by Mallory Kane
“Deputy, what’s on your agenda this morning?” Zane interrupted before Burns could come back with a crude remark.
“I reckon I’ll check with the lab on those prints we lifted, and finish processing the stiff’s—beg your pardon, ma’am—the victim’s belongings.” Burns paused, looking at Anna and Zane. He frowned. “Why? What’s going on?”
Zane wasn’t about to tell Burns about Anna’s attack. He didn’t want anyone to know about that. It could be a useful piece of information to hold back, to see if anyone in town mentioned it on their own.
“I need you to drive into Dallas this morning, to the Department of Archives and History, and pick up the case files on Lou Ann Wallace Hendricks and Justin Hendricks.”
“Justin Hendricks?” Burns looked bewildered for a few seconds, before recognition dawned. “I remember now. Donna’s kid. The little boy who went missing back then.”
“Right. Now get going. I need those files this morning.”
Deputy Burns gave Anna one more leering look, then touched the brim of his hat. “Yes, sir, boss. I’m on my way.”
Burns left with a clanging of the cowbell over the door.
Zane met Anna’s gaze. “The deputies have keys. I apologize. That won’t happen again.”
Anna’s legs weren’t doing their job. They were trembling, just like the rest of her. She sank down onto the couch. Zane’s kiss had rocked her world. She’d had boyfriends, even a couple of semi-long-term relationships, but she’d never been kissed like that.
“Are you all right?” Zane asked, looking at her quizzically.
She nodded and swallowed. “Fine. I’m fine. I guess I was more affected by the attack than I realized.” What else could she say? She couldn’t tell him that his kiss had left her a dozen times more shaken than last night’s attack.
And what did that reaction say about her? Deadly attacker. Deadly kiss. Boy, were her priorities mixed up.
Zane’s brows lowered and his stormy-blue eyes assessed her. She could read his mind. He filed away her odd reaction and got back to business.
“I’m going to question Leland and Rosa this morning, and go over the case files from Lou Ann’s murder and Justin Hendricks’s disappearance. What are you going to do?”
A wave of grief washed over her. She had obligations she had to take care of. “I’ve got to make arrangements for Sarah. Do you know when—”
“I’ll call Jon. The autopsy should be done by now. I’ll have him call you with the information.”
She stood. “Then I guess I’ll go back to my room and clean up.”
He nodded, stepping back, out of her way. “Deputy Spinoza installed swing-bar latches on the inside doors of all the rooms yesterday. Lock the door and throw the latch when you’re in the room. And don’t open it—don’t even peek out with the latch on unless you know exactly who’s there.” He took another step backward. “In fact—don’t open the door to anyone except me.”
His concern warmed her. He seemed worried about her safety—seemed determined to personally ensure that she remain unharmed. She wasn’t used to anyone taking care of her. It felt good. She felt secure, knowing Zane was watching out for her.
She smiled. “I won’t.” Looking up into his eyes, she caught a glimpse of blue fire. It was nearly hidden, but it was there.
She longed to stand on tiptoes and steal another taste of his mouth, but his body language told her whatever had passed between them during that kiss was filed away in an appropriate place in his brain.
Anna knew with a calm certainty that Zane McKinney never mixed business with pleasure. He’d meant what he’d said. It wouldn’t happen again, and that left her with a deep, unfulfilled longing.
ZANE DROVE OUT to Leland’s estate and caught him having breakfast under a canopy beside his pool. He was dressed in gold silk pajamas and a Chinese print robe. He offered to order breakfast for Zane but Zane declined. He did accept a cup of coffee, though.
“Jamaican Blue Mountain,” Leland said. “I have it flown in weekly. Thirty dollars a pound.”
Zane nodded. “It’s good.” Good, but not worth thirty bucks. It looked like Hendricks was living high off Lou Ann and Justin’s insurance money. Zane wondered how long it had taken for the insurance companies to pay off. Obviously, they eventually had.
“I assume you’re not here just to sample my coffee.” Leland grinned, his teeth white against his bronzed skin. Then just as quickly, he grew sober. “How is my stepdaughter?”
Zane’s irritation level flew sky-high. He’d never liked Leland. The man was too slick, too arrogant. And the idea that he would claim Anna as his stepdaughter just so he could appear magnanimous by offering her his help really galled Zane.
“You mean, Annie?” he countered. “She’s fine. Just fine.”
“I do wish she’d accepted my invitation to stay out here with me. I don’t get to see her enough.”
“I suppose you don’t. Not since she moved away sixteen years ago.”
Leland frowned. “I went through a very bad time. If Anna felt neglected, it wasn’t because I didn’t care for her.”
Zane was already tired of listening to Hendricks and his platitudes. “Leland, I need to ask you about your movements Sunday night, the night of the murder.”
“Deputy Spinoza already questioned me.”
Zane ignored him. “For instance, you said you were home alone that evening.”
“That’s right. The staff were off duty, so I made myself a sandwich and watched a movie.”
“But that wasn’t all you did, was it?”
Leland’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Zane set his coffee mug on the table and propped his elbows on his knees. “You called Donna’s diner.”
Zane felt the older man close down. His eyes turned cold, his face hardened.
“Well? Didn’t you?”
“I ordered a piece of pie. Donna’s mother’s pecan pie recipe is sinful, but I didn’t know it was a crime.”
“Who’d you talk to?”
“Give me a break, McKinney. If you know about the pie, you know I talked to Rosa, and you know Donna delivered it to me.”
Zane raised his brows. “I do know that. But you’re leaving out an important detail.”
Leland looked puzzled. “Am I? What detail?”
“The fact that you weren’t at home when Donna got here with the pie.”
“That she-devil is lying. Of course I was home. She drove up, brought the pie to the door and drove off.”
“Can you prove that?”
“Yes. My surveillance system records everything.”
Surveillance system. “Does Donna know about the surveillance system?”
“She’s the one who wanted all those protective measures in the first place.”
“So you have recorded proof that she drove up, gave you the pie and drove away. And that’s all?”
“That’s all.” Leland looked closely at Zane. “Why?” he demanded. “What did Donna say? What did she tell you?”
Zane considered Leland. He seemed genuinely indignant that Zane would question his movements. But Donna had sounded sincere, too. Apparently the two of them were practiced liars, and they’d had years to hone their skills against each other. Their animosity was clouding Zane’s case, and he was sick of both of them.
“Donna said you weren’t home when she delivered the pie. She said she saw you sneaking across your backyard in the direction of the Matheson Inn.”
Leland almost choked on his coffee. He set down his mug and coughed. “You have got to be kidding me. She said that? She’s crazier than I thought she was.”
“Are you telling me it wasn’t you she saw?”
Leland leaned forward. “I’m telling you she didn’t see anybody. The woman’s a nut. And she’s trying to implicate me in Sarah’s murder. Hell, she probably killed her herself.”
Zane sighed, frustrated. “Okay. What time did she deliver your pie?”
&nb
sp; “About seven o’clock. I didn’t look at the clock, but the surveillance disk’ll have that information.”
“Then get me the disk.”
“No problem, Lieutenant.” Leland reached for his cell phone and pressed a button. “Harry, get me the surveillance disk from Sunday night, specifically around seven o’clock. I’m out by the pool.” He disconnected. “Harry will bring the disk right out.”
Zane stood. He was ready to get back to the relative sanity of the police station. He’d had enough of Donna and Leland’s hurtful version of he said, she said. At least now he had concrete evidence. With Leland’s surveillance disk, he’d be able to prove or refute Donna’s claim that Leland wasn’t at home. Although it was odd that Donna would lie if she knew the surveillance disk was recording her every move.
Leland’s employee came toward them, holding a CD case. “Here you go, boss,” he said.
Leland gestured toward Zane, so Harry turned and held out the case to Zane.
“Thanks. Leland, I’ll be talking with you again.”
“No doubt,” Leland said, pouring himself another cup of coffee. “Harry will see you out.”
Zane drove back to the police station and sat at Carley’s desk. He inserted the disk into the DVD player on Carley’s desktop computer.
It looked like the camera was mounted on the security gate into Leland’s estate, and pointed directly at the front door and the circular drive in front of it.
Zane fast-forwarded, watching the time stamp. He stopped it at seven o’clock and let it play in real time, fast-forwarding sporadically, making sure he didn’t miss anything. At just about 7:02 p.m., he saw the front fender of a dark sedan pull into the drive and into the camera’s frame.
Then there was a sharp crack and the screen went black.
“What the—?” Zane pressed reverse and ran that section of the disk again.
Sharp crack. Black screen.
Sharp crack. Black screen.
Had Donna shot out the camera? He couldn’t tell if the noise was a handgun. For that he needed an expert’s opinion. Ejecting the DVD, he put it back in the case. He’d send it to the crime lab in Garland. The graphics expert there was one of the best. If anyone could decipher exactly what had happened, Rick could.
The cowbell over the door rang and Burns walked in, carrying two file boxes.
“Here you go, Lieutenant. The case files you wanted.” He piled them on the desk. “The lab had your trace done, too. I brought it all back. Here’s the crime scene’s lab report.”
“Good. Thanks. I’m glad you’re back, because I’ve got another assignment for you.”
To his credit, Burns didn’t object.
“I need you to run this surveillance disk back to the crime lab.”
Burns scowled as he took the DVD case. “Right now?”
“Right now. It’s from Hendricks’s place. Something knocked out the camera. I want to know what it was.”
“You think Hendricks is the doer?”
Zane shook his head. “I don’t know. But it’s a lead. And I’ve had few enough of those so far.”
Chapter Eight
The funeral director stood and held out his hand. “I think you’ve made a good choice,” he said solemnly.
Anna took his hand and endured his sober smile. “Thank you, Mr. Graves. Tomorrow at ten o’clock, then.”
“And you’re sure you don’t want visitation?”
She extracted her hand from his clammy palm and resisted the impulse to wipe it on her pants. “No. As I told you, I think that under the circumstances—”
“Quite, quite.” Graves nodded.
As soon as she could, Anna escaped his dour presence. A small, sad smile tugged at her lips. Graves Funeral Home. How eerily appropriate.
She walked down the street toward the inn, feeling the eyes of the townspeople on her.
Wincing internally, she thought about Sarah’s funeral. It was a given that the entire town would be there. She’d have preferred to have the service today—as soon as possible, without telling anyone about it. But Graves had tactfully pointed out that Sarah and the town deserved more. As did Anna. They all needed closure.
Anna’s eyes stung. She’d cried more these past two days than she’d ever remembered crying before, even when her mother was killed. Back then she’d been too shocked, too frightened to cry.
Now she was crying for both of them, and for herself. The undertaker was right. Sarah’s funeral would bring closure, not only for Sarah and the town, but for Lou Ann, too.
As she started up the steps to the inn, she saw Zane come out of the police station carrying a paper bag. The clothes he wore—jeans, white shirt, tie and cowboy boots—epitomized the man. He was professional, yet at ease with himself. Confident, yet slightly aloof.
She paused and watched him walk toward her. His long legs allowed him to cover the ground quickly without looking rushed. His broad shoulders appeared capable of carrying the whole world.
She shivered at the memory of him holding her in the darkness, pulling her into his warm, safe embrace. She’d been so helpless as the attacker tightened the strap around her throat. So weak as the garrote cut off her breath and the killer’s voice whispered that she would die. Then Zane had appeared out of nowhere and she was safe.
Zane’s boots echoed on the wooden steps. “Morning, Annie. Are you all right this morning?” His smoky-blue eyes studied her face and neck. She felt their heated caress like a laser, burning her skin.
For an instant she sensed that he wanted to touch her neck where the red scarf hid the ugly purple bruises, but he restrained himself.
Belatedly, she nodded. “I’m okay. I just came from the funeral home.”
“Good.” He climbed the last step, pushed open the door to the lobby and held it for her. “I need to talk to you.”
Anna’s heart leaped. “Have you found out who attacked me?” she whispered.
He shook his head and nodded toward the stairs.
Taking his hint, she didn’t say anything else until they got to her room. Zane closed the door, locked it and threw the swing bar.
Anna looked at him expectantly. “Well?”
“No, I didn’t find your attacker. But the crime lab in Spinoza finished processing your clothes.” He held up the paper sack. “You can have them back,” he said, setting it down on the bed.
“Thank you.” Anna looked at the sack and thought about all the people who must have touched her blouse, her pants, her underwear. She would never be able to wash them enough to erase that memory. She’d throw them all away, except maybe the high-heeled pumps.
“When is the service scheduled?”
Anna blinked, then looked up at him. “Tomorrow at ten. I want to go ahead and get it over with as soon as possible.”
“That’s probably the best thing.” He paused. “Listen—”
He sounded serious and hesitant. She lifted her chin. Was he about to apologize for kissing her this morning? She wasn’t sure if she could bear it if he did. That brief, exquisite moment had sustained her through the embarrassing encounter with the deputy this morning, and through the painful and sad duty of arranging her sister’s burial. She needed that kiss to stay in her memory as a tender gift, not a mistake.
He took a deep breath and she clenched her fists at her sides, her shoulders tightening as if in expectation of an ambush.
“I’m not going to be able to sit with you in the family area at the funeral. I need to be out front where I can see everyone.”
She hadn’t realized she’d been holding her breath until it whooshed out in relief. “That’s…that’s okay.”
He gave her a quizzical look as he continued. “It’s a cinch that if Sarah’s killer is someone in Justice, he will be at the funeral. Everyone in town will be there, so his absence would look suspicious.”
“I’ll be fine alone.” She realized how pathetic that sounded when Zane’s gaze softened.
He stepped closer and tou
ched the scarf. “Are you going to be able to make a scarf work with whatever you wear to the funeral?” He gave her a small smile.
“I’ll manage. When your mother took me shopping I bought a black dress. Black goes with anything.”
His smile faded at the mention of his mother. “Don’t take what Mom says too seriously. She’s pretty fragile with all the scandal surrounding my father.”
“She’s been hurt. I understand that. But she’s very proud of you and your brother.”
To her surprise, Zane’s cheeks turned pink. “Yeah, Sloan. You’ll probably get to meet him soon. He’s coming to give me a hand with the investigation.”
He was still fiddling with her scarf. At that moment, he realized it and jerked his hand away. He rubbed the back of his neck.
“I guess I’d better get going. I’ve still got to interview Rosa.”
Anna picked up the paper sack that contained her clothes.
Clothes. She had to find something for Sarah to wear. Her heart sped up as she thought about Sarah’s suitcase. If Anna’s things had come back from the crime lab, maybe Sarah’s had, too.
Sending up a silent apology to her sister for using her to play the sympathy card, she angled her head and smiled sadly at Zane. “I’ve got to bring a dress for Sarah to the funeral home. Is there any chance I can have her things now?”
He didn’t answer right away, but the soft light in his eyes turned hard. He might feel responsible for her, might even be attracted to her, but he didn’t trust her. And why should he?
He’d had her pegged from the beginning. He’d known she wasn’t telling him everything. If he found out about the suitcase, he’d be furious at her for withholding evidence. Furious? He’d despise her.
She couldn’t trust him, either. The thought made her sad, because she wanted to. Wanted it desperately. But his father could have killed her mother. And if he had, then it was highly likely that he’d killed her sister, too.
As much as she wanted to believe in Zane McKinney’s integrity, he was still his father’s son, his family. And family was everything.
