OUT OF THE BLUE

by Caroline Clemmons

  “No. He already had everything I told him in that stack of papers. Damn, I’d like to get my hands on that file folder.”

  “You and me both.”

  “You catch those silent signals between the chief and Owen or was that my imagination.” Brendan still didn’t understand their visual interchanges.

  “I noticed Chief Fat Ass wasn’t happy about something Owen had told him. As you said, don’t see what purpose getting you in here served in the first place.”

  Brendan walked Kevin toward the Jaguar. “Listen, thanks for coming in with me. You took the wind out of Chief Gordon’s sails. Wish I had a snapshot of the look on Gordon’s face when you walked in with me.”

  “That old blowhard.” Kevin opened his car door. “Wouldn’t know a clue if it walked up and bit him on his dick. If his sister wasn’t wealthy, he’d be lucky to be janitor here.”

  “You’ve got that right. His sister must make major contributions to the local politicians. He hates my guts for having money, even though someone else’s dough guarantees him in his job.”

  “Nope, he hates you because you don’t flaunt it and he would. He’d use it to throw his considerable weight around. Probably never work another day in his life.” Kevin slid into his car. “One thing we know. Someone’s out to frame you. Has to be an inside job.”

  “Yeah, but I can’t figure who.” He remembered Deirdre’s fear of Owen. No, this time she’d made a mistake.

  When Brendan would have shut the door, Kevin blocked it with his hand on the armrest. “Say, I can hold off leaving a couple of hours. Why don’t you grab your lady and come with me to San Francisco? There’s plenty of room for two more in my plane. You could use time away.”

  “M—My lady?”

  Kevin grinned. “Deirdre. The one you keep trying not to mention every time we’ve spoken for the past week or ten days.” Kevin laughed. “And failing. She must be one very special lady.”

  “She is, but I’ll take a rain check on the flight.” Brendan shoved his hands into his pockets. “I didn’t realize I’d talked about her enough to catch your ear.”

  “It’s not what you’ve said, it’s the goofy look on your face when you say it. And on the phone, your voice actually changes when you say her name.” He looked at Brendan and smiled. “Hey, bud, this is me, remember. I know you well.”

  Brendan fought the sheepish grin he knew spread across his face. “You do at that, but I’m paying you not to tell.”

  “Hush money?” Kevin chuckled. “I’m insulted, but not too much to take it.” He started the engine. “Forty-eight hours and I’ll be back. Promise me you won’t get crazy before I return.”

  Brendan laughed. “To quote my hippie mom, ‘I promise I’ll try.’ That’s the best I can offer.” He closed Kevin’s car door.

  He watched Kevin drive away. Hmph, how had Kevin guessed about Deirdre?

  A chill slid up his spine. If Kevin knew, maybe others had guessed. Damn! Maybe that’s why those two thugs in the SUV had tried to kidnap her—not for information on Michelle, but to get back at Brendan.

  Chapter Thirty Three

  Whirling, Brendan strode inside the police station, determined to learn who hired them. He waved at the men he passed and most returned the greeting. A couple glared at him as if he were something they’d scraped off their shoes. Hell, he had to clear his name and soon.

  He headed for Owen’s office. If he could read the chief’s file, maybe he’d see something in there he didn’t know. A clue that might be the puzzle piece to complete the picture. He knocked and heard Owen invite him to enter.

  Owen looked up when Brendan stepped inside. His frowned quickly changed to a smile. Which expression conveyed Owen’s feelings?

  “Thought you left with that fancy lawyer friend of yours. Man sure knows how to dress.”

  “Yes, I did and he does. Look, I need to ask you about this case. Owen, is there anything, no matter how small, that you know and I’ve missed? How could I have been accused?”

  “Everything I know is based on what you’ve said.” Owen stared at him. “Have you told me the whole story?”

  “Are you saying you doubt me? Surely you don’t think I stole those drugs?” Owen’s loss of faith hit him hard. At the same time, he wondered how much he really knew about Owen’s life in the past few months.

  Owen waved a hand. “Who knows better than I do that you’re a good cop? When you came in, I hoped you’d remembered some detail you haven’t confided to me yet.”

  “If only I could.” Brendan sank onto a chair and scrubbed a hand across his face, regretting his doubts. “I don’t know how Larry’s death and the missing drugs are related, but I’m sure they are. Also the deaths of Conor and Porter and the attempted kidnapping of his daughter from the bar, and that attempt to grab Deirdre from the parking lot of mom’s shop.”

  “I saw the report on the attempt at your mother’s store. That the young woman I met at your house?”

  Brendan nodded. “At the time of the attack, I thought it was because when we helped the waitress, Deirdre saw the men who killed Frank Porter. Now I’m afraid it was because of her relationship with me.” Suddenly, he recalled telling Owen that she knew something about the case.

  No, Dear God, no, that couldn’t be it.

  “Relationship? You been holding out on me?” Owen laughed, but not in a good way. “Getting some hot pussy from that wild little piece of tail, huh?”

  Brendan’s temper exploded. “Watch what you say about her. Deirdre’s a good woman and I won’t hear her name bandied about that way, not even by you.” He heard the ice in his own voice, but Owen had no right to talk about Deirdre. Certainly not as if she were a loose woman.

  “Whoa, so that’s how it is? This woman’s got under your skin. Didn’t mean to step on any toes.”

  “Yeah, well you sure as hell did. I plan to propose to her as soon as this is over.”

  “Congratulations. Hope to hell you have better luck with marriage than I did. I paid through the nose. After that fancy lawyer Janice hired finished with me, I didn’t have two cents to my name.”

  Brendan had liked Janice, but no one had ever heard her side of the break up. He wondered what would send a wife fleeing a fifteen-year marriage? “Why let one experience color the way you think about all women? Deirdre isn’t like that.”

  “Hell, they’re all like that. Nevermind about women.” Owen leveled a look at him. “Son, you’re in a tough place. With your resources, you’d be smart to transfer your money to a Swiss account, grab that little lady, and disappear.”

  “You can’t mean it?” Brendan stood, unable to believe he’d heard his by-the-book captain issue such a cowardly suggestion. Why would Owen advise him to run?

  “Beats spending time in jail. That money won’t help you a damn bit from inside a cell. And a pretty little thing like her will get tired of waiting.”

  Brendan leaned both hands on the desk, looming over the man he’d expected to back him. “Owen, I’m innocent.” What had come over the captain? He was acting nuts.

  “You think everyone behind bars is guilty? Hell, no. Look at all the guys who’ve been released after ten or fifteen years when new evidence proved they were innocent. Or when some other man confessed. Don’t become a statistic, son. How long you think a cop would last in prison?”

  The thought terrified Brendan, but he held his ground. “I’m fighting this and I expect to win. I find it hard to believe you’d suggest I run.” Why had he? Was it to take Brendan out of harm’s way—or to make him look even guiltier? Prickles of suspicion raised on his neck.

  “Didn’t mean to offend you.” Owen shrugged. “Just friendly advice. What I’d sure as hell do in your place.”

  Surprise melded with disappointment and rooted Brendan in place. He couldn’t get over the man he’d admired sounding dishonest. In Brendan’s place, his mentor would pull out his cash and run? So much for by-the-book.

  “Advice noted, but I disagree w
ith your suggestion.” Brendan took a deep breath, hoping to keep wariness from his voice. No need to alert Owen he’d altered his opinion of their friendship.

  Their so-called friendship.

  Brendan no longer thought of Owen as a friend. Whether he was an enemy remained to be discovered. “Anyway, what I need is help, not advice. Can you let me look through the chief’s file?”

  “Not a chance. But what if I put my copies of it here on the corner of the desk and go get myself a cup of coffee? Will that do it?” Owen reached into a drawer with his left hand, and his shirt cuff slid up.

  There, just above his wrist, was the tattoo of a small spider! Like Deirdre’s vision. Brendan’s worst suspicions were confirmed.

  Hoping his voice betrayed none of the emotions spiraling through him, Brendan asked, “New spider tattoo?”

  Owen laid the folder on the desk and held up his wrist for closer inspection. “Little honey who’s been heating up my bed wanted us to get matching tattoos. And she is a hot piece of tail.” He laughed and winked. “Won’t tell you where she had the artist put hers.”

  “She choose the spider?”

  “Sure did. Recluse. Said I’ve been too much of a ‘recluse’ the past couple of years.” He laughed again and tapped the folder. “Guess I’ll get that coffee now. Be back in a few minutes.”

  Mind reeling, Brendan snatched the folder from Owen’s desk. A spider that no one brushed off. A tattoo, not a real spider. It should have occurred to him. He should have believed Deirdre. His gaze took in the scanner on the console behind Owen’s desk and another truth hit him.

  Dear God, Owen had tried to kill him. Had Larry killed. Framed Brendan for the missing drugs. The man he had trusted wanted him dead—or skipped out of the country so he looked guilty.

  Can’t think about it now. Focus on the file.

  He dropped onto a chair and opened the folder. Quickly, he scanned each page. Nothing he hadn’t already known. Nothing that would lead anyone to accuse him of anything.

  That could only mean the chief had pages not included here. Pages Owen doubtless dummied to make Brendan look guilty as hell. Brendan laid the folder on the desk, precisely in the center. Then, he turned and walked away.

  In the car, he called his friend. “Kevin, Owen’s the one. Wanted you to know in case he gets to me before I finish this.”

  “How do you know?” A loud roar like a plane passing overhead caused Kevin to pause. “What makes you think so?”

  “It’s too complicated to explain now. If anything happens to me, make sure you nail Owen Baylor.”

  “What kind of talk is that? Listen, Brendan, if I’m not in San Francisco by morning, my client loses a couple of million. Don’t do anything until I get back. Whatever you plan to do can wait forty-eight hours. Hey, I’ll do a turn-around and make it in thirty-six.”

  “I’m going to get this son of a bitch. He betrayed my trust, and he’s already killed three people. He sent those two bastards for Deirdre and another woman and those guys weren’t planning a picnic. One described his plans to Deirdre. She’s a brave woman but it left her shaking with fear. No way am I giving him another chance to hurt her.”

  “Brendan—“

  Brendan disconnected the call. At least Kevin knew who to blame if Owen won. Now to alert George. Then he could work on an attack plan. He was in George’s neighborhood, so he detoured two blocks and knocked on George’s door.

  “Come in.” George stepped back. “Hey, you look like you’ve been to a funeral. What’s happened?” He called to three children who were roughhousing in the next room. “Guys, take that to the back yard.” The sound of running was followed by the slam of a door.

  Brendan dropped into a chair and explained being called to the chief’s office. “I came by to warn you. Learned the man behind this is Owen.”

  “Owen? Captain Baylor?” George scooped Joshua off the coffee table then sat on the sofa, holding his youngest.

  “Right. Our Captain.”

  “That’s a shock. He’s been a great cop in the past but he for sure has the means and brains to set up Conor. Still, it takes some getting used to. What do you think turned him?”

  “Beats the hell out of me. Greed, but I haven’t a clue when or why? Thought I’d better tell you in person. Since you thought your office phone had been tapped, I wondered about your home phone. You need to watch your back.”

  “Are you sure it’s him?” He held his hand palm out. “I don’t mean I doubt your word, but do you have proof?”

  “Not yet. But I’ll get it.” And he’d see Owen rot in jail for the misery he’d caused.

  “Man, I’d never have guessed the captain. What tipped you off?”

  Brendan gave a brief summary. “I wanted to warn you.”

  “I’ll help any way I can. What should I do?”

  Brendan shook his head. “Nothing. Owen’s already murdered three people. Who knows what he’ll do next? You have your family to think about.”

  “Wait a sec. It’s too quiet all of a sudden.” George took Joshua to a corner filled with toys and set him down, then checked out a back window. When he came back, he asked, “You’re not going to do anything stupid, are you?” He stood in front of Brendan. “I know Chief Gordon is worthless for anything but shuffling papers, but call the sheriff or Texas Rangers. Let them handle it.”

  “And tell them what?” Brendan shook his head, doubting he could even get the sheriff to listen. Worse, the man would probably pass the information to Chief Gordon and Owen would learn about the accusation. “No one will listen, not until I get proof. The Rangers would be more likely to take me seriously, but would they act in time to prevent Owen from striking against Deirdre?”

  George frowned. “Can’t take a chance, can you? But if you’re right, he’ll be planning to get you first. He might even handle it himself this time.”

  Brendan stood. “That’s what I’m counting on. In the meantime, I need to tap into Owen’s bank records, credit card receipts, you know the drill. Can’t use the guys at the station. They’d be sure to report it straight to Owen.”

  “Yeah, they’re loyal. Same thing would probably happen if you tried someone at the sheriff’s office. You’d be better off trying a kid from computer classes at the university. I hear that’s the sort of thing they love.”

  “You’re right. And I know just the kid. Take care of yourself.”

  George stood at the top step as Brendan walked to his car. “Aren’t you the one who should be taking that advice?”

  Chapter Thirty Four

  Deirdre looked up as Brendan strolled into the shop. Her heartbeat increased and her stomach fluttered. Wasn’t he the handsomest of men? Sure and didn’t his love make her a fortunate woman? She sighed and watched his progress, and knew the moment he spotted her at the customer help desk midway in the store.

  His face broke into a wide smile and his pace accelerated. “Can I buy you lunch? If you don’t have other plans.” He looked eager as a little boy.

  “Now wouldn’t that be lovely?” She checked the large clock at the front of the store. “But I’m supposed to wait until Polly returns at one.”

  Brendan checked his own watch. “Ten minutes. I’ll say hello to Mom and wait in the book section.”

  Deirdre helped a customer find the Echinacea drops. Another woman wanted to discuss the various cranberry tablets. As soon as the clock showed one, Deirdre rushed for her purse and signed out.

  Brendan held her elbow to guide her to his car. “Anywhere special you’d like to try?”

  “Could we get another of those icy drinks? Milkshakes you called them.” She remembered the sweet taste of the thick mixture sliding down her throat. In this heat, a milkshake would be heavenly.

  “Right you are. Let’s go to a hamburger place nearby that has good food and great air-conditioning. Must be a hundred and ten today.”

  They drove to the Moo Cow Diner. She laughed when she saw it. The building was painted white with
black splotches like a dairy cow. A giant plastic cow’s head swiveled over the door. Red awnings brightened the wide windows and sheltered the entrance.

  Brendan guided her inside. “The interior is decorated to mimic the rock and roll music craze of the 1950’s. The photos on the wall are movie and television stars of that time. Hokey but they serve great food.”

  “Hokey? Is that bad?”

  “Not in this case.” He smiled down at her and spelled it. “I’ll help you look it up tonight.”

  Deirdre now understood the cardboard thing the waitress handed her was called a menu. Brendan didn’t look at his. “I’ll have a burger, onion rings, and a chocolate shake.” He nodded to Deirdre. “See what you want?”

  “I’ll have the same thing.” Deirdre handed back her menu. She wondered what some of the other things would taste like. Mayhap they’d come here another day.

  The tables were black with shiny trim. Slick material made to look like cowhide covered the chairs. Large photos dotted the walls. Some were of people, but others were make-believe paintings of cows dressed as humans. The colors were cheerful and the place made Deirdre smile.

  “I like this place. And there’s music.”

  Brendan nodded at a colorful machine against the wall. “Juke box. Plays music. Normally, you’d put in a couple of quarters and punch the buttons for the song you wanted to hear but the management keeps it going all the time. They had one at the bar where you met Michelle, but it was too crowded for you to see it.”

  “Isn’t this a lovely place?” She looked around then leveled her gaze on his. “But why are you dressed up on a Monday?”

  He looked uncomfortable. “Chief of Police called me in for questioning.” Why did his voice have that odd tone?

  Fear pricked her heart. “Oh, Brendan. Do they still think you’re guilty?”

  “Afraid so.” He reached across and covered her hand with his. “Don’t worry, honey. It’ll all work out. All at once it got to me and I needed to see you, touch you.”