by Kait Nolan
Ethan came back a few minutes later. “I’m bringing Judd in to assist in the investigation. He’ll be here as soon as he can. I’ve sent Darius out to check on Harley.”
“Harley? You think he did this? Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because you were helping Rene. It may not be him, but I want to verify his whereabouts.” Ethan ran both hands down her shoulders. “I’m so sorry about all of this.”
Because she wanted to lean for just a minute, Miranda moved into him. “Are we cursed?”
“Cursed?”
“We just wanted one night where our jobs didn’t interrupt everything. And we can’t even have that.”
He exhaled and pressed a kiss to her brow. “It won’t always be like this.”
Quiet footsteps sounded in the hall. “Chief, they’re here.”
“Thanks, Rowan.”
“Who’s here?” Miranda asked.
“Cam and Norah.”
Shit. “Why?”
“Because I called them. I’m sending you home with them.”
Miranda pulled back, feeling the first flames of temper lick through the upset. “Excuse me?”
“Honey, there’s nothing you’re gonna be able to do here tonight. I need to stay here to do my job, and I don’t want you home alone. You’re staying with them out at Hope Springs tonight.”
“This is my clinic, my livelihood.”
“I know. And you’re justifiably upset and not thinking clearly. Go on home with Cam and Norah. She’ll help you devise a plan of attack for getting everything sorted as quickly as possible with the clinic, and you know she’ll set up whatever work details are necessary to get you back in business. The sooner I finish here, the sooner y’all can get started on that.”
Miranda’s hands curled to fists. She hated feeling powerless, hated someone else calling the shots. But what choice did she have? He didn’t trust her judgment right now. The idea of it rankled.
You’re not being fair. You’re just being too sensitive because of your experience with Stephen. Ethan’s not like that.
And hell, maybe he was right. She was upset and perilously close to a break down. She’d just as soon have that away from him. So she stuffed all that simmering rage down too and took a breath. “Fine. I’ll go tonight. But Ethan, I’m not going to stop living my life just because some asshole decided to have a tantrum at my expense. If I do, that means he wins.”
“There’s something here, somewhere, that’s going to tell us who’s behind this. And I’m going to find it.”
She didn’t doubt him, but she sure as hell hoped it was soon. She didn’t know how much more she could take.
“You think this is your guy?” Ethan asked.
Judd kicked back against the break room counter and chomped down on a donut. “I don’t know. None of the other hits had this kind of vandalism. That wastes valuable time. Up to now, every single one has been in and out, clean as a whistle. Why would he change now?”
“Could be the thief broke in, hoping to replenish his supply, expected to find more than he did, and lost his temper when he didn’t find much.”
“Maybe. Criminals are often stupid, so I’m not ruling it out, but it seems unlikely. Even if he didn’t find what he wanted, he’s smart enough to know what he could take. Why leave that behind?”
“Time? Or maybe he realized it wasn’t gonna be the haul he wanted, and he decided to cut his losses and get the hell out.”
“Do you really believe that?” Judd asked.
“It’s a theory. But no, it doesn’t ring true.” Ethan didn’t like the idea that it wasn’t a failed drug theft. Because if it wasn’t about that, then it was more likely about somehow striking at Miranda.
“Well, it wasn’t Harley.” Darius strode in and reached for the coffee pot. “Nearly a dozen witnesses place him at The Mudcat.”
Ethan mentally calculated the distance, both on foot and by car. “The whole time?”
“Before, during, and after. And guess who he was drinking with?”
“Who?”
“Ralph Slocombe.”
“Which knocks Slocombe out for this, too.” Ethan scrubbed a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Are the two of them known friends?”
“I don’t know. I think they used to work together. They were bitching about the factory closing with some other guys. Nothing illegal about that.”
Maybe not, but it seemed damned coincidental. Then again, as he was increasingly reminded, Wishful was a small town. It seemed most everybody knew everybody else in some form or fashion. “Hmm.”
“Are you trying to make a connection between my guy and Forbes?” Judd asked.
“Probably just wishful thinking. He’s a bad son of a bitch, and I want to put him away for something he can’t raise enough bail to get out of. He may not have been the vandal, but he’s not innocent. Where are we on that list of his known associates?”
Darius shrugged. “There’s nobody on it with a blinking red sign that says criminal here. A few with criminal records, but it’s all for minor stuff. Misdemeanors. No worse than Harley’s own record up to now. A lot of them are in the same boat as Harley and Ralph. Trouble finding work since the factories closed.”
“Anybody who seems to be living beyond their means under those circumstances?” Ethan asked.
“That’ll take some more digging.”
“It can wait. The vandalism at the clinic takes priority.” Ethan poured his own mug of coffee. He’d lost count of how much he’d had since last night. “Are the prints scanned in?”
“Yeah. But we’ll need to get prints from everyone on staff to weed them out. Everybody’s been notified already, so they should be swinging through the station sometime this morning to get that taken care of.”
“Good. I want to question all of them. See if there’s anybody or anything that sticks out in their memories. Something Miranda’s not thinking of.”
“What about the kid? Harley’s stepson. Do we know his whereabouts last night?” Judd asked.
“I haven’t checked yet,” Darius admitted.
Ethan crossed his arms. “What motive would he have for targeting Miranda?”
Judd finished off his donut. “Maybe he’s mad she didn’t convince his mama to leave Harley sooner? I don’t know. You said yourself the kid was a powder keg. Hell, he shot Raines while trying to kill his stepfather. That doesn’t exactly scream stable.”
“Darius, follow up on it. Verify his whereabouts. Maybe I’m being biased. When you’re finished, take yourself home. You’ve been up all night.”
“So have you.” Darius lifted his mug in a toast before draining it. “I’ll bring back my findings.”
Judd set his mug into the sink. “I’m gonna be getting on, too. Heading into Lawley to check in on some things. If I hear anything useful, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Thanks man.”
As soon as they were gone, Ethan took his coffee into his office to review the crime scene photos. As big a mess as the place was, most of it was just nuisance stuff. The glass could be cleaned, the supplies replaced. The files were a disaster. Unless some turned up missing, that was probably just more mess. The computer was the worst of it. But why destroy just the one up front? Why not the ones in the patient exam rooms? Lack of time? Assumption that they weren’t on the same system? What was the purpose of the vandalism? Distraction? A tantrum like Miranda suspected? Was it meant to upset her? Scare her?
He continued to click through the photos, scanning details.
“Chief?”
He looked up at Inez in the doorway. “Yeah?”
“Delaney Newell came in to be printed.”
Ethan rose. “I’ll take care of it. Thanks.”
Delaney was dressed up, clearly on her way to or from church. Her gaze flitted around the station, taking it all in, as she twisted the strap of her purse.
“Miss Newell. Good morning. Thanks for coming in.”
Her attention swung to him
and she seemed to settle. “Oh, of course. I just can’t believe somebody would trash the office like that.”
“We just need to get your prints, then I’d like to ask you a few questions, see if there’s anything you can think of that Miranda hasn’t.”
“Sure.”
Quick and efficient, Ethan finished the fingerprinting—not mentioning the fact they already had her prints on file from her previous arrest—then led her back to his office. “Have a seat, Miss Newell.”
Delaney sat in one of the chairs across from his desk and checked her watch.
“Somewhere you have to be?”
“I was stopping in on my way to church. The service starts in half an hour.”
“I’ll try to be brief. Have you noticed anything odd at work the past few weeks or months? Any patients giving Miranda trouble? Or any talking about her behind her back?”
The woman considered. “Well, she had that tussle with Ralph Slocombe, but you already knew about that. There’s always some fussing from people when she tells them something they don’t want to hear—like that they’re going to have to give up bacon because their cholesterol is too high or something. But for the most part, everybody loves Miranda. It’s why her practice is thriving.”
“The clinic wasn’t the first incident. Her tires were slashed out at the bonfire. You left early that night. Did you see anything that seemed off to you?”
“Not that I can remember. There were people in and out all evening.”
“Why did you leave early?”
“I wasn’t feeling particularly well.”
“How about the night of setup for the dance? Did you see anything or hear anything that would indicate somebody’s upset with Miranda?”
“No, everyone was just talking about the dance itself.”
“You left right about the time I got there.”
“I did.”
When Ethan didn’t pursue that and instead asked, “And last night?” she frowned.
“What about last night?”
“You left the dance early.”
Delaney’s eyes narrowed. “Are you watching me, Chief Greer?”
“I watch everybody.”
Still frowning, she said, “Yes, I left the dance early.”
“You seemed upset. Why?”
“Because that song you sang Miranda upset me. It reminded me of my ex. It used to be our song, and I just didn’t want to stay after that.”
“That whole situation was a pretty bad one, finding out your guy had been cheating. That’s enough to piss anybody off.”
Delaney’s lips thinned. “You already know I was more than pissed off or you wouldn’t be pursuing this line of questioning. I don’t love Bryce anymore. I don’t care what he does or who he’s with. I am over him and over that whole situation. I haven’t missed my medication. I was upset, yes, because I was at a Valentine’s dance alone. But I am not stupid or crazy. Why would I take anything out on Miranda? She gave me a chance when no one else would. Why on earth would I repay her with meanness?”
“Maybe you’re tired of her being so vocal in defending you. Her getting angry and fighting about it just brings all of it back up in everybody’s minds.”
A quick flash of temper crossed her face before she got herself under control again. “People will gossip no matter what. I’m hardly going to criticize her for defending me. Almost no one else has been willing to stick their neck out to do that.”
“Maybe you feel threatened by Miranda like you felt threatened by Gina Draper with Bryce.”
Delaney just shook her head, confused. “Why would I feel that way? The only person she’s seeing is you.”
Ethan just looked at her, waiting.
Her cheeks pinked. “You think I have a thing for you?”
He crossed his arms. “Never shot a bow before?”
“Oh for the love of—” She rolled her eyes and huffed a breath, obviously struggling with the desire to tell him he had a big head. “I hadn’t shot anything like you had for the class. I hardly think the summer I spent at camp in Alabama when I was twelve actually qualified me for anything.”
“You’re awfully good with a bow for just that.”
“Tell me something, Chief. Do you shoot something other than your service weapon? Hunting rifles? Shotguns?”
“Yes.”
“And do you not find that your marksmanship translates to some extent across weapons?”
“Are you saying you’ve got some other kind of marksmanship experience?”
“Two-time finalist in the state riflery championship in high school. And before you ask, no, I do not currently own any firearms. Now look, you seem to be a mostly nice guy. Miranda wouldn’t be with you if you weren’t. I get that you’re just doing your job and at some point since you arrived in town, somebody told you about my sordid and unfortunate past. You wouldn’t be doing due diligence if you didn’t follow up on that. But I did not do this. So unless you have sufficient cause to charge me—and I’m assuming you don’t since, as I said, I didn’t do this—I need to be getting on to church. If there are no further questions?”
The little mouse has a spine after all. “Just one. Since you say you didn’t do this, can anyone verify your whereabouts after leaving the dance?”
She pressed her lips together. “I went straight home.”
“Alone?”
“Yes, alone.”
Convenient. “Did you see anybody? A neighbor? A roommate? Somebody who can confirm round about what time you got home?”
“I live in an apartment above my aunt’s garage. Maybe she noticed when I got home. I don’t know. But I’m sure you’ll ask her.”
“I will. Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Newell. That’s all for now. But don’t be leaving town. I might have more questions later.”
Eyes sparking with temper, Delaney shoved up out of the chair. “I won’t be leaving town. I’ll be helping Miranda put the office back to rights so we can all get back to work.” With one, final fulminating glare, she sailed out of his office.
He waited until she’d gone before heading to the file room. It took him only a few minutes to find the folder Inez had pulled for him mere weeks ago. Back at his desk, he opened the file, flipping through the printed crime scene photos and reports until he found the one he wanted. There, in damning black and white, was the proclamation of County Fire Marshal Charlie Hammond that the fire at Gina Draper’s residence was, in fact, probable arson by means of rags soaked in linseed oil.
Ethan reached for the phone.
The other man answered after only two rings. “Hammond.”
“Charlie, this is Ethan Greer down in Wishful. I need you to come analyze the scene of a fire for possible arson.”
Chapter 18
“Please tell me I can get back into my clinic to start sorting this mess out.” The words were out of Miranda’s mouth before Ethan had even shut the front door.
“Hello to you, too.” He looked exhausted. At some point since last night, he’d changed into his uniform. Had he been back to the house or changed into the spare he kept at the station?
“I’m sorry. You haven’t slept.” Miranda crossed over to slip her arms around him.
His lifted in response, but the gesture felt automatic. “No, I have not.”
“You want coffee?”
“Cassie sent over an assortment. I believe I’m currently being fueled by a Ja Mocha Me Crazy. If I add more caffeine on top of that I might be crazy. How long have you been home?”
“Cam and Norah dropped me off on the way to church this morning. What did you find out?”
He skimmed his hands down her arms and focused in on her. “Let’s sit down.”
Miranda tensed. “You’ve figured out who’s behind all this.”
His expression grave, he just folded her hand in his and pulled her toward the couch. “C’mon, sit with me.”
She tugged free, resenting the softness because it made her feel like he though
t she was breakable. She was upset, but she wasn’t weak. “Don’t coddle me, Ethan. Just spit it out. What did you find out?”
On a sigh, he seemed to accept she wasn’t going to join him and sank down on the sofa. “We’ve finished processing the scene, so you can get in this afternoon to start cleaning up.”
“Great. The sooner that’s sorted, the better. Now who is making my life difficult?”
“You’re not gonna like it.”
Miranda had a bad feeling about all this, but she waited.
“I’ve had my suspicions, and this morning I brought in the fire marshal to look over the shed more thoroughly. I wanted a more expert opinion on the likelihood that it was arson.”
The knot of dread grew heavier in her stomach. “And?”
“There’s someone in town who’s already committed arson under the guise of an accident. Someone who’s had a history of unstable behavior.”
Don’t say it. Don’t say it.
“Delaney.”
The refusal was instant. “No. It’s not her.” It couldn’t possibly be her. Delaney was a friend and the last thing she needed was to be dragged through the mud again by having her past mistakes spotlit as part of a new investigation.
Ethan rubbed a hand over his hair. “I’m not making this accusation lightly. Just hear me out.”
Though every instinct shouted in rejection of the idea, Ethan had a reputation as a good cop. If he said he had evidence, he had some kind of evidence, and she owed it to him to listen. Crossing her arms, she nodded at him to go on.
“She was at the diner the day your car was keyed, and she’s frustrated that you’re so vocal in defending her, keeping all the gossips fueled rather than letting the whole thing lie.”
Was that really what Delaney thought? Would she rather Miranda say nothing to contradict the asshats like Clarice Morris? “Even if that’s true, she left before I did that defending.”
“Let me finish,” he snapped.
Miranda clenched her teeth but nodded.
“She was at the bonfire the night your tires were slashed, and she left early after witnesses noted her seeming upset after I sang to you. She was at the set up for the dance, and again, left early, seeming upset after seeing you and me together. Based on the evidence Charlie Hammond found, it’s unlikely that fire was a result of a slow build up of linseed oil. And there’s documented evidence from her original arrest about a fire started with linseed oil beneath the deck at the home her ex shared with Gina Draper. She left the dance itself early, also seeming upset, during my performance. She had just enough time to get to the clinic and trash it before we were notified. Apart from the alarm, there were no signs of breaking and entering, suggesting either someone extremely good at picking locks or that the perpetrator had a key. And she has a history of retaliatory behavior against a woman involved with the guy she was into. She had means, motive, and opportunity and no verifiable alibi for any of those occasions.”
