“David, you are making me nervous. Whatever it is, just spit it out.” I took a step back and fussed with the tea tray.
“She was watching you.”
“What?”
“I found a file. I went back to her apartment after we searched it.”
“How did you search her apartment without a warrant?”
Rainwater pressed his lips together. “The apartment lease is actually in her brother’s name and he agreed to let us in, so we didn’t need a warrant. He gave us free rein over the place. He’s worried about his sister and hoped that we would find something there that would lead us to her.”
“And did you?” I asked.
“Not the first time, but I found something interesting when I went back on my own. I don’t know what made me do it, but I felt like Jo must be hiding something.”
“Okay.” I waited.
“What’s more, she’d been hiding her research. Something about this whole case has never sat right with me, and I scanned her apartment with a particularly critical eye. Some well-worn scratches on the floor suggested that the bed had been pushed to one side, and on multiple occasions. That’s where I discovered a loose floorboard under her bed. I would never have found it if I hadn’t moved her bed.”
I swallowed. “What did the file say?”
He looked away from me and ran his hand through his head. “It was all about you. There were notes about what you did every day. She was keeping a daily log.”
I placed a hand to my forehead. This couldn’t be true. Jo was my friend.
“And how is Redding involved in this?” My voice sounded higher than it should.
“In the file there was a note from him that told her she would get paid when the job was done.”
“She was working for him,” I said.
“Looks that way. She was working with him on a case about you.” Rainwater was quiet for a moment as he let that sink in, but it didn’t sink in. It couldn’t sink in. It didn’t make any sense at all.
“And this all leads back to Redding’s murder. That’s what you think,” I said.
He ran his hand down the side of his face. “I don’t have any choice but to consider that as a possibility. Redding is dead. Jo is missing. You’re the only one here who can make this a little bit clearer to me.”
“So you think the murder has to do with me because Jo and Redding were spying on me?”
“You’re the only person that holds the two of them together. Without you, I doubt they would have even known each other.”
I felt dizzy, but I didn’t want to show Rainwater or anyone else how much this upset me. “What did her notes say?”
“For the most part, they conveyed that you lead a quiet life, at least when you aren’t in the middle of meddling in a murder investigation. She observed that you mostly went to the college, taught, studied at the library, worked here at Charming Books, and spent your free time when you had any with me.” There was a slight blush to his tawny complexion when he said that.
“That’s all?” Relief flooded my chest. Jo painted me as boring, which is exactly what I wanted.
However, my relief was short-lived when he added, “There was one more thing. Her main observation was that you go to the springs every other night to gather water in a watering can. It didn’t matter where you were or what you were doing, you did this faithfully every other night, and then would take the water into the bookshop. She didn’t see what you did with it from there.”
I felt very cold. The cookies on the tray no longer looked as appetizing as they had a moment ago.
“What is the water for, Violet?” Rainwater asked in a quiet voice.
I didn’t know how to answer him.
He sighed. “It’s against my better judgment, but I haven’t shared this with anyone else, not even my officers. You are the only person I’ve told.”
Why was he telling me that? Did he not intend to share all that he’d learned with his team? If they’d gone into Jo’s apartment, then I was pretty sure all the evidence had been properly collected and documented. So if David was suggesting that he might somehow remove that bit of evidence—I swallowed hard—that would be a huge concession for a man of his character to make. And, as much as I didn’t want to be cast dead-center into the middle of this investigation, I didn’t want David to compromise his integrity for me.
“You have to tell your officers.”
He nodded. “I plan to.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad.”
I was kicking myself for not going and searching Jo’s apartment when I had the chance. The trip to the detective agency in Niagara Falls instead had been a complete waste of my time. I took a breath. “You need to tell your officers, even if it makes Jo or me or both look bad. I would never forgive myself if you were reprimanded, or worse, lost your job on my account.”
He nodded. “I wanted to tell you first.”
I chewed on the inside of my lip. He was going to tell the others in the department. Would they then believe I was tied to the murder?
Grandma Daisy poked her head into the kitchen. “Violet, what’s holding up the tea? I think Officer Clipton might be frozen through.” When she saw my face, she entered the kitchen. “What’s wrong? Is it more bad news about Jo?”
I nodded. “David can tell you.” I sat on the stool then, not caring what either of them thought. My brain was reeling.
They talked quietly for a few minutes while I replayed what I’d learned about Jo—the betrayal simmering beneath my skin and making my stomach twist painfully—and what I’d learned about Rainwater. For as much as Jo’s actions hurt me, there was such comfort in knowing how far David might go to protect me. He was the most honorable man I knew, and to think that he’d even momentarily considered compromising those morals for me—it was very humbling.
“I’m quite sad to hear that Jo was working for Redding to spy on Violet, but there is nothing to worry about when it comes to that water.”
“What do you mean?” Rainwater asked.
Grandmas Daisy laughed. “Oh, you silly man. You can’t possibly be thinking there is anything sinister in Violet gathering water? I can assure you that there is not. She’s doing it for me.”
Rainwater arched his brow. “For you?”
“Yes, for me,” she said. “How do you think I stay so fit and look so good for my age? I have been drinking water from the springs since I was a little girl. You, because of your heritage, should know the stories surrounding the water in the springs. I believe it too. It’s made me young and vital. Do you think I could be the mayor of our lovely little village when I am over seventy years old without a little boost?”
“I think you can do anything, Daisy.”
Grandma Daisy smiled. “I appreciate the confidence, my boy, but it’s just not true. The spring water is sort of my answer to vitamins.”
Rainwater narrowed his eyes. He still wasn’t buying it.
“That water, without being purified, wouldn’t be safe to drink. There is algae and microbes even in the cleanest freshwater. Not to mention the animals and birds that drink from it. How is it that you’re not getting sick from drinking the spring water?”
“Oh, I know that. I boil it for my tea, which makes it safe to drink.” Grandma Daisy smiled.
Rainwater shook his head. “Why is it in a watering can?”
Grandma Daisy shrugged. “It seems to me a practical way to carry water. If you would like Violet to collect water for me using another receptacle, we are all ears.”
I cringed. Everything inside me wanted to tell Rainwater the truth, but I couldn’t, not yet.
Rainwater looked at me. “Why didn’t you just tell me that the water was for your grandmother when I mentioned it?”
“I—I didn’t want to give away Grandma Daisy’s secret. I don’t think any woman wants people to know all of her secrets.”
“That is too true,” Grandma Daisy said. “Maybe it’s vain, but women want oth
ers to think they come by their beauty and health naturally. I do, in my way. I suppose I didn’t want to give the water the credit.” Grandma Daisy picked up the teapot from the tray. “I’ll take this out first. I like to always carry it separate.” She laughed. “I suppose I’ve broken too many teapots in my day not to be careful.”
After my grandmother left, I smiled at Rainwater. “I’m glad we were able to clear that up for you.”
“Violet, it still doesn’t clear up the fact that Jo was watching you for Redding. Why would Redding want to keep tabs on you?”
“You know he followed me when Lacey’s sister was murdered in January. My guess is he thought I would lead him to another big case, which I clearly haven’t, if the most interesting thing she learned was that I gather water from the springs. I mean, it seems kind of silly when you think about it. I’m just gathering water—not gold. And this whole region is known for its water. Tourists come from all over and fill their own containers at the spigots in town.”
I grabbed the handles of the tray. “Let’s take the tea to the others. I hope you and your officers like English breakfast.” I started to pick up the tray, but Rainwater put his hand over mine, stopping me.
“What is it you want to tell me, Violet?”
“I said I wanted to give you a hug about not finding Jo.”
He shook his head. “There’s something else you want to tell me. You’ve wanted to tell me for weeks. At times I thought you were on the verge of saying it, but then you’d press your lips together and stop yourself.”
I chuckled, but the sound was hollow even to my own ears. “I not sure what you are talking about.”
“Violet.” His voice was quiet.
I wouldn’t look at him. I was afraid my face would give too much away. After a beat, he removed his hand, and I picked up the tray. “Grandma Daisy and your officers will wonder what happened to us, and we can’t let the tea get cold. There is nothing Grandma Daisy hates worse than cold tea.” I carried the tray to the door.
“Violet?”
I turned, holding the tray and with my back pressed up against the swinging door ready to push it in.
He stared at me with those mesmerizing eyes. “You are going to have to tell me eventually or this isn’t going to work.”
I swallowed hard. Unable to speak, I went into the other room. I plastered a bright smile on my face. “Hot tea and cookies from the café.”
Clipton grabbed one of the chocolate-chip cookies. “This is just what I need. Nothing makes a tough investigation easier than chocolate.”
Wheaton grunted but refrained from comment.
I examined them both, and they each appeared to be in a better mood since they’d warmed themselves by the fire.
Clipton took another cookie. “What’s the plan now, Chief?”
Rainwater sighed. “After you two finish your tea and cookies, I want you to go back to the station and file the report from the search. I also want you to hit up all of Jo’s friends again. Widen the net. Even go to classmates. Anyone who might have any idea of where she would go to hide.”
“I’ll talk to Bobby again,” Wheaton said. “He was the last one to see her before she disappeared. He might know something if I press him a little harder.”
“Not too hard, Wheaton,” Rainwater warned.
“Don’t you think it would be easier to find Jo if we knew what sent her into hiding in the first place? And are we sure she ran away on her own accord?” Grandma Daisy asked.
“There is no evidence of kidnapping or anything sinister, but of course we consider every possibility,” Rainwater said.
Wheaton grunted. “She’s hiding because she killed a man. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”
“We don’t know that,” I said.
Wheaton stood, grabbed two cookies from the tray, and marched to the door. “But don’t we? All the evidence points to her.”
Wheaton, unfortunately, had a point. Good officers, like Rainwater, followed the evidence. They didn’t make assumptions or presume to trust or judge people—they went by the facts. And, if Rainwater’s search of Jo’s apartment had proven anything, it was that she was, in fact, closely tied to the murder victim. A fact that none of us could ignore.
“I know that she’s your friend,” Wheaton went on.
Rainwater scowled but said nothing.
“And because of that, we’ve been instructed not to jump to conclusions,” Wheaton said. “But this is the only theory that makes any sense in this confusing case. Let’s go, Clipton. I would like to get home at a decent hour tonight.” He went out the door.
The female officer rolled her eyes at us as she followed her partner out into the rain.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Grandma Daisy and Rainwater left shortly after his officers. I leaned back against the door. The day had not gone as planned. Not that most of my days did, but every once in a while it would be nice.
“I thought they were never going to leave,” a small voice said.
I jumped and pushed myself off the door. “Jo?”
She was standing at the foot of the birch tree. She had her bare arms wrapped around her thin body, and she was shivering.
“You’re soaking wet.”
“That’s what usually happens when you’re caught in a thunderstorm,” she said.
“Go stand by the fire and warm yourself up.”
She walked over to the fire and held her hands out to the warmth. “That feels good. I wasn’t sure I would ever get warm again.”
“I’m just glad you are okay.”
I started to remove my cell phone from the back pocket of my jeans. I needed to tell Rainwater Jo was safe and sound, if a little wet. He would be so relieved. But then I stopped myself. Given the evidence, Wheaton’s attitude … would they be relieved to find her, or to have a break in the case?
She looked over her shoulder at me. “You aren’t going to tell the police chief I’m here, are you?”
The phone froze halfway to my ear. “I have to tell them. They had a search party for you. Everyone in the village is so worried about you.”
“Not everyone,” she said bitterly.
Before I could ask her what she meant, she asked, “Can I have one of those cookies?” She looked longingly at the tray.
“You can have all five. I can make you something more substantial. I do most of my eating at Le Crepe Jolie and don’t take that much time to cook, but I can make you a grilled cheese.”
She stacked the cookies on top of each other. “These are fine.”
“Where have you been? I mean, before you were hiding in my storage room,” I asked.
“I can’t tell you that,” she said around a bite of cookie. “I just came here to show you that I was all right. I could tell by your many text messages that you were worried, and I’ve felt bad about that. I never wanted to make you worry. You’ve done so much more for me than any other teacher has. I wanted to tell you thank you and that I’m all right.”
“Of course I was worried. A man is dead and you went missing. Everyone is worried.”
She swallowed. “I didn’t kill him. I know that’s what the police think, but I’m telling you I didn’t.”
How could I even believe her? As much as I wanted to believe Jo hadn’t killed Redding, how could I know that when I’d found out she had been working for him to spy on me? I didn’t say any of these thoughts yet. For all I knew, she could’ve been in the shop the entire time and heard everything Rainwater and his officers had said. A chill tracked up my spine. Had she been spying on me? Again?
The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I bit them back, my lips pressing together. No doubt, had Rainwater seen my expression, he would’ve known there was more I wished to say.
Rather than barrage her with questions, I managed a semblance of a smile for Jo. I wanted to understand why she did what she did, and accusing her wasn’t the way to go about it. She would clam up, or worse, she would run away ag
ain. I couldn’t let her leave. Rainwater would be so upset if he found out.
“We have a lot to talk about, but before we do, at least let me get you something else to wear. Even with the rain stopping, you can’t go out again in those wet clothes. You’ll get sick if you do.”
She thought about this for a minute, then said, “All right.” She popped another cookie in her mouth, and I wondered when she’d last had a decent meal.
“Let’s go up to my apartment.”
When we reached the second floor, I unlocked the door to my apartment. Inside, Jo followed me into the bedroom and froze. On the bed were five copies of Whitman’s Leaves of Grass. The books hadn’t been there when I had gone upstairs to change an hour before. Apparently the shop’s essence wasn’t happy with me for ignoring its instructions to read the book over the last several hours. In all fairness, I had been a little busy.
Jo stared at the bed. “Why do you have all those copies of Whitman on your bed?” Her face was pale.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“N—no, it just seems odd that you would have so many copies of that particular book when it was the book that Redding had when he died.”
It was a fair question, just not one I was prepared to answer. “Where have you been, Jo? The po—I have been looking for you for days.”
“I’ve been around. Sometimes even when people are looking for me, they don’t notice me.” She played with the damp hem of her shirt.
I wondered what she meant by that. “I was just reading through the poems because I was curious why Redding had the book on him, too. I wanted to compare the different editions. Do you know this collection?”
She ignored my question and said, “They’re all the same edition.”
I forced a laugh. “My mistake. I must have grabbed the wrong stack from the poetry shelf in the shop. I’ll get the right ones when I go back downstairs.” I gathered the books off the bed and set them on the corner of my dresser.
Her forehead wrinkled.
“Now, let’s find you something to wear.” I frowned. It wasn’t going to be easy. I was nine inches taller than Jo and outweighed her by at least thirty pounds, and that was being generous to my ego. I opened the dresser drawer and pulled out an old college sweatshirt that no longer fit but I hadn’t been able to part with yet. Then I found a pair of leggings. I handed the clothes to her. “You can double the leggings over a few times at the waist, and they should work. The sweatshirt will still be a bit big. I have a scarf and gloves, and I believe one of Grandma Daisy’s pea coats in the closet downstairs, and those should fit better, keep you warmer.”
Verse and Vengeance Page 20
