Written in Blood (Otter Creek Book 3)

by Rebecca Deel

  “Want me to pull your driving record?”

  Face flushing, she laid her fork beside her plate and slid out of the booth. “Maybe I should rethink dating a cop.” She strode from the dining room.

  He stood, laughing as she exited the restaurant. It felt good to laugh. Not much to laugh about in the last couple of years. Rod presented the check at the register and paid their tab. Pocketing the change, he wondered at the feelings sweeping through him. Contentment, joy, pleasure at being alive and with Megan.

  He hadn’t felt like this since Erin. He paused, his hand on the outside door, swallowing hard. Was it possible? Could he have fallen in love with Megan? Get a grip, Kelter. You can’t focus on that right now. Too much is at stake. He drew in a breath and stepped into the mid-morning sunshine.

  Rod opened the driver’s side door of the idling Camaro. “I’ll drive. It’s your turn for a nap.” He held out his hand as she started to protest. “No arguments, Cahill. Besides, you’re not the only one who likes fast cars.”

  She climbed out to stand beside him, a smug smile forming on her lips. “Speed limit’s 55 on this road, Kelter.” She sauntered to the passenger side and slid into the seat.

  Rod grinned. He’d have to watch his speed now or face hours of good-natured ragging. After adjusting the seat for his leg length, he drove to the highway and headed toward Kingsport.

  He didn’t want to know what Meg paid for the vehicle, but he had to admit the car handled like a well-oiled racing machine. Smooth ride, leashed power under the hood, quick response. He sighed. A pleasure to drive.

  “What do you think?”

  Rod grinned at her. “Great, except for one thing.”

  Meg stiffened, as if he’d insulted her. “What’s that?”

  “Wrong color. It clashes with my hair.”

  Meg’s laughter filled the car.

  “Meg, wake up. We’re here.”

  She opened her eyes and jerked upright. Meg pushed her hair away from her flaming face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to use your arm as a pillow.”

  “I didn’t mind.”

  His tone brought her gaze up to his. Something about it told her he meant more than he said, but what? A hint of warmth in his eyes, a softness that hadn’t been there earlier.

  Uncomfortable with her own rioting emotions, she turned to study their surroundings. Her jaw dropped. A six room motel? Calling it a motel might be a generous description. A sign in the yard identified the place as the Three Tree Inn.

  Meg unlatched the seatbelt and twisted in her seat, craning her neck. Sure enough, three pine trees stood in the yard along with some kind of bush. While she studied the scene, a black and red rooster strolled from the bush and strutted around the grass.

  She glanced at Rod, eyes wide. “Where are we?”

  “About 30 miles beyond Kingsport, in Virginia.”

  “What are we doing here?”

  “We need some sleep. Neither of us will make it on a two-hour nap and I can’t put you in a hotel on the main highway.”

  Oh, man. Her stomach knotted. She hadn’t thought to check for a tail while driving. “You think someone followed us?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s better to play it safe for now.” He nodded toward the peach wooden structure. “I’ll see if they have adjoining rooms.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “We look elsewhere off the main drag.” He leveled a serious look at her. “I need instant access to your room if there’s a problem. Otherwise, you can trust me to stay on my side of the dividing line.”

  She waved her hand at him, as if brushing off his suggestion of impropriety. “I know I can trust you. That’s never been a question.”

  “Remember that, if circumstances cave in on us, Cahill.”

  While Rod asked for two rooms with a connecting door at the motel office, Meg wandered around the yard, camera in hand. The rooster kept a wary eye on her, but otherwise ignored the human in his territory. She maneuvered herself into a good position and started snapping photos on her digital camera. Proof for her sisters at their next Cahill girls night out.

  If she didn’t know better, she’d suspect the bird of posing. He paraded around the yard and, after checking that she still watched, stretched his neck and crowed. The bird repeated his performance every few feet.

  After obtaining several good shots, she turned her attention to the surrounding area. She frowned. Few businesses or other dwellings occupied the area near the motel. A natural medicine shop, a quilt place. No restaurants, except for an ice cream stand.

  A black pickup cruised by the motel. The bearded man driving the truck stared at her long enough to send a shiver through her body. Had trouble trailed them to the middle of nowhere in Virginia?

  Meg started toward the motel office when Rod exited with two room keys in hand.

  “We’re in luck?”

  “Rooms 5 and 6.” He tossed her one key. “Your palace awaits, my lady.”

  “Promise to slay the dragons in my room? The brown ones with feelers?”

  “As long as they don’t have eight legs, I’m your man.”

  “Terrific. My knight quakes at the sight of spiders.” Ignoring his laughter, Meg shot a glance over her shoulder, scanning the street. No truck in sight, but she couldn’t shake the feeling someone watched them from a distance.

  “Problem?”

  Aside from the fear of waking with a cockroach as a bed buddy? “I guess not.” Her fear was unreasonable. Who could have followed them? They snuck out of town before daylight and she’d taken the long way around town to avoid attracting attention from anyone who might be strolling through Otter Creek’s streets before dawn this morning.

  Meg squelched her uneasiness and headed for the gray-colored door bearing the number six. “Let’s check out the accommodations, Kelter.” She slanted a smile at him. “You’re on deck for roach patrol. Think you’re up to the challenge?”

  She slid the key into the lock and turned. A gust of stale air from the room wafted across her face. Meg stepped inside and wrinkled her nose. The room smelled like the bottom of an ashtray. She walked to the air unit and flipped the switch. After a cursory inspection of the room and beds, she turned on the bathroom light. Torn linoleum and cracked tiles. She sighed. A stop at the store for disinfectant topped the to-do list.

  “I don’t see any extra guests.” Rod leaned against the door jam, watching her. “I know it’s not the Ritz, but can you deal with it for a day or two?”

  Meg stared at the faded checked comforter, distaste growing by the minute. She desperately needed more sleep. The two-hour nap in the car left her sluggish. But the thought of sliding into the sheets on that bed sent a shiver down her spine. Guess that meant she’d be sleeping in her clothes on top of the comforter. She smiled at Rod. “It will be fine.” She would make it work.

  Relief crossed his face. “Great.” Rod unlocked the door connecting to his room, and swung it open.

  Meg glanced inside. His room was a mirror image of hers, except his spread was a solid green. “So what’s the game plan?”

  “I’ll bring in our luggage.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s lunchtime, but I’m not hungry. You need anything?”

  Meg shook her head. “Sleep first, then lunch.”

  Rod tilted his head, a smile curving his mouth. “Should I have coffee available when you wake?”

  She yawned. “Might be wise.”

  Rod waited until he was positive Meg slept before calling Ethan. “Anything new?”

  “The Senator’s sticking to his story.”

  Not surprising. If he believed one of his sons killed the women, Drake would cover for them, especially now that he had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Rod settled back against the bed’s headboard. “What about Ty and Kyle?”

  “Can’t shake Candy’s statement. She insists Ty was with her during the hours we’re interested in.”

  Ty had been with Candy the night after Sherri was killed? “Cold.
Can the neighbors confirm that?”

  “Two noticed his car in the slot next to hers.”

  “What about Kyle?”

  A squeak from Ethan’s chair told him that his boss was leaning back, probably with his feet elevated. “Maid says he came in from the Pond restaurant around 12:00. After that, she went to bed. Her room is at the back of the house, off the kitchen. She says she didn’t hear anything until I woke her ringing the door bell.”

  So no one could confirm the Senator’s alibi or Kyle’s. Rod rubbed his jaw. Stalemate.

  “How’s Meg?”

  “Hanging in like a trooper. I stuffed her with a huge breakfast and she just drifted off to sleep. Figured we both need to sleep a few hours after being up all night. We have an appointment with Mildred Barrett later this afternoon.”

  “Keep me posted. I’ll expect to hear from you in two hours.”

  After ending the call, Rod checked on Meg. Satisfied she was safe, he slid off his shoes and lay on the bed, his gun within easy reach. He jammed the pillow under his neck and let his muscles go lax. Maybe they’d catch a break with the lawyer’s secretary. He had a feeling they were going to need one.

  Meg surfaced from a deep sleep to the crow of the rooster. She groaned and rolled over, squinting at her watch. She drew in a deep breath. Her nose twitched. Coffee?

  Following the tantalizing scent, she located the steaming source on the nightstand. She sipped the hot liquid and closed her eyes. Not just coffee. Rod had brought her a mocha latte.

  When she finished half the cup, Meg tapped on their adjoining door and stuck her head around the door jam. “Did you get any rest?”

  Rod slid his arms into the sleeves of his jacket. “Some. Ethan says to stay out of trouble.”

  “Any progress?”

  He shook his head. “Do you want to see Mildred or eat first?”

  “Mildred. We can grab a bite after we find out if she knows anything that might help.”

  Rod held out his hand. “Keys?”

  Meg scowled. “Hey, those are my wheels. Who said you could drive?”

  “You’re navigating.”

  “Maybe I can’t read maps.”

  He laughed. “Get real, Cahill. You’re not Madison.”

  “Why can’t I drive?”

  “Virginia police pay attention to speed. I’m not putting up with Ethan ragging on me for letting you get another ticket for speeding.”

  Grumbling, Meg dug her keys from her pocket and tossed them in his direction. “My choice on dinner, then, and you’re paying.”

  He grinned. “It’s got to be cheaper than paying a speeding fine.”

  An hour later, Meg dropped the map and surveyed the two-story brick facility at the edge of the parking lot. “She’s on the second floor, room 231. We have to sign in at the front desk first.”

  Inside the building, the desk attendant glanced at their signatures. “Ms. Barrett is expecting you. Just go on up. Elevator’s to your left, stairs to your right.”

  Opting for the stairs, they emerged onto a white-tiled corridor with eggshell-colored walls. Meg glanced in some of the rooms as she and Rod walked down the hall, searching for Mildred’s room. In many rooms, televisions flickered, the sound of movies and game shows drifting into the hall. In others, residents slept or visited with family or other residents.

  About half-way down the long corridor, Rod pointed out Mildred’s door. Meg knocked briskly on the open door.

  “Come in, my dear.”

  The cheerful room was decorated with many different kinds of quilts with one in progress on a round quilting hoop. The colors and patterns dazzled her eyes after seeing so much dreariness in the assisted living facility.

  “Wow.” Meg moved closer to examine one quilt in different shades of purple and green. “This is gorgeous. Did you make these, Ms. Barrett?”

  “Keeps my hands busy. You must be Megan Cahill.”

  Meg dragged her attention from the quilt and focused on the object of her visit. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you for seeing us this afternoon. This is my friend, Rod Kelter.”

  Rod shook her hand. “You’re quite the artist, Ms. Barrett.”

  The elderly lady laughed. “And you’re a flatterer, Mr. Kelter. Please, both of you, have a seat.” She motioned to the two chairs by her window. “I had one of the nurses bring them for you. Now, how can I help you?” She turned to Rod. “Maeve mentioned that you work for the police.”

  “Yes, ma’am. We’d like to ask you about an old adoption case your employer handled.”

  Mildred’s brow furrowed. “We handled a lot of adoptions. They’re all a blur now. I don’t know if I’ll remember any specific case.”

  “This one involved Senator Warren Drake,” Meg said.

  The old lady laughed. “You’ll have to be more specific than that, dear. Senator Drake involved himself in a lot of adoptions over the years.”

  Rod sat forward on his chair. “What do you mean?”

  “Didn’t you know? The Senator orchestrated hundreds of adoptions.”

  “How?”

  “Well, I don’t know all the specifics, but it had something to do with his travels abroad for the Senate.” She shrugged. “When he returned from overseas trips, he brought another list of children available for adoption by parents here in the States.”

  “Your office kept records of these adoptions?” Meg asked.

  “Of course, but the adoption records are sealed, you know. Arnie’s son has them. Is there one adoption in particular you were interested in?”

  “Drake’s son, Ty.”

  Mildred nodded. “Ah, yes. The first adoption. You know, that one was the only adoption of a child born in the US.”

  Rod reached for Mildred’s hand. “Ms. Barrett, I’m investigating the murder of Sherri Drake, Ty’s wife. Some questions have arisen regarding Ty’s adoption. Is there any way you can help me get the information I need?”

  She sat in silence a moment. “I don’t have access to official records.”

  “What about unofficial ones?” Meg asked. “Appointment books, maybe.”

  “Oh, yes.” Mildred smiled. “I kept all Arnie’s calendars and appointment books. Willis was going to throw all of it away after his father died.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t let him do that. It just didn’t seem right. I boxed them up and brought them home for safe keeping. Filled three boxes.”

  Meg glanced around the room. Almost no closet space. She figured the boxes weren’t here. Were they with her daughter? “Where are they, Ms. Barrett?”

  “I left them with my daughter.” She waved her hand. “As you can see, I don’t have much room here for anything but my quilting.”

  “Would it be possible for us to look at those appointment books, Ms. Barrett?” Rod asked.

  “I suppose that will be fine. No one’s asked for them in years.” She looked at Meg. “My cell phone’s behind you on the table, dear. Would you mind handing it to me?”

  Meg turned and grasped the black cell phone. Her eyebrow rose. “Nice phone.”

  Mildred laughed. “My grandson, Robbie, provides it for me. He insisted I have a phone in case of emergencies.” She dialed her daughter’s number and arranged for them to have access to the garage.

  Rod stood. “Thanks for your help, Ms. Barrett.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

  She blushed. “I’m glad I could help.” She smiled at Meg. “Pick out one of the quilts and take it with you, dear.”

  Meg’s eyes widened. “Oh, Ms. Barrett, I couldn’t do that. I’m sure your family must want these.”

  Mildred shook her head, eyes twinkling. “They all have two or more of my quilts. They would be quite happy for someone else to inherit some of my handiwork. Go ahead, dear. Choose your favorite and take it with you.”

  Meg studied each for a minute, but finally walked to the purple and green quilt that caught her attention when she first entered the room. “May I take this one?”

  “Of course. Wonderf
ul choice, dear. When are you getting married?”

  Meg laid the quilt over her arm and turned. “Married?”

  “That’s a double ring pattern, usually given to newlyweds.”

  She grinned. “I guess I’ll have to save it for later.”

  Mildred cast a speculative glance at Rod, who shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “Maybe not too much later. Send me an invitation to the wedding. I’ll begin work on something just for you.”

  She gave the older woman a hug. “You are an amazing lady. I’m so glad I met you. Will you let me come back and interview you for the paper?”

  “Interview me? Whatever for?”

  “Your quilts. Otter Creek’s a small town. We have several folk artists in our community who would love to read about your designs and quilt patterns. I’ll bring a camera and we can do a photo spread. Are you game?”

  Mildred smiled, pleasure shining in her eyes. “Sounds like fun.”

  “Great.” Meg pulled out her cell phone. “Give me your cell number. I’ll call next week and set up a time with you.” After Meg entered the number in her phone list, she and Rod said good-bye and left.

  In the car, Rod said, “Want to stop for a bite to eat before we drive to the Westerman home?”

  “Sure. Let’s see if we can find someplace with wireless Internet connection. I’d like to check my e-mail.”

  Minutes later, Meg powered up her laptop in a coffee house and bit into her chicken sandwich. She wrinkled her nose. “Not as good as Serena’s.”

  Rod chuckled. “I don’t know of anyone’s cooking that is as good as your sister’s.”

  “You need to come to Mom and Dad’s for dinner when they return from Hawaii. Mom’s the only cook I know who comes close.”

  “I’d like that.”

  Meg opened her e-mail program and scrolled through the list of messages. “Hey, here’s one from Serena.” She clicked on the message and scanned it. “She says Kyle dropped by the newspaper office this morning.”

  Rod frowned. “How does she know about that?”

  Meg scanned further, her appetite dwindling as she read. “She worked in my office today.” She glanced up. “Serena wanted people to think I was still in town, working.”