Looking Through Darkness (8 page)

The tall, blond sergeant, out of uniform and wearing a dark blue polo shirt and jeans, stepped into the diner and Leigh Ann waved. In a moment he'd joined her at her table.

“Day off?” Leigh Ann asked.

“Yeah and not just because it's Sunday. I've been working the graveyard shift. Next week I go back to days again.” He ordered coffee, leaned back, then placed his arm across the booth's low back. “What's up, cuz?”

“I've got a mess on my hands, Dale.” She told him what she'd found in her attic.

“You turned that stuff in, right?” Seeing her shake her head, he added, “You've got to do that, Leigh Ann, and be aware that once you do, things are going to get a lot tougher for you. You were Kurt's wife, which means you'll become an instant suspect in his embezzlement scheme. Did anyone ever ask you about Kurt and that missing money, or about the fake vendor, Frank Jones?”

“Wayne and Pierre have both asked me about business files pertaining to Frank Jones. They thought Kurt might have brought them home or transferred them to his home computer. I looked around, but I didn't find anything at the time.”

“It sounds like they
did
suspect Kurt. Once officers go talk to both men, the partners may claim that you've been holding out on them.”

“That's not true. I didn't know anything about all this until I found that box.”

“Maybe so, but look at it from a different perspective. It could be argued that you knew Kurt had been cheating on you. When you found out about the money, you decided to kill him, make it look like a hunting accident, and take the cash.”

“Oh, crap. I'm a pretty good shot, too,” she admitted in a muted voice, fear winding through her. “I used to go with him to the gun club and shoot the rifle he bought me for our anniversary. What a gift, right? Conveniently, it was the same rifle he'd wanted for himself for years.”

“Consider getting a lawyer,” Dale said, looking serious.

“Are you kidding me? I barely have enough to cover my bills.” She stared at her hands, lost in thought, trying to come up with a plan. After a moment, she looked up at him. “I realize that at first glance it may look bad for me, but if people stop to think it through they'll see I'm not guilty. If I were, I wouldn't have turned the box over to them.”

“It's not that simple. You could have decided to shift the focus back to Kurt's illegal activities, hoping that would protect you from his partners. Since they knew about Frank Jones and the embezzled money, it was only a matter of time before they came after you. At the very least, they might have sued Kurt's estate for restitution.”

“But I almost got shot getting that box,” Leigh Ann said, trying not to lose it now.

“That shotgun booby trap could also work against you. Even if it could be proven that you didn't fake it, it suggests Kurt was keeping the theft from you and was willing to risk you getting killed. That begs the question, why didn't he trust you? Couple that with the fact that you didn't have an alibi for the day he was killed and it doesn't look good.”

“I was at home that entire weekend,” she said, swallowing hard, her voice whisper thin, “but I shouldn't have to prove my innocence. They have to prove my guilt.”

“That's true, but while they look into things your life is going to get mighty complicated,” he said. “Here's another question. When did you first learn that Kurt was cheating on you?”

“Not until after he died.”

“Can you prove that?” Seeing her shake her head, he continued. “Infidelity is a common motive for killing a spouse. Add to that the money Kurt stole, and you've got the makings of a pretty good circumstantial case. The detective in charge of the investigation will undoubtedly consider the possibility that you've got the money hidden somewhere right now, or have been spending it a little at a time.”

“This was a mistake. I shouldn't have called you,” she said, almost in tears.

“Leigh Ann, we're family,” he said, patting her hand. “I had to let you know what you're facing. I'll do my best to protect you. In the meantime, you need to watch your back. Give straight answers, but don't volunteer any information.”

She felt sick but managed to nod. “Okay, let's go to my place. All things considered, I'd rather hand the box over to you.”
Everything except for the .38.
It was loaded with six rounds, and she'd already put that somewhere safe. She had a feeling she might need it.

*   *   *

Leigh Ann sat just outside the French doors on the patio, looking into the garden. Dale had told her he'd pass the box along to the detective who'd investigated Kurt's death. The white collar crimes division would also be informed. Someone in one or both of those divisions would call on her soon.

On edge, she stood and paced, praying that Dale's worst-case scenario would end up being nothing more than a scary story. She'd assumed the police would be on her side, but it seemed she might be in more danger than ever. If Kurt had been murdered, she'd just awakened a sleeping tiger, a dangerous adversary who, up 'til now, had gotten away with his crime.

Last night, after dropping Melvin off, she could have sworn she'd seen a dark-colored sedan following her and had briefly wondered if it was the same one she'd seen when they'd left the storage facility. The car had veered off before she'd reached the turnoff to her home, so she'd stopped worrying about it. Now she wondered if she should have paid closer attention and tried to make note of its license plate.

Rachel came out the French doors with two mugs of tea, handed one to Leigh Ann, then sat down in the other patio chair.

Leigh Ann looked at her across the small bistro table in surprise. “What's all this?”

“I have something to tell you and I wanted you to have some of your favorite vanilla caramel tea while we talked.”

“What's up?”

“Since you're so intent on finding out what Kurt was up to, I decided to give you a hand. I made copies of everything that was in that box. I figured you might need to check that information and duplicates might come in handy somewhere along the way.”

“That wasn't a bad idea at all,” she said, considering the circumstances. “Thanks.”

“I also ran into Pierre Boone last night at the Bullfrog. I told you he hangs out there, remember?” At Leigh Ann's nod, she continued. “He and Wayne were having a drink, and while the band was taking a break, I went over to talk to them.”

“You did
what
?” Leigh Ann sat up. “Rachel, what exactly did you say to them?”

“I was casual about it, but I told them that some of Kurt's personal papers had raised some questions for you and that you'd probably be calling them to see if they could help you find answers.”

“Rachel, I really wish you hadn't done that,” Leigh Ann said.

“Those two have always liked me, so I wanted to open the door for you.”

Leigh Ann thought back again to the sedan she'd seen last night. Didn't Wayne drive a similar make and model? Then again, so did half the county. She took a deep breath. “You shouldn't get involved in this, Rache.”

“Once they find out you've turned everything over to the cops, they're not going to hold you responsible for anything Kurt did. They'll leave you alone.”

“It's not that simple.” Leigh Ann gave her a short version of what Dale had told her.

“Damn,” Rachel said softly. “I didn't think of that. There's only one thing you can do then. Stop looking into this right now, Leigh Ann. Maybe the whole thing will blow over if you just let it be.”

Leigh Ann shook her head. “It's too late for me to back off, but even if I could, I wouldn't. I spent a lot of years closing my eyes to whatever I didn't want to see. I can't be that person anymore, no matter what the risk.”

“You've changed a lot this past year, Leigh Ann. You're harder … tougher, you know? You don't back away anymore, but that can get you into a lot of trouble.”

“Maybe, but I'm through hiding my head in the sand.” Leigh Ann stood, grabbed her cup, and went inside.

There was one important thing she'd have to do as soon as possible. She needed to let Jo know what was going on. She didn't think that whatever she'd stirred up could affect the trading post, but Jo deserved a heads-up.

The trading post people had become like a second family to her. They'd all faced danger together before, after Tom Stuart was murdered, and she knew they'd have her back.

She picked up the phone next to the kitchen cabinet and called Jo. Maybe they'd be able to talk tonight. If not, it would have to be tomorrow at work—hopefully, before a detective showed up to question her.

*   *   *

Jo sat across from Victoria in the Brownhats' small living room. Property belonged to the women, according to tribal customs, and that was evident inside the house. Just as the hogan was Rudy's domain, everything here held a feminine touch. The walls were adorned with beautifully crafted Navajo rugs of various styles. Victoria's mother and Victoria herself were skilled weavers. There were wildflowers in pots all around the room, too. Some Jo recognized, having become familiar with the Plant People, as Rez plants were called by Traditionalists.

Victoria sat in her favorite chair next to a small end table. At her feet were the beginnings of a woven basket. “My husband's resting now, but he asked me to give you a message.”

Jo waited. Long pauses were common, and interrupting them was considered extremely rude.

“The fianc
é
of the woman who passed away days after her pollen blessing is a very angry young man,” Victoria said. “The first time he came by, my husband was making tea from the herbs he keeps in the hogan. The man may have come back later during the night and added the poison to the container. The hogan is always open.”

She handed Jo a piece of paper with the name Edmund Garnenez. “That's his name. I've been told by several people that he claims you and my husband witched her.”

“That's a very serious accusation and a complete lie,” Jo said, fighting to control her temper.

“Yes, but stories like those can take on a life of their own,” Victoria warned. “They grow from the telling.”

“People will see that it's his grief talking.” Knowing that Victoria had enough to handle, Jo added, “I'll try to track the man down and talk to him.”

Victoria shook her head quickly. “No, that's precisely what you shouldn't do. He's not thinking straight right now. I ran into him at the pharmacy and he said some bad things right to my face.”

Although Jo knew that an apprentice
hataalii
couldn't afford to succumb to anger, she felt a slow rage building inside her. There was no way she'd allow anyone to try to intimidate her teacher's family.

“Your first instinct may be to confront him, but remember that a
hataalii,
even an apprentice one, has to remain above things like this,” Victoria said.

Jo swallowed hard and nodded. Her teacher's wife was right.

“My husband said to warn you that the young man may try to poison you next. You need to be careful what you eat and drink.”

“I'll stay on my guard. Don't worry,” Jo said, and stood. “If you need me, day or night, just call.”

“Walk in beauty,” Victoria said, accompanying her to the door.

As she headed for the trading post, Jo's thoughts shifted back to Ben. He was never far from her mind, but he'd been out of contact for several days, and she was worried about him. Since she didn't have access to Skype at home, she intended to hang around the office today as long as possible.

Hope … It was often a cheat, but sometimes it was all a person had.

 

— FIVE —

Leigh Ann liked to come in early on Mondays, but no matter when she arrived it seemed like Jo was already there. Today, she was determined to beat her boss to work and have coffee ready by the time Jo got there. She'd bring some of her special homemade biscuits, too. She used her mother's secret recipe and the baked goods practically melted in your mouth. Add just a touch of butter, and you had heaven.

Leigh Ann reached The Outpost at five minutes before six in the morning. To her surprise, Jo's truck was already there.

Leigh Ann shook her head in amazement as she got out of her Jeep. How dedicated was Jo to be in an hour early? Carrying a basket with a dozen biscuits she let herself in through the back, as usual. Jo was probably in her office, so Leigh Ann walked toward the employee area.

Light streamed into the hall through Jo's open office door. Leigh Ann looked in and saw Jo bent over in her chair, her head resting on her folded arms atop the desk.

The soft sound of Jo's rhythmic breathing told the story. Jo had undoubtedly spent the night waiting to hear from Ben. Leigh Ann knew that Jo had a laptop at home, but only dial-up, which meant Skype was out of the question.

Leigh Ann considered letting her rest, but, knowing Jo, realized her boss would rather be awakened before the store opened. Leigh Ann stepped into the room, placed a hand on Jo's shoulder, and called her name softly.

Jo sat up and groaned. “Aw jeez, I fell asleep … My back … ow.” She straightened slowly.

“Did you hear from Ben yet?” Leigh Ann asked gently.

“No, not a word, but maybe…” Jo reached out and moved the mouse, bringing the screen out of sleep mode. Leigh Ann didn't look closely but could tell that Jo was checking her email inbox. The younger woman shook her head. “Damn.”

“He may just be stuck somewhere that has no Wi-Fi service.”

“I know.” She stretched slowly from side to side and glanced up at Leigh Ann. “You're here way early, even for a Monday. Is everything okay?”

“I was hoping to talk to you before the others showed up,” Leigh Ann said, not answering directly. “I brought biscuits to go with your coffee. Hungry?”