by Talty, Jen
“Not much. We only met twice. They weren’t close. Actually, half-sisters, but Mary did—does—have a will, and she was pretty explicit about how that got handled.”
“Including you paying for it?” Jim asked.
“No, I offered. And it’s the right thing to do.”
Stacey didn’t necessarily agree, but she’d have that argument with Doug another time.
“Has the sister asked anything about the murder? Accused you of it?”
Doug shook his head. “We didn’t talk much at all, and I doubt we will. When I say they weren’t close, I mean they were total strangers. Olivia is eighteen years older, and the only reason she’s doing this is because her father would have wanted her to.”
“Okay,” Jillian said. “Have any funeral plans been made?”
“I don’t know, exactly. Something small. Outside of Albany, where her parents are buried.”
“It might not be as small as you want it to be,” Jillian said. “We’re going to have to make sure that your part in this doesn’t look fake, or like you’re playacting the grieving widower. It’s not that you don’t have feelings, but the reports are playing on the divorce, so you have to care, but not care, if that makes sense. If everyone thought you had a happy marriage, it would be different.”
“I plan on attending,” Doug said. “I owe her that.”
“As you should. But I want to keep you as far from the center of attention as possible.” Jillian continued to nibble on her food. “But we can talk about this later. Right now, we need to focus on the next forty-eight hours, which are going to be crucial to the prosecutors. If they can’t find enough to arrest you, the public is going to go ballistic, demanding answers, which actually works in our favor.”
“That could go the other way,” Stacey said.
“That’s why we have to give the public and the cops someone else to focus their attention on.” Jillian checked her watch. “I really need to get going. Thanks for breakfast.”
“I’ll walk you to your car,” Jim said.
Stacey leaned her shoulder against Doug’s and watched as her father placed his hand on the small of Jillian’s back, opened the door, and then followed her out to the driveway. “My dad had a woman spend the night,” she said quietly.
Doug let out a soft chuckle. “First time for everything.”
“My dad got laid. I think there is something wrong with that statement.”
“Very wrong.” Doug laughed as he started to clear the plates. “Freud would probably have a field day with what went on here last night.”
Stacey slipped between Doug and the sink, wrapping her arms around his middle. “He’s seems happy with her, and she with him. And we’re—well, we’re happy with each other, right?”
He kissed her nose. “When this is over we’ll have our chance.”
The back door slammed shut, and Stacey took a step back. She teased her father a lot, but her relationship with Doug was probably a topic best left for another day.
Still, she couldn’t manage to keep her mouth shut. “I’ve wanted you to have a woman in your life, like, forever. However, I never thought I’d have to witness the walk of shame.”
“Definitely not that kind of walk.” Jim sipped his coffee. “And I’d wipe that funny look off your face, because it hasn’t gone unnoticed by me that the two of you are wearing the same clothes as yesterday, and by the way, my darling daughter, your shirt is on inside out.”
Stacey quickly checked her shirt, and sure enough…inside out. Her cheeks flushed. She noticed Doug’s turned bright red.
“Jim, I… I…” Doug stuttered.
“Don’t finish that thought,” Jim said. “I said ‘maybe’ dating. ‘Maybe’ being the operative word.”
“Jillian seems like a great woman. I really like her. I think you’re perfect for each other,” Stacey said, trying to deflect the conversation.
Jim let out a long sigh. “Well, I’m glad. I really kind of like her, too,” he said. “She’s going to be coming around a lot more.”
“Good,” Stacey said. “So, Doug will be spending a lot of time in—”
“Doug,” Jim said. “If you insist on dating my daughter, find a way to get her to think before she speaks.”
“I’ve been trying to do that all morning.”
“Do it better,” Jim said. “We’ve all got a busy day ahead of us. Let’s get moving.”
Stacey watched as her father left the kitchen, and then she let out a soft laugh. “That wasn’t weird at all, in the grand scheme of things.”
“You don’t have to work with him all day.”
“Yeah, good luck with that.”
* * *
Stacey hated to admit it, but she was glad to be rid of her dad and Doug for most of the day. Her father was just making her crazy, and Doug was a distraction. Normally, she wouldn’t mind that kind of distraction, but she needed to focus on things other than the wild fantasies she wanted to act out with him. The way he was with her sexually curled her toes. Literally and figuratively. Not that she had a lot of experience. Being with him gave her a sense of comfort, but it also ignited a sense of power and sexual expression she didn’t know existed. There were no inhibitions with him. No insecurities. Only pure passion and…
She wouldn’t go that far. Not yet. They needed time. They needed this cloud to go away, and then she might be able to admit her true feelings.
She spent most of the day on the computer, looking for anything on Bill, Mary, and anyone associated with them. She called in favors with friends she had at the CIA and FBI, but came up with zero leads.
Reese had spent his day talking with anyone who would talk to him locally about Bill and Mary. Throughout the course of the day, he was vague in his texts, saying they would discuss later.
She sat at her father’s desk in his home office on the south end of the house.
The dimensions were similar to the sunroom. Stacey only knew that because it had been used as Doug’s building block for the addition. He used to go back and forth between the two rooms, measuring and making notes. He’d been like a kid on Christmas morning.
The wind kicked up a notch, rattling the sliding glass doors on the east wall. One of her favorite things about the house was the deck that wrapped from the south side and all the way across the front.
Wall to wall bookshelves lined west and south walls, only they housed no books, just family photos.
She flipped shut her laptop when Reese and Luke Cameron entered the room. Luke was an interesting character. He was approximately five foot ten with a slight build. His hair was dark and cut short, but she could tell it has a bit of a wave. Eyes bright blue. She got the impression that he’d been somewhat nerdy growing up, but that he owned his inner nerdiness. She respected that.
“Here’s what we know.” Luke didn’t waste any time. “They took articles of clothing from Bill’s house that had blood on them. They have prints, though only speculation right now that some could be Doug’s as well as Stacey’s, but no confirmation on that.”
“Where is this speculation coming from?” Stacey asked. “Other than standing across the street when Bill’s place had been broken into, I’ve never been there.”
“Just what my contacts are telling me. They also told me they think Gregory is leaking information to a couple reporters, which is why the public is gossiping about the state of Doug’s love life before, during, and after his marriage.”
“Leaking false information is going to come back and bite that dipshit in the ass,” Stacey said.
“Only time will tell,” Luke said, “but I’ve also heard rumors of hair and tissue samples taken from inside Bill’s house and the boat. Rumors that say they are close to an arrest. But they are rumors. I can’t get a line on anything about that. Only thing I could confirm was that that the blood in the boat was definitely Bill’s, based on DNA that just came in.”
Stacey put up the easel and large paper that Reese had brought, then pull
ed out chairs for everyone. “So, what is it this asshole has on Doug that we don’t know about?”
“Nothing that I have been able to find out so far,” Luke said.
“They are still referring to Bill as a person of interest,” Reese said, making notes on the paper. “But we’re not hearing any buzz about him. They’ve almost surmised he’s dead, and that they are just looking for a body, versus someone who may have killed Mary and taken off.”
“Jillian said only one news station has even brought up that possibility in the last few days,” Stacey said, wishing they had the whiteboard from the station. “So, it’s back to finding out why Gregory has such a hard-on for Doug.”
“There is another thing to look at,” Reese said. “Gregory seems to be flying solo a lot on this case. Why? He’s got a partner. So, where is he? What is he doing?”
“My guess would be that Dalton is working on finding Bill.” Stacey wished Dalton had taken point. He seemed more levelheaded than Gregory. She kept checking her cell phone for messages from Jillian, but thus far, she had nothing. That was both good and bad.
“Maybe,” Reese said. “But when we were partners, we never split up that much. It seems unusual.”
“Another thing that disturbs me,” Luke said, “is that Gregory is running on the assumption, and the keyword here is assumption, that Doug didn’t act on his own. He’s all but said, publically no less, that Stacey helped him.”
Reese locked gazes with Stacey. “But why is he showing his hand before he’s gathered enough evidence to issue a warrant for either Stacey or Doug?”
Luke had spent his day playing the devil’s advocate, acting as if Doug were guilty. Stacey knew in her heart that was a good thing, but it didn’t make this briefing any easier.
“Besides running typical background checks on you and your dad, I have it from a very good source that a couple of people have come forward and informed Gregory that Mary believed not only that you and Doug were having an affair—”
Stacey cut Luke off. “That’s old news.”
“The rumors of an affair are old news,” Luke continued, “but my source says Gregory has a source who say that they’ve seen you and Mary arguing, and that Doug had to break it up.”
“Are you referring to the bar argument, like, five months ago?”
“That one, among others,” Luke said. “My source says a few people are willing to sign statements that they heard you tell Mary to watch out, and used other threatening language.”
Stacey could barely remember the bar incident, but Doug had told her it wasn’t pretty. “Where did you get this information from?”
“A clerk at the DA’s office who said”—Luke pulled out a small notepad—“Detective Gregory had sights on a grand jury and subpoenaing Stacey before they brought Doug in.”
Stacey tried to conjure up every encounter she’d ever had with anyone in the District Attorney’s office. “On what grounds?”
“The first would be your hatred for Mary and threatening her,” Luke admitted, “and then the rescue swimmer dive.”
“That dive was by the book. Nothing there,” Stacey said. “But I might have said a few nasty things in that bar argument a few months back that might not make me look very good.”
“Like what?” Luke asked.
“I don’t remember. I’d just broken up with my boyfriend, who was screwing someone else. I was pissed. I got drunk. Doug was there. Mary was there.”
“Together?”
Stacey shook her heard. “Doug followed me because my dad was worried. Mary was there with some friends. I think Bill might have been there. She got in my face. I might have told her she wasn’t woman enough, or something, to keep a man like Doug. Could have called her the C word. Who knows, knowing my mouth. It wasn’t a shining moment.”
Luke tapped his fingers against the wooden desk. “That sounds like two bitter women. Not good, but I’ll talk to people who were at the bar.”
“Talk to Doug,” Stacey said. “He was there and sober.”
“I will,” Luke said, “after I’ve talked to everyone else. Now, let’s move on to the dive. They are going to hone in on the fact that you knew it was Bill Ludwig’s boat,” Luke said. “I would bet they are going to say you had the time to tamper with possible evidence.”
“I didn’t find the body. As soon as I knew, I surfaced. I doubt anyone on that team, or my team leader, would say I did anything suspect at all,” Stacey said. “Does anyone else feel like Gregory is grasping at straws and misleading the investigation?”
“Like you said, he’s got a hard-on for Doug,” Reese said. “We need to find out why.”
Luke looked around the room, pausing a bit longer at Stacey than she liked. “It’s not just Doug. It’s Stacey. My source said he’s calling in the dive team for interviews, and we know they will give statements as a courtesy.”
Stacey picked up her phone, then quickly texted Jared. Things were getting weird. “They’re really going to try to get to Doug by coming through me?”
“I think its worse,” Luke said. “They’re questioning your loyalty to your job versus your loyalty to your lover.”
“We know they think I could be an accomplice,” Stacey said, “but after the fact?”
Luke nodded. “We know they’re looking at evidence tampering, but the other thing they’re comparing is Stacey’s report versus the rest of the team’s report.”
Stacey texted Jillian this time. She wasn’t sure what Jillian knew or didn’t know, but she wanted to make sure Jillian was in the loop. “You have the reports, don’t you?
“No,” Luke admitted. “It’s not public, and they aren’t sharing. Not even yours.”
“I’m not worried about Prichard or the dive. I recused myself quickly, and I did everything by the book. What I am worried about is…” She paused, looking at Reese.
He finished her thought. “Perception.”
“You can’t get around the fact that people are speculating on your relationship with Doug,” Luke said. “I’m thinking we might as well flaunt it.”
“Not a good idea,” Reese said. “Not while Bill is still missing and Doug won’t go for it. He’s pissed off enough as it is. Both him and Jim are ready to blow. I didn’t think I’d have to worry about anyone other than Stacey throwing a few punches.” He held a marker in his hand, standing in front of the easel. Every few seconds, he raised his hand to write something, but then withdrew.
“I best be on my way,” Luke said. “We’ll chat tomorrow.”
She rose then opened her father’s office door.
“No need. I’ll see myself out.”
She flopped down in the chair in the corner of her father’s office. Reese still stood at the easel, marker in hand. Her father’s desk stood just to the left, overlooking the lake, holding her laptop, some paperwork, and a single picture. Stacey’s baby picture. Other than that, Jim’s desk was free of clutter. Her father had a thing against clutter.
So did she. “What are you thinking?”
Reese dropped the marker then leaned against the desk. “That you could become the prime suspect in the murder of your boyfriend’s wife.”
Chapter 9
THE DAY HAD MOSTLY been business as usual for Doug. He’d spent more than half his day hands-on, working on the Heritage Inn. He’d finished sanding the railing on the porch stairs. He had also torn down two walls and helped frame in a new lobby area in the main foyer. He spent a small portion of the day working on his laptop, developing new plans for a potential project that, while neither he nor Jim discussed it, could tank if Mary’s murder investigation escalated. They already had one perspective client push back a project.
Under normal circumstances, he didn’t think Jim would give him the cold shoulder all day. But nothing was normal anymore, and Doug knew this thing with Stacey was going too fast. He didn’t know how to slow it down. She’d become lifeline. The one thing going right in a heap of things going in the wrong direction.
<
br /> Patty, Reese’s wife, had brought out a few snacks for the crew right after the five o’clock news, along with a recap of the reports, which speculated more on Doug and Stacey’s potential romantic relationship, and what appeared to be a sordid love triangle.
The biggest blow had been the latest television interview of Gregory, who indicated they had a solid lead on the murder of Mary, and that an arrest would be made within the next few days.
Jim had cussed under his breath before heading back inside the Heritage.
Doug flipped his laptop closed after saving the current plans and emailing them to Jim, who was only fifteen feet away as he entered the main lobby.
The last of the workers packed up their things, said their good-byes, then left Doug and Jim on-site alone. Doug noticed Reese had pulled into the main residency. He checked his phone for messages or texts. Only a couple from Stacey, asking him how his day was going. As Jim made his way into the lobby where Doug was perched on a workbench, he quickly texted Stacey, saying he figured they’d be home in about forty-five minutes.
“Can we talk now?” Doug asked.
Jim stood in the middle of the main entrance, his hands on his hips, checking out the lobby and never making eye contact with Doug. “Thought you were going to take things slow with my daughter,” he said.
Doug thought about that for a long moment before he answered. “I didn’t anticipate how much she means to me.”
“What does that mean?” Jim’s tone was even, not harsh or angry, but his stare was unnerving.
“I care very much for her.” Doug met Jim’s eye. He was Stacey’s father before he was Doug’s business partner, and he deserved honesty on every level.
“I was under the impression you’d be dating, not jumping into a heavy relationship. Not to mention keeping things private.”
“They are private,” Doug said. “You heard those reports. You know what people are saying.”
Doug nodded. “But they aren’t getting that from Stacey or me.”
Jim ran his finger and thumb across his chin. “I don’t want either of you to get hurt, and this situation is screwed-up.”
