Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1

by Lisa Phillips

  Her eyebrows drew together. “So just because Harriett said I did it, I’m considered a suspect?”

  “It’s a process of elimination.” And it couldn’t be affected by his personal opinion. However he was starting to feel about Andra, he had to be impartial or he would be doing a poor job.

  “But I am a suspect.”

  “Right now basically everyone is a suspect.” He smiled. “Except me and Pat.”

  Andra slid her chair closer to the mic. Why did she have to be like that? It wasn’t like he was arresting her. John was only trying to do the job he’d been hired to do. It was nothing personal.

  “Wouldn’t you rather I ruled you out first?”

  “Fine.”

  “You’ll come in?”

  “Yes.” She slid over, loaded a new 8-track tape and ejected the one above it, pressed two buttons and listened while the song changed to a new one.

  “Do you think Hal would let me make an announcement? I’d like to ask anyone who has any information about Betty Collins’ death to come to the sheriff’s office and talk to us.”

  Andra pointed at the other chair. John didn’t know if that meant yes or no.

  He sat anyway. “So…did it take you long to learn how to do all this?”

  She glanced at him with one raised eyebrow.

  Guess not.

  “Hal should request some new equipment. This stuff is a little…dated. They probably just do it all on computers now, don’t you think?”

  “You’re assuming Hal has the money to pay for new equipment.”

  “Don’t you just request it from the marshals?”

  “Everything has to be ordered and paid for by the purchaser.”

  “Everything?”

  She nodded. “It’s a moot point since Hal swears up and down 8-tracks sound better than anything else. Although, I’m not sure he’s actually ever listened to a CD in his life so it’s hard to tell. He’s been here since seventy-two. Did you know he was a tunnel rat in Vietnam?”

  John shook his head. The song ended and Andra glanced at him. “Ready?”

  “For what?”

  “To make your announcement.” She clicked two buttons, slid a dial up the board and moved the mic toward him.

  He swallowed. “Good evening. This is Sheriff John Mason. If you have any information regarding the tragic death of Betty Collins, please contact the sheriff’s department. Your assistance could enable us to bring the killer to justice.”

  Andra winced. She pressed more buttons and a song started. What was wrong with what he said?

  The phone rang. Two buttons lit up on the base…three, and then a fourth. Andra hit a button on the telephone’s keypad and a voice came through the speakers mounted to the wall. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

  Andra folded her arms so John said, “This is Sheriff John Mason. Do you have information about the death of Betty Collins?”

  “I want to know when you’re going to arrest Andra Caleri,” a gravel-voiced woman said. “Everyone knows she done it. Everyone. How come she isn’t in jail?”

  “Ms. Caleri is afforded the same rights as every citizen living in this town.”

  “Rights-shmights. She done it. She’s the killer.”

  John didn’t look at Andra. “Whether she is or not, evidence must be obtained before an arrest warrant can be granted. And I don’t think—”

  The caller hung up.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t.” Andra shook her head. “I don’t care what they think. I didn’t kill Betty Collins.”

  John didn’t think she had either, although he didn’t know why he felt it so strongly. There just didn’t seem to be any reason why she would have. Andra was nothing if not content with the life she’d made in her cabin. And apparently helping out Hal. He wondered who else in town was the recipient of her time and energy and they didn’t even know it. But he couldn’t say that, because it would be showing bias to her when she was as much a suspect as anyone else.

  He couldn’t even tell her he didn’t think she was the killer.

  “You want to take more calls?”

  John looked at the lights beside Line 2, Line 3 and Line 4. “Not really.” Andra smiled and her cheeks flushed pink. “How long are you here for?”

  “Hal shuts down around two a.m. usually. I have a while left and then I’ll lock up and drop the key in the hide-a-slot.”

  John glanced at the shelves of tapes. “Can you play whatever you want?”

  “Uh, no.” She lifted a paper he hadn’t seen yet. A hand-written list. “Hal plays what Hal wants to play.”

  “Even when Hal isn’t here?”

  Andra nodded; her eyes bright with humor. “I don’t mind. It’s his radio station and it’s not my thing.”

  “Then why do you help out?”

  She shrugged but John thought there might be more, so he waited. Sure enough, she said, “There was a bunch of extra supplies left over when he built this place. I bartered for lumber and use of his tools. I figure I’ll be about done paying him back in…oh, fifteen years or so.”

  John laughed. “Doesn’t sound like it was a good deal.”

  “It built my house.”

  “You built your cabin?”

  Andra shifted in her chair. “It beat the lean-to I was living in before. Especially when it snowed.” She fingered the edge of her sweater. “Hal was out walking. He’d had a fight with his lady-friend and he was blowing off steam. He found me halfway passed out with the flu and carried me to town. To his house.

  “It nearly scared me to death, waking up in a strange man’s bed. I screamed so loud Hal dropped the tray of soup he was bringing in. We talked. He won me over but I persuaded him to take a trade for the materials and he helped me build the cabin.”

  She didn’t look at him. John wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to study her on one of the rare occasions she was opening up.

  He cleared his throat, wanting to share his story in return. If she was ever going to trust him, it was a good place to start. “I was married. Pat’s mom…she’s a lawyer. I’d like to say it worked in the beginning but that’s probably not true. We just ignored the friction because she was having Pat. I think she was relieved when I started going undercover. The assignments got longer and longer and then home wasn’t home anymore. Pat had started going to school. One of those private places that costs a whack.”

  He took a breath. “She wanted out. I wasn’t going to fight it so long as my son knew who I was, knew I loved him.”

  “And now?”

  “She has her life and I got the better end of the deal. Pat with me full time for the first time in…I don’t even know. Years.”

  Andra gave him a small smile. “He’s a great kid.”

  “He is.” John glanced down. The lights on the phone were dark, but he’d probably have a crowd in the office tomorrow. Hopefully something would pan out into a lead. “How about you? Have you ever been married?”

  Andra swallowed. “Once.”

  “Didn’t last?”

  “Uh…no.” She hesitated. “It’s complicated. And a long story.”

  “I’ve got time.”

  Andra’s body stilled. She looked up at the corner where the wall met the ceiling. “His name was Drew.”

  John barked out a laugh. The guy’s name was Drew? Andra’s wide eyes met his. “Uh, sorry.” He coughed. “Excuse me.”

  She didn’t smile. “He was nice…ish.”

  What did that mean? “How long did it last?”

  “A few months.” She reached for the tapes, switched out two for new ones and pressed play. “I can’t really talk about this. I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, it’s okay if it’s too painful.”

  Andra looked like she’d slapped him. “Right. It was a tough time. And it’s late so you probably won’t want to be away from Pat for very long.”

  “You’re right. I don’t really know what the rules are for kids and being alone.”


  “I’m not the person to ask.”

  “No worries.” She was shutting him down again. After he thought they were getting somewhere. “I’ll find out.”

  Her eyes widened. “I’m sure you will.”

  She wasn’t talking about Pat. John waited; he couldn’t just leave like this. There was more to what was between them than brief periods of sharing followed by awkwardness. He must be rusty.

  Andra held his gaze. “Sooner or later you’re going to figure it all out.”

  Chapter 13

  Andra watched him leave. His footsteps echoed down the hall and the front door shut. Andra blew out a breath and twisted around in the chair. After a few seconds, the bathroom door inched open.

  Nadia Marie stepped out, hands up. “Okay…okay…hold on.” She laughed. “What. Was. That?”

  Andra couldn’t help it, she chuckled. “I have no idea.”

  John showing up was the last thing she’d expected tonight. The fact he stayed and chatted was even more bizarre. The man thought she might have killed Betty Collins. Probably he was getting a feel for her to see if she was the homicidal type.

  Little did he know.

  Nadia’s head tipped back and she laughed, full out. She stumbled over and practically fell into the chair. It barely dipped, since she weighed about a hundred pounds even though she was easily five-eight. Andra had more curves, despite the fact Nadia forced her to hike around the mountains for days with only protein bars and bananas.

  The woman was a nut but she made it so Andra wasn’t so lonely.

  “You can stop laughing now.”

  “No way.” Nadia sucked in a breath. “That man has a crush on you. I’m not lying. He does. He might not want to be but he’s totally into you.”

  And that was funny? Why wouldn’t John want to be attracted to her? There wasn’t anything wrong with that.

  “So?”

  Nadia’s lips twitched…and then she started laughing again. “So? That’s priceless.” She wiped a tear away. “That’s the most hilarious thing I’ve heard in weeks.”

  “He thinks I’m a murderer.”

  “Trust me, that man is hedging all his bets on the fact you didn’t do it. Otherwise, why did he stay and tell you about his wife. And why did you talk about Drew? You like the sheriff.” She ended on a sing-song voice.

  Andra rolled her eyes.

  “You do.” She gasped. “You do like him.”

  “I do not.”

  “It’s not a crime, you know.”

  Andra sighed. “Finally, something I’m good at that isn’t.”

  “You’re allowed to have a relationship. You can be happy. And not just all alone in your cabin. You haven’t been excluded from falling in love.” Nadia shoved her shoulder. She should do some strength training if that was all she had.

  Andra folded her arms. “I have nothing in common with Sheriff John Mason. There’s no point in even considering a relationship with a cop. A cop who has a son. There’s no way it would work.”

  Nadia pouted. “Why do you have to be so reasonable? Thinking things through all the time. What’s up with that? Dream a little for once, will you?”

  “You know why it’s impossible.” Andra changed out the tapes and started a new track. She lifted her coffee cup but it was cold.

  “Because of the job thing…or because of the other thing?”

  “Honestly? Both.”

  “Why would John care that you had a child? It was a long time ago and you gave her up for adoption.” Nadia paused. “Do you think he cares about your past enough it’s going to make him turn away?”

  Andra pulled at the side of her jacket, hung on the back of the chair, and got the envelope from the pocket. It was the mail she’d received just that morning. She handed it to the only person in town who knew Andra had delivered a baby girl weeks before she arrived in Sanctuary. It was one of the biggest reasons she’d wanted out of her former life. A serious wake-up call she never would have chosen for herself. But it brought her to where she needed to be, even while Helena was where she needed to be.

  Nadia’s face sobered. She pulled the photos from the envelope and flipped through them fast, then again much slower. When she looked up, her brown eyes were big and wide, full of all the emotion Andra was feeling but would never talk about. “She’s beautiful.”

  Andra thought so too. That was mercy; that Helena looked like her and not like Drew. And more mercy, that the adoptive parents willingly sent pictures—not often, but enough. Andra couldn’t ask for more.

  Nadia tilted one picture so Andra could see it. A birthday party. “How old is she?”

  “Eleven.” Andra swallowed.

  The crying sound came from Nadia.

  Andra smiled. “You’re such a softie.”

  “I feel like a proud auntie and I’ve never even met her.” Nadia sucked in a breath and sobbed.

  “I’ve never met her either.”

  Nadia’s head came up.

  “As soon as I gave birth they took her away.” Nadia looked ready to explode, so Andra said, “I told them to. I knew if I held her I wouldn’t be able to let her go.”

  “Why did you?”

  Andra turned away. She didn’t need recriminations, not from Nadia of all people. But that was her way. Nadia said what she was thinking. It wasn’t always kind but there was no pretense, which to Andra’s life of silence and lies was like fresh water.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just…why didn’t you bring her here? You would be a great mom.”

  Andra took a breath. “I wasn’t in a good place. I needed Helena to have a better life than the one I could give her. Petros and Anya give her that. Two parents who love her and love the Lord. I couldn’t give her that. Not back then and not when I came here.”

  Nadia tucked the pictures back in the envelope. There was no letter. But when you received a gift that rich, there was no need for words.

  Andra tucked it back in her jacket.

  “He seriously likes you.” Nadia was good at a lot of things. One of which was deflecting Andra from the swirling drain of her life before Sanctuary.

  Andra grinned, even though she didn’t feel it. “What about you? You went into the lion’s lair on Battle Night. Any chance encounters with a certain someone?”

  Nadia stilled, which meant trouble since the woman was pure energy. “Uh…I got the flag.”

  “Yeah, there’s not a story there.” Andra turned her chair toward her friend. “Spill, woman.”

  “I told you, I got the flag.”

  “What about Bolton Farrera? He must have been there, guarding it with his boys.”

  Nadia chewed her lip. “He…uh…might have caught me.”

  “No! Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “Because it’s embarrassing. He got me in like two seconds even with the distraction you showed me. It’s like he knew. He must be trained in that stuff. Maybe he’s secretly some kind of superhero, but it all went wrong and he had to hide his identity here. That’s probably it. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about Mr. Tall, Dark and…what was your name again?”

  Andra groaned. “Tell me Bolton didn’t say that to you.”

  “So embarrassing. Ugh, whatever. I’ve decided it’s my lot in life to be tragically attracted to men who don’t even know I’m alive. And also men who steal fabulous paintings, sell reproductions and then try and blame it on moi so those two snooty French guys try to kill me instead.”

  “Sorry.”

  Nadia shrugged. “I’m over it. Ancient history. I like my life, cutting the same hairstyles week-in and year-out and getting crappy tips. It’s the high life. Excuse me while I go drown my sorrows by listening to Kelly Clarkson and eating a giant bag of peanut butter cups.”

  “You’ll find someone. You’re gorgeous, you have a fabulous smile.”

  “Now I know you’re lying. Next to you, I’m totally the plain one.”

  “No way, you look like a young Jamie Lee Curtis.”

&nbs
p; “Actually, I heard they’re getting Sandra Bullock to play me in the TV movie detailing the tragic story of my life and the downfall of an international ring of art thieves. But seriously, other than making a great Princess Leia for Halloween, exactly what good does that do me?”

  Andra smiled. “Maybe Bolton will dress up as Han Solo.”

  “I’d like to see that.” Nadia’s lips twitched. “I’d actually pay money to see that.”

  “There you go.”

  “I’d still kill to have your exotic, Spanish coloring.”

  Andra chuckled. “My mom was from Nebraska.”

  “Seriously, how did I not know this?”

  “Maybe because I haven’t told you.” She hadn’t told anyone. “How do you think I’m American? Anyway, I’m serious. Miss Nebraska, 1972.”

  “No way. How do you know that?”

  How did she think Andra knew that? “The internet.”

  “Oh. Right. How did she meet your dad? Isn’t he Spanish?”

  “Yep. She became an actress and my dad was a movie producer. I figured they met through a work thing, but I never could work out how. I only found pictures of them together, in magazines. They had me and then dropped me at boarding school in Barcelona when I was five. I don’t really remember them, but I remember the nanny. She smelled like lavender.”

  “Where are they now?”

  Andra swallowed.

  “You know?”

  “They have a pied-a-terre in Paris and a summer home in Palm Springs. It’s busy being rich. Not a lot of time to be social with your only daughter.”

  “Wow.”

  “I saw my dad once. I was twenty-one.”

  “No way.” Nadia’s mouth dropped open. “You met him?”

  “No. It was a big party and I was across the room. He had on this expensive suit. His hair was slicked back and he had all these rings. Fit, you know, like he hired a personal trainer. I just saw him for a second. I was…uh…working. And I don’t know what I would have said. Hi, I’m the daughter you abandoned and forgot about. How do you like how I turned out?”

  Nadia closed her mouth. Probably because she knew exactly who Andra had been in those days. It wasn’t something even an estranged parent was going to be proud of.