Authors: Deanndra Hall
Tags: #Romance, #Drama, #Erotica, #Erotic Romance, #Mystery
“Clayton, don’t!” Tony ran past him and got in front of him. “Son, please!” He pushed Tony’s hands away even as his dad tried to stop him, and walked right up to the body. Clayton took one look and fell to his knees, a silent scream on his lips, and Tony grabbed him and threw his arms around him, shielding him from the sight.
“Oh my god . . .” he managed to gasp, trembling all over as Tony held him.
“Oh, son, I know! I’m so sorry.” Tony looked up at Bryson Hawkins and whispered, “I don’t believe it. That’s Dottie, my ex-wife.”
“Nik, baby, I need you to do me a few favors, okay?”
“Sure! Whaddya need?” She’d showered and dressed, so she was ready for anything – within reason.
“I need you to go and pick up Annabeth. Talk to her boss first, then take her to the house. But don’t tell her why.” Tony’s voice sounded strained. “I can’t go to her – I’ve got to stay here with the cops. But Clayton’s coming over there, and the two of you can tell her together.”
“Cops? What’s going on? Tell her what?” This wasn’t sounding good.
“Tell her the body they found at the jobsite is Dottie’s.”
Nikki gasped. “Oh, sweet mother of god! You’re not serious?”
“As a heart attack. They want to ask me a million questions, so I’m going to be tied up for awhile. I’m so sorry – I know you probably don’t really want to do this, but can you handle it?”
“Yes, sweetheart, I can. Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ve got it covered.”
“Thanks. I love you, baby. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”
“I love you too. Hang in there.”
“Will do.” Tony hung up and turned back to the huddle of police officers at the site.
Nikki managed to get all of the kids gathered up. On the way, she called Clayton and got a chance to really talk to him. “Are you okay? Son, are you handling this?”
“Yeah, Mom, I’m fine.” His voice was flat, and Nikki knew that seeing the body there had to have been traumatic for him no matter what he said.
“Son, I know you spent more time with her than Annabeth did, even if just because of your age. I know you remember some happy times, and that’s okay. It’s good to remember those. Just promise me if you start having a hard time, you’ll talk to me, or your dad, or Brittany – somebody. Don’t go this alone – please,” she begged him, keeping her fingers crossed.
“I will, Mom, I promise. It was a shock, but I’m kind of relieved.”
Later on, he’ll feel guilty for feeling that way,
Nikki thought.
We need to keep an eye on him.
When they both got to the house and got the three girls there, Annabeth was worked up, sure something was wrong with Tony. Clayton took responsibility for telling her about Dottie. It concerned Nikki that Annabeth showed very little emotion, but she also knew what they’d been through for all those years, and that everyone handles grief differently. All of the kids asked questions Nikki didn’t know how to answer, and she told them Tony would fill them in as soon as he could.
“So who was supposed to be watching this site?” Bryson asked Tony.
“One of my employees. I’m not sure who, but I’ll find out.” Tony made a call and, in ten minutes, his phone rang. When he hung up, he turned to Bryson. “Well, that was Kenny. He said he was here and another employee called him, told him they were supposed to relieve him even though his shift wasn’t over, but they were running late and to go on, they’d be here in a minute. He said it was somebody named Harold, but we don’t have an employee named Harold. So for at least a couple of hours, no one was here – maybe longer than that.”
Bryson nodded. “So somebody sabotaged the security, somebody who knew how to find out who was working and get rid of them.”
A crime scene technician walked up. “There’s no evidence anywhere here, so it looks like this wasn’t the crime scene, just the body dump.”
“Any trace that might suggest where she was killed?” Bryson asked.
“We won’t know until we get into the lab,” the tech told them, walking away.
Another detective, a large African American man, joined Bryson. “Tony, this is Detective Emmett Fox. Detective Fox, Tony Walters.” Tony extended his hand, and Fox briefly shook it.
“Nice to meet you,” Tony said.
“That remains to be seen,” Fox replied, then walked away. Tony scowled after him.
“Sorry about that,” Bryson offered. “They wanted me to partner with somebody who doesn’t know you. Fox is new here, didn’t grow up here. They were afraid I wouldn’t be objective because I’ve known you for so long.”
“I understand that, but why would that matter? I’m not a suspect.” Bryson said nothing, and Tony’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “I’m not a suspect, am I?”
“Well, not right now. But you had a rocky relationship with the victim, so you’re definitely a person of interest.”
“You’re kidding, right? I didn’t kill Dottie!” Tony couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “If I were going to kill the bitch, I would’ve done it years ago. I certainly wouldn’t have let her torture me all these years!”
A voice behind Tony growled, “Tony, shut up. Don’t say another word.” Steve walked up to the men and turned to Bryson. “I’m Steve McCoy, Mr. Walters’ attorney.” Steve turned back to Tony. “We need to talk – now.”
“Excuse us, please.” Tony walked a distance away with Steve. “Okay, what the hell was that about?”
“I got word; they’re looking at you.”
“You’re not serious!” Tony almost yelled.
“Shhhhhh!” Steve sputtered, looking back to see if the detectives were listening. “Yes, I’m very serious. So watch what you say,” Steve whispered forcefully.
“Well, that’s just crazy!”
“Yeah, I know, but that’s the way it is.”
“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Bryson was back. “Tony, we’d like to look at some of your personnel records, schedules, things like that. Could we go back to your office?”
“Sure. I’ll meet you there.” Tony looked at Steve, who nodded and got into his own car to follow.
When they got to the office, it was deserted except for Cheryl. They started into the building, Tony first with everyone else following. A crime scene tech brought up the rear, and he stopped in the doorway.
“Mr. Walters,” Fox said, “I need to let you know up front that we don’t have a search warrant, but we hope you’ll work with us.”
Tony shrugged. “Sure. I don’t have anything to hide.”
“So, where were you on Thursday night?” Fox asked Tony.
“Oh, so you think that’s when she died?” Tony asked.
“Just answer the question, sir,” Fox replied gruffly.
“Well, I was at home until around one thirty. I got a call from my foreman. He said he had to go home because his wife was sick, and I went to the jobsite to stay until the eight o’clock person showed up.”
“Which jobsite was that?”
“The Colufab site, over across town.”
“I see. Was there anyone there when you got there?”
“No. Cal was gone.”
“So you were there the rest of the night by yourself?”
“Yes.”
“So no one saw you arrive?” Fox asked.
Tony’s brow furrowed. “No, guess not.”
“Anyone else see you?”
“Um, I don’t think so. One of Mr. McCoy’s people offered to get me some security, but I told him not to bother. Hey, what’s he doing?” Tony pointed at the tech, who was swabbing at something dark on the frame of the front door. Steve was one unhappy-looking son of a bitch.
Fox got up and walked over, whispered with the tech, and came back. “Mr. Walters, do you have a bathroom with a shower in this office?”
“Yes, matter of fact, I do.” Tony pointed to a door behind his desk. “It’s back there.”
The tech walked past them and into the bathroom. Fox asked Tony, “So, who has keys to this office?”
“Me. Clayton, my son. Cheryl, my secretary. Cal, my foreman. And Vic, my cousin who lives in Lexington.”
“Your girlfriend doesn’t have one?” Fox asked.
“Nope.”
“Isn’t that kind of strange, given that she’s the operations officer?”
“No, it’s not, given that we’ve been the target of terroristic activities lately,” Tony sniped. “I don’t want her here alone at any time for any reason. And if she had a key, I couldn’t ensure that. You don’t know her; she’d get a wild hair and come over here to work by herself. So I haven’t given her a key.”
“And of the people who have keys, who of them would have reason to want Dottie dead?”
“Hell, all of them, truth be known. Except for Cal – he didn’t really know her. But you can forget it. They were all either at home with their spouses or in a completely different town.”
“Except for you,” Fox countered. Bryson frowned.
“Well, I, no, I mean, I wouldn’t do that. Besides, I was at home with Nikki.” Tony didn’t like where this was going, and Steve was growing more agitated by the second.
“Except for the time you spent at the Colufab site,” Fox continued, “where no one saw when you arrived and when you left, or if you were even there.” Tony knew what he was insinuating, and he didn’t like it at all.
The tech stepped back through the doorway and motioned for Fox to come into the bathroom. When he returned, he glared at Tony. “Mr. Walters, the substance on the front door frame is blood. We don’t know whose, but we’ll find out. And there’s something else – someone tried to clean your shower, but there’s blood trace all over it.” The tech walked the path to the front door and sprayed something on the hardwood as he went, then hit it with a light, and blobs of color appeared here and there. “Those spots on the floor? That’s blood trace too.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Tony whispered, shaking his head. “Who would’ve . . .”
Fox walked around behind Tony. “Please place your hands behind your back. Antonio Walters, you’re under arrest for the murder of Dorothea Walters. You have the right to remain silent . . .”
Nikki and Katie managed to get Annabeth calmed down enough to get her to take a nap in Tony and Nikki’s bed. It was the only way she’d settle down; she said being there made her feel close to the two of them, and that was good enough for Nikki. She’d spent the afternoon railing against Dottie, and Nikki assumed it was to protect herself against caring. When she muttered, “Crazy bitch couldn’t even die right,” Nikki knew she’d had enough.
Brittany got her sister to come and stay with Ella Jane and Stringer so she and Clayton could come to the house to be with Annabeth and Katie. Clayton was having a difficult time; he’d seen the body as it lay on the ground, and he was so distressed that Brittany couldn’t get through to him. Nikki made him a cup of hot tea, and he sipped it and started to tear up. Once the silent tears started flowing, he seemed to be able to express himself a little better, and he and Brit sat and talked quietly. Nikki set about making some cookies to try to tempt Annabeth to eat something when she woke. She was pulling one batch out of the oven when the front door opened.
“Nikki?”
“In the kitchen, Peyton.” Nikki started transferring the cookies from the cookie sheet, but something in Peyton’s face stopped her cold. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Come in here and sit down. I need to talk to you.” He went into the den, spoke to Clayton and Brittany, motioned for Nikki to sit, then asked, “Where’s the daughter?”
“Annabeth? I’ll get them,” Nikki said.