Authors: Cheryl Norman
Wilson nodded. “Yes, I did. You aren’t the first person he’s saved.”
Elizabeth emptied the tube of Neosporin, applying what she could to his wounds. “This will have to do till we get you to a real doctor.”
“Did you see what became of your truck?”
“It’s probably stuck in the mud with the bridge wreckage. It’s insured, at least.”
Her heart ached for this man. Even though she didn’t know him, she appreciated his love for his family. “Do you have insurance on your home?” she asked.
“Not hurricane insurance. We’ll have to wait and see what the damage is. I guess we’ll stay with Adam for a few days.”
Without thinking it through, she said, “I have a house on Fifth Street. I’m not going to be needing it for a while, so why don’t you and your family house-sit for me?” She met Wilson’s gaze in the rearview mirror and asked, “Or do you think it’s safe for them?”
Ben winced and grabbed his head, which probably hurt like crazy. “Safe?”
Wilson grimaced, then recovered with a fairly smooth story. “Uh, yeah. She has a huge live oak in her front yard. If it’s still standing, the house is safe.”
“Ma’am, you don’t know me. That’s mighty generous of you, but—”
“Any friend of Wilson’s is a friend of mine.”
Ben looked at her with worry-filled eyes. “Ma’am, that’s the thing. Wil and I ain’t exactly friends.”
She gave Ben her stern, professor look. “In times of trouble, we don’t nurse old grudges. Right, Wilson?”
“Right.” God bless him, he didn’t hesitate. “In fact, I’m finished nursing old grudges.”
“See? I’ve driven past your brother-in-law’s house. It’s adorable but hardly roomy enough for a family of four.” She slid the house key off her key ring, handed it to him, reciting her address.
Ben swallowed. “I don’t know what to say—”
“Just say thanks.”
She couldn’t tell him she’d have no further use of the house, anyway. But even if she wasn’t being relocated, she’d open her home to him and his displaced family. That’s what communities did to help their own. It’d been a long time since she’d felt strong ties to a neighborhood. Just another thing she’d miss when she left Drake Springs.
Ben closed his eyes and murmured, “Thanks.”
She shook him. “Hey, wake up.”
“Huh? My head is killing me.”
“I know.” She caught Wilson’s concerned frown in the mirror.
“I’m going to try the radio. Maybe it’s working.”
While Wilson radioed his dispatch with the happy news that Ben had been rescued, Elizabeth kept Ben talking. “If you’re feeling drowsy, fight it. Talk to me. Ask me questions.” Anything. Although they’d reached the city limits sign, she didn’t know how long he’d have to wait for medical attention.
“Okay,” he said. “Tell me how you know Wil.”
“We met at Boyd’s Diner, where we both eat breakfast most mornings. Have you had their French toast? It’s amazing.”
“Uh, no, ma’am. But Lorraine makes good coffee.”
Wilson stopped on Main Street to turn right on Coronado. A huge blackjack oak blocked the street and filled half the parking lot of the city building. “I guess I’ll need to drive around front.”
By the time Wilson pulled up to the front of City Hall, a crowd of people had gathered to take charge of Ben. Happy people, judging from their response to seeing him, including Adam Gillespie, a woman who had to be his twin sister, and two small dark-haired boys.
“Get down.” With his hand on her ball cap, Wilson urged Elizabeth to duck behind the seat. No one seemed to notice since all eyes were on Ben. Wilson saluted Adam. “I’ll leave him in your care.”
She lay down on the backseat after Ben got out. The Jeep moved again. After a couple of turns, Wilson stopped and cut the motor. “Okay, we’re here. Let me slip you in my private door. Then I want you to sit at my desk and don’t move, not even to go to the bathroom, unless I’m with you. Got it?”
“Got it.” She jogged from the Jeep to his office, with Wilson beside her toting her duffel bag. He bolted her inside and turned to leave. “Wait. If you’re going to leave me here awhile, let me visit the ladies’ room first.”
Once Wil had Elizabeth settled in his office, he greeted Zelda and then headed for the interrogation room, where Devon and Brady sat with Ian Davis. Ian scowled from behind a can of Mountain Dew when Wil entered the room. Wil left Ian with Devon while Brady stepped out-side to brief him.
“This guy’s a real piece of work. You wouldn’t believe what tale he’s spinning in there.”
“Try me.”
Devon hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his uniform trousers. “He says he ran because he fears for his life. He claims his wife is trying to kill
him
, not the other way around. Or she’s trying to set him up for her crimes. Either way, it makes no sense.”
“What are her crimes, according to him?”
“Murder. He says she killed both the Hodges woman and Kris Knight to make it appear that he did it. Then she staged a disappearance so he’d be the suspect. Didn’t I say he’d spun a wild one?”
The scenario was the same as the one Elizabeth had suggested except for the killer’s identity and motive. “Did he explain what her motive might be?”
Devon shook his head. “Hadn’t gotten that far. In fact, we waited for you to begin the questioning. This is all bullshit he volunteered.”
“Volunteered? You’re right—that’s suspicious. Ronda Lou, the profiler, said we’re looking at someone these women knew, someone who could get close enough to shoot each one in the head. Someone nonthreatening who had the intelligence to avoid or destroy forensic evidence. You can’t get much less threatening than this guy.”
“You have to wonder what a looker like his wife saw in a geek like him to begin with.”
Wil stared through the door’s glass window at their suspect. Short, stocky build. He hadn’t shaved in days. His thinning hair spiked in several directions, and black rimmed glasses perched askew on his large nose. Quiet, polite, gentle, he’d have no trouble disarming a woman, especially one who considered him a friend. Or husband. “Let’s go talk to him.”
Wilson’s desk looked a lot like his cabin. Messy. Left with time to fill and nothing to occupy her time, Elizabeth removed everything from his desk, then dusted the top with the T-shirt she’d soiled cleaning the mud from Ben Sawyer’s arm and face. She also dusted the monitor and keyboard on the credenza behind his chair.
During her brief visit to Wilson’s cabin, she’d caught herself fantasizing. Wouldn’t that be a perfect home for the two of them? After he’d mentioned marriage, she’d indulged in a brief daydream in which she redecorated the cabin, turning it into a cozy retreat on the river for the two of them. It wouldn’t take much to tidy up the place. How she’d love a home with a wraparound screened porch, with a swing where she could sit with a hot cup of tea, watching the wildlife.
Surely there was a way she could get her life back. If there were, which life would she reclaim? Her Horse Calls business would be difficult to reestablish since she’d abandoned all her clients without notice. The English professor’s position wouldn’t be held open indefinitely. Even if by some miracle Sullivan’s threat no longer existed, where would she return? Where did she fit in?
She stopped that line of thinking in its tracks. To stay alive, she belonged where Sullivan’s hit man couldn’t find her. End of story. With resignation, she finished dusting the furniture in Wilson’s office. Satisfied with her cleaning, she tossed the soiled T-shirt in the trash. As she replaced his telephone, stapler, wire inbox, and blotter, a Shania Twain tune finally penetrated her brain. Her cell phone ringtone.
Scrambling to pull the phone from her bag, she flipped it open. “Hello?”
“Liz, thank God!”
“Sunny? Oh, Sunny, where are you?” Weak with relief, she plopped into Wilson’s chair. “Where have you been?”
“Are you alone? Can you talk?”
“I’m alone. Where—”
“Oh, Liz, you’ve got to help me.” Sunny’s voice rose to a higher pitch as she talked. “He’s taken my car, God knows where, so I couldn’t leave and—”
“Who took your car, Ian?”
“Of course, Ian, the son of a bitch. I can’t believe I trusted him.
Loved
him! He tried to kill me.”
“I figured as much. What happened?”
“I got away, but—” Her voice broke, and she started to sob. “I’ll tell you l-l-later.”
She’d never heard so much anguish in her friend’s voice. “So what can I do to help? Call the police?”
Sunny sniffled, then seemed to compose herself. “Not until I’m safely away. Can you drive me to Jacksonville? I’m flying out as soon as they reopen the airport.”
She couldn’t drive Sunny to Jacksonville or anywhere. She’d promised Wilson she’d stay in his office. Besides, as soon as her handler arrived, she had to leave with him. “Sunny, I want to help, but I can’t leave.”
“Why can’t you leave?”
She could tell no one, not even Sunny, about her circumstances. “I’ll get someone to pick you up—”
“Someone? God, if not you, who’s left?”
Both Cathleen and Kris were dead, of course, but how could Elizabeth help Sunny and not compromise her own safety? Yet how did she explain to Sunny why she couldn’t leave?
“Liz, please. You’re the only friend I’ve got. Won’t you help me?”
“I can’t drive you to Jacksonville, Sunny. I’m sorry. But tell me where you are, and I’ll get you to the sheriff’s office.” She wasn’t about to admit that she was already there, not when Wilson had given her orders to tell no one her whereabouts. “You’ll be safe there, I promise.”
Sunny heaved a loud sigh. “I guess I don’t have a choice. Okay, I’m at a public phone at the Nite Owl Convenience Store. You remember where that is?”
“Just past Dairy Queen on First Street.”
“Don’t drive to the front. I need to keep out of sight. Look for me on the north side of the building.”
“But Ian’s—” Either Sunny had ended the call or lost the signal before Elizabeth could explain that Ian was being questioned.
Now what? She stared at Wilson’s neat desktop, then had a thought. She’d take Wilson with her. But when she opened the door to ask his secretary if she could talk to him, the older woman hung up the phone and shook her head.
“He gave strict orders, ma’am. I can’t interrupt him now.”
“Is there a deputy available who can help me?”
“Everybody’s out on calls. Chief Deputy Fischer may still be in his office.” Answering the ringing phone, Zelda pointed toward the hallway behind her desk.
Elizabeth hurried into a room labeled
Dispatch
, where she spotted Chief Deputy Fischer in an adjacent office. His door ajar, he sat at his desk talking on the phone. She waited just outside the office until he ended his call and then knocked at the wall beside the door.
He motioned her inside. “What can I do for you, Professor Stevens?”
She filled him in on Sunny Davis’s situation. “She doesn’t want Ian to know she’s escaped. He plans to kill her.”
“But he’s being interrogated now. Why can’t she come in on her own?”
“She’s frightened out of her wits. Besides, she may need medical attention. Can’t you drive over to the Nite Owl?”
He stood. “All right. Can you call her back and tell her to expect me? I don’t want to waste time hunting her down.”
Flipping open her cell phone, she checked the last number on her calls received and hit
send
. “I’m calling her now.”
Chief Deputy Fischer followed her into the dispatch room. “Tell her I’ll be in a marked county sedan.”
She nodded. He left the room just as Sunny answered the phone with a cautious “Hello?”
“Sunny, watch for a marked Foster County sedan. Chief Deputy Fisher is coming for you—”
“Are you nuts?” Sunny screeched into the phone. “Ian will know—”
“Ian’s in police custody.” Not true, but she needed to calm Sunny. Ian was being questioned at the station, which meant he wasn’t on the loose. “I tried to tell you earlier, but we were cut off. You’ll be safe now.”
“No, Liz, I won’t.” Sunny spoke in quiet defeat. “You have no idea how cunning Ian is. He bragged to me that he’s planted stuff on my hard drive to incriminate me in Cat’s murder. Kris’s, too. He set everything up well, and he’ll convince the cops that I’m not to be trusted.”