by Jen Talty
“I didn’t kill my father.”
“I believe you.” Emma rose and held her hand out. “It’s important that you cooperate with the police, but there are certain things I will recommend that you don’t do. Trust me. This is what I do for a living.”
“It’s hard to trust a woman I just met.”
“I understand,” Emma said. “But I know you, your family history, and I believe you didn’t kill your father.” She turned to the door and called for Blaine.
4
“Why do we have to wait for Hadley?” Kaylee asked after Blaine announced the latest round of questioning wouldn’t begin for a while. “I want to get out of here.” She’d been in Blaine’s mundane office for over an hour now, and nothing about the off-white, blank walls appealed to her.
His desk was cluttered with files. She glanced up at the water stains lining the drop ceiling. She’d only seen the inside of police a station on television or in the movies, and they didn’t look like this. Even the white blinds looked like a blue light special that wasn’t such a good deal after all.
The tiny office was already cramped with her, Blaine, the ice princess, and Dave.
“Unless you’re going to charge my client, I suggest you get on with this,” Emma said with her legs crossed at her ankles. “We’re going above and beyond what one would consider cooperation. Kaylee doesn’t have to be here.” Emma reminded Kaylee of a nasty blizzard that the world wanted to hide from in the warmth of their homes, but enjoyed watching from their windows.
“Hadley’s bringing Rutherford’s will, and I’d like you to hear it,” Dave said.
“Why?” Emma asked.
“Because it doesn’t help your client,” Hadley said as he strolled into Blaine’s office. “And this isn’t the right way to go about these things. The reading of the will shouldn’t be done in the coldness of your office.” He waved his finger in the direction of Blaine. “Jesus, the man was your father-in-law.”
Emma dropped her pen.
“Someone needs to tell me exactly what the hell is going on,” Kaylee said. Fear rippled down her spine, but she’d learned over the last few years to absorb that fear inward. Her father had sent her his will five years ago, and she wasn’t in it. If he had changed it since then, her status as possible suspect would probably jump to murderer in less than the time it took to say murderer.
“Don’t speak unless I tell you it’s okay,” Emma said. “And considering Blaine is your ex-husband…I will say for the second time, I don’t like him present.”
“I’m his boss,” Dave said. “This is my investigation. He stays.”
“Then he needs to stop interrogating my client.”
Blaine removed the ponytail holder and raked his hand through his long, dark hair, then dropped the hair tie back in his desk drawer. When his headaches got too much, he couldn’t even pull back his hair because it hurt too much. “For the record, Miss. Peterson, this is an interview. Different from an interrogation.”
Kaylee wanted to scream. “I’m fine with him here. Could we just get on with it?”
Hadley set his briefcase down and pulled out some papers. “As of two months ago, Rutherford Mead changed his will, leaving his entire estate to his daughter— lock, stock, and barrel.” Hadley glanced around the room. “No one else is named in the will.”
“That doesn’t mean my client did anything—”
Blaine cut Emma off. “No one’s accused her of anything.” He rubbed his temples. “She gets it all? Investments. The business. Everything?”
“The business is a separate entity, but she gets his proceeds unless she wants to sell his portion. But as far as everything else, she gets it all except for one special instruction.”
Kaylee could only imagine what his special instruction would be. Knowing her father, it would be something so personally offensive to Kaylee that she wouldn’t want his money. “What’s the condition?”
“If Kaylee chooses not to take ownership of the estate, she can’t sell it. Ownership reverts to—”
“The Church of the Risen Christ,” Kaylee said.
“Actually, ownership will go to Blaine Walker,” Hadley said.
“Blaine? What the hell?” Kaylee said. Her father had never approved of Blaine or his family. Even though Blaine’s father had been one of the top executives in his money management firm, he didn’t like the man much. Trusted him even less.
“Yeah, why me?” Blaine asked dryly.
“I guess now that Rutherford is dead, I can say this.”
“Say what?” Kaylee asked, her mind spinning. Nothing made sense. Her father wouldn’t just give Blaine anything, unless it meant getting him out of her life.
“Rutherford told me that he never wanted to lay eyes on Reverend Jack Hicks or his wife again. And he needed to make right a lot of wrongs.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Jack was one of Rutherford’s best friends,” Blaine said. “This was how long ago?”
“A few weeks ago,” Rutherford said. “He signed the final documents in my office less than a month ago.”
Kaylee tried to clear her mind and think this through. Her father could be a ruthless man, but he wasn’t vindictive. That church meant something to him, so for him to do that, he would have had to have a very good reason. “Do you have any idea why? Because it sounds like some weird twisted form of revenge on either myself or Blaine or both.”
“It wasn’t that,” Hadley said. “But he wouldn’t fill me in on the details.”
Kaylee had known from the moment she had decided to come back to Thief Lake that she’d have to tell someone her troubles. She just thought that someone would have been her father. Not his attorney, her ex-husband, or her husband’s lover, if her suspicions were right about Emma and Blaine
“Two months ago—“
“Ms. Mead—” Emma started, but Kaylee hushed her by putting up a hand. Sitting in jail might actually be safer.
“I called my father seeking money and help after recovering from a serious injury.” Kaylee rose, ignoring the stares from the people around the room and went to the window. She wished for rain, but only so she could watch it drip from the sky so while she told her story, she didn’t have to actually relive it.
“What kind of injury?” Blaine asked. His voice was riddled with concern and anger.
“I was attacked in my apartment six months ago.” Kaylee’s muscles constricted as if she were being stabbed all over again. “During my recovery, I realized I was in deep trouble and asked my father for help. After a few arguments, he agreed, and here I am.”
“What kind of trouble?” Blaine asked.
“Don’t answer that,” Emma said.
“I’ll ask the questions,” Dave said. “What kind of trouble, Ms. Mead?”
She swallowed and turned from Blaine’s burning eyes. “Mostly financial, and some personal issues with my ex-boss.”
“When did you leave to come here?” Dave continued.
“A little over a week ago.”
“It took you a week to get here from Chicago?“ Blaine asked.
“I’ll do the questioning,” Dave said again. “Why did it take you a week?”
“I had to stop because of back pain and other problems that came from the attack.” Not to mention making sure she wasn’t being followed and driving in a few circles.
“Do you have receipts? Credit card information about where you stayed during that week?” Dave questioned.
Kaylee could feel Blaine staring at her. She remembered his tender touch this morning when he’d ran his fingers over her scars.
“I paid for everything with cash.”
A single, dark cloud crossed the sun’s path, dimming the office. She knew deep down this situation was only going to get worse.
“Can you give me names of the towns you stayed in? The hotels?” Dave continued the questioning.
“Can I speak to Blaine alone?” Kaylee turned and looked at him. “Please.”
�
��Not without your lawyer present, you don’t. Why don’t you talk to me first?” Emma stood, placing a firm hand on Kaylee’s forearm.
“Her prints match those on the kitchen door, the sink, the dishwasher, and the table next to the stairs,” Dave said, leaning against the doorjamb. “Which is everything she told us she touched. Her gun didn’t test positive, and her hands were clean. No gun residue.”
“I’ve never fired it,” Kaylee said.
“Not even when you bought it?” Hadley asked.
“Don’t answer that,” Emma said.
“She wouldn’t have to; she’s a damn good shot.” Blaine let out a dry chuckle.
Kaylee bit back a smile when she locked gazes with Blaine. When they had started dating, he decided to teach her how to shoot. She pretended to play dumb, and then proceeded to shoot three cans sitting way too close to his Mustang. He hadn’t known her father had taken her duck hunting all the time.
“Even though her prints were in the house, she found her father, and the issue with the will, we have no reason to believe she killed her father. On the other hand, she’s a person of interest.”
“That’s one way to make a suspect feel at home and say things that could be misconstrued and twisted a half-dozen ways,” Emma said.
“You know that’s not how we work,” Dave said.
Kaylee was getting tired of everyone arguing. “I will answer any and all questions.”
“I need a word with you.” Dave motioned to Blaine.
“Excuse me.” Blaine glided across the office and out into the hallway with Dave.
“Okay, Ms. Mead, start talking.” The ice princess pulled out a legal pad, forcing Kaylee back to reality. “What are you hiding?”
“Why do you think she’s hiding anything?” Hadley asked.
Emma continued to stare into Kaylee’s eyes. The woman’s resolve was maddening. Not to mention she no longer felt like the ice princess. “Because she only said she was attacked. Didn’t say by who. If it was random. No details. You’re hiding something, what is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Who attacked you?” Emma said. “Are they in jail? Could they have killed your father?”
“This has nothing to do with my father’s death,” Kaylee said, but she couldn’t be sure, and she wasn’t ready to tell anyone anything. “Trust me on that.”
“Your father did tell me you were in trouble,” Hadley said.
“My medical bills were piling up, and I had a shit job.”
“What was your job?” Emma asked.
“I was an executive secretary in a law firm.”
“Really? Not necessarily a shit job.” Emma actually cracked a smile. “What kind of law firm?”
“Mostly business stuff.”
“In the city?” Emma jotted things down on her legal pad.
“Are you my lawyer or a cop?”
Emma let out a long breath, closed her hands in her lap, and very slowly tilted her head toward Kaylee.
“Right now, I’m your best freaking friend.” She ran her fingers through her ponytail. “And if you want to keep me that way, you’ll tell me what I want to know.”
“Kaylee, she’s really good,” Hadley said. “I’d trust her if I were you.”
“I’m sure she is, but my father’s dead…” she fought to compose herself. “I don’t even know where or how to bury him.”
“His wishes are all right here.” Hadley handed her a piece of paper. “Pretty detailed.” Hadley gave her a sympathetic smile.
Kaylee knew a thing or two about hiding things, and she got the distinct impression Hadley had a few secrets of his own.
“I can only help you if you tell me everything leading up to your return.” Emma took her pad and slipped it back in her briefcase, then pulled out a card and handed it to Kaylee. “My cell. Call me day or night, but make sure it’s before you talk to Blaine. In the meantime, I want you to map out everything about your life and movements over the last six months, including the details about your attacker. You don’t have to give them to me right now, but I want you to do it in the next twenty-four hours.” She gave Kaylee a warm smile.
“It’s not going to help,” Kaylee said.
“I know there’s something that you don’t want me, or Blaine, or whoever to know. Honestly, I don’t give a shit, but if you get arrested, and I have to defend you—”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Kaylee turned and stared back out the window. “I haven’t even hired you.”
“Well, I’d want to. I highly doubt you killed Rutherford, but I can’t defend you unless I know everything. And I need to know it before Blaine does. Anything you say or do, he can use against you.”
“Basically, I tell you my dirty little secrets, and you’ll protect me from the long arm of the law.”
“That’s what I get paid to do.” Emma stuck her hand out.
Kaylee glanced down at the steady hand with the uncontrollable urge to slap it away. Yet, at the same time, she felt a kinship toward this woman, a sense of companionship that infuriated and comforted her.
Grasping Emma’s hand in a firm shake, almost trying to hurt the woman, she said, “Deal.” Kaylee wanted to feel like she’d just sold herself to the devil, but instead she felt relief.
The sharp jab Blaine felt stabbing into his brain had become increasingly unbearable. The medication could only do so much, and he had little time left before he’d be rendered useless. He glanced at his watch on his way out of his office.
“You okay?” Dave asked.
“I will be when this day is over.”
“You can go home. We really don’t have enough to make any kind of arrest, so we can continue the interview later.”
Blaine closed his eyes briefly, catching his breath and gaining focus. “I’ll take you up on that.”
“As long as you let Kaylee drive.” A firm, fatherly hand squeezed his shoulder. “Speaking of her.”
Blaine peeked open his eyes, the bright lights almost blinding him as the bile in his stomach flew up his throat.
“We have unidentified fingerprints on the staircase, the front door, and in the kitchen. I didn’t want to say that in there with a defense attorney.”
“I take it they’re all the same print?”
Dave nodded. “None of which match Kaylee. Her gun is clean, but that doesn’t mean anything because Rutherford’s wasn’t. It appears whoever shot him, may have used his gun.”
“Her whereabouts the week before his death are sketchy, but I still can’t believe she’d kill him, even unintentionally.” Blaine swallowed.
“Until we have a better suspect, I want you to keep a close eye on her. I want her to take a lie detector test, too, but you’ve got to let me or Williams do most of this. You can always be present, but you can’t lead the questions.”
“It just kind of started.”
Dave’s brow shot up. “Don’t let it happen again.”
Blaine nodded. “What kind of crazy, sick game was Rutherford playing by saying if she didn’t want the house, that I got it?”
“That is bizarre. Then again, Rutherford’s behavior has always been a bit eccentric.”
“Wonder what happened between him and Jack Hicks.”
“I heard they had a fight, but I didn’t pay much attention.” Dave rubbed his jaw. “Does Kaylee have any idea who her biological father is?”
Ignoring the spots dancing about the hallway, Blaine focused on Dave and his words. “Not to my knowledge. There have been so many rumors over the years, most of them suggesting that half this town slept with her mother.”
“I think that’s the half we start with. And Hadley’s sitting in your office.”
“Shit. I thought you said I could go home.”
“Just ask him. I’ll get Kaylee a cup of coffee and see what I can dig up. Did you know Emma’s been hanging out with my son, Toby?”
“I know she’s hired him a few times.” Blaine blinked, trying to keep the inevita
ble from happening.
“Toby’s been acting weird lately.”
“He’s been busy.”
“It seems he’s been a homebody, or at least that’s what all the bartenders are telling me.” Dave stared up at the ceiling, obviously thinking about something besides his wayward son.
“What now?”
“It’s about your mother.”
“Oh, no. You’re joking, right? You want to talk to me about my mother and her love life? Now?” It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen the way Dave had been looking at his mother over the last few months. Hell, they were both widowed and about the same age. “You’ve got some balls.”
“I guess this is the wrong time, huh?”
Blaine wanted to shake his head, but it would hurt too much. “You want to take my mother out, ask her; don’t come to me.”
“So, I have your blessing?”
“Christ, get the hell out of my way.” Blaine took careful steps back to the office.
“Emma. Dave would like a word with you and Kaylee,” he said softly as he walked into his office.
Emma snagged her briefcase, giving him that same cold stare she’d given him the last time they’d crossed paths.
“Kaylee, let’s go,” Emma said.
“Don’t go far.” Blaine kept his gaze on Kaylee.
“She doesn’t talk to you without me,” Emma said. “She doesn’t talk to you period.”
“This has nothing to do with the case,” Blaine said, keeping his gaze locked with Kaylee’s.
“Don’t care,” Emma said and left. Kaylee followed Emma and Hadley set off for the door.
“I need a word with you,” Blaine said, bracing himself against his desk.
“I thought so.” He turned and plopped himself in one of the chairs. “Ask away.”
Blaine took a moment and settled himself in his chair, trying to clear his head, although it felt like a bomb had exploded between his ears. “Did you have an affair with Roberta Mead?” he asked, not going through any of the standard lead-in questions.
