Shroud of Fog: (A Cape Trouble Romantic Suspense Novel)

by Johnson, Janice Kay

“What are you worried about, Abbot? That Sophie has reason to be afraid?” Which she did, he thought, although maybe not of Escott. “Or that some of his confidence might have come from him having taken care of Doreen himself?”

  “I don’t like to think that,” Grissom said unhappily. “I went to school with Arthur and even dated his sister, once upon a time. But he sounded downright…well, vicious.”

  “Did the two of them ever spot you?” Daniel asked.

  “Spot me? Oh, at the hardware store. No, I gave up on looking for the washer I needed and sort of sidled away.”

  “Then I might just have a talk with both of them. No need for me to name who passed on a tip to me.”

  “That would be good,” Grissom said, his relief obvious. “Ms. Thomsen is a nice lady. And Doreen, I didn’t always agree with her, but she was a fighter, and you have to admire that. She sure as hell didn’t deserve what happened to her.”

  His fervency removed Daniel’s last doubt. “No, she didn’t.”

  *****

  Turned out Arthur Escott had an ironclad alibi for the time of Doreen’s death. He and his wife had been in Juneau, Alaska, visiting a daughter who lived there. They hadn’t gotten back until that same evening. Daniel did a little checking with the airline, and sure enough. Both the Escotts had been on the direct flight into Portland.

  One thing Daniel knew – he now had an enemy on the city council.

  Daniel had a brief conversation with Ron Campbell, too, but from a purely financial standpoint, he had a lot less motive to want the Misty Beach campaign to flop. Tourists didn’t tend to flock to the hardware store when they were on vacation, and as marginal as pay was for industry jobs like maids and groundskeepers, the boost in population to the town wouldn’t translate to a burst in economic prosperity for his kind of business. Campbell at least had the grace to express his shock at Doreen’s murder and his hope that Daniel would soon make an arrest. He did grumble briefly about ‘outsiders’ who were trying to influence what should be a purely local decision. Daniel pointed out that the land was now owned by another outsider, one who had no stake in the future of Cape Trouble.

  Back in front of his computer, he discovered that Elias Burton’s mother had sold her house in the old part of town – presumably Elias’s childhood home – just two months ago and moved into a condo in a seniors-only building closer to the beach. The last couple hours of the afternoon, he tracked down several of the donors who had given items that were in the larger box with the jewelry to ask if they might have given anything else. Gail Burton wasn’t home the first time he went by the new condo, but when he tried again close to five, she came to the door.

  She was a strikingly beautiful woman for her age. The artist’s bone structure, height and coloring had come from this woman. “Why, you’re the police chief, aren’t you?” She sounded intrigued rather than dismayed. “Please, come in.”

  No, surprise, a magnificent oil painting of the rocky part of the beach and the sea stacks offshore dominated her living room, hanging above a sofa that was upholstered in a fabric he guessed had been chosen to complement the artwork.

  “Your son’s,” he said, nodding at it.

  “Yes.” She smiled with obvious pleasure. “I have several in other parts of the house, but that’s my favorite. Landscapes can be bland, don’t you think? But never Elias’s. He surely didn’t get his talent from me.” She chuckled, asked if he’d like coffee and then, when he declined, gazed inquiringly at him.

  He explained that he was investigating Doreen Stedmann’s death and that questions had been raised about some unidentified auction items. He claimed that an unspecified ‘someone’ had suggested she might have donated some items as she cleared out her house.

  “Actually, I did make a donation,” she said without hesitation. “Didn’t Elias tell you?”

  “Tell me?”

  “He’s given me so many paintings over the years. I couldn’t possibly hang them all here, and I thought it was appropriate to give a different one he did some years back of the driftwood looking as ancient as dinosaur bones along the river. It’s really lovely, and a little melancholy, and given that he did the auction artwork, I suspect will sell for a really good price. He hates the idea of that land getting bulldozed so huge hotels can go up, you know. He’s painted scenes over there any number of times.”

  “I have seen a couple of those,” he agreed.

  “Oh.” Her eyes flashed. “I suppose you saw the one over his fireplace.”

  He agreed that he had.

  “It’s an extraordinary painting, isn’t it?” She sat at one end of that sofa, gracefully composed, a woman who was more comfortable with the topic than he’d have expected. She sounded artless, but he wasn’t deceived into thinking that she was chatting mindlessly. “That poor woman. Elias was quite madly in love with her that summer, before she killed herself. What a dreadful tragedy. I felt so for her daughter, and now I understand she’s back in town taking charge of the auction to save the old resort. I have to admire her courage.”

  “I do, too,” he said, smiling at her.

  “I wouldn’t have thought she’d ever want to see that particular beach again.”

  “She didn’t.” He explained about her relationship with Doreen.

  “I see.” A cloud seemed to momentarily shade her face. “I had fully intended to volunteer to help with the auction, but then I had a bit of a health scare. That’s what led to me downsizing.” She gestured to take in the condo. “If she still needs help, I’m to the point where I’d be glad to do something like make phone calls or write letters. Will you let her know?”

  “I will,” he said, rising to his feet. “You may be sorry you offered. I know Sophie is trying to find people to hand-write thank you notes to all the donors.”

  “I can certainly do that,” she said firmly, standing as well. “My phone number is in the book.”

  On the way out the door, he asked if she happened to know of anyone else who might have given a beautiful antique quilt or some jewelry, but she shook her head. “I’m afraid not. I have a couple of friends who have given, but nothing like that.”

  He thanked her and left, reaching for his phone even before he got into his car. Sophie would have called if she’d been ready to leave the storage facility…but he wanted to be sure.

  *****

  Sophie hadn’t actually lived with a man since she left home for college at eighteen, and this was different. It felt so intimate, exchanging news from their day as she stashed her purse and kicked off her shoes while Daniel removed his holster and pistol, putting them on top of the refrigerator. She’d talked to Doreen’s pastor about the memorial service they were planning, and Daniel made a few suggestions. Somewhat to Sophie’s relief, Doreen’s body had yet to be released, which meant delaying the service.

  Then, as he emptied his pockets of change into a jar on the counter, Daniel told her about his conversation with Elias Burton’s mother, and her offer to help with the auction should Sophie want her.

  “I’ll pass her name on to Hannah. She’s taken over organizing the volunteers writing the thank yous. I know she could use more help. People offer, and then don’t follow through.”

  “Even on a job, some people aren’t good with follow through,” he said, opening the refrigerator.

  “What’s she like?” Sophie asked, curious.

  He turned, a package of chicken breasts in his hand. “What do you mean?”

  There was an odd tone to his voice, but, pursuing her own thoughts, she didn’t pay attention to it. “He seems so reserved. I mean, he’s not the kind of guy you can picture as a little kid. Running to Mom when he falls off his bike and skins his knee. Plus, you have to admit he’s beautiful.”

  “No, actually I don’t.”

  She frowned at him. “You sound annoyed.”

  Having dropped the package of chicken on the stove, he leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “We’re sleeping together.”
>
  Light bulb. “You didn’t like me calling him beautiful.”

  “Would you like it if I whistled at some bikini babe when we were together?”

  He was jealous. Sophie grappled with the notion. Daniel Colburn was so supremely self-confident, she would never have expected him to feel so much as a twinge merely because she’d remarked on another man’s appearance.

  “I didn’t flirt with him.”

  His mouth had a rueful twist. “I know you didn’t. Hey, I’m being stupid. Pretend I didn’t say any of this.”

  She crossed the couple of steps separating them and went on tiptoe to kiss his jaw. “You know you don’t have to feel threatened by Elias. He’s an interesting man.” It was the banked fires she’d sensed in him, she thought, but knew better than to say. “I didn’t find him sexy. Truthfully…” She hesitated.

  Daniel’s hands now rested on her hips. As always, he was patient, waiting for her to sort out what she wanted to say, his eyebrows slightly raised.

  “I felt a little repelled,” she said finally. “He was there that summer. I didn’t think anything of the way he watched us then, but now— Well.”

  Daniel bent his head enough to rub his cheek against her hair. “That’s why I went to see his mother, you know.”

  She leaned back enough to see his face. “You thought the stash of jewelry might have been his.”

  “Probably not, but…” He was thinking, too. “You have to admit, he’s still obsessed with your mother.”

  “Well, he said not, but—”

  “Twenty years later, the painting of her dominates his house.”

  “It is gorgeous,” she said, in all fairness.

  “After seeing the other paintings of your mother, I don’t think he did that one back then. It might have been years later when he tried to do her justice. That qualifies as obsession in my book.”

  Sophie couldn’t quell a shimmer of anxiety.

  “I wonder if he’ll take it down now.”

  She stared at him. “Why do you say that?”

  “Having you there made him look at himself in a different light. You were a little kid then, and now you’re all grown up, a beautiful woman, and he’s still got a picture of your mother hanging on his wall where he can see it every day? I think he got a jolt.”

  She tried to remember, but all she’d seen was the painting. Her mother.

  Maybe she was the one obsessed with the past. “Who cares about Elias Burton?” she declared.

  Daniel smiled at her. “Not me.”

  “Unless,” she said, reading his expression accurately.

  He tipped his head. “Yeah. Unless. I can’t forget that he was there that morning. I have to keep him on my radar.”

  “If…if he killed a whole bunch of women, why would he be obsessed with my mother?”

  “Because, in a sense, she got away?”

  She could tell he was reasoning it out even as he spoke.

  “You mean, he didn’t have a chance to rape her.”

  “And do whatever he did with the other women’s bodies.”

  The entire subject was sickening, but Sophie couldn’t let it go. “Do you think that part would matter to…to whoever killed those women?”

  “That’s hard to say when we don’t know how he disposed of their bodies. It might be part of what he got off on, and it might not. Your mother was his only near screwup. This was a careful guy. He didn’t want to get caught. The best way to ensure that was for no one to ever find the bodies, so making them disappear may have been purely practical.”

  She shivered, and he felt it. He wrapped her snugly in his arms, his chin on top of her head.

  “I’m an idiot, talking to you like this. I’m sorry, Sophie.”

  Even as she pressed herself against him, soaking in his warmth and strength, she shook her head. “No, I want you to be able to say what you’re thinking. This is what you do for a living. It’s who you are. I’d hate to think you ever felt you had to watch what you say to me.”

  He was quiet for a minute. “Being a cop is different,” he said finally. “There are things we do and see on the job that we don’t share.”

  “That doesn’t sound healthy to me.”

  His chest vibrated with a low laugh. “You’re right. It probably isn’t.” His hands came up to frame her face, as if he wanted to be sure she was looking at him when he said, “This was your mother, though. You found her. You have enough gruesome memories without me adding layers.”

  “I still want to know what you’re thinking. And what you’re doing.” She hesitated. “If you don’t mind telling me, that is.”

  “No. What I’m going to do next is go back to the resort and talk to Billington’s wife.”

  “In case she’s the one who gave stuff for the auction. Without consulting him.”

  “You got it. Billington makes me uneasy.”

  “He makes me uneasy, too,” she admitted. “But he was pleasant enough when he stopped to talk, and you have to admit, he’s doing something pretty extraordinary to give us the time to raise the money. For me, it’s the same deal as Elias. Benjamin was there that summer, too.”

  “Yeah.” His voice was suddenly hard. “He was.”

  That sent another shudder through her. She didn’t like not remembering anything after she found her mother. Now she’d been told Elias and Benjamin had found her screaming. One of them might have carried her away, even back to the cabin. It gave her the creeps to see in their eyes the memory of that shocked little girl, when all she had was a blank. She felt naked in a way she hated. She couldn’t imagine she’d ever feel comfortable with either man.

  This time Daniel murmured comforting words, and after a minute she was able to straighten and claim she was starved. She doubted she’d fooled him, but he willingly involved her in dinner preparation, which set her to thinking again how natural this felt, when she didn’t dare let herself get too used to it.

  He hadn’t asked her to move into his house because he wanted to come home to her every evening. She couldn’t forget that. This was him being protective, that was all. And, yes, enjoying the sex as long as she was around. But this part – the cooking together, dancing around each other in the kitchen as if they’d done it forever, sometimes talking about things that were really important, sometimes letting those things remain unspoken but exchanged with a glance – she didn’t dare believe in. The auction was only a few weeks away, and when it was over and her aunt’s house sold, she’d have no reason ever to return to Cape Trouble.

  And it was her own stupid fault if she was left with a bruised heart.

  *****

  Any plans Daniel had made for his day were wiped out five minutes after he arrived at the station. An irate citizen marched in to claim he’d heard a prowler sometime after midnight, and the officer who was supposed to show up never did. Under questioning, a woman on dispatch admitted she had been unable to reach said officer, but hadn’t worried, as she didn’t think rattling garbage cans sounded like that much of an emergency.

  This had been one of Aaron Krieder’s two nights off. Daniel’s options were limited, and he’d assigned Austin Hawley to work those nights in part because he wouldn’t have trusted him to guard Sophie. Hawley was a swaggering young stud who hadn’t liked the changes Daniel had instituted in the department. He took some pleasure in sending Tony Diaz to haul Hawley’s ass out of bed and march him in for a talk.

  Shifting from foot to foot in front of Daniel’s desk, he said he guessed he might have pulled over and dozed, missing the call. He wasn’t a good liar. It eventually came out that he and his girlfriend had been having a fight earlier in the evening, and he’d gone to her place to finish it. They made up, and although he wouldn’t confess to as much, Daniel knew damn well he’d spent the rest of the night at her place.

  Daniel stared unblinkingly at him. “What if that call had been about a B and E or a car accident with injuries?”

  The blond, beefy officer gave a sullen
shrug. “It wasn’t. Nothing ever happens at night.”

  Daniel probably wouldn’t have hesitated even if he’d seen some sign of repentance, but as it was he said flatly, “You’re fired. I’ll take your badge and gun right now.” He stood, holding out his hand.

  Hawley didn’t take the dismissal well. Daniel had barely ushered him out when he saw Ellie looking shaken for the first time ever.

  “Chief, there’s a holdup in progress at Sterling Bank. The manager just called.”

  Well, damn. Bank holdups did take place in small towns, but they were rare. And committing a crime like that in Cape Trouble was downright nonsensical. How did the bank robber think he’d get away with his bag full of money? Meander on up Highway 101 until he was pulled over? There weren’t a lot of ways to get out of town.

  But sure enough, when Daniel raced down Schooner Street and rounded the corner onto Madrona, lights flashing and siren wailing, he found the holdup had degenerated into a hostage situation because one of his officers had innocently pulled up in front of the bank, thereby blocking the escape route.

  “I was just going in to make a loan payment,” Steve Kennedy told Daniel, trying to sound laconic but failing. “I guess I scared the shit out of him, and when he spun around wearing a black ski mask and holding a gun, he scared the shit out of me, too.”

  Daniel already knew the guy had fired his weapon. Fortunately, Kennedy had only gotten as far as opening one of the double glass doors when he saw what was happening, and had been able to let go of the door and dive to the side. A bullet had passed through the glass at just about chest height. It was a goddamn miracle it hadn’t hit a passing vehicle or pedestrian.

  Employing all of his now even-smaller force except for Ron Slawinski, who was once more standing guard over Sophie, Daniel set up a perimeter, then called the sheriff’s department. He’d been leaning heavily on them lately, he reflected.

  “Some fool is holding up a bank?” Sheriff Mackay said, when told the situation.

  “Sad but true.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got a negotiator.” Mackay had to be shaking his head. “I’ve only had to use her once since I took this job, so I don’t know how good she is, but I’ll find out where she is and what her ETA will be. Hold on a minute.” He came back to say, “She was off duty and home. You’re looking at probably forty-five minutes.”