Plain Jeopardy

by Alison Stone

  “I’ll talk to Captain Gates. He’ll follow up.”

  “Okay.” Suze sniffed again. “Did I do the right thing by calling? I don’t want to get Bradley into trouble, but...if he did that to Jason...” Indecision, disgust and uncertainty dripped from her tone.

  “You did the right thing. Now, don’t say another word about it to anyone until you hear from Captain Gates.”

  Grace ended the call and stood motionless in the living room. Had Bradley stolen the prescription? They’d need proof.

  Grace returned to the kitchen and detected a shift in Harry’s posture. Staring out the window, he set down his coffee mug, and the brown contents sloshed over the edges. She drew closer to the window to see what had caught his attention. A car was parked in the road, and a man in a long black coat was charging up the driveway.

  Plowing the snow, Conner seemed oblivious to the man approaching. He adjusted the chute on the snowblower, narrowly missing the man with the arc of white snow.

  “Who is that?” Grace asked, staring intently.

  “The mayor. And he doesn’t look happy.”

  TWELVE

  Hunkering down in the collar of his winter coat, Conner pushed the snowblower up his father’s driveway. At the rate snow was falling, he’d have to swing by and clear the driveway again in a few hours. Conner hated to see his father out in the cold, even though he was more than capable of clearing it himself.

  Who was he kidding? He hated to be out in the cold, too. Good thing he didn’t mind putting his truck into four-wheel drive and zooming up his own driveway that rarely saw a shovel or a snowblower.

  Conner reached the top of the driveway and cranked the chute to blow the snow to the far side of the driveway. He came up short when a black form charging toward him caught his attention. Adrenaline shot through his veins, making him forget about his frozen face, despite his winter hat tucked low on his head.

  Conner shoved the snowblower into Neutral, then, when he realized it was the mayor, he turned it off. “How can I help you, Mayor?”

  “I thought maybe you’d be here after stopping at my house.”

  “I’m helping my dad out.”

  “Listen, Conner, I’m real sorry about your cousin’s son, but you have to stop bothering my son.”

  Conner tucked his gloved hands under his armpits. “I wanted to ask him a few questions about the night Jason died.”

  “Haven’t we covered that ground more than once? The kid is wrecked.” The mayor’s nose had turned bright red, matching the tips of his ears. The guy needed a hat. “I want him to move on. Go to college. I don’t need you to keep dragging him back to that night. The poor kid feels awful.”

  Something about his choice of words bothered Conner. “Why does he feel awful?”

  The mayor fell back on his heels. “What do you mean? He lost his best friend. Of course he feels awful.”

  “How did you know I was at your house, anyway?”

  “A neighbor recognized you. Said you were with some woman.” As if sensing “the woman” was close, the mayor’s eyes drifted to the house, then returned to him. “We need this whole situation to go away.”

  “Situation? Jason died. It’s never going to go away.” Conner’s cheeks grew fiery hot, despite the polar wind whipping his face.

  The mayor seemed to deflate a little, realizing what he had said. “I’m sorry. This whole situation—I mean, Jason’s tragic death—has thrown everyone for a loop. Bradley is struggling. Really struggling. I’m worried about his mental health. I need for him to move on. I love my son. I don’t want this to derail his life.”

  Conner bit back the argument that Jason didn’t have the option to move on. Yet no one could fault the mayor for wanting only good for his son. Maybe that was the best thing. Besides, without any evidence, their theory was all conjecture at this point. Would they needlessly ruin another young life?

  “I talked to the sheriff, and he said you’re supposed to be on vacation.”

  Conner raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything.

  “Come in before you both freeze,” Conner’s father called from the front door, sounding very much like the authoritative sheriff he had once been. “Come in, both of you.”

  The mayor strode toward the door, traipsing over a few inches of fresh snow. Conner had just cleared that walkway. It was going to be a long day, for more than one reason.

  Conner made sure the snowplow was off and followed the mayor into his father’s home. His father grabbed two mugs from the holder and proceeded to fill them up.

  He handed one to the mayor and waited for Conner to take off his gloves before offering him the other.

  Conner set the mug down, afraid the coffee would upset his already roiling gut. He yanked off his hat. Chunks of snow fell to his father’s hardwood floor. He pulled his arms out of his heavy coat and tossed it over the chair.

  “What brings you here in this weather, Mayor?” his father asked.

  The mayor hesitated for a moment before answering. “Checking on why Conner and his friend here were at my house talking to my son.”

  “Like I said in the driveway, we were following up on some things, that’s all.”

  The mayor set down his coffee mug forcefully. “I don’t know why I came in. I don’t have time for this. Thanks, Harry. We’ll catch up at the diner one of these days.”

  “Sure,” Harry said, taking a step toward the mayor. “You pick the time. I’ve got lots of it.”

  “Mayor?” Grace spoke up for the first time. “Everything I’ve heard about you leads me to believe you’re a stand-up guy.”

  “Is there something you want?” The mayor lifted his chin, practically puffing out his chest. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

  Grace smiled and held out her hand. “Grace Miller. My sister Heather opened the bed & breakfast.”

  “Yes, yes...” He strolled toward her and held out his hand in the easy way of politicians. He pumped her hand twice before pausing and adding, “You were the woman at my house talking to my son?”

  “I was. I’m working on a story about the night Jason died.”

  The mayor visibly flinched. “I was telling Conner that my son has taken Jason’s death hard, and I’d appreciate it if you stopped asking questions. It’s too painful for him.”

  “I can imagine.” There was a coldness to Grace’s words that struck Conner. She seemed to be calculating something. She met Conner’s gaze, then looked at the mayor. “Would you give the sheriff’s department permission to search your home for some prescription drugs?”

  The mayor jerked his head back. “What are you talking about?”

  Conner stared at Grace. Obviously something had transpired between the time he put his jacket on and went outside to clear his father’s driveway and now. He wanted to take her to another room and talk privately, but something told him he had to let it play out. To trust her.

  “I know you love your son. However, I think he may have done something very stupid. Something that may have led to Jason’s accident.”

  The mayor shook his head. “No way. You’re wrong.”

  “Perhaps you’ll allow Conner to call the sheriff’s department. Allow someone to search the house, perhaps your son’s room, for prescription drugs that don’t belong to him.”

  The mayor crossed his arms. “Is that what it will take to make you both stop?” The mayor’s gaze bounced from Grace to Conner.

  Conner studied Grace for the briefest of moments before facing the mayor and nodding.

  “Make the call then.” The mayor reached for the door handle. “One condition—neither of you can be involved.”

  * * *

  “That was a pretty gutsy move,” Conner said, pacing back and forth in his father’s kitchen. Once the mayor had left, Conner called Sheriff Flatt to conduct the search of th
e Poissant residence. His boss wasn’t too thrilled on how things had unfolded, but he couldn’t ignore Conner’s request, especially since the mayor had given them permission.

  “Perhaps I should have waited and discussed it with you first. If I had, Suze might have folded and told Bradley what she had done. I couldn’t take that risk.” Grace crossed her arms and leaned back in the kitchen chair. She shuddered as the wind pelted the glass.

  “Time was critical here.” Harry looked at Grace with something akin to approval. “The mayor and his family have been friends of mine for a long time. If their son drugged Jason—” he shook his head slowly “—that will be hard to forgive. But the kid needs to pay.”

  Conner smiled sympathetically at his dad and placed his hand on his arm. “Let’s wait and see.” Grace could tell Conner was still hoping Bradley was innocent in all this.

  A sense of loss knotted Grace’s stomach. She missed her dad. For years it had just been her and her sisters, and Grace had chosen to travel the world rather than connect with either of them. Of course, Heather’s violent husband had had a hand in keeping her isolated.

  Grace glanced at the clock on the wall. “How long do you think it’ll be till we hear something regarding the search?”

  “Not long.”

  A knock sounded on the door. “It’s like Grand Central around here,” Harry muttered as he shuffled to the door in his slippers. “Ah, Kevin.” Harry’s voice traveled from the front room to the kitchen where Grace was waiting with Conner.

  “There’s a lot of commotion at the mayor’s house. Do you know what’s going on?”

  “Come on in.” Harry led Kevin to the kitchen. “Want some coffee?”

  “Um...” Kevin seemed to come up short when he noticed Grace.

  “Hello,” she said. “Quite a storm out there.”

  “Sure is.” He unzipped his jacket and shrugged out of it. “Any chance you know what’s going on at the mayor’s house?” When no one answered right away, he added, “Aw, come on. You know I’ll find out soon enough. I’m a retired undersheriff. Don’t be such a stickler.”

  “Have a seat,” Conner said, and he explained the situation. “Since it’s only speculation at this time, please keep the information confidential.”

  “Of course,” Kevin said, a million thoughts behind his bright eyes. “It’s a shame when a decent guy like the mayor is saddled with a kid who thinks the world owes him everything.”

  “Why do you say it like that?” Grace asked.

  “The kid has everything going for him, makes a few mistakes, stumbles, then decides to take down those around him. Shame.” Kevin shook his head in a world-weary way.

  “Let’s wait and see if they uncover anything,” Conner suggested.

  Grace’s phone chimed again, and she answered. Emma wanted to see if maybe she could start working next week, after the storm had passed. The young woman must have been eager to start her new job to call again. Grace ended the call and smiled at the three pairs of eyes staring at her. “Emma Hershberger is going to start work at the bed & breakfast.”

  “Hershberger...” Kevin seemed to roll the name around on his tongue. “Maryann Hershberger was a friend of your mom’s. Any relation? A lot of these Amish have the same name.”

  “Emma is Maryann’s daughter. I went to talk to Maryann about my mom.”

  Kevin nodded. “You don’t leave any stone unturned.”

  “Not much else to do while I’m cooped up here.” Her face immediately flushed, realizing she had probably offended everyone in the room.

  Conner’s phone rang. He swiped his finger across the display. “Captain Gates.”

  Grace studied Conner’s face for any signs that prescription drugs had been found at the mayor’s house. After a frustrating series of one-word answers that told her nothing, Conner said, “I need to be the one to tell Anna.” A muscle worked in his jaw. “Thank you. I understand. Yes.” Conner ended the call.

  “They found two prescription bottles under Bradley’s mattress. Two of the same drugs found in Jason’s system.” Conner relayed the information.

  Grace grew light-headed.

  “They had the name Elaine Jankowski on them.”

  “Suze’s grandma?” she asked.

  Conner slowly nodded. “Suze’s grandma.”

  “Unbelievable,” Harry said.

  “How hard will it be to prove that Bradley drugged Jason?” Grace asked.

  “Not hard at all. After one of the deputies found the bottles, Bradley cracked. He confessed to drugging his friend. He had no idea things would turn deadly.” He met Grace’s eyes. “Your theory was right. He wanted people to think Jason wasn’t such a good kid after all.”

  Grace took no pride in being right. Not in this case. She slowly sat down, feeling oddly sorry for Bradley, but even more so for Jason and all the lives ruined because of the young man’s reckless decision.

  “Did he confess to ramming the car at the gas station?”

  “He claims a friend of his did that. They wanted to stop you.”

  “Hmm...” Grace gave it some thought. “No wonder Bradley was falling apart. Every bad decision he made led to two more.”

  “He hasn’t confessed to anything else,” Conner said to Grace in a somber tone. She assumed he was talking about the incident in the library basement and the break-in at the bed & breakfast. “I’m sure once we track down his friend, all the pieces will fall into place.”

  “Did the sheriff give you the friend’s name?” Kevin asked. “Your dad and I still know a lot of the troublemakers in town.”

  Conner rubbed his jaw. “Some kid, last name Younge.”

  Kevin gave a knowing nod. “Must be Jimmy Younge. Comes from a long line of delinquents.”

  Grace wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. “Sounds like everything is unraveling. We caught a break when we ran into Suze at Bradley’s house this morning. If not for her...” She let her words trail off.

  “Sometimes that’s how cases are solved. A matter of being in the right place at the right time,” Kevin said.

  “That’s for sure,” Harry added. With that, he turned his attention to the storm outside. “The snow doesn’t show any signs of letting up.”

  “Let me finish the driveway, then get you home.” Conner smiled at Grace while he reached for his jacket. “I’ll hurry up. We don’t want to get stranded.”

  THIRTEEN

  The following evening, Grace stepped away from the table after snapping her laptop closed. She had spent most of the day working on her article about the events that had unfolded here over the past few days and weeks. The story was good. Really good. Now she had to wait for the right time to post it.

  She rolled back her shoulders, easing out the kinks from hunching over her laptop for hours. It wasn’t often the son of a mayor set in motion the tragic events that ruined lives and intensified the focus on an otherwise sleepy little town. She blinked her eyes, surprised to see that it was already dark outside. She really could get lost in her work.

  Good thing she had declined Conner’s offer for dinner. As much as she wanted to spend more time with him, she feared they were getting too close. A romantic relationship wasn’t in her plans. They had already settled that.

  Standing and stretching, she strolled over to the fridge. She was grateful for the leftovers. Conner’s father had made a mean meatloaf last night and insisted she take some home. She could get used to the family and friendships in Quail Hollow, yet she still had no plans to stay. Her writing took her out into the world. Gave her financial freedom.

  She dug her cell phone out of her purse when it dinged. It was her editor.

  When are you going to get me that piece? Amish won’t be hot forever. Followed by a clock emoji, as in, “Tick tock, your time is running out.”

  She smiled ruefully. She
felt that way about a lot of things of late: time was running out.

  Not in the mood to deal with her editor, she set her phone facedown on the counter. She ran her hand across her chin and stared at the plate rotating in the microwave. There was a bigger story here. Maybe a book.

  Did she have what it took to write a book? It would take a long time, and she wouldn’t make any money for a while.

  She bent her arm over her head and tugged on her elbow with the opposite hand, savoring the muscle stretch. Her phone chimed—this time, a phone call.

  She flipped over her phone. It was a local number. Maybe Conner was calling her from a different phone. She slid her finger across the display and pressed the speaker button.

  “Hello?”

  “Hello,” came a shaky female voice. “Grace?”

  “Yes, this is Grace.” She moved the phone closer to her mouth and spoke louder, as if that would help her hear the caller better. “Who is this?”

  “Em...ma.” The single word wobbled over the line.

  Grace’s heart dropped. “What’s wrong?”

  “I had to run some errands, and a deputy pulled my wagon over.”

  Grace blinked rapidly, trying to process what was going on. She had heard the sheriff’s department was cracking down on underage drinking parties and driving under the influence. But Emma surely hadn’t done anything.

  Grace didn’t want to ask the question over the line when a deputy was probably standing right there, allowing Emma to use his phone.

  “The deputy said he’d let me go home if someone came to pick me up.”

  “Okay, I’ll be right there. Where are you?”

  Emma gave her directions. She wasn’t too far. Grace grabbed her coat and ran out the back door. With Bradley’s arrest, they hadn’t felt the need to station Becky at Grace’s home again tonight.

  Grace slowed down when she remembered Zach’s truck was buried after the heavy snowfall. It would take her forever to dig it out. She ran back in and dialed Conner’s number. Maybe he could give her a ride. His phone went to voicemail and she paused, then hung up without leaving a message.