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One Little Lie Page 3


  Jane froze and fought the tears forming. Olivia needed her to be strong right now, to help her get through this. “Oh, Olivia.”

  Tears hung on Olivia’s lashes. “I know. It’s overwhelming. I haven’t told Megan yet. Would you be with me when I tell her?”

  “Of course.”

  Megan was fourteen and had been a baby when Olivia’s husband died. The two were very close, and this would hit Megan hard. “Have you thought about what to say? Maybe she doesn’t have to know all the details.”

  Olivia shook her head. “I’ve got a lot of peace about it. I can’t lie to her, and she has to be prepared for the worst. What if I only live the average of three years? Megan would not even be out of high school.”

  Olivia’s parents were missionaries to Cambodia, and Chris’s parents lived in Canada. They only saw Megan every four or five years, and she wasn’t close to any of them.

  Jane squeezed Olivia’s hand more tightly. “I’ll take care of her, no matter what. You just concentrate on getting through what you have to do. I’ll research and see what I can find out about how to beat it.”

  “You promise you’ll take care of her? She’s got no one but me.”

  “I promise.”

  The clouds cleared in Olivia’s blue eyes. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to work. Right now the muscle weakness isn’t major, but that could change at any time.”

  “We’ll figure it out a day at a time.” Jane’s mind whirled with thoughts of how to help. She could bring in food and help Megan with schoolwork. She could take Olivia to and from doctor visits too.

  “Stop it.”

  “What?”

  “Quit thinking you have to fix this. This is above your pay grade. You can walk with me through it, but you can’t change it. I know how you get. You take the weight of the world on your shoulders and try to micromanage everything. That works great for your job, but it’s impossible when it comes to something like this.”

  “Why you?” Jane blurted out. “Why would your God let something like this happen when you do so much for him and others? You’ve taken in how many kids from the streets in the past five years?”

  “Seven,” Olivia mumbled.

  “Seven. And one of them stole from you.”

  “And six of them are doing fine now. Those are pretty good odds.”

  “Exactly. So why punish you?”

  Olivia tightened her grip on Jane’s hand. “Life isn’t supposed to be all moonlight and roses, Jane. We’re just here developing our character. And none of us get through this life without facing death. It comes to everyone. I’m just not ready to leave Megan.”

  “And your character is pretty darned great. I’d like to tell God what I think of the way he treats his servants. You’re the best, Olivia. It’s not fair.”

  Olivia’s smile emerged then, a real smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes and stretched across her face. “Hey, I call it progress that you actually want to talk to him, even if you are mad.”

  Jane rose and paced the gray tile of her office. “I still think it’s the wrong diagnosis. This makes no sense.”

  Olivia stood and grabbed Jane in a hug. “Life sometimes doesn’t,” she whispered in her ear. “That’s what faith is all about.”

  Faith wasn’t something Jane could wrap her head around. How did you trust something you couldn’t see?

  * * *

  He kept hearing Lauren’s threatening voice in his head. Reid stripped off his wet clothes and stepped into the shower. He wished he could wash off his worries as easily as he did the briny odor of the sea.

  Clean and with the scent of Dial soap in his nose, he toweled off, then pulled on shorts and a T-shirt before he wandered back to the living room to find Will. This place was just a rental, and it showed. The walls were still without pictures. The place overlooked the Bon Secour River and had the barest of furnishings. Will deserved better, but Reid had only planned to be here long enough to satisfy his curiosity about Jane Hardy. That investigation had started this morning with coffee.

  The bigger problem was, what was he going to do about Lauren? The more he’d thought about it, the more he worried that paying her off wasn’t the right answer. Her insatiable nature would bring her back for more and more demands.

  If only he had someone to talk to about this, but he didn’t dare voice his predicament. Not if he wanted to keep this from Will. And he’d checked his accounts. There was no way he could get that much actual cash without dipping into his 401k.

  He trailed through the living room to the big screened-in porch overlooking the river and dropped into a chair by his son. “You order lunch?”

  Will nodded. “I ordered some po’boys and crab bisque. Food should be here in half an hour.”

  Reid didn’t like to cook, though he tried most days because Will shouldn’t live on restaurant food, but it felt like too much today. “Sounds good.”

  He listened to the frogs croaking and insects chirping out on the river. A splash just off the pier came right after the roar of a bull alligator. The solitude out here usually soothed him, but he was jumping at every sound. He didn’t trust Lauren, not one bit. In spite of their agreement she was apt to show up on their doorstep at a moment’s notice. If she’d gotten his phone number, he was sure she’d managed to find his residence too.

  The unpleasant scenario played out in his head. Will’s shock and hurt. Lauren’s smug smile and fake sympathy. Reid’s own feelings of abandonment.

  He’d never been enough for her, and he’d tried so hard. She used him just like his dad. No matter how hard he’d tried to live up to his father’s standards, he’d fallen short. Every time. If his dad were still alive, would he be proud of the work Reid had done? Probably not.

  “You okay, Dad?”

  Reid snapped out of his thoughts and managed to shrug. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

  Will rose and walked to the windows to look out on the slow-moving black water. “I like it here, Dad.” He turned to Reid. “What if we didn’t go back to New Orleans?”

  Reid studied his boy’s pleading gaze. “What’s brought this on?”

  “The football camp is really cool, and the other guys are including me in everything. It’s a slower pace here. Not so busy.”

  The pinch of the kid’s guilt card was enough to make Reid listen. “What about your friends back home?”

  Will shrugged. “What about them? It’s not like New Orleans is Mars. They can come visit, or I could visit them.”

  But they wouldn’t. Relationships were fragile at this age. And Will had already been making friends here. He’d gone over to a friend’s house to lift weights three nights this past week.

  “I know I’m asking a lot.” Will’s voice was tentative. “I mean, you probably want to get back to Miss Saunders.”

  Reid had dated Will’s French teacher a few times, but he couldn’t say he really missed Amanda. They’d talked a few times in the past month, but it wasn’t anything serious. Nothing was really keeping them in Louisiana. He could make trips for his documentaries when needed, just like he did now. Mobile’s airport was close. And like Will said, New Orleans wasn’t that far.

  When Reid didn’t say anything, Will turned away to look at the river again. “You don’t have to answer now. Just think about it, okay?”

  Love swelled in Reid’s chest. When had Will become so adult that he didn’t push? “I don’t have to think about it. If you want to stay here, I’m game. I like having more time with you, and you’ll be off to college before I can blink. I’ll put the house up for sale, and we’ll search for something here. Now that you’re older, you can travel with me more too.”

  Will swung back around, a grin spreading across his face. “This house is for sale. We could buy it.”

  “We could.” His job paid very well. “I’ll call and see if we can come to an agreement on price.”

  And just like that, life shifted even further. But his biggest problem could still walk ri
ght in that front door. “Tomorrow is your last day of football camp. Want to hang with your old man the rest of your spring break?”

  “You bet!”

  Reid never took his son’s love for granted. Will was a great kid—the best. Reid kept waiting for him to turn into the proverbial teenage monster, but it had never happened and he was grateful.

  The doorbell rang, and Will turned. “I’ll get it. It’s probably our lunch.”

  Logically Reid knew Will was right, but he imagined his boy opening the door to Lauren. “I’ll do it. I’ll need to pay for it.”

  He only relaxed when through the front door window he saw a young delivery guy. Was this what life would become—a knot in his stomach every time someone came to the door or called? He should have hung up the moment he’d heard Lauren’s voice.

  No one can dance to the devil’s tune and expect to survive. He had to call her and tell her any deal was off.

  Will held out his hands for the food, and Reid drank in the sight of his face. The boy might have to hear the truth. But not today.

  Reid picked up a po’boy. “After lunch I’m going to run into town and get started on my documentary. You okay here or you want to come?”

  “I’ll stay here. I thought I might fish from the pier.”

  “Watch out for gators. There seem to be a lot around.”

  Will rolled his eyes. “Dad, I’m not five.”

  “Point taken.”

  Reid scarfed down his sandwich and soup. The sheriff would hit the roof when she realized why he was here. He’d wanted to tell her about the documentary over coffee, but it was clear the mayor hadn’t spoken to her.

  Four

  Jane parked her SUV in the driveway behind the flashing lights of a patrol vehicle and got out, the rising sun glaring into her gritty eyes. The call to investigate another body had sent her straight to her vehicle without a shower. Two bodies in twenty-four hours . . . Was she really equipped for this job?

  She let Parker out of the back before she walked toward the shotgun house with its neat spring flower beds lining either side of the red front door. She spotted a woman standing off to one side with her arms clutched around her. It was probably the neighbor who’d made the 911 call, and Jane would talk to her next.

  A figure moved in the brush at the side of the house, and she caught the shine of something metallic. A gun? She pointed at the bush. “Take down, Parker!”

  Her dog’s ears flicked forward, and he bounded for the line of vegetation. The leaves shook as the person tried to escape the dog’s attack, but Parker was an experienced K-9 officer, and his bark coupled with the man’s yell for help told her the prey was on the ground. Most goldens weren’t used for protection, but Parker was large for his breed at ninety pounds and had easily learned how to protect her.

  She pulled her gun and hurried into the shadow of the trees, where she found Parker’s paws firmly planted on a man’s chest. She immediately recognized him as the man who’d invited her for coffee yesterday morning. Reid Dixon. She didn’t see a weapon on him, but a video camera was tangled in the brush.

  She holstered her gun. “Release, Parker.”

  The dog got off Reid and returned to her side. “Good boy.” She narrowed her eyes at Reid as he stood. “What are you doing here?”

  He brushed dust and debris from his tan slacks. “The mayor has given me permission to follow you around for the next few weeks, Chief. I’m doing a documentary on small-town police departments. You’re one of the few female police chiefs around, so I’ll be focusing the bulk of my video on you.”

  So that’s why he’d sought her out in town. Heat rushed to her cheeks. “That’s not possible. Lisa would have told me. I want you to leave.”

  “Call her yourself.” He glanced at Parker, who was staring him down. “I’m okay, buddy. I’m not going to hurt her.” The dog showed no signs of relaxing.

  It was only five in the morning, but Jane had no choice but to check out his story. She called the mayor and moved out of earshot. “Lisa, there’s a journalist here who claims he has permission to follow me around. This is a crime scene. He shouldn’t be here.”

  “I told you there might be some news interest in your appointment.” Lisa’s voice was groggy with sleep. “He’s very well known, Jane. It’s a great opportunity for Pelican Harbor.”

  “You knew this when you appointed me, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but I didn’t think he would show up so fast. He called last week, and I knew he’d be even more interested in doing a documentary when he found out we had a female chief.”

  “So this was all a publicity ploy for the town? I don’t want to do it.”

  “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice. It’s only for a few weeks, and it’s great exposure for us.”

  Her hard tone told Jane that arguing wouldn’t get her anywhere other than fired. She ended the call and glared at Reid.

  He had retrieved his video camera and was taping. She wanted to grab it and smash it to the ground. “No cameraman? I assumed you’d have a crew.”

  “I usually have a cameraman, but I had to let him go and haven’t found another one yet.”

  The skin on her back prickled. She hated being photographed. It was going to be a long two weeks. “Stay out of my way.”

  She left him and walked toward the house. The crime scene was in the middle of the yard, and Jane’s detectives had already roped it off with yellow tape.

  A naked woman’s body sagged in rough stocks, and she was covered in feathers sticking to some kind of black substance. Tarred and feathered like some kind of medieval punishment. A crudely painted sign with the word Homewrecker was attached to the stocks with one rusty nail.

  Jane winced. Nicole Pearson. She’d always liked Nicole, who was about her own age and never seemed to know a stranger.

  The vigilante again? If so, the stakes had been raised to murder.

  She approached Paul. “What do you have so far?”

  “A neighbor called it in.” He indicated a woman sitting with her back to them near the trees. “She showed up to go to breakfast with Nicole.”

  He didn’t even try to hide the snark in his voice. He’d heard the news about her new job title, but nothing would make him congratulate her. She ignored his tone and approached the scene.

  Robert Yong was kneeling by the body, and she stepped next to the ME. “I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.”

  “This one will need to be transported to Mobile too. It appears she died of asphyxiation, but it will take an autopsy to know for sure.”

  “Asphyxiation? Strangled?”

  Yong rose and shook his head. “She might have been allergic to the feathers. She’s covered in hives, and it’s a common enough allergy.”

  “So the vigilante might not have meant to kill her.”

  “Maybe not. Whoever did this could have tarred and feathered her, then left her to be found and humiliated. She could have had an anaphylactic attack and been unable to breathe.”

  Jane looked again at the woman’s face. “This is Nicole Pearson. She works at the library.”

  “Yes, I recognized her too.”

  Jane stepped over to talk to Brian. “See if you can get in the house. We need her phone and any electronics. Anything else you find that might point to who did this.”

  “I’ll take care of it, Chief.”

  “I’d better talk to the witness.”

  * * *

  Jane moved across the wet grass to the woman. “You’re Gail Briscoe?” She didn’t recognize the woman or the name, which was surprising in their small community, but maybe she was a newcomer. A brunette in her early thirties, the woman wore spandex capris and a sleeveless top that showed off muscular arms.

  Gail’s green eyes were wide. “Have they taken her yet?”

  “They’re putting her in the van shortly.” Jane moved around so Gail didn’t have to face the house and the gruesome scene in the yard. “How do you know Nicole Pears
on?”

  Color flooded Gail’s face. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry to say she is. Were you friends?”

  Gail nodded. “I moved to the neighborhood last month, and we met at the library my first day in town. We made plans to go jogging before breakfast this morning, which is why I’m here.”

  “Any idea who might have done this? Or why?”

  Gail’s gaze darted away, then rested on the toes of her Adidas sneakers. “I might know the why.” Her hand went to her throat. “Not to judge her or anything, but she was seeing a married guy. The sleazebag’s wife is eight months pregnant, and they have a two-year-old as well.” She gave an outraged huff.

  “Did his wife know?”

  “I don’t know. I saw them together at the library once.”

  Jane nodded. “Do you know the man’s name?”

  Gail’s lip curled. “Detective Paul Baker.”

  Jane struggled to maintain a neutral expression as her gaze went to Baker, who was helping load Nicole’s body into the medical examiner’s van. Baker should have told her immediately.

  “Thank you. I’ll check it out. Did you see anyone hanging around? Any vehicles?”

  Gail shook her head. “No one was here when I found her. I touched her and realized she was cold so I-I called 911 immediately.”

  “You did the right thing. Let me know if you think of anything else.” Jane was itching to berate Baker, but she was all too conscious of that blasted video camera taping. She turned her back on Reid.

  Baker approached Jane.

  Camera or no camera, she couldn’t let this ride. “I hear you were sleeping with the victim, Paul. You should have turned over the investigation immediately.”

  He blanched and clenched his meaty fists. “Who told you a story like that?”

  Jane knew guilt when she saw it plastered on his face. “All it would take is a strand of hair or a speck of body fluid, and your DNA will appear on her. You might as well tell me the truth. When did you see her last?”