by Ava Mallory
“Don't tell me – the police don't know.” He groaned.
“I don't think so.” I answered.
He handed me his cell phone and said, “Call them.”
I took a deep breath and dialed the police department's non-emergency number. Don't ask why I had that phone number committed to memory.
When Detective Ortiz came on the line, her tone was warm and friendly. It completely changed after I told her what Nathaniel had told the reporter.
She sighed. “Are you kidding me? He said he witnessed the murder?”
“He did,” I answered.
I could hear some rustling around on her end of the line. After a few seconds, she asked, “Are you at home?”
“Yes,” I answered, wondering what I'd just gotten myself into.
“What's your address?” She asked, anger evident in her voice.
I gulped and looked at Charlie and Tina. “She wants my address.”
“Ms. Mares, who are you talking to? Is Mr. Rich there with you?” Detective Ortiz asked.
“No, sorry. I'm having dinner with friends.” I apologized.
After giving her my address, I couldn't sit still. Charlie assured me that I wouldn't be in any kind of trouble with the police. That wasn't very reassuring, though. I'd still have to face Nathaniel and eventually he'd find out that I outed him.
“It will be fine. He can't get angry because people were going to find out anyway. As soon as that interview airs, the whole country will know. What's with this man? Why would he want to tell the media, but not the police? Does he want to go to prison?” Charlie had the same questions that I had. Things just didn't make sense.
Charlie answered the door when Detective Ortiz arrived. “Welcome. I'm Sheriff Charlie Wagner.” He offered her his hand.
“Hello. Detective Ortiz. Is Mercy available?” She asked, touching her hand to her face nervously as Charlie smiled at her.
Cut it out. She's half your age, cowboy.
I stepped forward and greeted her. “Hi! I'm sorry we were about to sit down to dinner. Charlie is only in town a few days and decided he'd cook here tonight.” I had no idea what possessed me to tell her that, but I couldn't make myself stop talking. “Tina just moved in this week with her little boy, Noah. Isn't he a handsome boy?”
The detective's eyes followed the room, from the furniture to Tina and her son. “This is a really cute place. Did you decorate this yourself?”
I blushed. I was glad she'd noticed. My house was my pride and joy. I loved every inch of it and had chosen each piece of furniture that came into my home with the precision of a NASA scientist.
I wasn't a big spender, but I did appreciate quality. Most of what I owned were vintage pieces that I'd picked up in antique shops when I traveled or acquired at estate sales. I loved the world of old and had no time for space age furniture or modern finishes.
“I did. I love decorating. In a perfect world, I'd spend my days antiquing and my nights cooking up recipes.” I told her.
“Not nursing?” She asked.
“Oh, I'd never stop doing that. I meant in addition to caring for others. Maybe I just wouldn't work so much though. It would be nice to spend some time at home for a change.” I said.
“How many weeks a year are you gone?” She asked.
Was I being interrogated? I looked to Charlie for guidance. He shrugged.
“It varies. I go where I'm needed. When I first started, I wasn't gone too much because my daughter was still at home and I didn't want to be away from her for extended periods of time.” I explained.
“And, now?” Detective Ortiz asked.
I motioned for her to sit down. “Now, I work a lot more. It keeps me busy. My poor car needs a lot of repairs, so I took this job with Mr. Rich to help pay for those repairs.”
“If your car weren't in need of repairs, what would you be doing to fill your time?” She asked.
“I'd be here tending to neglected projects and probably organizing my ex-husband's nightmare of a wedding.” I answered.
She put her hand on her forehead. Had I gone too far with my nonsense?
“You're coordinating your ex-husband's wedding?” She asked through her laughter.
Charlie answered for me. “No, mostly she's just whining because she doesn't like the new woman and because it was her who had introduced him to his new bride.”
“Ouch,” Detective Ortiz said. “That sucks!”
“Yep, tell me about it.” I grumbled.
“Not going well, I take it. More power to you. I don't think I'd ever be able to do that, but what do I know? I've never been married.” Detective Ortiz explained.
Charlie sat up straighter in his seat. I shot a glare his way. She's just a kid, old man.
Tina bit her lip to stifle a giggle. We'd reached a new all time low. I had to corral the troops or this conversation would undoubtedly go south fast.
“If you don't mind my asking, how old are you? To someone like me and the Sheriff here, you look so young.” I thought that would put Charlie in his place.
“I'm twenty-eight-years-old. I know I look young. I get that all the time, but I'm not that young.” She answered.
She wasn't that much older than Diana. Looking at her now, I couldn't get over what a beautiful young woman she was and neither could Charlie. His eyes were still fixated on her. I couldn't blame him, though. She was stunning, but even more importantly, she exuded confidence. I could only imagine how valuable that was in her profession.
“So, am I in trouble for telling you about Nathaniel and the reporter?” I asked.
Detective Ortiz shook her head. “No, you're not. I can't say the same for your employer though. Sometimes I'll never understand what people are thinking when they are dealing with police. I know how stressful this must be for him, but even the most minute detail can have a serious impact on the investigation. That's what I wanted to ask you about. What else did you hear him say?” She asked me.
I looked over at the table of food and asked, “Are you hungry? Would you like to have dinner with us, Detective?”
She looked at the table and waved to Noah, who was eagerly eating his corn on the cob. “I'd love to. I haven't eaten all day. Thank you.”
When we were all situated at the table, she said, “First, I'm going to need everyone to not me call me detective. Call me Zoey, please.”
“Zoey, it is,” Charlie responded. “Now, I hope you like grilled steaks and potatoes.”
“I do.” She answered.
Over the next couple of hours, we exchanged information. She asked in depth questions. Most of which, I didn't have much knowledge of, but that didn't seem to matter too much. She clued us in to Nathaniel's background and into his ex-wives backgrounds.
After the table was cleared, Zoey and I walked outside.
“Thank you for dinner. I have a favor to ask,” She said. “Can you please not let anyone in the Rich household know that we had this conversation? I want to see how this interview thing plays out.”
I agreed not to share the information. “Can I ask you a couple of questions?” I asked.
“Go ahead.” She replied.
“How did Jane die and do you know who did it?” I asked.
She sighed. “She was shot and no, I don't know who did it, but I will find out.”
*
“It's a walk down the block, not the aisle. Mercy, I swear, you get more and more paranoid every single day. I already told you, dating someone like you would give me angina.” Charlie took my arm and looped it through his. “Come on, Barney, let's take your master out for some fresh air before her big, fat head explodes.”
“That's not nice!” I snapped.
“Well, if you would stop acting like everything I say or do is about you, we wouldn't have these squabbles, would we?” Charlie's annoyance at my behavior had reached a new level.
“You're going to make people come outside,” I warned him as the neighbor's doors and windows opened to see what
the fuss was about.
“I feel sorry for them. How in the world do they expect you to keep them safe, when you spend so much time worrying about what I'm doing?” Charlie asked.
I moved my arm from his and took hold of Barney's leash. “That's enough. You can go back to your hotel now, Sheriff.”
He smirked. “Nope.”
“Um, what?” What was he doing? I just asked him to leave.
He opened his arms wide, saying, “Come here.”
I looked at his arms. “What's that about?”
“Let me hug you. I feel like you need a hug so we can get this over with.” He said.
He lost his mind.
“I don't need a hug.” I protested as my heart began to beat fast in my chest.
“Mercedes, let me hug you.” He said.
“This is silly. I don't want a hug.” I looked down at the ground, where Barney decided it was a good time to take a nap. I mean, five steps outside of the house was enough to tire any dog out, right?
Charlie took a step back, his hand on his belly and laughed. “See, you're getting all worked up for nothing. We're friends, Mercy. Whether you like it or not, we are friends. Occasionally, I'm going to want to hug you. From time to time, I might pat your shoulder. If something more comes from that, then that's not in our hands. We'll deal with it at the time. For now, I am here visiting a friend – a hard-headed, stubborn friend, but a friend nonetheless.”
He had me there. Once again, I let this nearly impossible man stymie me. Why did I keep allowing him to win?
"You're right." I said.
Charlie smiled, feeling pretty proud of himself, I assume.
"No, before you start gloating, let me explain what it is I think you're right about." I warned him. "Maybe I am being hypersensitive. A few months ago, I was just a middle-aged nurse whose biggest problem was not having enough money to dish out to pay for constant car repairs for Gertrude."
"Who is Gertrude and why are you paying for her car repairs?" He asked.
I pointed to my car and the fluid stains that had taken up permanent residence on my concrete driveway. "That's Gertrude."
"And, now, what's changed?" He asked.
I looked around me. The neighborhood still looked the same, minus a splattering of missing lawn ornaments and Margie's patio set, which still befuddled me. Who steals an entire patio set without being noticed?
"Everything has changed." I said. "Did you know that people around here think I'm some kind of detective or something. I don't know anything about crime fighting. I'm a nurse and I thought I was a pretty good one until..."
"Until when? Mercy, you are still a wonderful nurse. Why are you saying all this? You're not being very forthcoming with me." Charlie said.
"I'm trying to tell you, but I don't know if you'll be able to understand. Crime solving is in your blood. I'm just me. Alone." I knew I sounded like a pitiful spinster. That's not what I was going for, but I didn't know any better way to explain the mixed up feelings that were running through my veins.
"Who is this?" Margie stepped out onto her front porch. "Hello, handsome man."
I was glad for the interruption. I needed a breather.
"That's my neighbor Margie. She's a bit of a flirt." I explained to Charlie.
He automatically went into a gentleman cowboy mode, tilting his imaginary hat. "Well, hello, ma'am. Aren't you looking lovely tonight. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
She blushed. I'm sure that was the reaction he was gunning for with that syrupy nonsense that spilled from his lips.
"Hello, yourself. I didn't know that Mercy was seeing anyone. I don't think I've seen her date at all since she and James were dating years ago." Margie said, moving closer to get a better look at Charlie.
He whispered, "I think she likes me."
I stepped on his foot on purpose to make him settle down. "Ouch! What was that for?"
"You need to pick a type. You can't flirt with a twenty-eight-year-old, then me, then my elderly neighbor. That's just wrong!" I crinkled up my nose at him.
"Who said I was flirting with anyone and since when do you care? Just a minute ago, you wanted nothing to do with me in that way. You were ready to throw me out of here." He reminded me.
I shoved him forward to greet Margie properly. "Go say hello, playboy."
The hug he'd asked for came to fruition, except it was reciprocated by a blushing Margie. She was loving every second of being in Charlie's strong arms.
Why hadn't I noticed how muscular he was before or was he muscular when I met him? Right now, I couldn't remember. Maybe I hadn't been paying attention at the time.
"You sure are a lucky girl, Mercy. You've been holding out on me." She looked at Charlie. "Would you believe that she hasn't said one word about you to me and here I thought we were friends."
"We are friends," I protested. "Charlie is my friend, not my boyfriend. You're welcome to date him, if you like. I'm sure he wouldn't mind having you be a part of his life. Would you, Sheriff?"
Ah, I had him now. I made him blush.
He smiled at her, winking. "Marry me now, pretty lady."
This was nauseating. I had to get away from him before they roped me into planning their wedding too.
"I'll leave you two to get acquainted. I think Barney has had enough exercise for today." I lifted Barney and walked back to my house, leaving Charlie looking like a deer in headlights. Good for him. He needed to feel uncomfortable for a few moments. Maybe it would give him some much needed perspective.
Tina sat on the floor, right in front of the television, listening intently to what the female reporter was saying.
"What happened? More missing lawn ornaments?" I asked.
She shook her head. "No, it's an interview with Nathaniel Rich's estranged wife."
My knees buckled. I looked at the screen. The woman was made up from head to toe with boa around her long neck and all. She cried as she spoke to the reporter, but no actual moisture escaped her eyes. Unless she suffered from a tear duct problem, there was no excuse for the lack of tears.
She said, "For ten years, I have loved this man, but for what? So that he could use me and toss me aside for the next woman? I just don't understand. Mark my words, soon everyone will know who he really is and what he is capable of."
The reporter's follow up question was, "What is Mr. Rich capable of, Mrs. Rich?"
She looked directly at the camera, seeming to plead with the people watching and said, "He's capable of murder."
The music was cued for dramatic effect as the reporter read her close. Right there on prime time television, Mrs. Nathaniel Rich accused her husband of murder.
Behind me, Charlie asked, "What in the world was that?"
I couldn't speak. All I could think of was the fact that Cash was just an innocent little boy and had no place else to go. I couldn't stand the fact that he may have been living with a murderer and my motherly instincts kicked in with a vengeance.
I turned to Charlie and said, "Give me your keys."
He looked at me, his eyes narrowing, "Where are we going?"
"To get Cash out of there." I said as I walked out of the house.
Charlie followed closely behind me. "You can't do that. There are procedures that have to be followed and you're not his mother. Let the police and social services handle this, Mercy."
I held out my hands to take the keys.
"No way. You're not driving." Charlie said as he opened the passenger door of his rental car for me.
"I'm going to do this. I have to see if he's okay. I can't just leave him there with Nathaniel. What if he's in danger? What if Nathaniel tries to hurt him?"
Charlie considered for half a second, then, started the car and drove. "If I didn't care about you so much, I'd have nothing to do with this whole situation."
Chapter Nine
The flashing lights were all I could see when we pulled up to the front gates. I quickly rolled down my window and asked the guard, "Wh
at happened?"
His face was grim. "Cash is gone."
My heart jumped into my throat. "Gone? What do you mean gone?" My voice screeched as I asked the question.
Charlie grabbed my wrist to steady my shaking hands. He leaned down on the seat to make eye contact with the guard. "He's missing?"
"Who are you," the guard asked, assessing Charlie's face.
"This is my friend. He's a cop. Now, tell me what happened." I pleaded with him.
