The Witness (6 page)

“The premise of it is your being dead—that doesn’t sit well.”

“I appreciate the vote of support.”

She’d been dealing with this on her own for years, and that convinced him more than ever that he was still missing some significant facts. She had to be balancing something else in her decision making to conclude that dealing with this alone was the only answer up to this point. How had the man she dated died? It wasn’t such an easy topic to probe. “Why me? Why not make arrangements to send the letter to the cop you’ve been passing information to?”

“He’s had a few years to think about twenty million.” She closed her suitcase. “Think about the offer.”

“You’re already regretting having made it,” he replied, knowing it was true.

She looked up in surprise, holding his gaze. “Yes, some. You have a good quiet life here, and I know better than you what it would mean if you got such a letter.” She slipped on her jacket. “I’m going to go rent a car, then buy a used one, and come back here for my things. You’ll do me the favor of not watching that happen or noting down the details on the car.”

He felt like he was losing something—a chance, maybe, to put things right for her. This wasn’t the way it should be ending tonight. “We’ll say good-bye here,” he agreed, not wanting it, but understanding it. His forty-eight hours were closing, and she was moving on.

She stopped in front of him. “Thank you.”

“Where are you going next?”

“Does it matter? West probably.”

It mattered terribly, but he couldn’t find the words to explain that. “You’ve got a new ID, a way to safely settle again?”

“It’s available with a call. I’ll make that contact from a state or two away from here.”

“If I need you for any reason, I’m running an ad for Ann Walsh in the
New York Times
Sunday classifieds. You’ll get in touch.”

“I can do that.” She rested her hand flat on his chest. “It’s important, Luke, the job you do. But this town needs you more than I do. Don’t be a hero just because you can be.”

“I’m an old cop for a reason, Amy. I know my limits and how to evaluate a risk.” She would be worth all those risks, if she’d trust him enough to let him help. But he knew he wouldn’t be convincing her to stay, and he didn’t try to fight a battle he knew he had already lost.

She stepped back with a nod. “Then I won’t worry about you.”

“Write that letter. And if you ever need my help or you just want to talk—” he scrawled two private numbers on his business card—“call me.”

She didn’t say yes; she didn’t say no, but she did put his card into her pocket. “Thanks, Luke.” She picked up the newspaper. “Give me five minutes before you leave, please.”

He nodded and she was gone.

Chapter Four

“CHIEF.”

Luke Granger looked up from his call sheet to see Connor Black, one of his lead detectives in homicide, standing in the doorway to his office. Three years as the chief of police hadn’t made the days different: they still started with the officers who worked the cases no one wanted in their days. “Come on in, Connor. How’s the vacation going?”

“Too short, but I felt the need to stop in and see the state of my in-box. I got your message.”

Luke smiled. “One of the problems with being too curious about what is waiting for you on your return. Marsh isn’t due back for another couple days yet?”

“Monday, he said. He was taking his girlfriend skiing.”

“Then I’ll let you have first pass at this.” Luke searched his desk and handed over a thick file. “Résumés, to find us a replacement for St. James. I want your top five prospects and one recommendation after you do the interviews. If you don’t see a fit in that group, ask personnel to throw a larger net for the résumés.”

“It seems a shame to replace the best homicide cop we’ve got, personal skills notwithstanding.”

“I’m still working to get Caroline to reverse the retirement decision, but I doubt she’ll agree to return to homicide even if I can talk her into coming back. The best I can probably hope for is to get her to take major cases.”

“That’s not a bad second, and she always did like a challenge.”

“Does Marsh have any pull with her? I know they’ve been close over the years.”

“He’s tried, Chief, and I’ve even had a run at her in the last month, but the shooting shook her more than she’s saying. I don’t think she’s held, much less fired, her weapon since then.”

“Having cause to put two bullets into a cop does that.” Luke wasn’t going to let himself dwell on the memory. He’d had a beat cop commit suicide by shooting at one of his best officers, then turn to shoot at civilians so that Caroline had had no choice but to return fire and kill him. It rattled a department and it rattled the cop involved, enough to mess with her head and her confidence. The fact it had come just after she’d solved one of the worst murder cases they’d had to deal with since the Bressman’s Jewelry store deaths hadn’t helped matters.

Connor held up the file. “A couple weeks okay on this?”

“Yes. And get out of the office before they tag you for lead on a new case; it’s Thursday and you’ve still got till Monday on that vacation.”

“That order I can take, Boss.” Connor paused in the doorway. “There’s a rumor around that someone in this town is about to become very wealthy.”

“Where did you hear it from?”

“A secretary who knows the secretary for the lawyer drafting the paperwork.”

“I heard it from a courier at the courthouse where the paperwork was filed. I’ll give it half a day before reporters have the name.”

“It’s not you?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Luke answered, smiling.

“As long as it’s someone who owes me a favor or two I’m going to be happy.”

“And just as long as it’s not my secretary or one of my officers, I’m going to be thrilled for the person.” Luke picked up the phone. “Tell Margaret she can quit waving at us both. I’m returning the mayor’s call now.”

He held up a hand to acknowledge Connor’s farewell. The call regarding the budget was going to consume twenty minutes and accomplish nothing, but at least it would keep his secretary happy. There were days he regretted becoming police chief rather than keeping the much more coveted job of deputy chief. Between the politics of this office and the constant budget pressure, the fun of the job was wearing thin. The department had a hundred thirty-two officers and needed a hundred sixty to do the job adequately, and the struggle for resources never ended. After lunch he was getting out of this office and not returning; patrolling with two of his officers would at least shake his headache even if it would leave the officers he chose to ride with nervous.

After the mayor’s call, Luke walked down to talk with his deputy chief, and then he took a long walk back through dispatch and the beat officers’ bull pen to make sure he knew what was happening down in the ranks. But the budget couldn’t be avoided. He was back at his desk by nine-thirty to proof the copy Margaret had pieced together from his notes written the day before.

Alerted by his secretary to the fact his 10 a.m. appointment was on his way up, Luke rose from his desk chair as his guest arrived. “Daniel, come in. Margaret said you were stopping by.”

Luke pulled on his suit jacket, feeling like the meeting warranted the formality if only to show respect for a man in mourning, and walked around the desk to shake hands and take a seat on the same side of the desk as his friend.

Daniel looked tired, that was Luke’s first impression, and as impeccably dressed as ever—the business suit conservative, the tie blue silk, and the white shirt crisp to the open collar and tight cuffs. The town paper still chose Daniel as their most eligible bachelor in Brentwood each year, selecting him for more reasons than just the money and political reach that stretched through his family and up to the governor’s office. The recent death of Daniel’s uncle had been reason enough to bring Daniel’s photo back into the newspaper pages again.

“What can I do for you today?” Luke asked.

“My uncle, God rest his soul, left two daughters that he’s just acknowledging for the first time in his will.”

Luke blinked and then sighed. “I guess I should have seen that coming. I heard someone in town was getting rich, and the only person in the obituaries lately who could cause that kind of stir was your uncle.”

“Henry loved his work, poured all his money into the Benton Group, and rarely mentioned his personal life. As Henry’s nephew I now find myself in the awkward position of inheriting most of his fortune along with management responsibilities for the Benton Group and being joined by two daughters who never knew they had a wealthy father. I would have said he had been faithful to his wife, but the daughters are in their thirties. It’s either going to go down smoothly or be a royal mess.”

The implications of that kind of news into the social circuit of the town would prompt lots of second-guessing about the man they had honored and applauded over the years, hoping to get his contributions to their boards and charities. And the arrival of two new ladies in classic Cinderella fashion to the world of the well-off would cause its own stir. Luke thought of the rumors already flying around, and he didn’t envy the two daughters. “You’re just finding out about their existence?”

“Henry clued me in about a month ago when it became apparent he wasn’t going to be leaving the hospital after his fifth heart attack. He apparently had an agreement with the aunt who was raising the girls that he’d not approach them until after the aunt died, and by the time that happened Henry was dealing with the third of his five heart attacks. So he left it simply a matter for his will and for me to deal with.”

“Nice of him.”

“Thank you. I thought I was the only one who noticed the unpleasantness of that abdication of responsibility.”

Luke could see the strain the last weeks had taken on his friend; honor defined him, and his uncle’s conduct would have been bitter news to swallow. Daniel had always cared deeply about what was right; it was something Luke admired about him. The fact Henry had been a Christian and yet done this—Luke grieved that fact, knowing it would make his future conversations with Daniel about God that much more difficult. “Have you met them, your new cousins?” he asked quietly, not sure how to best help his friend right now.

“Henry had a private investigator keeping track of them. The older sister, Marie, owns a gallery here in town, and the younger one, Tracey, attends college at the next town over, finishing work on a second master’s degree. I’ll admit to having checked them out at a distance shortly after I got the file—curiosity got the better of me—but I haven’t introduced myself as their cousin yet. Henry didn’t want to face them, and part of me understood that; so I let the man die in peace.”

“Where does it leave you now?”

“Hoping for a favor from a friend. I’ve got two ladies to tell today that their lives are forever going to be different, and if you’ve heard the rumor, the press will have the details soon. There will have to be a press conference tomorrow to deal with the announcement if only to try and deflect some of the reporters who will be on their doorsteps. And I’ve reason to believe the younger sister is dating one of your officers.”

“Oh?”

“Marsh. A good man when you need a shooter at your side, not so easy to figure out off the job: at least that’s the private investigator’s take on the man.”

“A pretty accurate assessment, I’d say. Who was Henry using as his investigator?”

“Sam Chapel, of the Chapel Detective Agency.”

Luke was relieved at the name. “I know him well; he’s one of the best.” Sam hadn’t been able to find Amy either, but he’d at least been able to track her to Colorado before the trail entirely disappeared. There had never been a letter or further contact from her, and Luke had eventually accepted the fact she’d changed her mind. It was that or worry trouble had found her, and he preferred the easier answer of her choosing to continue going it alone. “You can be sure the leak isn’t coming from Chapel’s folks.”

Daniel waved it away. “I never expected the news to last more than a day or two once the will began to work through the legal process. There is only so much the lawyers’ office handling my uncle’s estate would be able to keep quiet. But I’d hoped for another twenty-four hours before the press arrived in the picture.”

“Caleb Marsh works homicide. I’d trust the man with my life; and he’ll take less grief than most from the reporters, so the younger sister’s got a good guy in her life when this hits. And the money isn’t likely to mess with his head like it would some.”

“That’s good to know. I meet with the older sister in an hour. What am I supposed to tell her? ‘Your father didn’t mention your name until he knew he was about dead’? That’s going to go over well.”

“Start with welcome to the family and from there take it pretty slow. Just how wealthy are they about to become?”

Daniel gave a small smile. “Thirty million apiece, give or take a bit. Let’s hope it smoothes a few headaches for them.”

“How much did Henry leave you?”

“Four times that.”