Shadows from the Grave (25 page)

“God, Gordon!” Chase managed. “Why? Hasn’t she been through enough? And her family… I can’t believe they agreed to it.”

“They weren’t happy about it,” Gordon admitted. He gestured to Stacy, who pulled out a copy of the letter from the casket. She slid it across the table to Chase.

“That’s a letter we found in the casket with Kiely. Have you ever seen it before?” Gordon asked.

Chase looked at the copy, reading the contents. “No,” he said slowly, “I haven’t.” He paused and sat back suddenly with a sharply indrawn breath. Stacy could see his throat work convulsively.

“This came from her casket?” Chase asked. When Gordon nodded confirmation, he continued, his voice thready, “Then these stains on the paper, they aren’t water, are they?”

Stacy shook her head. “No, they aren’t, Chase.” Horrified, Chase just stared at her, and she could see the blood drain out of his face. He grasped the edge of the table and scooted his chair backward. For a minute, she was afraid he was going to pass out.

John placed a hand on the back of Chase’s neck and pushed him so that his head was between his knees. “Take some deep breaths, Chase, that’s good. Can we get some ice water?” he asked Stacy. She turned to look at the mirror, and a quick tap from the other side let her know that the message had been received.

“It’s on its way,” she said.

“I’m okay,” Chase told them, his voice muffled and ragged. “Just give me a minute.” When he gave a wet sniff, Stacy grabbed a box of tissues from the mirror ledge behind her and pushed it toward him. John grabbed a handful and handed them to Chase under the table.

After a minute, Chase straightened, his eyes red-rimmed. He was still pale, but he looked a little more stable. “Sorry about that,” he said, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting…
that
.” A shudder wracked his body.

“I take it you didn’t write this note, then?” Stacy asked.

“No. I wonder, though… have you talked to the guy who got her pregnant?” he asked.

“Her family won’t tell us who that was,” Gordon said. “Her sister swore she didn’t know.”

Chase was stunned. “What do you mean, Amy Lynn doesn’t know? She was all too happy to throw him in my face ten years ago,” he said. “When was she last asked about it?”

Gordon thumbed through the notes Detective Hart had given him. “It looks like she was asked about it after she received the package, and she denied having ever known who it was. I don’t think there’s ever any mention of the man’s name in the original interviews, either, from what I can recall. What did she tell you about him?”

Chase considered the question, rubbing the back of his neck with a hand as he thought. “It was Kiely’s birthday, I guess, the first one after she died. So about four months after everything. I had gone down there to the cemetery, and Amy Lynn was there. Things got pretty ugly,” he admitted. “We both said some things we shouldn’t have, and part of her diatribe at me was to throw the pregnancy in my face again. She’d first brought it up after Kiely disappeared, but she’d never mentioned the father before.”

“Why didn’t you ever mention that to anyone, Chase?” Stacy asked.

“I did,” Chase said, shocked at the question. “I told the detective who was handling the case, Detective Farris. He checked into it, and the next time I talked to him, he told me it was a dead end. Remember, that’s when I was still in close contact with the cops. I was at UK, so it wasn’t hard to do.”

“Farris is retired, but he shouldn’t be too hard to get in touch with,” Gordon said. “Do you happen to remember the father’s name?”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Chase groaned. “It was ahhh, crap. Terry, Tony, something like that. Tim… no. Tommy. Tommy Mullins,” he exclaimed. “Yeah, Tommy Mullins, I’m pretty sure.”

Gordon wrote the name down, and then he paused for a long moment. With a mysterious look, he passed the pen and a sheet of paper to Chase. “Do me a favor. Copy that note, just the first few lines.” Chase shot him an unreadable look but did as he was asked.

When he finished, he started to lay the pen down, but Gordon stopped him. “Now copy it with your left hand.”

Chase frowned. “Why?”

“Just humor me.”

“I’ve been doing that all day, and it hasn’t gotten me anywhere,” Chase muttered, but he complied. Task completed, he waited for Gordon’s next instructions. Gordon gestured for the paper, and when he looked at the lines Chase had written, he smiled. He passed the note to Stacy.

“This isn’t even close,” she said. “And you are definitely right-handed. I can barely read this chicken scratch of the left-handed version.” She looked at Gordon, who was still smiling. “Why does that make you so happy?”

“Because the day after Kiely disappeared, Chase broke his arm. His right arm,” Gordon explained. “There is no way he wrote that note. The handwriting’s too smooth, and it isn’t even remotely close to Chase’s style. The note we found had to have been written around the time Kiely’s body was found, probably afterward. Chase physically couldn’t have created it.”

John spoke up. “You know it isn’t that simple, Agent Gordon. Certain people,” he said, shooting an icy glare at the mirror, “will probably argue the point.”

“Let them,” Gordon said. “Chase is a lawyer. That means there are copious amounts of writing samples we can pull from over the years, probably even some from ten years ago. It would be child’s play to get a handwriting expert to do a sworn affidavit. Every theory Detective Hart had hinged on this note, the DNA, and Chase’s alibi. Without the first two, there’s not a leg to stand on. As far as I’m concerned, we’re done here.”

There was a loud thump from the observation room, followed by raised voices. In seconds, Stacy was out of the room, Gordon right behind her. Everyone had spilled out of the conference room, as well, drawn by the commotion. Chase and John hurried to join them. As they reached the hall, the door to the other room slammed back on its hinges and into the wall.

Detective Hart rushed out and went straight to Gordon, getting in the taller man’s face. “What the fuck was that?” he screamed. “Do you know what you just did? Do you?” He pushed a finger into Gordon’s chest. Before anyone else could react, Gordon had the detective shoved face-first into the wall with his arms pinned behind his back. Hart cursed, and Gordon tightened the hold on his arms.

“Greg, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Gordon growled. “Are you trying to lose your badge?” When he felt the detective relax, he moved back slowly and released his grip with caution. With so many law enforcement officers crowded into the hall, most of them already emotionally primed, the tension was palpable.

“Let’s all take some deep breaths and try to calm down,” Wyatt said in a low voice. Detective Hart turned around to face Gordon, and the virulent hatred on his face stunned Stacy. She realized that whatever the man’s motivations were, they were very personal.

The detective looked at everyone in the hall and then let his gaze rest on Chase for a moment. He dismissed him and sneered, “You think
I’ll
lose my badge over this, Gordon?” he asked. “As a matter of fact, I’d bet you’re the one who ends up unable to get a job as a security officer,
Special Agent
. You’ll regret this. I promise you that.”

Stacy wasn’t surprised when Gordon laughed, but the icy cold look he leveled at the detective did shock her. Gordon stepped up to the man and bent his head so that their faces were on the same level. “Do your worst,” he challenged. A long, tense silence passed as everyone waited for whatever was coming next.

It was broken when Wyatt spoke. “Deputy, escort the detective out, and make sure he gets across the river.” Without another word, Detective Hart followed the deputy down the hall. Stacy felt like he had blocked them all out of his mind, and they had ceased to exist in his world. When he disappeared from sight on the other side of the locked door, a collective sigh of relief split the air.

Chase was the first to speak. “Well, folks, as fun as it’s been, I’m ready to go home.” He glanced at his watch. “Wow, I thought it would be later.” Only three hours had passed since the interrogation had begun, but Stacy agreed—it did feel like more time had passed.

“You kids go on, then,” Wyatt said. “Get out of here. We still have a few things to discuss, Agent Gordon, Stacy.”

As everyone started filing down the hall, Chase hung back. His face unreadable, he walked up to Gordon. After a moment’s pause, he held out his hand. Gordon’s relief was almost tangible, and he clasped Chase’s hand with both of his.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” Chase said. Gordon nodded, and they watched as Chase hurried to join his family. When Wyatt laid his hand on Gordon’s shoulder in a comforting gesture, Gordon jumped.

“You pulled a nice, fat rabbit out of your hat in there, Gordon. How serious do you think Hart was about you regretting that decision?” the sheriff asked.

Gordon shoved a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, he was dead serious,” he replied. “And that makes me wonder just what he has up his sleeve. There’s no doubt now; he’s definitely hiding something.”

Stacy and Wyatt agreed. “Then maybe we should try to figure out exactly what that is,” Stacy said, “before it comes back to haunt us all.”

It didn’t take long for Chase to catch up with everyone. As soon as they were outside, Beth turned and threw her arms around his waist, holding on tightly. Chase cursed Hart all over again when he saw the worry on her face. He returned the hug and ruffled her hair.

“I’m okay, sis,” he consoled her. “I’m okay.”

Beth pulled back and narrowed her eyes. “You don’t look okay. You look worn out. What happened in there?”

Chase shook his head. “Beth, no offense, but I’m all talked out. I just can’t do any more today.”

She started to protest but stopped before she even got a word out. “Okay,” she said reluctantly. “But you will sit down with us soon, right? And we’ll figure this thing out.”

Chase ruffled her hair again and gave her another hug. “I will, I promise,” he said with a tired smile. “I’m sorry about the roof,” he told Ethan.

“Forget the roof. It’s not going anywhere,” Ethan returned.

“Chase, what’s your schedule looking like tomorrow?” John asked as they reached their vehicles.

“I’m in court most of the day.” He flipped his thumb back at the courthouse. “Do you think this is going to be a problem for me, as far as work goes?”

John grimaced. “It’s hard to say, but I wouldn’t be surprised if your office doesn’t get some phone calls, at least. Look, I’ll give you a call tomorrow afternoon. You kids stay safe out there, and I’ll see you soon.” He headed to his car, got in, and drove away.

“The joys of living in a small town,” Jason quipped, not quite bitter but certainly more acerbic than he usually was. “Chase, we’re going to head out. Hannah needs to pick up Paulo. Call me if you need me, if you need
anything
.” He gave Chase a tight hug.

“I will,” Chase promised. He turned and hugged Hannah. “Thanks for coming down here.”

“Where else would we be?” Ethan asked as he and Beth moved toward her SUV. “We’re heading out, too. Let us know if you need anything, okay?”

“Annie, are you going to head back now? She rode in with us,” Beth told Chase. There was an awkward moment as Annie and Chase eyed each other, and Ethan stepped in to grab Beth’s arm in a gentle hold. Despite her protests, he pulled her toward the Beast, Beth’s SUV.

“We’ll be over here, getting the air cooled down,” he said. “Take your time; there’s no hurry.” He wasn’t quite able to hide his grin.

Chase waited until they were inside the vehicle. “Oh, that wasn’t awkward at all,” he teased. “I told you they’d be fine about us.”

Annie gave him a small smile and tucked her hair behind her ear nervously. “So you did. Do you want me to go home with you, or…?”

Reaching out, Chase tugged her close and wrapped his arms around her. He rested his chin on her head with a weary sigh. “Would you be offended if I said I need a little time alone?” “You aren’t feeling regrets, are you?” she asked, a quiet stillness throughout her body that told Chase more than words how much she was waiting for him to let her down. “The last thing I want is for you to feel obligated to spend time with me.”