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Devil's Food Cake

Page 15

by Josi S. Kilpack


  The phone rang five times before it went to voice mail where her voice told her to leave a message. Did she really sound so whiney?

  She didn’t leave a message and instead called her phone a second time. It went to voice mail again. What did that mean? Why wasn’t Shawn answering? Was he simply ignoring it? Or was he out of the car and unable to hear it? Or was he bleeding to death on the side of the highway somewhere? The last thought made it hard to breathe. She’d told him to chase Josh. What kind of mother puts her son in such a dangerous situation? She wished she’d given him more instructions. Would he call the police on his own? Would he try to confront Josh himself? The idea made the room spin slightly.

  “Are you okay?”

  Sadie shook her head, trying to swallow the anxiety building in her throat. “What have I done?” she said under her breath.

  “You tell me,” Eric said.

  She was glad to see he wasn’t smiling this time. They looked at one another for a few seconds before Sadie looked away, once again embarrassed to be there, to have Pete dismiss her to this man, and to have not kept better track of her son.

  What do I do now? she asked herself, thinking through her options. Pete wanted her to go home—but that was impossible. She couldn’t leave Shawn out there, and she couldn’t pretend she didn’t know what she knew. Which meant she only had one option, even though the thought made her wilt inside. It wouldn’t be pretty.

  “Can you take me to the Carmichael Hotel, please?” Sadie asked, not liking the sound of surrender in her voice. She needed to make Pete listen to her, she knew that, but she dreaded facing him again. Based on his reaction when she tried to tell him about Jane, as well as the fact that he’d told her via Eric to go home again, she had little doubt it would be an awkward discussion. She could only hope that once she got the words out, Pete would realize why she had to go to such great lengths to make sure he heard what she had to say.

  “The hotel where the shooting took place?” Eric asked.

  “You know about the shooting?” Sadie asked, looking quickly at him.

  “It was on the news.” He pointed his thumb at the TV set in the living room. The picture was still on, but he had muted the sound. “Is that what this is all about?”

  Chapter 26

  Strangely enough, though Eric’s house was a disaster area, his car—a Jeep Cherokee—was clean enough that she was able to relax for the first time that evening. The scented air freshener smelled like vanilla. She liked that; it reminded her of baking.

  “There’s a loading area around back,” Sadie said as they approached the hotel. There were easily a dozen news vans lining the road beside the main parking lot, which was still blocked off.

  The snowstorm had gotten worse since her fall into the bushes. Wind whipped through the naked tree branches and the snow was coming down fast and hard through the darkened night, making the roads quite treacherous. She was glad Eric’s car had four-wheel drive.

  He followed her instructions, pulling to a stop at the back lot entrance as an officer stepped out from his car that was parked nearby. “Thank you for doing this,” Sadie said quietly as they waited for the officer to reach them.

  Eric smiled. “Letterman’s a rerun,” he said with a shoulder shrug. “Besides, now I’m curious. I’m still hoping to figure out what exactly is going on.”

  Sadie felt guilty about that. Didn’t he deserve to know? Especially since he was driving her around?

  The officer reached the door, and Eric rolled down the window, allowing snow to come into the car.

  “The hotel’s on lockdown,” the officer said.

  “She needs to see Detective Cunningham,” Eric said with authority.

  Sadie did a double take. How did he know she was coming to talk to Detective Cunningham? Then she remembered he’d seen the news, listened to her 911 call, and talked to Pete himself.

  Eric continued with confidence. “He needs to hear what she has to say.”

  The officer hesitated. “I’ll need to get permission,” he said, grabbing for his radio.

  “I know where Thom Mortenson is,” Sadie yelled across the seat, causing both men to look at her in surprise. “Or, at least where he was twenty minutes ago. I tried to call Detective Cunningham, but he . . . didn’t seem to understand what I was trying to tell him. I really need to speak with him.”

  “She really needs to speak with him,” Eric repeated, speaking calmly as though he knew all the details. He was so comfortable that she couldn’t help but wonder if he knew more than she thought he did. But how could he? He was a random homeowner of a random house she’d run to for help. She shook her head in hopes of shaking the suspicion from her mind.

  Meanwhile, the officer spoke into his speaker-thing and then leaned back into the window.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Sadie Hoffmiller,” she said.

  He nodded and went back to his speaker-thing for a few more seconds before turning back to the car. “Go in. They’re waiting for you in the ballroom.”

  Sadie couldn’t hide the triumph in her smile as Eric nodded and pulled into the parking lot. There were two police cars back here now, and most of the cars that had been there earlier were gone—probably staff who’d been allowed to go home. Sadie wondered if Jane was still inside.

  Eric pulled into a parking spot and Sadie climbed out, trying to ignore the constant pain in her shoulder. These murder investigations always seemed to end up a little brutal on her poor body. She was surprised when Eric met her at the back of the car.

  “Come on,” Eric said with a rueful grin, which emphasized the laugh lines around his eyes. “You didn’t think I was going to let you go in alone, did you?”

  Sadie was torn between offense and kindred-spiritedness. He was curious just like she was. At least she hoped that’s what it was and not that he was simply feeling protective of her. She could take care of herself, but had learned that no one ever believed you when you tried to convince them of that. An appropriate reply did not present itself, so she merely smiled politely and headed for the door. Eric fell in step beside her, matching her stride. No one had come in or out of the back door in some time; the thin layer of snow was intact on the blacktop.

  The kitchen door was locked, but after they knocked, an officer let them in. Sadie thanked him, and he nodded before leading the way through the empty and quiet kitchen. All the lights were off except for those above the triple sinks, and Andy, his staff, and the catering equipment were gone as well, which was somewhat unsettling for Sadie—though she couldn’t imagine why it mattered. Eric followed her into the hallway, where the officer showed them to the door that led to the ballroom. Sadie paused and looked at the door before taking a breath and pushing it open. This was the moment of truth. She didn’t know what she’d do if Pete refused to listen to her this time.

  The ballroom was still a mess. The poor hotel employees were going to be up all night. She stopped just inside the ballroom to better survey the scene and get her bearings.

  There weren’t many people left in the room, just a handful of officers and some plainclothesmen she skimmed over. She was looking for Pete, but she didn’t see him. The man with the wiry eyebrows looked at her briefly, however, then nodded to Officer Malloy, who was talking with another officer near the stage. Sadie frowned as Malloy approached her. Where was Pete? Malloy had made it painfully obvious he didn’t like her. She’d rather not make her report to him.

  When Malloy was about six feet away from her, he reached behind his back, and Sadie felt herself stiffen. Something about this was all wrong.

  Moments later Malloy held a pair of handcuffs in one hand. Sadie stared at them and then up at Malloy. He couldn’t be serious. But his expression proved he was, in fact, completely serious. Sadie’s eyes immediately whipped around the room again, desperately searching for Pete. Where was he? Did he know this was happening?

  Malloy grabbed her right wrist and snapped on the handcuffs.
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  “Wait a minute!” she spat as rage and humiliation shot up her spine and the back of her head. “Wh-What are you doing?”

  Malloy didn’t answer, though he had the decency to look uncomfortable.

  This was ridiculous, unnecessary, and . . . rude. She looked around the room for Pete one last time.

  “Are you arresting me?” she demanded.

  “Sadie Hoffmiller, you are under arrest for interfering with a police investigation. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be . . .”

  Chapter 27

  Shock and anger were the only reasons Sadie did what Malloy said and remained silent. But after a few seconds—around the part in the Miranda warning where Malloy was telling her about court-appointed attorneys—Sadie determined that she was not going to do this their way. Every minute they wasted was more time she didn’t know where her son was. While Malloy tried to figure out what to do with the other cuff since her left arm was strapped to her chest, Sadie took a deep breath and yelled as loudly as she could, “Thom Mortenson was at the home of Donna Hender twenty minutes ago!”

  Every head in the room turned to her, and she closed her eyes in hopes of blocking out the absolute mortification she felt at having had to resort to such measures. Her reputation as a respectable member of the community was officially on the line. Despite the fact that she was right, outbursts like this simply were not looked upon as trustworthy behavior.

  Malloy gave up on cuffing her other arm, but yanked her good arm toward the door, sending a jolt of pain through her shoulder that caused her to gasp. Malloy didn’t seem to notice.

  Sadie felt she had no choice but to continue. “Donna Hender lives at 1318 Morning Glen Road! She’s the mother of Josh Hender, the man who was taking photographs of Mr. Ogreski earlier this evening—”

  “That’s enough,” Malloy said, pulling her forward and causing her to stumble a few steps. She opened her eyes and gave him the dirtiest, angriest look she could manage. He didn’t even flinch as he continued pulling her toward the exit. She took another breath. Even if no one believed her, they couldn’t pretend they hadn’t heard what she’d said. Eventually they would have to look into it and then they would prove her right. She wondered if they would apologize.

  She attempted to stop her forward momentum by pressing her heels into the floor, but her clogs simply slid across the flat, gray carpet.

  Eric stood just inside the door, his eyebrows raised as he watched her humiliating arrest. Housekeeping skills aside, he was a nice man and must think she was an absolute loon.

  Sadie only had eight more feet before Malloy would shove her out of the room. She took full advantage of those eight feet and screamed as loud as she could, “Josh escaped through the back parking lot, and Frank Argula’s niece—Michele something—drove the getaway car. Josh Hender was best friends with Damon Mortenson!”

  Malloy, still holding her arm firmly, reached forward to open the ballroom door. Sadie put her left foot out, pushing it against the doorway. Malloy swore but Sadie kept yelling, cramming her words together in order to fit as many in as possible. “Josh barely graduated from high school, but he told everyone he was on scholarship and less than an hour ago my son chased after him when he tried to run and then Thom showed up at Josh’s house after Mrs. Hender hit me in the head with a frying pan and—”

  Malloy grabbed both of Sadie’s upper arms from behind, causing her to gasp in pain as her shoulder ignited all over again. Malloy forced her through the door while she yelled, “And I found a letter and a key!” The door shut in her face. Sadie tried to catch her breath in the eerie silence of the hallway.

  “What on earth was that?” Malloy roared, spinning her around to face him. Another razor of pain shot through her arm and shoulder, and she tried to suppress a grimace. Malloy’s red face looked ready to explode. She hoped he didn’t taser her. She’d seen that on YouTube and it looked awful.

  “I’m done,” she said as calmly as possible, hoping he would follow suit. Besides, she was done. She’d said what she needed to say and had no reason to continue shouting. “I had to get the words out,” she said. “No one will listen to me.” She glanced around quickly. They were alone. Eric hadn’t followed her out of the ballroom.

  “That’s because you are certifiably insane,” Malloy said, shaking his head in disbelief as he held onto the other half of the handcuffs connected to her right wrist.

  “You would need a psychiatrist to make that determination,” Sadie said, hoping she sounded intelligent and not defensive. She tried to shift her shoulder, which was hurting quite a bit since Malloy had grabbed her. Moving it only made it worse though, and she bit her bottom lip. After the pain passed, she let out a breath and met Malloy’s eyes again. “When no one will listen, sometimes you have to scream.”

  Chapter 28

  At that moment, one of the questions rolling around in her brain came to the forefront. Why would whoever killed Mr. Ogreski go to such pains to make it public? To scream it, so to speak.

  Rigging up the shotgun and disabling the microphone were not easy and simple considerations. The planning behind this murder was intense, which meant the reason for it must have been equally so. If Mr. Ogreski was a mistaken target, whoever set up the murder would have been horrified. The plan would have failed. Would Josh Hender have taken pictures of the wrong body if he were part of a plan that had gone awry?

  Malloy was looking at her, his jaw working as if he were biting back all kinds of things he wanted to say.

  Sadie lowered her chin and glared at him with extreme malice. “I know you don’t like me, Officer Malloy, and I can live with that. I also realize that my relationship”—saying that word stung her heart a little bit. What on earth would Pete think of her when he heard about this?—“my relationship with Detective Cunningham has earned me cautious treatment. But despite how you feel about me, you have to ask yourself why would I make this stuff up? I know it makes me look foolish to keep pressing these issues, but I can promise you that I would not have put my reputation on the line if not because, like you, justice is my primary goal. Josh Hender drove away from his house an hour ago, and my son is pursuing him. I have a key and a letter in my pocket—both of which I found in Josh’s room. It’s wrong for you to ignore what I’ve discovered simply because you don’t want me to know it.” She took a deep breath as her quick monologue had left her a little light-headed. “Now, I need help finding my son. Where is Detective Cunningham? I need to speak with him.”

  “He’s not the lead detective on the case,” Malloy said, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And you can thank yourself for that. He’s been sent to look into other things.”

  Sadie swallowed the lump forming in her throat. Pete was being penalized because of her? That was horrible, and yet it didn’t make her information any less important. “Then I need to speak to the lead detective. You can’t ignore me, Malloy, and neither can he. Justice demands you hear what I have to say.”

  Malloy stared at her. He still looked angry, but there was a question in his eyes, a question she could almost read letter by letter. What if she’s right? As much as he didn’t want to consider it, he couldn’t help it. She stared back until he looked away. A moment later he moved to the wall where several folding chairs had been stacked. He grabbed one, unfolded it, and waved her to it. “Sit,” he said simply.

  “With these cuffs and everything?” Sadie asked, begging him with her eyes and her tone of voice. She had too much pride to come right out and ask.

  He ignored the request and pulled her forward—rather roughly, in her opinion—and clipped the empty cuff to the side of the chair.

  Sadie frowned at the chair she was now partnered with.

  Malloy didn’t say another word as he went through the door of the ballroom, leaving her alone in the hall. She hoped he was going to talk to the lead detective, maybe even try to convince the other officers to consider the things Sadie had said. She hoped they would see reas
on and stop this before it went any further.

  Please listen to him, she begged in her mind. Please, please, please, listen to him!

  After a few more seconds, she gave into the inevitable wait and sat down on the chair. Between the sling and the handcuff, she had to wriggle around to get even a little bit comfortable.

  She kept her eyes trained on the ballroom door, waiting for Malloy to return and let her know her fate. But the sound of a door opening from the other direction caused her to turn her head.

  Eric poked his head through the doors leading to the common area of the hotel, then put a finger to his lips. He looked around as if making sure they were alone and then entered slowly and carefully. His stealthy behavior was a little creepy and Sadie found herself leaning away from him as he approached.

  Her eyebrows came together in confusion. “What are—”

  “Shh,” he said, cutting her off and squatting in front of her so close she could smell him again. She tried not to make a face. Did he know how badly he smelled? If she didn’t know better, she’d think he hadn’t had a shower in a week.

  “You said you have a key,” he said, looking at her intently. “What’s it to?”

  “I don’t know,” Sadie said warily. “I found it.”

  “Can I see it?” Eric asked.

  Sadie hesitated, watching him closely. She didn’t know this man. Why would he want to see the key? That didn’t seem like a smart decision.

  He watched her for a moment, waiting for her answer. When she didn’t move, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his car keys. He separated a small key from the others on the ring.

  It was a key Sadie recognized from past experience, and her eyes widened in surprise. “You have a handcuff key?”

  Eric nodded and took hold of the wrist shackled to the chair.

  “Wait,” Sadie said as soon as she realized what he was doing. “Don’t—” But the ring fell off her wrist, clanging against the metal chair. Sadie stared at it for a split second before her eyes snapped back to her uninvited rescuer.

 

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