Crime & Passion (10 page)

“Hey, Donovan.” Eric Sanders poked his head
around the doorframe. “Can I have the keys to the police cruiser? I
left my notepad in the glove box.”

“I’m not sure it’s locked.” Donovan fished
the keys from his pants pocket. “You work all day?”

Eric nodded. “Pretty spooky at that crime
scene, huh? Who’d want to hurt a dog? The world’s gone crazy.”

Donovan stared at Eric, trying to decide if
the young man was capable of murder. Scratch that. Of course he was
capable. Everyone was. Still, he didn’t think Eric would do it in
cold blood.

“Guess Chief’s going to have us all working
solo for a little while,” Donovan said. “At least until we catch
this sicko.” He jiggled the keys and stretched them toward
Eric.

“Yeah, he said something about that.” Eric
grabbed the keychain and looked over his shoulder out the open
door. He leaned closer to Donovan. “I don’t know why,” he
whispered, “but Chief asked me to look in the car for your cell
phone. Do you know what’s going on?”

“My cell?” Donovan kept his own voice low. He
didn’t know what the Chief would want with his phone. “I lost it
last week.”

Eric breathed a little sigh. “Good to know,
partner. Things have been tense around here since Madeline Scott
left. I don’t know what Chief’s thinking, but something’s not
right.”

“He thinks I did it.”

“No shit?” Eric shook his head. “But you
really were sick in the bathroom…weren’t you?” His voice shook
uncertainly on the last few words.

Donovan rolled his eyes. The rookie could
believe whatever he wanted to. “Go check the car like you were
told. I’ll talk to Stone.”

Eric clenched the keys in his hand and walked
to the door. “Good luck, Andrews.”

Donovan didn’t have to wait long wondering
why Stone wanted his phone. Almost as soon as Eric left, Chief
Stone entered and took a seat behind his desk.

“Did Madeline Scott tell you what we talked
about this morning?”

Donovan stood and clasped his hands behind
his back. Somehow, he felt more secure on his feet. Maybe it came
from receiving one too many beatings while growing up, but Donovan
liked to have a ready exit for any confrontation.

“She did, sir,” he answered. “She thinks you
suspect me. She’s wrong, isn’t she?” Donovan had felt more
confident about that before speaking to Eric. Now, he wasn’t so
sure.

Stone sighed. “I didn’t realize she’d jump to
that conclusion when I questioned her, and I couldn’t get her off
that tangent. Do you think she’ll tell anyone else?”

Donovan narrowed his eyes. Chief hadn’t
exactly given a ringing endorsement in favor of Donovan’s
innocence. “She didn’t want me walking into an ambush. I can’t
believe you actually suspect me based on a nickname. Don’t you
think that’s a bit weak?”

“Actually, I do. When Lindsey first mentioned
something about the name, we all thought that was crazy
talk—another one of your castoff women trying to get even with
you.”

Donovan didn’t miss the grimace Stone made
when he said that. He shouldn’t have dated the Chief’s daughter.
Making Suzie Stone one of his ‘castoff women’ was one of the worst
choices Donovan had made.

“Lindsey hates me,” Donovan agreed. “I might
not be the best date in the world, but I’d never kill anyone. I’m
not a violent man.”

Stone pulled a folder off his desk, and
Donovan read his own name on the tab. “I’d like to think that,
Andrews, but it’s not true. You’ve hurt a lot of people.”

Donovan’s mouth dried out. “What do you mean?
There’ve been complaints from our resident abusers, but nothing
ever stuck.”

“Because you had Henry for a partner, and he
backed up your side of the story.” Stone shook his head. “I’m not
talking about the complaints from my town. This is your record from
Los Angeles.”

Donovan’s legs buckled beneath him, and he
sat abruptly in the chair. “What do you know about LA?”

Stone slid the folder across the desk. “See
for yourself. It’s all here. Your old Captain did you a solid when
he transferred you here. Sang your praises, and I never worried
when your file didn’t arrive.”

Donovan opened the folder with shaking hands.
He shifted through the papers, noting the numerous complaints
against him from men in LA. As he made his way down the pile a
picture arrested his attention, and Donovan didn’t look any
further. The dead boy’s hazel eyes had haunted his dreams the last
twelve years. Now they stared at him, accusing once more.

He shut the file and fought back tears,
trying not to remember that awful day. “It was a good shot.
Everyone said so. I had to shoot that kid.”

“I’m not disputing that. I already knew about
the shooting.” Stone took the folder back, putting it under the
other papers on his desk. “It’s the other stuff in your record I
never heard about. You made quite a name for yourself, beating up
men who abused their children.”

Donovan shrugged. No sense denying it—the
proof was in the file. “With all due respect, they deserved it,
sir.”

“Maybe they did, but I can’t endorse
vigilante justice just because you have a badge.” Stone slapped the
desk. “They were about to take your shield in LA, Andrews. One more
screw up and you were out of there, even before you shot the
kid.”

Donovan flinched, pushing away the memory of
that day he been forced to extinguished the young boy’s life. He
wondered who Chief Stone spoke to in LA. Donovan’s old Captain
would’ve never given up information about the complaints. They were
of like minds when it came to dickwads using kids as their personal
punching bags. Someone new must be in charge.

“Knowing this information,” Stone continued,
“it’s not such a stretch to believe you killed Frank Johnson.”

Donovan met Stone’s eyes, challenging him.
“You better have more proof than a damn name written on a wall.
That’ll never hold up.”

“Where’s your cell phone?” Stone asked
quietly.

“I told you this morning, I lost my phone. I
used it last week when Eric and I went to the hardware store.”
Donovan felt his anger rising and struggled to keep his tone level.
It didn’t help knowing Chief Stone ordered Donovan’s partner to spy
on him. “Remember? We picked up those kids for stealing the
toolset. I called their moms, but haven’t seen my phone since.”

“And you haven’t looked for it?”

He shrugged. “You know I hate that damn
thing. You’re always interrupting my time off if I carry it, so I
haven’t bothered. Call the store. They probably have it locked up
in their office.”

A knock sounded on the door.

“Enter,” Stone hollered.

Eric walked into the room, darting a
wide-eyed stare at Donovan before facing Stone. He walked to the
desk, placing Donovan’s car keys on the pile of papers. He pulled
an evidence bag from his pocket and set that down too. “It was
there, as you suspected, sir.”

Donovan looked through the clear plastic of
the bag. Shit. His phone must have been in the car the entire time.
Now, it looked like he lied. He couldn’t remember ever seeing it
after the store. He’d been sure he left it on the counter.

“Where was it?” Stone asked.

Eric glanced at Donovan again, and the look
in his eyes told Donovan all he needed to know. His partner had
lost faith in him and thought he was a liar.

Eric shook his head. “It was in the center
console, right where he always keeps it.”

“Good work,” Stone said. “You can go home.
Check on Madeline Scott on the way. I promised her police
protection.”

Donovan still didn’t like the idea of Eric
being alone with Maddie. At least she wouldn’t let him into the
apartment.

“Sure thing, Chief.” Eric turned, not meeting
Donovan’s eyes as he walked out.

Donovan shot from his chair as soon as Eric
left, decided it would be best to face this head on. “What’s the
meaning of this? Why are you worried about whether or not my phone
was in the car?”

“I need your gun, and I suggest you hire a
lawyer.”

“Are you charging me with something?”

Stone shook his head. “Not yet. Sure you
don’t want to lawyer up before we talk?”

“You really suspect me?” Donovan asked. “But
I’m innocent.”

“Remember when I told you Stephanie said
Frank received a call shortly before his murder?”

Donovan nodded, a sinking feeling in the pit
of his stomach.

“Didn’t you think we’d trace it? Maybe you
figured no one would find out he got a call that night.” Stone
shrugged. “We might not have, if Stephanie hadn’t said
something.”

“I didn’t make that call.”

“I need your gun,” Stone repeated, pointing
to the corner of his desk.

Donovan took the .40 caliber out of the
holster at his side. It had been twenty-one years since he went
without a handgun. The weapon was a part of him. He depressed the
button to release the clip, ensured there wasn’t a bullet in the
chamber, and placed the Glock 22 on the desk, setting the clip on
top of it. “Want my shield too?”

“Not yet. Consider yourself on enforced
vacation. You’re suspended, but I’ll allow you to use your paid
time off.”

Donovan knew he should feel grateful. Chief
Stone could have demanded his shield and thrown him in lockup for
at least twenty-four hours. He didn’t need strong evidence for
that. Despite what Donovan did to Suzie, the man remained fair.
“Thanks.”

Maybe Maddie was right to suspect someone of
framing him. He never called that asshole. Hell, if Donovan had
called on Frank, it would have been in person. And he would’ve used
his fists, not a baton and nylon rope.

Donovan wracked his memory, trying to think
back to the hardware store. He remembered setting the phone on the
counter after calling the second kid’s mom. Lots of people shopped
there. Half the town passed through that store daily. Anyone could
have snagged it. Donovan was so averse to carrying the thing, he
hadn’t even missed it until the following afternoon. Depending on
how long it sat on the counter, any number of people would have had
access to it.

Why would they steal it? That was the
million-dollar question. He had a banner on the screen with his
name, since he lost it so often. Anyone who happened upon it would
know the phone belonged to him.

“I rarely lock the squad car when I’m on a
call,” Donovan said slowly, trying to piece together his defense,
praying Stone listened. “If someone is trying to frame me, like
Maddie suggested, they could’ve called Frank and returned the phone
afterward without me knowing.”

Stone ran his hands through his graying hair.
“Even if you called Frank, that doesn’t prove you killed him.
That’s why you’re keeping your shield. Even the Maddie connection
is highly circumstantial.”

At least Chief realized that. Donovan had to
be grateful for any break he received at this point. “So what am I
supposed to do?”

“I’ll have one of the guys drive you home.
You lay low until we figure things out. I won’t arrest you unless I
have to. Looks bad for all of us.”

“Guess Eric Sanders is advancing rank quicker
than he thought. Just a month-old rookie, and he’ll already take
command of my police cruiser.” Donovan laughed, without any humor
in it. Twenty-one years as an officer might be for nothing, all
because Donovan enjoyed beating the shit out of men who deserved
it.

***

Madeline looked through the peephole in the
door, her anxiety level rising when she saw Eric Sanders on the
other side. She stared quietly for several breaths, wondering if
she should answer or pretend to be gone.

“Miss Scott? Chief Stone asked me to check on
you. Is everything okay?”

Of course, Eric had only come to check on
her. She’d let her imagination run wild today. He wasn’t a killer.
She’d heard Eric just finished at the police academy before coming
to work here. Why would he become an officer if he wanted to kill
people instead of protect them? She felt embarrassed for suggesting
Eric might be the culprit.

She kept the new security lock on and cracked
the door open. “Everything’s fine, Officer Sanders. I appreciate
you coming by, but I’m quite safe.”

He regarded her through the two-inch opening.
“Mind letting me in to have a look around? I’d feel better if I
checked your windows and stuff.”

Madeline shook her head, smiling to soften
her refusal. “I appreciate the offer, but Donovan took care of that
already. You have a good night, okay?”

Eric closed his eyes briefly, a pained look
crossing his face. “After the shocks I’ve had today, I’d feel
better if I checked myself. You can never be too careful.”

She looked at Eric, comparing him to the
person on the beach the other evening. He couldn’t be taller than
five foot six. She had a hard time estimating the killer’s height,
but Eric seemed too short. In any event, he didn’t seem capable of
overpowering a strong, muscular man like Frank Johnson.

“What shocked you today?” she asked, hoping
Eric hadn’t noticed her studying him.

“Some people around here aren’t what I
thought they were.” He shrugged.

Hmmm...cryptic. Not particularly
helpful.
“Care to enlighten me?”

He shook his head. “Police stuff. You
understand, ma’am.”

Madeline nearly laughed. Ma’am—as if she were
an ancient granny instead of a thirty-three-year-old woman. Eric
couldn’t be more than a few years younger than she was. However,
she was sure he didn’t mean to be offensive, but respectful.

“I won’t press you,” Madeline said. “As far
as you entering my home, I have to decline. Don’t worry. You’ve
done your duty. Tell Chief Stone I’m safe and sound.”

Eric leaned against the doorframe. “Can I ask
you something of a personal nature?”

“Depends how personal.”

Eric’s fair skin flushed crimson. “Nothing
like that. It’s just I’m new to town, Miss Scott, and people say
you are too.”