Braden joined her at the wall. "Here you are," he said, pointing to a picture of her with her parents. It was a candid shot taken in the very same living room in which they were standing. There was a Christmas tree in the background, and she was obviously opening one of her presents. Her mother and father were sitting next to each other, and her dad had his arm around her mother's shoulder. They were watching her and smiling. A sudden, sharp pain ran through her.
Braden slipped his arm around her waist. "You, okay?"
"They look happy."
"They do," he said in a neutral voice.
"How can love turn to hate?"
"I don't know, Alexa. Maybe they just didn't fight to stay in love."
"We didn't fight to stay together, either," she said.
He frowned. "Don't compare us to them. That's your fear talking."
"Don't you have fear? You're just getting out of a marriage. You said you jumped too fast with Kinley. Don't you worry that you could be doing the same thing with me?"
"Our relationship has not been based on speed, Alexa. We've known each other since we were kids."
"No, we knew each other when we were children and we know each other now, but the time in between we were strangers," she corrected.
"It's still different," he said. "Stop looking for problems."
"I can't help it. I feel like us being together again is too good to be true. Is it real? Will it last?"
"Neither life nor love comes with guarantees."
"You're right." She pulled herself together. She would think about their relationship later. Right now, she needed to focus on the present. "I'll get my aunt's mail, and we can go."
The mail drop was in the kitchen, and when she walked into the room she saw a pile of letters on the floor. The mail had obviously been accumulating since her aunt had been taken to the hospital. She picked up the mail and set it on the table. She could at least get rid of the junk before taking everything else to the hospital.
A moment later Braden came into the room with a framed photo in his hand and a frown on his face.
"What's up?" she asked, tossing another credit card offer into the growing junk pile.
"We've been looking at the wrong people," he said cryptically.
"What are you talking about?"
"We've been so focused on who knew Shayla, we forgot to think about who knew Jack." He set the photos down on the table.
In the picture were three people, her aunt Phoebe, Edwin Hayes, and Jack Wellbourne. The photo appeared to have been taken several years ago judging by the clothes.
"Quite a trio," Braden murmured.
She looked up at him in confusion. "I don't get what you're thinking. We already knew that they were friends."
"Jack and Phoebe, yes. Edwin and Phoebe, yes. But not Edwin and Jack. I didn't think about them, and I should have, because the most obvious reason for why the chief didn't do a more thorough investigation into Shayla's death is Jack."
"You think he covered something up for Jack?"
"The chief asked Drew to take me off the case right after I talked to him about the investigation into Shayla's death. That seems like a big coincidence to me." Braden pulled out his phone and brought up the Internet. "I need to find out just how well Jack and Edwin knew each other."
While he searched for more information on his phone, she continued sorting the mail. One letter jumped out at her. She had to read the name on the manila envelope twice before she realized she was indeed holding a letter from Jack to her aunt.
"I wonder if this is the letter she was looking for," she muttered.
"Damn, listen to this," Braden interrupted, caught up in his own search. "Jack Wellbourne and Edwin Hayes grew up together in Seattle. They played on the basketball team in high school. They were lifelong friends. And…" he punched the screen. "They were involved in a car accident in college. Edwin credits Jack for saving his life." He raised his gaze to Alexa. "If Jack saved Edwin's life, then wouldn't it make sense that one day Jack would ask his old buddy to return the favor?"
"I don't know," she said, having trouble keeping up with him, because the envelope in her hand was practically burning her fingers. "But this looks like a letter from Jack to my aunt."
Braden set down his phone. "Open it."
"Really?" she asked doubtfully. "It's not addressed to me."
"I don't think your aunt will mind."
She wasn't completely sure about that, but she couldn't resist seeing what Jack had sent to her aunt. So she hoped Phoebe would forgive her.
Slipping her finger under the seal, she pulled out a piece of paper that on first glance appeared to be a list of names and numbers, and bank deposits of some sort. She handed that to Braden while she opened a smaller envelope with a card inside.
"Dear Phoebe," she read aloud. "I asked my lawyer to send you this letter along with the enclosed information after I passed on. The antiques I promised you are coming in a separate shipment. I debated whether or not to share the truth with you, but you've been a good friend to me, and now I must return the favor. Edwin Hayes is not the man you think he is. He wants to marry you and I know that you're tempted to say yes, but you're too good for him, just as you've always been too good for me. Edwin and I have been partners in too many crimes to count. We furthered each other's ambitions. He wanted power. I wanted money. We got both, but I was smarter than Edwin, I kept track of all our deals. He didn't even realize that until just a short while ago. It was almost funny, really. His face was a picture of surprise when I told him. The details are enclosed. I wasn't sure whether or not I should tell you, but I do love you, and I don’t want you to end up with a man who is not good enough for you. Do with the information what you want. But now I can rest in peace." Alexa set down the letter. "Wow."
Braden met her gaze. "Edwin and Jack were partners in crime," he said.
"He doesn't mention Shayla's death."
"He didn't have to."
"I did not see this coming," she said. "I guess we were on the wrong track with Roberta Wellbourne and Daniel Stone."
"Yes." Braden glanced down at the paper she'd handed him. "This appears to be a list of bank deposits."
"Payoffs?" She sat up straight as the truth hit her in the face. "Do you realize what this means? Edwin knew Jack had evidence against him."
"And the chief was the one who found your aunt," Braden said, following her train of thought.
"Maybe he didn't find her. Maybe he's the one who put her in the hospital." She jumped to her feet. "He's with her now. We have to go."
"He won't hurt her, Alexa. He loves her."
"Based on what Jack said in his letter, I'm not sure he loves anyone but himself."
* * *
Alexa held her breath on the quick trip across town to the hospital. She read Jack's letter again and took a longer look at the evidence he'd presented. It appeared from the notes and the expenses that Jack had been paying Edwin off for years. As she ran down the ledger, her gaze settled on one entry that simply said Shayla.
"It's here," she said to Braden. "I found Shayla's name and next to it is $20K. He paid Edwin off for something."
"Silence or a short investigation," Braden offered.
She flung him a quick glance. "I hope it wasn't for killing her." Her stomach felt sick at the thought of her aunt alone with a possible murderer.
"We don't know that it went that far."
"We don't know that it didn't."
After parking the car, they raced into the hospital and rushed up the stairs to Phoebe's room.
Her aunt looked up in surprise. Edwin Hayes was standing next to her, holding a pillow in his hands.
"What are you doing? Put that down," Alexa said, charging across the room. She grabbed the pillow out of his hands, ignoring his shocked look.
"Alexa, what on earth is going on?" Phoebe asked. "Edwin was just adjusting my pillows."
"Are you sure?" she asked.
"I don't understand," Ph
oebe said in confusion.
"Ask him," she said, tipping her head to Edwin. "Ask him what he knows about Jack and Shayla and the break-in at your shop."
Edwin's face paled, and Alexa could see the truth and guilt in his eyes.
"You know," he said.
"Know what?" Phoebe interrupted. "Someone tell me what is going on."
Alexa put the pillow on the foot of the bed and handed her aunt the envelope. "Jack Wellbourne wrote you a long letter. Is this what you were waiting for?"
Phoebe gave her a confused look. "No, I was waiting for a letter from my friend, Doris. She's supposed to pick me up some art while she's in France." Phoebe turned the letter over in her hands. "You opened this?"
"I'm sorry, but I saw Jack's name and I just couldn’t stop myself." Alexa saw Edwin glance from her to the door, but Braden was standing in the way. There was no way out, and the realization was in the older man's eyes. "This letter is what you were looking for in the antique shop, wasn't it?" she asked him.
Edwin didn't answer, but when Phoebe moved to open the envelope, he held up a hand. "Wait," he said. "Let me tell you in my own words."
"Tell me what?" Phoebe asked.
"You know Jack and I grew up together."
"Yes, of course. He saved your life when you were in college," Phoebe said.
"He did, but that wasn't the whole story."
"Why are you telling me this now?" Phoebe asked, a frown on her face.
"Because if I don't, Jack will tell you – or they will," he replied. "I've made some mistakes, Phoebe."
"Big ones," Alexa put in.
"Yes, big ones," Edwin echoed. "And they all started with Jack and that crash. Will you let me tell you, Phoebe?"
"Of course," she said quietly, setting down the letter.
"Jack was driving drunk, and I was in the passenger seat. I didn't realize how wasted he was until we were on the road. We hadn't been together the whole night, so I had no idea he wasn't okay to drive. He crashed the car, and then he pulled me out of it just before the car caught fire. I would have been dead if it hadn't been for him. He asked me to lie, to say that I was driving. He couldn't afford to get a DUI. He said I owed him, and I couldn't deny that. So I lied. That was the beginning. Then there were more favors, things Jack needed me to do for him. In return, he paid me cash. I didn't make much, and my wife had expensive taste. So it didn't seem like that bad of a bargain."
"What kinds of things were you doing for him?" Phoebe asked.
"Just small stuff in the beginning, fixing a speeding ticket, that kind of thing." Edwin took a breath and then continued. "Then Jack got me the job here in Sand Harbor. He was buying up a lot of real estate, and he pretty much wanted to run this town. He thought it would be good to have me in the department. I liked Sand Harbor. I thought my wife would be happy here, too. But then there were more favors."
He drew in a deep breath. "Jack called me in the middle of the night one August and told me that a woman staying in his house had overdosed. I went over there and found Shayla dead on the bed. Jack swore he hadn't killed her. He showed me her suicide note. I believed him. I knew that Shayla was distraught. I'd spoken to her a few days earlier, trying to get her to move on with her life. I was afraid for her. I could see that Jack's refusal to leave his wife was hitting her hard. But she was furious. She screamed at me."
"You were the person Shayla was fighting with," Alexa interrupted. "Braden and I heard the fight. She threw something at you."
"I didn't know anyone heard our argument," Edwin said.
"We were on the beach," she said.
"Go on," Braden ordered.
Alexa glanced at her aunt, hoping the news wasn't stressing her out too much. "Are you all right?" she asked.
Phoebe nodded, her face pale, but her gaze determined. "I need to hear the rest."
"Jack didn't want Shayla's body found in his house," Edwin said. "He was desperate to get her out of there. If he hadn't been so panicked, if I'd thought for more than five minutes, I would not have agreed to his plan."
"Which was what?" Alexa asked.
"Jack and I took her body out in his boat and dumped her overboard about two miles off shore. We thought it was far enough, but three days later, her body washed up on the beach. It was like she was coming back to taunt us. I had to scramble to tone down the investigation. There was a lot of press here asking questions. But I had to protect Jack, because I had to protect myself. Jack had a lot more on me than just Shayla's death."
"Why didn't the drugs show up in the autopsy?" Braden interjected.
"I made sure they didn't," Edwin said flatly. "And I wasn't the only one who owed Jack a favor."
"Jack had a lot of power," Braden put in.
"And he used it," Edwin replied. He turned back to Phoebe. "I knew that Jack didn't want me to have you. He saw us getting close, and he didn't like it. He had so much more than me, but it was never enough. Last year he asked me to back away. I refused him. It was the first time in a very long time that I'd said no. Part of my bravery came from the fact that he was dying. I didn't think he'd be able to hurt me any more, but right before he passed, he told me he was going to make sure that I never got you, because you were too good for me. When I heard he'd sent you boxes of stuff from the house, I thought he'd sent you the evidence he'd been holding all these years – his insurance, as he liked to call it."
"So you broke into the shop?" Phoebe asked, anger edging her tone.
"Yes, I broke the glass in the door, because I wanted it to look like vandalism. I didn't know you were there, Phoebe. I saw you earlier that night. You didn't say you were going down to the store."
"It was an impulsive decision," Phoebe said.
"You came out of the back room, and I didn't know it was you at first. It was dark. Why didn't you turn on the lights?"
"I was about to, when I saw something bright."
"It was probably my flashlight. I moved forward, and you screamed. You jumped backward, and you hit your head on the counter. There was so much blood. I was afraid you were dead. I called for help, and I held you in my arms until the paramedics came."
"And then you stayed by my side to make sure I didn't remember," Phoebe said harshly.
"No, I stayed by your side to make sure you were all right. I am so, so sorry about what I did. You are the last person I wanted to hurt. I love you, Phoebe."
"I don't even know who you are," she said in bewilderment. "You're a police officer. You're supposed to protect people, not commit crimes."
"You'll know who I am when you read Jack's letter," he told her sadly. "I started down a path I couldn't get off of a very long time ago. I was hoping I could turn things around, begin again with you, especially after Jack died. No one else ever had to know. But he couldn't let me slide. I'm sorry, Phoebe."
"You should have told me, Edwin. You should have just come clean and said something instead of breaking into my shop."
"That was a dumb move. I should have realized that Jack would make sure you got the letter directly and not just by chance."
"If you'd asked me if you could look in the boxes, I would have let you."
"I was afraid you'd find the evidence first. It was self preservation."
Alexa turned around as the door opened. She was surprised to see Drew walk into the room.
"I texted him," Braden explained, answering her unspoken question. "And I've been recording this conversation while you were on speaker," he added, holding up his phone.
"Looks like we have some talking to do, Chief," Drew said heavily.
"Yes," Edwin said, with defeat in his voice. He gave Phoebe one last look. "Is there any chance you won't read that letter?"
"I'm sorry, Edwin," she said with teary regret.
"Okay," he said with a tight nod. "Then I'll say goodbye."
Phoebe didn't answer, and after a moment, Edwin walked out of the room, followed closely by Drew.
Alexa sat down on the bed. "You don't have
to read the letter now. It doesn't say anything that Edwin didn't already tell you. In fact, it says less."
"I wonder what's going to happen to him," Phoebe said.
"He's going to pay for his crimes," Braden said, stepping up to the bed. "It's just too bad that Jack didn't have to pay for his."
"I always knew there was something between those two, something deep and dark," Phoebe said. "That's why I never said yes to either one of them. I was leaning a little in Edwin's direction, but something held me back, and now I know it was his secret. He couldn't let me all the way in, and you can't have love without truth."
"I'm sorry, Aunt Phoebe," Alexa said.
"I'll survive. I'm a tough, old broad," she said with a sigh. She handed Alexa back the letter. "I think you should give this to Drew. I don't need to be involved. I'm moving on. At least, I will be moving on when I can get out of this bed."
"Soon," Alexa promised. She handed Braden the envelope. "Can you take care of this? I want to stay with my aunt for a while."
He nodded. "I'll see you both later."
Phoebe smiled at her after Braden left the room. "He's still sweet on you," she said.
"I'm pretty sweet on him, too," she replied.
"So what happens now?" Phoebe asked.
"That's what I need to figure out."
"Can I make a suggestion?"
"Sure."
"Don't let him go, Alexa. Braden is a good man. But most importantly, he's your man. He always has been."
* * *
Alexa waited for Phoebe to fall asleep and then headed back to the inn. She picked up the genie's bottle and took it down to the beach where she'd first found it. The sun was sinking low in the horizon, the way it had been that last summer day of her youth. She sat down and dug her toes into the sand, gazing out at the horizon.
Phoebe had told her to hang on to Braden, and that's exactly what she wanted to do, but she had to make sure that he wanted to hang on to her. She glanced down at the bottle and smiled. "If you still have any power," she said, "I could still really use that wish."
A man flopped down beside her. Braden. She wasn't really surprised.
"You found me," she said.
"I went by the hospital, the inn, and the antique shop. I figured you'd end up here."
Just a Wish Away Page 19
