“I thought you’d value my honesty.”
“I do.”
“All right. Then it should be pretty clear to you that I didn’t murder Rick.”
“I disagree.”
“Detective, it’s only logical to assume that if I was telling the truth about hating Rick, then I was also being honest about being innocent,” Xavier said.
“If only things were that simple,” David said. “Unfortunately, a murder investigation is much more complicated than that.”
“Look. I don’t know what else to say to you.”
“How about you start by telling me where you were last night?”
“As in, do I have an alibi for the time of the murder?” Xavier asked.
“Exactly,” David said.
“No. I don’t. At least, not one that you’ll be able to verify,” Xavier said.
“Why? What were you doing last night?”
“Nothing special. I went out for a run, ate some dinner, and played video games most of the night.”
“You’re right. That isn’t anything special.”
“It’s the truth, though.”
“According to you.”
“Detective, I get that you’re skeptical of my answers. But you can’t just outright dismiss them. After all, I’m not avoiding any of your questions. I’m just calmly replying to you.”
“I can’t argue with that.”
“Good.”
David scratched his forehead. “The thing is, though, you’re almost too calm.”
Xavier scoffed. “Are you kidding me?”
David stared Xavier down. “I’m not. Also, it isn’t taking you very long to formulate your answers. It’s almost as if you anticipated me asking you all of these questions and rehearsed what your replies would be.”
Xavier shook his head. “If you believe that, you’re nuts.”
“If I’m wrong, then why are you so calm?”
“Like I told you, I’m innocent.”
“Is that the story you’re sticking with?” David asked.
“For the last time, it’s not a story. It’s the truth,” Xavier said.
Chapter Sixteen
David and I lobbed a few more questions at Xavier, but his story didn’t change. Finally, when it became clear that we weren’t going to get any new information out of Xavier, we left the apartment complex.
At that point, we were fresh out of suspects. It was also getting pretty late. Given how exhausting the day had been, it seemed like a good time to call it quits for the night. We would resume investigating in the morning.
Once my husband and I arrived home, I heated up a quick microwave meal for both of us. We ate silently as the events of the afternoon weighed heavily on our minds.
After loading our plates in the dishwasher, I opened up my laptop and started a video chat with my daughter. When she asked how my day had gone, I broke the terrible news to her about Peterson’s murder.
“That’s so awful,” Jessica said.
I nodded. “It has been an absolutely devastating day.”
“I’m so sorry,” Jessica said.
“So am I. It’s a rough time.”
“How is dad handling things?”
“He’s trying to stay as professional as possible, but I know he’s really hurting.”
“Once we’re done talking, put dad on. I want to pay my respects.”
“Of course,” I said.
“Wow, I still can’t believe Rick is dead. He was such a nice guy. Plus, he was a good cop.”
I began to get choked up as I watched Jessica wrestling with her emotions.
It was then that I got the urge to change the subject.
There was a very specific reason for that. Even though I wanted Jessica to be able to process the news, I had been struggling with this tragedy all day. And, while I considered myself to be pretty strong, I could only handle so much. At some point, I needed some relief.
“How was your afternoon?” I asked. “Are things going better for you at the academy?”
“Mom, forget about the academy. Who cares what is going on in my life right now?” Jessica said.
“I do.”
“It’s nothing that can’t be talked about some other day.”
“I disagree. I’d really like to hear about your afternoon.”
Unfortunately, Jessica was too focused on Rick’s death to notice that I was desperate to change the subject.
“Do you guys have any good leads?” she asked.
“Jessica, I’m not going to discuss the case with you.”
“Mom, I’m not a little girl anymore.”
“I never said you were. I just don’t want to discuss this case.”
“I can see why you wanted to keep investigative details from me when I was younger, but I’m in the police academy now.”
“Jessica, you’re aren’t understanding me. This has nothing to do with your level of training.”
My daughter squinted. “Then what is it?”
“I’ve just been knee-deep in this investigation all day. Right now, what I need is to take a step back and breathe.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry for pushing you.”
I took a deep breath. “It’s okay. Now, can we please talk about something else?”
Jessica nodded. “Sure.”
“Did anything interesting happen to you today?”
“Remember that woman I told you about before?” Jessica asked. “The only other woman in my class?”
“What about her?” I said.
“I struck up a conversation with her.”
“And?”
“It turns out we actually have more in common than I first thought.”
“Like what?”
“To start, we’re both from small towns,” Jessica said. “Amanda was born and raised in Redwood Glen.”
My eyes widened. “Really? What a coincidence.”
“I’ll say. I mean, here I am, three hours away in San Francisco. And the only other woman in my class grew up in a town that is a twenty-minute drive from Treasure Cove.”
“Not just any town. A place that is home to Giuseppe’s Italian Bakery.”
Jessica chuckled. “Leave it to you to bring up sweets at a time like this.”
I shrugged. “Can you blame me? Giuseppe’s serves some amazing cannolis. Every time I’m in Redwood Glen, I make a point of ordering one…or two.”
Jessica smiled. “Okay. So Giuseppe’s did come up.”
My eyes lit up. “I knew it.”
Jessica laughed again. “Mom, we did talk about other things.”
“Like what?”
“What a big adjustment city life is. Dealing with homesickness. And how grueling the police academy is.”
“You weren’t kidding when you said you two had a lot in common. Does she have a mother and father who investigate murders as well?” I joked.
“No. Her father is a teacher. And her mother…” Jessica trailed off as she got emotional. “Well, she was a nurse.”
“Was?”
“Unfortunately, Amanda’s mother was killed a number of years back.”
“That’s awful,” I said.
Jessica nodded. “It sure is. But it’s also why Amanda decided to join the police academy. To solve crimes. Just like the detective that arrested the man who murdered Amanda’s mom.”
“What a story,” I said.
“I know. Amanda is a tough woman. And she’s been through a lot, considering she’s only eighteen.”
“How does her father feel about her career choice?”
“A lot like you do about mine.”
“You mean, supportive, yet nervous?” I said.
Jessica nodded.
“I sympathize with Amanda’s father,” I said.
“I’m sure you do. But like I’ve told you before, you don’t have to worry about me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. After spending my entire day investigating the murder of a police deput
y, I’m now more worried about your future than ever,” I said.
“Mom, don’t get me wrong. It’s tragic what happened to Rick. But that doesn’t mean the same thing will happen to me one day,” Jessica said.
“I realize that. And trust me, if I couldn’t think of a way to make my worries disappear, I would do it. Unfortunately, worrying is just part of being a mother.”
“I wish I had an answer for you,” Jessica replied. “All I can say is that I love you so much.”
I gazed into my daughter’s eyes and smiled. “I love you too.”
Chapter Seventeen
Once I finished my video chat with my daughter, I was ready to relax in front of the TV the rest of the evening. It turned out that life had other plans. I had just grabbed the remote control and was flipping through channels on the TV when David came running into the room.
“Put the controller down,” he said.
I kept staring at the television as I replied, “What’s the matter? Are you worried that I’m going to put some home decorating show on?”
“Honey, I really need you to put the remote down. This is serious,” he said.
David’s voice cracked a little as he spoke. That was very telling, as he was usually able to keep calm regardless of the situation. As I turned to him, I saw that he was a wreck.
I squinted. “David, what’s wrong?”
David grabbed my purse from the coffee table and handed it to me. “Get up right now. We have to go.”
My forehead wrinkled. “Back up for a minute. Where are we going?” I asked. “And why do we need to leave in the first place?”
“There has been a shooting,” David said.
***
David didn’t know all of the details, but the ones he had were terrifying. Dispatch had received a call about a shot being fired. While a shooting was disturbing enough, the location of the incident really sent a shiver down my husband’s spine. The caller who had heard the shot was George Richards—one of Deputy Steven Wilson’s neighbors.
Even worse, George believed the shot had come from Steven’s house. That left two options. Either Steven had shot someone. Or someone had shot Steven. Once the dispatcher got off the phone with George, she called Steven’s cell phone, but he didn’t pick up. From there, the dispatcher radioed all police and emergency personnel.
When David told me the news, it took me a moment to pick my jaw up from the ground. What an insane development. A number of different questions immediately popped into my head. But I didn’t have time to linger on any of them.
David and I needed to get over to Deputy Wilson’s house as fast as possible. I turned off the TV and then ran out to the driveway with David. From there, we hopped into the car and sped over to State Street.
Since Wilson lived on the southeast end of town, it took about ten minutes to get there. As David pulled up to Wilson’s blue Victorian-style home, he saw that a squad car was already parked out front. In addition, an ambulance was in the driveway.
That wasn’t all. From the passenger seat of David’s car, I saw that two paramedics had loaded Wilson’s body onto a stretcher and were placing the deputy in the ambulance. What I couldn’t see was whether Wilson was breathing or not.
David parked his vehicle on the street, got out of the car, and rushed over to Deputy Christopher Manning, who stood beside the ambulance. I followed closely behind my husband as he looked on helplessly. Normally, David would have spoken with the paramedics directly, but they were so busy that my husband saved his questions for Deputy Manning.
“Manning,” David said. “Is Wilson…?” My husband had trouble finishing his sentence.
“He’s unconscious,” Deputy Manning said. “And he’s lost a lot of blood. The paramedics are going to rush him to the hospital.”
“At least he’s alive, though,” David said.
“For now,” Deputy Manning said.
“Did the paramedics tell you if they think he’s going to make it?” David asked.
Deputy Manning grimaced. “They weren’t sure.”
Just as the deputy finished his sentence, the ambulance backed out of the driveway and darted off.
David exhaled as he watched the ambulance go. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Neither can I,” Deputy Manning said. “I’m going to pray that Wilson pulls through.”
“Pray? But I thought you weren’t religious,” David asked.
“I’m not. At the same time, after seeing what rough shape is Wilson is in, it would be foolish of me not to pray,” Deputy Manning said.
If this situation wasn’t already depressing enough, the deputy’s statement managed to make things even worse.
I could tell that David felt the same way. He almost looked afraid to ask his next question. “When you got here, how bad did he look?
Deputy Manning winced. “Are you sure that you want to hear the truth?”
“It’s that bad, huh?”
Deputy Manning nodded. “Unfortunately.”
David lowered his head. After taking a deep breath, he replied, “Was Wilson still conscious when you got here?”
Deputy Manning shook his head. “No. That’s what worries me.”
David gritted his teeth. “Right now, that’s just one of many disturbing things that I’m wrestling with.”
“You’re right. This has been an absolutely dreadful week.”
“And it’s far from over,” David said.
“I know what you mean. After all, whoever shot Wilson is still out there,” I said.
David turned to the deputy. “When you arrived, did you happen to see anyone suspicious?”
Deputy Manning shook his head. “No.”
David groaned. “Of course not.”
Chapter Eighteen
Deputy Manning took David and me inside and showed us where he had found Wilson. Other than some blood on the floor of the entryway, nothing else stood out at the crime scene. Then again, we didn’t have the tools that the forensics team did. A few minutes later, a number of forensic specialists arrived at the house to go over the entire scene.
Knowing that it would take them a while to produce any results, David and I decided to speak with George Richards, the neighbor who had placed the 9-1-1 call.
Unfortunately, George was not able to provide very many details. He had heard a shot coming from Wilson’s house and called 9-1-1. That was it. He didn’t spot anyone coming out of Wilson’s house after the shooting. Nor did he see any unusual cars in the area.
That led me to believe that the shooter had left through the back door and had probably fled on foot. Or maybe they had parked their car on a side street. Either way, they were long gone now, and George couldn’t help us identity them.
Once David and I were done speaking with George, we headed over to the hospital in hopes of getting an update on Deputy Wilson’s condition.
***
David was quiet during the entire drive. Not that I had much to say either. I was still in shock.
Unfortunately, good news was not awaiting us when we arrived at the hospital. Instead, the nursing staff had no new information to share with us. Reluctantly, we were forced to wait around until an update became available. That was not an easy thing to do. Patience was something that I never had an abundance of.
As we sat uncomfortably in the waiting room, the only information that we were able to get out of the nurse at the front desk was that every effort was being made to save Deputy Wilson’s life. Only time would tell if those measures would be successful.
Before David was able to pray for the deputy, he had a phone call to make. Normally, my husband would have gotten in touch with all of Steven’s family members. In this case, he didn’t have many living relatives. After all, both of Steven’s parents had died a few years back. And he was also an only child, so there were no siblings to speak with. As a matter of fact, his sole living family member was his aunt, Nancy Milton, who lived in San Francisco. David gave Nancy a
call to tell her what had occurred.
Nancy, of course, was shocked. It took her a number of seconds to untie her tongue. When she was finally able to string together a sentence, she told David that she was going to hop into her car and drive down to Treasure Cove. It would take about three hours for her to arrive in town. Hopefully, by then we would have more answers.
Once David got off the phone with Nancy, he placed one more call. This one was to Steven’s girlfriend, April Howard. Unfortunately, April didn’t answer her phone. David hated sharing bad news over voice mail, but he didn’t see any other choice.
After leaving April a message and hanging up the phone, David turned his focus back to Steven. That said, there wasn’t anything David could do but wait for an update.
It was so difficult just sitting there idly, knowing that the deputy’s fate was out of our hands. In addition, with no guarantee of an update coming anytime soon, David and I were forced to muster all of the patience that we could.
As the minutes ticked by, however, David began to lose his grip on his emotions. He lowered his head to try to keep his pained expression from showing. But I saw how much he was suffering.
In an effort to comfort him, I reached over and took his hand. “The doctor is doing his best.”
“I know. But what if it’s too late? What if Steven can’t be saved?” David replied.
“Don’t think like that.”
David winced. “It’s hard not to.”
“I’m not going to pretend that it will be easy to do. I’ll just say this. At a time like this, it’s essential to keep your faith.”
David thought about my statement for a few seconds. He then nodded. “You’re right.”
“It’s also important to remain optimistic,” I said. “Hope has never been more necessary than at a time like this.”
“That’s so true.”
“Now I’ve been praying like crazy—”
He cut me off. “So have I. But we both know that not all prayers are answered in a way that we understand.”
“David, what did I just tell you about remaining hopeful?”
Sabrina Carlson Cozy Mystery Anthology Page 5
