Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 #2 (12 page)

“I'm not at liberty to discuss that.”

“Okay, can you discuss any other leads she might have mentioned?”

“She did say back at the house that she's releasing the bomber's sketch to the media in hopes that someone recognizes him.”

Krista shot Cash a terrified look. “They won't release my name in conjunction with that, right?”

He shook his head. “We can't stop the press from speculating, but our team would never reveal any information about you.”

She watched him carefully, her looked filled with skepticism.

“What?” he asked. “You don't believe me?”

She shrugged. “It's all just so unsettling, I don't know what or who to believe anymore.”

Cash could totally relate to that sentiment. He didn't know what to believe, either, but unlike her, he couldn't let it get in the way of his job. If he did, someone could die.

* * *

Cash stood gazing out into the night, his hands shoved into his pockets. Krista wanted to peek at his expression but remained seated on the sofa. Since the discovery of the detonator, a wall of silence had gone up between them. He knew she was withholding something, and her failure to confide in him had clearly disappointed him. Big-time. She wanted to tell him about her past, but for all she knew, Skyler was counting on Krista's guard being down with Cash and her revealing information to him.

Which meant she needed to be even more on guard around him. How was she supposed to do that when he was doing the right thing here? Standing guard. Caring for her and Opa. Following through on his commitment. Everything she hoped for in a man.

He turned and caught her watching him. “You look like you have something to say.”

Did she? Maybe.

She got up. Crossed over to him. “I don't want you to think I'm not grateful for your help.” She smiled sincerely and met his gaze. “This is all so overwhelming. Terrifying, actually, but you... Without you...it would... I—” Stress from the past few days stole her words. Tears pricked her eyes. She tried to blink them back and looked away from his compassionate gaze to get control of her emotions.

“Hey, hey,” he soothed. “Don't you know guys can't handle it when a woman cries?” He quirked a smile.

She tried to return it, but her mouth trembled.

“Aw, c'mon, Krista. Don't cry.” He brushed tears away from her cheek, his touch an instant comfort. “I can't stand to see you so upset.”

He dropped his hand to hers and drew her closer. His eyes riveted to hers. The depth of his concern and caring was unmasked and she could hardly breathe. Her eyes locked on his. She was drawn toward him. Step by step. He lowered his head. His lips descended toward hers. She clutched his shoulder and lifted up on her toes. Prepared herself for the touch of his lips. Something she'd wanted for days, if she was honest about it.

“Liebchen...” Opa's voice came down the hallway. “Could you help me with... Oh, I am interrupting.”

She jerked away from Cash. Took a deep breath. “No, you're not. What did you need?”

“An extra blanket, but I can't reach the top shelf.”

“I'll get it.” She all but ran from the room, charging past a surprised Opa.

She pulled down the fuzzy blanket and hugged it to her chest.

How could she have almost kissed Cash? They were so unsuitable for each other. Both with their own secrets. Both vulnerable and hurting.

She had to watch herself around him. She couldn't ever forget her poor judgment in men. She'd find herself in a world of hurt again. If that wasn't enough reason, these developing feelings for Cash could distract her at a time when clearing her name was more important than ever before.

SIXTEEN

C
ash watched Krista leave the room, his mouth hanging open in surprise. Not for the way she'd bolted, but for his reaction to her. He'd almost kissed her. Dumbest of all moves he could make. A part of him hated himself for wanting to kiss her when he still couldn't believe in her innocence. What kind of man did that make him?

Otto sat on the sofa and patted the seat next to him. “Come sit by me, Cash.”

His mind still reeling, Cash reluctantly joined Otto.

“These feelings you have for my Krista,” Otto said. “Are they serious?”

“What?” Cash's focus transferred to Otto. “That's the last thing I expected you to want to talk about.”

Otto's eyes narrowed in a way Cash hadn't seen before, upping Cash's concern.

“She has been hurt in the past.” Otto met and held Cash's gaze. “Badly. I need to know your intentions are honorable.”

“Intentions.” Cash jumped to his feet.
Intentions?
“I don't think I
have
any intentions.”

“That makes me sad. This is the first time in years that Krista has seemed so interested in a man. I'd hoped when this investigation was over that you two might have something together.” As Otto studied him, Cash felt as if the man could see clear through him. “I think you are the right man for her.”

So much for Otto seeing him well. He was the last man she should risk getting involved with, and he respected Otto too much to let him think otherwise. “I'm not really relationship material right now, Otto.” Cash gave a CliffsNotes version of losing his teammates. “I can't seem to shake it, you know? I've tried everything, but I can't find my way in the world again.”

“The answer is simple, my friend. It is not to try harder on your own but to rely on God to get you through this.”

Cash was disappointed. He'd hoped Otto actually had an answer.
The
answer Cash hadn't found. “I tried the faith thing, Otto. Failed big-time. If I could just get a handle on why God let something like this happen, then maybe I could move on.”

“He does not require us to know why things happen. Just to let Him take control of our lives and trust that He has our best interest at heart.”

“And that's the problem.” Cash dropped back onto the sofa. “I keep waiting for the next big catastrophe to take me down again, and honestly...” He paused to run a hand over the taut muscles in his neck. “I'm on edge most of the time.”

Otto patted Cash's knee. “Ah, see, that is where you are going wrong, son. Living a trouble-free life is impossible. Do not waste time or effort striving for that. It is finding peace in the trouble that you should strive for.”

Peace,
Cash thought. The very thing he was missing in his life. He looked at the old man in wonder. He had stage three cancer, plus this turmoil surrounding Krista, and Cash had never seen Otto lose his peace. “You certainly set a good example. Always in such good spirits.”

“Because I trust God to walk with me and take me through the trouble to the other side. That is where you can see your strength.” Otto poked Cash's chest. “I see that strength in you right now.”

Cash snorted. “Not sure you're looking at the right guy here.”

“I am, son. Remember, no one perfects this. We all fall back into old habits at times. Do not let this uncertainty control your life. Let go. Trust God.”

“Makes a lot of sense.”

“Of course it does. I am a wise old man.” Otto chuckled.

“Trying to pull the wool over Cash's eyes, I see,” Krista said, entering the room. “I put the blanket on your bed, and I'm turning in.”

“I'll walk with you.” Otto got up. “Remember, Cash. I see your strength. You can see it, too.”

“Good night, Otto, and thanks.” Cash felt Krista's curious gaze light on him, but he didn't turn to look. Soon he heard their footsteps heading down the hallway.

He grabbed the sheet and started making up the couch. He'd all but given up on working this problem out in his life, but Otto had given him something to think about. Maybe God could help Cash beat this thing and find the elusive peace. He settled into his makeshift bed and slept better than he had in a while. He woke with renewed optimism and even whistled as he showered, dressed and then folded his bedding.

“Someone is cheerful this morning.” Otto stepped into the family room with Krista.

“I'm trying to channel you, Otto.” Cash winked.

Krista nodded at the table. “What's in that coffee Opa gave you?”

“This is my secret, Liebchen.” Otto chuckled.

Cash didn't let the good mood distract him from keeping a vigilant watch during the drive to Erwin's house to drop Otto off or on the way to the school. Despite needing to take care, he found himself smiling most of the morning. But when the News Channel Four van and Paul Parsons pulled up to the school building, unease took his smile.

Please let this be nothing,
Cash prayed as he went to meet Parsons. The sun had given way to clouds and a steady drizzle, perfect weather to have a talk with Parsons. He started to open his door, but Cash stopped him. Parsons lowered the window.

Cash lifted the collar of his jacket for warmth. “What can we do for you, Parsons?”

“I'm not here to see you. I want to talk to—”

“Krista's with her class right now,” Cash interrupted. “And there's no way you'll get past me to talk to her.”

Parsons narrowed his eyes. “I'll just come back later. Or stop by her house.”

Cash widened his stance. “I'll be there then, too.”

“Why not ask
him
about it?” the van driver suggested. “See what he thinks.”

Parsons's eyes lit up. “A deputy's perspective on the latest development. I like it.”

“No comment.”

“I didn't even ask you anything.”

“No comment,” Cash said again, this time firing a stern glare at Parsons.

“So I guess that means you're okay with the fact that your primary witness to the bombing is wanted for murder.”

“What?”

“Oh, wow.” Parsons grinned. “You didn't know. This is priceless.” Parsons swung his gaze to the driver. “Roll film.”

“You do that and you'll be pulling that camera from out of your throat.”

“Fine,” Parsons said. “But you do want to know what I'm talking about, right?”

“Go ahead.” Cash's words were as close as he would come to asking this guy for anything.

Parsons looked far too eager to tell his story for Cash's liking. “The night of the bombing something seemed familiar to me about Ms. Curry. I rarely forget a face so I did a little digging. Took me a while to track it down, but I finally figured it out and found all I need to know about her from our archives.” He paused and his eyes lit up. “Her real name is Krista Alger. Married to a Toby Alger, who wound up dead after committing one of the biggest senior scams in the country. Portland Police Bureau detectives discovered a half-million dollars in her joint account with hubby had gone missing. They could never prove she killed her husband or took the money, but the money's never been recovered, and her name was never cleared of the missing money or her hubby's death.”

Cash's peace evaporated in a flash and he took a stunned step back. Krista was suspected of killing her husband. That was bad. Really bad, but worse yet, she hadn't told Cash about it. He thought they'd reached a point where she would share something this major with him, but she hadn't.

Realization dawned, and he took another step back, his mind reeling. This was her secret.
The
secret. The big one that she wouldn't tell anyone. And boy howdy, he could see why she wouldn't. If she had been involved in scamming seniors, she could have criminal connections that would make her involvement with the bomber seem less outrageous.

Question was, what else was she hiding?

* * *

Cash spotted the PPB detective investigating Toby Alger's death the minute he stepped in the coffee shop door for their meeting. Cops just had that look about them that you could peg a mile away, and Detective Eason was no exception. As Eason lowered his stout body into a chair, Cash made quick work of introductions. This conversation couldn't wait, but the sooner he could push through it, the sooner he could get back to the school and relieve Brady, who was standing watch over Krista.

“Tell me about the investigation,” Cash said. “Specifically Krista Cu—Alger's role in it.”

Eason took a long sip of his coffee, then rested his elbows on the table. “One morning Toby Alger doesn't wake up. Wife calls it in. At first, it looked like he died from natural causes. The ME suspected a heart attack, but then she gets Alger's tox screen back.” He paused as if hoping to create drama.

“And?” Cash pushed him along.

“And she finds GHB and Valium in his system. The cause of death, actually. The combination suppressed his breathing. He had a prescription for the Valium, but the wife claims she didn't know he was taking it.”

“Seems odd,” Cash said. “A wife usually knows about any drugs her husband is taking.”

“Our thoughts exactly,” Eason said and leaned back. “Of course, she claims not to know about the GHB, either. We begin to think she might've poisoned her husband, so we start digging for motive. We discover Alger masterminded a cleverly disguised Ponzi scheme. He'd scammed hard-earned savings from the elderly, leaving many of them penniless.”

Cash tried to imagine Krista with a man who'd bilk seniors and couldn't reconcile that vision with the woman he was coming to know. Of course, he didn't know everything about her, now, did he?

“What was Krista's role in all of this?” Cash dreaded the answer but forced himself to keep his focus on Eason.

“Wait until you hear this,” Eason said excitedly. “We found Alger's bank statement for a joint account that once held half a mil, but the money was moved electronically just two days before Alger's death.” Eason draped an arm across a chair. “And that, my friend, is what we homicide detectives call a red flag. A big honkin' red flag.”

Cash wasn't going to encourage Eason's obvious arrogance with a comment. “Did you figure out where the money went?”

“Nope, and not for lack of trying. The electronic transmission originated at the Alger house.”

“And you think Krista moved it? Why not Alger himself?”

“Makes sense that she did it. Then hubby found out and demanded it back. Maybe threatened to kill her, so she took care of him before he did her in.”

Cash could barely stomach the thought. “What about an alibi? Did Krista have one?”

“She was at home at his time of death so no alibi there.”

“Doesn't mean she poisoned him. He could've gotten the drug anywhere and come home before it kicked in.”

“You're right. We never did find out how he ingested the drugs.”

“What about an alibi for when the money transfer occurred?”

“She has a witness who places her at the movies at that time.”

“But you don't buy it?”

Eason shrugged.

“Why not?”

“For that kind of money, she could easily have given someone a key to her house to make the transfer while she sat at the theater. Maybe pay the same person to score the drugs to kill the husband.”

Or she'd been exactly where she'd said—at the theater. “Did you find any evidence of that or any other suspects at all?”

“Of course, we had the whole group of people Alger scammed, who had motive to kill him. Not that a group of seniors is real likely to commit murder or even know about GHB, but still, we worked the list. Investigated them and their children, leaving no stone unturned. You know, in case the kid's expecting to inherit a wad from the parents or they're just upset their parents had been scammed out of hard-earned money. Maybe leaving their parents' care up to them now.”

“And?”

“Found a couple of possibilities, but we never really located anyone with means and opportunity. So the wife continued to sit at the top of our list. Didn't help that she took off.” He frowned. “We had nothing to hold her on, but she just ups and disappears. Now we find out she's been living under an assumed name. The one she used while on the run with her killer daddy. Makes her look guilty in my book.”

“Wait, what are you talking about with this killer-daddy thing?” Cash tried to hold the surprise from his tone but didn't manage it.

“Oh, you didn't know, huh?” Eason picked up his cup again and sipped. “Her father ran a chop shop. His partner tries to squeeze him out, and he kills the partner. We question the dad. He takes off. She goes with dear old dad and they skate under the radar in Georgia for quite a few years until the guy's father-in-law rats him out. Probably where the daughter learned her disappearing skills. Like father, like daughter.” He smirked.

Cash wanted to wipe the look off Eason's face.

Eason set down his cup. “Put all that together, and in my book, it says guilty.”

Not in Cash's book. Evidence and evidence alone declared someone's guilt.

Evidence like a detonator,
his mind warned him. Was he listening to his heart again?

Not regarding the missing money and Toby Alger's murder. Eason clearly had no solid evidence. Without it, it was a detective's job to keep an open mind. If this guy had treated Krista the way Cash suspected he had, no wonder she ran.

“So she remains the only suspect?” Cash asked, hoping to wind up this conversation and talk to Krista about it.

“Actually, we have another lead, but that's not something I'm willing to discuss. This is still an ongoing investigation. We don't want anything leaked.”

“I'm not planning on sharing it.”

“Sorry, man.” Eason crossed his arms. “It's on a need-to-know basis. Without an official request, my LT would kill me for disclosing it. Besides, it'll likely lead back to Krista Alger anyway. With this bombing, she's proving her criminal intents.”