Secrets Don't Sink, page 23
“Just get someone over here as soon as possible, will ya? Thanks.” Holden ended his call and exhaled. “I think we should wait out here. We don’t want to mess up the crime scene. I think I have an extra blanket in my trunk for emergencies.” He headed toward his car.
I turned to Mildred. “It’s going to be okay.”
“My home…my sanctuary…the place of all my memories with my beloved Stan. It’s been violated. How can I ever feel safe here again?”
“The police will do a thorough investigation, and whoever did this will be dealt with.”
Holden wrapped the blanket around Mildred. She was shivering, but I suspected it was as much from shock as it was from the cold.
He turned to me. “Sorry, I only had one.”
“I’m fine.”
A police car pulled up with lights flashing, but no siren. Sergeant Tony Bianchi hauled himself out of the driver’s side and slammed the door.
As he ambled toward the house, Tony said, “Twice in one day, Villalobos. How lucky am I? Luckier than you, I guess. I see your date didn’t go as well as you’d hoped.”
“Very Amusing,” said Holden.
“Anyone been inside yet?”
“Nope. We picked Mildred up from the library and headed down to Kirkland. I walked her to the door and waited for her to get safely inside. When she opened the door, she immediately knew something was wrong, so we didn’t go in.”
Tony turned to Mildred. “Was the door locked?”
“Of course. I’m a woman who lives alone. Do you really think I’d leave my house unlocked?” She jutted her chin in defiance.
“I watched her unlock it with the key,” Holden said.
Tony turned on his flashlight and shone it around Mildred’s dark living room.
He whistled. “You generally a tidy person?”
“Yes.”
I got the distinct impression Mildred wasn’t a fan of Tony.
“I’m just sayin’, I’ve been over at the Washburn house all day, and it looked quite similar. Apparently, that was their typical way of livin’.”
Mildred huffed with indignation. “Well, not me.”
“Hey, Bianchi,” Holden said. “Mind if we chat for just a minute?”
They walked a few feet away on the grass and huddled together. Their voices rumbled, but I wasn’t able to make out what they were saying. Holden made a few hand gestures, and Tony listened. Then they both chuckled.
An SUV with the CPD insignia parked on the opposite side of the street, and Kimball got out. Tony’s posture immediately stiffened.
“Villalobos,” Kimball called as she came up the sidewalk. “You’d better have a good reason for telling dispatch my presence was required during my off-hours at the scene of a minor break-in.”
“I’m not sure I’d consider it minor,” Holden said. “Assistant Chief Kimball, this is Mildred Driscoll. She works in Chattertowne’s archive and records department. She’s been helping Audrey with her research. We were at dinner in Kirkland all evening, and when we got here, found the place trashed.”
Kimball’s expression was placid. “What was taken?”
“We don’t know yet. No one’s been inside, but from what I saw, someone was in there looking for something. It doesn’t look like a robbery to me.”
“Oh, I hadn’t realized you were a crime scene expert. When did you graduate from the academy, Detective Villalobos? Or have you just watched a lot of Magnum PI? Ms. Driscoll, I’d like you to follow me into the home so you can point out anything which might be missing. Please don’t touch anything.”
Mildred followed Kimball inside.
Tony gave an uncomfortable chuckle.
“What are you so smug about?” Holden asked.
“I’m just enjoying someone else being on the receiving end of her wrath for once.”
“What’s Kimball’s deal, anyway?” I asked. “My sister seems to think she’s super nice and sweet, but my experience hasn’t been so warm and fuzzy.”
Holden shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows? Maybe because she’s a woman doing a historically man’s job, she feels the need to prove she’s tough as nails.”
“I got the feelin’ her old man puts a lot of pressure on her,” Tony said.
“Wha—”
I didn’t get a chance to ask him to clarify because, at that moment, Kimball appeared in the doorway.
“Bianchi, come look over the scene with me.”
Tony twisted his mouth and raised his brows at us before following her into the house.
Holden and I stood awkwardly on the stoop, not making eye contact.
Finally, I said, “What was Mildred saying to you when you walked her to her door?”
He heaved a sigh. “She told me you were too special for me to be playing games and that I needed to figure out what kind of man I was going to be.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I think she overheard some of our conversation.”
“How do you feel about what she said?” I asked.
“I think she’s one hundred percent correct.”
Tony peeked his head out. “Kimball suggested you two head home. By suggested, I mean she wants you to go. No use in staying here while we process the scene since it could take a while. We’ll get Mildred buttoned up and settled in before we leave and set up an hourly patrol for the night.”
“Any indication what was behind the break-in?”
“The back door was busted. Kimball seems to think it was just some druggy looking for something easy to sell. So far, Mildred hasn’t discovered anything missing, but she doesn’t have many things that would pull a lot of scratch at the pawn shop.”
“Interesting. Well, tell her goodnight for us,” Holden said.
“And let her know if she needs me, she can call or text,” I added.
“Will do.”
Bianchi went back inside, leaving Holden and me alone.
“C’mon, Audrey. Let’s get you home. You’ve been on your feet way too long tonight.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Once we arrived at my apartment complex, Holden opened the door to help me out of the car. My bag, heavy with the book safe, swung from my left wrist like a pendulum. He came alongside me as we entered the lobby. Standing at the elevator, he sighed and pulled me toward him, enveloping me in a full-bodied hug. I groaned as the crutches dug into my ribs, and he released me.
“You okay?” His voice was husky.
“It’s all just so much, but I’m okay. You?”
“I will be.”
The elevator doors opened. I entered with my head down and raised it only once the doors had shut. The only thing keeping me from bursting into sobs was knowing they would echo down the shaft for him to hear.
Pulling the book safe from my bag, I gripped it in my right hand along with the crutch handle. Turning my gaze to the ceiling, I exhaled a ragged breath.
The elevator door opened, and I leveled my gaze. I yipped with surprise at the sight of a man standing there.
“Darren! What are you doing here?”
“I came to check on you, make sure you’re okay. I haven’t seen you since Sunday morning after George….”
“I was out to dinner.”
Darren kept pace with me as I limped down the hallway toward my apartment.
“With Holden and Mildred,” I added.
“That’s an interesting combination. How was it?” Clench. Release. Exhale.
I struggled to grip the safe and my bag while dragging my boot and maneuvering the crutches down the hallway. The gray utilitarian carpet had come unglued, creating an obstacle course of ripples.
“Interesting.” I stumbled over a ripple.
“Hey, can I carry something for you?” he asked.
We were almost to my apartment door, and despite the strain of the satchel, I didn’t want to hand over my contraband.
“No, I’ve got it, thanks, but in my left jacket pocket, you’ll find my keys.”
He took the keys and unlocked the door. I clunked over the threshold, placed the book on the kitchen counter, and hurtled my exhausted body toward the sofa. I flung the detested crutches onto the floor. Darren slowly shut the door and placed the keys on the fake dictionary. He didn’t give it a second glance, and I exhaled with relief that my secret cache hadn’t caught his attention. He sat next to me, graceful in his repose.
“Not that I’m not glad to see you….”
I looked for an indication he realized I wasn’t claiming I was glad to see him either.
“But I must admit I’m a little surprised. I kinda figured I was persona non-grata with you.”
Darren slanted his head. “Why would you say that?”
“Maybe because the last time I saw you, you were less than pleased I was headed to the shooting range with Holden.”
“Audrey, I need you to understand something. Regardless how it may appear, this….” He waved his hands in the air, indicating whatever non-specific this was. “Isn’t about jealousy. It isn’t even about you.”
I gave him my most skeptical look.
“There’s a lot more going on than you know,” he said.
I waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t.
“So, if it’s not about Holden—”
He interrupted. “That’s not what I said. I said it isn’t about jealousy.”
“So, it is about Holden, but not because you’re jealous. Is it that you don’t trust him? Because, frankly, the feeling’s mutual.”
Darren leaned forward. He rested his forearms on his thighs and clasped his hands in front of him. A wisp of sand-colored hair fell onto his forehead from its coiffed position above his left ear. Blowing the stray lock from in front of his eye, he shook his hands like they held a rattle.
“I don’t trust him, and I have good reason. You’re just going to have to take my word for it.” He stopped to watch me for a moment. “You’re adorable when you cock your left eyebrow. I’m not sure if you know this, but you do it a lot.”
“Only when I’m with you.” My mouth twisted into a smirk.
“So, dinner was interesting, you said?”
“For a number of reasons, not the least of which was dropping Mildred off at her home, only to discover it had been ransacked,” I said.
“Ransacked!”
“Yes. That’s why I’m home so late. We had to wait for the cops.”
“Did they determine what had happened?” he asked.
“Eh. Kimball thinks it was a tweaker looking for something to sell. I’m not so sure.”
“Why else would someone break into an old lady’s house?”
“I have a theory,” I said.
“Would you like to share it?”
“I haven’t decided yet.”
Darren laughed. “Why’s that?”
“I’m not sure I can trust you.”
He appeared slightly wounded by my statement.
“I have to ask you something, and I need you to be honest.”
He slanted his chin toward me. “If I can.”
My words came out in an anxious whoosh. “Someone’s been tracking my online activity through my computer at work. I think it’s you, and I wanna know why.” I folded my arms.
I expected him to react with defensiveness or remorse, but he just blinked at me.
“I guess that’s my answer.”
He opened his mouth to speak and stopped. When he tried again, he struggled to find words. “Audrey, I…I know none of this makes sense to you right now, but I promise, it will.”
“Seriously? You’re admitting to cyberstalking me, and I’m supposed to just accept there’s a valid and justifiable explanation, a rational reason for this egregious invasion of privacy, but I can’t know the reason?” I squeezed my arms tighter against my chest.
My concerns and reservations about him had been suddenly usurped by a desire to bonk his pretty head against the wall.
Darren pursed his lips as he formulated his response. “I know it seems unreasonable, but at least I’m being honest with you. Doesn’t that count for something?”
“It might, if it weren’t for the fact you haven’t really been honest since the day we met.”
“That’s unfair.”
“Is it? Tell me how this sounds. You’re a financial and computer whiz who went to one of the most prestigious universities in the world, but you’ve relocated across the country to work for peanuts at a small-town newspaper. You live in a mansion on the previously mentioned salary of peanuts…and we’re not even talking name-brand peanuts, but the off-brand dollar store version. No top hat, no monocle, just the word peanuts in black letters on the front. Peanutz with a z. You say you’ve got no family other than your dad, but the photographs in your hallway say otherwise. Did your mother really die of breast cancer, or was that a lie too?”
His face contorted, and my stomach dropped.
“Darren, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
He composed himself before speaking in a hushed tone. “Yes, my mother died from breast cancer. I donate my entire pathetic Current salary to the Maddie Benson Foundation, which my mom created after her diagnosis to help other women. Yes, I’m overqualified. Yes, I invaded your privacy, and no, I haven’t been forthcoming with you about many things. I’d apologize for tracking your computer, but it would be disingenuous for me to do so because I’m not sorry. I had a very good reason.”
“One you can’t tell me.”
It was unseemly for a grown woman to sulk, but his fractional honesty infuriated and confused me.
“Yes, one I cannot tell you, at least not yet.”
“When?” I pouted.
“At the pace things have been moving lately, not long.”
“Ominous. Can’t you give me something? Anything? If you can’t tell me why you tapped into my computer, can you at least tell me why you can’t tell me why?”
Darren smiled. “You’re a persistent one.”
“Don’t patronize me.”
“Here’s what I can tell you. my lack of transparency—”
“You mean your dishonesty,” I said.
“I mean my lack of transparency. It’s not without purpose. When you know it, all will be forgiven, I’ve no doubt. You’ve got every reason to withhold your trust from me, but I want you to know I do care about you and would never do anything to hurt you.”
“You think lying to me and sneaking around behind my back, snooping into my life, doesn’t hurt me?” I asked.
“You’re just going to have to take me at my word. I’m doing it to protect you. In fact, that’s why I’m here now. I know you’re going to meet with someone in Ellensburg tomorrow, and I want to go with you.”
“I literally made those plans tonight at dinner. Do you have a bug in my purse? Did you tap my phone? You’ve got a lot of nerve. How do you know I don’t already have company for the trip?”
“Mildred sent you an email with the details of the meeting and Marie Journet’s contact information. I haven’t tapped your phone, nor have I eavesdropped on your apartment. Also, I hadn’t considered you might’ve already asked someone to take you.”
“Lucky for you, I’ve disinvited him, so I guess you’ll be an acceptable alternative.”
“I’m flattered.”
“You don’t get to be offended right now.” I poked his chest. “Got it?”
He nodded.
“I’m tired. Pick me up at nine-thirty.” I glanced between Darren and the door waiting for him to catch the hint.
“Alright. I’ll be here at nine fifteen. Want me to bring coffee?”
“Nine thirty. Drip with cream, two stevia. I’m not gonna deprive myself just to punish you, but don’t think for one second I am over this.” I yawned. “Oh, and a big dollop of whip on top.”
I locked the door behind him and glanced at the counter. My bed beckoned me, but so did the safe. I opened the faux cover and stared at the three-digit lock with the small black knob. It was an obstinate barrier to a potentially significant breakthrough—maybe even the smoking gun—in Marcus’s murder, Chattertowne’s history, or both.
I yanked on the knob, but it refused to budge. I scrolled each wheel of the combination lock to zero and pulled again to no avail. In my next attempt, I set it to one, two, three, but the rudimentary code proved fruitless. I wasn’t a quitter, but fatigue and dismay overtook my enthusiasm. I slid the book under my right armpit and clunked to my waiting bed.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
When my morning alarm sounded, I flung a pillow at my phone. I would have hit snooze, but I was too excited for the day’s adventure and what I might discover, or I would be once the caffeine Darren was bringing hit my veins.
My body creaked and cracked as my arms stretched, and I rolled off the mattress until my good foot hit the floor. I reached for the crutches, glared at them, and threw them down.
It wasn’t pain that made walking on my injured ankle difficult, but the heaviness of the boot. Dragging the boot without the support of crutches put pressure on my other leg, which created hip and knee discomfort, but my chafed armpits cried out for a break. Since much of the day would be spent in the car, I decided to ditch the sticks, grabbed the safe from the nightstand, and hobbled into the living room.
After her late night at work, I’d expected Viv to be sound asleep. She was not only awake, but also dressed and about to walk out the front door.
“You’re up early,” I said.
“I have to be at the station by nine.”
“How are you functioning on so little sleep?”
“It’s rough, but I have a feeling it’s temporary.”
“Which part is temporary?”
“Hopefully, the late nights. If this gig at the station turns into a regular thing, I’ll tell Leon I’m done waitressing, and I’m only available to sing on the weekends. What do you have going on today?”
“Darren’s taking me to Ellensburg to meet with a woman about her Flathead heritage. Viv, I have so much to tell you. Mildred told me some crazy stuff last night at dinner about Gramma Allie and Aunt Fanny.”
