To Promise, page 9
“Sure. The beginning.” He swallowed hard. “I’d decided to go into the pub after it closed to get a six-pack of beer. When I was behind the bar, I heard men’s voices.”
“You were going to steal beer?” Jemma looked horrified.
He closed his eyes for a moment. “Yeah, look, I know it was stupid, okay? I was old enough to drink, but they’d refused to sell me a six-pack. Once I got inside the place, I started having second thoughts about the plan, even considered leaving a ten-dollar bill to pay for the beer, but it didn’t matter. Because I wasn’t alone in the bar.”
“The staff often work late to clean up after closing down.” Garth’s was the voice of reason.
He shook his head. “I’d waited until the bartender and server had left. Was just past four thirty in the morning when I went inside. That’s why I was so surprised to hear the men begin to argue. I was so afraid of getting caught and tossed in jail I didn’t really pay attention to what they were saying. But then things began to escalate.”
“Go on,” Garth encouraged.
“I realized they were fighting over someone talking to someone else. Still hiding behind the bar, I inched over to the edge and peered around the corner. There were three men, one of them appeared to be a bit intoxicated. I didn’t recognize any of them. Suddenly, one of the men lifted a gun. My heart froze in my chest, and I thought for certain he’d pull the trigger. But instead of firing the weapon, he used it to hit the drunk man on the side of his head. Poor guy went down like a rock.”
Garth eyed him thoughtfully. “Makes it manslaughter or reckless homicide, not murder.”
Jake lifted a hand. “Let me finish. While the one guy was lying there on the floor, the other guy was yelling about how much trouble they were going to get in. The guy with the gun didn’t seem to care. Seconds later, he bent down, lifted the guy from the floor, and levered him down the basement stairs to finish the job.”
A heavy, shocked silence draped the gazebo.
“Can you identify these men?” Garth finally asked.
“I recognized their voices, but only got a good look at one of them. Not the one who threw the injured man down the stairs, but the other one.” He swallowed hard. “I must have made a noise because he looked directly at me. I thought for sure the gig was up and that I’d be next to be tossed down the stairs or shot, but they took off.” He didn’t add that he’d hid like a frightened little girl for a good twenty minutes behind the bar before he’d gotten out of there, too.
“The man on the pier.” Bree’s voice was a hushed whisper.
“Abe Crowley.” It felt good to have a name to go with the face after all these years.
“Abe’s son drives a black pickup truck.” Garth’s expression turned thoughtful. “I can check it out, see if there’s anything on the bumper that indicates it may have been the one that hit you.”
He appreciated Garth’s support. “That would be great. I don’t know who the other guy is though.”
“Benny Maynard,” Jazz said.
“Who?” Garth frowned.
Jazz waved a hand. “The men who were on the boat the night Lucy died. Don’t you see? Jake has unlocked the key to Lucy’s murder! Abe Crowley and Benny Maynard were on the boat with our dad the night Lucy fell overboard. Maybe they were arguing about that in the bar that night.”
He thought back for a moment, trying to capture fragments of memory from that fateful night twelve years ago. “I don’t recall hearing about a girl named Lucy.”
“Didn’t Trina mention something about her uncle Samuel Delrosa dying twelve years ago?” Jemma glanced at Jazz. “Maybe her uncle was the guy that was tossed down the stairs.”
“Yes, she did. Must be that Benny Maynard is the murderer.”
“Hold on.” Garth raised a hand. “You have lots of very plausible theories here, but absolutely zero evidence. You can’t convict someone of a crime without proof.”
“Jake is an eyewitness to what happened that night.” Jazz glanced at him. “Doesn’t that count as evidence?”
“If we can flip Abe Crowley on his buddy, it will. Although you have to factor in that the crime happened twelve years ago and the eyewitness is first coming forward now.”
Jake felt his face redden with shame. “I was young and foolish and scared, figured the police would eventually figure out what happened using DNA or something.”
“I’m not blaming you, Jake. Just stating a fact.” Garth rose to his feet and went over to pick up Trey. The kid was beginning to look sleepy, so he held the boy on his lap. “Would be nice to know who died that night, before we bring Crowley in.”
“Trina could probably find out from her mother where her uncle died, don’t you think, Jemma?” Jazz turned toward her twin. “They’d be interested in uncovering the truth.”
“Not sure that will help since it sounds as if Samuel Delrosa’s death was already ruled an accident,” Garth pointed out. “I’m betting he was intoxicated, his body found on the bottom of the stairs. Who would doubt he’d fallen by accident?”
Jake didn’t like where the conversation was going. “You’re saying the hit-and-run attempt that took place once Abe Crowley learned my name is nothing more than a coincidence? That he didn’t recognize me as the kid who witnessed the murder he and his buddy committed all those years ago?”
Bree reached out to lightly squeeze his arm. “Garth is thinking like the Garda, Jake. I’m sure he believes you.”
“I do believe you.” Garth stroked his hand down Trey’s back. The kid was snuggled against his chest, and for a moment, Jake was struck by the sheer trust and innocence the little boy felt toward his stepfather. He missed his own parents, wished he hadn’t kept his distance for so long. “Bree’s right. Part of the job is to look at the issue from all possible angles. Once we can confirm the identity of the guy who died that night, we can begin to put the rest of the puzzle pieces into place.”
“Yeah, sure.” He felt let down by the fact that Garth wasn’t immediately heading out to arrest Abe Crowley. “I understand you want to get it right.”
“I want to build a case and get it right,” Garth said. “In the meantime, you may want to keep your distance from Abe Crowley. If he or his son was the driver of the black truck, then he may decide to strike again.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.” Jemma frowned. “Can’t you do something, Garth? What about at least talking to Abe, letting him know the police are watching?”
“It would only tip him off.” Garth reached out for Jemma’s hand. “I’ll make sure the rest of the deputies keep an eye on Jake. If he stays away from Crowley, he should be okay.”
“That’s not going to happen.” They all stared at him in surprise. “What? I can’t stay away; my boat is moored on the pier outside of his rental business.”
“There must be another place to keep your boat.” Bree’s expression was troubled.
She had a point, but he didn’t think it would be so easy. He could look for another place, but in the meantime, he wasn’t going to stop working on his latest project.
But it might be smart to convince Bree she was better off not helping him. It was one thing to put himself in danger, but no way did he want her anywhere near Abe Crowley.
As much as he hated to admit it, breaking things off with Bree was likely the best way to keep her safe.
9
A more pigheaded man she’d ever met! Jake McNally cared more about his stupid boat project than he did about his own personal safety.
It was enough to drive her mad.
Seething with annoyance, she watched as he disappeared inside the B&B. Typical of him, running away like that. It’s what he did best, didn’t he?
As far as she could tell, he’d been running for years. From the past or from other women.
Likely both.
True, witnessing a murder would be traumatic for anyone. Especially seeing a man with a gun viciously attacking another person. She could only imagine what he’d gone through twelve years ago.
Yet he’d never said anything about it. All that time they’d spent together between England and Ireland yet nary a word. A secret he’d planned to keep forever, without realizing that the truth would fester like a thorn burrowed under the skin, constantly attempting to work its way out.
She knew he’d only brought it up now because of the hit-and-run.
The close call took on a new meaning now that she knew Abe Crowley was likely responsible. Not a drunk driver off his rocker, but a deliberate attempt to cause them harm.
This type of violence was a part of the US she hadn’t planned to experience firsthand.
“What about Leon Tate?” Jazz’s voice broke the silence.
“What about him?” Jemma asked.
“He was around back then, too, right? He was Lucy’s older brother and has hated the McNallys since the night Lucy fell overboard and drowned.” Jazz shrugged. “Why wouldn’t he be one of the guys involved?”
“No, it has to be Benny Maynard. Remember we learned both he and Abe were on the boat that night with Lucy, our dad, and Samuel Delrosa. It doesn’t make sense that Leon would be involved in the cover-up of his sister’s murder,” Jemma protested.
“Anything is possible,” Jazz said stubbornly.
“Babe, I know Leon and his daughter Mary have been rude to you and your siblings.” Dalton reached out to massage Jazz’s shoulder. “But he wasn’t the one responsible for the vandalism to the gazebo, or to any of the other events that have taken place over the past five months. Remember how Jesse thought Leon trashed his Corvette? Turned out we were wrong about that, too. It’s time to let go of your grudge against the old man once and for all.”
“I’m not holding a grudge.” Jazz’s protest came a little too quickly. “But if you think about it, who’s to say that Leon wasn’t trying to get information on Lucy’s death when he killed Samuel Delrosa?”
“We don’t know for sure the dead man is Samuel Delrosa.” Garth rose to his feet, still cradling Trey against his chest. “No sense in arguing over who may or may not have been involved. This is a police matter now, and you all need to trust me to get to the bottom of it. Jemma, I’m going to put Trey to bed.”
“Okay, but bring the baby monitor so we can hear him if he wakes up.”
Garth nodded, indicating he’d heard his wife’s request, then disappeared around the corner heading toward the front of the house.
“Bree, you need to find a way to stop Jake from working on his boat while it’s docked near Abe Crowley.” Jazz looked at Jemma. “Don’t you agree?”
“Totally.” Jemma gave a quick nod. “It’s crazy for him to be there alone, like he was all afternoon, with a dead phone battery no less.”
“I’m the last person Jake will listen to.” The McNally twins acted as if she had a say in Jake’s life, but that was far from the truth. A wave of sheer exhaustion overwhelmed her. “He’ll do whatever he wants.”
“He can be so darn stubborn!” Jazz blew out a breath.
“Yeah, not at all like the other McNallys.” Dalton’s dry response made Bree smile.
“You see it too, do you?” In that moment, she felt a bit of kinship with Dalton. “They’re all alike, they are.”
“Truer words have never been spoken.” Dalton chuckled when Jazz scowled at him. “Hey, I love you, Jazz, but come on, even you have to admit that stubborn is the strongest McNally trait the six of you share.”
“I plead the fifth,” Jemma said with a grin. “Give it up, there’s no way out of this one, sis.”
“Maybe not, but if we work together, we should be able to out-stubborn Jake.” Jazz tapped her finger against her chin. “Which of our neighbors has a pier?”
“None that I’m aware of,” Jemma said.
“I guess we should have built a pier for our place,” Dalton said. “I’d do it now, but by the time we’d get it finished, it would be too late. Jake told me he doesn’t plan to keep the boat longer than a week or two.”
A week or two. It stung, even though she knew it was the truth. Bree thought it was sweet the way the McNallys brainstormed solutions to Jake’s problem. His family cared more than he did.
How sad was that?
“I’m heading inside.” She stood and took a moment to appreciate the way the sun was dipping beneath the edge of the horizon. Beautiful sunset. “Good night.”
“Good night, Bree.” Jemma and Jazz spoke simultaneously, then broke out into musical laughter.
Inside the B&B, the air conditioning was set at a level that made her shiver. She ignored it, knowing she wouldn’t be chilled the following morning as she cooked breakfast for the remaining guests and the McNally family.
Tomorrow was Friday, and the wedding guests would begin arriving by three in the afternoon. She needed to check with Jemma about what plans she’d made for the special occasion. Would they only be serving breakfasts or other meals as well?
Both Jemma and Jazz had gotten married in the gazebo. The pictures had turned out so lovely, they’d successfully used them to advertise their gazebo wedding package.
A grand marketing ploy that kept the B&B full over many of the summer weekends.
A trickle of nervousness slid down her spine. Cooking breakfast for the wedding wouldn’t be a problem. No way to mess that up, was there?
Maybe she’d be better off staying focused on helping Jemma and Jazz with their business, leaving Jake to do whatever he wanted.
She didn’t have any control over the man.
Not now, not ever.
As soon as Jemma’s wrist was healed, Bree would fly back to Collinstown, Ireland, leaving Jake to figure out his next project on his own.
Despite his sore muscles from hours of manual labor, Jake didn’t sleep well. Nightmares of the past sneaked into his brain, causing him to wake up with a start, his heart pounding and sweat dampening his brow.
Too late now to wish he’d handled things differently. Maybe if he’d gone to the police twelve years ago, they’d have found the evidence they’d needed to put Abe Crowley and his gun-wielding cohort in jail.
He knew he’d disappointed his sisters and their husbands. Especially Garth.
And worse, he’d disappointed Bree.
He never should have returned to McNally Bay. It bothered him that his family thought him a coward—a stupid, selfish kid who’d run from a crime without ever coming forward about what he’d seen.
Not to mention, he’d broken the law by being inside the bar in the first place.
He thought he’d feel better once everyone knew the truth, but he didn’t. Somehow, he felt worse.
Much, much worse.
With a groan he rolled out of bed, stretching his sore muscles. He considered skipping breakfast with the family. Daisy’s Diner, located on Main Street, offered decent food, not as good as Jemma’s or Bree’s home-cooked meals, but not bad.
Yet the thought of running into Abe Crowley or any other older guy who may have been there that fateful night made him grimace.
Nope. For now, he’d tough it out downstairs. The minute he was finished eating he’d head over to continue working on his boat. The sooner he made the repairs, the sooner he could put it up for sale and move on.
As much as he wanted to be sure his family was safe, there was no denying it would be great to put McNally Bay behind him, for good.
After a shower and shave, he headed down to the dining room overlooking Lake Michigan. He expected to see guests, but he must have missed them because only Jazz and Dalton were seated at a table near the French doors.
“Hey, Jake.” Jazz greeted him with a smile. “Come join us.”
He took a seat, his stomach rumbling with hunger when he saw the brown bread French toast they were enjoying. “That looks great.”
“It is,” Dalton agreed. He took a sip of his coffee. “Good news, we have a pier for you to rent.”
He tried not to sigh. His family meant well, but he wasn’t used to having them constantly in his business. He forced a smile. “Oh yeah? Where?”
“Just a couple houses down from our place. A couple by the name of Erica and Kenny Tang live there. Their female Goldendoodle, Frieda, happens to be Goldie’s mom. They’re nice people, Garth checked them out before we agreed to take one of Frieda’s puppies.”
“That’s a possibility,” Jake agreed. He had to admit, having the boat closer to the B&B would make it easier to work on it. And to sleep there at night since he’d have to move out of the green room. “How much does she want for rent?”
“She offered half price of whatever you’re paying now.” Dalton shrugged. “Sounds like a bargain to me.”
“To be honest, I’m not sure what I’m paying now.” His gut clenched at the thought of asking Abe Crowley what he owed. Maybe he should take Garth with him when he faced off with the owner of McNally Bay Boat Rental. “But either way, it sounds like a deal. Thanks, Dalton.”
His brother-in-law waved a hand. “Don’t mention it. Besides, it was Garth’s idea.” Dalton grinned. “I’m just sharing the good news.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, once I finish breakfast, I’ll make arrangements to move the boat to the Tang pier. You’ll have to give me an address though.”
“I don’t have an address, but according to Garth, once you find our place, the only one with a white gazebo in the yard, you head west three houses.” Dalton gestured toward the lake. “It’s the first pier you’ll see, long and gray in color.”
Jake figured it couldn’t be hard to miss. He rose to his feet. “I’m going to get some tea, do either of you need anything from the kitchen?”
“Nope, I’m good,” Jazz replied.
“Me, too.” Dalton took a bite of his French toast. “Hmm.”
Since his stomach rumbled again, he decided to ask Bree to make him the French toast. As he entered the kitchen, he noticed Bree was by herself at the stove, her curly dark hair springing out of her ponytail.
