Jill Elizabeth Nelson (8 page)

“I thought Dugan's had an alarm system.”

“On their showroom, yes, but the shed was for overstock and not wired.”

Rich gusted a breath. “So it continues to look like we're dealing with clever amateurs. Smart enough to fly under the radar by not messing with alarms.”

“Pickin's have been pretty good without tangling with alarms.”

Too good. Rich's fume morphed into a boil. Those penny-ante crooks might think they were playing smart, but they'd mess up and get caught…eventually.

“Any leads?” he asked his deputy. “Tire tracks? Passersby notice unusual activity?”

“Nobody's come forward to say they saw anything suspicious last night, but we might have a partial tire tread from a trailer in the packed dirt near the shed. Of course, the tread
could be from an innocent customer, too. Traffic is pretty regular in the lot.”

Rich grunted. “Keep me updated on anything new. I'll be home by evening.”

“Will do, Chief.”

Rich tucked his phone away, scowling. His deputy was way too chipper for all the trash the department had on its plate. Probably because the guy was counting on inheriting Rich's badge after his boss got canned for incompetence. Rich squared his shoulders. Not going to happen. He'd better get a muzzle on these negative thoughts if he expected to nab the midnight larcenists, not to mention solve a half-century-old kidnapping and murder case.

Midafternoon, Rich left the headquarters of the MBCA with his head full of protocols on handling cold cases. He'd spent longer than he intended with the forensics experts, but it was worth the extra time to visit with the tech handling the evidence. The guy was a potent blend of sharp, level-headed and eager.

Already he'd determined that what had looked like dirt twined in the folds of cloth that wrapped the baby's remains was actually decayed rose petals. Another indication that whoever buried the child felt some sort of compassion or remorse, and unfortunately for Nicole, pointed even more strongly toward Frank and/or Jan Keller having played a part in the kidnapping—if indeed the remains were those of Samuel Elling. The tech also gave an educated opinion that the child had died and been buried within the time frame that the Elling baby was taken. He'd started the DNA testing for the bones and the hair from the brush Hannah had given Nicole. They'd soon know if Samuel had been discovered under the Kellers' rose bushes.

Rich returned to the hospital, a part of him a tad too
eager to lay eyes on Nicole again. Who knows how long she'd even tolerate his presence if the evidence forced him to slap cuffs on an old woman in a hospital bed. But why should it matter what she thought of him? He needed to forget Nicole. For now. Maybe forever.

Her voice carried to him as he neared Jan Keller's room, and his heart rate quickened. Was Jan awake? He knocked, and Nicole invited him in.

“Hi.” He grinned at her.

She answered with a wan smile and closed the book on her lap.

His gaze darted to the figure on the bed. No, Jan wasn't awake. She lay still and pale, head wrapped in gauze and bandages. If not for the slow, steady beep of the heart monitor, it would be hard to tell she was alive.

“I was reading to her.” Nicole lifted the book. “They say folks in a coma can hear what's going on around them. Did you have a good day?”

“Informative.” And frustrating that there'd been another robbery. But she didn't need to know about that or the preliminary forensics results. “Would you like a ride back to Ellington?”

“Maybe I should stay here.” Jan's hand lay outside the covers, and Nicole covered it with her own. “If she does have a shred of awareness, I want her to know that someone who loves her is nearby.”

“Did you bring enough clothing to stay longer?”

Nicole shook her head. “I was in too much of a hurry to think that far ahead.” She sighed. “I guess I'll go home with you now then turn around and drive my own car back here tomorrow.”

Rich's heart leaped, but he shoved the rebellious organ back into place. A few more hours spent getting to know
Nicole might turn out to be diabolical torture. Chances were that any hope of a relationship was doomed to disappointment.

 

The drive to Ellington passed too quickly. Nicole was easy to talk to, despite the heavy issues that lay between them. They'd continued their pact of the night before and kept the subjects light. The sun had sunk halfway below the horizon when they glided past the Cenex service station on the edge of town.

“Home, sweet home,” Rich murmured, and Nicole answered with a smile. He didn't respond in kind. “I'm still not a hundred percent happy with leaving you alone in your grandmother's house.”

“Worry wort. I'll be fine. I have a hunch that if Grandma's attacker was after something he either found it or discovered it wasn't there.”

“As in, Jan told him she'd already destroyed it?”

Nicole looked away.

He didn't voice the thought that hung in the air, thick as fog. Maybe once Jan Keller admitted she'd done away with evidence, the last thing that needed to be destroyed for the killer to feel safe was Jan herself.

“Can we stop by the shop quick?” Nicole asked. “I'd like to assure myself that everything's okay there.”

“Can do.”

Rich turned the SUV down Ellington's main street. Several century-and-a-half-old false fronts had been preserved among the downtown businesses, but most boasted updated facades of metal siding. The dollar store, the drugstore, the two banks, the hardware store and the newspaper and insurance offices slid past. All closed for the evening. The only restaurant on main street was also closed. Few cars sat on the tarmac and nobody trod the sidewalk. On the corner
of the third block a cheerful wooden sign announced Jan's Sewing Room above a picture window displaying merchandise. Jan Keller's was among the buildings that possessed its original stone facade. Rich parallel parked his unit across the street, and he and Nicole got out.

Wind gusted at them and a candy wrapper skittered across the pavement in front of Rich's feet as they stepped toward the store. Nicole dug keys out of her purse. A slightly acrid smell teased Rich's nostrils as she stuck her key into the lock. Then a flicker caught his eye through the picture window.

“Don't!” he cried.

Too late.

Nicole pulled the portal wide, admitting a rush of wind to the building. A bass
whoom!
greeted the fresh air. Rich dived at Nicole and bore her to the sidewalk at the base of the stone front just as the picture window exploded above them and heat roared out.

N
icole stood huddled inside the emergency blanket draped across her shoulders as she watched red-gold flames consume her family's livelihood. Ellington Community Volunteer Firefighters darted here and there, spouting streams of water on the blaze and soaking neighboring buildings to prevent them from catching fire. Men's shouts rang in the deepening dusk. The crackle of flames and the wash of heat answered them. Nicole shivered despite the blanket and the balmy summer evening.

A few feet away, Rich sat on the end gate of an ambulance. His bloody and tattered uniform shirt had been discarded while EMTs tended to an assortment of glass cuts and small scorches on his broad back—injuries he had spared Nicole by covering her with himself. Naturally, he refused to leave the scene in favor of the hospital, even though he probably should have stitches.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Nicole said for about the fourth or fifth time, but she couldn't stop reliving that horrible moment when Rich shoved her to the cement and spread himself atop her as fire boiled out at them. If not for taking instant cover behind the brick facade below the window, they would both be dead, rather than nursing minor cuts, scrapes and bruises. After the initial explosion, the fire
had receded enough for the two of them to scuttle away and call for help.

Nicole rubbed an abrasion on her elbow. The raw flesh stung, but nothing like the fierce pain of witnessing the shop reduced to embers. Her gaze riveted on the blaze that was finally admitting defeat and dying before the determined efforts of the fire fighters. How had this happened?

“We'll find out.”

Rich's stark statement drew Nicole's attention back to him. Had she spoken her question out loud, or was he reading her mind? Probably the latter. He was good at picking up on people's thoughts.

Rising, he gingerly shrugged into the shirt from their evening out in the Twin Cities. Shadows and light played over his grim features as evening darkness battled the reflection of ebbing flames. “We're going to get to the bottom of this. I promise.”

Nicole nodded, throat too full to speak.

“Let me take you home now. I—”

“Chief!” The young officer, Derek Hanson, motioned to his boss.

Rich stepped away. Nicole trailed him, but she doubted he noticed. His attention was fixed on a man holding a leash attached to a small dog. The man stood shifting from foot to foot next to the deputy.

Derek jerked a thumb at the man. “Paul here says he heard a couple of odd things a short while before you found the fire.”

Found the fire? Nicole dropped the blanket from her shoulders and hugged it to her chest. Is that what Derek called nearly being blown into the next world?

“What can you tell us?” Rich shook Paul's proffered hand.

“Buster and I were out on our usual rounds—”

“Buster?”

Paul motioned toward the terrier that whined at the fire and hugged close to his master's legs. “When we got to the corner of the Sewing Room, I thought I heard glass breaking. I stopped and looked around, but didn't see anything. The street was deserted. Then I figured out the sound probably came from the alley around back.”

“Did you investigate?”

Paul stiffened. “Are you kidding? I—er, well, that isn't Buster's and my usual route, so we moved along up main street. A couple seconds later, I heard an engine roar, like someone was giving it the gas.”

“Did you see a vehicle?”

“Nope. The car noise came from the alley, and it went the opposite direction.”

Rich's quick sigh echoed Nicole's. She continued to hang back and let Rich handle the questions. This was his job, and he did it well.

“Thanks for the info, Paul,” Rich said. “One more question. Was there anything distinctive about the engine sound?”

Paul scratched under his ear. “Deep. Kind of gravelly like a sports car.”

Rich and Derek exchanged glances. Nicole knew a couple of people with sports cars right in the Kellers' neighborhood. Did the information mean something special to the police?

“You know who to check up on,” Rich told his deputy.

The younger man jerked a nod.

“You done with me?” asked the man with the dog.

“Thanks, Frank.” Rich shook his hand again, and Buster and his master hustled away.

Derek pulled a frown as his gaze followed man and dog.
“Too much crazy stuff happening around here these days. I thought I'd come back home after the academy and cut my rookie teeth in a quiet little town. Hah! The equipment thefts with no clues and no witnesses are downright freaky. Makes us look stupid. Then a baby is discovered beneath an upstanding citizen's rose garden, an old lady gets attacked in her home and now this.”

“Hang in there,” Rich said. “We'll catch these perps. They'll make a mistake, and then they'll be behind bars before they know what hit them.”

“I sure hope you're right. Anything developing on the rose garden baby case?”

“I've got a few angles to pursue. I want to find out who might have had a vendetta against the Elling family. Business associates. Employees.”

Derek grimaced. “My grandmother, Gudron Hanson, was a cook for the Ellings at the time of the kidnapping. My mom told me about it, but warned me not to bring the subject up to her. The incident broke Grandma Goody's heart, but not because she lost her job. Mom says Grandma was going to quit anyway because she was about to marry my grandfather.”

Nicole caught her breath and stepped closer.

“Is your grandmother still alive?” Rich asked the question uppermost in Nicole's mind.

“Sure,” Derek said, “but she's in the nursing home and not all there, if you know what I mean. Even if she wasn't going in and out of focus like some waterlogged camera, she won't talk about the kidnapping. My mom said she'd just look sad and walk away if anyone mentioned it.”

“I'm going to try talking to her anyway tomorrow,” Rich said. “You follow up on that sports car while I take Nicole home, I—” Rich turned and nearly ran into her.

Nicole gazed into his startled face. “When you talk to Goody tomorrow, I want to be there.”

“I don't think—”

“Good idea!” the deputy burst out. “She might open up to you, Nicole. She thought the world and all of Jan Keller. Used to be a regular customer at the sewing shop.”

Nicole nodded. “I remember my grandma mentioning her friend Goody Hanson.”

Derek looked toward his boss. “If you're set on talking to her, I figure she'd talk to a woman before some strange man. No offense, Chief.”

Rich frowned and studied Nicole. “Wouldn't you rather stay home so you can look for the insurance information on the shop?”

“The policy will wait where it is until I get around to finding it.”

Rich lifted his hands in defeat. “All right. I'll pick you up in the morning. But now let's get you home, unless you can think of some place else to stay.”

“Negative.”

“I thought not.” Rich poked a finger at Derek. “Pass the word. Drive-bys on the Keller property every half hour.”

“Got it!” Derek trotted away.

Rich ushered Nicole toward his SUV with a hand at the small of her back. Sweat popped out on Nicole's forehead as she fought an overwhelming impulse to lean into his comfort and let him wrap an arm around her. Brooding silence hung between them in the vehicle on the short drive to the Keller home. Rich must have a million better things to do than chauffeur her around, but he did it without complaint. He walked her up to her door, and insisted on checking the inside of the house. The place was deserted, and the mess was exactly as it had been only yesterday before their hasty run to the Twin Cities hospital.

“I'm sorry…about everything.” Rich squeezed her hand at the door as she let him out.

“I know.” She pulled her hand away. The warmth of his touch was too appealing to her emotions, his broad shoulder too inviting for a good long cry.

And then he was gone.

Numb and exhausted, Nicole locked the door then checked every bolt on every entrance and window. Finally, she dragged herself upstairs to her grandmother's guest bedroom where she'd installed her things. Not much to show for a decade of married life, and before that, full and active growing up years. Most of her belongings were in storage. Not needed here at Grandma Jan's.

What if her grandmother never came back? With the shop gone, there'd be nothing to hold Nicole in Ellington. Where would she go? It seemed no matter where she tried to plant roots, they got torn up.

Nicole shook herself. She couldn't afford to spend time feeling sorry for herself. The important thing was to catch whoever assaulted her grandmother. Had that person also torched the shop? Or had that been an accident? Maybe a gas line had sprung a leak.

Sure, just like Grandma was attacked by a passing burglar who had nothing to do with the baby in the rose garden.

Her teeth ground together. Somebody had a lot to answer for, and they weren't driving her out of the family home until and unless she was ready to leave. There was one item from her married life that she'd brought here. Something her grandmother knew nothing about because she would have had a “conniption,” as she'd put it.

Nicole got her suitcase out of the walk-in closet and plunked it onto the bed. From a zipper compartment in the bottom she pulled a shiny black object. The weight
was heavy in her hand. She hadn't kept the pistol Glen had bought her loaded and in her dresser drawer since moving to Ellington. Time to revert to that old cop's wife's habit.

If this creep came skulking around here again, he'd have far more to deal with than one little old lady. Nicole was a crack shot on the firing range, but she'd never pointed a gun at a human being. In this case, she wouldn't hesitate.

Would she?

 

The next morning, Rich scowled at the road on the five-minute drive from the Keller house to the nursing home on the east edge of town. The faint scent of smoke tainted the atmosphere, reminding him of last evening's tragedy. Plus the dispatcher had called at 7:00 a.m. to tell him a farmer had reported small equipment missing overnight. Then Nicole had answered his knock around eight-thirty looking too cute for his comfort, despite the dark circles under her eyes. He'd noticed the same smudges on his own face while shaving this morning. They were a fine pair of raccoons off to interview a befuddled octogenarian.

“Are you in pain?”

Nicole's soft query jerked him out of his dark meditations.

“A little.” He rippled his shoulders and winced. “No worse than high school.”

“High school?”

“We beat each other up pretty good in football.” A smile tugged at his lips.

She laughed. “All in the name of becoming a hometown hero. You did it right in my books last night.”

Little ripples of pleasure passed through Rich then the glow of the compliment dimmed. “I just wish it hadn't been necessary.”

“Me, too.”

Comfortable silence fell as Rich found a parking space in the small lot. They got out and headed for the front door of the single-story, redbrick building.

Nicole cast him a questioning look. “How much do you want me to participate in the conversation?”

Rich smiled at her. She was a savvy woman and thinking clearly, despite her losses. “If Goody responds better to a woman, maybe you could get her talking and relaxed.”

“Before you spring the bomb on her.”

Rich winced. “It's not to my taste to sneak up on an old woman, but we've got to pursue every lead we can get, even if it's a long shot.”

“I wasn't criticizing. I totally get it. As crazy as it sounds, Derek's grandmother is a potential suspect in the baby case.”

Rich opened the door for Nicole, and they stepped into a spacious lobby/dining room combo. An ornate fountain bubbled in one corner and a sitting area featured leather furniture and a large-screen TV. The couch stood empty, but several residents watched a game show from their wheelchairs. The large space smelled of whatever had been served for breakfast. Rich's stomach growled, and he cleared his throat to cover the sound. After he got the call about the missing equipment, he'd forgotten to eat.

Fortunately, Nicole had gone ahead to the reception desk to ask where to find Gudron Hanson. Soon they were in a room about the size of a generous bedroom. The area held a dresser, a single bed, a television and stand, a shelf hosting several live plants, an enormous bulletin board crammed with family photos, a straight-backed chair and a large recliner. Goody, garbed in a flowered housedress, reigned over her room from the recliner. Wispy white hair framed a broad Nordic face seamed with wrinkles.

Milky-blue eyes gazed in their direction “Wh-who is it?” she quavered.

“Nicole Keller,” Nicole answered, using her maiden name. “And my friend Rich Hendricks.”

“Hendricks?” The old woman frowned up at him. “Don't know any Hendricks. Know some Kellers.” Her gaze fell to Nicole. “You related to Frank and Jan?”

Nicole settled on the guest chair with a chuckle. “I'm their granddaughter.”

A smile spread across Goody's face, exposing teeth too perfect to be her own. “How nice you came to visit. How are your grandparents? Oooh, I forgot. Frank passed, didn't he?”

“That's right, but Grandma Jan's still kicking.” Nicole's face paled, but her voice remained steady.

Rich mentally applauded her composure despite the thoughts and fears that had to be going through her mind. He squeezed her shoulder, and she sent him a grateful glance. She was doing great, and Derek's grandmother seemed more aware than he'd expected. Maybe something useful could come from this interview after all.

For the next few minutes, Nicole and Goody ignored him as they reminisced about Jan and Frank Keller. The old woman's delighted cackle punctuated the conversation. A sparkle lit Nicole's gaze at the fond memories. Rich bit back his questions. These women deserved a few lighthearted minutes. He could be patient.