Brown tapped the rim of his paper cup. “Can I get another cup of coffee?”
“When we’re done.” Ryan kept writing.
The other man leaned sideways and coughed into his elbow, intermittently at first, but working his way up into what sounded like a full-fledged case of emphysema. He pointed at the cup.
“Fine.” Ryan snatched the cup and took it to the door, where Hannah was already waiting to go refill it. When she brought it back, he smacked it down on the table hard enough to slop dark droplets of liquid on the white surface.
Brown sat back up, a smirk dancing on his lips as he took a sip. “Ah, much better. Now, where were we?”
Ryan clenched a hand under the table. The coughing had been an act—he was sure of it.
He took his sweet time writing another page of nonsense before finally looking up. “During the time between the initial unloading of the plane and when you located the carry-on, how long would you guess it was left unattended?”
“Well...” Brown stared up at the ceiling for a moment. “After we shut off the belt, Taber drove the truck back to maintenance, and I logged out the flight on the workstation computer. I found the bag about ten minutes later when I went back to sweep up.”
“Huh.” Ryan tapped his pencil on the table in as irritating of a fashion as he could. “I don’t seem to recall seeing you sweep on the video footage.”
“It’s not literal sweeping. That’s the janitorial staff’s job. ‘Sweep up’ means we make a last pass to make sure we didn’t miss anything.”
“And that’s when you discovered it?”
“Yep. And I took it straight to the claims office.”
Ryan slowly rose to his feet, then pushed his chair back under the table. This interview was going nowhere fast, and unless he came up with something, they’d have to release Lawrence Brown. “I have to step out for a minute.”
“Say hi to Laney for me.”
She was waiting in the surveillance room along with the tech who controlled the video displays.
“That didn’t go very well.” Laney flopped onto a chair and tapped the armrests with her hands. “Do you think he’s clean?”
“I don’t know.” Ryan paced back and forth in front of the one-way mirror. Inside the room, Brown sipped his coffee and glanced at his wristwatch. “My gut says he’s involved, but we need hard evidence to detain him. And how does he know your name?”
“All I can think is that he must’ve had some connection with my mother.” She frowned at the brown-haired figure on the other side of the glass. “What about the incident at the trailer park? Can you ask him where he was?”
“That line of questioning isn’t directly related to what’s in the warrant, so we couldn’t use anything he says as evidence. At least, not without jumping through the right hoops.” He stopped in front of the glass, lost in thought for a moment. “But at least we might find out if that avenue is worth investigating.”
He turned back at the doorway. “Laney, you don’t have to watch. You can wait at my desk.” Not only was Brown going out of his way to make her feel uncomfortable, but who knew what might come up during their conversation?
But she shook her head. Stubborn woman.
This time he brought a fresh cup of coffee when he walked in, just to keep the other man on his toes. “Here you go, Mr. Brown. Thought you might need another cup.”
Brown held up a hand. “No thanks. Time for me to switch to decaf, or my tachycardia will act up.” From the lazy smile on his face, he was enjoying every minute of this battle for control. Normal people didn’t act this way when they were under investigation. They either cooperated and told the truth or sweated buckets as they lied and hoped no one figured it out.
No, Brown was the rare kind who enjoyed the struggle. Presumably because he was confident he’d win.
“Mr. Brown, where were you yesterday afternoon around four?”
“Getting ready for work. My shift started at six. It takes me an hour to drive there, park and get to my workstation.”
“Can anyone confirm your whereabouts?”
“Dunno.” Brown shrugged. “I live alone. The neighbors might’ve seen my lights on. Why do you want to know?”
Ryan wasn’t ready to give up that information. He stood again. “Thank you. That’s all for now.”
“Can I leave yet? I have to work tonight.”
“We’ll be done soon,” he answered from the door.
This time his father was waiting in the back room along with the others. The chief’s expression was grim. “You’re gonna have to let him go, Ryan.”
“My gut says he’s involved.”
“I know, but your gut isn’t admissible in court.”
Laney laughed but clapped a hand over her mouth as Ryan shot her a glare. “What about the getaway truck?” she asked. “It wasn’t at his house, but is a truck registered in his name? Or to someone connected with him?”
“I can check.” The tech waved from behind a computer screen and clicked rapidly with the mouse. “No truck. Only a 2005 white Ford Taurus.”
So much for that. He let out a slow breath. “Any other ideas?”
His father stepped past him, squeezing his arm gently on the way out. “I’m sorry, Ryan.”
A minute later, Ryan stepped back into the interrogation room, this time holding the door open. “Thank you for coming down to the station, Mr. Brown. You’re free to leave. One of the officers will give you a lift home unless you have other transportation.”
“I’ve got a ride.” Brown offered a pleasant smile that rang false to Ryan.
“You can collect your personal items at the front desk.”
As Lawrence Brown walked to the front of the office, Ryan couldn’t help wondering if he’d just released a killer.
EIGHT
Laney’s mother was awake when she and Ryan finally made it to the hospital. On one hand, after the day she’d had, a family reunion was the last thing she wanted at this moment. But her mother might have vital information to reveal, and truth was, despite everything, Laney did care about her.
Being able to forgive her mother had been one of the many acts of grace God had performed in Laney’s life, and she was forever grateful for His saving mercy.
“You ready?” Ryan asked. They’d stopped outside Kim Hamilton’s door, watching as a nurse raised her mother’s bed. He clasped her hand in his warm fingers and squeezed, and despite her better judgment, she squeezed too. He shouldn’t be stepping back into this role as comforter, and she sure shouldn’t be accepting his support. But there was no denying how nice it was not to carry this entire burden alone.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
The nurse stepped out, smiling at them as she passed. “She’s ready to see you, but go easy on the questions, Sergeant. She’s quite weak still.”
Laney had almost forgotten Ryan was still in uniform—somehow the blue shirt and dark pants seemed almost like an extension of who he was, rather than mere clothing. He might have joined the force mainly to please his father, but there was no doubt law enforcement was in his blood. She’d left her borrowed flak jacket back at the station after their unproductive visit to Lawrence Brown’s house. There was a man she hoped she’d never see again.
She thanked the nurse and walked across the sterile white hospital floor to stand beside her mother’s bed. Kim’s eyelids fluttered at the sight of Laney, but she didn’t smile.
“Elaine.” Her voice was gravelly. “Why did you come back to this dead-end town?”
“Hi, Mom.” Laney perched on the edge of a hard plastic stool as Ryan waited in the background, his presence like a solid anchor in the midst of emotionally rough seas. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected her mother to say, but she had been hoping for something a bit kinder. “It’s good to see you.”
Kim�
��s lower lip shook as if she were sucking on the inside of her cheek. “Go away, Laney. You shouldn’t have come back here.”
She hadn’t thought her mother could possibly hurt her more, but judging by this sinking feeling in her chest, she’d been wrong.
For a second her mother and the hospital room vanished, and she was eight years old again, bouncing excitedly into their trailer after school only to find her mother passed out on the couch. The man Kim had brought home, another in a long string of transient, sometimes abusive boyfriends, laughed at Laney’s crumpled little face.
The picture she’d so carefully drawn in art class for her mother fell from her hand.
And when she started to cry, he’d picked up the paper, balled it into a tight wad and tossed it in the trash.
She don’t care what you made for her.
It was at that moment she’d decided never to let anyone see her cry again. Ryan had been the lone exception.
He stepped up beside her now, shaking her out of the memory. “Ms. Hamilton, she’s here to help with a case. We have a few questions for you if you’re up to it.”
Kim squinted at him for a minute as if trying to identify him.
“I’m Sergeant Ryan Mitchell, from the Sandy Bluff Police. We’re investigating the attack on you yesterday.”
“You.” She pointed a finger at him, her eyes narrowing. “What do you want with my daughter? She finally escaped this hole, and you lured her back, didn’t you?”
Apparently her mother remembered him after all. Laney shook her head. “No, Mom. The police chief called me in. They found bones in the bog off County Highway 13. I’m a forensic anthropologist, remember?”
Her eyes lost their focus for a moment as she stared at the ceiling, muttering something incoherent under her breath. Ryan glanced at Laney, concern written across his features. No doubt wondering whether they should call back in a nurse.
“Not yet,” Laney whispered. “She was probably high yesterday. Coming down still today.”
When Kim finally turned back, she stretched her weathered fingers for Laney’s hand where it rested on the bed. “I’m sorry, Laney. I’m so sorry. I was so proud of you making something of yourself. I should’ve told you not to come back.”
She took the cold fingers in her own, swallowing her own sense of hurt and disappointment to be there for her mother. God, please give her a second chance. Use this painful experience to change her life. If nothing was impossible for God, even her mother wasn’t too lost to be saved.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said, “but you don’t need to worry about me. I’m here for the job, and then I’ll leave again. But you can help us by answering Sergeant Mitchell’s questions.”
Kim nodded, meekly subdued after her bitter outbursts.
“Can you tell us what happened yesterday?” Ryan asked. When she stared blankly at him, he added, “Or the last thing you remember before waking up here?”
“I had to work the 6:00 a.m. shift. I work at J’s Discount Mart in case Laney didn’t tell you. Been there nearly twenty years.” Her voice carried a hint of pride. “Anyway, the next day I had off, so when I left at two, I swung by Cap n’ Cork to pick up a bottle. Just to take the edge off. My doctor gave me antidepressants, but they don’t work so good, so sometimes I drink too. You understand.”
“Mom,” Laney cut in, “tell us what happened.”
“I am, I am. Quit bein’ so impatient. I got back to the trailer an hour later and started drinking. After a couple of glasses, I laid down on the couch to take a nap. Then there was all this commotion at the door. Somebody pounding away. I figured it was Bernie wantin’ his rent money, so I hauled myself off the couch to open the door. The last thing I remember is somebody dressed all in black shoving me backward.”
“What about calling me, Mom? Do you remember calling me?”
“Did I? Wait a minute...” Her eyes unfocused for a moment, then she blinked. “Yes, he pressed a phone to my ear. Told me to ask you for help.”
“Do you have any idea who it might have been?” Ryan asked.
“No.” Kim tried to shake her head but winced. “I don’t know what he wanted either. Better notta taken my TV.”
Laney squeezed the frail fingers. “It was still there. I’ll keep an eye on everything for you. But we won’t know if they took anything until you’re well enough to go home.”
“Ms. Hamilton, do you know a man from Sandy Bluff named Lawrence Brown?” Ryan asked.
“Larry Brown?” A puzzled expression flitted across her face. “Is that who you mean?”
Laney cringed inside at the casual way her mother said his name. Ryan pulled out a photograph he’d brought from Brown’s employee record with Delta and showed it to her mother.
She frowned. “He lived with us for a couple of months, back when Laney was maybe twelve or thirteen. It was nice havin’ a man around to help, and he had a steady job, but I didn’t like the way he looked at her sometimes.”
“Did he ever try to hurt you or Laney?” Ryan’s tone had gone brittle.
“No. Just seemed a little...off, if you know what I mean. He put up a bit of a fuss when I told him to leave, but we didn’t need a restraining order or nothin’.”
Laney nibbled the inside of her lip, struggling to remember which of her mom’s boyfriends had been around when she was in middle school. She did vaguely recall a blowout fight in the street outside the trailer. Her mom tossing clothes out the window. A man hammering on the door until the neighbors threatened to call the cops. Was that Lawrence Brown?
Ryan grazed his fingers against her lower back—a whisper of a touch, meant to offer support. He’d always been her rock in the midst of her mother’s drama. He nodded at Kim. “Okay, thanks, Ms. Hamilton.”
“When can I get out of here?” her mother asked.
Laney patted her hand. “Mom, that’s something I need to talk to you about. I’m checking you into a rehab center as soon as they release you here. You have to sign the paperwork for consent, but I want you to do this now, while you still can.”
Her mother stared out the window for a long moment. When she turned back to Laney, tears glistened in her eyes. “You’ve always been stronger than me.”
“Not always, Mom. But God is good, and He takes care of those who love Him.”
“When did you get into church?”
“In college.” The tips of her ears flamed as she thought about Ryan standing there next to her, hearing her testimony. His fingertips rested lightly on her shoulder—meant to encourage, but they might as well have been bits of hot charcoal for the way they burned through her shirt. “I met some pretty amazing women who loved the Lord and shared His gift of forgiveness and salvation with me.” She took a deep breath and plunged on. “You can have that gift, too, Mom. There’s no sin too big, no past too ugly for God’s grace.”
Her mother blinked rapidly a few times, then turned back to the window. “I’m tired. Can I rest now?”
A lump lodged in Laney’s throat, and she swallowed it back down. Hopefully she’d at least planted a seed in her mother’s heart. You can use even the most seemingly hopeless conversation, can’t You, God? Getting her into rehab after they released her from the med-surg unit would be a step in the right direction.
Ryan stayed close beside her as they navigated the maze of the hospital and found his car in the parking lot. Did he think she might break? That she wasn’t strong enough to handle seeing her mother again?
Any doubts were dispelled by his words as he turned on the car’s ignition. “You handled that really well. It could’ve gotten ugly.”
That lump came back into her throat. “It was ugly.”
“But you offered her forgiveness and hope, Laney.” Instead of backing out, he fixed his dark eyes on her, and the respect she found in his gaze filled her insides with a confusing tangle of warmth and f
ear. His strength and encouragement mattered far more to her than they should.
She turned away and stared out the window at the empty car next to them. Anything to avoid those pensive eyes trying to read her soul. “It’s been a long couple of days. Can we call it a night?”
“Absolutely. Let me take you home.”
To Jenna’s room, in Ryan’s childhood home. The place was embroiled in regret and bittersweet memories, and yet Laney’s shoulders relaxed on their own at the thought of going back. It had always been home to her, a safe haven in a world of chaos. If only everything could’ve stayed that way.
* * *
By the time he pulled into his parents’ driveway, Ryan desperately wanted to get the details on the crime scene investigation from Kim Hamilton’s trailer and to start following up on the other possible suspects for the airport bombing. But leaving Laney alone with his mother wasn’t safe for either of them, and if he were being honest, he wanted to stay here with her.
He parked in the driveway and let Laney in through the side door from the garage to the house. A waft of some delicious smell made his mouth water almost instantly. Roast beef and potatoes, maybe?
Laney’s eyes twinkled as she took off her shoes. “Remember that time we volunteered to cook dinner for your family? And you thought it’d be smart to grill the pot roast?”
“Hey, that meal was your idea. I wanted to order pizza.”
“That would’ve been cheating,” she countered, pointing a shoe at him.
“But it would’ve tasted a whole lot better.” His heart felt lighter as he followed her into the kitchen. Good to know the happy memories still lurked in Laney’s brain and that she hadn’t forgotten them in her attempt to escape the bad ones.
He’d guessed right—his mother glanced up from a pan of potatoes, masher in hand, as he and Laney entered the room.
“Wonderful!” she exclaimed. “You two are back just in time for supper. Ryan, fetch everyone a glass of water. Laney, can you set the table?” She tipped her head toward the breakfast nook on the far side of the kitchen, with its sliding glass door letting in the late afternoon sunshine. “I’m sure you remember where everything is.”
Buried Evidence Page 8
