by Debra Webb
What else was the chief holding out on them? “The chief keeps me fully briefed,” Jonathan lied. “You haven’t shared anything I didn’t know.”
“Well then, you know that old Stevie had a piece of Rayburn’s shirt clutched in his cold, dead hand. Them two most likely struggled before the gun fired.”
More news. “That hasn’t been confirmed,” Jonathan said so as to sound knowledgeable of the details.
“Maybe not,” Johnny Ray said, “but if my uncle said that’s the way it went down, then that’s the way it went down. He’s been doing this a long time. He knows his stuff.”
“You can’t think of anyone else who might have wanted to hurt the Shepherd family?” Jonathan asked again.
Johnny Ray shook his head. “Not a soul. The whole town seems to look up to the Shepherds. Don’t know why.” He leered at Melissa. “They aren’t that smart or that pretty.”
Jonathan pushed to his feet. “I’ll come back if I think of any more questions.”
Now he was the one ready to go off. Kicking the butt of a man already injured shouldn’t feel so appealing but Johnny Ray Bruce evidently could care less whom he angered. He likely assumed his uncle’s position would continue to keep him out of trouble with the law. But one of these days his mouth was going to get him killed. His uncle wouldn’t be able to get him out of that.
Melissa walked ahead of Jonathan toward the car, her movements stilted. Once they were inside, with the doors closed, she held up both hands. “If I’d had a weapon, I think I would have killed that egotistical SOB.”
Backing out of the drive, Jonathan suggested, “That would be letting him off too easily.” He didn’t mention that he’d had the same passing thought himself.
“He’s out of his mind.”
“Perhaps. Pain meds do that sometimes.”
Melissa glared at him. He got it. She would know. He hadn’t needed to make that point.
“You’re not buying his tale of unrequited love where Rayburn and Will are concerned?”
“Not really, but we can’t rule it out, either.”
Melissa made a sound that warned that he’d given the wrong answer.
Jonathan set a course for Rayburn’s office. He’d already checked the address and determined the route. Knowing Melissa, he’d expected her to be angry with him, so he’d come prepared.
“Surely you don’t believe him over me,” Melissa demanded when Jonathan failed to retract his statement.
“In my experience,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t burn off any more of her pent up anger on him, “where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Rumors usually are seeded in some semblance of the truth.”
She dropped her head back on the seat. “I don’t believe it at all. I never saw or heard anything to that effect.”
“Do you know Ms. O’Linger?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “She was my English teacher in high school. She retired a few years ago and started working with Scott.”
“Why don’t you handle this one,” Jonathan suggested.
“What am I supposed to ask?” Melissa didn’t sound enthused by the offer. “I’m certainly not going to ask her if she thought Scott had a crush on Will.”
“The answers you need will prompt the questions.” That was Jonathan’s method. There was no reason to ask a question unless the answer would serve a purpose. “I don’t expect you to ask her about that part.”
“Good. Because I won’t.”
Having Melissa ask the questions of a former teacher might garner more answers. If nothing else, the effort would make Melissa feel more useful, lessening the likelihood that she would work up another head of steam. She was already going to be angry enough when they moved on to the third name on his list.
* * *
MS. O’LINGER CRIED twice before Melissa and Jonathan were settled in Scott Rayburn’s office. The woman was beside herself with grief. She couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt Scotty, as she called him. And he assuredly never had anything to do with Polly’s disappearance. More likely he’d stumbled upon the truth and set out to investigate. Ms. O’Linger hadn’t been able to bring herself to leave the office—even on Sunday—until she’d set everything to rights after the chief’s search.
“Do you have reason to believe Scott was investigating Polly’s disappearance?” Melissa asked.
Jonathan flashed a look of approval. He’d been correct when he’d said she would know the questions to ask. That he had faith in her ability to do the job made her feel a little better. Took her mind off poor Uncle Harry lying in that hospital bed.
Ms. O’Linger collapsed into the leather executive chair behind Scott’s desk. “Mercy, let me think.” She rubbed at her forehead. “I’m just so confused. I can hardly believe this has happened.”
Melissa held her breath, hoping the woman could give them something, anything, that might help.
Ms. O’Linger pinched her lips together and glanced at Jonathan.
“Jonathan is here to help,” Melissa assured the woman. “He’s my friend.” She’d introduced him that way, but evidently the message hadn’t gotten through.
“I’m sure he’s very nice,” Ms. O’Linger agreed, “but the chief made me promise not to talk about this to anyone.” She wrung her hands. “He went over Scotty’s office and house. His momma and daddy were awfully upset as it was...” She shook her head. “But when the chief questioned me, he specifically said not to discuss what I knew with anyone. Not a soul.”
Anticipation fired in Melissa’s veins. “Ms. O’Linger, you’ve known me your whole life. I just want to find my niece. We’re not planning to get in the chief’s way. We want to help.”
The old woman divided her attention between Melissa and Jonathan, her gaze sweeping back and forth repeatedly. “If he finds out I told you...”
“He won’t find out,” Melissa said quickly. “You have my word on that. You know I took care of Mr. O’Linger in the hospital. You know you can trust me.” Ms. O’Linger had been most grateful for Melissa’s help during those agonizing final days of her husband’s life. That should account for something.
“Yes, you surely did and that’s the only reason I’m having second thoughts on following the chief’s orders.” She shrugged her rounded shoulders. “Truth is, I don’t think it’s really about the case. The reason he doesn’t want me to talk about it, I mean. I think it’s just embarrassing to him.”
Melissa sat up straighter. The allegations Scott had thrown at Jonathan sifted to the top of her worried mind. Could there be any truth to that rumor? Impossible! Harry would never—Melissa stopped herself. He’d proven her wrong already. At this point, she couldn’t say what he or anyone else might be capable of doing.
Even herself. She’d made love with Jonathan when she’d sworn she would never make that mistake again.
“I didn’t say anything to Scotty,” his secretary admitted with a sheepish look. “I knew he wouldn’t like me going through his briefcase. But he left it on his desk and papers were poking out. I only wanted to straighten up for him.” She smiled at Melissa. “To me, you’re all still just a bunch of kids who need a little extra mothering from time to time.”
The urge to prompt her to get on with her story nearly drove Melissa to jump up and shake her. She didn’t know how Jonathan stayed so calm when he questioned people.
“Anyway, I found a notepad where he’d scribbled several times and dates.” She frowned. “I was curious because I wasn’t aware that he’d taken any new cases that involved a divorce with a cheating spouse.” She smiled proudly. “He liked following up on those personally.”
Melissa sat on the edge of her seat, used her posture to urge the old woman to get on with it.
“But this was no divorce case,” Ms. O’Linger said. “He’d been following Carol Talbot and Harry Shepherd around.” She ducked her head toward one shoulder. “Of course I didn’t question him about it, but it did appear obvious from his notes that he believed the two wer
e carrying on an—” she looked around the room “—affair.”
“Did you give that notepad to the chief?” Jonathan interjected.
Ms. O’Linger nodded. “Oh, yes. He insisted on having it. Scotty had locked it in his safe.” She pointed to the floor. “He had that installed right after I came to work for him. He gave me the combination with strict instructions that I was never to open it unless it was an emergency.”
“Was there anything else inside?” Melissa asked, her head spinning at the idea that her uncle might actually have been having an affair with his best friend’s wife.
How could she have known these people her whole life and not suspected a thing?
“Nothing else,” Ms. O’Linger assured her. “Just that notepad.”
“Did you look at it before you gave it to the chief?” Jonathan prodded.
Ms. O’Linger’s cheeks pinked. “Well, I didn’t really mean to, but I guess curiosity got the better of me.”
“Had he made any recent entries?” Melissa pressed.
“Yes.” The older woman swiped at the desk. “He was going to that old shack again.”
“The one next to the river?” Jonathan asked for clarification.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Did he note why he wanted to go there?” Melissa asked, her heart pounding so hard she could scarcely hear herself think.
Sad eyes settled on Melissa. “He was going back to see what was there. He’d followed your uncle to the shack earlier that evening.”
The remainder of the conversation was lost on Melissa. Jonathan continued to chat with Ms. O’Linger, but Melissa zoned out completely.
Her uncle had gone to the shack before Scott Rayburn’s murder.
Before Stevie’s murder.
He’d gone to that rickety old shack. The one where the police had found evidence indicating that Polly had been held there for at least several days.
Harry Shepherd—the man who had been like a father to her—had taken Polly.
Chapter Fourteen
“This won’t do any good.”
Melissa ignored Jonathan’s remark. She didn’t care. She needed to do this.
As soon as the car was in Park, she wrenched open the door and hurried across the parking lot. This hospital was her home several days a week. No one was going to prevent her from getting in to see her uncle. Now. This minute. She had to talk to him. Whether he could answer her or not didn’t matter.
In the lobby she didn’t wait for the elevator. She took the stairs. Jonathan climbed right behind her.
“Melissa,” he called out, “don’t go in there like this.”
He didn’t understand. Polly wasn’t his niece. Jonathan Foley had never connected on that level with anyone. He couldn’t know.
As soon as the thought formed in her brain she felt guilty.
But that wasn’t stopping her from doing this.
Nothing was.
“Melissa, wait!” head nurse Patty Wheeler cried as Melissa charged past the station on the ICU floor.
She ignored her, as well.
“Wait!” the nurse called again.
“Melissa, stop.” Jonathan caught her by the arm.
She shook off his hold. “No. I have to do this.”
Before the nurse could catch up to her, Melissa barged into the ICU cubicle—and stalled.
Her uncle’s bed was empty. The sheets had been rolled into a ball.
Denial rammed into her with the same impact as butting a brick wall at a full run.
“Melissa, I’m sorry.” The nurse, breathless from the rush, put her arm around her. “We tried to call your cell. Your uncle passed away twenty minutes ago.”
The world tilted and bitter bile rushed up into Melissa’s throat.
“I’ve got her.”
Jonathan’s arms were suddenly around her. Patty was asking Melissa questions but she couldn’t answer.
Her uncle was gone.
As much as that hurt, what hurt even more was the idea that he may have taken Polly’s whereabouts with him.
How would they ever find her now?
12:15 p.m.
JONATHAN HAD DONE SOME research while Melissa gathered her composure, curled up in an easy chair in her living room. If Harry Shepherd had been having an affair with Carol Talbot, what were the chances that she had suspected he was up to something?
If they were close, really close, had he shared his plans with her?
In Jonathan’s estimation, the most likely motive was diverting William’s orders. From all accounts, Harry had been beside himself when William joined the military. He’d basically come unglued when the orders for deployment had come down. Having his nephew survive six months was more than he’d hoped for, but having him go back was unthinkable.
How far would a man go to keep a loved one out of harm’s way? Jonathan had never loved anyone like that. He glanced at Melissa, who was attempting to force down a glass of iced tea.
He couldn’t love anyone like that. It wasn’t in him.
He wanted to. He stole another glance at her. He surely wanted to. But she would be the one to pay for that indulgence. If he’d ever possessed the ability to love that deeply, he’d lost it during those endless hours as he’d watched his men die one by one.
Focus, Jonathan. This isn’t about you.
The chief had called and royally chewed out Jonathan for what he called interfering with his investigation. His anger had nothing to do with the investigation. Chief Talbot was furious that Jonathan and Melissa had learned the truth about his wife’s affair. He had warned them both to stay out of the investigation. Apparently he’d already warned most of Bay Minette’s citizens not to talk to Jonathan or Melissa.
William wasn’t even speaking to Melissa. He’d gone to the funeral home to make arrangements for his uncle and had outright refused to allow Melissa to accompany him.
Whatever the chief had told William, it had worked. For now.
Jonathan had no intention of allowing this case to go unsolved any more than he intended to allow Melissa to be treated like the bad guy. She had a right to know the truth. And if William weren’t so riddled with grief over his daughter’s disappearance and his uncle’s suicide, he would see that.
“What do we do now?”
Jonathan met her gaze. Those big blue eyes held more pain than any one human should have to bear. “We move on to the one logical remaining person of interest.”
Melissa nodded. “Carol Talbot.”
“The chief’s actions aren’t completely consistent with those of a man who wants to protect his wife’s reputation. He’s certainly protecting her in every other way. But not on this count. He could easily refute the allegations by charging that Harry had been delusional and suggested these things to Rayburn as a result of those delusions. Harry isn’t here to defend himself or to say otherwise. Neither is Rayburn.”
“You think there’s more.”
Jonathan didn’t want to give Melissa false hope, but she needed the truth right now. He couldn’t ensure she got that from anyone else, but she was getting it from him. “My guess is he doesn’t want her to become more collateral damage in this case. Four people are dead. Polly is still missing. And no one knows a damned thing, particularly the police who are investigating the case.”
“That makes sense.” Melissa shrugged. “Both he and Carol could deny the affair.” She closed her eyes and exhaled a heavy breath. “I didn’t have a clue. I doubt very many others did, either. Now the chief just wants to protect her from what? Accessory to murder? Conspiracy to commit kidnapping?”
“Exactly. Otherwise, why go to such lengths?” The more they discussed the theory, the more convinced Jonathan grew that the chief was covering for something his wife either knew or had done.
“There’s no logical reason.” The same realization that had dawned on him widened Melissa’s eyes. “She knows something. Saw something.” Melissa turned her hands up. “Something that could make her appear
guilty.”
“That’s my thinking.”
Fear abruptly froze in her eyes. “Oh, God. She may know...” Melissa hugged her arms around her middle. “She may have witnessed someone hurting Polly. May have had some part in it.” Melissa looked ready to crumple emotionally. “He’s definitely protecting her from any criminal charges.”
Jonathan went to her. He knelt in front of her and took her shoulders in his hands, gave her a gentle shake. “We don’t know that. All we can be relatively certain of is that she knows something. We’re going to operate on the theory that Polly is alive and out there somewhere waiting to be found. Carol may be able to lead us to her.”
Melissa searched his eyes. He tried to show her the hope, the certainty he felt, but she shook her head. “If that’s all she knows—Polly’s location—why wouldn’t the chief just go get Polly and tell the world that his amazing investigative skills are responsible for solving the case? No one would ever know his wife told him where to look. It’s worse than that. I can feel it.”
Jonathan couldn’t deny that possibility. “For now,” he urged, “let’s not lose hope.”
Melissa laughed but the sound was filled with pain. “This coming from the man who wouldn’t give me the slightest inkling of hope that he could ever love me?” She shook her head. “Jonathan, I don’t know how I’d have gotten through this so far without your help.” She touched his face, just the slightest caress of his jaw. “But I know you too well. You can’t love me the way I love you. You said so yourself. I appreciate that you’re trying to keep me bolstered now in this awful, awful time. But don’t pretend you know what you’re talking about when it comes to hope.”
She shook her head. “Or that kind of love. The kind that would make a man go against the grain of all he is to protect the woman he loves the way Chief Talbot is obviously doing for his wife.”
Jonathan stood. “I can’t deny those charges.” He crossed the room and stared out the window. He’d never been any good at moments like this, but he had to try.
Whatever his and Melissa’s past, whatever their present, a child was missing and by God he intended to do whatever he could to find her.
