Count on a Cop 49 - Julianna Morris Page 6

  “Phillip Stone pretends babies are found under cabbage leaves.”

  She let out a choked laugh. “Yeah. He’ll probably fire me when he finds out I wrote them.”

  “He doesn’t have the authority,” Henry said firmly. “And he can’t afford to offend Max Lawson’s daughter-in-law. Max would run for office again if it meant protecting you, and Phillip knows he wouldn’t stand a chance against Max. Stone only got in because of that midterm election. It was by default and he knows it.”

  Henry wasn’t exaggerating. Her father-in-law had resigned after his son’s death, too devastated to do anything else, but he was still popular.

  “Your mother had a good heart, Kelly. That’s what counts. As for what some people might think…they aren’t worth worrying about. I’m sure the Lawsons are as proud as I am.”

  “They seemed pleased. They don’t need to be concerned, but that hasn’t stopped them from fretting over my future.”

  They chatted a few minutes longer before she said goodbye.

  Henry’s assurances helped. Kelly worried too much about what people thought, but she’d never wanted Mitch or his parents to be embarrassed because of her. The Lawsons had always been kind, though in the beginning they must have wondered what sort of wife their son was getting.

  She’d wondered.

  What had she known about being a wife and member of such a squeaky-clean, American-as-apple-pie family?

  Her cell phone beeped with a text message from Viv. Noon press Conf. Hizonor and Ben had hrt 2 hrt. B hated Hzs last memo.

  Kelly made a face. Ben again.

  And yet a shot of adrenaline went through her. He would undoubtedly reveal her identity as the author of the Deep books. She couldn’t blame him. Being able to say something was better than “no comment.”

  At noon she resolutely walked down to the room where the mayor held his press conferences. Facing the questions directly was the smartest move, but she wasn’t looking forward to it.

  BEN’S EYEBROWS ROSE WHEN he saw Kelly in the back of the room. Her chin tilted defiantly and he was torn between admiration and irritation.

  He’d just finished talking to his uncle about Kelly. Henry’s ire had reached new heights, but he’d eventually calmed down and asked Ben not to say she’d written the Deep books. Henry and Gina weren’t entirely reasonable when it came to Kelly, though they hadn’t needed to worry—there was no point in revealing her identity, and some benefit to keeping it confidential. If someone was copycatting the murders in her novels it was probably for thrills and attention, and Ben didn’t want to feed the situation.

  As usual, there was an awkward moment when the mayor pompously thanked the media for coming and encouraged questions.

  “Police Chief Santoni, what about the autopsies?” queried the reporter from the TV station, starting his question a split second ahead of the correspondent from the Gazette. “Can you tell us what the medical examiner found?”

  The Gazette reporter glared at his counterpart.

  “I can’t release the details,” Ben replied. “It’s critical to keep certain aspects of the investigation confidential.” He focused on the television camera. “I know this community is going through a tough time, but you can be part of solving these crimes. Please come forward with any information you have, however small it seems. We’ve established a twenty-four-hour hotline for your convenience.”

  Ben handled the rest of the questions, trying to alternate between the reporters. The competition was fierce, though they’d already heard most of his answers and must have guessed they weren’t going to hear anything new since the mayor would have announced an arrest himself.

  They didn’t ask if he’d learned more about Griffin Bell, which made it easier to keep quiet. The Sand Point Gazette and local TV station wanted to keep a fire lit under the police to solve the murders and figure out if there was a link to the letters threatening the mayor, but interest in far-fetched conspiracy theories was waning. It was natural. Who wanted to believe dark and dangerous things were happening in their town?

  Ben locked gazes with Kelly at the end, and was amused to see her stunned expression when she realized her precious “privacy” was intact. Hell, he didn’t get it. She’d dreamed of being a famous author when they were kids; why keep it a secret now that her dream was a reality?

  He left the mayor posing for photographs and returned to the station. There was a stack of files on his desk requiring his review and signature. It was becoming painfully obvious that being a police chief meant dealing with mountains of paperwork.

  ON SATURDAY AFTERNOON the scent of baking apples filled the air, and Kelly peeked in the oven at the pies turning golden-brown. The bubbling juice was pink from the cranberries she’d added to perk up the flavor.

  It’s okay, she reassured herself. Gina and Henry often came for dinner, so tonight shouldn’t be that different. The only exception was that she’d deliberately planned a simple menu so Ben wouldn’t think she’d gone to special trouble for him. The thought quirked her lips. She’d been truthful when she’d said she wasn’t angry about the past, but she couldn’t deny a lingering shred of wounded pride over the way he’d left.

  Kelly looked through the kitchen window to check whether anyone was hanging around, a gesture that had become automatic during the past few days. It was Ben’s fault with his evidence bags and photographs and suspicions, but that didn’t get rid of the vague sense of doom hanging over her head.

  When the pies were done she took them out and put them on the counter. She glanced through the window again, in time to see Ben’s Jeep pull into the driveway. Okay, fine. She would try to be the perfect hostess for Henry’s and Gina’s sake.

  Stepping outside, she waved as Henry lifted Toby from the child’s seat in the back of the Jeep and Ben assisted his aunt.

  Instead of the khaki, Sand Point police-uniform Kelly had mostly seen him wearing, today he sported jeans and a white shirt, with the cuffs rolled to his elbow.

  He looked good. Better than good. In her younger days her pulse would have jumped at having such an attractive man to dinner. Now she was cautious. Dealing with Ben was the same as dealing with a sleeping volcano—you never knew what was going on beneath the surface or when it would erupt.

  “Miss Kelly, Miss Kelly. I missed you,” Toby shouted as he ran toward her with typical five-year-old exuberance. He flung himself into her arms and gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek.

  “You missed me? We just saw each other on Sunday.”

  “Sunday’s forever ago,” he said earnestly. “I wanna see you all the time.”

  Kelly kissed the top of his head. “That’s sweet, but Uncle Henry and Aunt Gina want to see you, too, along with your friends. You can’t see me every day. You’re a busy guy.”

  Toby let out a philosophic sigh. “Okay.”

  Gina and Henry each gave her a hug. Kelly saw the wicked humor in Ben’s face as he stepped forward, as well. She glared a warning.

  Had he forgotten the way he’d acted? Accusatory and angry and interrogating her like a murder suspect? Maybe she should have revealed her identity when the Gazette first published an article pointing out the similarities between the real and fictional murders, but it wasn’t all her fault. If she’d felt comfortable telling him in the first place, a lot of trouble might have been avoided.

  Of course, Ben also hadn’t told anyone about her alter ego.

  Darn.

  She hated being fair when it came to Ben. It hadn’t been easy dismissing him from her thoughts since their last argument. He was cynical and had let her down years ago, but he wasn’t such a bad guy. His relationship with Gina and Henry was proof of that. And he’d put his life on the line as a policeman. Gina took care of the bragging in the family and was always sharing newspaper articles about Ben’s valor and the decorations he had received. Doting parents couldn’t have been prouder than the Jeffersons were of their nephew.

  “I’m glad you were able to come to
night,” she said stiffly.

  “Yeah…second to how happy you’d be if I jumped off a cliff.” He said it low, for her ears only.

  She ignored the provocation.

  Toby clung to her as they went inside, chattering about what he’d done the past week. His eyes widened at the sight of Frodo stretched across the floor, and his mouth opened in awe.

  “It’s a tiger.”

  Kelly laughed. “Almost. He’s very nice. You can touch him if you’re gentle.”

  The enormous feline probably seemed every inch a tiger to a child, but Toby boldly walked up and extended his fingers. Frodo, never a slouch in accepting attention, purred and inclined his head. Toby giggled as he tried to pet the cat from ears to tail in a single stroke and could barely reach that far. If he’d tried for the end of Frodo’s tail, he wouldn’t have made it.

  “What do you feed that monster, Miracle-Gro?” Ben asked. He watched his son carefully.

  “He’s a Maine coon. They’re big.”

  “So you bought a purebred. You used to say alley cats were the best.”

  “I didn’t buy him, he was a birthday present.” She had no intention of explaining that Frodo was the last gift Mitch had given her.

  “No one owns a cat,” Gina contributed. “They own us.”

  Toby’s giggles rose as Frodo purred louder. He approved of the youngster. Kelly struggled with another flash of fairness—it spoke well of Ben that his son was so loving and unafraid.

  “I, uh, there are some appetizers on the table. Please help yourselves. I’m going to check on dinner.” She escaped into the kitchen, with Gina close on her heels.

  “Mmm, you made your cranberry-apple pie.” Gina bent over the cooling dessert and inhaled. “This smells fabulous. Where do you get cranberries this time of year? I can only find them between Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

  “I freeze bags and bags of them.”

  “That’s smart. Ben loves pie, but that’s a dessert I can’t get right. I’ve given up trying. My crusts are awful.”

  Kelly gave her a strained smile and Gina sighed.

  “You two aren’t getting along any better, are you? I keep hoping you’ll become friends.”

  “That isn’t likely. We have nothing in common except you and Henry.”

  “I don’t know about that. You’re also both pigheaded. Ben told me about the other night. Why didn’t you say there was a problem when you called?”

  “I had a creepy feeling of being watched, that’s all.” Kelly sprinkled cheese on the garlic bread waiting to be heated. “The murders have put us all on edge. I shouldn’t have bothered you to begin with, and Ben shouldn’t have worried you once he did find out.”

  Gina Jefferson was a beautiful woman who wore her years regally, but at the moment she mostly looked exasperated. “It wasn’t a bother and I’d rather worry than be kept in the dark. We want to be your family, but you only let us do little things for you that don’t really count. Things you could have taken care of yourself.”

  “Gina, please, we’ve been over this before. Besides, Henry got me the job at City Hall. That isn’t little.”

  “You would have gotten it without his help.”

  “But not for any merit on my part. It would have been because of the City Council’s respect for Mitch and his father. That’s how Sand Point operates.”

  “Nonsense. They were lucky to get you and they knew it.”

  Shaking her head, Kelly pulled a pan from the oven. She knew from experience that the less she said, the sooner the subject would be dropped.

  Gina fussed too much.

  So did Henry.

  “You mentioned that Toby likes lasagna, so that’s what I made.”

  Gina pursed her lips, then shrugged. “He loves it, but he’s an accommodating child.”

  “What a difference from Ben. Wouldn’t he only eat hot dogs and spaghetti as a kid?”

  “Lord, that’s right. And sweets were a big hit. Remember the apple fritters you used to bring him? He loved those. If I’d put sugar on steamed broccoli he probably would have eaten it, as well.”

  “Yuck.” Kelly had no intention of saying anything about apple fritters or the way she’d brought them to Ben.

  “I guess indulging Ben didn’t hurt him,” Gina continued fondly. “He eats fruits and vegetables now, and makes sure Toby has a balanced diet. He’s doing a wonderful job raising Toby alone.”

  Kelly brushed her hand over her abdomen, then let it drop. She and Mitch had planned to have a family, but they’d believed they had plenty of time. Waiting was one of the things she regretted most.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask about Toby’s mother. What sort of woman let her child move a thousand miles away? If she was Ben’s ex-wife, he would have faced the fight of his life to get custody. But then, fighting with Ben wasn’t new; a marriage between them wouldn’t have lasted long enough to even talk about children, much less argue over custody in a divorce.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “THE MAYOR IS JUST COVERING his ass.”

  “It doesn’t make him less annoying,” Ben said, listening to both his uncle and the discussion going on in the kitchen. He’d perfected the art of following simultaneous conversations during his months as an undercover cop. It was a useful skill.

  Henry grinned. “Nothing makes Phillip Stone less annoying. No longer having to deal with him makes retirement that much more attractive.”

  “Yeah, and then you got me to apply for the job so I have to deal with him.”

  “Not for long. He won’t be reelected.”

  “With any luck.” But Ben wasn’t convinced. He and Henry might have a low opinion of the mayor, but that didn’t mean the voters agreed. Stone was a bureaucratic pain behind closed doors; he presented a different face to the public. On top of that, he was getting sympathetic media coverage due to the death threats against him.

  Another letter had arrived that afternoon and was on its way to the state crime-lab. The writer was bound to slip up eventually and leave evidence behind. In the meantime it was a sure bet that the newspaper already knew about the latest threat and would publish a story on it tomorrow. But was the mayor leaking the information, or was it coming from another source? Ben’s money was on the mayor.

  “Appointing his brother police chief didn’t endear the mayor to anyone,” Henry said. “It was a huge political mistake.”

  “So it seems. I’ve yet to meet Frank Stone, but I haven’t heard anything good about him.”

  “You’ll run into him one of these days. He used to manage his family’s auto repair shop until they sold it and divvied up the proceeds. Now he’s got business interests in Portland and Seattle, so he isn’t always in town.”

  In the other room Aunt Gina was saying something about the doughnuts Kelly used to feed him. Ben’s mouth watered at the memory of apple fritters, crisp and warm from the fryer. The SP Donut Hut was a local landmark; no one could compete with their products.

  He ate a cracker heaped with blue cheese. A chivalrous man wouldn’t have accepted Kelly’s dinner invitation, knowing it had only been extended because she’d asked his aunt and uncle. Yet it was an excuse to return and inspect the house without being too obvious.

  Oh, well. At least Kelly seemed glad to see Toby.

  It was awkward, though. She’d barely spoken to him, and had escaped into the kitchen at the earliest opportunity.

  “We should look outside while it’s light,” Henry suggested. “See if there’s anything else to discover.”

  “Good idea.”

  The grass was trampled in a wider area, and more twigs from the bush were broken. A new mix of sandy shoe prints were also on the driveway, similar to the ones he had seen before. Henry obligingly displayed his boots so Ben could eliminate them as the source. He knew he hadn’t left the prints himself; they were nothing like the soles of his high-tops.

  A fleck of silver paper caught his attention and he picked it up with a pair of tweezers. I
t smelled faintly of spearmint. While it could have blown in from the street, Ben had a strong conviction it was a bit of gum wrapper, accidentally dropped by a trespasser.

  “Inconclusive,” Henry muttered, frowning.

  “You didn’t expect a sign announcing ‘I Was Here,’ did you?” Ben asked.

  “Nope.” Ants were working on the greasy spot of sandy soil that Ben had noticed on his previous visit. Henry dug into the dirt and then sniffed his fingers. “You thought it smelled like coffee, right?”

  “And maybe a little bourbon. We’re waiting for confirmation from the lab. That said, Kelly is sure there’s an innocent explanation.”

  “What do you think?”

  Ben hesitated. His instincts had saved his life more than once. “My gut tells me something is going on, and we do have that report of someone hanging around the street.”

  Henry brushed the dirt from his fingers. “No matter what she says now, Kelly wouldn’t have called the other night unless she was really spooked. Let’s keep looking.”

  They split up, going over every inch of ground until Gina stepped outside and waved at them. “Guys, dinner’s ready.”

  “Didn’t find a thing,” Henry muttered as they headed into the house.

  “That could mean Kelly is right and there isn’t a problem,” Ben observed as they washed up in the powder room. “But I’ll order extra patrols through the neighborhood, just in case.”

  “We thought you’d abandoned us,” Gina declared when they arrived in the dining room. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “Starved.” Henry kissed his wife and whispered something in her ear.

  “Um, good. Kelly fixed too much, as usual.”