“Um…okay. That just might work,” I said. All at once my shoulders relaxed and the tightness in my chest subsided. “Wow, I feel better.” Just then, the waitress brought our food, and the smell didn’t nauseate me like I thought it would.
“Good,” Ramos said. “You ready to eat?”
“Yes, I am.” I couldn’t eat much, but I managed to get some of it down and felt better for it. Soon we were done, and it was time to go.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” I told Ramos. “It was good to get away.”
“You bet,” he said. “We’ll find this guy.”
“I hope so. What about the key? Should we take it back to Jordan?”
“No. I think we should stay away from her.”
“Do you think the police will question her?” I asked. “Because if they do she’ll probably tell them all about our visit. That would be very bad.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but there’s not much we can do about it now.” He was thinking we could always kill her, but he certainly didn’t want to do that.
“Heavens no!” I said, shock pouring through me. My outrage turned to chagrin when he chuckled. “I don’t think that’s a joking matter.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” he said, instantly contrite. “So I think if the police question you or me about the key, we should tell them we were going to check the safe, but there was an alarm going off in the house, so we split. Sound good?”
“Yeah, okay,” I agreed. They wouldn’t believe me, but it was better than nothing.
“You could always tell them we took a drive up here. The waitress will remember us. Then we’ll be off the hook for that at least.”
“No way, that will make me look bad, as in ‘cheating on my husband’ bad.”
“That’s exactly why it will work, because it’s something you wouldn’t want anyone to know, which makes knowing it sound legit.”
I sighed and closed my eyes, ready to hit my head against the table. This was not making me feel any better. “Whatever…we’ll just have to see what happens.”
“In the meantime, I’ll track down the killer, and you’ll be off the hook. You won’t even need to worry about anyone finding out about ‘us.’” He said that last part with a teasing smile, and I smiled back.
“Then we’d better go so you can get to work.” I said.
I enjoyed the ride back. The warm glow of Ramos’ offer sustained me for a little while. Then the closer we got to the city, the more anxious I became. Some of that was probably because when three-thirty approached, my internal clock went off, reminding me I wasn’t home where I should be when my kids got there. I hadn’t left a note or sent a text or anything. It was too hard to get my phone out of my purse on the bike, so I tried not to worry about it too much. Around four I couldn’t take it anymore and finally asked Ramos to pull over so I could send a quick text to my kids, telling them I would be home later.
I noticed a few voicemails waiting for me, and scrolling through them, saw a couple from Dimples. I wondered what he wanted, but decided not to listen to them in front of Ramos. If it was bad news, I just didn’t want to know.
We were nearly to Thrasher Development when my stomach started to churn with stress, probably because of the messages from Dimples. Maybe I should have listened, just so I’d know if I should go home or leave the country with Ramos. Not that I really would, but what if he was ready to arrest me? What would happen then?
I sighed, knowing I couldn’t do anything rash without giving Ramos a chance to find the thief, even if his methods seemed somewhat far-fetched. Ramos pulled into his parking spot and I wearily got off the bike. I took off my helmet and jacket while Ramos opened the trunk of his car and stashed everything inside.
“I’m just going to get home,” I said. “You’ll let Uncle Joey know what happened, right?”
“Sure babe. I’ll call you when I catch the guy.” He was thinking he’d enjoy beating the shit… His sharp gaze turned to me and he shrugged. “Um…see ya.”
I said goodbye and hurried to my car, eager to get home and out of sight. Before I drove away, I decided to listen to my voicemails from Dimples just to get it over with. His less than chipper voice asking me to call him a.s.a.p. sent little stabs of pain into my stomach. I wanted to put it off, but the stress of wondering what he wanted was killing me, and knowing what he had to say couldn’t be worse than what I was thinking, right? He picked up on the first ring, like he’d been waiting for my call.
“Hi Dimples, it’s me. What did you need?”
“Where are you?” he asked.
“On my way home. Why?”
“Where have you been?” I didn’t answer right away and he swore under his breath. “Did you break into Killpack’s house?”
“What? No!” I said. Since we’d used a key it wasn’t considered breaking in. “I didn’t. Why? What’s going on?”
He sighed loudly. “Someone broke into Killpack’s house and took something out of his safe. The only reason we found out about it was because the house alarm went off and a neighbor called us.” He sighed again, showing his distress. “It chaps my hide that we missed the safe when we did our sweep of the house. It might have contained what we needed to exonerate you, and now it’s gone.”
Now it was my turn to sigh. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s not.”
My breath caught. “You’re not ready to arrest me, are you?”
“No. Bates is breathing down my neck, but we’re not quite there yet. Just…be careful, and don’t do anything rash, like leave the country or anything. All right?”
“Um…sure,” I said. “Call me if you find anything, or you know…if you’re going to arrest me. I’d like to prepare my family.”
“Sure Shelby, I will.”
I disconnected, feeling worse than ever, and all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and hide. If I didn’t get some good news soon, I’d think there was no way out of this. Not when Dimples sounded so sure he was going to arrest me sometime in the near future.
I got home and tried to spend some quality time with my kids. They distracted me for a little while, but they had their own stuff to do, so I hurried into the kitchen to make dinner. I opened the refrigerator door several times, but couldn’t seem to find anything in there worth fixing. Totally depressed, I decided to order a pizza and forget about making dinner. Besides, I didn’t have an appetite, and just thinking about food made my stomach a little queasy.
Needing a distraction, I picked up the novel I was currently reading. After a few sentences of not comprehending a word, I set it down and took out my notebook. There had to be some clue I was missing. Something that was probably staring me right in the face and I hadn’t seen because it was too close. All I came up with were two words. Damn and hell. Not much help there.
Chris came in, and I hurried to wrap him in the biggest hug I could, needing his arms to hold me tight. “Bad day?” he asked.
“Yes. Please tell me you have some good news, because it looks like they’re about to arrest me for murder.”
“Really? How do you know?”
“Dimples told me it didn’t look good and not to leave town.”
“That’s bad,” Chris agreed. “Well, I didn’t find much, only that Jim’s attorneys have exhausted all avenues of appeal for a stay of execution. All that’s left is going to the governor. The only problem with that is the need to have concrete proof of some kind that will cast doubt on his guilt. It has to be something that wasn’t included in the trial.”
“Then we should find the janitor. He thought someone else was there and never said anything. Don’t you think that should count?”
“I don’t know. At this point it might not be enough.”
My throat got tight, and a chill ran down my spine. “What if that happens to me?” I had to ask. “They have some pretty good evidence that I killed Killpack. They have the gun that killed him with my fingerprints on it, and I was at the scene of
the crime close to the time of death. What if I get sentenced to die just like Jim? He’s innocent Chris. He didn’t kill her, and yet he’s going to die for it. That’s just so wrong. But it also means the same thing could happen to me.”
“I will never let that happen,” Chris said, rubbing my arms soothingly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you from going to prison. I’ll even send you somewhere out of the country if I have to. Heck, we’ll all go.” It reminded him of that movie with Russell Crowe where he got his wife out of prison and they escaped across the border together with their kids.
“You’d do that?” I asked.
“Sure,” he shrugged. “But I don’t think it will come to that. Somebody killed him and we’ll find out who it is. We’ll figure this out.”
Should I tell him that Ramos also offered to take me out of the country too? Hmm…probably not a good idea.
“So what happened today that’s got you upset?” he asked.
I told him all about the ledger and how I went to Killpack’s house with Ramos and found the safe booby-trapped to the house alarm. “It was awful. We barely made it out of there before the police came. Then I got a call from Dimples, asking if I’d broken into Killpack’s house. I told him no and he told me not to leave town and that things looked bad for me.”
From Chris’ thoughts, I knew he was still stuck on the ‘breaking into Killpack’s house with Ramos’ part, so I quickly went on. “Ramos thinks the person who broke into the house before us is the killer who also has the safe-cracking skills of a thief. He’s also probably working for the judge. He must have taken the ledger because it would have had the name of the judge in it. So now Ramos is going to see if he can find out who the thief is from his contacts.”
“Okay… so did you really break into his house?” Chris asked.
“No. Absolutely not! The former secretary had a spare key and she loaned it to us. She broke her leg in an accident. So anyway, we didn’t break in.”
“But you visited the secretary and she loaned you the key?”
“Uh-huh,” I agreed.
“Do the police know that?” He was thinking I was toast.
“No. When Dimples called he thought I’d broken in because a neighbor called the police on account of the alarm going off. So no one’s talked to the secretary about me, and they probably won’t.”
“Why?” This alarmed Chris. “Ramos isn’t going to…you know…take care of her is he?”
“No,” I said, my shoulders drooping in an irritated huff. “Of course not.”
Chris did a mental head-smack. How one person could get into so much trouble astounded him clear to his toes. He should be used to this by now, but it seemed like every time I went anywhere that had to do with Uncle Joey, I wound up either getting shot at, kidnapped, or in this case, accused of murder. It was enough to give him an ulcer. He didn’t see a clear way out of this, and that bothered him more than anything. He was the big-shot lawyer. He was supposed to figure this out and protect me, but things just kept getting worse.
He glanced at me, knowing I’d heard all of that and did another mental head-smack. Now he had to worry that he’d just made me feel worse than I already did. Maybe it would be easier to grab a few things, cash out our savings, and leave the country. It would solve a lot of problems, and we could be happy somewhere else. No Manetto. No murder charges… and no Ramos. Visions of moving to an island somewhere and living like The Robinson Family in a big tree house floated through his mind.
“Christopher,” I said, snapping him out of it. “That’s not helping. Let’s go over the facts. There’s got to be something we can do.”
“The facts…all right,” he said, gathering his thoughts. “You’re innocent. So there’s got to be a way to prove it. Finding the real killer has got to be our number one priority.”
“Right,” I agreed. “Ramos is working on the thief end. Uncle Joey’s been working on the judge end. You’ve been working on the tie-to-Jim end, which actually seems like a dead end right now, and I’ve been working on all the ends.”
“Uh-huh,” Chris agreed, thinking I was grasping at straws with that statement, but I was desperate, so he’d overlook it. “Here’s what we know. We know Killpack was investigating Rebecca Morris’ murder and was probably killed for it. But why you were framed doesn’t make sense. There’s got to be another element we’re missing, and once we figure out what it is, we’ll be that much closer to the killer.”
“Well, that’s easy,” I said, eager to prove I wasn’t as stupid as he thought. “The other element is Uncle Joey. He’s why I went to visit Killpack. So it’s got to have something to do with Uncle Joey, Killpack, Jim, Rebecca, and me. What do we all have in common?”
“I don’t know,” Chris said. His stomach growled, and he thought that maybe if he ate something, he wouldn’t get that ulcer he was sure had to be starting. He wanted to ask what was for dinner, but held back, knowing that would upset me.
Just then, the doorbell rang. “Pizza,” I said. “That’s what’s for dinner.”
He smiled sheepishly. “Great. I’ll go get it.”
I hurried into the kitchen to set the table, but stopped short to hear some loud voices coming from the living room. Was Chris arguing with the poor pizza guy? The plate I held slipped from my fingers and crashed to the floor. The words, “warrant,” and “arrest,” flooded my whole body with fear.
Somehow, Chris managed to keep them outside on the porch, while he hurried toward me. His eyes held a desperate look I’d never seen before. “Don’t worry, Shelby,” he said. “I’ll get you out on bail. If not tonight, at least by tomorrow morning.”
“What? No! Dimples promised he’d call. They can’t be here now. Chris, don’t let them take me.” I couldn’t help it, tears flooded my eyes. I wrapped my arms around him like an anchor, thinking that if I wouldn’t let go, they couldn’t take me anywhere.
“Shelby,” Chris said. “You have to go.” It was killing him to say that, but he needed me to be strong. “They have a warrant. I can’t stop this from happening. But you can do this. I’ll be right behind you. I’ll follow you to the station. You won’t be there alone, I promise.”
“Okay,” I said. “Please tell the kids…I didn’t do it…and make sure they’re okay before you come.”
“I will,” he promised.
A loud pounding on the door sent shards of panic through me, but I didn’t want to make a scene in front of my kids. I moved toward the door clutching Chris for support, hoping my kids didn’t come in to see what was going on. If I took one look at them I knew I would lose it, and right now I couldn’t let that happen.
Chris pulled open the door and I stepped out, not too surprised to see Detective Bates standing there. I only knew the other detective in passing, but at least he had the sense to hang his head a little when I glanced at him.
Detective Bates took my arm and slapped a handcuff on my wrist, pulling both arms behind me. “You have the right to remain silent…” he began. I glanced at Chris as they tugged me away.
“Don’t say a word without me there,” Chris called.
“I won’t, but you’d better call Uncle…my uncle,” I said. “He’s got friends. Promise me you’ll call him.”
Chris didn’t want to. He was thinking he’d be damned if he called the person responsible for all this. But another glance at me convinced him that it was something he needed to do. He knew Manetto had connections he could only dream of.
“Chris!” I called.
“I will,” he said.
Chapter 11
They opened the back door to the police cruiser and pushed me inside. Detective Bates even leaned over and attached my seat belt. He was thinking that he had to play this by the book or I’d get off on a technicality, and he didn’t want that to happen. He was pretty sure I was guilty, and as long as he didn’t look at me, he was convinced he’d done the right thing.
I sniffed, trying to keep from crying, and focused my energ
y on listening to Bates. The other detective felt guilty as hell, and so did Bates a little. That’s why he kept going over the evidence in his mind and couldn’t help the small doubt that it was enough. He hoped he hadn’t jumped the gun. He probably should have gotten a search warrant for my computer and cell phone first, just to be sure of the connection to the murder. But dammit, with all the evidence against me, he couldn’t stand the thought of not arresting me. The only bad part was knowing Harris was going to flip. But seriously, Harris shouldn’t be involved in this case anyway.
His thoughts circled around like this for the entire ride downtown to the station. By then, I had calmed down enough to know there were still some big holes in his theory about my guilt. He really wanted to question me and decided to put me in the interrogation room for a chat before booking me, just in case he could goad me into saying something. But he’d have to do it quick before my husband got there.
We arrived at the station and drove to the back through a chain link fence where I’d never been before. This was the ‘prisoner’ entrance, and Bates parked the car near the door and quickly got out. He unbuckled my seat belt and helped me out. He had decided to be as gentle as possible and show me some respect. That way I’d be more inclined to confide in him.
“I’m really sorry to bring you in like this,” he began. “I know it’s probably a big shock, but we’ll make this as easy as possible. I’m the first to admit I’d hate to go through this, but don’t you worry, we’ll make sure you’re comfortable until we get things straightened out.”
He expected me to tell him thanks, so when I didn’t say anything, he frowned and caught my gaze with a questioning glance. I knew I should probably tell him thanks just to play along, but I wasn’t feeling very charitable toward him and kept my mouth shut instead.
He marched me past the intake door and into an interrogation room. “Let me get those cuffs off,” he said. I turned around so he could undo the handcuffs and automatically rubbed my wrists after they came off.
“Here, take a seat.” He pulled out a chair for me and after I was seated, sat down across the table from me. “We know you were there when Sam Killpack died,” he began.