When Shadows Fall: A Helen Bradley Mystery (Helen Bradley Mysteries Book 5)

by Patricia H. Rushford

  "It isn't that easy."

  "But he hasn't done anything wrong. The money was from Ethan." She sniffed and blew her nose again. "Alex wasn't blackmailing us."

  "Rosie." Helen took hold of her friend's hand and squeezed it. "Alex confessed. This morning he told Joe he killed Ethan."

  Adele clutched her throat with one hand and gripped Rosie's shoulder with the other. "I told you to be careful." Looking at Helen, she added, "Rosie is so trusting. I mean, this guy pops into her life and announces he's her son. And she doesn't even do a background check."

  "He had a birth certificate," Rosie sobbed. "Don't you think I'd recognize my own son?"

  "Okay, so he looks a little like Ethan, so what?"

  Helen followed Adele's train of thought. "Alex may or may not be your son, Rosie. Adele is right. This could be a scam. Alex may have used you to extort money from Ethan. Suppose Ethan had checked into his background and discovered the truth?"

  "Please. You've got to believe me. I know Alex didn't have anything to do with Ethan's death. You have to believe that."

  Helen stood and took her cup to the sink. Part of her could see Alex Jordan as a thief and a killer, but her heart argued against it. "I hope you're right, Rosie. I do so hope you're right."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rosie stared at the road through Helen's rain-spattered windshield. "I killed Ethan."

  "Humph." Helen gave her passenger a quick glance and shook her head. "Right, and I'm Clint Eastwood. Forget it, Rosie. Nothing you say is going to convince me of that. You think you can protect Alex by confessing to the murder yourself, but you can't. If anything, you'll make matters worse. Joe will know you're protecting him, and that will only make him look more appealing as a suspect."

  "Well, I have to do something. You and I both know that if there's enough evidence against him, the police aren't going to look elsewhere."

  "I doubt that's the case. They'll keep investigating, at least for the next few days. They still need to look at the medical examiner's report and find Ethan's car. They may not go as far as we want, but they'll do the best they can to get at the truth."

  "The truth is, Alex didn't kill Ethan."

  "You can't be certain of that."

  "Yes, I can."

  Helen rubbed the back of her neck. "As I told you earlier, the best thing to do is tell Joe everything."

  "No, and don't you tell him either. I told you the truth, and look where it got me. You think he did it."

  "I'm not convinced he's guilty either, but you have to admit things are not looking good for him." The night before, looking into Alex Jordan's eyes, she'd believed him. After hearing

  Rosie's story, she didn't know what to believe. "I need to see Alex again. Talk to him. Find out exactly what kind of evidence they have against him."

  "You're going to tell Joe whether I do or not, aren't you?"

  "I have to, Rosie. You know that."

  "You'll help Alex, won't you?" Rosie was tearing up again. "Right now I feel like no one's on my side. I need you."

  What could she say? Helen wanted to walk away from the entire mess, yet knew she had to see it through. At the same time, she wanted to pack up and head for Portland, find J.B., and demand he tell her exactly what was going on. "I'm not sure I'll be of much help."

  "Of course you will. I'll work with you."

  "Not a good idea. If Alex didn't kill Ethan, then the real killer is still out there."

  "I already have an idea of who it might be."

  "Really?"

  "What if Eleanor found out about Ethan and me?"

  Even though the thought had crossed her mind, hearing it aloud gave Helen pause to consider the idea more thoroughly. "Seems to me if she suspected you were having an affair with her husband, she'd kill you, not him."

  "Not necessarily. She might be even more angry with Ethan."

  Helen nodded. "You have a point. If J.B. were having an affair, I'd be tempted to kill him first, then the woman. But only tempted, mind you."

  "But that's you, Helen. I couldn't actually kill anyone either."

  "Eleanor probably feels the same way. Can you really see her knifing someone? If she did commit murder, Eleanor would do something less messy, like putting poison in his drink."

  "I suppose you're right." Rosie smiled. "Now that I think about it, she couldn't have done it. The killer had to have access to the letter opener, and Eleanor hasn't been in the store for months."

  Helen mulled over Rosie's comment. "What about Nancy or Brian? Did either of them have access to the letter opener?"

  "Nancy was in last week sometime with Melissa. I don't remember the day." Rosie twisted in her seat. "You don't suppose Nancy could have taken it?"

  "That would mean Ethan's death was premeditated."

  "Well, it's possible."

  Helen shook her head. "Nancy plotted to kill Ethan and lay the blame on you? I don't see it. What would her motive be?"

  "Jealousy. Money. Ethan planned to change his will so Alex would get an equal share. That would have meant less money for Brian, Nancy, and Eleanor. Maybe they were in on it to­gether."

  "Not Eleanor. She won't get anything. She never needed Ethan's money. If it weren't for her, I doubt Ethan would have gone into politics. She's a wealthy and powerful woman in her own right."

  "That's true enough." Rosie frowned.

  "Eleanor loved Ethan. And I thought he loved her."

  "He was torn. He loved both of us. That's why I didn't want him to know about Alex. It doesn't seem fair that the choices Ethan and I made as kids could so totally mess up our lives today."

  "Choices have a way of doing that," Helen murmured. "Especially poor ones."

  Rosie closed her eyes and rested her head against the seat, seeming to retreat into herself.

  Helen felt an overwhelming sense of sadness for her friend. Losing Ethan. Finding her son and now facing the fear of losing him again. She concentrated on seeing the road through her fogged-up windshield. She had switched on the defroster earlier, but the glass hadn't completely cleared. A drop of water pooled in a small crack above the visor and dripped onto her leg. She didn't like driving her Thunderbird in the rain anymore. Maybe J.B. was right. She should retire the classic to the garage and get a newer, more reliable car. She could still drive the T-bird in the summer and show it off at antique car shows. Also, she was way overdue for a trip to her mechanic. Jeb had called many times to remind her. She smiled. He loved the car more than she did.

  Helen scanned the gunmetal-gray sky. The day had turned on her. Helen's opportunity to walk in the sun had come and gone while she'd been learning about Rosie's relationship with Ethan and about the son their union had created. Not that she would've had time to walk anyway. It was already three in the afternoon, and she'd agreed to drive Rosie to her car, which was stashed at the Spirit Mountain Casino and Hotel located twenty minutes northeast of Lincoln City. First, however, she intended to connect with Joe. No way was she going to let her friend out of her sight until the sheriff had a chance to talk to her.

  "Did you ever find out what happened to J.B.?" Rosie asked out of the blue.

  "No. And I'm not sure I want to." The question uprooted the anger and hurt she'd been trying to repress most of the day.

  "Uh-oh. What happened?"

  Helen shrugged. "I'm not sure. He left a message on the answering machine. He apologized and said he'd be gone for a few days. I'm supposed to trust him." She went on to explain how she'd called the number he'd called from. She could barely get the words past the lump forming in her throat. "He had lunch yesterday with a woman."

  "Oh, Helen. Do you think? No, he wouldn't."

  "Like Ethan wouldn't."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Rosie, I know you loved the man, but the fact is, he cheated on his wife. No matter how much you whitewash it with romance, he was a jerk."

  Rosie turned to look out her window. "It wasn't like that."

  "Because you're no
t a prostitute? Because you two were lovers in high school?"

  "It was a mistake," Rosie lashed back. "I know it was wrong. I mean adultery is just-just that. I've asked God to forgive me a hundred times since it happened." Tears gathered in her eyes again. "But you know what? I don't think God can forgive me, because I'm glad it happened. I'm glad I had a chance to be with him before he. . .." She lowered her head. "Never mind. I don't expect you to understand."

  Helen sighed. "I do understand, Rosie. More than you know. And I'm sorry. I had no business criticizing you like that. I shouldn't be taking my anger with J.B. out on you."

  "Hey, it's okay. Really. I wish I could tell you not to worry about him." She pulled a soggy tissue out of her pocket and dabbed at her cheeks. "But I can't."

  "I know. Which is why I'm thinking of driving into Portland after I drop you off. I can visit the family and—"

  "Spy on J.B.?"

  "Not spy exactly." It was a bad idea. Helen had already asked Kate to check the hospitals. Now she doubted she had much chance of locating him anyway.

  "You can't do that, Helen. You can't leave me now. Besides, J.B. said he'd be back, didn't he?"

  "You're right. J.B. asked me to trust him, and I suppose that will have to do for now."

  "I think what you really need to do is trust God. No matter what happens, Helen, no matter how it works out. Even if J.B. isn't there for you, God will be."

  Helen puzzled over Rosie's comment. She did trust God. Didn't she?

  As they neared the bridge crossing the Siletz River, Helen spotted two sheriff’s cars and a tow truck turning left onto the Siletz Highway, then driving on past Kernville Steak and Seafood House. The restaurant, one of Helen's favorites, offered great food and a terrific view of the river. But Helen doubted it was the food bringing out half the deputies in Lincoln County. An official truck was launching a patrol boat at the ramp to the west of the restaurant. And another patrol car was parked in the lot. A deputy leaning into his trunk pulled out scuba gear.

  Rosie stretched around, craning her neck. "What's going on?"

  "That's what I'd like to know." Helen drove on past the exit. "I hope it wasn't a boating accident." She considered turning around and going back. It wasn't really her business. The last thing they needed was another curious onlooker.

  Curiosity and the knowledge that, with this much interest shown by the authorities, Joe would be there and she could hand-deliver Rosie caused her to make a U-turn, cross the bridge, and turn toward Kernville, following the curving two-lane road. When she reached a graveled turnout where the tow truck, four patrol cars, and a couple of pickups were parked, Helen stopped about fifty yards from the activity so she wouldn't be in the way.

  Joe, Stephanie, and Tom stood near the water's edge talking to a man in a khaki canvas vest, heavy flannel shirt, and jeans.

  "M-maybe I should stay here." Rosie leaned forward, clasping her knees and ducking down. "I'm not sure I'm ready to see Joe right now. Besides, he's busy."

  "Suit yourself." Helen grabbed her keys out of the ignition. "I'm going over for a closer look." She climbed out of the car, noting the black skid marks on the road and how they angled toward the river.

  The tow-truck operator, a man built like a linebacker, was backing down the incline. Stopping a few feet from the water's edge, he jumped out of his truck and headed over to talk to Joe and the others.

  The patrol boat she'd seen earlier came into view. The pilot cut the engines directly in front of them and dropped anchor. Two deputies in scuba gear disappeared into the water.

  Stephanie spotted her and came up to meet her. "Hi, Mrs. Bradley. What are you doing out here?"

  "I saw the tow truck turn in and the patrol boat. What's going on?"

  "We're not sure just yet. A fisherman spotted what he thought might be a car in the water. We have a couple of divers checking it out now."

  As if on cue, both divers surfaced at the same time. "It's a car, all right," one of them yelled. "Someone's inside."

  "Oh no." Stephanie grimaced.

  Helen's heart about stopped.

  A reverent hush fell over the group of people standing nearby. Another death. A moment of silence.

  "Any idea who it is?" Joe hunched his shoulders against a sudden onslaught of rain.

  "Can't ID," the second diver shouted back. "Water's too stirred up."

  "What about license plates?"

  "Can't see them either. There's mud clear to the back window."

  Joe gave orders to pull the vehicle out of the murky water and mark the area off as a crime scene. Within minutes the scuba divers had connected the winch hook from the tow truck onto the submerged vehicle.

  "Probably some drunk taking the corner too fast," Stephanie said. "I hate this stuff."

  "I know what you mean." Helen looked her way. "Too many senseless deaths."

  They both turned their attention back to the water. The tow- truck operator came out from behind his vehicle. "All set," he called to Tom and Joe. "Should have 'er up in a couple minutes."

  "I'd better get down there." Stephanie left Helen standing alone.

  She shivered as much from the anticipation as the cold. Who would they find drowned in the muddy water?

  "What's happening?" Rosie slipped up beside Helen. "I saw the skid marks."

  "There's a car down there." She then gave Rosie a sidelong glare. "I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to be here. The scuba diver said the driver is still in the car."

  "Oh no. Do they know who it is?"

  Helen shook her head. Water dripped from her hair down her face. Standing out in the rain waiting for them to pull a vehicle out of the drink was the last thing Helen wanted to do at the moment, but she seemed rooted to the spot. Rosie apparently felt the same way.

  The tow truck roared to life. The winch started turning and the submerged vehicle began its ascent from the river. Soon a dark green sports car emerged from the gloomy water.

  Rosie gripped Helen's jacket and buried her head against her shoulder.

  Helen didn't need an explanation for Rosie's behavior. She'd seen the car often enough. It was Ethan's Jaguar.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Rosie sobbed against Helen's shoulder.

  "I know." Helen held her, patting her back and offering words she hoped were comforting. Seeing the car come up like that set off an explosion of grief in Helen as well. It wasn't the car, but the implications. The reality that Ethan was gone forever.

  As the turmoil in Helen's chest settled, she tried to make sense of it. She had no doubt the car belonged to the mayor. The green Jaguar wasn't the only one around, but the vanity license plates with the letters MAYOR-BV were one of a kind. But Ethan's body was in the morgue, so who was in the car? And why? What was the car doing here?

  Joe, who was standing nearby, observed the two women. Irritation flooded his features. He spoke to one of his deputies. Helen was too far away to hear but had no doubt she and Rosie were the subject of their conversation. The grim-faced sheriff and his deputy strode toward them.

  "I see you've found our runaway." Joe gave Rosie a none- too-friendly look.

  "I was staying at my sister's." Rosie raised her head and turned to face him.

  "I need to ask you some questions. But right now, we're tied up. I've asked Officer Grant here to take you to my office."

  Grant took a step toward Rosie. She stepped away. "Am I under arrest?" she asked in a guarded tone.

  "Not at this point," Joe said, "but I don't want to chance your running away again."

  "I won't." She hauled in a ragged breath, sounding weary and defeated. "Can't I just go back to my store?"

  He shook his head. "I'm sorry. You have a lot of questions to answer. You could have valuable information to contribute to our investigation."

  Rosie turned to Helen, her eyes displaying fear. "Should I call a lawyer?"

  Knowing the lawyer was more for Alex's sake than for hers, Helen said, "It might be a good idea."r />
  Rosie nodded. "Why does the deputy have to take me in? Can't you take me?"

  "Go with Officer Grant," Helen counseled. "I'll be along in a few minutes."

  "You'll stay with me when they talk to me about, you know?"

  It hurt to see Rosie so beat down. Helen wanted her vibrant, carefree friend back. The old Rosie seemed lost, and it looked as though the road back would take a long, long time. "I'll be with you all the way."

  Rosie hugged her and whispered, "Don't tell them about Alex being my son yet. Please."

  Helen squeezed her hand as she stepped back, giving her a nod of agreement. "I think it'll be best coming from you."

  Joe and Helen watched the two figures walk up along the shoulder of the two-lane road until they disappeared behind the building. "What did you find out?" Joe asked.

  "It's a long story. Best to let her tell it."

  He looked irritated again. For a moment she thought he would press her for details. Water formed rivulets that dripped onto his highly polished black shoes. "How do you do it, Helen? Do you have some sort of built-in radar or something?"

  "Do what?"

  "You find Ethan's body. You already knew he was missing. You find Rosie while we've got people searching every nook and cranny, and now you're here. How did you figure out where Ethan's car would turn up?"

  "I had no idea his car would be here. I was driving home and spotted the patrol cars. I wasn't even going to stop, but when I saw the tow truck, I had to know." Helen turned back toward the car, now fully on shore. Water drained from the vehicle, settling in pools and running back into the river.

  Apparently satisfied with Helen's answers, Joe's annoyance faded. He seemed more than willing to share information. "A fisherman snagged a good-sized salmon this morning. As he was reeling it in, his boat drifted over the car. He couldn't see much more than a shadow. He noticed the tire tracks on the bank and gave us a call." Joe started walking toward the river.