by B. J Daniels
“No, but you can bet if Walker was asking about it, then the murder weapon was a thirty-eight. And the way things are looking, it will be your gun,” Billy said.
“I didn’t kill her.”
“She bonked your husband.”
Anna flinched at his crudeness.
“Let me honest with you. You’re sitting between a rock and a hard place. You say you can’t remember—”
“I can’t.”
He nodded. “Doesn’t make any difference. No judge or jury is going to believe it.”
“But I’m innocent.”
Billy laughed. “Like no judge or jury has ever heard that before.”
She felt herself flush with frustration. “It’s the truth. I wouldn’t kill my best friend.”
“If it comes to a trial, every juror is going to be sitting there thinking what he or she would do if their best friend had an affair with their spouse while they were in a coma. You’ll never convince them that you didn’t kill her.”
“This is ridiculous,” she snapped. “All we have is Marc’s word that he slept with Gillian.”
Billy raised a brow. “Denial, too? Why would your husband lie?”
“To hurt me.” She looked away. “You have to understand. My husband has been through so much this past year. I was in a car accident that killed our son and left me in a coma for almost six months. Marc didn’t know if I was even going to survive. And then, when I finally did come out of the coma, I didn’t remember anything. I couldn’t remember anything about the accident or even what I was doing out that night with our son.”
“Had Marc been drinking when he came by to see you?”
She started, surprised he’d ask that.
“There are no secrets in Shadow Lake,” Billy said. “So let’s talk about your husband. You still in love with him?”
“No.”
“Then why were you defending him a few minutes ago?”
“He was my son’s father.”
“Is that why you’re still wearing your wedding ring?”
She stared down at her hand, surprised to see it still there. “No.” “Then take it off. It makes you look like you were trying to hang on to him and that you would kill to save your marriage.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Anna looked down at the wedding ring on her left hand. The diamond was large and unfamiliar. When she and Marc had gotten married, he’d given her a small diamond ring. She’d loved that ring, but Marc had insisted he was going to buy her a decent diamond when his business took off. He’d put this ring on her finger when she’d been in the coma.
As she tugged off the ring, she wondered what he’d done with the other ring, the one that had meant something to her.
“This guy break your heart?” Billy asked as he watched her drop the ring onto the top of her nightstand.
“No. Yes. But a long time ago.”
Billy nodded. “It still shows. You look like hell and are clearly hurting. Makes you look guilty.”
“Marc isn’t the reason I’m hurting. I lost my son, and now my best friend. That’s what broke my heart and my spirit. I wasn’t reconciling with Marc.”
“He says you were. It isn’t just his word against yours, either. It’s the way you were dressed that night.”
She traced the path of her scar, then caught herself and folded her hands in her lap. “All I can assume was that I was stunned by his change of heart. But then…”
“What?” he asked.
“When Gillian called, I just have this feeling that whatever she told me on the phone that night, it’s not just the reason I came to Shadow Lake.” She shook her head before meeting the lawyer’s gaze. “It’s the reason I can’t stand the sight of Marc now, the reason I took the gun, the reason I can’t shake the feeling that it has something to do with the Fairbankses and the hit-and-run and my son’s death.”
“That narrows it down.” He studied her openly for a moment. “You’re taking his affair with your best friend awfully well.”
“That’s because I know what the circumstances had to have been, if Marc is even telling the truth. Gillian didn’t like Marc.”
“He’s a pretty good-looking guy, successful, sharp dresser,” Billy said. “What’s not to like? You’re in a coma, she’s always wondered what he would be like and she decides to try him out.”
Anna actually laughed.
“What makes you so sure it didn’t happen that way?”
“Because I told Gillian everything,” she said. “Including what Marc was like in bed. If Gillian slept with him, she wasn’t looking for sexual fulfillment.”
Billy let out a howl of a laugh. “Now we’re getting somewhere. You’re going to have to be dead-on honest with yourself if you hope to sort out this mess. You had a body in your trunk, but what is hurting you most is your husband’s statement that one—” he ticked off on his fingers “—he told you about the affair and you went berserk and two, you threatened to kill Gillian and left in a murderous rage with your gun to go over to her house—which you did. He gave you both motive and opportunity. The guy was divorcing you, but at the last minute didn’t go through with it. Why’d he change his mind, anyway?”
She swallowed, tears burning her eyes at just the thought of the damage Marc had done. “I don’t know. If I told you what I suspect, you’d think I was crazy.”
Billy looked at her and chuckled. “You think Jack Fairbanks saved your life on the bottom of the lake. I already know you have to be crazy.”
“Okay, then it probably won’t hurt to tell you that I think Marc wanted to reconcile to keep me from learning whatever it was Gillian told me that night. And it had nothing to do with his sex life or lack there of. But it’s the reason Gillian is dead.”
Billy let out a low whistle. “You think Marc killed her to shut her up before she could tell you?”
Anna had to admit it had crossed her mind. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“That could explain why he’s trying so hard to get you arrested,” Billy said.
“So what can I do?” she asked.
“Get yourself a high-profile, expensive lawyer.” He glanced toward the diamond ring she’d left on the nightstand. “If you don’t have the money, hock your jewelry. If I were you, I wouldn’t wait.”
“What are my chances if I do that?”
“Well, you have jury sympathy going for you. Life has crapped all over you. You get hurt in a hit-and-run accident, your only child is killed. You’re in a coma for months and when you wake up, your husband wants a divorce. You think it can’t get any worse and bam! Your husband hits you with the ultimate betrayal. Your closest friend since college is bonking your husband. Any juror would feel for you. Hell, nobody should have to go through what you did. But bottom line, they’re going to send you up. They’ve got to because they can’t condone murder. Now if you’d killed your cheating no-account husband, a good lawyer would have had a much better chance of getting you off.”
“Are you trying to comfort me, because if you are it isn’t working.”
“From me, you get honesty. You believe you’re innocent, want to help the police find the real killer, don’t want to look guilty. Well, I’m here to tell you, forget all that. You’re in a hole. Your husband helped dig it. He’ll bury you for whatever his reasons. The best thing you can do is keep your head down, because you look guilty as sin and no matter what you say you’re only going to dig that hole deeper if you aren’t careful.”
She said nothing for a moment. “I don’t understand why Marc would say the things he has.”
“Sure you do. He blames you for his son’s death.”
Was Marc’s motive that transparent that everyone saw it?
“He’s shooting off his mouth to anyone who will listen, telling everyone that you need psychiatric help.”
“But it’s not true.” At least she hoped not.
Billy raised a brow. “Excuse me? You think you saw a dead man at the bottom of the lake.” She started
to protest. “You think that’s not going to be used against you? Like I said, best keep that one under your hat at least until this murder rap is behind you. That means staying clear of the Fairbankses. Mess with the Fairbankses and you’ll get the death penalty.”
“My only hope of finding out who killed Gillian is the Fairbankses,” she said. “It’s the only clue I have.”
He groaned. “How did I know you were going to say that? This scrap of envelope that puts you at the victim’s house,” Blake said. “You say Ruth Fairbanks has it?”
“I showed it to her when I went out there and…she kept it. At least I think she did.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “She said she didn’t have any idea what you were talking about, but she kept the scrap of envelope?”
“I don’t think she was telling me the truth.”
“You think?”
“I’ve been accused of being too trusting.”
He grinned at that. “There are worse faults.” His grin broadened. “The good news is that if people are lying to you, then they have something to hide.”
What did Ruth Fairbanks have to hide? she wondered.
Billy rubbed the back of his neck, studying her.
“I’m perfectly sane,” she said, just in case he was wondering. “There is an explanation for everything that has happened.”
He grinned again. “I’m sure there is. But what if that explanation is that you’re a murderer? You might be better off crazy.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ANNA FELT BETTER AFTER Billy Blake left, but when she saw the expression on Dr. Brubaker’s face when she found him, she could see that he seemed worried.
He’d been standing by the window, the rain-streaked glass reflecting his face. He had appeared to be staring out at the lake, his face etched against the dull light of day. She’d been surprised by his expression. He’d looked as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.
But he smiled as he turned to her, coming to her as if nothing was wrong.
“How are you feeling?” he asked with forced cheerfulness as he walked her back to her room.
“Much better.”
After she’d climbed back into bed, he lifted his stethoscope and leaned toward her. “Take a deep breath for me. Let it out slowly.”
She did as he said, staring up at the ceiling as he listened.
When he finished, he nodded.
“I’m well enough to be released, aren’t I?” she asked suspecting that was part of the concern she saw in his face.
“You know you won’t be able to leave town,” he said.
“She’s not leaving town.”
Startled, they both turned. Anna couldn’t have been more surprised to see the woman standing in the open doorway.
Ruth Fairbanks wore an expensive gray pantsuit with black trim and looked as if she was off for a day of shopping in the big city. “I’d like to speak with Mrs. Collins alone, please.”
Dr. Brubaker looked to Anna. All she could do was nod.
“I came to invite you out to the island,” Ruth Fairbanks said, the moment the doctor left the room.
Anna blinked. Not twenty-four hours ago Ruth Fairbanks was calling the police on her and Jonathan Fairbanks was threatening to have her arrested for trespassing. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s simple enough. As the doctor said, you aren’t going to be allowed to leave town. I’m inviting you to stay with me rather than in one of Shadow Lake’s less than inviting motels. I think you’ll be more comfortable in my home.”
Anna wasn’t so sure about that, based on the reception she’d gotten the last time. “Why would you do this?”
“We need to talk,” Ruth Fairbanks said. “Let me be frank. Apparently it is only a matter of time before you’ll be arrested for murder. I can be a powerful ally.”
Anna stared at her. “Knowing that, you’d still invite me into your home? How can you be sure I’m not a murderer?”
Ruth Fairbanks waved a hand through the air as if that was of no concern to her.
“I’ll need to speak with my lawyer first,” Anna said.
“I’ve already spoken with Mr. Blake. Call him if you like, but I can tell you that he is strongly opposed to it. However, I suggest you take my advice, which is that you would be a fool not to take me up on my offer.” She arched a brow. “From what I’ve seen of you, you are no fool.”
Anna was only a little surprised that Ruth Fairbanks knew she’d talked to Billy Blake. Ruth didn’t seem to know, though, that Anna hadn’t actually hired the lawyer.
She had to wonder what Ruth wanted to talk to her about, but clearly Anna wouldn’t be getting any more out of her here. Nor had Anna forgotten that Ruth had kept the scrap of envelope with “Fairbanks” written on it in Gillian’s distinct scrawl. Also Ruth Fairbanks had seemed to recognize Anna’s name. All leading Anna to believe that she and the woman definitely had something to discuss.
A man appeared at the door, carrying several large shopping bags from several expensive Seattle stores whose names Anna recognized. Ruth Fairbanks turned and motioned him in with an impatient flick of her wrist. He put the bags down and left without a word.
“I took the liberty of purchasing a few items of clothing for you,” Ruth said. “I understand the clothing you were wearing is being held as evidence. So, can I expect you then?”
Anna didn’t know what to say. “Your offer is very kind. I will take you up on it,” she said, meeting the woman’s steel-gray gaze.
“Good. I’ve already cleared it with Judge Gandy since I couldn’t reach Chief Nash. As soon as Dr. Brubaker releases you, a car will be waiting to drive you to the marina where the boat will bring you out to the island. As you can see, I’ve taken care of everything.”
So it seemed.
Without another word, Ruth Fairbanks turned on her heel and left. A moment later, Dr. Brubaker came into the hospital room.
“She wants me to come out to the island,” Anna said, answering his questioning look. “It seems there’s something we have to talk about.”
“I take it you’re considering it then?”
Something in his tone surprised her. “You knew about this.”
“Ruth Fairbanks and I have known each other for years,” he said. “She is the most determined woman I think I have ever known. Also, she wields a lot of power in this state. She could prove a valuable asset—if she was on your side.”
“And if not?” Anna asked, already suspecting the answer.
“She could be very dangerous,” he said bluntly. “But nothing compared to her son Jonathan. Be careful out there.”
Anna told herself that the invitation proved the Fairbankses were why she was in Shadow Lake. Maybe even why Gillian was dead. “You are going to release me, aren’t you? I feel much better and it’s not like a boat ride in the middle of the night.”
He sighed. “You’re well enough to go if you continue to take care of yourself.” He reached into his white lab coat pocket and pulled out a small card and several cinnamon candies. He handed her a candy and the card. “My cell phone number is on the back.” His meaning was clear.
AFTER HIS TRIP TO THE OLD fire pit south of town, Chief Nash had gone home, crawled into bed with his pregnant wife and held her to him to take away the chill that had settled into his old, tired body.
This morning he left Lucinda sleeping peacefully and wandered into the kitchen to make coffee. He decided to have some orange juice and a bowl of cereal instead of skipping breakfast as he usually did.
He had to take better care of himself now that he was going to be a father. It still hadn’t really sunk in, but he loved the thought. Except for the fact that he would be over seventy when his son or daughter graduated from high school.
Mostly, he wanted to make his child proud of him. He wanted to be a good man, an honest man, a fair one. From this day on.
That was one reason he’d had so much trouble getting to sleep last night.
He couldn’t forget what he’d done. Before daylight this morning he’d decided to announce he would be retiring after this case. It was the only thing he could do. He was no longer the kind of cop he wanted to be.
He’d lain awake for hours, his mind circling from Jonathan Fairbanks to that damned bloody car registration and back again. Nash wanted nothing better than to go out to the island and confront the man everyone believed would one day be the president of the United States.
But he’d been a cop long enough to know that the best thing he could do was forget it. If that were possible. He needed to put all his energy into Lucinda and being the best father he could be for their baby.
Unfortunately, this Anna Collins investigation weighed heavily on his mind. His fear, of course, was that exhuming Jack Fairbanks was going to bring everything crashing down not only on the Fairbanks family—but also Lucinda. Jonathan would have been smart enough to conceal that twenty-five thousand in blackmail money he’d given Lucinda. There would be no way to prove anything.
Nash needed insurance that Jonathan could never use Lucinda’s blackmail as leverage against him or their child. Fairbanks had the ability to put Nash in a worse position than he was already in.
Nash wasn’t stupid, though. He knew Jonathan wouldn’t have paid the blackmail demand unless he had something to hide. The cop in him wanted to know why Jonathan had paid Lucinda to keep quiet. It couldn’t have been to hide the fact that Jack had been involved with drugs, something Nash questioned to begin with.
He’d known Jack Fairbanks. He couldn’t see Jack being an addict. His wife, Pet, was another story. Still not blackmail material, though.
No, what Jonathan had to fear was tied to that blood on the car registration.
Nash’s every instinct was to retire as quickly as possible, leave Shadow Lake and go somewhere where no one knew him and Lucinda. The problem was that a man like Jonathan Fairbanks would be able to find them, no matter where they went.
His cell phone rang and he realized he’d forgotten to turn if off after checking his messages. He snatched it up. “Nash.”
