by Rebecca Deel
“I don’t understand it.” He ran his hands through his hair, leaving the brown strands rumpled. “What was so important that she’d go to a deserted area in the middle of the night? She didn’t like to leave the house after dark.”
Not since the rape two years ago. “I’m sorry, Ty. I don’t have answers for you.”
The muscles in his cheek twitched. “Don’t have them or won’t give them?”
Meg stiffened. “I told Ethan and Rod as much as I can. They will uncover the killer.”
“I think you’re holding out information. Are you trying to boost the Gazette’s circulation by dribbling out facts? I’ll bet Sherri’s murder will sell a lot of papers for you.”
Meg’s face flamed at the acid overtone in Ty’s words. “I’m not trying to profit from her death. I have a responsibility to Otter Creek to report the news, both good and bad. I won’t apologize for doing my job, Ty.”
“So you sensationalize her murder and get away with calling it news.”
Blood drained from Meg’s face. She knew Ty harbored some resentment against her because of an article about his affair with a student, but not to the extent revealed by his body language and voice. Hard to miss the hatred hanging over the room. “The people of Otter Creek need to know the truth.”
“The truth?” Ty’s fists clenched. “The truth is the murderer should have done us all a favor and killed you instead of my wife.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“What’s going on?” Rod stepped through the doorway into the mansion’s library, his gaze shifting from Meg to Tyler Drake. Tension electrified the silent room.
“Meg was just leaving.”
She stood and picked up her bag. “What are your plans regarding The Haven?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead.” Ty stalked to the window and gazed at the late afternoon sun. “Goodbye, Meg.”
The words, body language, attitude, all of it sounded final. Rod’s eyes narrowed. What had caused the bad blood between Megan Cahill and Tyler Drake?
After excusing himself for a moment, Rod followed Meg into the hallway. He caught up to her near the front door and grasped her arm to keep her from leaving. “Are you out of your mind?” he snapped.
The muscles in her arm tensed. “Not lately. The way my luck is running, though, it’s a distinct possibility.”
“What are you trying to do? Hang a target on your back?”
She jerked her arm free, glaring at him. “My job, Detective.”
“Stirring up trouble?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe incite a killer? He’s already tried to take you out today.”
“I need information about The Haven for my editorial. Who better to get the information from than Ty?”
“Ever heard of a phone, Cahill?”
Meg moved in close and pointed her bandaged finger at him. “You know as well as I do how much more you pick up in face-to-face interviews, Kelter.” She scowled. “Besides, he hung up on me.” She turned away from him and opened the door.
“So you bulldozed your way in here?”
“I asked the maid nicely to take me to Ty.”
“What’s the deal between you two?”
“Later. Ty’s waiting for you and I have a paper to put to bed in a few hours.” She walked out, slamming the door behind her.
Rod rubbed his face with his hands, teeth clenched. Megan Cahill had to be one of the most infuriating women on the planet. And one of the most beautiful. Man, he needed to get out in the dating scene more.
He returned to the library, gave a perfunctory knock on the door and stepped inside. Ty hadn’t moved from his place at the window.
“I’m sorry about Sherri, Ty.”
Turning from the window, Ty waved Rod to one of the leather armchairs in front of the fireplace and sat in the other. “Does it ever get any easier?”
Rod almost groaned. He was the last person to ask for advice about healing from the loss of a loved one. Some mornings he still thought he smelled Erin cooking breakfast and heard Kayla running through the house on her bare feet. “Eventually.” He pulled out a notepad and pen.
“So, I guess you aren’t here as a friend.”
“I’m here as a friend and a cop. I understand you were out of town last week.”
Ty nodded. “Computer programming seminars down in Pensacola.”
“How long were you there?”
“Drove down last Monday and came back Sunday, late.”
“Long drive. Why didn’t you fly?”
Ty shrugged. “Needed some time to think.”
“About?”
“Life. Politics. Whatever.”
Rod resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Too bad it wasn’t possible to subpoena thoughts. “What time did you discover Sherri was gone?”
Ty stared into the dancing flames, his expression sober. “About four o’clock.”
Rod nodded and made the notation on his pad. The time fit with the timeline Meg had given him. “When did you talk to her last?”
“Saturday night after a business meeting, around 11 o’clock.”
“Did she act as if anything was bothering her?” Rod held his pen suspended over his notepad.
Ty dragged his gaze from the flames and shook his head. “She was fine. Talked about going to her church Sunday, then meeting with the garden group she belonged to in the afternoon.”
“Did Sherri mention anyone by name last week when you called?”
“Just Dad and Kyle. We didn’t know they were coming back to town.” His eyes narrowed. “She also mentioned Meg.”
“How did she like living here in the mansion with the Senator and your brother?”
“She didn’t mind. They were gone most of the time anyway.”
“Did she want a home of her own?” Most women would. Erin had hated living in the same house with his parents the first few months of their marriage. The alternative, though, had been living alone all week in a strange city while he trained at the police academy and came home on weekends. Not the best option for newlyweds.
“Look, Rod, Sherri loved my father, and he needed a hostess for fundraisers. You know he hasn’t been serious about any woman since Mom died.”
“She could have been a hostess for him and still had her own home.”
“I would have bought us a separate house if she’d asked for it, but she didn’t. Sherri loved this place, especially the gardens. She said the grounds were perfect for the type of gardens she’d always wanted to design.”
“Did she get along with your father and your brother?”
Ty froze. “Are you insinuating one of them killed her? That’s crazy.”
“I’m not insinuating anything. I’m asking questions I need answered. Did Sherri get along with your family?”
The agitated husband jumped to his feet and paced in front of the fire. “Of course she did. She had nothing but good things to say about Dad.”
“What about Kyle?”
He sighed. “Same. Look, you’re wasting time, Rod. You’re supposed to find Sherri’s killer, not interrogate me about my family.”
“How long were you married?”
Ty pulled up short and swung around. “Seventeen years. Why?”
Rod paused. “Have any recent tensions in your marriage?”
“What kind of question is that? It’s none of your business. You might have been close friends with Kyle in school, but that doesn’t give you the right to ask personal questions.”
Rod rose, wary of the volatile emotion surging through his friend. “As the lead investigator in your wife’s murder, I’ll ask any question necessary to capture her killer. There aren’t any secrets in a murder investigation. So tell me what I want to know or I’ll find out from other sources.” He waited a moment. “I’d rather get the information from you.”
Ty dropped into the leather armchair again. “Sherri was the most loving, incredible woman I’ve ever known; she almost sparkled.” When his voice grew thick, Ty paused
, wiping moisture from his eyes. “Until two years ago.”
“The rape.”
He nodded. “She was never the same after that. Afraid of the dark, not wanting to leave the house after sunset unless I was with her. I loved her, more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life, but it wasn’t enough.”
“What do you mean, it wasn’t enough?”
“She became obsessed with The Haven.”
“Obsessed?”
“What would you call it when someone spends more time working on plans for a charity to help abused women and kids than with her own husband?”
Rod studied his friend for a moment. “Focused?”
Ty snorted. “She was obsessed, Rod. Night and day. No time for me. No time for anything except The Haven. Does that sound normal to you?”
“Sounds like she poured her frustration and fear from the rape into helping other victims of violence. Do you know of anyone who wanted to hurt Sherri?”
Ty shook his head.
“Sherri didn’t work a regular job?”
“No. She worked occasionally with a landscaper to design gardens for her clients. Nita’s Landscape Design.”
Rod wrote down the name and slipped the notepad into his pocket. “That’s all for now. Is the Senator home?”
A wry smile curved Ty’s lips. “He’s in a meeting at the Otter Creek Town Hall.”
Pausing at the door, Rod said, “By the way, does your family still use monogrammed buttons?”
“Sure. Sherri didn’t, though. She said they were too heavy.” Speculation lit Ty’s gaze. “Why?”
Meg bit another corner off the chicken salad sandwich Serena had brought her. She chewed and read Zoe’s article on the mayor’s Christmas party, editing as she read.
Finished, she opened the article file on her computer and entered the changes. Zoe’s writing had improved in the last three months as she became more adept at using active verbs and vivid descriptions. If the Gazette’s circulation increased, Meg could promote her to full-time journalist and hire a part-time receptionist.
She grabbed Zoe’s article and laid it on her desk. “Good job on this, Zoe.”
The girl glanced at the changes and grinned. “Not as much blood this time, Boss.”
“Kill those unnecessary adverbs and adjectives and we might save money on red ink pens.”
Zoe looked hopeful. “Enough for me to write full time and ditch the phones?”
“Maybe in the spring.”
“Yes!”
“If circulation goes up and stays up. We can’t count the surge we’ll see from the murder.”
“No worries, Boss.” Zoe waved her hand as if brushing aside Meg’s conservatism. “Once people see the quality we provide to the community, they’ll want to keep receiving that service.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Ms. Rollins called a few minutes ago. She’s coming in with the Drake murder article.”
Relief washed over Meg. She figured she could count on Ruth to meet the deadline, but a good editor always had a backup plan just in case. And the backup plan was her under a pen name. She was glad she didn’t have to use it this time. “Send her back when she arrives.”
Returning to her desk, Meg opened the two letters to the editor which arrived in the morning mail. Mrs. Anderson complained again about the library hours not being long enough. Meg whole-heartedly agreed with her. Then again, few people in town kept her weird hours, except maybe law enforcement.
Rod’s schedule was as erratic as the policemen in her family, though he seemed to be at every major crime or accident scene the paper covered. She knew he couldn’t be at all of them because she’d heard Nick talking to Ethan about taking some of the investigative load off Rod’s shoulders.
So maybe he didn’t work every crime or accident scene. Maybe she had noticed the handsome red-haired cop more in the last few months. She scowled. The last thing she needed in her life was another cop. And if that wasn’t enough of a deterrent to her interest, he still mourned the death of his wife and daughter. Hard to compete with ghosts.
“What caused that look?” Ruth Rollins settled in the chair across from Meg’s desk.
“Do you know if Rod’s dating anyone?” Meg closed her eyes and hung her head as Ruth laughed at her. Why didn’t she ever think about how words sounded before they flew out of her mouth? She ought to take out an ad in the paper and ask him for a date, get the humiliation over with now.
“Is there a reason for the interest?”
“Just curious, that’s all.” Heat rose in her cheeks as she opened her eyes. “I’ve seen him around a lot recently and never noticed one woman in particular.”
Ruth grinned. “He was seeing one of the female officers for a while, but she moved on to another police force to be near her family. There’s been no one for several months.” Her blue eyes twinkled. “Should I put a bug in Ethan’s ear?”
“No.” Meg shifted in her seat. “So, how did the article turn out?”
“Duck and run, huh?”
“Ruth.”
“Oh, all right, I’ll stop torturing you.” She pulled the article and flash drive from her tote and handed them to Meg. “The article is a few words shy of the word limit. I hope that’s okay.”
“Okay?” Meg grinned. “I may cut my own salary to hire you permanently.”
“Don’t start planning bread and water rations just yet. You haven’t read the article. I’ll stay while you edit. Is there something else for me to work on in the meantime?”
“I still need copy for the proposed new water system. Want to play phone tag with the town council?”
“Sure.”
“Great. There’s a phone and computer on the desk across from Zoe’s. Work there as long as you want.”
With Ruth settled at the desk, Meg closed her office door and read the article, wisps of memory floating into her mind as she read. Sherri’s grip on her arm. Her scream. The fear on her face. The sound of their feet as they fled. The running footsteps of their pursuer.
Meg drew in a shaky breath and dashed away the tears gathering in her eyes. Not now. She didn’t have time to deal with the memories until after the press run tonight. She needed a clear mind, focused. Deadlines didn’t wait for mental glitches and nightmare memories to disappear.
She plucked her red pen off the desktop and forced herself to see the article as an editor, not a participant or victim. She trimmed a few words here and there, moved a couple of paragraphs to the end of the article, then downloaded Ruth’s file from her flash drive and entered the changes.
She read through it once more, printed a copy and took the original and edited versions to Ruth.
“Well, what did you think?” Ruth asked.
Meg grinned at the older woman’s flushed face. The Christie award-winning author looked nervous. “How large of a name plate should I order for your desk?”
The tense look on her face vanished. “It was all right?”
“I should have hired you sooner.” Meg turned both copies of the article around and laid them on the desk so Ruth could see the difference. “I cut a few words, most of it descriptions. We’ll save that for the filler articles. The biggest change I made was simply to move the background information paragraphs to the end. When you write for newspapers, put the important information on the front page above the fold. Background information to complete the article is on the inside.”
Ruth scanned the edited version. “There’s not much difference.”
Meg chuckled. “No, ma’am. You did a great job, Ruth. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you had some experience in journalism.” She tilted her head. “Would you be interested in doing some freelance writing for me on a permanent basis?”
“Let me think about it. This article wasn’t hard to write because you gave me all the information I needed. I’m not sure about doing them continually if I have to do the research for those along with writing my novels.”
“Don’t sell
yourself short. I didn’t give you all the information included in the article.” Meg’s lips curved. “You cornered Ethan or Rod, didn’t you?”
“Ethan owes me a few favors.”
Meg laughed. “I’ll bet. How many council members talked to you?”
“Only two.” Ruth grimaced. “The others are in meetings or dodging calls.”
“So, what’s the consensus on the water system?”
“Jackson and Hoyt say it’s a done deal, that the vote next week is just a formality.”
“Wait a minute.” Meg dropped into a chair at the side of Ruth’s desk. “You’re telling me the same council that debated for six months on whether to continue opening the library on Sundays is approving this multi-million dollar contract in a span of three weeks?”
“And that’s not all. Neither of the two council members I talked to knew much about the company with the winning bid.”
“Something is up with that. See if you can talk to more council members before 4:00. If not, use what you have.” She stood. “You interested in doing a series of articles on this?”
Ruth grabbed the phone handset. “Absolutely. Will I get a raise?”
Meg laughed and returned to her office. Something was definitely going on with that water contract. But what?
CHAPTER SIX
Rod parked his SUV in the empty slot in front of the Gazette. He climbed out of his vehicle and scanned the deserted street. The back of his neck tingled. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone watched him from the shadows.
His gaze scoured the area, anticipating movement in the darkness. Dead leaves and a few pieces of paper blew in swirls down the street and sidewalk. Nothing else stirred except his breath. The feeling in his feet disappeared from exposure to the sharp wind. Rod eased his hand away from his weapon and entered the well-lit newspaper office.
He checked Megan’s office first. Empty. He pivoted and followed the noise of the press into the back room. Opening the door, he watched the press machinery at work for a few seconds before his gaze sought Meg. After a moment, she glanced up and waved. Meg leaned close to the printer, said something to him and walked to Rod’s side.
