One Little Lie Page 8

  Sometimes life threw a curveball. They’d all have to learn to adapt.

  * * *

  Jane entered the Pelican Harbor city limits with her siren blaring and her bubblegum lights flashing. How could the FBI think her father was a criminal? He lived and breathed law enforcement.

  She parked in back of city hall and paused only long enough to let Parker do his business in the dog area. She swiped her card at the door, then headed for her office with her dog on her heels.

  She dropped into the worn leather chair at her dad’s desk—no, her desk. Feeling at home in the sunken spot left by her dad’s bulky form was going to take some time. The office still smelled like him too—a mixture of Old Spice, donuts, and coffee. Though he’d rarely uttered a word of praise for her, she loved and respected him. He’d served his town for too many years to see it all crumble from false charges.

  Jane turned on her computer and ran a search. Before the results came up, a tap sounded on her door. Elizabeth stood in the open doorway. She wore a strained expression. “Can I talk to you?”

  Jane rose. “Shut the door behind you. I don’t want this news to get out until it has to.” Elizabeth must have jumped in the car right behind Jane to have gotten here so quickly.

  Elizabeth closed the door, and Jane stepped around her desk. She wished she could hug Elizabeth, but Jane never liked being touched, a holdover from her other life. She gestured toward one of the chairs. “What’s he charged with?”

  Elizabeth perched on the edge of the chair. “They say he stole all kinds of things from the evidence room, then sold them and pocketed the money. There’s another bank account where he’s deposited the money in amounts under ten thousand dollars to evade detection. At least that’s what the FBI claims.”

  “We both know that’s not possible. Dad is the straightest shooter I know. He doesn’t even know how to tell a lie.”

  A shadow flickered in Elizabeth’s brown eyes, and she looked down at her hands. “Everyone has secrets, Jane. I don’t know what to think.”

  “Don’t you even dare consider the charges might be true! You know better.”

  Elizabeth clasped her hands together. “He’s been acting funny. He’s been gone a lot, and he’s as tight as a new clam. It’s hard to believe the FBI would arrest him without good reason.”

  Jane stalked around to drop back in her chair, and Parker trotted over to put his head on her knee. He whined at her obvious agitation, and she stroked his silky red fur until she regained her composure.

  Elizabeth was right—the FBI wasn’t likely to have arrested him without plenty of evidence. “Dad said he’d been following the real thief. Do you know who that might be?”

  “No, he never discusses his work. He probably knows it upsets me to talk about criminals and jail.”

  “Did you call Scott?”

  “Yes. He’s on his way to post bail.”

  Scott Foster was the best criminal attorney in the south. He’d be able to figure this out.

  She glanced at her computer and saw her search was finished. She pulled up the document and scanned the charges, then gave a low gasp. “They’re saying he took five hundred thousand dollars’ worth of diamonds, cash, guns, and drugs. I know he’d never do this. We’ve never even had that kind of property come through the county.”

  Elizabeth looked down. “You’re the loyal sort, Jane. I’ve always loved that about you. But I-I think maybe he did these things.”

  Jane couldn’t muster an argument without proof so she said nothing as Elizabeth rose and headed for the door. Once the older woman was out of the room, Jane groaned and buried her face in her hands.

  Not only did she have to figure out how to get her dad out of this, she knew her own job would be in jeopardy. The city council might think she had something to do with this too.

  She lifted her head and reached for her keyboard. First things first. She still had a job to do, and there was a murdered man who deserved justice, as well as Nicole Pearson’s death to investigate. It was up to her to see that he got it. She’d work on her dad’s case in her off-duty hours. Even though she wasn’t sure she was qualified for this job, she had to give it everything she had.

  She studied the detective’s notes and examined the interviews they’d done so far. By the time she was finished, dusk was falling and hunger pangs rumbled in her stomach.

  Her phone dinged with a message. Scott Foster wanted to meet her at his office.

  On my way.

  Eleven

  Scott’s French Quarter–style building was pale brick with elaborate wrought-iron balconies peering out under a Mansard black roof. It was the most photographed building in town, but Jane didn’t have time to admire its beauty today. Dusk blurred the soft lines even more and hid the wide moldings under the eaves.

  The door was unlocked, and she let herself in. Her boots clattered on the marble floors as she hurried through the main hall to Scott’s office on the right. Light shone through the sidelights on the door, and she jerked it open at the sound of her dad’s deep voice.

  He and Scott sat in the waiting room’s comfortable leather furniture. Her dad didn’t look rumpled or upset by his arrest.

  She rushed to her father’s side. “What on earth is going on, Dad?”

  Tears felt dangerously close, and she blinked them back so she didn’t disgrace herself in front of her father. A police chief didn’t cry. An officer focused on facts and justice. They would get through this and prove her dad’s innocence.

  “Have a seat,” Scott said.

  He and her father had been friends for as long as she could remember. Scott and his family lived in a big compound next to Dad’s, and he had enough stores to feed half the town for five years. He was the reason they’d ended up in Pelican Harbor. He’d sold the land next to his to her father for a song and had helped him find a job. His wife owned a candle shop in town, and people came from all over the area to shop her creations. Jane used to be friends with his daughter, but she’d moved away at eighteen and had never answered any of Jane’s texts or calls.

  Jane understood. Sometimes you wanted to walk away from the past and everyone in it. As far as she knew, Scott’s daughter had never come back to town.

  She sank onto the sofa beside her father. If only he would reach over and take her hand to comfort her, but that wasn’t his way. He was not a demonstrative man.

  Scott was about her father’s age, but he was whip thin where her father was bulky. She used to say he reminded her of a woodpecker, but his shock of bright-red hair had faded with age to a reddish brown. At least he still had hair.

  Scott cleared his throat. “The charges are that your dad sold confiscated goods and money.”

  “That’s preposterous!”

  Her father still hadn’t spoken, and Jane eyed him. Did he realize how serious all this was? He didn’t seem upset or surprised by any of it. “Dad?”

  He stirred as if he were awakening from sleep. “It’s all lies, but the FBI seems to believe this without any real evidence.” For the first time, anger rumbled in his voice.

  Elizabeth’s words came rushing back to Jane. “Why did you really retire? Did you know this was coming?”

  He looked at her then, his hazel eyes hooded with fatigue. “Of course I did. I was chief of police. I heard every rumor swirling in the underworld. I didn’t want to be arrested while I was an acting chief, and I didn’t want to do anything that would hamper your being appointed in my place. I retired and laid low and was trying to figure out who was trying to frame me.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

  “Just stay out of it. I don’t want Lisa to question her decision.”

  “You really think the mayor won’t yank me right out? This will put her in an awkward position.”

  He shrugged. “My problem has nothing to do with you. You didn’t even know about the looming charges.”

  “Someone had to have made an initial complaint.” Frowning, she le
aned forward. “And why didn’t I hear anything about it? The FBI had to have been conducting interviews with department members. They would have talked to the evidence room and had all kinds of questions.”

  “I guess they didn’t think you’d tell them the truth.”

  “That’s why people have been clamming up when I come into a room. I thought it was because I was being considered for chief.”

  “Maybe not,” her dad said. “These are all trumped-up charges.”

  “By whom? Who is the real culprit you mentioned?”

  His gaze fell away from hers. “I don’t want to point fingers until I have more evidence, and I want you to stay out of it. This is a frame-up, and I don’t want you to be the next target.”

  “Who would want to frame you?”

  “Who wouldn’t? I’ve put plenty of criminals behind bars. I’ve had a lifelong law enforcement career. The list of my enemies is long.”

  An easy explanation for his comments to Elizabeth, but something still didn’t feel right to Jane. “Who do you have evidence against?”

  “I want you to do your job and don’t worry about me. This is for me and Scott to figure out. When I get more evidence, I’ll take care of it myself.”

  There was no way she would leave it at that. Her dad needed her help, and she wasn’t about to walk away.

  * * *

  Reid’s gut was in a knot when he entered the rental house to the sound of the TV in the living room. The house reeked of garlic and cheese, and he spied the remains of frozen lasagna on the table. Dad failure again. Was he repeating his father’s errors? Reid shook his head. Tomorrow he would cook them a good meal, maybe a shrimp boil. They both loved that.

  He stood in the doorway to the living room drinking in the sight of his son. Will wore a Saints T-shirt and shorts, and his bare feet looked like they’d grown. He was already in a size fourteen shoe, but new sneakers were probably on the horizon. His musculature was beginning to develop more, and Will would be every bit as tall as Reid when he reached his full height.

  The two of them had come through a lot together, and their bond was one of the joys of his life. Will was a hard worker, responsible, affectionate, and more mature than his years warranted. People remarked about how much Will looked like him, but Reid caught glimmers of his mother in him, too, a fact that pained him.

  All Reid could do was pray he could explain the circumstances in a way that didn’t hurt his boy.

  Will sat on the edge of the sofa as Tiger Woods eyed his putt. The comments droned on about the challenges Woods had to overcome the past years, but Reid tuned the announcer out and tried to decide how to bring up the subject. He watched Tiger sink the putt before the show went to a commercial.

  Will glanced up and muted the television. “Hey, Dad, I didn’t know you were back. Want some lasagna? And what do you think about going golfing this week? We haven’t gone in a while.”

  “I’ll eat later, but golf sounds like a great idea.”

  Will studied him. “Everything okay?”

  Reid couldn’t smile because it would be a lie. “Not exactly. I need to talk to you about something. A couple of things, actually. Since you’re on spring break, want to be my videographer on this documentary? I can’t seem to find someone on short notice.”

  “Cool. I’ll do it.” Will settled back and slung his arm across the top of the sofa. “You look serious. Did you change your mind about the move?”

  “What? No, not at all.” Reid settled in the recliner. “I’ve already contacted the real estate agent about buying this place, and I put in an offer. The seller accepted a few minutes ago, and this property will be ours soon.”

  “Awesome!” Will’s smile fell away as he stared at his dad. “So what’s up?”

  He might as well plunge right in. “It’s about your mother.”

  Will lowered his arm and leaned forward. “You found out what happened to her?”

  “Not exactly. That phone call I got when we were shrimping? It was from her. She’s alive.”

  Will’s mouth sagged open. “Alive? You mean she has been hiding from us all these years? Where is she? Is she coming to see me?”

  Though Will’s voice raised a notch, his mouth flattened, and Reid glimpsed trepidation. Poor kid had never understood, and Reid had never been able to explain it to him. How could he when he didn’t understand it himself?

  Reid held up his hand. “Slow down, bud.” He exhaled. “She called asking for money. She thinks she can get it by threatening to show up in your life and make you think she doesn’t care about you.”

  Will’s dark eyes widened. “Like that’s a surprise? I always figured she left because she wanted to. When I was a kid, I thought maybe someone took her where she didn’t want to go, but I figured it out. She never cared about me or she would have at least stayed in touch. It’s one thing to leave your kid, but it’s something else to never call, never send a birthday card, nothing.”

  The kid was way too astute. “It was never you, though, buddy. It was me. I was too tame, I guess. I’d come home tired from starting a new business, and she’d want to go out. I’d make excuses and she’d go by herself. I should have made more of an effort.”

  Will fisted his hands. “It’s not your fault, Dad. You’ve always been there for me. I’m sure you tried with Mom.” He looked out the wall of windows to the sluggish Bon Secour River lit by the setting sun. “Did she say where she’s been?”

  Reid hesitated, then shrugged. “She wouldn’t say exactly, but it sounded to me like her current boyfriend isn’t paying anymore. She knows I’ve found some success as a journalist so she thought she could blackmail me by promising to stay away if I gave her money.”

  “By threatening to hurt me. She’s some mother. I wish she’d stayed gone.” He rose in a gangly movement and went toward the door. “Think I’ll take a walk.”

  Reid wanted to go after him, but he restrained himself and watched Will cross the oyster shell driveway and head to the river. Will needed to process this on his own. The first hurdle was over, but what if Lauren followed through on her threat and showed up? She might even tell Will she’d adopted him. Reid didn’t want to face the questions that would inevitably follow.

  Twelve

  Jane parked on the street and took the black-iron staircase up to her apartment. Parker’s nails clanged on the metal as he went up beside her. Every muscle in her body ached from being wound like a yo-yo. She had to figure out how to clear her dad, but with so much work on her plate from the homicides, she wasn’t sure how she was going to do it.

  And she still wasn’t sure how to help Olivia. Her friend’s illness weighed heavy on her shoulders.

  Her foot kicked something, and she heard a clink. Looking down, she spotted a silver coin. She scooped it up and examined it. A Kennedy half-dollar. What was it doing on her doorstep? She glanced around and saw nothing else out of place. Struggling with the burden of her computer and bag, she unlocked her door and practically fell inside. She dropped her belongings on the counter and studied the coin more closely.

  It was stamped 1964. She grabbed her phone and looked it up. That was the first year it was minted and was worth about ten dollars, just like the one found on Dawson’s body. She’d already picked it up, so it was unlikely to yield any prints, but she’d turn it in to forensics anyway.

  She put it and her phone down and headed to her bedroom to change. The last thing she felt like doing was going out to dinner, but Olivia needed her, and Jane wanted to assess how she was doing. Tonight they’d tell Megan what was going on as well.

  Her head throbbed with the knowledge she was failing everyone.

  Stepping into her apartment usually lifted her spirits, but it wasn’t working tonight. Over the years she’d made the one-bedroom space into her sanctuary, and she loved every square foot of its light and airy open floor plan. Every feature was perfect, from the vaulted ceilings to the shiplap on one living room wall to the marble counters and gray ca
binets in the kitchen.

  When Parker nosed her hand, she shook her head and inhaled. Maybe routine would snap her out of her funk. She filled Parker’s water bowl and fed him his dinner, then headed for the shower. Her light-brown hair wasn’t dry but at least she was dressed when the doorbell rang. She scrunched the gel through her locks one last time, then raced for the door.

  She opened it and stepped out of the way to let Olivia in. “I left it unlocked for you.” Olivia wore jeans with sandals and a red top. “You must have gotten the memo to wear red.”

  Olivia shut the door behind her. “You’re the chief—you should know better than to leave your door unlocked.” She smiled and handed over a gift bag. “Happy early birthday.”

  “It’s not for another week.” Jane loved presents. “Can I open it now?”

  Olivia stopped to pet Parker. “Sure.”

  Olivia seemed stronger today, and Jane hadn’t seen her limping. She still hoped the first diagnosis was wrong.

  Carrying the gift, Jane went to the sofa and settled on it before she dug into the bag. A large book was inside, and she squealed when she pulled it out. “The first book in the Masters of Rome series. I’ve wanted to get started on this series.” After taking Latin in college, she loved reading books about Ancient Rome, and Olivia was one of the few people who knew it. Colleen McCullough was one of her favorite authors.

  “There’s a code for an e-book in the bag too.”

  Jane dug back into the gift bag and pulled out a paper with a book cover and code. “The Screwtape Letters. I don’t think I’ve heard of this one.” And the cover didn’t look like something she usually picked. “Have you read it? I’ve never heard of C. S. Lewis.”

  “You’ve never heard of C. S. Lewis? You know, he wrote The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.”

  “I’ve watched the movie.” Why would Olivia get her a children’s book? Though the cover didn’t look childish. She laid the paper aside. “Thanks. I guess we’d better get going. Where’s Megan? I thought we were going to tell her about your illness tonight. Did you change your mind? And what about seeking that second opinion?”