by Sara L Foust
“Yes, of course. And when was this?”
“Right before I called 9-1-1.”
She would have to check the call logs and note the exact time of that call. “Any clue where the gun came from?”
The mother shook her head.
“Have you noticed anyone walking by today or maybe late last night?”
“Nobody other than the school kids this morning and this afternoon.”
Surely none of those innocent, white-collar-parented children would drop a loaded weapon into a kid’s wagon and hope nothing bad happened. Annalise shook her head. She knew these kids from her hours spent in the halls of the middle school. None of them would be so careless. Even as she thought it, she knew she was being foolish. “When was the last time your son played with the wagon?”
“Yesterday evening. Just before sunset.”
“Thank you, ma’am. We’ll be in touch if we have any other questions.”
“Come on, Joey.” The mother pulled her reluctant son into the house and shut the door, not bothering to thank Annalise for her service.
There was a simple explanation for this. Had to be. Someone had lost their handgun while walking by.
And it happened to bounce into the wagon sitting fifteen feet off the road.
Okay, someone had tossed it out the window. Like accidentally losing a shoe.
Right.
If someone had tossed the gun, it meant they were getting rid of it. And it would make so much more sense to toss it into the dumpster or a body of water. And there were only a few reasons to get rid of a gun that way. Around here, people sold them for the money they knew they were worth. Not tossed them. Unless they were in possession of them illegally, which was a crime. Or the weapon was used in a crime. Or both.
Annalise aimed her vehicle for the station, but driving away didn’t leave the sense of curious anxiety behind. This was a safe town. Not a dump-your-unwanted-killing-items-on-the-side-of-the-road town. Not a put-an-innocent-child-in-harm’s-way town.
“Hey, captain,” Annalise said as she stepped through the doorway into the cool, concrete-floored bay area at the fire/police station. “Back already?
“Yeah, wasn’t near as bad as we thought. One headed to the hospital with chest pains, and the vehicle needs a funeral, but everyone should be okay.”
“That’s good.” She sat in the chair opposite him. “This call was interesting.”
“Not a critter call?”
“No, sir.”
She opened the bag and held it under his nose.
“Whoa. Where’d that come from?”
“I asked the same thing, sir.”
He laced his fingers under his chin, raising both index fingers to cover his lips. “Hmmm.”
She knew better than to interrupt his musings.
“Have you decided on that new job yet?”
Annalise’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”
“The new job.”
“How did you—”
His smile was genuine. “I know a lot of things, Annalise. It’s a good opportunity for you.”
It was. “I would miss all of you terribly.”
“We will miss you too.”
Will? As in he’s already saying goodbye? “I don’t know...”
“Yes, you do. Opportunities like this one don’t come around every day.” He leaned back in his chair, as if the conversation, and the decision, were completed. “As for that,” he pointed to the bag, “send it to the lab. Fingerprints, gunshot residue, ballistics. The works.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ve got a feeling we may have an actual crime on our hands, young Annalise.”
She did too.
THUNDER CARRIED IN a massive line of clouds before Annalise made it home to her dark house. Empty yet again. She darted through the sheet of raindrops the size of grapes. The full color of fall wouldn’t be so full if it kept up like this. On the front porch, she sank into the swing and wrung rainwater from her heavy hair.
Where was her husband tonight? Shouldn’t the storm—or at least the dark—preclude working on someone’s outdoor heating unit? It had in the past. Had the rules changed somewhere and she just wasn’t aware of it?
Are you talking about heating and air work or life, Annalise? Zach’s gentle voice sounded in her mind. Both, Zach. Both.
Speak of the devil.
Whoa, when had she begun to think of Dave as the devil? She shook her head as his headlights cut off. She didn’t. Just a passing thought spawned by an age-old saying.
He raced up the walkway, receiving the same dousing she’d gotten minutes before. No, she didn’t think of him as the devil. He was handsome, kind, and patient. When they’d married eight years ago, she couldn’t ever imagine a day when she’d have half the thoughts she had now. It was her investigative, creative mind playing tricks on her. Conning her into negative thoughts when she knew the truth. Dave was a good man. An honest man.
She forced her voice to sound like freshly uncorked champagne bubbles, when the emotions carrying it felt more like day-old soda. Flat, tasteless, worn out. “Hey, babe.”
Dave jumped and spun toward her.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” When had things become so stiff between them? So awkward.
He forced his it’s okay, I’m tired smile. “What are you doing out here?”
“Drying off. Thinking.”
“Oh.”
Wasn’t he going to ask what she was thinking about? He would have in the old days. In the early days. In the good days. Were they no longer good days? “Come sit with me.”
He didn’t meet her gaze. “I’m all wet. Let me go change first.”
“I’m wet too.” She held the front of her uniform out from her chest as a demonstration. “Look, I need to talk to you about something.”
He sucked a squeaky breath through his front teeth.
Annalise rolled her eyes. She hated that sound. When had the cute little nuances about her husband become things to hate? To drive her insane and make her want to shove plugs into her ear canals?
“I’m awful tired. Can we talk another time?”
The blood drained from her head. In less time than it took the raindrops to plop from the eaves to the ground, the steadiness of her life whooshed away from her. What did it mean that he was unwilling to sit with her? To listen to her? That he was too tired to spend a moment with her? Before she could reply, he disappeared inside. The clicking of the front door closing sounded so hollow. So loud. So final.
Chapter Four
ZACH PULLED HIS UNIFORM from the dryer and sniffed deeply. Three washes and a cup of bleach and it still smelled like death and dirty sweat-socks. He’d have to put in a request for a new one or make the ones he had last until the new job started. Washing laundry every other day would be a pain, but it was better than smelling like a corpse. What was he talking about? He only had two days left.
Speaking of corpse, maybe he should call the ME and find out about their John Doe from the creek. Surely something in the man’s pockets could help them identify him. Or at least point them in the direction toward the murder scene.
Upstream, obviously. But where?
He slid into a uniform he retrieved from the bedroom floor. It smelled much better than the one from the night prior but not exactly sunshine fresh. It would have to do. He pulled up the photos from the creek and swiped until he found the one of the shard of map. If he could figure out which one this had come from, they’d have a clue.
But the trail maps for the Smokies outnumbered the bears. How on earth could he find the right one? He needed help.
Annalise picked up on the third ring.
“Hey, whatcha doing?”
“Getting ready to drive some evidence to Nashville. Why? What’s up?”
“I was hoping you could help me with something.”
“Can we do it on the road?”
“Nah, but it can wait. Still want some company? I could tag along a
nd bring everything from the Gatlinburg department too. Make a day of it.”
“Sure. I hate driving alone. Well, you know that.” She giggled.
Yes, he did. He knew just about everything there was to know about Annalise Baker. “Come pick me up. Have you accepted the job yet?”
There was a long pause, in which he could picture her gnawing on her cheek like she always had. “Not yet. I still haven’t told Dave.”
“Seriously? They want an answer by Friday. You can’t pass this up, Lise. You just can’t.”
“I don’t know...”
Was something more going on here than she had told him? He’d get her to open up on the three-hour drive. “See you soon.”
“Be there in twenty.”
SPENDING THE DAY IN the car with Zach certainly beat spending it alone. But, at the same time, one look at her and Zach would know something wasn’t right. How could she avoid telling him the truth? She didn’t even know what the truth was yet.
Zach met her at the curb, a grocery bag hanging from one arm and a doughnut and coffees in a cardboard drink holder in the other. He swung open the door, somehow.
“How on earth did you manage...Never mind.” This was Zach she was talking to, after all. The food-is-always-a-priority man. The one who dreamed in shades of meat doneness and tones of chocolate cakes.
She knew. Because he’d told her all of his dreams, every morning during college and when they were separated in different police academies. After she’d married Dave, those phone calls had slowed and then stopped. She never realized she missed them until now.
“Coffee. Fat-free half and half and two Splenda packets.”
She took the cup he offered. “Thanks.”
Zach slid into the seat, managing not to spill a drop of his coffee nor lose balance in any way. He’d always been the nimble one.
Her, not so much. How she’d made it this far in life without a broken bone or two was beyond her.
He flashed her a chocolatey-glazed grin. “So, what’s up with you and Dave?”
Well, just diving right in, eh, old friend? “Nothing. What makes you think something’s up?” She could slap her forehead. Her high pitch with a break in the middle of the sentence gave her away.
“You have a tell.”
“Ugh, I know.” Her shoulders stooped. “Listen, I don’t wanna talk about it. Okay?”
Zach nodded. And smacked another bite of doughnut.
“Do you think you could chew a little less like a cow and a little more like a human being who has at least the bare minimum of manners?”
“Hmm, oh, sure thing.”
He leaned in close and chewed slowly.
She laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Seriously? Are you still twelve?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Hopefully traffic would cooperate with them, and she wouldn’t have to listen to his chomping on the way home with dinner too. She zipped onto 40W and hit cruise control. Zach’s chewing ended, but his words didn’t resume. What was up with him? She could never get him quiet this long. “We going to drive the whole way in silence?”
“You said you didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh, good grief. Let it go, okay?” Her tone had more bite to it than she intended. But she couldn’t voice her fears. Then they would be real.
“Got a body.”
“What?”
“A body. A murder.”
Zach always did know how to make a conversation U-turn and get a chuckle from her. “Oh, yeah? Where did you find him or her?”
“Little Pigeon, after the rainstorm. Well, more like during the rainstorm, last night.”
“Got any leads?”
“He was shot. That’s about all we know. What’s in the bag?”
The bag? Oh, right. Another U-turn. “A gun.”
“What’s so special about it?”
“It was found in a child’s little red wagon. You know, the metal ones?”
“Weird. But really worth driving to Nashville yourself?”
“Let’s just say I have a hunch.”
“That’s why the Smoky Mountain Investigative Force needs you.”
“I don’t know, Zach.”
“Sure you do. You know you want the job. Something is worrying you. Which brings us back to Dave.”
She shot him a look that she hoped said, stop it, right now, I’m serious.
He held his hands up in surrender. “But we aren’t talking about that. SMIF.”
“What?”
“Not a great acronym, if you ask me.”
Oh, Smoky Mountain Investigative Force. Sheesh. This road was making her a bit dizzy. “No, you’re right about that one.”
“But it will be a great job. I have a hunch too. This body started out somewhere up in the mountains and washed down with the storm.”
“Uh-huh. Sounds like a possibility. It rained a monsoon last night.”
“Map. Well, a piece of one.”
“Zach, it’s a good thing I love you.”
He swung his gaze on her and pinned her with his stare.
Ha! She’d gotten him to pause in his zig-zag of random thoughts. “You’re making my head spin.”
“Sorry. I’m good like that. It’s the handsomeness that gets most.”
Laughing felt good after so many straight hours of worrying about Dave and the new job and the other woman—
Whoa, there was another woman now? Thanks, imagination.
Silence entombed the car. Annalise switched the radio onto K-Love and tapped her finger to the beat of a Zach Williams song. Good. Something upbeat and distracting and not depressing like her muddled mind.
Zach pointed at the radio. “Zach.”
“Um, yep.”
“Love him.”
She glanced at his profile. “Me too.” And she did. She really, really loved him. Always had. Always would. Through the irritating chomping and the crazy conversations. And especially the way he knew her like no one else and never judged. “Had any interesting dreams lately?”
Chapter Five
WHY DID ANNALISE TELLING him she loved him, in that casual, non-strange, non-romantic way, make his insides feel so odd? In all their years of friendship, she hadn’t ever said that. He’d known it. Love, like a brother. Or an annoying uncle she tolerated because she had to.
But she didn’t have to. She chose to.
And he was thankful for that. What would he do if she stopped choosing to?
“Zach? You still there?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you ready for lunch?”
Good, safe subject. “Always ready for food.”
“Right. Dumb question.”
Annalise could run from his earlier, not-dumb question all she wanted, but he knew something was up. Call it instinct. A hunch. Whatever. There was a problem in her life. And it involved Dave.
If Dave had hurt Annalise somehow, he’d never forgive the man.
Annalise pulled off the interstate and aimed for a Hardee’s near Cookeville. Halfway or so. He’d have to push a little harder to get past her iron-firm shell. Strange. Normally she was an open book with him. Well, she used to be anyway. He had to admit their visits and phone calls had grown sparser with each passing year Annalise had been married. But this must be really bad if she couldn’t even begin to talk to him about it. She knew he was a safe place for her to land her worries and fears. A low growl escaped his lips.
“You okay there?” Annalise chuckled.
“Yep. Just hungry.” Which was true. He was always hungry. But angry and worried too. He was an investigator. Not supposed to jump to conclusions. It was awfully hard not to when his best friend’s heart may be on the line.
He just needed a new tactic. “I’m breaking up with Jo.”
Annalise veered into the parking space crooked. “What? Why? I thought you two were pretty serious.”
“It just doesn’t feel right.”
“Seriously, Zach? She is an amazing woman.”
“She is.”
“So what is it?”
“I don’t know. She’s not the one. I mean, how did you know with Dave?” Ah, there, sneaky.
Was she going to answer him? He tapped the windowsill with his index finger. One. Two... Fifteen. He glanced at her profile.
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Atta girl. Come on, Annalise. Talk to me.
“He was kind and generous and hardworking and sweet. I just knew.” She swallowed hard. “All right, Zach. You win. I’m worried.”
“I know. How come?”
“He’s been working all sorts of crazy hours and making excuses for coming home late. And last night I tried to talk to him about the job but...”
“But what?”
“It...He brushed me off. He’s never acted like he didn’t want to spend time with me. Until last night.” She sighed. “I have no proof, no reason to doubt his loyalty, but I can feel it. Something’s wrong.”
“Could be a million things. Maybe he knows he is about to lose his job and he doesn’t want to disappoint you.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe he has cancer and doesn’t want to scare you.”
“Zach!”
“Hey, I’m just saying it’s a possibility.”
“Right.”
Even with her staring straight ahead, he saw her eyes roll. “Maybe he has a surprise planned for you and is trying not to spill the beans.”
“I kinda doubt it.” She gnawed on her cheek.
“What is it?”
“There’s been...distance between us, in the bedroom. You know?”
“Ouch. Okay, yeah, let’s not go there.” Anywhere but there. What advice could he give in that department? Zero. Nada. Zilch. That’s what. Call him old fashioned, but he was waiting for God to send him a wife first. But, he couldn’t imagine being in Dave’s shoes and giving Annalise the cold shoulder in any room of their house. Especially not the bedr— He shook his head. Not an image he needed to allow to materialize.
“What if...”
Her cheek would need stitches if she didn’t spit the thought out soon.
“...there’s another woman?”
Heat flared up his throat, kissing his thoughts with smoldering anger. “There’d better not be.”
