After what seemed like another eternity, he finally spoke.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.” Ainsley leaned over and risked placing her fingers against his lips. “Don’t apologize.”
With what she knew must have been reluctance, he met her gaze. “Are you okay? I didn’t hurt your ankle when I threw you down, did I?”
“I’m fine.” And they could continue to dance around what happened, let it remain the proverbial elephant in the room. But Ainsley wasn’t given to dancing. “The question is are you okay?”
His eyes slid away, and then back. “I’m fine.”
“I very much doubt that, but I’m not going to push you. I’m also not going to insult you by saying that I understand how you’re feeling, since I’ve never been in a war. But I do have some experience with PTSD. And I will say that I hope you have spoken with, or are speaking with, a professional. It isn’t the kind of thing you want to take on without any outside help.”
“You’re very direct, aren’t you?”
“To a fault. You can tell me to mind my own damn business if it makes you feel any better. Just be advised that I’ve heard that often, and have an unfortunate tendency not to listen.”
“Sweet, retiring miss that you are? I’m shocked.” The ghost of a smile quivered along his lips. Gorgeous lips, Ainsley thought. And very skilled. Under different circumstances, she might enjoy letting them wander.
Cal drew in a deep breath and pushed himself to sitting. Draping his arms over his knees, he looked around, then directed his gaze toward the front window. “A backfiring car, huh? Usually it’s the fireworks that get me, although I can prepare myself for those, given that they’re mostly scheduled.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” He shook his head, his tone emphatic. “No, I do not. But I appreciate the offer.” Then he turned his head to assess her with a look. “Your experience… related to your cousin’s murder?”
“To finding her body, primarily. And then… well, what happened afterward. With my family. I don’t know if you were aware that they suspected my stepbrother of Carly’s murder.”
“No. I’d moved away, so didn’t get all the details.”
“Well, Grant – my stepbrother – was the main suspect. Except that I’d seen Carly sneaking out of the house that night, meeting a man. A Caucasian man. Which Grant is not.”
“Ah.”
“My aunt and uncle, primarily my aunt, didn’t believe me. They thought I was making it up to protect Grant. There was a lot of ugliness, with a resultant rift in my family that’s never been repaired. This,” she sighed “this is the first time I’ve actually seen Ben in several years.”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything else. Ainsley found herself wanting, rather badly, to offer him some kind of comfort, but she sensed he didn’t want her sympathy. So instead, she sat up, and spoke briskly.
“Speaking of which, we’ll have to use your phone to call Ben. Mine is still buried in a bag of rice.”
After several moments during which Ainsley worried that Cal wasn’t quite as fine as he pretended, he finally climbed to his feet, then reached out a hand to help Ainsley to hers. He bent down to retrieve the crutches, which had been knocked to the floor when he’d tackled her.
“Let’s go out the front. If we’re going to tell him that we came inside, there’s no point in locking the door and having me risk contaminating any evidence further by crawling out the window. And I want to check on Beau.”
Ainsley had almost forgotten about the dog.
Cal moved ahead of her to open the door. When his hand was on the knob, he paused, looked back over his shoulder. “Thank you. It would have been worse if you hadn’t been here.”
Before Ainsley could respond, he pulled open the door and walked through it.
SHERIFF PAULSON divided a disbelieving look between Cal and his cousin.
“You’re telling me,” he said to Ainsley “that you called me out here to admit that you trespassed on private property. Posted private property. And you expect me to be pleased because you discovered that a few cash register buttons are missing, and have been for God only knows how long.”
“Of course I don’t expect you to be pleased,” Ainsley said from her position in the passenger side of Cal’s truck. She sat sideways, the crutches propped against the open door and Beaumont curled on her lap. “I expected you to frown and bluster and glower and threaten dire consequences, which is essentially what you’re doing. But if you’ll set aside your annoyance for a few moments, you’ll realize that the missing buttons are the least of what we discovered. There’s also that piece of broken glass in the back, and what Cal described as blood droplets on the floor. If Sabrina was here, that could explain the blood on the shoe you found in the woods.”
Ben switched his icy blue gaze to Callum. “And if that is blood on the floor, it’s been compromised by you walking all over it with your size twelve boots.”
“Thirteen,” Cal corrected, crossing his feet at the ankles as he leaned against the truck. He was still a little shaky, but disguised it with an air of insouciance that he knew would irritate Ben. “And that’s why we left by the front door rather than me locking up and going back the way I came. I didn’t want to disturb things any more than I already had, however inadvertently.”
“You entered the building. If you suspected to find evidence there, that means you knowingly risked disturbing it.”
“But suspicion isn’t certainty,” Ainsley said, drawing Ben’s attention back to her. “That’s why we didn’t call you before we came out here. I know how busy you are, and how hard you’re working to find Sabrina and keep your department functioning normally at the same time. I didn’t want to waste your time on a wild goose chase.”
Ben pinched the bridge of his nose. “I should haul you both in. I should call Tanner Cross and recommend that he file charges.”
“Do what you have to do,” Ainsley said. “But don’t discount what we found simply because you’re irritated by the way we went about it.”
He dropped his hand and stared at her. “You think I’m so petty, so full of my own consequence that I would ignore any scrap of evidence that might help me find my sister?”
“No. That’s why I told you exactly what happened instead of trying to play it off like we didn’t go inside.”
“Christ.” Ben shook his head. “I really should arrest you, just for being a pain in my ass.”
Ainsley glanced at Cal, and he cocked an eyebrow. He didn’t relish the idea of spending the rest of his day at the police station, or dealing with the bureaucratic red tape that was sure to follow, but he’d known it was a possibility when Ainsley determined they should tell the truth.
Although she hadn’t told the whole truth. She hadn’t mentioned anything about Cal’s flashback.
“Despite the no trespassing sign,” Ainsley said “the building is obviously abandoned. The owner therefore has no legitimate expectation of privacy, which means that you are free to search it without a warrant. In case you were thinking about getting one. Just telling you that even from the angle of a defense attorney,” she added when Ben merely stared at her “that you’re probably in the clear.”
“Gee, thanks,” Ben said, before pulling out his phone and stepping away to place a call.
Cal’s hearing was impeccable, so he shamelessly eavesdropped, listening with interest as the other man told someone to stop by the hotel and check the rooms to see if any of them matched the photo on someone named Cooper’s computer.
Cooper. Cal’s brows drew together as he connected some mental dots. If he wasn’t mistaken, Cooper was the name of the night manager of the hotel – really more appropriately called an inn, in Cal’s opinion – above the gallery.
Curiosity assailed him, but he kept his expression bland until Ben ended the call and then strode back toward the truck.
“You,” he pointed to Ainsley “stay here. I would suggest that
you rest your ankle across the seat while you’re at it, but I don’t expect you’ll listen to me any more than you did the doctor. You.” He nodded at Cal. “Come with me. Show me exactly how and where you entered the building.”
Cal was surprised that Ben hadn’t ordered him to stay as well, but he simply nodded his acquiescence. “Okay.” He glanced at the dog, saw he was still sleeping – which probably meant that he would be up all night – and then addressed himself to Ainsley. “Put your ankle up.”
With that he set off with Ben around the corner of the building.
“Shit,” Ben said when he saw the kudzu. “It looks like something out of Jurassic Park.”
“Stand really still,” Cal suggested “and it might not be able to see you.”
Ben slanted him a look. “I see you’re still as big of a wiseass as you were in high school.”
“Bigger,” Cal assured him. Then he gestured with his hand. “There’s a path of sorts over here.” He led the way, and Ben followed, examining the ground as they went.
“No hope for footprints here.”
“The vegetation is too thick,” Cal agreed, stepping over a fallen log. The tree had only narrowly avoided hitting the building. They rounded the back corner, and Cal gestured to the second window. “There.”
Ben frowned. “It’s pretty high off the ground.”
“I boosted myself up. But yeah,” he said, suddenly seeing what Ben was saying. Cal was a couple inches over six feet, but Sabrina was considerably shorter. “It might be a little too high for Sabrina to have climbed through herself.”
“Unless she wasn’t by herself,” Ben muttered. And then he glanced at Cal. “Or she wasn’t here, and this is a wild goose chase after all.”
“You’ll have to be the judge of that. Or the evidence will, at any rate. Should be easy enough to determine if that’s her blood. And the cash register was moved. Unless she was wearing gloves, she’s bound to have left fingerprints.”
“If she’s the one who moved it.”
“Lots of ifs,” Cal agreed. “But then that’s why we called you. You’re the one who can analyze the ifs, see if you find any definites.”
Ben stared at him a moment. “You’ve gone out of your way to keep a low profile since you moved back here. And don’t try to deny it, because I’ve kept an eye out, believe me.”
The accusation – and what lie behind it – crawled along Cal’s skin. If he’d had any doubts that Ben had checked up on him, he did no longer. Not that he was surprised, given the man’s job, but the fact still grated. However, he held his tongue.
After all, Cal could admit that at one point he’d borne watching.
“Aside from coming in to work at your gallery, I’ve hardly seen you around town. You could have simply called an ambulance for Ainsley today if you felt she was unable to drive herself to the ER. So I can’t help wondering: Why are you involving yourself in this?”
It was a fair question, Cal guessed. He wasn’t sure whether Ben asked it because he still had suspicions about him and Sabrina, because the culprits in many crimes tended to interject themselves into investigations, or for other reasons. Regardless, he figured he owed the man an answer. The problem though, was that he wasn’t entirely sure.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I always regretted how I treated Carly. Not badly, just carelessly. I regretted making an enemy of you. We not only played football together, but I looked up to you, even though you were only a year older. I was an ass, and I’m finally mature enough to admit it. I like Sabrina. It makes me sick to think of something happening to her, for her own sake as well as your family’s. And I’m almost painfully attracted to your cousin.”
Ben’s eyebrows shot up. Cal could tell that he was surprised by the succession of admissions, and quite frankly Cal was a little surprised himself. He hadn’t really analyzed his feelings, but everything he said had the ring of truth. Odd to have it burble up like that, like an underground spring that had finally found a fissure in the ground and could make its way to the surface. Cal blamed the fact that he still hadn’t entirely regained his equilibrium from that flashback.
“I guess that about covers it,” Ben said. “My only argument is with your choice of tense, as I’m pretty sure you’re still an ass.”
“Undoubtedly, but I already acknowledged that.”
They stood staring at each other a moment or two longer and then Ben looked back at the window. “That broken glass. Am I in danger of cutting my hands?”
“The frame seems to be clear. It’s all on the floor inside.”
Ben nodded, and then hauled himself up, swinging one leg over the ledge and then stepping carefully inside. When he was through, he nodded to Cal. “Come on, then.”
Cal followed after.
Once they were inside, the small room seeming even more cramped with both of them in it, he pointed out the piece of glass he’d noticed earlier as well as the blood on the floor. Ben pulled a flashlight out of his pocket, squatted down to examine both. He then shone the light around the interior of the closet – for that was essentially what it was – before glancing up at Callum.
“Good eye.”
“I know blood when I see it.”
Ben frowned, and then slowly nodded. “I’m sure you do.”
Drawing latex gloves from his pocket, he bagged the glass and used chalk to mark the bloodstain on the floor. Then he tilted his head, reached for one of the BBs.
“Looks like some kids have been hanging out here,” Cal said “using the chicken coop back there for target practice.”
“Yeah. Shit. I’ll get someone out here with a forensics kit.” Ben stood back up. “And then I’m going to make sure Tanner Cross gets some plywood on these windows. Show me the cash register.”
Cal led him through the doorway into the main body of the store, taking a shortcut to the cash register since he didn’t have to cross the room to open the front door this time. “Wait,” Ben said, shining his flashlight on the floor beneath the table beside Cal. Cal turned, noticed the wadded piece of paper – no, napkin. There was a wadded napkin on the floor.
Ben bent down to retrieve it. It appeared to be covered in blood.
“I didn’t come this way before,” Cal said. “I had to go the opposite direction and open the door for Ainsley.”
Ben said nothing. He carefully opened the stiffened napkin, until Cal could just make out that there was a bit of writing across the top. Most of it was obscured by the dried blood, but Cal thought he recognized it.
“It’s from the Cajun restaurant by the gallery,” Ben said, confirming Cal’s suspicion.
Cal felt oddly subdued by this further piece of evidence, although why, he couldn’t explain. After all, they’d come here hoping to find some sort of sign that Sabrina had been here.
“Sabrina’s always running in there for their chicory coffee,” he told Ben. “She keeps a stash of those cocktail napkins at the front desk.”
Ben nodded, and put the napkin in another evidence bag which he withdrew from the depths of one of his pockets. “There were a few in her car also.”
The other man’s voice was oddly flat, and Cal guessed that if he was feeling subdued, Ben’s emotions were probably all over the place. Cal wanted to ask what else they’d found, what other leads they were pursuing, but he doubted Ben would tell him. Hell, he didn’t seem to be telling Ainsley much of anything, and she was his cousin. Cal thought that was standard operating procedure for things like murder investigations, but he wasn’t sure it made as much sense for a missing persons case.
Unless Ben suspected this was more than that. Which, given the evidence Cal knew about, didn’t seem like an unreasonable suspicion. Aside from Sabrina’s abandoned car and the bloody shoe in the forest, the missing journals from his shed really sent up a red flag.
And Cal couldn’t help feeling like he’d inadvertently set this chain of events in motion.
“Ther
e’s more blood here, too,” Cal pointed to a spattering of drops near where Ben had picked up the napkin.
“Yeah, I noticed.” Ben once again squatted down and did the outline thing with the chalk. Cal guessed it was so he would remember where they were, but he couldn’t see the other man forgetting.
“The cash register is over here,” he said when Ben stood back up. He wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. The flashbacks were infrequent now, thank God, and he’d mostly learned how to cope with them, but they still left him feeling hollowed out. He wanted a cup of coffee and his workshop.
Well, he wanted a whiskey and his workshop, but he also wanted to keep all his fingers. Alcohol and carpentry did not mix.
Cal stood back while Ben approached the machine, inspecting it. Then with his gloved hands, he shifted it slightly.
“Shit that’s heavy.”
“Might be why no one has pilfered it from here before. Kind of hard to carry that thing out through the back window.”
“If someone wanted it badly enough, they’d just waltz out the front door. It’s not like there are a bunch of neighbors nearby to stop them.”
“True. I guess I just assume thieves and miscreants would aim for stealth.”
“Lesson number one in law enforcement: don’t expect people to behave logically or with common sense. Particularly not when they’re drunk, pissed off or in a pack.”
“So noted.”
Ben carefully lowered the cash register back into position, and then wiped his hands on his pants as he stood up. Then he just stood there, staring at it.
Cal couldn’t be sure, but if he had to guess he would bet that Ben was considering the fact that the antique machine might have been too heavy for Sabrina to move by herself. Which gave further credence to the idea that she hadn’t come here alone.
Which really didn’t bode well for the reason for her disappearance.
The Southern Comfort Prequel Trilogy Box Set Page 42
