“You’re right, I do know that.” Sal got up and moved around to her side of the table. He perched his hip on the edge and leaned in close. “Want to know what else I know?” He pulled a manila folder across the table and slapped it down in front of her.
Stephanie startled at the sudden movement. The look she shot Sal now wasn’t flirtatious or innocent— It was wary and maybe even a little bit afraid.
“I know that we traced more than a hundred telephone calls from your cell phone to his over the past six months.”
She sputtered but didn’t speak.
“I also know that you have a regular rendezvous scheduled every second Saturday at the Marriott in St. Louis. At least he takes you to nice digs and not a cheap motel.” When he saw the hesitation on her face, he patted the folder. “We have copies of the hotel receipts to prove it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. If Mr. Grimes was at that hotel like you said, then he must have been there with his wife…or somebody else, maybe… But he wasn’t there with me. I can’t remember the last time I was in St. Louis.”
“Well, maybe I can refresh your memory.” The nice-guy tone was gone from his voice and he leaned so close to her face their noses almost touched. “Stop lying to me!”
She jumped and pushed herself farther back in her chair.
“Is this a picture of you?”
The woman’s eyes darted to the eight-by-ten picture Sal had pulled from inside his manila folder. Her breathing became labored and she got the trapped look in her eyes that Liz had seen before when a culprit realized they were running out of believable lies.
“We have the names and addresses of a half-dozen people who identified your photo from a wide selection of other photos we offered. They placed you in that hotel with Mr. Grimes the Saturday before last.”
Sal’s voice almost became a sneer. “Next time you try to be inconspicuous, Stephanie, you might try wearing something other than a flesh-colored see-through dress. The men we showed these pictures to didn’t have any trouble at all remembering you. Neither did their wives. Picture jog your memory, sweetheart?”
Her voice hitched and she breathed in short pants. “I want a lawyer.”
“Good idea, honey. ’Cause you’re going to need one.” Sal moved toward the door.
Liz stepped out of the room and met him in the hallway.
“Good job, Sal. At least we’ve got enough evidence to prove the two of them were having an affair. I’m still having a hard time believing that was motive enough for the Henderson murders.”
Sal shrugged. “She’s holding something back. I’ll let her sit there and stew for a while and then I’ll take another crack at her.”
“She asked for a lawyer.”
“She did?” He pounded the side of his head as he walked away. “Are you sure about that, boss? I thought she said she wanted to call her employer.” He grinned and ducked around the corner.
Liz chuckled. She knew she didn’t have to worry about Sal. He’d call a public defender for Stephanie, but who could blame him for having a friendly chat with the woman while they waited for the lawyer to arrive?
TWELVE
D
eep in thought, Liz drove the last few miles to the Granger estate, or maybe she should start thinking of it as Luke’s House. She’d been anxious and uptight about seeing Adam again after the bomb he’d dropped on her about her father and about his feelings for her.
But she should have known better.
Adam didn’t bring the subject up again and neither did she.
The past four days Adam had been funny…and warm…and kind…and attentive. Charlie and Adam entertained her each night with tales of life on a Montana ranch with more dogs than horses. Rerun and Jeremy seemed attached at the hip. The boy laughed frequently and even began speaking to them instead of just Rerun.
Adam made his presence, and his intentions, known with subtle movements. The feel of his arm across her shoulders when he’d welcome her each evening in the driveway and escort her into the house. The brush of his fingers on her face when he’d push an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. The smoldering look of his eyes. His never-ending tender smile. The masculine scent of his skin when he’d sit beside her or lean over her. The whole package was intoxicating—and Liz was enjoying every second of it.
She had made up her mind. She was going to steal some private time with him tonight, open her heart and take a leap of faith that he wouldn’t break it again. She was going to ask forgiveness for her role in the past, offer forgiveness for his and confess that she wanted a chance to see what the future held for them.
She had never expected a little child to find a crack in her armor—but he had. And once Adam had discovered the crack, he’d been working nonstop to break that crack wide open.
Thank God he had.
She turned down the driveway to the house. She was painting different scenarios in her mind about tonight, when she glanced in her rearview mirror. She slammed her foot on the accelerator and sped toward the house as quickly as possible.
She’d barely pulled to a stop when she leaped from her Smart car, ran around to the passenger side, drew her weapon and waited. She couldn’t believe that, as careful as she’d been the past few days, someone had still managed to follow her. She’d switched vehicles. She’d left town, driving in the opposite direction for miles before circling back. She’d checked her rearview mirror more frequently than she’d watched the road ahead.
Yet, when she’d turned into the driveway a few minutes ago her eyes had caught the glint of the sun reflecting off metal behind her. The crunch of gravel and a significant dust cloud announced the car’s approach.
She readied her Glock and took aim. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her pulse raced and she could feel her heart thundering in her chest. She should never have tried to protect Jeremy on her own. Thanks to her stupidity there would be no backup. The only thing standing between that child and a bullet was her.
Whoever was coming up the driveway wasn’t trying to conceal their approach. She began to breathe a little easier. Admittedly, there wasn’t anywhere to hide a car on this property. No woods to creep through. And if they parked on the main road for a quick getaway, they’d have to walk across several acres of open land to reach the house. Still, the driver was taking his time and didn’t appear to be trying to surprise anyone.
When Liz spotted the flasher bar on top of the vehicle, she holstered her weapon, walked back to the driver’s side of the car and waited. She folded her arms across her chest and gave her most intimidating glare as the patrol car pulled to a stop less than a half-dozen steps away.
Tom Miller, wearing mirrored sunglasses and dressed in his uniform, stepped from the vehicle and sauntered toward her.
“What are you doing here? Why did you follow me?” Anger laced her words. “How dare you.”
“Now, don’t get yourself all worked up, Sheriff. I didn’t follow you. Not exactly, that is.”
“What do you mean you didn’t follow me? You’re here, aren’t you? How did you locate us?”
Tom glanced over her shoulder at the house. “‘Us’? Is this where you’re stashing Morgan and the kid?”
Liz took a menacing step forward. “Do you like your job, Tom? Because if you don’t start explaining yourself in the next ten seconds, you’re not going to have one, so make it good.” She stood toe to toe with her deputy. “And take off those stupid sunglasses. You’re not a Hollywood superstar and you know I hate not being able to see into a person’s eyes.”
He removed his glasses.
“Now, talk.”
“You made a mistake, Sheriff, hiding that kid out here and not telling anyone where he is. How can we help if you keep us in the dark?”
“If I needed your help, Tom, I would have asked for it. How did you find me? I didn’t tell you where I was.”
Tom walked to the back of her Smart car, reached down, removed a tiny transmitter and held it up for her to see. “Your daddy taught me everything he knew. He was the best sheriff this county ever had—besides you, of course. He would never have forgiven me if I didn’t keep an eye on you when I thought you was gettin’ in over your head.”
Liz did a slow boil but managed to keep a calm outward demeanor. She held out her hand. “Deputy Miller, give me that transmitter.”
He handed it over.
“We’ve got a bad apple on our team, Sheriff. Rotten to the core.”
“What are you talking about?” Liz blinked a couple of times trying to process what he was saying.
“I know it ain’t easy news to hear. I understand. It wasn’t easy for me, either, when I found out. But you need to know, Sheriff. And you’re gonna need help taking care of that boy.”
Tom cupped his thumbs into his utility belt. “I’ve found out who the killer is, Sheriff. And I’ve got the proof to back it up.” He stared right into her eyes. “It’s Sal Rizzo.”
Liz’s first reaction was to laugh.
“You won’t be laughing none when you see the proof for yourself.”
Proof? That Sal was a killer?
When she saw that Tom was deadly serious, her stomach clenched as if she’d been physically punched in the gut. Her eyes widened and her lungs froze, the pain in her chest so intense she thought she might never take a breath again.
“One of my snitches identified him from a photo lineup,” Tom said. “He was seen in the alley behind Smitty’s the night that drug dealer was killed.”
“You’re crazy.” Liz couldn’t help herself. She took a step back as if she were trying to evade a lunatic. “What were you doing showing pictures of cops in a photo lineup, anyway?”
“I weren’t out to catch a cop. I was after somebody else and I needed some pictures so I slipped in Sal’s and Paul’s just so I’d have enough pictures for the guy to look at and give a valid ID.”
“I don’t believe any of this.”
“I know it’s hard for you to swallow, Sheriff, you and Sal being close and all. But it’s true.”
The rush of blood to her head made her temples pound. Her heartbeat sounded in her ears and drowned out his words.
No. This was impossible. Not Sal. Never Sal.
“You’re wrong. If you have a witness placing Sal in that alley then there’s a good explanation for it. He was probably making an arrest.”
“I checked the records. They’re clean. No one was brought in that night…or the night before or after. Definitely no drug deals on the books.”
“He told me he’s working on something,” Liz replied. “He probably was questioning a suspect or…or setting up a sting.”
“Or buying drugs?”
Liz shook her head from side to side. No. Her mind and her heart couldn’t conceive of Sal betraying her this way.
“Sheriff, the way I’ve pieced it together, Sal Rizzo developed a drug problem about nine months ago. It’s been getting worse and he’s been needing more and more of the stuff to feed his habit. He met up with my snitch and the drug dealer in the back of Smitty’s bar that night for a buy. The dealer got cocky. He doubled the price on Rizzo. They fought. Rizzo killed him. Didn’t mean to. It was an accident. But the guy’s dead just the same, ain’t he?”
Tom shrugged, folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against his patrol car. “My snitch ran for his life. Went underground. It’s taken me weeks and a lot of greased palms to find him.”
Liz’s gaze darted wildly around the yard. Jeremy’s swing sitting idle. The family of ducks in the distance gliding by on the pond. Pots of geraniums hanging from the front porch just as she’d suggested. Everything quiet. Everything normal. But a gut-wrenching fear took root in her soul and she knew from this day forward she’d never be able to believe in normal again.
“Think about it, Sheriff. Rizzo’s been handling the investigation of this case. He hasn’t had any leads for us. Ain’t that right?”
“I don’t believe any of this. Who is this snitch? I want him brought in. I want to interview him myself.”
“No problem. I’ll arrange it. But he’s gonna want immunity for his testimony. He’s pretty nervous about snitching on a cop.”
Tears burned the backs of her eyes and her throat threatened to close.
Please, God. Help me. This can’t be happening. Not Sal.
Liz closed her eyes and took several long, deep breaths. She leaned against her Smart car before she collapsed but still fought with everything in her not to let Tom see how devastated she was by his news. When she turned her head and looked at him, she’d have given anything to be able to snatch those stupid mirrored glasses out of his pocket and hide the pain she knew he’d see in her eyes.
“I suppose you’re going to try to tell me that Sal is responsible for the Henderson murders, too?” Her strained voice barely squeezed out the question.
Tom shrugged. “Haven’t figured that one out yet. But we did find a bag of cocaine under the mattress. There’s some kind of drug connection. We just don’t know yet what it is. But there’s something there. Too coincidental, don’t you think? A cop kills a drug dealer…and then that same cop is involved in the investigation of these other two killings that have some connection to drugs. Yet, he hasn’t been able to find any usable evidence in either case. Smells fishy to me. Would have raised your daddy’s hackles, for sure.”
Liz bristled beneath the last remark.
“I want you to leave, Tom. Right this minute. Pick up that snitch and have him waiting for me at the station and don’t you utter one word, not one word, do you hear me, to anyone about this. Especially not a word about this location or I’ll have your badge.”
“Will do, Sheriff.”
Before either of them could move, a sharp, piercing scream filled the air. Both of them looked toward the house. Jeremy stood in the doorway, his eyes wide and his hands slapped against his cheeks, and he screamed again.
Liz shot a look at Tom. “Your uniform. I told you never to wear a uniform around Jeremy.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I was just trying to get you alone so I could tell you what I found out. I didn’t know you were with the boy.”
The second Jeremy started screaming, Rerun started barking and howling. Charlie and Adam joined the group at the door and both of them were shouting above the din in an attempt to calm Jeremy and silence Rerun.