The Lawman's Legacy (Love Inspired Suspense) (8 page)

Out of the vehicle.

Across the parking lot.

Into the small brick building.

Down a narrow hall.

Step by step by step closer to a place she didn’t want to be.

“Relax. I’m not taking you to the gallows.” Douglas smiled, his face transformed from hard and tough to warm and approachable.

“Then why does it feel like you are?”

“That’s a question you’ll have to answer yourself. The way I see it, an innocent person has no reason to fear the police.” He opened the door to a small office, gestured her inside.

At least it wasn’t an interrogation room like she’d seen on TV. No mirrored wall. No stark lights. Just a wood desk and two leather chairs. A bookshelf sat against one wall, file cabinets on either side of it.

“Go ahead and have seat. I need to get the fingerprint kit.”

“No need. I already have it.” A short dark-haired woman bustled into the room, her gaze resting on Merry for a moment before she turned to Douglas.

“You’re always a step ahead of me, Vera.” He took the large envelope she offered him.

“That’s why I get paid the big bucks, Captain.”

“You know I hate when you call me Captain, so cut it out.”

“Just trying to be respectful.” She flashed a smile in Merry’s direction, her curiosity obvious.

“Douglas?” Owen Fitzgerald appeared in the doorway, his hair mused, his tie hanging loose.

“What’s up?”

“Sorry to interrupt, but Charles arrived a few minutes ago. We’re following up on the interview we conducted yesterday. I thought you might like to be there.”

Say yes. Please, say yes.

As long as Douglas was busy interviewing his brother, he couldn’t take Merry’s prints.

Which meant, she could go home, pack her bags, leave town before her fingerprints were ever taken.

“I’ll be right there.”

Yes!

“You don’t mind waiting, do you, Merry?”

Wait?

It hadn’t even occurred to her.

“Tyler—”

“Is fine. We already decided that, remember?” he said gently, as he helped her out of her coat, hung it on the back of a chair he pulled out for her. Everything smooth and easy and practiced.

Of course.

He’d dated every woman in Fitzgerald Bay.

Or, so the gossip mill said.

He’d know how to help a woman out of her coat, make her feel like waiting for him was the best thing she could do with her time.

Only Merry wasn’t waiting for him. She was waiting to be fingerprinted. Something she most definitely did
not
want to do.

“But—”

“I shouldn’t be long.” He walked out of the room before she could respond.

She stood, grabbed her coat.

“You’re not leaving?” Vera asked, and Merry froze.

“I have a son—”

“Keira is with him, right?”

“Yes.”

“So, he’s fine. You just sit yourself back down and wait.” Vera hovered near the door, a frown creasing her smooth brow.

“I will. I just need to get some fresh air.” The lie tasted like sawdust, and Merry nearly choked on it.

“You know what I think?” Vera’s frown deepened, her dark eyes flashing.

“What?”

“You’re pale as a ghost. Have you eaten today?”

“I—”

“You haven’t. I know these kinds of things. We’ll have to do something about it. We can’t have you passing out on the premises. Bad press, and we already have enough of that.”

“Bad press because of the murder?”

“Because Charles Fitzgerald hasn’t been arrested yet.” She spoke quietly, her gaze darting to the hallway.

“Why would he be?”

“Who is the prime suspect in a woman’s murder? The husband, boyfriend, lover.”

“Charles wasn’t any of those things to Olivia.”

“You know that, and I know that, but not everyone wants to believe it. I’m going to find you something to eat. You want coffee, too?”

“I—”

“Maybe hot tea instead. With plenty of sugar. You really are pale, and the press will be on us like white on rice if an ambulance shows up and carts someone away.” Vera hurried into the hall.

Leave while you can.

The words shouted through Merry’s mind, but she couldn’t make herself move, not with Vera’s words still ringing in the air.

Charles Fitzgerald the prime suspect in Olivia’s murder?

No way.

He had nothing to do with it.

Merry didn’t know much about Olivia, but she knew the young woman had respected and admired her employer. There’d been nothing untoward going on. Nothing ugly or wrong in their relationship.

How could Merry leave town without making sure people knew that?

How could she stay without risking everything?

“What do I do, Lord?” she whispered the prayer out loud, but only silence answered.

No spark of inspiration.

No clear direction.

Just minutes passing by in silence as she settled back into the chair and waited for Douglas to return.

EIGHT

C
harles needed a better alibi. It was as simple as that.

Douglas raked a hand down his jaw and listened to his brother outline his movements from early in the morning the day before Olivia’s murder until early in the morning the following day.

Olivia had been killed between midnight and four.

The coroner was positive of that.

Charles was positive
he’d
been in bed sound asleep during the time in question.

Douglas believed him.

He just hoped the town would.

“Are you sure about the timeline you’ve given?” Douglas asked the same question he’d been asking since he’d seen Olivia’s body.

“I’m sure. I made a house call around six, got home at eight. The twins were already asleep. Olivia went to her apartment. That’s the last time I saw her.” Charles ran a hand over his hair, the scars on his right arm peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his shirt. War wounds from his time in the marines, they were a reminder of just how close Douglas had come to losing him.

He hadn’t lost him to the war.

No way would he lose him to the prison system.

He met Owen’s eyes. Knew his younger brother was thinking the same thing.

“You didn’t hear a car? Didn’t wake up for any reason?”

“I wish I
had
heard something. I would have checked things out, and maybe I could have saved her. But the night wasn’t any different than any other. I still can’t believe she’s dead.” Charles rubbed the bridge of his nose, the dark shadows beneath his eyes speaking of a sleepless night.

“We’ll find her murderer.” Douglas patted Charles’s shoulder.

“I have no doubt about that, but that won’t bring her back. She was way too young to die, and so brutally…” Charles shook his head, his words echoing the feelings and thoughts of the entire Fitzgerald clan.

“We’ll find her murderer,” Douglas repeated, because it was all he had to offer.

“Have you been able to reach the next of kin?” Charles asked, and Owen shook his head.

“I left a message for Olivia’s cousin to call. Hopefully, she’ll get back with me soon. If not, I’ll call again before the end of the day.”

“How about the coroner? Has he been able to offer anything besides the time of death?”

“I thought we were the ones conducting the interview, Charles,” Douglas said, and Charles offered a quick smile.

“Sorry. I’m not good at sitting back and letting other people handle things.”

“This time, you’re going to have to. I’ll check in with you later. Merry O’Leary is waiting to be interviewed and fingerprinted. I don’t want to keep her waiting much longer.” And, he wasn’t sure she
would
wait.

He had a feeling she’d run if she could.

Not just from the police station.

From Fitzgerald Bay.

If he didn’t know better, he’d think she’d had something to do with Olivia’s death, but she’d been home the night of the murder. He’d talked to her neighbors and her landlady, Ida Sanderson, who lived in the Victorian next door to Merry’s place. A neighbor had returned home at one o’clock and seen Merry’s station wagon parked in her driveway. Another had left for a hospital shift at three and reported the same. Ida had seen Merry’s lights on at midnight. No one on the street had heard the station wagon’s loud distinctive engine.

He had to admit, he was relieved. Whatever Merry was hiding, it wasn’t her guilt.

He grabbed a file folder from Owen’s desk and carried it to his office. Someone had closed the door, and he opened it, half expecting Merry to be gone.

She wasn’t.

Head down on the desk, an arm beneath her cheek, she seemed to be sleeping soundly.

“Merry?” He touched her shoulder, and she came up swinging, her eyes blank with fear.

“Hey, calm down. It’s just me. Douglas.”

Her arm fell to her side, and her cheeks blazed with color. “Sorry. I forgot where I was for a minute.”

“Yeah? Where exactly did you think you were?”

“B—” she started to say. Stopped. “I guess I was just having a nightmare.”

“Must have been pretty intense.”

“I don’t remember much about it.” She backed away, nearly falling over the chair, and he grabbed her arm, felt tense muscles and warm flesh beneath her long-sleeved T-shirt.

His fingers tightened of their own accord, heat shooting up his arm and straight into his heart.

Merry’s blush deepened as she stared into his eyes. She felt it, too. The connection. The attraction. He’d seen it in her eyes when they’d had lunch together.
Still
saw it in her eyes. He was sure of that. He just wasn’t sure what either of them wanted to do about it.

He released his hold, forced himself to step back. “Better watch it. If you break your leg, I’ll have to take you to the hospital instead of home.”

“You’re taking me home?”

“Eventually.”

“Oh.” She looked so disappointed, he almost smiled.

“I still need to get your fingerprints, and I still need to ask you a few questions.” He gestured for her to sit, then took the seat across from her.

“I’ve been here too long. Tyler is probably getting worried.”

“
He’s
getting worried, or you are?”

“I am. I don’t like leaving him with people he doesn’t know well.”

“He didn’t know Ida Sanderson the first time you left him with her.”

“I know. It’s just…”

“What?”

“Nothing. You said you had more questions for me?”

“Fingerprints first.”

It didn’t take long. Ten minutes tops. But Merry seemed to grow tenser with every passing second, her fingers taut as he maneuvered them, her face pale.

“Is there some reason why you’d rather not have your fingerprints taken?” Douglas asked casually as he handed her a wet wipe to clean her hands.

“No.”

“Is there ever going to be a point when you decide you can trust me with the truth?”

She took one deep breath. Another. Finally, she tossed the wet wipe into the trash can and met his eyes. “I really do need to get home, Douglas.”

He wanted to keep pushing, demand an answer, but she was right. She had to get home. And,
he
had to find a killer. “Have you ever seen this?” He pulled a photo from the file folder, slid it across the table.

“It’s a dolphin charm,” she said, lifting the photo, studying it.

“That’s right.”

“It doesn’t look familiar.”

“So, you don’t recall Olivia owning a charm bracelet or necklace that might have had a silver dolphin charm on it?”

“No. Why? Was it found…with her?”

“At the scene, but we’re going to keep that quiet for a while. Okay?”

“Sure.” She looked at the photo for another minute, then slid it back to him. “Olivia had a ring that she inherited from her mother. She wore that a lot, but I’m sure she never wore a charm bracelet. At least not when we were around each other.”

Nothing helpful there. Her answer was the same as the one Charles had given. When it came to Olivia Henry it seemed there were more questions than answers. She’d been in town for three months, but no one seemed to know what had brought her to Fitzgerald Bay or why she’d stayed.

Funny, no one seemed to know that about Merry, either.

“What brought
you
to Fitzgerald Bay, Merry?” he asked, expecting her to balk or evade the way she did every time he asked a personal question.

Instead, she shrugged, smiled. “My parents brought me here when I was a kid. I loved it, and I wanted to share the experience with Tyler. We came for a visit, but it’s such a wonderful town, I decided to stay.”

The answer rolled off her tongue as if she’d rehearsed it a hundred times.

“Just like that, you decided to move?”

“Not really. I was laid off from my previous job as a teacher, and it seemed as good a time as any to start fresh in a new town with a new job.”

“So, you’re a teacher?”

“
Was
a teacher. Now, I lead story time at your sister’s book store.” Her smile tightened, but she continued to answer, and Douglas wondered how far he could push before she pushed back.

“Where did you teach?”

“I thought you wanted to ask me questions about Olivia?”

“I did. Now, I want to ask some questions about you.”

“And
I
want to go home. Unless you have a reason to keep me here, that’s what I’m going to do.” She stood, and he knew he’d found the place where his pushing ended and hers began.

Not far.

Not far at all.

He grabbed her hand before she could walk out the door, tugging her to a stop. “You can’t run away forever, Merry.”

“Who says I’m running?”

“Aren’t you?”

“No.”

“Then, why not tell me where you’re from? Why not explain how you really ended up in Fitzgerald Bay.”

“I—”

“You know I can run a background check, right? It won’t take long to find out everything there is to know about you. Where you were born, who your parents were, whether or not there’s some deep dark reason why you’re trying to hide your past.”

She paled but didn’t respond.

“That’s the hard way for both of us. The easy way is for you to tell me everything. All the stuff that you’re so determined to keep hidden. Whatever it is, I’ll help you deal with it.” He eased his grip, his fingers skimming along the tender flesh of her inner wrist as he released her.

She studied his face, her eyes dark and moist with tears. “Maybe—”

“Douglas! We’ve got trouble.” Owen ran into the office, and whatever Merry had planned to say, whatever secrets she might have revealed were lost.

“What kind of trouble?”

“There’s been a shooting.”

“Where?”

“Merry’s place. Keira just called it in.”

“Tyler!” Merry shoved passed Owen, ran into the hall.

“Running off half-cocked and getting yourself killed isn’t going to help your son.” Douglas snagged the back of her shirt, and she whirled around, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Standing here isn’t going to help him, either.” She tried to pull away, but he grabbed her shoulders.

“Then, sit. I’ll call you as soon as we finish at your place.”

“I’m not going to
sit
when my son could be injured. Maybe even—”

“Tyler is fine,” Owen said, and Merry turned the full force of her dark brown gaze on him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. The shooter fired a couple shots from the street. Took out one of the windows, but no one was hurt.”

“Thank God.” Her creamy skin had gone parchment pale, her freckles standing out in stark contrast against the pallor.

“You’re not going to pass out on me, are you?” Douglas asked, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She managed to shake her head.

“Go back in my office and wait. I’ll come for you as soon as we’re finished at the scene.”

“The
scene
is my house. One of the intended victims is my son. I’m not waiting anywhere.” She followed him out into bright sunlight and frigid air.

“We don’t know that anyone was an intended victim. The shooting might have been a scare tactic.”

“If it was, it worked. I’m scared.” She climbed into the SUV, and he didn’t waste energy insisting she stay behind.

If it were his son, he’d do anything to get to him.

The drive took less than five minutes, and Douglas pulled into Merry’s driveway, adrenaline pumping as he eyed the shattered glass in the front window. If someone had been standing there, the gunshot could have been deadly.

Thank the Lord Keira and Tyler hadn’t been injured.

Or worse.

Several neighbors huddled on the sidewalk, and Ida Sanderson stood on the porch talking to Owen.

Probably not just talking.

Ida had a strong will and a reputation for getting what she wanted. More than likely, she wanted to go in the house. A reasonable request since the Cape Cod had been in her family for generations. Now, though, it was a crime scene, and she’d have to stay out until Owen and Douglas were finished gathering evidence.

Merry was exiting the SUV and racing across the yard before Douglas put the vehicle in Park. He followed, jogging up the porch steps, Ida’s voice following him into the foyer.

She was definitely on a rant, her strident demand to be allowed inside the house carrying on the frigid air. She wouldn’t get her way.

Keira was waiting for him. “Where is Tyler?”

“Upstairs in the back bedroom. I figured that was the safest place for him. Merry just went up.”