One Chance: A Thrilling Christian Fiction Mystery Romance (13 page)

"Anthony! He's coming out!" Penelope grabbed for Findley and got hold of one ankle. The guy kicked at her, but it was a bad angle and there was no force behind it.

She heard Anthony yelling from outside. "Drop the weapon drop the weapon!"

"Okay!" Findley stopped struggling. "You got me. You got me! I give up!"

Somehow Penelope didn't believe him. "Anthony? You got handcuffs out there?"

"Yes!" he called back.

"Cuff him from behind. I'm not letting go until you've got him locked down."

"Got it," he said. She heard him giving Findley directions about where to put his hands.

And then Anthony cried out and swore loudly.

Penelope was about to ask him what was wrong when Findley reversed direction and started climbing back in at her. Penelope pulled, thinking to secure the leg she had a hold of and put a restraint on Findley. When the man came in through the window, though, he had a folding knife in his hand and he slashed it at Penelope.

Training kicked in again. With a twist and a roll she ended up with Findley underneath her, sitting on the man's leg with an ankle-lock in place. She twisted a centimeter more and heard Findley cry out in pain.

"Drop the knife! Now!" Penelope hollered at the top of her voice. She heard the weapon clatter to the floor. "You done now?" she asked.

Findley whimpered and managed to whisper a "yes."

"Good. Anthony?" She yelled louder. "Anthony? You okay?"

She heard him come in through the front door in a rush, running down the hall. When he stepped into the room he was holding his hand against his left shoulder. He took in the scene before him, with Penelope holding Findley down, and then immediately brought out his cuffs, kneeling down to secure Findley's hands behind his back. It was then that Penelope saw the slice through his brown uniform shirt and the red that stained the edges of the cut.

"You're hurt," she said.

"Duh, Deputy Obvious. It's not bad. He surprised me, is all." He stood up when he was done. "Gonna be a nice scar though, I think. Coulda been worse. I guess someone was watching out for us, huh?"

"Well done, Officer," Penelope said. Saying a silent thank-you to the Lord for protecting them, she finally letting go of Findley's foot and dragged him up into a sitting position, then up onto his feet. "You've got a lot to answer for, Findley."

"I didn't kill my girlfriend," the man said immediately, turning an angry glare on Penelope.

Anthony traded a glance with him. "Well, Camille's death was one of the things I was going to ask you about. Funny how you knew that before I said anything."

Findley's smile was cold and angry. "I know what's going on, don't think I don't. You and Doug are friends, and you want to put this on me. But I'm telling you right now, wasn't me."

"Then who, seeing as how you're being so friendly all of a sudden," Anthony asked him, pressing a hand to his shoulder again.

"Doug Foster killed my girlfriend. His ex-wife. Mother of his child. He did it." Findley smiled even wider, like he had just won some game.

Penelope looked at Anthony, but his face was unreadable. They had caught Michael Findley. But was it going to help Doug, or hurt him?

CHAPTER 23

Deputy Saunders responded to Jacob's house to pick up Findley in a cruiser. Back at the station, Sheriff Jackson was there to meet them.

"That him?" the Sheriff asked Penelope.

"Yes, sir. Michael Findley. In the flesh." Anthony got out of the passenger seat of her Jetta, wincing a bit as he held his arm. "Get yourself over to the clinic, Anthony. Have Jacob look at that arm."

He regarded her for a moment, then turned without a word and went to the other cruiser.

"What happened?" the Sheriff asked as Anthony was driving away.

"Findley cut him with a knife while we were arresting him." Penelope suddenly realized how tired she was. This weekend had been the longest in her life. Jim Saunders brought Findley out of the back of his car and took him up the stairs into the station. That would be next on Penelope's list of things to do, interviewing that guy.

The Sheriff nodded, frowning. "So Findley was in town. That sort of supports Doug's story. At least it agrees with the witness statements. That must make you happy, Penelope."

"I'd be happy about it if he'd confess. I don't know, sir. There's something going on here that I'm missing. I just can't figure out what."

The Sheriff laid a hand on her shoulder. "I've got faith in you, Penelope."

"And I've got faith in God, so it should work out, right?" Penelope walked next to the Sheriff as they went inside behind Jim.

"Everything always works out. Just not the way we expect," the Sheriff said.

Penelope knew the truth of that. But she was still hopeful for a particular outcome. One where Doug was found to be innocent and the real bad guy would go to jail for a very, very long time.

She didn't like to think about what would happen if things went the other way.

But, her next step to finding the truth would be to interrogate Findley. The Sheriff went to his office to call over to Gainesville and let them know Findley was in their custody here. Penelope went to the other part of the building where the interview room was. The same place that she had been talking with Doug, just yesterday.

Jim was there, watching over Findley through the two-way mirror. The Deputy yawned, his handle-bar mustache stretching out with his face.

"You should go home and get some sleep," Penelope said to him. "I know there's a lot going on and it's all hands on deck, but you do know that you can't live here, don't you?"

"You're one to talk," Jim said with a grin and rubbed at his eyes. "Sheriff told me I could work as many hours as I can handle. Gonna need the money soon. Anna and I just found out we're going to have another baby."

Penelope did a double-take. Jim and his wife already had the one child, and after a very hard labor, the doctors over in Gainesville told her that she might never conceive again. She hadn't even known they had been trying. "Congratulations, Jim!" she said. "That's great news."

"I'd like a boy this time," Saunders said, "but honestly, so long as the baby's healthy, I'll be a happy dad."

Penelope shook Jim's hand, honestly happy for him. Another happy couple with their children. Earlier, when Donny Greene had asked when she and Jacob would have kids, she had kind of laughed the question off. She remembered growing up without a family, and when she was being honest with herself she knew she was scared she might visit that trouble on her own children someday. But watching Doug with Trevor, and now Jim as an expectant father again, Penelope knew in her heart that the decision she had made with Jacob to start a family once they were married was the right choice to make.

"Are you going to stay and watch this?" she asked Jim, motioning to the interview room and it's one occupant, handcuffed to the chair on both sides.

"Yup. Can't wait to see how this turns out."

"Okay. Here we go, then."

Penelope entered the room with her notepad and pen. This time she made sure to flick the switch on the outside of the room first, turning on the surveillance camera. She needed this one recorded.

She sat down across from Findley at the metal table. The man's hands were both handcuffed to an arm of the chair, and the chair was bolted to the floor. She was in no danger from him. She wrote a heading for her notes, noted the time and jotted it down, and with a deep breath she started.

"You and I have to have a talk now, Findley. But I have to read you your Miranda warnings first. You understand that?"

"I didn't kill Camille, Deputy. You've got no reason to hold me. None." Findley smiled at her in that same aggravating way he had back at Jacob's house.

"I've got no reason to hold you? Seriously?" Penelope leaned back in her chair, letting herself get a little off track. "How about committing a burglary, in violation of section ten-point-oh-two of the Florida criminal statute. What about aggravated battery upon a police officer, in violation of section seven-eighty-four-point-oh-seven? Oh, and then there's that small matter of the state of California wanting you for armed robbery. And for questioning in a murder case," she added pointedly. "I think I've got plenty of reason to hold you. What I don't have, is some explanation for how your girlfriend got dead."

Findley sat back now, too, glaring at Penelope, his eyes narrowed over that broken and crooked nose.

"So, like I said. I need to read you your Miranda warnings. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be used against you in court. You have the right to talk to a lawyer before answering any of my questions. If you cannot afford to hire a lawyer, one will be appointed for you without cost and before any questioning. And, you have the right to use any of these rights at any time you want during this interview." She looked up from her card when she was done. "Do you understand each of these rights as I have read them to you?"

"Sure," Findley snarled.

"Good. See, we're getting along great already."

"I didn't kill her."

"Does that mean you want to talk to me, Mister Findley?" Penelope was trying to get under the guy's skin, trying to make him mad, hoping that something would trip up.

"I'm talking to you now, ain't I?" Findley said. "And that's what I have to say. I didn't kill her."

"Where were you when it happened?" Penelope asked, writing down his time of Miranda and Findley's consent to talk.

"I was already over here in Franklin."

Penelope wrote out more notes, nodding, listening.

"Yeah, I was already here, in Franklin," Findley continued on. "That was Friday night. I was following Doug around town."

"And why was that?" Penelope asked.

"Because Camille said she was going to leave me and go back to him. I wanted to see what kind of a guy he was."

"Well, you know, that fits in with what we know already. We have witnesses from The Pizza Palace who saw you in there at the same time as Doug. And they did say you were watching him."

Findley smiled again, that smile that said he was winning, even though there wasn't any game being played. At least not one that Penelope was aware of. "See? There you go. I was right here the whole day."

"Can anyone confirm you were here before supper time?" Penelope asked.

"What?"

Penelope stopped writing and looked up at the man across from him. "You said you were here the whole day. Can anyone," she said again, slowly, "confirm you were in town before supper time? The people at The Pizza Palace saw you there at the same time as Doug. Okay, fine. What about before that?"

Findley shrugged. "I don't know. Ask around. That's your job."

"Good idea. I'll do that." Penelope wrote some more. "And after The Pizza Palace? Where did you go?"

"I kept following Doug. That man was about to ruin my relationship with a great woman who I loved dearly and I wanted to see what he was up to."

Penelope wrote that down exactly as Findley had said it, but she also made a note that the words sounded practiced, like they were being recited from memory. "So you followed Doug from The Pizza Palace. Then what?"

"He went to this little bar called Ricky's Pub."

Penelope couldn't believe what she was hearing. So far, Findley was corroborating Doug story.

"He went in for like a minute and then left again," Findley continued.

Penelope's heart sank.

"So what did he do, then, if he didn't stay there?"

Findley shook his hands in the cuffs, making them rattle against the metal arms of the chair. Penelope noticed the skull and crossbones tattoo on the back of his hand, the same one the witnesses had seen. She noticed, too, that the man's knuckles were all scraped up. She was writing a note down about that fact when Findley rattled his cuffs again. "Can we get these off, maybe?" he asked.

"No," Penelope said flatly. "What did you see Doug do then, Mister Findley?"

"I saw Doug drive away in that truck of his. You know, the big blue one with the flames painted on the sides? And he didn't come back for about an hour."

An hour
, Penelope thought to herself.
If Camille was murdered Friday night, that was more than enough time to for Doug to get to Gainesville and back. But what about Trevor? How did he get here? Did Doug bring him back to his house and leave him there Friday night? Maybe that's why Trevor was lost...
Too many questions. Things still weren't adding up. Penelope focused her thoughts and continued. "Did you follow him to see where he went?"

But Findley shook his head. "Nope. Stayed there. He came back after about an hour, like I said. Truck all beat up like he'd run into something."

Penelope stopped cold. Truck all beat up. Like it had run into something. Or, someone.

This wasn't helping Doug. If anything, it was putting more nails into his coffin.

"Then," Findley continued, "he left and I followed him to some dive called the Last Chance Tavern."

"And what did you do then?"

"I drove off and left him there. The guy's a drunk. I knew what kind of man he was then. Scum. Lowlife. He didn't deserve Camille and there was no way she'd ever leave me for a guy like that."

"You mean, you being such an upstanding citizen and all," Penelope said sarcastically.

"Hey, I did some crimes, sure. But I always treated Camille right. She had nothing to fear from me."

"Before she decided to leave you for Doug, you mean." Penelope figured that gave Findley a good motive. But if Findley were here, in town, when the murder happened, then that kind of left one person on the hook.

Doug.

Findley didn't say anything else, just sat there, smiling.

"So, where did you go then?" Penelope asked, still writing notes.

"I went and broke into the doctor's house. Needed a place to stay. Decided to stay the weekend. No one's ever there. I wanted to give Camille some time to cool off before I went home. Didn't know she was dead. Be glad it was the doctor's house, Deputy. It could have been yours."