Tell Me No Lies (An Ava Logan Mystery Book 1)

by Lynn Chandler Willis

  “You have Ivy at the office?”

  Her goofy grin made me smile. “What else was I supposed to do with her?”

  “Why can’t Doretha babysit?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, I’m sure she could. I just thought it might be best for a few days to have some degree of stability, you know?”

  “Doretha’s not stable?” He was smiling. I could see it in my mind.

  “You know what I mean. Look, I’ve got to go. Thanks for the press release.” He had some nerve to even call it that.

  “Hey—why don’t you meet me for lunch and we’ll go over this, um…situation.”

  My mind raced with thoughts. We had several situations between us. Which one was he referring to? “You mean Ivy?”

  “Well, no, not really. About the witness versus publisher thing.”

  “Oh, that situation.”

  My throat tightened at the thought of sitting across from him in a booth. Then I cursed myself for letting our past creep back into the present.

  “Bring your notepad. It’ll be a working lunch. I’m meeting Trish’s parents at the morgue at two, so how does noon sound?”

  I pushed away the thought of Trish’s bloody body lying in the basement of Jackson Creek Hospital. “Noon’s fine. Minnie’s Cafe?”

  “I’ll see you there.”

  I held the phone a moment after he hung up. I had to find a way to let go of this hurt before it dragged me so far down, I’d never find my way back.

  Ivy squealed, bringing me back to reality, and pointed to the baggie of cookies in her diaper bag. “Ookie!”

  I gave her a cookie for each hand then kissed the top of her head and sat her back on the ground, hoping she’d stay there long enough for me to call Justin Baker before he did another drive-by.

  “Trish was beat to death?” Nola spun around in her seat, seizing the opportunity.

  What was I going to do? It was out there. I had said it, I couldn’t deny it now. I slowly nodded. “Yeah, but…that’s not public knowledge so we need to keep it under wraps. At least for now.”

  “Oh sure. Sure.” She nodded so fast her hair bounced. “Of course. She had such a pretty face.” She grimaced as if she was being tortured.

  I watched Ivy eating her cookies for a moment, not wanting to have this conversation. Once everything was made public, it was one I was going to have to get used to having. “It’s a real sensitive situation. I have more knowledge of the case than I normally would, so we have to be careful what we let out. Make sense?”

  Nola pinched her lips together in a tight smile then gestured as if she were zipping her mouth closed. “Me, you, and Betsy.”

  The phone rang, giving me a reprieve for the moment. As Nola spun around in her chair to grab the call, I rifled through the stack of messages on my desk. Justin, the mayor, had called several times. I wondered what that was about. The town council was always in one crisis or another, but they usually behaved during tourist season and election time. Just as I picked up the phone to call Justin, Rick burst through the front door. He hurriedly approached my desk, all but tripping over Ivy. He stared at her for a moment like Quinn had, like he wasn’t sure what she was.

  He finally peeled his eyes away from her. “Why haven’t you returned any of my calls?”

  His abruptness ruffled a feather. “I just didn’t feel like talking with anyone.”

  He was in lawyer mode, probably on his way to court in his coat and tie. He glanced back down at Ivy then over at Nola, then back to me. “Can we talk in your office, please?”

  Nola cleared her throat then came over and scooped up Ivy. “Aunt Nola’s got something fun for this little girl. We’re going to make a paper clip bracelet.”

  The verdict was still out on whether or not I should thank her. I foresaw an argument with Rick coming and I wasn’t in the mood. Still, I turned and headed down the short hallway to the smaller storage room, also known as my office. Rick followed at my heels and closed the door behind us.

  “What the hell’s going on, Ava? I have to hear it from Judge Hoffler that you’re the one who found the body?”

  “Judge Hoffler?”

  “Yeah. Seems everyone in town except me knew it.”

  I leaned against the secondhand desk and exhaled until there was no breath left. “Rick, I’m sorry. I really am. I just wanted it to—not be real. And I sure didn’t want to have to talk about it again.”

  “Again?” His brows arched. “Who’d you talk to?”

  “Detective Sullivan, Sheriff Ridge…”

  “You talked to…” He rolled his eyes, then his shoulders, then took a deep breath. “You talked to the Sheriff without an attorney present?”

  He was making way more out of this than I was comfortable with. “Rick—I literally tripped over Trish’s body. I didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t feel the need for an attorney.”

  He put off enough steam to power a small engine. “Ava! You just said it yourself—you found the body. From now on, you don’t talk to Grayson or Sullivan without me there. Got it?”

  “No—I don’t got it. I didn’t do anything wrong, Rick. I’m not a suspect. I’m a witness.”

  “Oh. Thanks for the clarification. I wasn’t sure about the difference.” He spun around and faced the door.

  I watched his shoulders rise and fall underneath his suit coat before I looked away. He was a good man with a bad habit of telling people what to do. He’d make a good husband for someone who didn’t mind that sort of thing. I did.

  He turned around slowly and opened his arms, offering an invitation I hesitated to accept. “I’m sorry. I was just really worried about you.”

  Nodding, I relented and accepted his embrace. Despite my best effort to not sink into his comfort, I did. His arms felt good around me. Sometimes he treated me like a child, him an authority, a take-control type. Sometimes I let him. He stroked my hair then lightly kissed my forehead. “I need to get to court. Can I come by tonight?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay. Then I’ll see you later.” He gave me a quick kiss before opening the door.

  Justin Baker was at Nola’s desk when we returned to the front office. He was thirty-eight years old, married with two adorable kids, and owned a quaint bed and breakfast nestled in downtown Jackson Creek. He and his wife moved here from Cleveland before their kids were born. The fact he wasn’t born here made him forever thought of as an outsider. A damn Yankee. But he still managed to get himself elected mayor. “Ava. We’ve got a problem.” He gave Rick a pleasant smile as he left.

  My energy drained like I’d sprung a slow leak. “What kind of problem do we have, Justin?”

  He patted Ivy on the head, mussing her hair, then came over and helped himself to the guest chair beside my desk. “Residents are wanting to know what’s being done about the murder.”

  I glanced over at Ivy. Still at Nola’s desk, she scribbled on copy paper with different colors of highlighters. Pushing my fingers through my hair, I sat down across from Justin. “The sheriff’s department is handling it, Justin.”

  “But it’s been a long time since there was a murder in Jackson Creek. Has Sheriff Ridge ever even investigated a murder?”

  Honestly, I didn’t know. But I’d never let Justin be the wiser. “Justin—Sheriff Ridge and his detectives are more than capable. I really don’t think the residents have anything to worry about.”

  He studied me for a moment. “So they don’t think it was random?”

  I fought back the urge to smile, even the slightest hint of a grin. “I didn’t say that.”

  We stared at one another as if we were in a contest. Finally, he nodded. “I guess there’s not much we can do but wait.”

  “I’m glad you see it that way. As mayor, I’m sure Sheriff Ridge will
keep you informed.” I looked at the messages on my desk, tapping them with my finger. “Is there anything else? I really do need to get to work.”

  He cleared his throat. “Yeah, now that you mention it. Calvin Cooper is going to be contacting you about the poaching on his land again. He’s got his panties all in a wad and wants something done about it.”

  My brows lowered on their own. “Why did he contact you about it? Calvin’s property isn’t even in the town limits.”

  Justin rolled his eyes, more exasperated than sarcastic. “I don’t know. I’m just relaying the message. He wants you to investigate it. Nothing against Quinn.”

  That was a common request. I founded the paper so people assumed I was a star reporter. Truth was, Quinn was top notch. “Why doesn’t he contact the sheriff’s department?”

  “He has. At least he says he has. He said Ridge told him they didn’t have the manpower to look into poaching.”

  Ivy toddled over and plopped her empty juice cup in my lap with a demand for more. Nola started over but I waved her off. “I’ll get it.” I swung Ivy up on my hip and carried her to the kitchen. One-handed, I refilled her cup with apple juice from the fridge then carried her back to the front. Justin was still at my desk.

  As Ivy played in the floor, he gazed at her with sympathetic eyes, the eyes of a father with young daughters at home. “If the sheriff was too busy to investigate the poaching problem before…” he said, speaking slow and deliberate. “I imagine now that they have a murder on their hands, it’s really going to take a backseat.”

  What he said was probably true, but I could smell an attempt to manipulate an election story brewing.

  “I’m not telling you what to write, but poaching has been a problem in the past.”

  If I had a dime for every time someone had told me they weren’t telling me what to write, I could retire a very rich woman. I sucked in a deep breath then smiled politely. “I’ll look into it.”

  He pursed his lips as he stared at me. “Fair enough.”

  Ivy lifted her arms, wanting in my lap. I lifted her up, brushing my fingers through her curls.

  “What’s going to happen to her?” Justin asked, his voice softer, speaking as a father and not the mayor.

  I continued stroking her hair while she sipped her juice. “I don’t know. Trish’s parents are coming in today to identify the body. I guess it’ll be up to them.”

  He reached out and gently touched Ivy’s cheek. “So sad. She looks about the same age as my youngest.”

  I hugged her a little tighter then kissed the top of her head. “Yeah,” I whispered. “So sad.”

  CHAPTER 5

  Around noon, I walked into Minnie’s Cafe carrying Ivy on my hip. Sympathetic stares and sad smiles greeted us. I knew Ivy didn’t understand but still wanted to tell her she would be okay, after a while the sympathy would fade and she’d just be the girl with the murdered mom, as I had always been the girl with the mom in prison.

  The diner was a cinderblock building with a blue tin roof folks said they could spot from a mountain summit. The daily specials, including fish on Thursdays rather than Fridays because Minnie liked being different, were handwritten on copy paper and taped to the front door.

  Ridge was in the last booth and waved me over. A highchair was positioned at the end of the booth, even though I’d told him I would drop Ivy off at Doretha’s. It was scary how well he knew me.

  He stood and held the highchair while I slid Ivy into it then buckled the strap. “How’s she doing?”

  “Good, I guess. She’s asked for Mommy a couple times.”

  “And how are you answering her?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t. I just kinda ignore it. Probably not the correct thing to do, but right now it’s all I’ve got.”

  He smiled. “I won’t report you. How’re Emma and Cole?”

  “Cole seems fine. Emma slept with me Saturday night and again last night. She says Ivy wants her to.” I lifted a brow.

  He grinned. “Did you confirm that with Ivy?”

  Before I could respond, Diane, part-owner and head waitress, dropped two menus and napkin-wrapped silverware on the table. She lightly stroked Ivy’s hair. “So sorry to hear about Trish. Such a tragedy.”

  She took our drink order without further conversation. When she returned with our drinks, Ridge ordered the steak and cheese and I ordered the chicken wrap for me and nuggets for Ivy. What kid didn’t like nuggets?

  “Any leads?” I took a sip of water.

  Ridge half smiled, one corner of his lip arching upward in a noncommittal way. “We were able to get some pretty decent prints.”

  The horrific image of Trish’s bloodied face would be with me for a long while, stuck in my head like something you couldn’t un-see. I knew enough to know who ever did it was in a rage. “I’m sure you’ll find my and Cole’s prints everywhere.”

  “Do you remember touching anything in particular?”

  After some thought, I shook my head. “Nothing comes to mind except the counter. I remember grabbing the kitchen counter to keep from falling in all the blood.”

  Ivy pointed at my cup and said “juish.” I dug her sippy cup out of my bag and when I handed it to her, she clapped. Such a happy little kid.

  Ridge playfully drummed his fingers on the highchair tray, playing a silly game of snatch with Ivy. She’d cackle and grab for his fingers just as he pulled them back. About every third try, he’d let her grab hold. He used to play the same game with Emma.

  I took a big gulp of water to drown the memories. Of Tommy, of Grayson Ridge, and of a place we never should have been.

  “So.” I was anxious to put that thought aside. “What information are you going to release to the public? I pulled my notepad and pen from my bag.

  He stopped drumming his fingers and glanced at me, my pen poised and ready. “Well, although we’ll have to wait for the coroner’s official report, the death does appear to be suspicious.”

  If my stare held toxins, he’d be paralyzed. “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “Seriously.”

  Diane balanced our plates as well as two from the next table on her arms. “Need anything else?” She sat our orders down in front of us.

  “I’m good. Ava?”

  My reply was a curt nod, the sharpness directed more at Ridge than Diane. She quickly moved on the next table. I plucked a nugget from Ivy’s plate and laid it on the tray along with a couple of fries. Did she want ketchup for her fries? Sauce for her nuggets? So many things about this child yet to be learned.

  Once Ivy was settled and content with her food, I turned back to Ridge. He was already a couple bites into his sandwich.

  “The death appears to be suspicious? What kind of B.S. is that?”

  He swallowed a mouthful then looked up at me. “It’s not B.S. It’s a fact.”

  “Oh, come on, Grayson—it certainly wasn’t accidental. We know it was suspicious.”

  “See. You just admitted it was a fact.”

  The man infuriated me to no end. I sank my teeth into the chicken wrap and tore off a chunk. He handed Ivy another nugget, then sighed and leaned back in the booth. “I’m sorry. I’m really not trying to be a smart ass—”

  “Oh, you don’t have to try. It comes pretty natural for you.”

  He raked a hand through his hair while struggling to curtail a wicked grin. “As I was saying, until the coroner confirms the cause of death, I can’t officially offer anything else.”

  He was right, as much as it pained me to admit it. Nothing would be published that wasn’t official anyway, so why did I get so worked up about it? The man had a knack for confusing my every thought.

  Ivy pointed to the plate of nuggets and babbled something only she understood. I handed her another one, along with a few
more fries.

  After a deep cleansing breath and concession of what I knew to be true, I gave in. “Can I call a truce?”

  Although his smile was slight, the sincerity in his eyes ran deep. “Sure. I don’t want to be the enemy, Ava.”

  Ten years of pushing him away landed square in my chest, crushing the breath right out of me. You never were the enemy.

  “Look, we’ll have more information after we meet with Trish’s parents and the coroner. Your deadline is Wednesday, right?” Those eyes of his bore straight through me.

  “I go to print Wednesday. I have to have it tomorrow.”

  We let the weight of the deadline settle over us with silence. I was about to take another bite of my chicken wrap when Ed Stinger, Ridge’s opponent, slid beside me into the booth. He was fifty-four, stick thin with a bracelet of age spots around his bony wrist.

  “Ava. Grayson.” He offered a nod in each of our directions. “I hope you’re not giving my opponent free press time.” He laughed, but he was grossly serious.

  Ridge pushed his tongue into the side of his cheek and grinned.

  Would the feeling of needing to defend being within a thirty-mile radius of Grayson Ridge ever go away? “No free press, Ed. Just discussing a case.”

  Stinger partially turned in the booth, draping an arm across the back. His hand rested on my shoulder. “Good. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Calvin contacted me about the poaching problem on his property. Seems it’s really getting out of hand and nothing’s being done about it. No disrespect, Grayson.”

  Ridge smiled but the truth shone in his eyes. He loathed Ed Stinger almost as much as I did. “None taken.”

  “Calvin and I were thinking if we could get you personally to do an article on it, it might draw some attention to it. Maybe someone’s seen something and it might give them a little nudge to come forward. Know what I mean?”