by A M Ialacci
“It was my way of getting information, I suppose.” She stopped pacing and looked at Imani. “Whenever I’ve been scared in my life, it has always helped me to get more information. Sometimes what I learn helps me to see there isn’t anything to be afraid of. Sometimes just the act of being busy helps still my fears. This place terrifies me, and if I’m going to stay, I need to know that I’m safe and those I care about are safe too. This is how I do it.”
“Will Truman is letting you help investigate, then?”
“No, not exactly. My place was broken into. They took my laptop, camera, and my external drive. And Will’s doctor told him not to drive or write for a week because his hand is infected where Oliver bit him.”
Imani’s brow wrinkled. “Oliver bit him?”
“Oh my. I didn’t tell you about that part?”
“Apparently, you haven’t told me much, girl. I’m so confused.” Imani shook her head. “Why don’t you come over for an early lunch and fill me in?”
Cleo nodded, feeling guilty.
After they had eaten, Imani cleared their plates and asked, “There’s DNA evidence?”
“Well, there’s Nicholas’s blood. I’m sure they’ll test that just to make sure it’s all his. And there’s another sample we’re not sure is related.” Cleo bowed her head, elbows leaning on the kitchen island in front of her. “He had to have been in so much pain, Imani. He didn’t deserve that.”
“No one does, honey,” Imani agreed.
“Oh, and a long-lost brother has turned up, or so he says he is. He submitted a DNA sample voluntarily, and they’ll be sending that to test against Nicholas’s, too, I guess.”
Imani came back to sit on the stool next to Cleo. “The reason I ask is because my brother works in that part of the forensic lab in Riverside. I could ask him to do his magic and process the results a bit faster for Will if you think it would help.”
“You’d do that?”
“Of course,” Imani said. “I can’t make any promises, but he has the prerogative to prioritize his caseload. And if it will help you, then I’ll ask him.”
“Imani, I’m so glad you’re my neighbor,” Cleo said, putting an arm around Imani’s shoulders. “You and Kiara are pretty much all I’ve got. Please promise me you two will be extra careful around here.”
“We always are, Cleo. And you need to make sure you listen to Will. We don’t need you getting hurt or worse chasing this killer.” Imani patted Cleo’s hand.
“I’ll watch my back,” Cleo promised. “And I wasn’t supposed to share any of that with you, so please don’t say anything to anyone.”
“I would never. The only reason I care is because I want to make sure you aren’t in danger.”
“We’re all in danger, aren’t we?” Cleo asked.
“Even if we didn’t live here, we would be, Cleo. It’s all relative.” Imani shrugged.
“Spoken like a true emergency room nurse.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Cleo pulled the glass sliding door into Imani’s backyard closed and took several steps before hearing the door slide open again. She turned, expecting to see Imani reminding her of something she had forgotten or left behind, but instead, she saw Kiara looking unsure of herself.
“What’s up, Kiara?”
“I overheard you talking.”
“You did?” Cleo asked. “Did we scare you?”
Kiara shook her head but bit her lip. “No, I know what goes on in this town. Mommy warned me to be real careful, especially in the week before Founders Day.”
Cleo crouched in front of Kiara. “What is it, honey?”
Kiara glanced around as though to make sure Imani wasn’t anywhere nearby. “I may know something that can help you.”
“Really? What’s that?”
“That Maeve lady you were talking about? The one who got into a fight with Nicholas?”
“Yes,” Cleo prompted.
“She and her roommate are more than friends,” Kiara said, biting her lip again.
“How do you know that?”
“My friend Bella lives next door to them and we were climbing trees in her backyard one day. We saw them kissing in their backyard. We climbed right down. We didn’t mean to look.”
“Of course not,” Cleo said.
“We didn’t tell anybody either.” Kiara was wide-eyed.
“Well, you know there’s nothing wrong with two ladies kissing, right?”
“I know.”
“But it was good not to say anything because that’s private business.”
Kiara nodded. “There’s something else.”
“What’s that?” Cleo’s knees were screaming from being crouched so long, but she wanted Kiara to feel comfortable talking to her.
“I know Mommy didn’t like him, but Nicholas was nice.”
“How do you know that?”
“He is…was an artist. He showed me his sketches. He was very good!”
Cleo felt a pit form in her stomach. “Where was this?”
“At the library. He was in one of the comfy chairs waiting for Miss Shelley to be done with someone else. I saw him drawing in a sketchbook and they were so good. They looked like photographs! So, I showed him some of my artwork. He said it was really good too.” She flashed a toothy smile.
“Nicholas was an artist.”
“He said he had a hard time reading words, but he was able to express himself with his drawings.”
Cleo nodded.
“Every time we bumped into each other, we would share our current works in progress. And I was thinking that if you could find his sketchbook, it might help you.”
“Thank you for sharing all this with me, Kiara. You are a big help.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened.
Cleo stood, shaking out her legs. “Really.”
“Just don’t tell Mommy, okay?”
“I swear I won’t.” Cleo winked at her. “Now you had better get back inside before Mom figures out you’re not there.”
“Okay,” Kiara said, smiling. She bounced back to the sliding glass door and waved before opening it very carefully.
“Be careful, little one,” Cleo whispered after she had gone.
Oliver tugged on the leash, and Cleo quickened her pace.
I hate that I have to second-guess my safety here, but I’m not taking any chances, Cleo thought. Other people might trust in the law of averages, but a woman who has been divorced twice doesn’t.
She didn’t really know where she and Ollie were headed until she got there. Maeve was on her knees near the edge of the curb, planting mums. She glanced at Cleo and Oliver, smiling, then went back to work.
That’s right, she wouldn’t recognize me, Cleo thought. She doesn’t know me from Adam. Not for long.
“Maeve, is it?”
Maeve raised her eyes to Cleo’s and squinted. “Yes?” she asked, putting one foot on the ground in front of her for stability. She spun the spade in her hand to grip it like a dagger.
“My name is Cleo Kemp. I see you like to grow things,” she said.
“I do.” Maeve tucked a piece of silver hair behind her ear. “How do you know my name?”
“Well, it’s a small town, isn’t it? In fact, I saw you just the other day having an argument with a friend of mine. Nicholas Stubbs?”
Maeve said nothing for a moment. “I’m afraid you didn’t hear what you thought you heard. Didn’t your mother ever teach you it isn’t polite to eavesdrop, anyway?”
“She taught me not to kill people, that’s for sure.”
“Sounds like a great mother. I would think that would go without saying, but maybe you were a handful?”
Cleo smiled. “I was,” she admitted, looking down. Then she raised her eyes to meet Maeve’s. “I still am.”
“Do you have something of substance to say to me, or do you think you could let me get back to what I was doing?”
“How about this? I know about your little project in the woods.” C
leo waited to see Maeve’s reaction. Besides a slight rapid eye movement, she was disappointed.
“My what?”
“A gardening project of another sort,” Cleo explained. “See, I know your partner, Harriet—”
“My roommate,” Maeve interjected.
“Potato, Potahto. I know Harriet suffers from some painful condition, maybe fibromyalgia? I know you would probably do anything to ease her pain. I know your house smells of incense, and even though you garden, you don’t really know what you’re doing because the deer have been eating your crop, and it’ll die at the first frost. I think Nicholas knew about it, too. Now he’s dead.”
“You think I killed Nicholas?” Maeve started laughing.
Cleo stood, nonplussed. This was not the reaction she had expected.
“Just exactly who the hell do you think you are?” Maeve said, wiping away the tears that had formed in the corners of her eyes as she stood, almost six inches taller than Cleo. “You come here to my home and make wild and unfounded accusations against me. Why?”
Cleo didn’t want to divulge that she was helping Will, because she wasn’t, really. Not with the investigation. At a loss for words, she jutted out her chin, and said, “Well, I guess you’ll figure that out.”
“Why don’t you figure this out: there are plenty of others who wanted that man dead. Someone driving a black car was at the garage the evening he was killed, did you know that? And that jerk who hits his librarian girlfriend has gotten into it with Nicholas, too. I’ve even seen that woman who thinks she’s a big-shot hunter get spitting mad at him when she’s caught him in her blind. But you overhear a part of one argument and think you’ve got it solved, huh? You’ve got to be joking.”
Cleo bit her lip, unsure of how to get out of this. Finally, she said, “I’m sure I’ll see you later.” She urged Oliver on and walked quickly down the block and out of Maeve’s line of sight, although the laughter followed her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Cleo, can you come pick me up and run me to the station?” Will was speaking quickly, and his voice seemed higher, urgent.
“Uh, sure. What’s going on?” she asked, already grabbing her coat off the peg by the door.
“Remember our friend Jimmy?”
“Yeah,” she said, closing the door behind her.
“He was caught breaking into the garage,” Will explained.
“The garage where Nicholas stayed?”
“Yep. See you in a few.”
Cleo pulled into Will’s driveway a few minutes later. He had already opened the passenger door by the time she had put it in park.
“You missed a button there, Sparky.” She pointed to his shirt. “And now it’s all wonky.”
“Shit,” Will said, depositing two travel mugs of coffee into the cup holders. When Cleo looked at them, he said, “What? I’m a nice person, too.”
Cleo smiled and said nothing as Will began to unbutton and re-button his shirt clumsily with his bandaged hand.
“You know, I really wish your dog had been a nicer person that night.”
“He’s very protective,” she said.
“But I was helping you. I was literally carrying your incapacitated self into the house.”
“Dogs are not logical, Will. He didn’t know that you were helping. Besides, how did he know what you were going to do after you had brought in my incapacitated body?”
“I told him I was a friend.”
“You did?” She looked at Will with a half-smile.
“Apparently, he didn’t believe me.”
“Poor Oliver.”
“Poor Oliver?” Will raised his voice. “I think Oliver can handle himself,” he said and raised his bandaged hand as evidence. He winced.
“Still hurt?”
“Yeah, but it’ll be fine. It has to be. I can’t have you Driving Miss Daisy for the rest of your life.”
“I don’t mind,” Cleo said as she pulled into a parking spot behind the police station.
“That’s what worries me,” Will said, closing the car door behind him.
As they went into the station, Cleo asked, “Can I watch you interrogate Jimmy?”
Will looked around, seeming to debate with himself. “Okay, listen, I can set you up at a computer to watch, but you can’t let anyone know that’s what you’re doing there. Make it look like you’re working on crime-scene photos or something if someone questions what you’re doing.”
“Okay.” She smiled.
She sat at the same desk as before and Will reached over her to set up the monitoring software. He gave her a wary look and left for the holding cells. The screen revealed the interrogation room, and Jimmy Stubbs was led in and seated.
“You’ve been read your rights, correct?” Will asked, entering the room and taking a seat.
“I have.” Jimmy smiled.
“Can you state your name for the record?”
“James Jeremiah Stubbs. But everybody calls me Jimmy.”
“Where do you live?”
“Mesa, Arizona, but I’ve been in Crimson Falls for a few days visiting.”
“Visiting who?”
The smile fell from his face. “I was here to see my brother, but then he was killed before I had the chance.”
“What day did you arrive, exactly?”
“Well, let’s see. I think I got here the day Nicholas was murdered, so that would have been Friday.”
“And you’re sure you didn’t arrive any earlier than that?” Will leaned forward on his elbows.
“I’m positive.” The smile returned.
“And where are you staying?”
“With a friend at the trailer park at the north end of town.”
“Does that friend have a name?”
“Stumpy Gillis.”
Will’s eyebrows shot up. “One of Perry Chambers’s crew. How do you know Stumpy?”
“He was an old family friend. My parents came through here with their motorcycle club in the sixties. My mom got tired of the life for a little while and decided to stay, got a job waitressing at the diner. My dad rode on. After a couple of years, she came back to my dad and the club. But I just found out Mom had a little secret she left behind in Crimson Falls. My brother.”
“Stumpy knew your parents then and put you up for a few days now?”
“He did.”
“Why did you wait to contact Nicholas? Why didn’t you do it right away?” Will cocked his head.
“I was nervous, ya know? Meeting your older brother for the first time is a little nerve-wracking. I wanted to make a good impression,” Jimmy said with a practiced smile.
“You weren’t following him?”
“No. Who said I was?” The first flicker of anger as his hands turned into fists on the table.
“I get to ask the questions, and you get to answer,” Will reminded him.
Jimmy unclenched his hands and laid them flat on the table, remembering to add that charming smile to his face.
“No, I had his information, I knew where he lived. I didn’t need to follow him.”
“That brings us to the garage.”
“Listen, he’s my brother. Whatever belonged to him belongs to me, now, right? I mean, he didn’t have much, did he?”
“Not your call. We needed to verify your identity, first of all. Second, he may have had a will—you have no idea who his belongings go to. Third, his death is under investigation, so you being there at all was…not good.”
“What does ‘under investigation’ even mean? He was shot in a hunting accident, wasn’t he?”
“I can’t reveal any part of our investigation to you.” Will leaned back in his chair. “Seems like you weren’t too interested in all of Nicholas’s belongings. Just this safe-deposit box key found in your pocket when you were arrested.” Will flipped a plastic evidence bag onto the table with a single small key in it.
Jimmy scowled at the bag and didn’t respond.
“Do you know where the
safe-deposit box is?”
No response again, but Jimmy raised his eyes to meet Will’s.
“Doesn’t matter. We’ll find out. And then we’ll find out what’s inside, and then we may have more to talk about, huh?”
Jimmy folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.
“Suit yourself,” Will said, standing. He took the evidence bag and motioned to the officer waiting to take Jimmy back to his cell that he was free to do so.
Will came over to the desk where he had set Cleo up to watch.
“Were you able to see and hear?”
“Yes, thank you,” she said.
“What did you think?”
“One question: do you still think this was an accident?”
Will shook his head. “I can’t say it wasn’t, but, man, they are coming out of the woodwork, aren’t they?”
“Who knew so many people had it in for Nicholas Stubbs, right?”
“Odd,” Will agreed.
“And I feel like we’ve only hit the tip of the iceberg.”
“Want to go see the garage?”
“I do. A little birdie told me about something that might help us find some answers, and I’m guessing we’ll find it there.”
“Your animals have a habit of being mean to me. Excuse me if I reserve judgment on your little birdie.”
Cleo laughed and Will held out his arm for her to lead the way to the car.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The garage was attached to the only gas station in Crimson Falls, across from the cemetery on the way out of town. Cleo pulled the Mini into the parking lot of the painted white cinder-block building and parked under the red block letters. While Will unlocked the door, she cupped her hands around her eyes and pressed them up to the plate-glass window, peering into the waiting and payment area. Windshield wipers and air fresheners hung on the walls, and hard plastic chairs ringed the room. To the left through an open door was the garage itself. Two bays and racks along the walls lined with tires and other car parts organized in boxes, tools and toolboxes laying right where the mechanics had left them at closing.
Cleo followed Will inside and behind the blue counter in the waiting area to a short hall. The first room on the left was a barren office that held a desk, an old computer, a phone, and a calendar on the wall. The next room housed a tall metal rack and a twin-sized futon mattress under a sleeping bag. This was where Nicholas had rested his head at night. Will slipped a single rubber glove onto his left hand and unzipped the green backpack next to the futon. He took each item out and laid it on the ground—a sketchbook and some pencils, a transistor radio, a few old photographs, a locket, and a small wad of cash. He did the same with the army-issue footlocker at the end of the futon, which contained Nicholas’s sparse wardrobe and an extra pair of boots.
