Dark Passing (The Ella Reynolds Series)

by Liz Schulte

  I looked down at my mug. Perhaps I could’ve handled this better.

  “How did you end up here with him?”

  “Fagan wanted to get a drink before he went home. I didn’t know he was planning on taking me here. He said something about having a reputation to maintain in Jackson.”

  Gabriel’s jaw tightened as he looked into my probably bloodshot eyes. “You’re drinking again.” It wasn’t a question and he wasn’t smiling.

  Fagan sat back down at the table.

  “Anything interesting?” I asked to divert my attention from my growing guilt.

  “Just police business.” Fagan took a mouthful of coffee.

  Damn it. He would’ve told me if Gabriel wasn’t there.

  The rest of the meal was all awkward silences and glares. I couldn’t eat, so I pushed my plate in front of Gabriel. My life was so much easier before I had so many men pushing their noses into it.

  Right, like back when you didn’t leave your house and only spoke with a therapist, a mean know-it-all voice said in my head.

  “Touché,” I muttered.

  Gabriel frowned at me as we walked to his car. “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Ella—”

  “Stop. I only drank with him because I wanted to know what he was hiding. I wanted him to talk to me. I’m not ‘drinking again,’ but if you keep harping on me, I will.” I shoved my hand through my hair. “And how did this all become my fault? I’m the one who should be mad at you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “I told you I’d talk to you today. That wasn’t an invitation for you to come charging in and ruin any goodwill I managed to establish last night. I don’t exactly excel at being friendly, you know.”

  “So you don’t want me here? I thought you wanted my help.”

  Crap. “I did want your help, but you weren’t interested in giving it to me until you thought Fagan might be competition.”

  He opened the car door for me, waited for all my limbs to be securely inside, then slammed it shut.

  “So you want me to go back?” he asked after he climbed in his side. “Is that what you’re saying?”

  “No, just that you should’ve called me, talked to me about it.”

  He drove for a while, not talking and looking straight ahead. I couldn’t make head or tails of his damned enigmatic face. “I asked for time off work before you texted last night. I figured with the third murder, maybe you did need me here.”

  A flood of thoughts washed over me. Maybe I was overreacting. Everything would be easier with Gabriel there for transportation. Plus, I’d always have someone nearby who I could trust, and I would feel safer. However, Fagan would share less with me, I’d still have to go to events with him, and Gabriel was already jealous, and… “What about the house?”

  “The house will be fine. I can get Eric to pick up your mail and keep an eye on things.”

  I stifled a yawn and pressed back against the seat. “Then I’m glad you’re here. Three people have died. And you’re right; I’m in over my head, but I don’t want to quit.” My eyes were heavy and my blinks became longer and longer. “We’ll figure it out,” I mumbled.

  You haven’t looked at the diary. The fleeting thought trailed through my mind and as the words sank in, my eyes popped open. I picked up my purse and dug the journal out. Gabriel glanced over. “Is that the diary?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Christ, Ella. You removed the only piece of evidence linking him to Mary Nelson from his house. Not to mention when he figures out it’s missing, it won’t be hard to figure out who took it.”

  Crap, I didn’t think about any of that. “But I needed to read it.”

  “What do you think it’s going to say? It’s not like she’ll have written about her murder.”

  “I don’t know,” I snapped. “Maybe her boyfriend. Maybe some clue as to who was in her life.” Maybe working with Gabriel was a mistake. I counted to ten before continuing. “I wanted it so I could figure out who her boyfriend was. But since Fagan had the book, isn’t a student, and lives near the campus, it’s probably him, so you’re right. It was dumb to take the journal.” I’d had oral surgery that was more pleasant than telling him he was right.

  His lips curled as he bit back a laugh. “Wow, look how the mighty have fallen. You’ve admitted I’m right twice already and it’s not even noon.”

  I tried to glare at him, but ending up smiling instead.

  “Well,” he relented, “since we have it, you might as well crack it open.

  January 1st

  Dear diary,

  I’m going to name you Cecelia because I can’t go on calling you by such an impersonal name as diary, can I? This year is going to be wonderful. My life is starting to make sense—all the pieces are coming together. School is better than I hoped. It was a little scary at first. I didn’t know anyone, except Alfie, and nearly everyone there is so… Pretentious seems too small of a word.

  But getting out of Jackson was the best thing I ever did, though I still have to spend my weekends there and it smothers me. However, I have plans. I applied for an internship over the summer that will take me away for the entire vacation, and after that I‘m getting my own apartment!!

  I’ll miss my mom, but not enough not to do it. I’ll be away from Bryan, who’s harder and harder to relate to, yet every time I try to break up with him he manages to make me feel bad and I stop. But I have moved on. I’m seeing someone new, someone I can’t even tell you about. He has a reputation to maintain. Ugh, *eye roll.* He’s older, but it’s not like I’m marrying him. That would defeat the purpose. I want out of here, not to be tied down more. That’s why he’s perfect for me. He’s confident, knows what he wants, and can have real conversations with me. And he’s… Well, as I said, it’s going to be a good year. J

  I read the first entry aloud as we drove down the highway, my heart breaking for the foolish girl.

  “We should definitely talk to Bryan again,” Gabriel said.

  I nodded. “She was totally seeing Fagan.”

  “You still can’t prove it. She doesn’t name him.”

  “She says he has a ‘reputation to maintain.’ He’s told me that nonsense multiple times.”

  “But it doesn’t prove anything.”

  “He did it.” It was a bold statement, but everything fit in my mind.

  “Why?”

  “He had her diary—hello, trophy—he was dating her, he made her keep their relationship quiet, she would’ve pulled over for him, he had control of the investigation, and he has a temper. I’ve seen it firsthand.”

  “The diary was in his house, but she could’ve forgotten it there or it could’ve been placed there by someone else. Fagan may or may not have been dating her. I imagine a lot of older guys dating young girls want to keep it hushed up to protect their reputations—and possibly, their marriages. She could’ve pulled over for any number of reasons, especially if she knew the driver. Fagan ran the investigation, yes, but a lot of people are involved in a murder investigation. As for his temper, I have nothing to say about that except he could’ve killed you any number of times, yet hasn’t.” Gabriel reached down to adjust the heat. “And how would Lakota and Nikki fit into all of this?”

  I hadn’t figured that part out yet. “Well, Lakota must’ve known something the killer was afraid of. I’d already spoken with Nikki and she didn’t know anything, so I’m not sure how she fits in.”

  “What time do you have to be at the bookstore?”

  “2:00 p.m.”

  “Okay, while you’re doing that, I’ll review your notes and the files to catch myself up. Then we’ll see Jennifer and Bryan again.”

  “Yes, if Mary was living a double life, it had to bleed over into her regular life, right? Something has to be there.”

  “It doesn’t hurt to check.”

  “What are we going to do with this?” I waved the diary at him.

  “Officially, we should tu
rn it into the police, but since that isn’t a viable option at the moment, I think you should stop touching it. I’ll take it to Montgomery for fingerprints, though there’s little chance of finding anything now. Then we can finish reading it.”

  When we pulled up alongside the bed and breakfast, Martha was sitting on the porch, wrapped in a blanket, sipping coffee. “My goodness, were you out all night?” she called, as I got out of the car.

  I walked up the steps with Gabriel at my heels. “Yeah. Martha, you remember Gabriel.”

  She stood up and shook his hand. “Yes, of course. Can I get you two something to eat?”

  Gabriel smiled at her and I shook my head. “I think I’m going to take a nap. Would it be okay if Gabriel stays here for a while? He’s a detective and is going to help me with the investigation.”

  “Absolutely. Anything for Mary. I will make him up a room.”

  My lip curled slightly. What was she talking about? Why would he need another room? “Don’t trouble yourself. He can stay with me.”

  She gave me a disapproving look and Gabriel laid a hand on my back. “Another room would be great. Thank you, Martha.”

  She nodded before rushing into the house.

  “That’s stupid.”

  “Ella, it’s her house. Her rules.”

  “But we are both adults.”

  “Go nap.” He kissed my forehead and pushed me toward the door.

  ****

  My sleep was fitful, but I got in a couple hours before I had to get ready. I quickly showered and dressed in black pants, a black turtleneck sweater, and black boots. I went on a search for Gabriel and found him on the stairs.

  “I was just coming to wake you up.” He paused. “You look like a cat burglar.”

  I frowned and continued down the stairs. “Black is my signature color.”

  “I talked to Eric. He’ll check on your house and my grandparents periodically.”

  “Great.” I forgot he had family. “If you need to be in Montgomery, I don’t want to take you away.”

  He laughed. “They’re fine. They’re a young 89. I just like to be around to help them out if need be.” He gave me a sly look. “Gran said to bring you by the house to meet her and Grandpa.”

  A startled laugh shot out of my mouth, and I picked up my pace, my palms suddenly sweaty. Gabriel didn’t bring it up again. He dropped me off at the back of the bookstore on his way to the police station. Sheriff Fagan waited inside.

  “And where’s the ever present Detective Troy going?” he asked.

  “To the station.”

  “Ah, but my deal was with you, not him.”

  My lips pursed. “We’re trying to help you, Carter. I’d think you’d want all the help you can get.”

  Fagan stared at me for too long, then blinked and turned his head. “Why’s that?”

  “You have three murders, and I’m willing to bet no clues,” I hissed.

  “We have the murder weapon.”

  “Has it told you anything?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Then a person in your position, someone whose deputies have barely investigated any murders, should jump at the chance to have a seasoned detective help you. You do want to solve the case, right?” Our hushed tones and body language, leaning in toward each other, kept Victor, the owner, at bay. He lurked behind us, wringing his hands like he didn’t know if he should interrupt. I let the pause linger, then brushed past Fagan.

  “Hello again.” I offered my hand to Victor.

  He clasped it with two hands and shook it vigorously. “It’s so good to have you here. I apologize for not contacting you beforehand to discuss the day, like we’d planned to at the dinner party. Sheriff Fagan tells me you’ll do a reading.”

  I glared at Fagan. “I do apologize, but I need to get back to the office—no time for a read.”

  Victor nodded his understanding. “Did you hear about the latest murder? What is this town coming to?”

  “I did hear. Horrible.”

  “Well, we must not dwell. There’s already a line, news travels fast, and everyone is eager to meet you.” He clapped his hands once, then led me from the back room to a table in the front covered in a black tablecloth, with a single chair behind it. He had water, pens, and a display of my books. And he hadn’t been lying. There was a happily chatting lineup. I took my seat and uncapped a pen. Victor made a small introduction and then we started moving people through. The hours flew by, and everyone was incredibly nice. In all my time in Montgomery, I’d never had a reception like this. What a difference a few miles and a murder made. By the time the day ended, my smile felt permanently frozen to my face and my fingers ached. As I flexed my hand and made a fist, I saw Gabriel near the back of the shop, arms crossed over his chest, a slight smile dancing on his lips. I thanked Victor for having me before heading for him.

  “You’re so different like this.” He helped me put on my coat.

  I shrugged. “They were here to see Ella Reynolds the author, not Ella Reynolds the neurotic shut-in.”

  He laughed. “I like the neurotic shut-in.”

  “You would. So were you able to catch up?”

  “I scanned what you had in the interview room and what was in your notebook. I think we should save Jennifer and Bryan for tomorrow and spend tonight working out a more organized approach.”

  “Sounds good.” I yawned as I climbed into the sedan.

  “Great. We’ll go back to Montgomery, drop the journal off for fingerprints, and take it easy.”

  “Mmmhmm.” I closed my eyes. The sound and rock of the car lulled to me sleep in a matter of moments. I awoke as we came to a stop in front of the too-familiar police station, drool trickling down my cheek. Lovely.

  Gabriel hopped out and ran inside. When he got back, I was more awake and presentable. “Won’t they have an issue with you using their resources for a crime in Jackson?”

  “If I get caught, maybe. I gave them directly to Eric. He knows what I’m up to.”

  We stopped by Gabriel’s so he could pick up a few things. I liked his house. It was small, cozy, and happy feeling. During the height of the haunting, his place had seemed like a peaceful oasis.

  “Here’s your mail.” He handed me a small stack.

  I shoved it in my purse and knelt down to retie my shoe. “You know, since we’re working together now, we could commute. I have that gala with Fagan on Friday, but I could stay at Martha’s that night. If you don’t mind driving every day, there’s no reason to keep staying in Jackson.”

  “I don’t mind at all. It’s a good plan—will keep a little normalcy in our lives.”

  I already had a vision of setting up a murder board in my living room. I made a mental note of what I’d need and called Martha to let them know the change in plans.

  “Darcey Inn, how can I help you?”

  “Hey, Martha. It’s Ella.”

  “Hello, dear. Will you be home for dinner tonight?”

  “No, sorry. Gabriel and I were talking, and we think it’ll be easier to commute from now on. I’ll pick up my things tomorrow, but if you don’t mind, would it be possible for me to stay Friday night? I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

  “No need to thank me, dear.” She sounded so sad, so lonely, I almost went back. “I’ll miss having you around, but I understand. Of course you can stay Friday.”

  “You’ll still see me. I’ll come by early tomorrow and take you to the café for breakfast.”

  “That’d be lovely, but I don’t want to take your time away from the case…”

  “Not at all. I need to tell you all about the signing.”

  “Oh shoot, I forgot that was today. I meant to come by and get my books signed.”

  “I’d be happy to sign them. It’s the least I can do. See you tomorrow.”

  Gabriel packed a small bag for himself; then we made a quick stop at Walmart to get things for my murder board. He dropped me off at my house and went to grab din
ner, and I set up my four white boards along the couch and gave each one its own header: victims, witnesses, suspects, and evidence. I was still filling in information when Gabriel arrived back. He eyed what I’d done, then nodded.

  “We’ll look at this after dinner.”

  I followed the aroma of Thai food to the kitchen, where I scooped my red curry and rice onto a plate. We chatted, keeping the conversation light because we both knew what was coming after dinner.

  “I told Gran we’d have dinner with her Friday night.”

  The room was suddenly very warm, and I didn’t think it was the spicy food. “I can’t Friday, but you should go without me.”

  “They’re my grandparents, nothing to be afraid of.”

  I concentrated on my food. I wasn’t afraid. I just didn’t want to meet them. What were the odds Gabriel’s sweet little old grandparents would like me? Whatever they were, they weren’t in my favor. I’d pass on the whole parent and grandparent meeting thing. I already knew Gabriel was crazy to stay with me; his family didn’t need to know too. “I have Fagan’s gala that night,” I told him casually.

  “Ah.” Awkward silence filled the space between us. “I could reschedule.”

  “No, don’t. You should spend time with them. I’ll go to the gala, and we can have dinner with them some other time.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he said under his breath, and I pretended I didn’t hear.

  I took my last bite and cleared the plates. Back in the living room, I sat in front of the boards while Gabriel took the ottoman behind me. Together, we studied the horrific crime laid out in front of us in simple words.

  “Okay, explain to me what you have here.”

  “Well, on this board, the victims.” I made a Vanna White type gesture. “Mary, Lakota, and Nikki.”

  Gabriel rubbed his jaw. “You’re making a lot of assumptions. The only for sure victim you have is Mary. We don’t know if Lakota even knew her, and there are other reasonable explanations to why someone may have wanted to harm her. And you’d already spoken with Nikki, so what would Mary’s killer gain by killing her?” He stared at the names for a while longer. “Also, their manner of death is so different. Mary’s was planned, highly organized and meticulous. The other two seem rage fueled, uncontrolled. Nikki was killed in a public setting where there could’ve been witnesses, and the killer left the murder weapon. That’s sloppy, disorganized.”