Shadow of Suspicion

by Christy Barritt

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sure you are.” Her shoulders slumped even more, as if the burdens she carried overwhelmed her. “Sorry. You didn’t deserve that one.”

  “What happened?” He kept his words soft and light.

  “He survived Afghanistan, only to be killed by a home intruder here in the States. He’d only been home for three weeks when it happened.” Her voice cracked and she finished with a deep gulp of air.

  “I can’t imagine. How long ago did that happen?”

  A new somberness washed over her. “Three years. I was down in Norfolk at the time. I decided to get a fresh start here in Richmond afterward. There were too many memories down there. I had to get away.”

  “Makes sense. How did the two of you meet? A computer programmer and a navy SEAL.”

  “Proof that opposites attract, I suppose. I was actually in my last semester at MIT. I came with some friends down to Virginia Beach. I nearly got pulled out to sea by a riptide. Thankfully, Nate was there with some of his SEAL buddies. We were an unlikely pair, but Nate wasn’t the type who always had to be macho and tough. He liked watching sitcoms and eating popcorn with melted mints at the bottom and playing old-school arcade games. We were inseparable after that. I graduated and got a job down in Norfolk so I could be near him. We got married four months later.”

  “Sounds like a nice story.”

  “Yeah, it is...it was.” She absently rubbed her arms. “I know you probably won’t believe me, but I was actually planning on being at that school banquet with Sarah tomorrow night. I’m incredibly sad that won’t be happening. I’d been so looking forward to it.”

  “You like Sarah?”

  “She’s a great girl. Smart. Curious. Personable.”

  “Let me guess. She reminds you of yourself at that age.”

  A sad smile tugged at her lips. “Actually, she kind of does. It might sound crazy or maybe even expected. I don’t know. But I guess I did see part of myself in her—my old self, at least. I’m not that person anymore.”

  He pulled to a stop in front of her house. It seemed the press hadn’t caught wind of this case because they were surprisingly absent, and, at the moment, all the neighbors were inside their houses. Hopefully that meant no drama. The front door had been temporarily fixed—more to prevent an insurance claim than to be helpful.

  Laney’s hand went to the door handle, and she turned toward him. “Thank you.”

  He nodded toward her house. “I’m going to walk you in.”

  She visibly bristled at his announcement, as if the very idea offended her. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I do,” he insisted. “I need to make sure your door was put back on its hinges and that no one is nosing around your place. Believe me, it happens. No more tragedies today.”

  She seemed to hesitate before nodding. “No more tragedies.”

  They climbed out of the car and started through the dry grass toward the porch.

  At the door, Laney slid her key into the lock and paused, her lungs heaving with what he assumed was anxiety. Inside, there were probably too many bad memories for her. The invasion. The accusations. The interrogation that followed. Besides, the flash bang could shake up the steadiest of personalities.

  “Let me go first,” he said.

  Before she could argue, Mark slipped past her. He kept his hand on his gun as he walked from room to room. This time, he saw the house through different eyes. No longer as a potential suspect’s place, but instead as the residence of someone whose life had been turned upside down.

  He saw pictures on the wall and on the entryway table of Laney with a man whom he presumed to be her deceased husband. He saw the pictures of vacations together. Of Laney in front of the Christmas tree. Of the smiling couple standing in front of a backdrop of autumn-entrenched mountains.

  She appeared to have had, at one time, a full life.

  How did someone go from that to being such a loner? It seemed like a shame.

  Of course, some people might say the same thing about him. He lived for his work. He had ever since his sister disappeared. He’d found it easier to pour all of his time and energy into a single cause than to let his thoughts linger on the tragedy in his life.

  He had let one person in, though. Chrystal. He thought he might find healing in falling in love, but instead all he’d gotten was more heartache. She’d broken his trust just like his stepfather had. He was better off growing old alone than trusting someone else and being disappointed.

  He walked back toward Laney, ready to give her the all clear. Before he could, a gunshot pierced the front window.

  He ran toward Laney and threw her on the ground, praying he wasn’t too late to protect her.

  THREE

  Fear coursed through Laney as she heard glass shatter. As she realized a bullet was being fired. As she felt the detective throw her to the ground. As she quickly acknowledged the fact that someone was shooting at her.

  Had the whole world gone crazy? How had a day that had started so ordinary turned into such a nightmare?

  What she wouldn’t do to turn back time. Not just on today. But to bring Nate back. To feel happy and safe again. To believe the whole world was in front of her.

  But that wasn’t possible.

  Right now, she just had to survive. Take it day by day, moment by moment. That’s how she’d gotten through the last three years.

  Please, Lord, help me. Please.

  “Are you okay?” Detective James yelled over her.

  She could feel his heart pounding into her back. Or was that her heart? She couldn’t tell.

  Laney thought she said yes to his question, but she could hardly hear. Her ears rang. Life seemed to both blur and sharpen around her.

  Another gunshot rang out. More glass shattered. The tension in her chest tightened as anxiety gripped her.

  “Stay here,” Detective James said.

  She didn’t have time to argue. He pushed away from her, his gun drawn, and approached the door.

  Please don’t let him get killed, she silently prayed, her palms pressed into the cool tile floor of her entryway. Shards of glass lay around her, a reminder of the gravity of the situation. Would they make it out of this alive?

  The detective had been a thorn in her side, to say the least. He’d put her through the wringer at the station. Then again, she supposed he was just doing his job. But still, she didn’t want to see him hurt. Especially not after he’d shown a halfway human side of himself in the car.

  When she’d told him about Nate, his compassion had seemed sincere. But could she really trust the man? Or was he just trying to gain her faith in him because he hoped she’d open up about Sarah? If that was his goal, he was in for a rude awakening because she knew nothing.

  “Sol, put the gun down,” Detective James yelled.

  Laney sucked in a quick breath. Sol? Sol was shooting at her? Had the man lost his mind? Is that what grief and worry did to a person?

  Laney knew the answer to that question: yes, it did. Grief could tear a person’s heart in half and make them act erratically. Make them feel crazy, off balance, like they didn’t care about anything while overly caring about everything.

  “You released Laney. She took my daughter,” Sol called from a far distance. “She’ll get justice one way or another. I’ll make sure of that.”

  “Shooting her would do no good. It won’t help you find your Sarah,” Detective James shouted, peering beyond the door frame. He was pressed against the wall, looking strong and capable with a gun in hand and wearing a black leather coat.

  He could easily pass for one of those larger-than-life detectives on TV.

  Laney shook her head. Where had those thoughts come from? And why now of all times?

  �
�She needs to pay,” Sol shouted.

  “Let the law be the judge of that. If she’s guilty, we’ll find evidence to nail her. She’ll be behind bars for life. Shooting her would be too easy.”

  Gee, thanks, she wanted to mutter. But if the detective’s words saved her life, then so be it. Laney would clear her name herself if she had to. But she was never going to be able to do that under these circumstances. Here, she was a target. Her life was on the line. In fact, if the detective hadn’t been there, that bullet could have taken her out.

  She couldn’t stay there tonight, she realized. It was too dangerous. But where would she go? She had no coworkers or family. Even church...though she attended each Sunday, she always slipped in late and left early. She was the poster woman for being reclusive lately.

  Nate wouldn’t have wanted this.

  But it was too late to make any changes at the moment.

  Detective James was on his radio, calling for backup, she realized. This situation could easily escalate and someone could end up hurt...or worse.

  She felt frozen, though, unable to move from her spot on the floor. Too afraid to breathe even. She’d be dead right now if the detective wasn’t with her.

  But if Sol really thought she took Sarah, why would he try to kill her? Then he might not ever find his daughter. The man was acting irrationally. Come to think of it, he’d seemed distracted this morning, as well. Did he know more than he was letting on?

  Her thoughts raced, as if playing in fast-forward. Who could have taken Sarah? Laney had no idea. In those quiet moments in the integration room, that’s all she’d thought about. But she’d drawn no conclusions. She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt the girl.

  Please, let this be a misunderstanding.

  What if Sarah had run away? Maybe she’d never been abducted at all. There could be a logical explanation for all of this. Would the police ever see that, though?

  “Sol, we need you to put the gun down,” Detective James called, still pressed against the wall. “Can you do that for me?”

  “You’re only going to let her go.”

  “We’re going to keep investigating,” he said. “We’re not done yet.”

  Just then, red and blue lights flashed in the front yard. Backup had arrived, Laney realized.

  A moment later, amidst the yelling outside, Detective James lowered his gun and approached her. His eyes were narrow with worry and concern. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded and pushed herself from the ground, mindful of the shards of glass surrounding her. “Yes. Thank you. I... I don’t think I’ll stay here tonight.”

  “Probably a good idea.”

  She wiped her hands together, trying to ignore how badly they were trembling. None of this seemed real—yet it was. “I’m going to go grab some things. A change of clothes and my purse, at least.”

  “I can drive you to wherever you’re going.”

  “You don’t have to do that.” She shook her head, another surge of panic rising in her. She desperately wanted someone to trust, but the detective wasn’t that person. Besides, she needed to be there alone so she could grab her computer—if the police hadn’t gotten it yet. Her work for the past nine months was there. In the wrong hands... She shuddered to think about what would happen if the program she’d developed ended up at the mercy of terrorists.

  Detective James’s gaze assessed her again, his calm demeanor somehow quieting her trembles. “Your hands are shaking badly. I don’t think it’s safe that you get behind the wheel.”

  “But...then I won’t have a car.” She desperately needed some type of control in her life. She felt like everything was being taken away, and so quickly at that.

  “I’ll have one of my guys bring it by later. Sound okay?”

  Hesitantly, she nodded. If she protested too much, she’d probably only look guilty. Besides, she was awfully shaky. There was no need to add “auto accident” to an already horrible day.

  “I guess so. Thank you.”

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, Mark pulled to a stop in front of a nice hotel in an upscale area outside of Richmond. He supposed that he shouldn’t go out of his way for a potential suspect, but she was also potentially innocent. In fact, she was technically innocent until proven guilty. He intended to treat her as such.

  He remembered Captain Hendricks’s instructions to him: get on her good side and keep an eye on her. The captain hoped Laney would let something slip and she’d lead them to Sarah.

  Mark was uncomfortable with deceit. If it could save a life then he was more inclined to justify his actions, though. He knew what it was like to be in Sol’s shoes—to be sick with worry over a loved one’s disappearance. He had to do whatever was necessary to get the girl back.

  Their encounter with Sol still stained his thoughts. The man had been in Laney’s front yard. The other officers had taken his gun and restrained him. But he’d still been able to hurl insults at Laney, calling her every name in the book. Her trembles had returned as he’d walked her to his car.

  Laney glanced at the front door of the hotel and then back at Mark. “What’s going to happen to Sol?”

  “We’re taking him down to the station.”

  Lines of worry appeared at the corners of her eyes. “I don’t want to press charges. He’s just reacting out of grief and anxiety. He doesn’t need any more heartache on top of what he’s already experiencing.”

  Her compassion impressed him, especially considering her situation at the moment. “I’ll make sure to pass that along.”

  “Thank you for bringing me here. I appreciate it.”

  Before she could object again, he opened the door and stepped out. He was walking her inside, whether she liked it or not.

  Almost hesitantly she seemed to step out. He sensed her shivering beside him as they ventured through the brisk winter air. Darkness had long since fallen, adding even more eeriness to an already tense situation. He grabbed her bag from the backseat and walked with her to the front desk.

  “She needs a single,” he told the clerk behind the counter. A table with coffee and cookies waited beside the check-in desk, and the scent of them both made his stomach rumble.

  Lauren had loved chocolate chip cookies. She ate some every night before bed and never gained an ounce. At sixteen, she’d been as skinny as a rail without even trying.

  The memory made his heart pang.

  Laney pulled a credit card from her wallet and slid it across the counter. The police would be tracking all of her financial movements, of course. They were looking for anything that might give them a hint as to what was really going on here. Finances often showed a trail leading to answers.

  With her room key in hand, Mark walked Laney to the second floor of the building and watched as the door to her room clicked open. She turned toward him, trepidation in her gaze. “Thank you... I guess.”

  He understood her dilemma. She owed him thanks for saving her life, but after he’d interrogated and accused her, he could see why she wouldn’t want to express her gratitude. Gratefulness and bitterness collided.

  “Call me if you need anything,” Mark instructed.

  Her big, wide eyes looked up at him. “I don’t have a phone.”

  “Use the hotel phone.”

  She nodded and looped a hair behind her ear. “Of course.”

  “Don’t leave town.”

  “I can’t. I don’t have a car.”

  “We’ll probably have more questions for you.” He felt hesitant to leave—but why? Some kind of instinct urged him to protect her, yet he didn’t want his compassion toward her to cloud his judgment. He had to keep it in check.

  “I wouldn’t expect any less.”

  Finally, he nodded. “Well, good night, then.”

  She se
emed to force a smile. “Good night.”

  She closed the door, and Mark heard the locks click in place. With Laney safe and secure in her room, Mark started back down to his car. He’d scanned the hotel as they’d walked. There appeared to be three major exits. One at the front, one at the back, and one at the side near the pool area. It would be impossible to keep an eye on all three. But Laney’s room was closest to the side exit, so he needed to position himself for the best angle of that door.

  He suspected Laney wouldn’t try anything, that she would stay put for the evening. She probably wouldn’t be getting much rest—she looked too wound up and wired for that. But, just in case she did leave, he parked his car and started his surveillance. And in the meantime, he had his computer with him so he could do more research.

  Out of curiosity, he typed in her name on a search engine. A news article about her husband’s death popped up. He cringed at the details.

  Nate Ryan had been found stabbed in his bedroom. The killer had never been caught, but authorities thought it was a home invasion gone wrong due to some missing jewelry and cash.

  Laney had discovered her husband’s body. He could only imagine how that had messed with her psychological well-being. Every detail of scenes like that would ingrain themselves into the minds of loved ones.

  Mark still vividly remembered the first time he’d been called to the scene of a homicide. Every detail was burned into his mind. Since then, he’d learned to compartmentalize better. But he couldn’t imagine finding a loved one like that.

  It had been hard enough hearing about the murder of a family member. His sister, Lauren, had been abducted by their stepdad. Ralph had denied his involvement for weeks, but Mark had always known the truth. Six months later, Lauren’s body was discovered in the woods by some hunters. She’d been shot. When his stepfather learned she’d been found, he’d quickly realized—maybe because of paranoia or guilt—that he would be a suspect. His solution was to kill himself—and Mark’s mother.

  According to his suicide letter, his stepdad had wanted his mom’s attention all for his own. He and Lauren had been arguing and not seeing eye to eye. His stepdad had decided it would be easier to kill Lauren than it would be to try and work things out.