To Write a Wrong

by Robin Caroll

  “I’m going to kill him.” Hayden pushed off the rail.

  Riley laid a hand on his arm. “Don’t. And don’t run over there and give her the third degree for not telling you. It won’t help, and she’ll only clam up. You’ll alienate her and she’ll feel betrayed by me, so she won’t have anyone she can tell.”

  “So what am I supposed to do?”

  “Wait and see what happens. Try to be an unobvious buffer. I’ll beg her to take me to lunch or something tomorrow after my doctor’s appointment so she’ll break her date with him.”

  “The whole point of her taking you to the appointment is to break a routine in case anyone’s following you and to have you go there and straight back here.” He flicked a finger against the end of her nose.

  “Then I’ll tell her she has to come back with me so I won’t go crazy in my forced exile. Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.”

  The door swung open and Rafe stood in the doorway. “Hey, supper’s getting cold. Is everything settled?”

  The sun had set while they’d talked. She hadn’t even noticed the dusk-to-dawn lights flick on.

  Riley bit her bottom lip and raised her brows at Hayden. She needed him to say it was okay because she needed to tell Emily that Hayden knew before he just blurted it out. If they were to maintain any type of friendship, Emily had to hear it from Riley.

  He nodded. “Come on, let’s go eat. What did Mom cook?” He placed his hand in the small of her back and they followed Rafe into the house.

  “Chicken and dumplings. I’m starved.” Rafe led the way.

  Riley let Hayden lead her into the kitchen. She hadn’t promised she would go straight to her doctor’s appointment and straight back.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Good will come to those who are generous and lend freely, who conduct their affairs with justice.”

  PSALM 112:5

  “Here’s what we know about Oswald Vance.” Bob stood before Hayden’s desk, reading from a file. Rafe sat in the chair.

  “Sit down. You’re making my neck hurt.” Hayden motioned to the chair.

  Bob sat, then continued reading. “Born in March, thirty years ago, to Fred and Karen Vance. Lived in Denham Springs, nice suburban house. Two-car garage. Nothing fancy, but quite comfortable.”

  Although he’d get a copy of the report, Hayden took notes. It helped him remember facts. Even the obscure ones. Fred Vance. The name rang a bell . . .

  “Father owned an antique shop. Did pretty well. Again, nothing fancy but quite comfortable. Oswald was a high school track star. Got a scholarship to LSU. Was the golden boy. But late in his senior year, he was diagnosed with a type of bone cancer. Had his leg amputated. The dad couldn’t deal, so he left. Scholarship was revoked. Kid got hooked on painkillers.”

  There was the connection. Hayden’s blood rushed. “How long ago?”

  “Thirteen years ago. According to the medical records, the leg could have been saved with a new surgery, but his insurance company wouldn’t allow it. Said it was experimental. Guess who managed the insurance company?”

  “For Your Health.”

  Bob nodded. “Bingo.”

  “We have motive.” Hayden smiled at Rafe.

  “There’s more.” Bob interrupted. “After it all, his mother became depressed. She went through the gamut of antidepressants and painkillers with the kid.”

  “It all fits. The insurance. The drugs.” Hayden snapped his fingers as something else slipped into place.

  “What?” Rafe asked.

  “The money for Manchester.”

  Rafe’s eyes widened. “Drug money.”

  Hayden nodded. “It all connects.” He pointed at Bob. “What else?”

  “There’s nothing on paper after he’s released from prison and is denied the name change.”

  That kept bothering him. “Hey, send Fontenot down to the state courthouse. Have him manually pull all the name changes for the six months following Vance’s pardon. I don’t think he’d wait too long. I’m sure the paperwork is buried, but there should be something there. Even if it’s just the judge’s docket for the day. Find me something.”

  “Yes, sir.” Bob was up and out the door in less than a minute.

  Rafe stared at Hayden. “What are we missing? There has to be something.”

  Hayden shook his head and looked over his notes. “Motive, means, and opportunity. Everything fits. Oswald Vance is our guy.”

  “But who is he now?”

  “That’s what we have to find out.”

  A knock sounded, then Officer Gaston stepped inside the office. “I pulled everything I could find on Cam and Darryl Thayer, sir.” He handed Hayden a file. “And the copy of the Wilson trial transcript that you requested.” He passed that along as well, then slipped out of the office.

  “Thayer?” Rafe asked.

  “The pawnshop owner Riley went to visit yesterday and his brother.” He opened the folder.

  “And the Wilson trial transcript?”

  “The family Riley’s been writing about.” He wished Rafe weren’t so perceptive.

  And that Gaston didn’t talk so much.

  “So, you’re helping Riley with her investigation?”

  Hayden tented his hands over the open file. “Trying to keep her from getting out there, digging into stuff on her own, and finding trouble.”

  “Uh-huh. And that . . . date you took her on the other night?” Rafe leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and scrutinizing Hayden.

  So they were going to have this conversation now. “Yes, I took her out. On a date. A real date.”

  Rafe raised his eyebrows.

  “I like her, okay? She’s a grown woman, Rafe. I think we have a chance at something, and I plan to do everything in my power to give it a go.” The hot flashes his mother complained about had nothing on the heat rushing up the back of his neck. “Okay with you?”

  “It depends.”

  He hadn’t expected that response. “On what?”

  Rafe leaned forward, resting his forearms on the edge of Hayden’s desk. “Your intentions. See, Riley’s had a couple of really bad relationships. Sure, she picked them, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t get hurt. I don’t want to see her get hurt again.”

  “I’m not playing with her, Rafe.”

  “I didn’t think you were. But you need to proceed very carefully. Riley lives in Tennessee. You live here in Louisiana.”

  “Just like you lived in Arkansas and Remington lived in Louisiana when y’all met.”

  “True. But Rem had ties left in Arkansas she’d never severed. She knew she’d have to return one day.” He grinned. “I’m just glad she decided to come back when I did.”

  Hayden nodded.

  “But Riley has nothing here in Louisiana. You’re the police commissioner, and I don’t see you leaving your post. Your mom and sister are here. You’re settled in Hopewell.”

  It was logical, but that didn’t mean Hayden wanted to hear it.

  “Riley’s just finding her footing in her career. When she finishes this series and goes back, she’ll have her choice of plum selections. Maddie’s in Tennessee, the only mother figure Ri’s had since Mom and Dad died.”

  Hayden swallowed. Again. “So, what you’re telling me is to back off? For Riley’s sake?”

  “I’m not saying that. I’m just pointing out the obvious. There are hurdles. You need to decide if you’re willing to jump them. All I’m asking you to do is make that decision before my baby sister gets hurt.” Rafe ran a hand across his chin. “Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah. I know.” Hayden dropped his gaze to the desk, not wanting to discuss Riley’s and his relationship anymore. “I hear what you’re saying. Riley and I h
ave barely discussed the obstacles.” But that didn’t mean he could just turn off his feelings for her. He flipped through the transcript, focusing on the testimony of Cam Thayer. “I’ll think about what you said, okay?”

  “That’s all I can ask.” But Rafe’s tone didn’t sound happy in the least.

  His gaze landed on part of Wilson’s testimony. Hayden jerked upright. “Hang on a second.” He flipped the page in the report, then grabbed the copies of documents they’d received from Governor Eason.

  “What?”

  “You aren’t going to believe this.” He went back and forth through everything. It couldn’t be this much of a coincidence.

  “Okay. Fill me in.” Rafe cocked his head.

  “The check used to blackmail Eason . . .”

  “Yeah?”

  “Guess what the date is on it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “The night of the museum break-in.”

  Rafe sat up straighter. “What’s the date Eason received the note?”

  Hayden held up the copy. “The next day.”

  “So that means, the records had to be stolen from the museum that night.”

  “Yep. And it’s possible, just possible, that the robbery was a cover-up for what they were really after.”

  Rafe pointed at the paper. “A copy of that check.”

  “Which means, not only is Riley dead-on in her assessment that Wilson is innocent and was framed—”

  “But her series is the reason Oswald put out a hit on her.”

  Hayden nodded. “Because she dug where he’d left a loose end. If the true theft that night was the records and not the artifacts and Riley swears Thayer’s lying, Thayer just might be able to tell us who Oswald is now.”

  Rafe shot to his feet. “What are we waiting for?”

  Hayden’s blood rushed as he grabbed his keys.

  He was so close to the truth, he could almost touch it. But while excited, he also knew that as soon as he solved the case, he’d have to resolve his feelings for Riley . . . and what to do about them.

  “It feels strange not to have the sling.” Riley gently moved her shoulder. The pain wasn’t as bad as right after it happened.

  “Glad you’re healing. That sling did nothing for your outfits.” Emily chuckled as they made their way back to her car.

  “Um, Emily. I need to tell you something.”

  “That sounds serious.” Emily unlocked the car with her key-chain remote as they approached. “What?”

  “Can we get in the car first?”

  They got into the car. Emily twisted in the seat to stare at her. “Okay, what’s going on?”

  “I told Hayden about Thomas.”

  Emily’s face fell. “I asked you not to.”

  “I know, I know. And I’m sorry.” She reached out to grab Emily’s arm.

  Emily shrugged out of her touch.

  “I’m just really worried about you. I think he’s dangerous.”

  “I can handle him. He’s just a bully.” Emily turned the key in the ignition. “It’s my business. You had no right.”

  “I know. I’m so sorry.” On one hand, she really was. But she knew something was off.

  “I’m going to lunch with him today to tell him if he doesn’t straighten up, we’re finished for good.” Emily’s voice warbled a little.

  “Oh, Emily. You should be done with him already. Look at what he’s done to you.”

  “I told you, that was an accident.”

  “Come on. We both know that’s not exactly true.” Riley’s chest ached. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

  “Why would I agree?”

  “Just humor me.”

  “What?”

  Riley let out a long breath. “Let’s go to his shop. You tell him you’re going to have lunch with me instead of him. If he’s gracious about you standing him up, then I’ll shut up and butt out of your business.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  “But,” Riley said, “if he throws a fit or loses his temper in any way, you break it off with him then and there.” She eased the seat belt into place. “Deal?”

  Emily sat there for a long moment. “Okay. Deal.”

  Riley motioned to the road. “Then let’s go.”

  They drove most of the way in silence, until finally, Emily sighed. “I’m mad at you for telling Hay when I told you not to, don’t get me wrong, but thanks for being concerned about me.”

  Riley grinned. “No problem. I kinda like you. Even if you are a bit of a freak.”

  “Ha.” Emily turned into the parking lot of a large building.

  The front of the store had a simple sign: Vince Antiques. Not very creative. Or original.

  Riley stepped out of the car and followed Emily inside. The place was neat, smelling of furniture polish and air freshener. A bell over the door tinkled.

  A young man, no more than twenty, smiled at Emily. “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Simpson.”

  “You too, Michael. Is Thomas here?”

  “Yes, ma’am. In the back. I’ll get him for you.”

  Riley shook her head. “Don’t give him warning. He’ll have time to prepare his reaction,” she whispered.

  Emily rolled her eyes. “No, that’s okay. I want to surprise him.”

  Michael grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Emily led the way into the back of the store, then down a hall. She stopped outside a closed door. “Here we go.” She opened the door.

  “I don’t care. I said I—” Thomas stood. “I’ll have to call you back,” he said into the phone before hanging it up. His expression was unreadable as his gaze darted between Emily and Riley. “This is a surprise.”

  “Yes. Well. Riley wanted to see the shop, so I thought I’d bring her by.” Emily’s voice trembled a bit.

  “How nice.” Thomas smiled, but it was almost as if he were baring his teeth. “Are you interested in anything specific?”

  “Not really. I love antiques, and have thought about doing an article on them.” She smiled, trying to gauge his reaction to their being here unexpectedly. He was hard to read. No doubt they’d surprised him.

  That tone he used on the phone when they’d come in . . . it sure was harsh.

  “Really? Perhaps I should show you around.”

  “Well, I don’t know if we have time right now for me to really look hard.” She raised a brow to Emily.

  “Oh. Yeah.” Emily turned, facing Thomas. “About lunch . . .”

  Riley didn’t want to appear obvious, so she turned to look at the items hanging on the wall.

  “I was thinking perhaps . . .”

  A pastel. Really ugly painting.

  “. . . we could have lunch another day. Riley . . .”

  An old China plate.

  “. . . just left the doctor’s appointment . . .”

  Riley froze. “Where did you get this?” She pointed at the frame closest to Thomas’s desk.

  Matted inside the brassy frame were several Confederate coins and buttons. Just like the ones pictured in Armand’s case file as one of the unrecovered stolen artifacts.

  Chapter Thirty

  “This is what the LORD says to you, house of David: ‘Administer justice every morning; rescue from the hand of the oppressor the one who has been robbed, or my wrath will break out and burn like fire because of the evil you have done—burn with no one to quench it.’”

  JEREMIAH 21:12

  Hayden pulled into the pawnshop’s parking lot amid an ambulance and several Baton Rouge police cruisers. He stepped onto the pavement, Rafe on his heels, and approached the area taped off. “What’s going on here?”

  A policeman stopped him. “I’m sorry, s
ir. You can’t come any farther.”

  Pulling out his badge, Hayden nodded at the door to the pawnshop. “What happened?”

  The cop lifted the crime-scene tape for them to duck under. “Homicide.”

  “Who?” Hayden asked.

  “You’ll have to ask the lieutenant inside. Lieutenant York’s in charge.”

  “Thanks.” Hayden and Rafe made their way into the shop.

  Several police officers wearing blue latex gloves milled about. A crime unit dusted for prints.

  Hayden addressed one of the uniforms. “I’m looking for a Lieutenant York.”

  The cop jutted his chin in the direction of the counter. “She’s over there.”

  They approached the counter. Shattered glass littered the floor. Blood pooled under the counter, oozing from the other side.

  “May I help you?” a woman in a well-worn suit asked.

  Hayden introduced himself and Rafe, flashing his badge. “I’m looking for Lieutenant York.”

  “That’s me. What are you doing here? This isn’t even close to your jurisdiction.”

  “I know.” Hayden pocketed his badge. “I was actually coming to ask the shop’s owner, Cam Thayer, a couple of questions about a trial he testified at several years ago.”

  “Well, if the ID in the pocket is any indication, your boy is lying face down behind the counter. A .22 slug between his eyes.”

  “Robbery?” Hayden noticed the cash register open.

  “Maybe. Too early in the investigation to answer.”

  Seemed really coincidental that Riley was here yesterday asking Thayer about his testimony, and this morning he was dead.

  And Hayden didn’t believe in coincidences.

  “Anything significant?”

  “Like?”

  “Nothing. We’ll get out of your way. Thank you.” Hayden turned to head out of the pawnshop when two chairs caught his attention. Well, not so much the chairs themselves, but the card sitting on them.

  It had the description and the price, then the very bottom line read:

  Appraised by Vince Antiques, Hopewell, Louisiana.