew asked with a snarl in his tone.
"We're all friendly with Nate. What does that have to do with Jen?" Alice asked with her hands planted on her hips. I've seen that pose before. This Drew guy better back off, or he'd get an earful.
He blew out a breath and shook his head. "I just want to know what happened to my sister. She's a great person. A wonderful mother. Yes, she had her struggles with addiction, but that didn't mean she deserved to die at the hands of her vile ex-husband." His voice had come down several octaves.
"Who said anything about dead? Last I heard she was missing," Ramona added.
"Nate's my friend, and he's a kind man and wouldn't hurt anyone, let alone somebody he once loved." I couldn't stop the words from exploding from my mouth. Maybe I shouldn't have been so forthcoming, but tempering my words seemed impossible.
"He's fooled everyone in this town just like he fooled my sister. Stole her own daughter away from her—a niece I've yet to see other than in pictures."
"I think you have an alternate version of the story. The real version is that your sister left her daughter and said she didn't want to be a mom anymore." It felt good to right his misperceptions. Whether or not he'd believe me had yet to be seen.
"You don't know the real Nate. He puts on a good front, but he's not as Goody-Two-Shoes as he presents."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, but I know Nate to be a fair man."
The Qs murmured their agreement behind me.
He shoved a photograph in my hand. "If you don't believe me, look at this. He beat this man senseless when he was supposed to be arresting him and bringing him in for questioning. He took things way too far and didn't even get reprimanded."
I glanced at the picture he'd handed me and felt my stomach churn. The man's swollen face was a jumble of both bruises and open cuts. His eyes were swollen shut, and nothing could explain the absolute hideousness of the photo and the beating this man endured.
"Nate did not do this. He wouldn't do this. Ever." I couldn't envision him doing this to somebody—anybody—with or without provocation. Nothing could change my mind about that. Pictures can be doctored and changed through the magic of editing.
"The evidence is here before you." Agitated, he pointed at the picture, as if by doing that he'd somehow convince me Nate had done this.
"He would have been investigated, but that clearly didn't happen or wasn't proven, or he would have been fired. They don't take that kind of misbehavior from FBI agents."
"Why do you think he's here in Inez? They let him resign, but his days in the FBI were numbered. Had he stayed, he would have been blackballed and drummed out eventually." The man's eyebrow quirked, adding a little bit of snark to his words.
"He wouldn't have been appointed sheriff if he'd done something like this."
"There wasn't enough evidence to convict him of anything, but he's responsible just the same. Do you know the police were called to his place in Virginia on more than one occasion for domestic violence? He's not a good dude. He's very different than how he's presented himself in Iowa. You've all bought his BS hook, line, and sinker. He's good. I'll give you that. I don't blame you. You're not the first people he's fooled."
His use of the word dude caused my brain to hiccup for a second, while my hands shook. My world had turned upside down as I searched for an understanding of what could have happened. The obvious thing to do would be to ask Nate directly, but the guy was in the middle of a tornado of trouble. Should I try to broach the subject when he was already down and out?
"I'm not sure why you felt a need to come here and spill insinuations." The behavior Drew described didn't match what I knew to be true about Nate. He wouldn't have done that to another human being. There had to be an explanation.
"I heard you've been looking into the matter, and I wanted to set the record straight. Besides, I have friends in high places and intend to see justice done one way or another." With those ominous words, he walked back out the door.
I processed his not-so-veiled-threat and tried to think, while my mind remained a mess of jumbled emotions. Despite all that, I managed to run to the front window and snap off a picture of him on my phone before he slipped into his car.
"I'll show this to Nate," I said to the Qs.
"That man sure does hate Nate. I suspect there's a whole lot of information we're missing. What do you think that all means?" Viola asked.
"Besides Nate being in deep doo-doo? I don't know." I chewed my lip and contemplated telling Nate of Drew's appearance—if he didn't know already. Somehow, I had to work into the conversation the picture of the beat-up guy. Now I just had to figure out a way to pull it off.
* * *
The best way to handle this would be alone without a full-on Qs rush. Way too much chatter to get through if they were around. While they sat around watching a Monk marathon at Viola's, I pretended to have an appointment and left early. I'd tell them about what I found out later. For right now, I had to do what I needed to do.
I walked into the sheriff's office and eyed Nate's open door. I'd picked when the Qs' friend and local gossip was at lunch so she wouldn't alert them to my presence and risk them derailing the conversation. If they caught wind of what I was up to, they'd join me so fast my head would be spinning.
Nate's door was open and he was alone, so I knocked on the frame. "How you holding up?"
He looked up from the papers strewn across his desk and sighed. "Ok, I guess. Have a seat. I could use some company."
I sat across from him and smiled. The guy looked like he'd aged ten years in the last couple of days. "Any word at all?"
"They haven't found her yet. That's all they'll give me for now. Chaz is towing the line between being my friend and doing his job, so I can't be angry at him."
"Understandable." I gulped. "Do you know anything about Jen's stepbrother?"
His brow furrowed. "She was an only child, as far as she told me."
"This guy by the name of Drew Lannon showed up at my door." As I talked, Nate began to write it down. I guessed taking notes was an ingrained habit and part of the job. "Anyway, he was talking big and pushing his agenda about making sure you were held responsible for whatever happened to Jen."
"What did the guy look like?"
"Dark hair. Thirtysomething. I did manage to snap off a pic on my phone, but it's not very good. He alluded to having friends in high places."
"Jen never mentioned family, let alone a brother. It was what bonded us from the beginning. We were lost souls. All alone. Viola and her ex-husband Doc Carnes were the family I never had, and I spent more time there than I did at home. I stayed with my dad after my mom died, but he was only too happy to see me gone. Long story." Nate rubbed his hands along his jawline and sighed. "Was this guy trying to intimidate you?"
"I think he was snooping around trying to see if I'd tell him anything."
I gulped and forged on. I might as well come clean with the whole story of the visit rather than spin this until we both got dizzy. Another rip off the Band-Aid moment. I winced. "He showed me pictures of a guy you supposedly beat up while you were working for the FBI. He said you weren't fired but more like encouraged to find a new line of work." I held up my hands so I could finish. "Not that I believed him, but I wanted you to know the BS he's spewing, so you can be prepared."
Nate rubbed his temples like I'd just compounded his troubles, which I kind of had. "What is this guy's agenda? If he's related to Jen, I could see why he'd want me to go down. But why did I never hear her talk about him if that's true?"
"Exactly what I was thinking. Here's the picture I took." I showed him my phone. "Does he look familiar?"
He examined it closely before making it larger. "Not really." He drew his hands through his short hair.
"They can't charge you unless…you know…they…find the…" I couldn't bring myself to say the word body, but based on his expression, he knew what I was
trying to say.
"Unless they get enough evidence to prove their theory." His nod reflected the grimness of his potential reality. "I have a couple of things going against me. First off, several people saw Jen and me arguing at Otis's. There's also a DA for the county who hates me because he wanted his nephew to get appointed sheriff in Inez when the former sheriff had a heart attack. But I got it instead. If he gets involved in this, it could go bad for me. He's definitely the type to hold a grudge."
"What's his name?" Not that I could do anything about it, but it seemed like a good thing to know.
"Charlie Evans. They call him the Madman."
Any DA with a nickname like that sounded like trouble for sure. While I didn't want to voice my nonlegal opinion, I figured they could go ahead with charging Nate if there was enough pressure from higher-ups. "He sounds like a jerk."
"You have no idea. I suppose they'll put me on leave shortly until this gets figured out."
I hated to beat a dead horse, but I needed to know more about the picture Drew showed me. "If you don't mind my asking, what happened to the guy in the picture?"
Nate shook his head. "Have you ever seen the Clint Eastwood movie where this psycho guy hires some thugs to beat him up and then blames it on Clint Eastwood, the cop?"
I nodded. "Dirty Harry, right?"
"That's what that guy tried to pull, except he was so stupid he left a trail a mile long. They did an investigation into his claims, but nothing came of it as it turned out one of his buddies did that to him for a thousand bucks. The guy squealed in return for a plea deal on some charges he'd been brought up on, and the investigation was dismissed. Between that, Jen, and Emily, I lost interest in having a high-powered job and decided to come back to my roots. There was no pressure at all from the FBI."
"Why is this Drew guy trying to ruin you? What's his agenda?"
"If he's really related to Jen, maybe he thinks I am the bad guy in this and he's trying to make me pay. It sounds like he might know his way around the legal system."
