by Alison Stone
His father, the retired sheriff, certainly wouldn’t approve. He dismissed the thought. Conner was his own man. He’d deal with whatever fallout came his way. He had to follow all the leads on this investigation. And Bradley Poissant, Jason’s friend, was one of those leads.
Conner adjusted his wipers again. “It’s snowing a lot harder than when we left the house. We better not waste time here or we might not make it back home.” His four-wheel-drive truck was good in snow, but even it had limitations, especially in snow that was coming down at a clip of three inches per hour. “The house is right here.”
A quaint yellow house came into view. It had a wide porch now coated with a fresh layer of snow. Conner debated pulling up the driveway, then second guessed himself. The street plows had left a large pile of snow chunks at the end of the driveway that he’d never get through. Apparently the mayor didn’t ask the crews to give him any special treatment. The mayor was a pretty stand-up guy, which was why checking in with his son when he wasn’t home felt a little underhanded.
The tires brushed against the snow piled on the side of the road. He pulled away from the curb to give Grace room to hop out.
Conner put the truck in Park and turned to her. “Okay, if you recognize him at all from the gas station, brush the back of my hand.”
“I only saw his profile.” She seemed to be searching her memory. “Let’s do this. If I think it’s him, I’ll touch your hand.”
“I’ll do the talking. See where we get.”
“Are you going to give me this same drill every time we talk to someone?” Grace smiled at him, and he couldn’t resist smiling in return.
“Sorry, can’t help myself.”
Grace followed the path Conner created through the foot of snow. A two-foot drift was gathered alongside a car parked in the driveway. He reached back and took Grace’s hand to steady her. “You good?”
She nodded and mumbled something that was muffled by the scarf wrapped across the bottom of her face.
The newly fallen snow made the house seem empty. Still. Maybe no one was home. That theory was quickly dismissed when a pounding sound came from inside, like someone racing down the stairs. Had Bradley seen them walking up the driveway?
Conner fisted his gloved hand and pounded on the door. A shadow slowed behind the smoky glass insert on the front door. “You expecting someone?” a female voice shouted from inside. Conner and Grace exchanged glances.
“Do we have the right house?” Grace whispered.
“Yes.” Conner raised his eyebrows. Bradley was an only child. “Looks like while the parents are away, the kids will play.”
“But it’s a snow day.”
“You grew up in Buffalo. A snow day means no school. It doesn’t mean kids aren’t going to find a way to hang out, especially if they live near each other.”
Grace frowned. “Snow days were meant for curling up in bed with a good book.”
“Different strokes, I suppose.” He lifted his hand to knock again, and the door swung open. A young girl with long blond hair answered the door with a surprised look on her face.
“Is Bradley home?” Conner asked, holding the storm door open.
“Yeah, we’re hanging out. Watching movies. Can I tell him who’s here?” Score one for the teenager. She didn’t allow a stranger into the house.
“Who’s there?” Bradley appeared in the kitchen, visible at the end of the hallway. He wore sweatpants and a T-shirt with a few small holes in it. Recognition lit his face and he strode toward them. “Hey, Captain Gates, how are you?” An eyebrow twitched. “Is something wrong?” The young man tried to look out the door beyond Conner and Grace. His attention slipped right past Grace.
Probably a good indicator that he didn’t have it out for her.
“Hi, Bradley. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
“Yeah, sure.” Bradley stepped away from the door, giving them room to enter. He placed a hand on the young woman’s shoulder. “This is my girlfriend, Suze.”
“Nice to meet you,” Conner said. “I’m Captain Gates, a friend of the family. And this is a friend of mine, Miss Miller.”
“Nice to meet you, too,” Suze said, smiling warmly at Grace.
“Have you met Miss Miller?” Conner asked Bradley, scrutinizing the young man’s reaction.
Bradley’s mouth grew pinched. “I don’t think so.” He offered his hand and Grace took it. She didn’t seem to be registering any concern that she recognized him from the hit-and-run at the gas station.
Suze pointed at Conner casually. “You’re the officer that’s related to Jason Klein. I remember you from the bonfire.”
Conner tapped his fingers on his thigh. “Jason was my cousin’s son.”
“Real sorry about his death. He was a nice kid.”
“Thank you. Suze, were you also at the party the night Jason died?”
“No.” She shook her head for emphasis. “My parents wouldn’t let me go.”
Good parents.
“Bradley was there.” She linked hands with her boyfriend and rested her head on his shoulder. “He feels so bad. Right, Bradley?”
“Yeah, if I had known he was wasted, I would have stopped him from driving.”
“You didn’t see Jason drinking a lot the night of the accident? Or taking pills?”
“Everyone was drinking. Some were taking drugs. I avoid that stuff.” Bradley dragged his toe along the seam between two oak floorboards.
“Did you guys want to come in?” Suze asked, her gaze drifting from the visitors to her boyfriend and back.
“We’re not going to stay long. It’s really coming down out there. I just wanted to get a few more details straight about the night of Jason’s accident.”
“I told you everything already.” Bradley scrubbed his hand across his face.
“I need some clarification. I’ve heard recent stories that Jason wasn’t much of a drinker, and that he definitely didn’t do drugs. In hindsight, him being wasted doesn’t make a lot of sense.”
“We all make mistakes.” Bradley held out his free hand toward Conner. “Like that night at the bonfire. Boy, was I stupid.” Bradley put on what Conner suspected was his best oh-golly tone. Why hadn’t Conner noticed it before? “I’m happy to put the partying phase behind me.”
“I hear you were on a college visit yesterday. Have you decided where you’re going?”
If Conner hadn’t glanced down at that exact moment, he might have missed Bradley giving his girlfriend’s hand a quick squeeze.
What’s that all about?
“I haven’t made a decision. Not yet, anyway.”
“It’s a big decision. I’m sure you’ll make the right one.” Conner unzipped his jacket. “I have a theory, and I wanted your take on it.”
“Oh yeah?” Bradley jutted out his lower lip and blew his bangs from his forehead.
“Since I heard rumblings that Jason hadn’t been drinking, what if someone spiked his drink the night he died?”
“That’s your theory?” Bradley frowned, giving it some thought. “That might explain why he was messed up.”
“You know anything about it?”
Bradley’s eyes grew round, as if he were shocked. Conner quickly held up his hands to reassure the young man. “I’m not suggesting you had anything to do with it. But perhaps you’ve heard talk.”
“No way. I can’t believe someone would do that.”
“It’s hard to believe,” Conner agreed. “Well, if you hear anything, you know where to reach me.”
“Sure do.” Bradley dropped his girlfriend’s hand, crossed his arms and smiled tightly.
“We’ll see ourselves out.” Conner opened the door and Grace slipped in front of him.
Bradley retreated into the kitchen while Suze was too polite not to see them out. Just before th
ey stepped outside, Suze asked in a hushed voice, “Did they ever find out what Jason was on the night he died?”
Conner debated giving her a straight answer. “Yeah, he had a mixture of prescription drugs in his system.” He listed a few of the brand names. “Do you know anything about that?”
“No,” Suze said a bit too emphatically. The rims of her eyes grew red. “I was curious, that’s all.”
“Okay, then,” Conner said. “Have a good day. Stay warm.”
Grace paused and reached into her pocket. She smiled at Suze. “I’m writing a story on how the Amish and local teens hang out with each other despite their very different lifestyles. If you’d like to be part of it, let me know.” She pressed her business card into her hand. Suze seemed confused, but took the card and slipped it into her back pocket before closing the door.
Conner and Grace bowed their heads, bracing against the wind. When they were back inside the truck, Grace turned to Conner. “Did you see that? Suze looked concerned. Like maybe she wanted to say something more, but couldn’t.”
“I thought the same thing. Smart move on giving her your business card. Maybe she’ll feel more comfortable calling you rather than the sheriff’s department. Less threatening, maybe.”
Grace plucked off her gloves. “Do you think we should have pressed her more before we left?”
Conner shook his head. “If she talks, it’ll be when Bradley’s out of earshot.” He started the engine and turned on the wipers. The blades swept off the light dusting of snow. “We’ll have to wait and see if our little visit pays off.”
* * *
Retired sheriff Harry Gates lifted the glass coffee pot out of the automatic coffee maker and set out two mugs. Grace drew in a deep breath, the smell of strong coffee filling her senses. Despite not being much of a coffee girl, Grace felt nostalgic when it came to the scent. Her dad had been a big coffee drinker.
“Have a seat.” Harry carried the two mugs over to the small table next to a window overlooking the driveway. “Nice of you guys to stop by. It’s really blowing out there.” Outside the window, Conner had powered up the snowblower and was slicing a path down the driveway, the snow shooting up in an arc and the wind blowing it back into Conner’s face. Grace shuddered.
“Not much of a hardship for me.” Smiling, she lifted the mug to her lips and took a small sip. “I’m sitting in the cozy, warm kitchen with you.”
“My pleasure.” Harry smiled. “Have you made any progress in your investigation?”
“Which one?” Grace tried to read the older gentleman to determine if he was still upset she was a writer, considering the trouble he’d had with the reporter from the Quail Hollow Gazette.
“Ah, you couldn’t resist following up on both stories. Any new leads?”
“A few things. But it’s been tough. I’m persona non grata around here.”
“I may be retired, but I still hear things.” Harry set his spoon down, and a brown stain spread across the napkin. “Regardless of my feelings for reporters, there’s no excuse for what’s been happening to you. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. I think someone is trying to scare me away.” She bit her tongue before saying more. She imagined the retired sheriff was also friends with the mayor.
“Did you ever ask yourself why they’re trying to scare you?”
Grace angled her head in confusion. “Because I’m looking into the night of Jason’s death, and someone doesn’t want me to find out what really happened.”
Harry lifted his mug to his lips and took a long sip. Above the mug, his eyes drifted to the weather outside. He seemed lost in thought. “That’s one reason.” He put the mug down and redirected his gaze toward her. “You’re an easier target than, say, someone in law enforcement. However, either way, they’re only attracting more attention to themselves.”
“Criminals aren’t always rational thinkers.” She and Conner had had a similar conversation.
“True.” Harry scratched the top of his head. “It seems they want to stop you before you uncover the truth. How many years has it been since your mother’s murder? That’s a deeply buried secret. I wonder if maybe you’ve stumbled upon something in your mother’s case?”
If she had found something of value in that case, it had eluded her. “I believe I’m drawing attention because of Jason’s death.”
“I don’t know.”
“Really? What if the harassment is related to my mother’s murder?” She studied the retired sheriff’s face. “That would mean someone who was involved way back then is still around.” Nerves tangled in her belly. “What’s the likelihood?” She shook her head, the absurdity of the thought settling in. “No, it has to be related to the night Jason died.”
Harry tapped the handle of his mug. “You’re probably right. Kevin and I have been rehashing the case of late. We’re still coming up blank.” His eyes slanted in a thoughtful gesture, and Grace realized for the first time how much Conner resembled his father.
Grace took another sip of coffee, then set her mug down. “Nothing much to report. I did hear something strange, though.” She took a deep breath, measuring her words, then smiled, feeling a little embarrassed to keep bringing up a nearly three-decades-old case. “When you were investigating my mother’s death, did you uncover anything about former boyfriends?”
The retired sheriff’s forehead furrowed. “Can’t say that we did.” He took another sip of coffee. “From what I gathered, your mother married your father when she was eighteen. I’m sure she had her usual running-around period. Most Amish do. By all accounts, she didn’t waste time getting baptized and married to your father. No other Amish suspects came under our radar. Why? What did you hear?”
Grace’s mouth went dry. She struggled to find her voice. Could she ask if her mother had considered leaving the Amish with an outsider? It felt too much like a betrayal of her mother’s memory.
Grace ran her fingers across the edge of the table, realizing she was making this personal. This was a story and a good one at that.
But how can I not make this personal?
“I was wondering if someone who wasn’t Amish showed a special interest in my mother.”
Harry got a faraway look in his eyes. “Your mother was beautiful.” A blush of pink infused his cheeks. “If you don’t mind me saying so. However, I had never heard anything about her dating an Englischer.” He rubbed a hand across his jaw, rough with stubble. “No one mentioned anything like that.” He met her gaze. “If I were you, I wouldn’t be wasting time on that theory. Your mother was a good Amish woman. No one ever said otherwise.”
Grace nodded her agreement, unwilling to call into question her mother’s character. That certainly wouldn’t help the investigation.
Inwardly, Grace tried to shed the growing confusion that tracking this story had caused. Thinking she could do a story in Quail Hollow had been her first mistake. Believing she could be impartial had been her second.
“I haven’t been able to find any real new information on my mother’s murder. Maybe it was a silly idea to try to write a story on it. Perhaps I’ll focus on the original story.” She smiled. “But, happily, I got to know the Hershberger family. Maryann knew my mom.”
“Maryann was quiet. It was hard to get any information out of the Amish. Your mother’s death really impacted the community.”
“They can be quiet.” Grace dragged a hand through her hair. “The Hershberger family seems to be warming up to me. Maryann’s daughter Emma is going to start working at the bed & breakfast.”
“That’s great.” He leaned toward her. “I really like you, Grace. You might just change my opinion about your profession after all.”
His comment caught Grace off guard and she laughed. “Was that almost a compliment?”
“Maybe it was. But I hope you remember that there are people behind your stories. Na
mely, Jason Klein and his grieving mother.”
“I’ll do my best to respect that.” Her mind drifted to Conner’s request that she hold off on posting updates online because of their impact on Jason’s mom.
Harry smiled tightly as if he doubted that was possible.
Just then, Grace felt her cell phone vibrate in her sweater pocket. Something told her to check it.
“Excuse me a second,” she said, pushing away from the table. “I should take this.”
“Go for it.”
Grace stepped into the family room and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Grace Miller?”
“Yes.” Grace pressed the phone to her ear, fearing she’d miss what the caller was saying.
“This is Suze, Bradley’s girlfriend.”
“How are you?”
“Okay, um...” She was soft-spoken. “My grandmother’s medication is missing. I didn’t want to say anything until I went home to check.”
A slow, steady beat thrummed through Grace’s ears. “What kind of medication?”
“The kind found in Jason’s system the night he died.”
Grace shot a glance toward the kitchen. Harry seemed focused on Conner clearing the driveway. She turned back around and spoke quietly into the phone. “Would Bradley have had access to the drugs?”
“Yes, he used to joke that he could make a lot of money by selling them at school. I blew him off. I thought it was a stupid joke. Well, my grandma died last fall—”
“I’m very sorry.”
“Thanks...” Suze sniffed. “I forgot all about it until earlier today when the deputy said something.”
“Does Bradley know you checked your grandma’s medication?”
“No! Shortly after you left, I told him I wasn’t feeling well. I went home and checked my grandma’s bathroom. She lived with us before she died. I know my mom hasn’t gotten around to clearing anything out.” Her voice shook. “Do you think Bradley drugged Jason? I can’t imagine...”
“I don’t know. I need you to do me a favor. Don’t say anything to Bradley. Okay? Promise?”
“I promise.”
