Monroe, Melody S. - Verdict (Siren Publishing Classic) (20 page)

“We’ll check it out as soon as I talk to Mr. Wilkerson, assuming he’s still alive. The old coot was a hundred years old the last time I was here.”

He and Susan sauntered north toward the hardware store. The street hadn’t changed much in five years. The same antique table and stool sat in Art’s Collectibles, the same bookstore had faded posters in the window and the same empty storefront was at the end of the street.

Stone opened the front door of Wilkerson’s store, and the familiar ring of the bell sounded. A young man with way too many pimples stood behind the counter. Stone scanned the aisles. An old man was placing bags of salt on the shelves. He made a beeline to him.

“Mr. Wilkerson?”

The bent over man in the green apron twisted around and ran his gaze down the length of Stone. “Yes? Can I help you?”

“Do you remember me?” Stone helped Wilkerson to his feet. For two summers, he’d worked at the store.

Wilkerson blinked a few times and pushed up his glasses. “Well, I’ll be. Stone Watson. I hear you and Tom are working together in DC.”

“Yes, sir. Or at least I was. I quit the force to settle down. This here is my fiancée, Taylor.” Before Susan could protest, he wrapped an arm around her waist and squeezed.

“You pregnant?” the old man asked, one brow raised. Stone knew the old coot was teasing, but from the way Susan’s mouth had dropped, she didn’t.

“No,” she said, jumping in before he got a chance to answer for her. “We just got engaged. I’m a God-fearing woman who believes in marriage first.” Her chin notched higher.

She was something else. A quick study too.

“I’m glad to hear it, little lady.” Wilkerson turned to Stone. “What can I get for you?”

“I’m looking to do some odd jobs. You know of anyone in need of a handyman?”

The old man scratched his chin. “Douglas Abernathy, out at Meadow Point, was in here yesterday. He and the misses are expecting their first, and he’s renovating a room for the baby. He might could use some help.”

He smiled. “You got his number?”

Mr. Wilkerson hobbled back around the counter. “I do, but don’t expect much in the way of pay. The wife and he can give you food if you need some. They turned their barn into some kind of organic greenhouse. Even installed a couple of them solar panels.”

“That would be great.”

“Where are you two staying?”

“At the Traynors’ for now. We plan to look for a place of our own as soon as Hank gets back from DC.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for you.” He winked. “Glad you’re back.”

They said their goodbyes, and Stone escorted Susan out. Once they were out of earshot, she stepped away from him. “Was that wise to tell him where we’re staying?”

“If I’d lied, he’d have known.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. Very cute.

“Do you think the whole town will know you’re back?”

“I’d give Wilkerson about an hour.”

He wanted to smooth away the creases in her brow, but given they had to play the role of the happy couple, he might as well make his part convincing. He squeezed her hand, leaned over, and kissed her with emotion. Her eyes shut and he swore she pressed her hips against his cock just to torment him. God, what she did to him. “We want the townsfolk to believe we’re a couple.”

“I have no problem with that. When I was in front of a jury, I was a great actress, if I do say so myself. Playing your fiancée won’t be a stretch.”

When she smiled up at him with mischief in her eyes, he knew he’d run smack into trouble.

Chapter Sixteen

Richard paced Harrison’s office. “Any idea where Watson might be?”

“He could be anywhere.” Harrison crossed his arms and glared at him.

“We don’t have any way to trace him.” Richard slammed his fist onto the desk.

“Calm down. Stone’s not dangerous.”

“Like hell. He killed at least one juror, maybe more.”

“The timeline doesn’t fit. He couldn’t have killed Janet Starkey, for one. Stone and Ms. Chapman were in Florida at the time.”

Richard thought fast. “Or so he said. I only spoke to Stone, never to Ms. Chapman. He could have just said they were in Florida.”

Harrison picked up the phone. “It’s easy enough to verify.” He tapped his fingers on the desk. “Tom, Harrison. Would you run me the charges Stone rang up on the credit card from the time he left DC to the time he arrived in Florida?” He held up a finger at Richard.

Smug bastard. He needed Stone to look guilty. Otherwise, he was doomed. Harrison was too smart not to figure out he was guilty of compromising the position of the witnesses.

“Thanks,” Harrison said. He disconnected. “Shouldn’t take Tom long to check.”

Richard sat in the chair opposite Harrison. He didn’t enjoy looking up at the man, but the situation was getting worse. “He could have hired someone to kill Janet and the other witnesses.”
Lame, Richard, lame.

“What do you have against Stone?”

Shit. “Me? Nothing. I’m just drawing conclusions from the facts. Pictures don’t lie.”

A knock sounded on the door and Richard’s secretary came in. She glanced at Harrison and winced.

“It’s all right. We’re all on the same side. What did you find out?”

“It was too late to contact Stone’s college to find out the name of his fraternity.” She pressed her together for a moment. “I came up with a dead end with his last foster home too. The parents have moved and left no forwarding address. I’m sorry.”

From the way she twisted her fingers together, she looked like she expected to get fired for failing to get the information he’d asked for. If her father wasn’t so high up in the FBI, he’d have canned her ass a long time ago. He wanted to rant, but he stayed calm in front of Harrison.

“No problem. Tomorrow will be fine. I’m sure you’ll come up with a list of his friends soon enough.”

She half smiled and ducked out.

“What was that about?” Harrison said.

Richard got up. “I’m guessing Stone will want to stay with a friend rather than pay for a motel night after night. Without using credit cards, his funds will run short.”

“Stone is resourceful. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Dismissed like some newbie, Richard straightened his tie and left. Asshole. He’d find Stone if it killed him.

* * * *

Waiting on tables came back naturally to Susan, and the people of West Virginia were friendly and nice. She couldn’t brag they were big tippers, but she got to eat for free, and for that she was grateful. To her surprise, the owner acted happy she wanted a job. Little did he know how desperate she was for funds.

Working the long hours helped renew her spirits. She was used to investigating and reading briefs till the early morning, not sitting around helpless.

The switch from mental to physical work didn’t bother her as long as she made a few adjustments. She found if she held the tray low enough, the weight didn’t tug on her stitches as much, but John Carter, the owner of Shepherd’s Diner, insisted she only carry light orders. Poor Rebecca, one of the waitresses who worked the same shift, had to do the heavy lifting for her.

Most of the clientele were polite enough not to ask why part of her face was covered. She and Stone had come up with a good cover story, which involved a drunk driver, in case they did ask. The hardest part of her job was responding to her new name of Taylor instead of Susan.

She’d only been working two days, but she already missed being with Stone twenty-four-seven. He’d begun work this morning at the young couple’s house. Of course, if he’d let her have a phone, she might have been able to text him.

“Taylor?” her boss called from behind the counter.

She looked up. He nodded toward the door. Stone stood at the entranceway, a smile on his face. Her heart skipped a beat. Was she psychic or what? Even with paint splatter on his jeans and bits of white in his hair, he was way too sexy for his own good.

He sauntered over to her. “Got room for me?”

“Sure. Pick a table.” Four of the eight tables sat empty.

“Can you join me?”

She laughed. Actually laughed. “It’s noon. I have to work. It’s the busiest time of the day, or so I’ve been told.” To punctuate her statement, the door opened bringing with it two more customers.

Stone shrugged and grabbed a booth in the corner, his back to the wall. She figured the strategic position afforded him the best view of what was going on.

She brought over a menu. “Can I get you something to drink, sir?”

“Oh, I’m a sir now.” His brown eyes crinkled on the corners. “I like it. Yes, a cup of coffee. Black. And a Shepherd’s special hamburger, medium rare.”

“You want anything else? Dessert perhaps?” She hadn’t flirted with a man in years. Somehow it felt right with Stone.

“I might take you up on your offer. Later.”

His eyes darkened, and heat crept up her face. They were supposed to be engaged, so she guessed his flirtations were part of the role-playing, but she wouldn’t mind some intimacy during the evening hours.

She delivered the coffee, then his meal. When the lunch crowd left, Susan slipped in the booth across from him.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

“I actually enjoy meeting all these people. They’re so real and nice. Nothing like the sharks and scum buckets I’m used to.”

Stone looked around. “I always had a connection to this place. See that washboard and those bottles on the shelf?”

She nodded.

“They’ve been there since 1963, according to Hank.”

She envied him for having a place with such good ties.

Since she had a few minutes, and Stone appeared to be in a sharing mood, she decided to test the waters. “Where exactly did you grow up?”

A tic caught the corner of his eye. Apparently, his background wasn’t good. Uh-oh. She’d forgotten about the four foster homes.
Way to go.

“I lived in many different places, from Pennsylvania to Virginia to Washington, DC.”

“Was that when you were in foster care?”

“Yes.”

“How did you end up there?”

Tension rippled across his neck as he stretched his arms back over the Naugahyde-upholstered seat backs. “My mother died of a drug overdose when I was seven. She was a whore.”

Susan sucked in a long breath. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Long story short, I went directly into the foster care system. Because I was rather old, I got shuffled from place to place after my short stay with the nuns. I went through four families before I turned eighteen.”

The lines around his mouth hardened. She had no idea how to respond. “I’m sorry.” She had to stop repeating herself.

“I turned out all right.” He tossed her a smile that made her insides melt.

She glanced away for a moment. “And here I thought I had it tough with my mother and father always working.”

His shoulders relaxed. “I did have one family who cared for me.”

“Tom’s family?”

“I kind of adopted his family during college, but this was when I was nine. I got a Big Brother from one of those community outreach programs. He taught me everything, from fishing to racing go-carts to how to shoot a gun.”

She was happy for him. “Do you still keep in touch with this family?”

He locked his gaze with her. “As a matter of fact I do. My ‘big brother’ had a nephew who I grew fond of, too. We were like brothers.” He leaned forward and took her hands in his. “You want to know the name of this so-called brother?”

From the glint in his eye, she knew she wouldn’t like the answer. Then she recalled the four names on his speed dial. “Don’t tell me it was Peter Caravello.”

“Yup.”

She leaned back and withdrew her hands. “No wonder you wanted to believe he was innocent.”

“Turns out I was right. Peter couldn’t have committed several of those crimes since he was in custody or in Washington at the time. I think the same person who wanted to frame Peter is trying to frame me.”

“Hey, Taylor,” her boss called.

She tossed him a smile, glad for the interruption. Why spoil a perfectly good day by possibly getting into a disagreement over Peter’s innocence or guilt? “Gotta go. Thanks for stopping by.” For the sake of image, she debated kissing him, but when he chugged the rest of his coffee, she backed away. Too bad he hadn’t read her mind.

He finished up shortly and waved good-bye. The earlier smile no longer existed. It was clear he wanted to talk about Peter, but she wasn’t ready to have an unbiased discussion. Without more evidence, she wouldn’t be visiting Peter alone any time soon.

Stone had been gone no more than ten minutes when two men walked in. Her stomach soured for no good reason other than gut instinct. Was it the way they looked at her? Or the thorough perusal of the place as if they intended to rob it?

Forget it
. Paranoia wasn’t a pretty trait, despite the fact the shorter man looked familiar. Too bad she couldn’t place him.