Reclaim My Life (28 page)

Wil’s uniform being freshly washed and ironed enabled him to go straight to the office without heading home first. Slipping in the private door, he planned to emerge from his office as if he’d been at his desk for hours. Not that anyone tracked his time. He just didn’t want to invite gossip or speculation about where he’d spent the night.

First he called Sam’s to check on his dad. “Samuel’s already at work. He called the cabin but got no answer. Where are you?”

“Dad, I had to work half the night.” And he’d spent the other half in bed with Elizabeth, not that he’d admit
that
. “Did you need something? I can stop by—”

“Blazes, no. Hazel’s here to cook for me and walk Sophie. No need to worry about me.”

“That’s good to hear.” Wil ended the call, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. Two-day beards may have been the fashion with celebrities, but not the county sheriff. He had an electric razor in his desk drawer for emergencies like these.

Zelda caught him in mid-shave. “There you are. Special Agent Buckner’s looking for you. She seemed agog about something, so you better call her.”

“All right. What’s the latest weather report?”

Zelda shook her head. “Could be a category four by the time it hits Fernandina Beach. Schools have been canceled for tomorrow and probably Friday. I imagine your brother will shut down the college, too.”

“Don’t you have any good news?”

“Sure. If the storm hits tonight, it won’t be as strong. They’re saying that’s a possibility.”

Wil dismissed Zelda, who left and closed his office door. He called Ronda Lou’s cell number, and she answered on the first ring. “What’s up?” he asked.

“FBI has a history on your twenty-two pistol.”

“Great news.” This could be the break they needed in the Cathleen Hodges homicide. “Where are you now?” he asked.

“Boyd’s Diner, where I thought you’d be. Hurry, and I’ll have you a coffee waiting.”

“Be right over.” He stuck his head out the door long enough to tell Zelda where he’d be and then headed out his private entrance.

Ronda Lou and half the county probably wondered why neither he nor Elizabeth had showed for breakfast this morning. They could keep wondering. Sheriff or not, his personal life was nobody’s business. He checked the ugly gray sky and doubled back to his Jeep. Today was no day for walking.

As it turned out, he’d have been better off to walk, because he had to park two blocks from Boyd’s. Ronda Lou waited for him in a front table just inside the diner. As promised, a mug of coffee awaited him. He’d already had a cup from the pot he’d brewed at Elizabeth’s house. He’d shunned the second cup in favor of lovemaking in the shower. He couldn’t keep from smiling at that particular memory.

“Why the goofy grin, Wil?” Lorraine asked. She switched his cooling mug for a fresh, steaming one as he took his seat.

“I’m just happy to see you, darlin’,” he drawled, earning him one of Lorraine’s
yeah, right
eye-rolls. She walked away, and he lowered his voice to Ronda Lou. “So tell me about the firearm.”

She smirked over her coffee cup. “Good morning to you, too, Sheriff Drake.”

“Sorry. I’m wound up about this investigation.” And Elizabeth Stevens—or Fia Desalvo. He’d be struggling all day to concentrate on anything but their wild night of sex, but he must. Two homicides had to be solved as soon as possible. “So, good morning, Ronda Lou.”

“All right, I’ll skip the small talk. Ballistics matches the bullet that killed the first victim. The twenty-two was purchased two years ago by someone in Texas, a Morgan O’Hare.”

He frowned at the news. “In Texas?”

“It gets better.” Ronda Lou frowned. “Or worse, depending on your perspective. Morgan O’Hare checks out at first. But further investigation reveals Morgan O’Hare died at the age of six, about twenty years ago, and is buried in Idaho.”

Wil bit back an expletive. “So we’re nowhere.”

“Not quite. Morgan O’Hare—or whoever he is— purchased a number of weapons, both handguns and rifles, in about eight different states. The FBI has a file on him. When we get back to your office, I’ll tell you the rest. First, I’m having some French toast. It’s really good here.”

Boyd’s French toast had impressed Elizabeth, too. Everything reminded Wil of Elizabeth and their night together. He had to get a grip. When Lorraine returned, he said, “I think I’ll order eggs and toast.”

Back in his office an hour later, he studied the reports Ronda Lou handed him about Morgan O’Hare. “How’d you get this stuff so fast?”

“I’d like to tell you I have a lot of clout. The truth is the FBI has been trying to nail this Morgan O’Hare imposter for some time. They’re pretty excited about your finding the weapon.”

“It’s not like it has fingerprints.”

“In a way, it does with its serial number. Remember a few years back when thousands of guns used in crimes where traced back to a single gun shop in California?”

“Sure I do. They seldom did background checks, and they sold to gun traders. I also remember it took the FBI more than a decade to shut them down. But—”

“This Morgan O’Hare bought guns from them about five years ago. A lot of guns.”

“Could Morgan O’Hare be our suspect?”

“Our offender probably bought his weapon or weapons from this arms dealer.”

He glanced at the reports, planning to read them later in more detail. Thoughts of arms dealers brought up a different image to Wil, of international smuggling of UZIs and bombs, a common misconception. Ordinary guns got into the hands of criminals or minors on too regular a basis, thanks to people like Morgan O’Hare. He’d read recently that 57 percent of crime guns were sold by a mere 1 percent of the gun dealers.

He held up the manila folder. “If the guy isn’t our killer, why are we excited about this?”

“The FBI is tracking all weapons connected to him. They could find the person he sold this particular weapon to.”

“That would be good.” Wil needed more sleep and more coffee. As if reading his mind, Zelda appeared at his door with two Styrofoam cups of fresh brew. As for sleep, he’d willingly give it up again for another night with Elizabeth.

Sunny stood in the doorway to Elizabeth’s office at lunchtime. “Where shall we eat? Please don’t say the cafeteria again.”

“We don’t have a lot of choice.” Elizabeth slid her lesson plans into her middle drawer, then changed into her athletic shoes. “There’s Hardee’s, Dairy Queen, Boyd’s, or we could drive over to Miller’s IGA and grab a salad.”

“Miller’s. Can you drive? I rode my bike.”

“In this weather?” Elizabeth grabbed her purse and then stood.

Sunny shrugged. “I live close, and the rain hasn’t started. If that storm hits, I may not get to ride for days. I need to keep in shape.”

Together they descended the stairs and headed for the main door. When Sunny pushed open one of the doors, the wind gushed inside, whipping their clothing and hair askew.

“Good grief! That’s a stiff wind.”

“Welcome to hurricane country, Liz. This is mild. Just wait.”

So much had preoccupied her that she’d given little thought to the hurricane warning. Now a shiver of fear seized her. She’d seen the destruction of Katrina and Wilma, and the news reports of countless other hurricanes. Just how prepared was she for the impending storm?

“The hurricane must be close. Dean Drake has closed the school for the rest of the week and canceled our drama rehearsals.” Elizabeth raised her voice to be heard above the wind.

“So what about tonight?” Sunny asked. “Ian says he can broil the burgers in the oven, so don’t let the weather keep you away.”

They reached her pickup. She beeped it unlocked and waited until they were inside with the doors closed before answering Sunny. “Wilson says he’ll come with me.”

Sunny gave her a wide grin. “Oh, Liz, I’m happy for you. You two make a really nice couple.”

“I thought you said he was
so
not my type.” She couldn’t resist teasing Sunny, even though the remark had originally peeved her.

“I was wrong.” Sunny waited for her to start the engine before asking, “So have you slept with him?”

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.” But heat crawled up her neck and reddened her face. Good thing she never tried her hand at poker.

Sunny took it in stride and fastened her seatbelt. “That’s a ‘yes.’“

She couldn’t deny it, not with her flaming skin, but she wouldn’t confirm it, either. Shifting gears, she traversed the backstreets to avoid the traffic on Main and First Streets. Within minutes they arrived at Miller’s IGA on Desoto. Parking took more time, as cars and SUVs filled every parking spot in front of the grocery.

Finally inside, they squeezed past the shoppers crowding the aisles until they reached the deli counter. She glanced around at the half-empty shelves. “Is there a sale we don’t know about?”

Sunny laughed. “Like I said, welcome to hurricane country, Liz. People are stocking up and getting ready to dig in.”

“How do you know so much about it? You’re from Boston.”

Sunny shrugged. “We do the same for blizzards. You never know when you’ll lose power.”

“I’m glad I already stocked up on drinking water and canned goods. I’d hate to fight this mob.”

Fortunately, the customers weren’t there for lunch, so the deli line was blessedly short. Sunny picked out an Asian salad and ordered a fountain Diet Pepsi, while Elizabeth grabbed the seafood salad and crackers, along with a can of Dr. Pepper. The checkout lines backed halfway up two aisles. Both cashiers rang up items and bagged them at a frantic pace. Finally, Elizabeth and Sunny paid and escaped the madhouse grocery.

Returning to the cab of the truck, which Elizabeth had parallel parked a block down Desoto, they ate their lunch and sipped their sodas in peace and quiet. Through the windshield, they had a view of Miller’s IGA. At regular intervals, the shoppers exited hauling armloads of plastic bags and jugs of water.

Sunny broke the silence. “I made an appointment for next week with an attorney in Jacksonville.” When Elizabeth gave her a puzzled look, Sunny added, “You know. The estate lawyer. I want to protect my trust fund … in case.”

“In case.” In case she divorced Ian? In case she died? “I thought you and Ian were okay now.”

The wind rocked the cab of the truck, and Sunny rescued her drink from the dashboard. “I don’t think everything’s okay. Let’s just say if anything happens to me, tell that sheriff friend of yours to check out Ian.”

“Why don’t you tell him now yourself? If you’re afraid—”

“Look, I’m not. Not really. I wouldn’t stay with a guy I feared. I’m just saying in the unlikely event, you know?”

“You must have a reason for this change of heart, but it’s not my business—”

“I told you, he’s spying on me. That’s creeping me out.”

“So did you mention marriage counseling?”

Sunny took a long time to answer. “Not yet. I probably overreacted. But just in case, I needed to say something to somebody. You’re the best friend I have in this town.”

Elizabeth squeezed her hand. “You’re the best friend I have in this town, too.” Well, except for Wilson, who knew her secret. There were some things she couldn’t tell even Sunny.

They returned to campus. After she’d parked her truck and gathered her trash, she turned to study her friend. Normally vivacious, Sunny frowned and seemed more pensive than usual. Were her concerns about her husband unfounded, or could Ian be a Jekyll and Hyde?