A Widow's Guilty Secret, page 11
Somehow, he managed to draw away from the woman who’d stirred him to the point that he found himself ditching his principles, his training and his natural tendency to be cautious.
Had there been no investigation, no case that could possibly involve Suzy directly or indirectly, he would have been free to go with his instincts—instincts he had been so very sure that he’d sealed away and left behind him years ago.
But then, had there been no investigation, their paths, his and Suzy’s, most likely wouldn’t have crossed. And even if they had, there would have still been a problem. At that point—if there’d been no murder—she would have been a married woman, he reminded himself.
It seemed that no matter how he sliced it, this—whatever this actually was—was just not supposed to be happening between them.
And yet, there was no denying that something was definitely happening between them.
It took Nick more than a couple of seconds to get his bearings—and that, too, surprised him. Until now, he’d always been able to land on his feet no matter where he fell from.
“I’m sorry, that shouldn’t have happened,” he apologized, taking the full blame for both occurrences. “It’s just that you looked so upset and I wanted to help somehow.”
Nick suppressed an exasperated sigh. That hadn’t come out right. Words, whether verbal or written, had never been his long suit. He’d always been better at doing, at acting rather than talking. Now was no exception.
Despite everything that was going on, Suzy couldn’t help but smile at him. This tall, powerful-looking police detective was stumbling around like a newborn colt trying to stand up on his unsteady legs.
“Actually, you did help,” she responded. “It’s been a long time since I’ve felt—anything.”
Suzy left it at that, a vague statement he could interpret any way he wanted to. To say more now would only scare both of them off and she had no idea if what she was feeling was born of gratitude—or something else.
“Maybe I’d better come back later—tomorrow,” Nick suggested, wanting to give her some time to reassess the situation—wanting to give himself some time, as well.
As far as he was concerned, this was nothing short of conduct unbecoming in his case and no matter how attractive he found the woman, that wasn’t supposed to have any bearing on his behavior. He wasn’t supposed to be acting on impulses even if his intentions had been honorable to begin with—or so he’d told himself.
“No, please.” Suzy caught his sleeve, holding on to it far more firmly than he would have thought her capable of doing. “I want to help you with this investigation. I need to help,” she emphasized. “The Peter Burris I knew wasn’t a monster, but if what you’re telling me is true, he was far from being the honest man he pretended to be and he did things that I will always be ashamed of—”
Nick didn’t want her dwelling on that. “I told you, it’s not your fault,” he said firmly. “None of this is your fault.”
“Then let me help,” she requested simply.
He saw the need in her eyes and relented. Not to would have been cruel.
“All right, I could use another set of eyes as well as hands,” he allowed. “And you’ll probably make much less of a mess than I would—although,” he warned her, “this is going to have to be a thorough search.”
She wasn’t going to hide. If there was something damning hidden here, it had to come out. And if there wasn’t, then maybe the picture wasn’t as black as Nick had painted it. Either way, she wanted the truth.
Suzy nodded. “I understand.”
* * *
They spent the next several hours going over the three-bedroom home with a fine-tooth comb, emptying closets, clearing drawers, climbing up ladders and examining places that were normally inaccessible to anything but dust accumulation, such as the tops of kitchen cabinets. The search took twice as long as initially projected because they painstakingly disassembled then reassembled each room.
And for their trouble, they found a few things that Suzy had long thought lost. As far as discovering why Peter Burris had been murdered, along with the man who’d been his mark, or why there’d been a third victim thrown into those shallow graves, they got no further in their investigation.
Somewhat drained by the search and the subsequent disappointment, Nick suggested they take a break. They’d just finished going over the master bedroom and, crossing into the hallway, they sank down onto the floor, their backs resting against the wall.
Seeing her sister and the detective looking so weary, Lori must have taken pity on them. After putting Andy down for a nap, Suzy’s sister hurried downstairs and within minutes returned to present each of them with a tall, frosty glass of pink lemonade.
Suzy took hers with both hands and first applied it to her forehead and cheek, absorbing the coolness with an appreciative sigh.
“You’re a saint,” Suzy told her. Lori had placed a straw into hers, just the way she preferred it. It had the effect of taking her back to the early days of her childhood, when life was far less complicated and demanding.
Before she became aware that her family unit was far from idyllic.
“That’s not how she felt when we were growing up,” Lori confided to Nick as she handed him his glass.
“You needed a lot of work back then,” Suzy deadpanned. “But you let me guide you and you turned out really well.”
“Guide me, ha!” Lori declared with a pseudo- haughty laugh. “I ‘turned out really well’ despite your so called guidance, dear sister, not because of it,” she concluded with a triumphant note.
Nick had no idea if this was headed for a confrontation, or if it was some battle solely based on habitual banter, so he decided to divert the conversation into a different direction.
“This really hit the spot,” he told Lori, holding up his glass after downing half the contents in one long gulp. He hadn’t realized that he was that thirsty until Lori had handed him his lemonade. “Thanks.”
Without turning around, Lori waved her hand over her head as a sign that she’d heard him and appreciated his comment. “My pleasure, Detective,” she said just as she disappeared around the corner.
“So, is that every place?” Nick asked Suzy once he was alone with her again.
She nodded. They’d been through every room, including the nursery and all the bathrooms. “There’s just Peter’s car left—”
That, he thought, turned out to be another dead end. “I already had a crew go over that. They didn’t find anything except that the late sheriff seemed to have a thing for chewing gum. There were a lot of discarded gum wrappers on the floor, both in the front and the back. Maybe he was going for a record in most accumulated gum wrappers.”
She laughed shortly. “Peter tends—tended,” she amended abruptly, correcting herself as she wondered how long it was going to take for her to get used to the idea that Peter was no longer among the living, “to chew gum when he was tense.”
“Whatever he was doing that was making him tense, it was recent,” Nick judged. “The wrappers hadn’t gotten dried out from the sun shining into the vehicle,” he told her. Finished with his lemonade, Nick wanted to get back to work. He rose to his feet then extended his hand to her to help her up.
Ordinarily, she would have ignored the silent offer of help and just gotten up on her own, but there was something about this man, something that made her trust him despite the way she had gotten burned in her marriage. Something that made her want his help. To welcome his touch.
So, placing her hand in his, she allowed Nick to help pull her up.
Taking in and releasing a long, cleansing breath, she looked up at him and asked, “Now what?”
Nick found he had to tear his eyes away from the way Suzy’s chest rose and fell as she drew in that deeper breath.
That was not going to help him keep a clear head here, he upbraided himself silently.
Damn it, he knew better.
“I think I’d like to go over the sheriff’s office one more time, see if we maybe we might have missed something.”
She cocked her head, trying to keep things straight. “You mean Peter’s office in town?”
“No, here,” he corrected. “The FBI guys are taking your husband’s office in town apart piece by piece—most likely not making any points with the new, interim sheriff,” he guessed. “They would have called if something had turned up.”
She nodded. “All right, you go ahead.” Suzy felt her stomach pinch her and she glanced at her watch. “It’s getting late.” As she talked, she started to lead the way downstairs. “I should start getting dinner ready.” Stopping midway down, Suzy looked at him over her shoulder. “Would you like to stay? For dinner, I mean?” she clarified in case he thought she meant anything else.
Distance, you need to keep your distance. “I shouldn’t—” Nick began.
“You have to eat, Nick,” she insisted. She wanted him to understand that there was no need to reject her hospitality because of what had happened between them earlier. “And I promise to let you do it in peace.”
There was a hint of an ironic smile curving Nick’s lips. “You’re not the one I’m concerned about,” he told her.
Suzy stopped at the bottom of the stairs and turned around to look at him again. Amusement had crept into her eyes. “Oh?”
“Yeah, ‘oh,’” was all he allowed himself to say by way of a comment on her reaction.
The truth was he didn’t trust himself. It was almost as if, when he hadn’t been paying attention, he’d undergone a breakdown in self-discipline.
But no matter how it came about, that would end as of this moment. Once was a fluke, not right but forgivable. Twice was the beginning of a pattern—and the end of his career as an impartial officer of law enforcement.
“So, three plates for dinner?” she asked, silently telling him that her sister would be joining them and that Lori would serve as their insurance policy that nothing remotely compromising would happen if he decided to stay for dinner.
She was a good cook and the prospect of heating up a frozen dinner or bringing something home from one of the takeout restaurants in his neighborhood didn’t sound nearly as appealing, so after what amounted to an incredibly short internal debate, he nodded, accepting her invitation.
“Three,” he echoed, then flashed what came across as a tight smile. “Thanks.”
Suzy caught herself grinning in response. She was really pleased the detective was staying.
Maybe it was wrong of her, but she was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel and because of that light, she knew she would get through this ordeal intact.
And it was in large part due to the detective.
“Good—and don’t mention it,” she added as an afterthought.
They parted there, at the bottom of the stairs, each going their own way. She went to the kitchen while he went to give the sheriff’s already carefully examined home office one last once-over.
He’d just walked into the center of the room when his cellphone rang. Nick had it out and against his ear before the second ring had a chance to complete its chimes. “Jeffries.”
He instantly recognized the voice on the other end. It belonged to one of the members of the hastily formed task force, comprised of his men as well as several of the Bureau’s special agents. So far, they seemed to be working rather well together.
“Hope you’re having better luck over there than we are over here, Nick,” Detective Robert Littleton said. “That interim sheriff they appointed, Tony Berretti, wasn’t exactly all that pleased to have us ripping apart what’s now his office.”
“I already figured on that. Just remember, we’re not in the business of pleasing small-time county sheriffs. We’re after bigger things,” Nick reminded Littleton.
Having come up against dead end after dead end, at this point Nick found himself dangerously short on patience. He felt as if his back was against the wall. He bit back a sigh as he dragged one hand through his dark, and at this point, unruly hair.
“Yeah, I know, which is why it would have been great if we had something to show for our efforts, but there’s nothing here to give us so much as a clue that the guy was even thinking about blackmailing the ‘honorable’ senator from Dallas, much less doing it—or blackmailing anyone else.”
Someone called to Littleton and he shouted back that he’d be right there before continuing with his “non-report” to Nick.
“And there’s not a damn incriminating thing on his computer here. It’s just lucky that you got hold of the one that Burris kept at his house,” Littleton told him.
Nick could almost hear the relieved expression echo in the other man’s voice.
“Yeah, lucky,” Nick repeated. But they were going to need something more to corroborate “All right, Littleton, if you’ve got nothing to report, I’m hanging up. I’ll see you later at the office.”
He was about to terminate the connection when he heard Littleton call out to him.
“Um, Boss, if you don’t mind, the guys and I are gonna call it a night and actually go home at six for a change.” Littleton broached the idea slowly to his lead on the case. “My wife’s been complaining a lot lately that I’m not spending enough time with her and the kids. She’s got the kids calling me ‘stranger’ instead of Daddy.”
Nick suppressed a laugh at this piece of information. He kept forgetting that although he had no family, the other men on his team did. He couldn’t fault them for wanting to see them for more than a total of ten minutes a day.
“Fine, I’ll call you if anything comes up,” Nick said, then broke the connection as the man on the other end was thanking him.
He didn’t need gratitude. What he needed was more evidence, something concrete. For all he knew, someone could have doctored Burris’s home computer, planting damning evidence that would turn the dead man into a scapegoat. He needed something else to go on.
Preoccupied, he started to tuck the phone back into his pocket, but he wound up missing his target. The phone slipped from his fingers and fell onto the rug.
Hitting the floor at an angle, the phone bounced twice and wound up landing under Burris’s desk.
All the way under.
“Great,” Nick muttered, biting off a ripe curse in case either Suzy or her sister was passing by and could overhear him.
Getting down on all fours, Nick carefully crawled under the desk to retrieve his phone. The space was crammed and he had to be extra careful to keep from hitting his head.
The phone had landed at the extreme rear of the desk. Nick was forced to snake his way as far back as he was able to go.
He couldn’t help thinking that as a kid, he would have really loved getting under a desk like this one, with only one side opened up the way it was. He would have spent hours playing under it, envisioning the desk to be a dozen different things, not the least of which would have been a cave.
The Bat Cave, Nick decided with an unconscious grin.
And, since he was away from any prying eyes, Nick allowed himself a momentary nostalgic respite as fragments of memories came back to him. Memories of the little boy he’d once been before he’d become disillusioned with the world and found out that nothing ever turned out the way you expected or wanted it to.
But that time was years behind him, Nick reminded himself. Time to act like a responsible adult.
Phone in hand, he began to crawl backward out of the small spot. As he was snaking his way out, he thought he heard a landline ringing. Startled by the unexpected sound—half thinking it was coming from his own phone—he straightened abruptly and raised his head, only to smack it against the bottom of the drawer. Hard.
This time he did curse, although he managed to keep it under his breath, as pain shot through his skull and even vibrated along the bridge of his nose.
Moving carefully back one small “step” at a time, Nick glanced at the underside of the offending drawer to see if he had dented it—or left any blood behind.
And stopped short.
Unless he was hallucinating from the swiftly growing bump that was forming, there was something, a small padded envelope from what he could see, taped to the underside of the drawer.
Holding his breath, Nick began to work at peeling back the strips of tape and separating the envelope from the underside of the drawer.
The clear packing tape that held it in place was strong, which told him it was still relatively new. The weather in the area tended to be humid in the summer. The humidity was strong enough to leave its mark, corroding things like plastic shower curtains and plastic packing tape.
After finally freeing the envelope, Nick resumed backing out from the desk. He made sure not to lift his aching head until he was well clear of the desk. The top of his head was still throbbing from the sudden contact.
“Okay,” he said to the envelope once he was clear and out in the open. “Let’s hope you’re worth this trouble and not just another so-called lead that’s going to go nowhere.”
Ripping the envelope open, he turned it upside down and shook it.
A single, thin, silver key fell at his feet. The paper tag attached to it had a four digit number clearly typed on it.
The kind of number that was used to denote a bank safety deposit box.
Chapter 11
Nick studied the key thoughtfully for a moment, turning it over to see if the name of the bank had been embossed on either side.
He found nothing.
Still, he felt it safe to assume that it was a safety deposit key. He was just going to have to find out which bank housed the box.
Looking at it, he wondered if Suzy knew about the key. Its existence may have slipped her mind in the face of all this turmoil. Or she was deliberately holding back information. All things considered, he was rather a good judge of character, but he wasn’t infallible.
Nick found the sheriff’s widow in the kitchen, whipping up something that smelled incredibly tempting on three of the burners.
Almost as tempting as she was.
He had to get hold of himself. Otherwise, his thoughts would wear him down and there was no telling how he’d wind up acting on these feelings, which kept blindsiding him when he was least prepared.
