Had she said or done something wrong last night when they’d spoken? No, he’d seemed fine when he returned her purse, even a bit like they were old friends, and they’d ended their call before bed with congeniality.
She plugged her phone in to charge on the nightstand and limped into the bathroom to get ready, her ankle less sore than the night before but still swollen. The mirror reflected a face she didn’t expect. Knotted hair and puffy eyes told the truth of the night’s missed sleep. Bruising above her right eye and swelling around the stitches on her forehead taunted her to replay the events of Friday night in her mind, reminded her that her life was in danger. She pulled her hair back into a clip and brushed her teeth.
She had to take these thoughts captive, or she wouldn’t be able to function in the days ahead. Marina removed a washcloth from the linen closet and saturated it with the hot water flowing from the faucet. She bent over the sink and covered her face with the cloth. A moan escaped her as the heat soothed her weary eyes.
After applying a minimal amount of makeup to hide the effects of her accident and the fatigue from not sleeping well, she brushed the tangles out of her long bob and forced it into a ponytail. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she dashed toward her bedroom to keep from missing the call. Sudden pain in her ankle reminded her of the extent of her injuries, and she winced. She needed to keep the pressure off her ankle, so she plopped on the bed.
The phone screen lit up with Iris’s face. Mack must have told her about the accident. She answered the call. “Good morning.” Clearing the morning’s hoarseness from her throat, she pushed down her desire to question Iris about the money.
“How are you?”
“I’m recuperating.”
“Mack told me what happened to you. I can’t believe it. He said you looked rough.”
“Yeah, bruised ribs and ankle, stitches in my head, a burn on my leg from spilled coffee. I can’t think of anywhere that isn’t hurting right now.” Including her heart.
“You’ll be okay, though. Right?”
“Yes. I have to stay off my foot this week and can’t lift anything heavy for a while because of my ribs, so it’s a good thing we closed the business this week.”
“Mack didn’t say how the wreck happened.”
Marina leaned back against her pillows. “I didn’t tell him. We only talked for a few minutes.”
“So how did it happen?”
How much could she say without damaging the investigation—both hers and Steven’s? “I’d forgotten some things I wanted to work on while we were closed for the week, so I headed back over to the office after I went out to eat with Lisa from the new development in town we’re submitting a landscaping quote on. I rounded that last curve before our drive, the one I hate so much, and some guy ran out in front of me. Right there past the O’Reilly ranch.”
Iris gasped. “You hit someone? Someone’s actual body?”
Marina rubbed her throbbing ankle which could always carry an ache and remind her of the accident. “I sure did. I lost control of my car and landed in that terrible embankment. I vaguely remember that part happening. I woke up trapped with a dead guy sticking through the windshield.”
“Marina! Aren’t you completely traumatized?”
Traumatized. That was the perfect word for how it felt to hit someone, even more disturbing knowing her victim wasn’t a stranger. Iris couldn’t know she’d hit Jason, though—not yet anyway. “That’s an understatement. The guy’s now missing. That’s the worst part of this whole thing.” Oh, and her business partner was potentially cheating her out of money—but she couldn’t say that either.
A roar of laughter filled her ear from the other end of the phone, and she scowled.
“Shhh, you guys, I’m on the phone! What did you say, Marina? The guy’s missing?”
“Yep! I freed myself from the car, made it to the street, and nearly got run over by some guy in a truck who then shot at me and the detective. When the detective made it to my car to check things out, the guy was gone. I don’t know if someone took him, or if he wasn’t dead and he somehow managed to get free from my windshield and get away.”
“I can’t believe this. It’s like something from a horror movie.”
Waking up tilted on your side, blood covering your body, a dead man suspended in front of you. Yes, a horror movie in real life. “You’re not joking. And it doesn’t make sense. Why was a man out there on foot at night? He was obviously running from someone for him to dart out in front of me like a deer. It’s so crazy.” Marina shuddered.
“I wish I was there for you. I hope you’re going to stay home this week and rest. Try to forget about that nightmare.”
“I have to stay home. My car was totaled, you’re out of town, and my parents are on their mission trip. The doctors said I should stay in bed as much as possible. I’m going to order in and watch movies. I don’t think I’ll be forgetting this nightmare any time soon, but I sure am going to try.” She couldn’t let Iris know she, in truth, planned to investigate her. Iris would never forgive her.
“That sounds like more fun than I’ll be having. My three siblings and their spouses and children are all here at Mama’s. It’s a madhouse. Wanna trade places?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this because I could go for your mom’s curry goat and plantains right now, but no.” Under any other circumstances, she wouldn’t mind spending a few days with a houseful of Iris’s family playing games and eating Jamaican and Chinese food until she almost exploded.
“If you’re sure.”
“I’ll be fine here all by my little lonesome self.” She faked a laugh, and her voice caught in her throat. Would she be fine? After discovering Iris’s apparent betrayal and receiving the text last night, she doubted life would ever go back to normal.
***
Steven knocked on Marina’s door at 1:00 p.m. Sunday afternoon ready to ask her the question which could earn him a slap on the face if he weren’t a detective. Marina wasn’t the kind of woman who responded well to orders—he’d learned that about her already—and she wouldn’t like it when he told her what he needed her to do.
“How do you think she’s going to respond?” his partner asked.
Steven shifted from one foot to the next while swirling the collection of fallen leaves on Marina’s stoop with his feet. “I’m fairly certain she’ll ask us to leave.” Maybe their jeans and casual shirts would put her at ease today.
“Maybe not.”
Steven admired John’s optimism right now. Maybe his hopefulness would be enough for them both. “You haven’t met her yet. Just wait. She’s in her mid-twenties and co-owns one of the most successful local businesses. She isn’t used to being told what to do.”
John shoved his hands into his front pockets. “She doesn’t have much choice. If she doesn’t help us, then she may become a suspect when this gets handed over to the Feds. Or she may be forced into federal protection if we can’t put these people away.”
Steven sighed but donned a smile when Marina opened the door. He didn’t expect the rush which soared through his veins when their gazes met. Even with her bruises and stitches and obvious lack of sleep, she was a beauty to behold. Maybe he should turn this case over to another detective.
“Hi, detectives. Come on in.” She stepped back and allowed them entrance into her townhome, a vanilla-scented candle welcoming them.
Steven stepped over the threshold first, and John followed him. “This is my partner, Detective John Roper.”
“Nice to meet you, Detective.” Marina held out her hand and shook John’s. “Would you guys like coffee or tea? Water? Juice? Anything?”
“I’ll take water if you don’t mind.” John assessed the living area.
“Steven? Would you like something?”
Steven’s face flamed as soon as she uttered his first name. He’d hear about that in the car from John.
“Steven?” she pressed.
The aroma of fresh-p
erked coffee filled the air, and he wanted a cup or two. But John was right. He needed to curb his caffeine addiction. “I’ll take water too.”
He stepped toward the sofa. John followed him. When he stole a glance at John, his partner’s raised right eyebrow told him he’d caught her use of his first name. Not much escaped his notice.
Marina, favoring her injured ankle, returned to the living area with two glasses of water. She placed the glasses on the coffee table and sat on the loveseat across from them. “You said on the phone you’d take an official statement about last night’s text.”
Steven wiped beads of sweat from his upper lip then took a sip of water. He might as well have been a fly caught in a flytrap.
Marina searched his face obviously looking for the personable man she’d been with yesterday.
John all but bored holes in the side of his head with subliminal accusations of his lost professionalism.
“Yes,” he stuttered. “John, will you take notes?”
“Absolutely.” John took out his notepad and pen and made notes of everything Marina said while Steven examined the text message on her phone.
“Since they blocked the number, I’m not sure if the origin of the text can be traced. But we can try if you want us to take your phone to Headquarters.” He handed Marina the phone and sent her an apologetic look.
“If it’s okay, I’ll keep the phone for now. I don’t like being without a way to get help if I need it. You said you had more questions for me about Friday night.”
“Yes.”
“I have a few for you as well.”
“Go ahead.”
Marina shifted on the loveseat and directed her gaze at Steven. “Have you found Jason yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Any leads?”
“Not yet.” Steven couldn’t feel any more like a failure right now.
Marina adjusted the collar of her Dr. Pepper graphic T and folded her hands on her lap. “Should I be scared he’s going to show up at my door to retaliate? I’m sure he’d be angry if he knew I was the one who hit him.”
John took the lead in answering her question while Steven attempted to regain self-confidence. “Ms. Acres, it’s safe to say Jason Burney is dead. The way he came through your windshield suggests there could be no other outcome.”
“Are we looking for a zombie then? I mean, if he’s dead then he got up and walked away dead.”
John continued, “No, ma’am. We believe his body was removed from your windshield to cover up the crimes we believe are occurring inside your company.”
Steven nodded. “We believe he was either a part of things and wanted out, or he found out what was going on and threatened to bring it to light.”
“Things?” Marina laced her fingers and squeezed them together. “Detective Roper, I’ll tell you what I told Detective Pennington. Drugs are not being manufactured and transported out of my company. I’d know if it were happening.”
John leaned forward, elbows on knees, and clasped his hands. “Ma’am, with all due respect, do you walk the property and investigate all the product on a regular basis?”
“No, but—”
“That’s what we figured.” John waved his hands in front of him like an orchestra conductor as he spoke.
Steven loved when John took charge of witnesses, even beautiful witnesses he knew.
“Unless you’ve done so, you cannot say with all certainty this isn’t happening.”
Even though John was taking control of the situation, Steven doubted he’d get Marina to follow his lead.
She pointed at them. “Look, you can believe what you want to believe. I’m busy trying to solve my own investigation. I don’t have time to argue with you about yours.”
“We can help you with yours if you help us with ours.” Steven stood and interlaced his arms across his stomach.
“Nope. What you suspect isn’t related to my company’s issues.”
This wouldn’t be easy. “We need you to search the property for us and do an initial investigation. Then we’ll step in.”
Marina jumped from the loveseat and winced. She grabbed her ribs and took a moment to regroup. Then she redirected her attention to Steven. “You can get a search warrant if you want more information. I’m not helping. If your suspicions are right, I could be next in line behind Jason. I won’t risk death for you.” Marina pushed past him and made her way to the front door. She jerked it open and waited.
Steven took one step toward her. “Marina, reconsider.”
“No, I won’t be your spy, Detective. Now I need you and your partner to leave.”
John exited first and then turned around almost bumping into Steven and stepping on his toes as he lagged behind him. “Ms. Acres, I’m sorry if we’ve offended you or pushed you before you’re ready to help. We’ll be in contact in a day or so.”
She didn’t look at them and focused instead on an old oak tree in the yard by the pool. Still covered in flaming leaves, its roots ran deep. Its trunk and branches held strength. The winds of time hadn’t broken it down and torn it apart. Judging by the obstinate look in her eyes, she wasn’t going to let this destroy her either.
She refocused on them and steadied herself with an arched eyebrow and cocked chin. “Like I said, my issues have nothing to do with your preposterous suspicions of drugs. Unless you have information about Jason or the driver of the truck or the passenger that directly relates to me, don’t bother me.” She stepped inside and slammed the door.
***
Steven pulled out onto Highway 41 and gunned the engine. The quicker he got John back to his car and to his family, the better. John wasn’t the type to hold his observations in for long, and judging by the look he’d given him at Marina’s, he’d have something to say. Years of working together had taught him that much.
He rolled his window down and let the last of the day’s warmth flow into the car. It’d take more than a ridiculous pretzel right now to calm Steven’s agitation. Maybe the noise from the wind and the aroma of deep fried turkey from neighboring fryers would drown out John’s thoughts and squelch his questions.
“What was that?” John accused over the wind.
Steven glanced at him and then back at the road. As he suspected, his questions couldn’t be suppressed. He rolled the window up and acknowledged his partner. “What was what?”
“You know what. That look that passed between you two.”
A lion might as well have gone for his jugular. “What look?”
John growled and massaged his temples. “The look that happened before the war broke out between you two.”
Steven waved his hand to dismiss his concerns. “It’s nothing.” He stopped at a red light and drummed the steering wheel with his fingers.
“That tension between you two isn’t nothing.” John nudged him with his elbow until he gave him his attention. “Steve, you’ve been down that road before. Don’t do it again.”
Steven squeezed his eyebrows together. “I’m not. I met her thirty-six hours ago, man. What are you even talking about?” The light changed, and Steven pressed the accelerator with the speed of a child on Christmas morning going to check out the toys Santa left beneath the tree.
“There was something there.”
“You’re crazy.”
“You let her have control of that appointment and decide we had to leave. You let her ask the questions.”
Steven shook his head. Why was his partner more annoying than a splinter underneath a fingernail? “Yeah, so?”
“You called her by her first name … and she called you by yours.”
“If you must know, she dated Mark and used to attend Singles Night at church. I didn’t recognize her at first. She told me who she was at the hospital.”
“Okay, but there’s something there. You’re letting that previous connection taint this investigation.”
Steven slapped on his left blinker and went around the slow driver in front of him. His patienc
e was about to run out. “Drop it. Okay? I’m not ... I won’t ... forget it.”
Two failed engagements had taught him that while he was a good support initially, he couldn’t provide for a woman’s emotional needs long term. Whatever he was beginning to feel for Marina was nothing more than what any other protector would feel for a victim.
“I’m looking out for you, man.”
Steven glanced at John again then back at the road. “You’re holding my past against me. That’s what you’re doing.”
“No, I’m not. I want you to find a woman. You know that. Or I wouldn’t tease you about it all the time. But you’ve rescued two victims already, and you know it doesn’t last.”
“Because I’m terrible at commitment and love, I know.”
John grabbed Steven’s forearm. “No, because you’re terrible at picking women.”
“I am not.”
“You have this inherent need to protect and to fix things. That’s what makes you a great cop. But you transfer that to your love life, and things always end in disaster because you get involved with injured women. They don’t even need to be in a relationship. You’re walking into a catastrophe, Steven, if you fall for Marina Acres.”
Steven jerked his arm from John’s hand. The trees and road signs blurred as he whizzed past them ten miles per hour over the speed limit toward the church. “Why do you say that? You don’t know her.”
John laughed. “You don’t know her either. And yet, you’re already considering it.”
“I’m not.”
“You are, or else you wouldn’t have defended her that way.”
Steven pulled up to John’s car at the church but didn’t put his SUV in park. Maybe John would get the hint he wanted him to get out and go back to his happy little family.
Clasping the door handle, John sighed. “Pennington, I want you to be happy. Sharon would love nothing more than for you and your woman to come to the house for dinner every Friday night, to get married, to have a million babies. But I don’t want you to try to begin a relationship with someone who’s in a vulnerable situation.”
Grafted into Deceit Page 9
