Framed to Death (A Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery Book 4)

by Christina Freeburn

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means it hasn’t been decided if it was even a murder.” He took a swig of his soda.

  “What else could it be?”

  “Why not ask your new boyfriend? I’m assuming you two are an item now since you’ve been avoiding me.”

  I didn’t like the sarcasm in Steve’s tone. I wrapped my hands around my bottle. The condensation made my hands clammy. “He’s not my boyfriend. He’s a friend. That’s it.” For now. “I told you I needed some space to sort things out. Not to mention I’ve been busy. I wanted to prove to my grandmothers I can handle the business on my own. They want to take a cruise and are worried about it.”

  “You are turning into a woman of excuses.” Steve fidgeted, moving over to the right.

  The smell of the pizza baking churned my stomach. I took a small sip of soda, hoping the carbonation would settle it. “Those aren’t excuses. I have been trying to be a better employee.”

  “And how’s that coming along now?”

  “It’s a little harder when I’m still being viewed as the town’s drug dealer.”

  “That’s only by one officer.”

  “One officer too many.”

  “Better than the rest of the town thinking so.”

  “That could change if I help Dawn prove Chad is innocent,” I said.

  Steve’s eyebrows rose. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because Dawn believes her dead husband is being railroaded. She doesn’t want his memory tarnished and no one else will listen to her.”

  “That doesn’t mean you have to.”

  “It does. Ten years ago, I was at the same crossroads. I needed help and only one person listened to me. Thank God they did or I’d be sitting in prison.” Instead of your cousin.

  “I agree that no one cares much that Chad Carr died in that fire, besides Dawn and the insurance company, but it doesn’t mean you should risk your life and reputation. Poking into this matter is only going to make Officer Mitchell suspect you more.” Steve turned sideways and rested his back against the brick wall instead of the booth. A little bit of light glinted off the springs poking out from the leather. No wonder he squirmed around.

  “Your pizza.” Jim placed the steaming cheese pizza in front of us.

  The phone rang. With hope in his eyes, Jim spun toward the sound.

  I reached for a slice and stopped. “We don’t have any plates.”

  “Sorry, I’ll go get some,” Jim said.

  The phone rang again.

  “I need to answer that, then I’ll come back with your plates.” Jim ran for the register area.

  I picked up a slice, using a napkin as a makeshift plate until Jim brought a couple. I took a bite. The cheese tasted fresh, though it was a little skimpy on the sauce, and the crust had the right mix of crunchy and softness. Next time I felt like pizza, I’d stop here instead of getting one from the freezer section. It would be nice to help out a fellow business owner.

  Jim’s excited voice carried over to us. An order, a huge one from the sound of it, was being placed.

  Steve finished one slice, reaching for a second. “Think about it, Faith. Searching out the truth could easily be construed as you setting someone up.”

  “Not if I have solid physical evidence and not just a verbal statement saying ‘I didn’t do it.’”

  Steve took an inordinate amount of interest in the remaining slices. It wasn’t like he needed to count the pepperonis and snag the one with the most pieces. “Then I’d be careful taking other people’s words at face value. They may have an ulterior motive in wanting to be proven innocent.”

  I paused with my hand an inch from my chosen slice, the one with the most browned cheese. “What?”

  “For a couple with money troubles, Chad sure was insured for a hefty sum.”

  “How much?”

  “Four million.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Where would they get the money for the policy?”

  “Something or someone was financing the policy.”

  Janie. I was sure those sales were kept off the books and paid for in cash, which meant Dawn knew her husband was selling the synthetic marijuana. How else would she know they had the funds available to pay for a large life insurance policy?

  A throat cleared near us. I looked over. Jim offered a shaky smile and put two plates on the table. Steve and I had to be careful. The place was empty customer-wise, but not totally devoid of other people. I didn’t want Steve getting in trouble for giving me information.

  “I just got a large order,” Jim said. “Do you need anything else? I’m going to be busy in the kitchen for a while.”

  “We’re good,” Steve said.

  Jim nodded and went to the back.

  I picked some cheese off a slice of pizza. “Are you insinuating that Dawn is using me because she had something to do with her husband’s death and wants me to prove she’s innocent?”

  “That’s an accurate assessment. Let’s just say it’s likely Chad didn’t know about the policy his wife—more correctly, estranged wife—took out on him.”

  “Are you sure? Dawn’s devastated. She’s not faking her grief. And I saw them working on the policies together when Felicity and I were there. The insurance stuff was on the front counter.”

  “She wasn’t living with her husband.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Did you get a good look at the documents? Was it personal life insurance, business, fire?”

  I glared at him. He was ignoring my question. “I didn’t get that close of a view. I just saw the title on top of the document. They were using Allan Sullivan’s insurance company for the policy.”

  “I wonder why Mrs. Sullivan didn’t mention that when she was questioned.”

  “Felicity was questioned?”

  “Faith, stay out of it.”

  Worry crossed Steve’s face.

  “You tell me I’m probably being used by Dawn and she’s a suspect in her husband’s murder, then that Felicity was questioned, and then say stay out of it. Why? So Dawn can be blamed for Chad’s death? Does the town, and the law, believe that if Chad was a drug dealer, she must be one too?”

  “You’re not being fair. Drugs were found on the premise, and there’s much more that you don’t know about.”

  “So you’re only able to tell me the details you can use to control me. It won’t work.”

  “That’s not it, Faith.” Steve reached for my hands.

  I pulled back.

  Old feelings stirred in me. Moments of my relationship with Adam merged into ones I had with Steve. All the times Adam convinced me what I saw wasn’t the truth whirled in my mind: the moments he recounted conversations I was certain we never had, the checks he insisted I had signed but I didn’t recall, the day Adam swore he had come home at a certain time when he hadn’t. It was the last lie that was almost my downfall. While I had vouched for Adam being home with me, he told the police he was at a bar with friends and those friends lied for him. Everything Adam had ever said to me, or asked of me, was to help himself.

  “I worry about you. Nothing has changed for me.” Steve placed his hand on mine.

  “It has for me.” I drew in a deep breath, gathering all the strength and resolve I’d need. “I won’t be controlled. Not by you, my grandmothers, or by myself, trying to pretend the past doesn’t exist. Not anymore.”

  “I’m not controlling you.” His voice rose. Quickly, he lowered his tone. “I love you, so I worry. I want to make sure you’re safe. That’s not controlling you.”

  “Yet you were willing to hand me information to help yourself out. You’re like everyone else in town who want nothing to do with bringing to justice the person who killed Carr. You’re willing to t
ake the answer right in front of you because it’s the easiest to believe. I’ve been that easy answer, Steve. I won’t stand by and let you or anyone else do that to Dawn.”

  All the emotion left Steve’s brown eyes. I wasn’t sure if it was because I caught on to the manipulation, or if he hadn’t realized that was what he was doing.

  “I’m not Adam,” he said.

  “I know you’re not.”

  “Do you?” Steve gripped the table, his fingers whitening from the pressure. “Everything between us changed when I told you Adam was my cousin. You’re doing to me what you feared everyone would to do you.”

  “That’s not true. Everything changed because you lied—”

  “I didn’t lie.”

  “Lie. Withheld. Same thing.” I stood.

  “You lied.” Steve relaxed his hold on the table.

  “I was keeping something about myself private, because I was afraid people would judge my grandmothers and me. It was why I hadn’t wanted to date you. I was afraid dating the ex-wife of a murderer would ruin your career. The whole time you knew and kept that from me. I was scared and confused, twisting myself up in a knot, and you could’ve relieved all of that. You knew what I was holding back, and instead of telling me, you played a game with the truth.”

  “I wasn’t toying with you, Faith. I wanted you to tell me.”

  “I didn’t need you to test me. You knew what I was struggling with, and you sat by and watched.” I felt tears well in my eyes but refused to cry. “I always believed you were helpful, the one person I could trust to have my back. Now I don’t know what to believe about you anymore. What else do you know, or think you know, that you’re silent about because you’re waiting for me to mention it first? I won’t go through that again.”

  “Tonight wasn’t about a new start, was it?”

  “No. I never said it was.”

  “It would’ve been nice for you to have said something.”

  “I’ve been trying. You wouldn’t listen.”

  Steve slid out of the booth. “I was hoping you’d give me another chance.”

  I knew what he wanted from me. I couldn’t give it to him. Part of me wished I could, but I was done wishing my life away. I wanted to live it in the here and now. “We can be friends, Steve. I can give that.”

  “That’s not enough for me.”

  He walked out the door, leaving me with an aching heart and the bill. That wasn’t the way I’d hoped it would go, but one couldn’t control another person’s reaction. I didn’t want Steve entirely out of my life. He’d either change his mind, or I’d get used to this new reality.

  Clanging came from the kitchen. Jim was still busy getting the order ready. I waited at the front. More banging was followed by a crash and some choice words. I spotted the order pad by the phone and decided to help Jim out. I found our order, took a menu, and wrote down the correct prices. After a few taps on the calculator on my phone, I had everything added up, including the tax.

  I pulled twenty-five dollars from my wallet, starting to place it on the counter. A set of headlights flashed in the parking lot. I didn’t want to leave the cash out where someone could snag it. Leaning over the counter, I checked out the register, noticing it was a vintage one without all the bells, whistles, and security devices like the one we used at Scrap This.

  “Jim, I tallied our bill. I’m going to put the money in the register.”

  After pulling up the latch and lifting the opening in the counter, I stood in front of the register. I hit the correct buttons and the drawer popped open, snagging the corner of a business card. I untangled the card Jim had placed in the slot for twenties. Vulcan Catering. Identical to the one I found in the alleyway at the stadium. Was Jim branching his culinary repertoire to barbeque? I yanked my fingers away before the register was slammed shut.

  “What are you doing?” Jim’s face was red, sweat beaded on his brow.

  “Putting money in the register.”

  “I’m closing. You need to leave.” Jim grabbed my arm, dragging me away from the register.

  “I’m sorry.” I struggled to get out of his grasp. “I was trying to help.”

  “I have an order to deliver. You need to leave. Now.”

  “I’m going.”

  I pulled away from his grasp.

  Jim yanked the door open and watched me every step of the way to my car.

  A small light flickered in the cab of the truck still in the lot. The only additional detail I made out in the dark was the roll bar attached to the bed. I started my car and left the parking lot, a shiver working through me. I swore the person in the truck stepped out to watch me leave.

  ELEVEN

  The sun bounced off the white cross on the steeple, creating a welcoming halo around the church. I whipped into the crowded parking lot as the bell pealed. The usual stragglers were wandering through the open doors of the sanctuary. Time was running out for me. I hated getting the Sunday lecture from my grandmothers and it wasn’t looking good for me to beat the final dong of the bell.

  I scuttled into the church and snagged a bulletin from the greeter’s hand. I hadn’t seen so many people in church since Easter Sunday.

  “You’d better hurry,” Mr. Murphy grumped. “Your grandmothers are getting in a tizzy, especially Cheryl.”

  “How’s your pawn shop?”

  Mr. Murphy ran a handkerchief over his balding head. “Okay, considering what could’ve happened. Young punks started themselves a bonfire behind Lake’s store. It jumped from hers and went to mine. Thankfully, my sprinklers worked. I think that’s the only thing keeping the fire inspector off my back. Poor Lake isn’t having such an easy time. The man the insurance company sent sure is hot to prove she did it on purpose.”

  “Why would they think that?”

  “I guess it looks all kinds of wrong because Lake got the policy approved a few days before it happened. I figure the company ain’t liking the fact it has to dish out a huge chunk of change to a new customer. And it don’t help none that Lake gave the kids permission to have the bonfire back there. I told her it wasn’t a bright idea but she thought it would make the parents come running to her store. Homecoming is around the corner and she wanted the business.” He turned me by the shoulders. “You better get inside. Cheryl is giving me the evil eye.”

  “One more question. Did anyone contact you about buying a camera?”

  “Nope. Upgrading yours?”

  “Trying to get it back.”

  Mr. Murphy shook his head in sympathy and patted my arm. “Tell you what, darling, if someone brings one by, I’ll let you know and notify the police.”

  “I thought you were closed?”

  “The Buford boys are letting me use their plumbing office until my place is fixed up. I can’t make money if I’m not open. If someone brings in a camera, I promise to call. I usually do a good job of making sure my merchandise is free and clear, but things can get past these old eyes.”

  “Thanks.” I headed for our pew. No one actually owned any of the pews in the church, but every member of the congregation always sat in the same spot.

  I craned my neck, trying for a view of the fifth row from the front, otherwise known as Dawn and Chad’s spot. No Dawn. Was she skipping church this morning? I walked a few more feet, getting a good look at the pew, and heaviness filled my heart. Handbags took up the spaces where Dawn and Chad usually sat, the owners of the accessories looking pleased.

  Sobs came from behind me. Dawn sat in the back row alone, hands pressing into her face as she squished up against the end of the pew. Empty except for her. As I backtracked, congregation members sent each other knowing looks, thrilled smiles on their faces, and a few even added a slight nod when my gaze clashed into theirs.

  They thought I was going to confront the w
idow and were pleased. Would everyone’s opinion toward Dawn change if she was the one who killed her husband? Everything Steve told me last night rushed into my brain. Were Dawn’s tears real heartbreak, or a show for the congregation, the police, and the insurance adjuster?

  The choir members left the pews and walked onto the stage at the front of the church. If I didn’t want to be considered late and receive a lecture, I needed to sit down before the first note left Gussie.

  Hope sat up taller. Cheryl glanced at her watch then turned her head. I met her gaze and nodded toward Dawn, sliding into the pew and dropping myself next to Dawn. The thin red cushion shifted as Dawn created a little more personal space between us. Ted was sitting behind my grandmothers and frowned at me.

  Gussie tapped her throat and rubbed at it, signaling she needed water. Gussie got a little diva-ish on church days. She had a beautiful singing voice, and a look that terrified the congregation into submission, so what she wanted Pastor Evans rushed to get her.

  Today, I knew her actions bought me more time. I owed her one. Unlike other members in the congregation, I knew she wanted to give me time to comfort Dawn. I rummaged around in my purse and found a clean tissue, then placed it on Dawn’s lap.

  With a shaking hand, she picked it up and wiped her face. Her red-rimmed eyes and the devastation in her blue gaze told me everything. This was real, cut-into-your-soul grief. Her husband was murdered, and her community turned on her.

  I clasped her hand. It was ice cold.

  “Go sit with your grandmothers.” Dawn wiped her eyes. “I don’t want you to help me anymore. If you do, the town will hate you.”

  “I don’t care if they do.” I pulled a hymnal from the holder and stood. “No one should pay for someone else’s sins.”

  “My husband isn’t guilty.” The sadness left Dawn’s expression, replaced by a steely resolve.

  I wasn’t so sure about that, but I did know what Chad committed was on him and not anyone else. Even if Chad sold the illegal substance, it didn’t mean his wife should be shunned by the town.