Harlequin Intrigue, Box Set 1 of 2

by Delores Fossen

  “Excuse me,” Faye said. “I need to call a friend.” She pointed to the woman’s cell phone sitting on the table between their two chairs. “Would you mind if I borrowed yours? It will just take a minute.”

  The woman waved toward the table. “No problem, take all the time you need.” A delighted squeal had her turning back the other way. “Jimmy, good grief. Get that out of your mouth.” She jumped up and ran after her giggling boy, who was now running down the hallway.

  Faye picked up the phone and punched in a number. The deputies finished their conversation and the two who’d just arrived moments ago started toward her. Faye clutched the phone. Hurry up. Pick up, pick up.

  “Swamp Buggy Outfitters,” the friendly voice on the line answered.

  “Buddy, it’s Faye. I need your help. I think I’m about to be arrested.”

  * * *

  TURNED OUT, DEPUTY HOLDER had no interest in driving all the way to the hospital. Not after grilling Jake with dozens of questions and deciding he had a whole lot more. He took a detour to the police station and had Jake sit with him in his office to go over everything they’d talked about, again, and to provide a written statement.

  “So you don’t know for sure whether Quinn or Gillette killed Eddie Stevens?” Holder asked.

  “No. He was dead when we got there.”

  “You and Miss Star arrived separately, though, correct?”

  “Yes, and before you go there, she wasn’t involved in Eddie’s murder. I saw her go into the house and come back out in less than thirty seconds. She didn’t have the time, much less motive, to kill him. Besides, the blood was already starting to coagulate when I checked the body.”

  “Fair enough. Let’s circle back to the Genovese murder, in Tuscaloosa. I’ve been on the phone with the lead detective who worked that case. He confirmed neither Mr. Gillette nor Miss Star...or Decker I suppose...were suspects. There were witnesses who saw both of them at the time of the murder and corroborated their alibis. But he didn’t know anything about the journal you told me about.”

  Jake shrugged. “I would assume that journal was Genovese’s secret. It’s not likely he would have told anyone about it.”

  “True. And you told me both Quinn and Gillette were after Miss Star because of the journal. Is that the only reason they were after her?”

  Jake shifted in his seat. He’d been trying to answer Holder’s questions without implicating Faye in the theft of the money. But there was no way he could avoid a direct question without lying. And lying to a fellow police officer wasn’t something he was going to do. He let out a deep breath. “No. That’s not the only reason.”

  He filled in the details about the money, about Quinn’s claims that there was two hundred thousand in the safe and Calvin’s accusations that Faye had taken the money.

  “I’m not really sure what to think,” Jake said. “Calvin wasn’t exactly in his right mind when he said that. He was under some kind of stress and seemed pretty desperate.”

  “But you said Miss Star told him she didn’t have the money anymore. That sounds like she was corroborating his claim that she took it in the first place.”

  Jake shook his head. “She was trying to placate a man who was shooting at her. Maybe she was worried he’d be even more out of control if she argued that she’d never had the money in the first place.”

  Holder leaned back in his seat. “Since you’re being forthcoming and not lying, I’ll go ahead and share what I’ve learned and try to clear up the confusion over the money for you. Unfortunately for both Miss Star and Mr. Decker, that two hundred grand in Genovese’s safe was one of his eccentricities. His financial adviser said Genovese always kept that much in his safe as his emergency fund. When the money wasn’t listed in the estate’s assets during probate, the lawyer notified the police. They listed it as stolen.”

  A sick feeling settled in the bottom of Jake’s stomach. “You don’t have any proof that Faye ended up with any of that money.”

  “I don’t have to prove it. I just have to provide a jury with reasonable doubt. And trust me. That’s not going to be hard at all. Did you know that Miss Star had over sixty thousand dollars of student loans after she graduated from the University of Alabama? And that she paid them off a couple of months after Genovese’s death? Tell me, Jake. Where do you think she got that money?”

  That sick feeling in his gut became a fiery inferno in his chest. “I have no idea.”

  “She also started that store, The Moon and Star, not long after Genovese died. Any idea where she got the money for the inventory?”

  Jake slowly shook his head. “No.”

  A knock on Holder’s open door had him glancing up in question at the police officer standing there.

  “They’re ready for you, sir.”

  “Thanks.” Holder shoved his chair back from his desk. “Looks like we’re about to get our answers. You’re welcome to watch with me if you want.”

  Jake stood. “Watch what?”

  “Miss Star’s interview on the closed-circuit monitor. They just brought her in. Detective Davey is interviewing her right now.”

  By the time the interview was over, Jake felt raw, as if someone had ripped his heart out through his throat and stomped on it. Faye had looked so innocent. She’d sounded so convincing—her tone at least. But her excuses sounded anything but convincing.

  I don’t know who paid off my student loans.

  Freddie Callahan bought the inventory for the store. I didn’t have much money when I came to Mystic Glades.

  No, I didn’t take the two hundred thousand dollars from the safe. Calvin did.

  Yes, I took the money from Calvin, but only because he shouldn’t have taken it in the first place. I don’t have it anymore. No, I didn’t spend it. I donated it to charity. I saw on the news which charity Mr. Genovese’s estate had donated everything to so I sent the money to the same one, just like the lawyers would have done if Calvin had never taken the money.

  No, of course I don’t have a receipt. It was an anonymous donation.

  Jake had heard enough. He was disgusted with himself for trusting Faye, and for letting himself fall for her. Because there was no question any more that he had fallen for her. Only a lovesick fool would have believed the lies she’d told him, especially with his background as a police detective. He should have known better. He did know better. But he’d closed his eyes to all the signs that pointed to her guilt. He’d convinced himself it was all Gillette, when Faye was just as guilty as her brother.

  The door on the interview room opened and Detective Davey stepped out, pulling a handcuffed Faye along with him to be processed into the jail.

  Her eyes widened when she saw Jake sitting at the desk a few feet away with Holder.

  “Jake,” she called out. “They’re arresting me. Help me. I don’t know what to do.”

  He steeled himself against the panic in her voice. She was a liar, a thief, a criminal. And so damn beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. But he’d never be fooled by that beautiful shell again. Because the woman inside was ugly.

  Her brows creased with confusion. “Jake?”

  He stood and walked out of the squad room without looking back.

  * * *

  JAKE STOOD IN front of his bathroom mirror and studied his reflection. Freshly showered, freshly shaved, dressed in a clean pair of jeans with his shirt tucked in, he should have felt like a new man. Especially after spending most of the past week hiking through mud and swamps. Instead, he felt empty. Drained.

  And guilty as hell.

  He kept hearing Faye’s voice. Not when she’d asked him for help, but when she’d called out his name. Just one word, four letters, but they’d carried so much fear, pain and ultimately confusion as she realized he wasn’t going to help her.

 
Had he done the right thing? He didn’t have a clue. His life had been black-and-white before this case. The lines between good and bad were clear, solid, easy to separate. Now? Now everything was murky and gray. Because even though Faye had lied, so many times, and she’d broken the law, he was making excuses for her. And he was doing everything he could to keep himself busy so he wouldn’t jump in his car and drive back to the station and beg for her forgiveness.

  His phone rang, the landline in the kitchen, which was the only way anyone could get in touch with him now that Quinn had destroyed his cell phone. He’d have to remember to pick up a new one. Maybe tomorrow. Because tonight he was pretty sure he was going to end up too drunk to go anywhere.

  He grabbed the phone on the second ring. “Young.”

  “Would it have killed you to call your business partner and friend to let me know you’re alive?”

  He plopped down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “Dex. Sorry. So much has been going on. You’re right. I should have called.”

  “You sound like hell.”

  “I feel like hell.”

  “Well, maybe this will make you feel better. When you didn’t call—after I went to all that trouble to convince Holder to go to Mystic Glades and look for you and save your sorry butt, I might add—I called him for an update. He brought me up to speed. He told me the charges against Faye were dropped.”

  Jake straightened in his chair. “What? What are you talking about? When did you talk to him?”

  “About five minutes ago. Seems that her claim about donating the two hundred grand has been corroborated by the charity. They pulled their records and confirmed the donation was made when Faye said it was, and that it was made in Genovese’s name. The Tuscaloosa police were more than happy not to pursue charges. With Quinn as their guy for Genovese’s murder, they can close that case and move on.”

  “But...what about the student loans? Faye paid off sixty thousand dollars’ worth, right after that money was taken from the safe.”

  “No, Freddie Callahan paid off Faye’s student loans. Some guy named Buddy drove Freddie to the station with a receipt for the payment to prove it. Apparently Freddie thinks of Faye as a daughter and didn’t want her to worry about her debts. But she didn’t want Faye to feel beholden to her, so she paid the loans anonymously. She’s innocent. All charges dropped. She’s on her way back to Mystic Glades right now.”

  Jake groaned and dropped his forehead against the table.

  “Jake? This is a good thing, right? Jake?”

  “I’m such an idiot. I totally screwed up. I thought she was guilty.”

  “We both did. No big deal. Wait. Why does it matter?”

  Jake didn’t say anything.

  “Um, okay,” Dex said. “I’m guessing there’s a whole lot more to your little trip through the Everglades than you’ve told me. And I’m also guessing we care what Miss Star thinks now?”

  Jake forced himself to sit up. “Yes. No.” He cursed viciously.

  “All righty then. I’m going to hang up. Call me back when you’re in a better mood.”

  Jake clutched the phone. “I did her wrong, Dex. I hurt her. I don’t expect she’ll ever be able to forgive me. I don’t even want her to. I don’t deserve it. I didn’t believe in her. But I should have.”

  “Well, then maybe you need to show her you believe in her now.”

  “Yeah, right. It’s a little late for that. How am I supposed to do that? I didn’t believe she was innocent. I didn’t believe in her, or even what was important to her. I’ve mocked her belief system more than once. I called it woo-woo science. At least twice.”

  “Ouch. You’re toast.”

  “Pretty much. I just wish there was something I could do to make it up to her. She’s lost her brother. He’s going to prison for a long time. And she’s been alone most of her life. She even had this crazy idea about her future, a plan, all because of some fortune-teller.” He stiffened. “Wait. That’s it. That’s what I can do to make it up to her. I can give her back her future, her dreams.”

  “Uh, hey, pal. I think you might have been hitting the bottle a bit early today.”

  “Nope. Haven’t had a drop. You have that fancy computer of yours handy?”

  “Always. Why?”

  “I need to you to surf the net for me.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Jake drove past the alligator sign that announced the entrance to Mystic Glades and drove under the arch.

  Bam! Something exploded against his window. He slammed on his brakes. Bam! Bam! Two more missiles exploded against the glass, spilling their slimy, yellow goo.

  Eggs. Someone was pelting his car with eggs. Awesome.

  He turned the windshield washer on and continued down the street. More eggs slammed against the windshield, the roof, his door. But whoever the culprits were, they were hiding so well he hadn’t seen any of them. He continued his drive of shame down the street, past The Moon and Star, and parked in front of Swamp Buggy Outfitters.

  He got out of the car with the tool he’d bought after Dex had located a store for him. Bam! An egg slammed against the side of his head. He clenched his jaw and ignored the sticky slime as it dribbled down his jaw. He marched into SBO.

  Buddy was sitting with the other old-timers by a display of canoes. His gaze shot to the egg dripping from Jake’s hair as Jake strode toward him. Buddy stood, his jaw tight when Jake stopped right in front of him.

  “Buddy, I need to borrow your swamp buggy.”

  Bam! White-hot fire burst inside Jake’s skull as he flew backward from the force of Buddy’s punch. He landed on a display of beanbag chairs that thankfully softened his fall. He held his hand to his throbbing cheek and pushed himself upright just as Buddy and his crew circled around him like a pack of vultures ready to pick his bones, except they weren’t willing to wait until he was dead before starting their meal.

  Buddy drew back his fist again.

  Jake held his hands up in surrender. “I deserved that. I deserved that and a whole lot more. And if you want to beat me to a pulp I’ll let you, but not right now. I have something more important to do. And I need your help.”

  Buddy bobbed on his feet like a championship boxer waiting for an opening. “And why would I want to help a slimeball like you?”

  “Because I’m not asking you to help me. I’m asking you to help Faye.”

  He slowly lowered his fists and gave him a suspicious look. “Start talking.”

  * * *

  FAYE STOOD BESIDE Amy and Freddie looking out the front window of her shop toward SBO.

  “What do you think he’s doing in there?” Amy asked. “And what was it he carried in there? It looked like a cattle prod or something.”

  Faye shook her head. “I have no idea.” She chewed her bottom lip. “He’s been in there a while. I hope he’s okay.”

  Freddie snorted beside her. “Quit worrying about him. Whatever happens, he’s probably getting what he deserves. And we certainly don’t care.” She grabbed Faye’s shoulders and pulled her away from the window.

  “Wait,” Amy called out. “That huge glass window is opening up like a door on the front of the store.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh, my gosh. What are they doing?”

  Faye and Freddie hurried back to the window. Buddy’s brand-new, state-of-the-art swamp buggy rolled through the enormous door out onto the street. Buddy was driving. At least a dozen of his friends were sitting on top of the platform with him. And standing beside Buddy was Jake, holding that crazy-looking pole contraption he’d had when he got out of the car.

  The buggy turned and headed down the street, toward the swamp.

  “What in the world are they doing?” Amy cried.

  Freddie pulled Faye back from the window again. “Like I already said, we don’t care. Faye, you said you’d make up a batch of that hand lotion for my frien
d, Estelle. Well, time’s a wastin’ and she’s not getting any younger.”

  Faye let her friend lead her to the counter. There was no point in staring after Jake anyway. He’d made his feelings for her—or lack of them—perfectly clear when he’d abandoned her at the police station.

  * * *

  FAYE PATTED ESTELLE’S HAND. “Just put the lotion on twice a day and your hands will be soft and smooth again in no time.”

  “Thanks, Faye. You’re the best.” Estelle gave her a hug and headed out of the shop.

  Faye slumped against the counter. “Let’s close up early tonight, Amy. I’m worn-out. I don’t know what I was thinking opening today anyway. We’ll just have to work extra hard this weekend to make up for the lost sales.”

  “You’re the boss.” Amy straightened one last row of jewelry in the window display and turned to go. “Faye, wait, wait! They’re back. And they’re coming this way!”

  Faye hurried in from the back room. “Who’s back? What are you talking about?”

  “The guys. Buddy and...” She bit her lip. “Jake.”

  The door to the store burst open. Jake stood in the opening, covered from head to toe in dirt and mud. He glanced at Amy and looked around until he saw Faye standing in the hallway. He marched toward her, and behind him Buddy and all of his friends poured inside. They were all grinning and holding rifles. Everyone except Jake.

  Faye put her hands on her hips. “Buddy, what did you guys do to him?”

  “Nothing, honest.” He coughed. “I may have punched him, but that was before.”

  “Before?” She blinked and looked up at Jake, who had stopped right in front of her.

  “Faye.”

  “Jake.” A big glob of mud slid down from his hair and plopped onto the carpet. She winced. That was going to stain.

  “I was a jerk.”

  She looked up at him. “Uh, yeah. You were. What did you and Buddy—”

  “I didn’t believe you. I should have. I’m sorry.”

  She leaned over and peered behind him. The entire shop was filling up. Freddie was back, leaning against a display, drinking from a bottle of Hennessey, or whatever homemade brew she’d put in the bottle. Sammie gave her a sheepish wave from the corner by the clothing racks, with CeeCee draped over his shoulders. She straightened and cleared her throat. “So that’s why you’re here? To apologize?”