Murder on Prescott Mountain, page 3
He shook his head in disgust. “You still can’t prove anything. The man who attacked you got away.”
“We’ll find him. We locked the streets up tight when he took off. Half the force is going door-to-door.”
“So a street criminal, who may or may not be the rapist you’re after, is running free. And the man who was trying to help you sits in an interrogation room.”
“What’s his name?”
He frowned. “Who? The stranger I was trying to keep from killing you? Or the River Road Rapist? Either way, I can’t help you, lady.”
She pounced on his phrasing. “You say that as if you know the other guy isn’t the rapist. Are you admitting you’re the rapist? The guy on the run is, what, a mugger you stumbled across while trolling for your latest victim?”
He gave her a scathing glance but didn’t answer.
She tried again. And again, using the information in the file, the pictures, asking the same questions in a dozen different ways. But he wouldn’t break. He barely even spoke, except to occasionally swear or tell her again that he was only trying to protect her.
An hour into the interview, she was failing miserably. She had nothing to show for her efforts. She drew a deep breath, centering herself, trying to calm down. Then she started over from the beginning.
“Where were you when you supposedly saw the other man following me?”
“River Road. I told you that. I saw you cut between two buildings, then a moment later that guy followed you. He looked suspicious, so I went after him to see if he was up to something. My rusty instincts were right. He was definitely up to no good.”
“Rusty instincts? Are you talking about your military career, in Special Forces?”
He sighed heavily.
“Why were you in town?” she tried, realizing she should have asked that from the start, instead of only covering the attack itself. “You live on Prescott Mountain, right?”
His gaze flitted back to hers. “I’m not a hermit. I do come down the mountain occasionally.”
“It was late. Did you come to town for dinner? Don’t you have a fancy chef in your mansion who could cook whatever you want?”
His brow arched. “Careful. Your class prejudices are showing.”
Her face heated. “You don’t have a cook? Or a mansion?”
“I didn’t say that.”
She smiled.
The side of his mouth crooked up reluctantly, seemingly acknowledging that she’d won that round. Then he straightened as if he’d suddenly come to some kind of realization. He watched her with that laser-like intensity again. “You’re asking why I came to town tonight?”
“Yes.”
“You really don’t know?”
She frowned. “No. Why would I?”
“Wow.” He shook his head, clearly bemused. “That explains a lot. I assumed, when I saw him at the hospital, that he’d told you everything. And I was baffled that he still allowed me to be brought here, and sent you to question me. I was curious what game he was playing, what game you were playing and what it had to do with me. Turns out, it’s all about you. I’m just his pawn, for whatever reason.”
“What are you talking about? You’re not making sense.”
“Only because he didn’t tell you the truth. He sent you in here completely unprepared.” He leaned toward her as far as the chains would allow. “Detective, in case you don’t already know, your boss is an ass.”
She hated that she was in complete agreement with a suspected rapist. “You know him, Sergeant Jeffries?”
He laughed without humor. “Know him? I’ve been meeting two or three times a year with him and the whole chain of command around here for seven years. You want to know why I was in town? Ask Jeffries. And while you’re at it, get me a phone. I’m ready for my lawyer. We’re done here.”
She’d been about to demand that he explain what he meant about her boss, but the moment he said that hated word lawyer they really were done. The interview was over.
Her hands shook as she scooped the pictures back into the folder. “I’ll get you that phone call. Give me a few minutes. Do you need to use the restroom or anything?”
He stared at her a long moment as if he wanted to say something else. But then he slowly shook his head. It was the pity in his gaze that nearly did her in. Her suspect knew more than she did about whatever was going on, about why Jeffries had sent her in here to interview him. Her boss had put her in an untenable position.
She calmly stepped from the room, shutting the door with a controlled click. After getting a uniformed officer to guard the door, she headed down the hallway toward her boss’s office. The closer she got, the madder she became. As soon as she rounded the last corner and no one else was around, she took off running.
Chapter Four
Grayson let out a long slow breath and leaned back against the hard metal chair. He’d let his irritation and anger at this situation make him act like the ass he’d just accused Jeffries of being. He normally prided himself on treating people better, especially women. But after everything he’d gone through today—all for nothing, again—to have been arrested when trying to help someone had been the proverbial last straw.
And it had only gotten worse from there.
That ugly word—rape—had been thrown at him. After that, he’d been struggling not to shout and had barely managed that.
He was glad the detective left when she had. He’d needed the break to get himself under control, to remember what was important, his seven-year search for the truth. Being arrested was only a slight detour.
If he’d known upfront what they suspected him of, he could have put their suspicions to rest immediately. After all, he might technically live alone, but his mansion, as Detective McCray had called it, required a staff of people to keep it going. There were plenty who could vouch for his whereabouts on any given day.
Not to mention the security cameras around his property. After what had happened in the past, he’d been determined to make it safer for anyone working there, let alone him. All he’d have to do to prove he wasn’t committing this series of attacks was pull the recordings. Proving where he was would be easy. But he’d been curious what kind of game the cops were playing.
He’d also hoped, foolishly so, to question McCray at some point and see if he could get more information from her about his seven-year quest, information the higher-ups weren’t willing to share. But it hadn’t taken long to realize how nervous she was and to begin wondering why Jeffries hadn’t sent one of his seasoned veterans to question him. So he’d settled in to wait, more out of curiosity than anything else.
Now he just wanted out of here, to end this juvenile game, whatever it was.
An hour passed before a knock sounded on the door. As McCray stepped inside, her change in demeanor had him hesitating, instead of immediately demanding the promised phone call. Earlier, she’d been timid, unsure of herself. Now, her back was ramrod stiff, her movements confident, determined. She looked as if she were ready to do battle, or she’d just come from one.
She had a leather satchel with her, the kind people slung over their shoulders these days to replace the briefcases the older generations had used. She set it beside the chair, then sat with her hands clasped on the table, her shoulders rigid. “My apologies for keeping you waiting so long. But you’ll be pleased to know that we’re dropping all charges against you. And the DNA sample won’t be necessary.”
“Good to hear. I hope you’ll explain why. When you walked out of here, you seemed far from convinced of my innocence.”
“Yes, well, that was before I spoke to Jeffries. I’ve confirmed you were here earlier tonight meeting with him and several others, including Police Chief Russo. The same meeting you have, as you mentioned, several times a year. I also found out that they all know quite a bit about you and are confident you’re not involved in the spate of attacks in our town.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Somehow, I doubt their opinions alone would be enough to sway you to drop the charges if you still believe I’m guilty. Unless you’re not being given a choice?”
She crossed her arms on the table, leaning slightly forward. “Correct on both counts. I’ve been ordered to drop all charges. But I would have done so even without them telling me to, since I now know with absolute certainty that you were not involved in the other attacks and therefore were likely doing exactly what you claimed tonight, trying to help me because you thought I was in danger.”
“I’m relieved you no longer think I’m a despicable rapist and murderer. But what exactly caused your change of heart?”
“Two things. The first being that we’ve caught the real perpetrator. Another female police officer decoy tonight was attacked. She’s fine. Her backup was there immediately and they caught the guy. He’s confessing like a nun to a priest, holding nothing back. We’ll have to follow up with forensics, of course, but it looks promising that he’s the River Road Rapist. And after hearing about your meetings here, I confirmed that one of them was during one of the rapes, providing you with an ironclad alibi. Since the same DNA has been found in all the attacks, obviously that rules you out.”
“I’m so relieved,” he said dryly, still aggravated that she’d suspected him in the first place.
She tapped her hands against the table. “We also caught the guy who attacked me. As you suspected, he’s a small-time criminal. He corroborated your story, had no clue who you were. And he’s provided solid alibis for the other attacks. He couldn’t have done them. He was in jail. So he’s not part of some duo-rapist team.”
“I get off by default. I feel so vindicated.”
“Yes, well. For what it’s worth, I am sorry that you were put through this.”
“You said there were two things that changed your mind about me being involved. The first is that you found the real bad guy. What’s the second?”
“Right and wrong, plain and simple. People in power shouldn’t play with other people’s lives.”
He frowned. “I don’t follow.”
She flattened her palms on top of the table. “My boss knew, back in the emergency room, that we should have let you go. Not because of who you are, but because while he was speaking to me he got the text message about the rapist being caught. He knew you were innocent.”
She looked up at the camera and spoke defiantly. “You never should have been put through any of this. Jeffries thought it was funny that I didn’t know who you were. And since you were my first suspect interview, he let it go on when it never should have even begun. It’s not right and I’m furious at him over this. Again, my sincere apologies.”
He couldn’t help admiring her courage in standing up to her boss if he happened to view the recording later. “Detective McCray—”
“Willow. We’re way past the need for formalities now.”
“I appreciate your outrage on my behalf, truly. But it’s okay. I could have easily ended all of this at the hospital by calling my lawyer. You were right earlier, that I don’t actually come to town all that often. It’s likely my security footage at home can prove my whereabouts during most of the attacks. But, honestly, I wanted to see how this would play out too. Jeffries saw me, knew who I was. For him to not stop this, I knew something was up. First interview, huh? I’m guessing he thought I would be a good initiation for you, nothing to lose if you screwed it up since he knew I wasn’t guilty.”
Her face reddened. “Like you said. He’s an ass.”
He chuckled. “Well, don’t worry about it. No big deal.”
“It is a big deal. What Jeffries did to me is politics. It smarts, but I’ll get over it. What he did to you was just wrong.”
“Let it go. I’m not mad anymore.” He rattled the chains on his wrists. “If you’ll just—”
“Oh. Good grief. I should have taken those off immediately.” She pulled the key out of her pocket and quickly unlocked the handcuffs.
He rubbed his wrists. “Thanks. That feels a whole lot better.”
“I’m sure it does. Here, your keys and phone.” She pulled them out of the satchel and handed them to him. “You’ll need to sign for those, saying your property was returned. Just a sec.” She retrieved a form from the satchel, along with a pen. “I’ll be happy to drive you to your vehicle, wherever it’s parked.”
After signing the form, he stood, pocketing his phone and keys. “No need. It’s a short walk from the station. I hope you can enjoy the rest of your evening. Good night.”
She grabbed her satchel and intercepted him at the door. “Wait. Please.” She glanced at the camera before continuing. “It will make me feel better about all this if you’ll let me drive you to your car. A courtesy.”
“Thanks, but it’s really not far.” He reached for the doorknob.
She put a hand on his arm. “Grayson.” Her voice was so low he could barely hear her. “Trust me. You want me to drive you to your car.”
Puzzled by her insistence, he shrugged. It wasn’t worth an argument. They didn’t speak again until she pulled her aging Taurus into the parking lot off River Road where he’d parked his car to have dinner and then meet with the police.
“Thank you, Detective.”
“Willow.”
“Willow. Take care.” He’d just slid behind the wheel of his car when the passenger door opened and the detective got in. He gave her a questioning look. “Was there something else? Another form to sign?”
Or was this something more personal? Was she hitting on him?
She glanced around the interior, hugging the satchel to her chest. “Nice. I’ve been in Audis before, but never a two-seater sports car like this. Bet it’s a dream to drive with the top down, zooming along the mountain curves. What is it?”
So it was the car she liked, not him. Not that it mattered. Even as a long-time widower, he wore his wedding ring for a reason. He hadn’t moved on, probably never would. But he could still admire a woman like her. On top of being intelligent, driven and unwilling to compromise her ethics, she was petite with long wavy hair that had him itching to run his hands through it. And those curves of hers were far more appealing than the starving skinny girls that were all the fashion in his usual social circles.
“Spyder, R8. Did you have more questions for me, about your case? It’s been a long day. I’d like to go home.”
Her knuckles whitened on the satchel. “Actually, I have some answers for you.”
“Answers?”
She nodded. “I’m risking my job by doing this. But I figure you deserve it. And it gives me some juvenile satisfaction doing this behind Jeffries’s back. I can let you look at what’s in this satchel, but only as long as I’m with you. And you can never tell anyone about this or I’ll be fired. I’m crossing a huge line by even sneaking this out. I have to be careful, make sure I bring it back exactly the way it was.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Your meeting tonight, and other nights. At the police station. You said you go there several times a year. Jeffries explained it was so you could pump them for information on an old case.” She unclipped the satchel and reached inside.
He stared at her, afraid to hope as she pulled out a thick three-ring binder.
“Like I said, my boss was a total jerk to you tonight. To me too, not that that’s anything new. I figure he owes you a look at this.” She turned it around and held it up.
The tab on the folder had one word: Prescott.
His gaze flew to hers, his throat so tight he could barely force out the words. “Is that what I think it is?”
“It’s the official case file, the murder book, the one you’ve never been allowed to see. It contains the details about the investigation into the murder of your wife seven years ago, and the disappearance of your infant daughter.”
Chapter Five
Willow stood at the floor-to-ceiling bank of windows in Grayson’s home office, marveling at the maze of British-style gardens spreading out beneath extravagant landscape lighting. It was a bit formal for her tastes, but beautiful just the same.
The view through the windows on the other side of the office was equally stunning. A pool that seemed more like a natural pond curved around the side of the house. Lush green, perfectly trimmed grass gave way to blankets of blue-and-white flowers that flowed like water to the tree line.
It was too dark to see the mountains, but as high as they’d driven to get here, she could well imagine the entire Smoky Mountain chain spreading out around them. No doubt the view rivaled the three-hundred-and-sixty-degree views she’d witnessed on her hikes to Clingmans Dome in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.
The home itself was massive. She couldn’t begin to guess how many square feet were contained behind its honey-colored stone walls. Seeing it as he’d raced his black sports car up the last of the mountain road to park beneath the portico had taken her breath away. And yet, he’d jumped out of the car, leading her along without even seeming to notice the beauty all around him.
What must it be like to live in a place like this and not gasp in awe every time you came home? Then again, maybe he normally did. But tonight, he’d been consumed with the need to review the murder book. He’d been desperate to see the information that had been hidden from him all these years, hoping to glean new clues about the tragedy that had taken his family.
Even now, he sat behind his L-shaped mahogany desk in the middle of the room, poring over every page, every picture, greedily soaking in each detail. He’d been doing that for the past two hours, long enough for the staff in his house to quit knocking on the door, asking whether they needed anything. Long enough for them to head down the mountain to their own homes, leaving this one entombed in silence, broken only by the occasional turning of a page that Grayson was reading.
