Betrayal with Murder (A Rilynne Evans Mystery, Book Three) (8 page)

“It’s quiet at home,” Rilynne said with a smirk.

“Not this quiet. I’ve only seen the streets of Addison Valley this empty once, but that was an entirely different kind of quiet. It was-”

“Tense,” she finished. He nodded. Though he openly talked about it-never showing any sign of dismay-Rilynne knew it was a subject that still struck a nerve.

The sudden silence was lifted a few minutes later when they arrived at the diner. Ben held the door open for her as she stepped in and walked to the table in the back corner. Ben had learned months ago not to question her particular choice in tables: against the back wall, if available, and seated facing the door. He had asked her about it once and she gave him a simple answer. If anyone decided to come in shooting, she was going to be in a position to shoot back.

“So fill me in,” Ben said as he took the seat across the table from Rilynne. “Whom did you receive the tip from?”

“I don’t know,” she replied honestly.

“Well, do you think that you can trust it? I mean, what do you think the chances are that this is where the trace came from?” he asked.

She shrugged. She knew she couldn’t convince him that she knew this town was important without bringing up questions she couldn’t answer. “When we realized who was behind the killings, a countrywide report was issued requesting information on Mifflin’s whereabouts. Thousands of tips came in, but nothing could be substantiated. This is the first tip that has come with some physical evidence to back it up.”

He nodded, waiting for the petite blonde waitress to finish taking their order before continuing. “Did you find out anything from the sheriff’s station?”

“He’s being surprisingly accommodating, actually. Usually small towns don’t take too kindly to outsiders coming in and wanting to have a look around. He looked through logs from around the time Christopher was killed, but didn’t find any incident reports involving Mifflin. He said that his detective would be in tomorrow, and he would help me out with anything I need.”

He took a swig from the beer the waitress sat down in front of him before raising his hand up to his face and dragging his knuckles mindlessly across his chin. He reached out toward the basket of fries that had been placed in the middle of the table, seemingly lost in his thoughts. Rilynne studied him carefully, trying to sense where his mind had drifted, but her own mind was too cluttered to even hazard a guess.

She was still watching his hand several moments later when he looked back toward her. As his eyes met hers, he quickly let his hand drop back down to the table. She could also just make out the shade of his ears growing warmer.

“What’s on your mind?” she asked.

He looked for a moment like he was going to try and deny it, before he took a deep, resigned breath and sat back in his seat. “I just hope you find the answers you’re looking for,” he said. “I know how hard it had been for you, and I would just hate to see it be drawn out even longer.”

She could tell by the look of longing in his eye that his motives weren’t entirely selfless, but she couldn’t blame him. He had been very patient over the past several months, letting her work through things on her own time. She couldn’t begin to imagine the uncertainty he must be feeling now.

“I’ve already gotten my closure,” she reassured him. “Now it’s just about making sure the man responsible for it faces justice.”

He gave her a half-hearted smile as if he knew what she was trying to do.

“Well, where do we start?” he asked.

“I have a map of all of the known locations where the Penland beardtongue grows,” she stated. “We can check them out to see if we can find any reason that Mifflin would have come in contact with them. They’re all outside the city limits, so he must have had some reason to be wondering about.”

He seemed to be considering the possibilities, but after a few short seconds his expression came alive. “There was another victim,” he seemed to be thinking aloud. “You said that they had cadaver dogs out in the area Christopher was discovered, but there was no sign of another body. Maybe he brought her down here.”

“That’s a long way to travel with a body,” she said. “I don’t know if he would have wanted to take such a big risk.”

“He was an officer, though,” he said. “Even if he had been pulled over, what are the chances that someone would request to search his vehicle?”

“True,” she mumbled. “But the other victim was killed nearly two weeks before Christopher. There’s no way he would still have had the trace on him after two weeks if he had brought her out here to bury her. I guess he could have gotten spooked and moved her, but that would have been very risky.”

“They were having an affair,” Ben blurted out. “He must have cared for her deeply if it resulted in him killing her, as sick as that sounds. He could have brought her straight out here after killing her, then came back either out of remorse or just for a reminder of what he’d done.”

Rilynne smiled across the table at him. “Now you’re just showing off,” she said playfully. Since shortly after meeting Ben, she had been telling him that he would make a good detective and it was for reasons like this. He thought beyond just scientific facts and was good at looking for the reasons why people behaved the way they did.

He grinned in an almost prideful way at her complement.

“We can talk to the detective about it tomorrow and see if they can get cadaver dogs out to search the areas where Penland beardtongue grows,” she said. Even as she said it, she hoped that it wasn’t true. If he had buried her body in Brooks Hollow, chances are he wouldn’t have wanted to stick around.

“What else is there?” he asked, not seeming to share her anxiety. “What do you know about Mifflin that would help to build a profile on him?”

“Let’s see,” she said, thinking back to the time she had spent with him. “He was always a bit of a drinker. It was never to the point of him having a problem, but he sure liked his whiskey.”

“Okay, what else?”

“He was a vegetarian,” she said. “He also was a golf fanatic. He played at least four times a week when the weather permitted or when we weren’t bogged down with a case.”

He nodded along with her.

“He also had a pretty distinctive scar on his right cheek.”

“So he’s a drinker, plays golf, eats a strict diet, and has a scar that people will recognize. That gives us a few places to start looking,” he replied.

The waitress seemed to bounce as she made her way back to the table to deliver their food. They waited until she was out of earshot before continuing, not wanting to risk word getting out around town as to why they were there.

“You didn’t have to come out here, you know,” she said as she picked up her burger. She dipped it into the small bowl of ranch dressing the waitress had set next to her plate and took a big bite. To her surprise, it was one of the better burgers she had ever had. Where a lot of places tend to serve their patties on the dryer side, this one was moist and perfectly seasoned. After each bite, her hands were left covered in its juices.

He looked up from his plate, studying her face carefully. After a few short moments, he looked back down and reached for his fork. “I know.”

Rilynne felt her cheeks burning as she grinned and plucked a shoestring fry from the basket.

Despite being a little before nine when they walked back to the bed and breakfast, Rilynne was struggling just to keep her eyes open. Ben appeared to be in a similar state. They walked quietly up the stairs and down the hall, Ben stopping at the door catty-corner from hers. After quickly saying goodnight, Rilynne closed the door behind her. With the heater turned off, the room was significantly cooler than when she had left. She changed into her pajamas and climbed into bed, pulling the thick comforter up around her. She took in a deep breath, the chilled air stretching into her lungs, and drifted quickly into a deep sleep.

Rilynne walked out of her room and down the empty stairs, not seeing anyone around. When she stepped out the front door of the bed and breakfast, she found herself back in Addison Valley, the police station in front of her.

“Everyone has been waiting on you,” Lori said, walking up behind her. Without another word, she walked up the steps and through the doors.

Rilynne looked up and down the street before following her in. Other than the officer sitting at the front desk, she didn’t see anyone else in the building. She walked silently back toward the elevators, a sense of anxiety building with every step. It wasn’t until the elevator doors opened on the third floor that she heard voices floating toward her.

The detectives’ office itself was empty, but she could see movement coming from the open conference room door. She placed her purse down on her desk, which sat just inside the door, and walked through the room. When she reached the conference room, she let out an involuntary gasp. Every seat at the large table, twice the size she remembered it, was filled except for one. There were also several people standing around the walls.

“It’s about time, Evans,” Detective Wilcome said as he rose from his seat. To his right, Chief Wooldridge nodded. “Take a seat so we can get started.”

Rilynne stood at the doorway for a moment, her eyes sweeping through the room. Every member of the Addison Valley homicide office was present, even several members who had been transferred out after the Pirate Killer case was closed. They had also been joined by the members of the Bodker office, including someone she hadn’t expected.

“What the hell is he doing here?” she asked abruptly. She made a movement toward him, but her path was blocked.

All eyes turned to her instead of Mifflin, who was seated at the opposite end of the table.

“Sit down, Rye,” she heard a familiar voice to her left. She turned to find Lori leaning up against the wall behind her, arms folded across her chest. “You look tired. Let’s get this meeting over with and you get the rest you desperately need.”

She looked at her dumbfoundedly, then back around the room. She didn’t understand why everyone seemed so relaxed, and why no one seemed the least bit bothered by the fact that Mifflin was sitting, unrestrained, in the room.

Before she could voice her concerns again, someone took her by the arm and directed her to the open seat directly in front of her. She was about to pull away when she looked up to find Sheriff Stigent.

“It’s all right,” he said. “We know exactly what happened now. Just sit down and we’ll get everything taken care of.” Despite his reassuring tone, the look on his face was something closer to sorrow.

After being lowered into the seat, her eyes darted around the room. She looked from face to face, and saw the same thing on each: concern.

Chief Wooldridge stood up and said, “Everyone here knows the situation at hand, and we’re here to try and find the best solution. Because this hits so close to home, we want to make sure it’s handled delicately so we have the best chance for a fair outcome. Does anyone have any questions before we begin?”

“I do,” Rilynne spoke up. “Why are you concerned with the delicacy of the situation? It seems rather cut and dry to me. Mifflin betrayed us, he betrayed me. He took the lives of at least two people, and should face the full force of the law. Being part of the department shouldn’t allow him any special treatment. If anything, he should face harsher consequences. He swore to protect, and he didn’t.”

The room was suddenly filled with a buzz of chatter. She looked around for any hint of support, but was met with only more apprehension and sorrow.

“It’s clear, isn’t it?” Mifflin spoke up. “We had hoped that having everyone here would help to snap the situation back to reality, but it doesn’t appear to. If anything, it’s only worsening the issue. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. We need to confront the problem head on. The truth is the only thing that’ll help.”

Rilynne was confused. She looked around again and saw that Mifflin’s statement had left many nodding and speaking out in agreement. She turned around toward Lori, who was now standing next to Sheriff Stigent, in hopes that someone would explain what was happening.

“He’s right,” Lori said, meeting her gaze before shifting away. “It’ll probably be best coming from you, though.”

Rilynne followed her line of sight as it moved across the room and found her mother standing in the corner. Her eyes were red and swollen. She’d been crying.