Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1 (18 page)

John expected a computer and not much else.
Wasn’t that how it was done these days? Instead there was a board
with a million buttons, a mic that dangled from above in front of
the chair, bulky military-style headphones and what looked like an
8-track tape deck with slots for four cassettes.

“Wow. This place is ancient.”

Andra laughed; a rusty sound that stopped
when he turned to her. She cleared her throat, pulled over a second
chair and motioned for him to sit. “That it is.”

John stood. “I’m going to need you to provide
the sheriff’s office with a set of your fingerprints.” She just
looked at him. “Can you come in tomorrow?”

Andra’s mouth moved back and forth. “Why
now?”

“I found a possible match to the murder
weapon. I’ll need to take probably everyone in town’s prints
eventually, unless we get a match. But I’m starting with a core
group.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “So just because
Harriett said I did it, I’m considered a suspect?”

“It’s a process of elimination.” And it
couldn’t be affected by his personal opinion. However he was
starting to feel about Andra, he had to be impartial or he would be
doing a poor job.

“But I am a suspect.”

“Right now basically everyone is a suspect.”
He smiled. “Except me and Pat.”

Andra slid her chair closer to the mic. Why
did she have to be like that? It wasn’t like he was arresting her.
John was only trying to do the job he’d been hired to do. It was
nothing personal.

“Wouldn’t you rather I ruled you out
first?”

“Fine.”

“You’ll come in?”

“Yes.” She slid over, loaded a new 8-track
tape and ejected the one above it, pressed two buttons and listened
while the song changed to a new one.

“Do you think Hal would let me make an
announcement? I’d like to ask anyone who has any information about
Betty Collins’ death to come to the sheriff’s office and talk to
us.”

Andra pointed at the other chair. John didn’t
know if that meant yes or no.

He sat anyway. “So…did it take you long to
learn how to do all this?”

She glanced at him with one raised
eyebrow.

Guess not.

“Hal should request some new equipment. This
stuff is a little…dated. They probably just do it all on computers
now, don’t you think?”

“You’re assuming Hal has the money to pay for
new equipment.”

“Don’t you just request it from the
marshals?”

“Everything has to be ordered and paid for by
the purchaser.”

“Everything?”

She nodded. “It’s a moot point since Hal
swears up and down 8-tracks sound better than anything else.
Although, I’m not sure he’s actually ever listened to a CD in his
life so it’s hard to tell. He’s been here since seventy-two. Did
you know he was a tunnel rat in Vietnam?”

John shook his head. The song ended and Andra
glanced at him. “Ready?”

“For what?”

“To make your announcement.” She clicked two
buttons, slid a dial up the board and moved the mic toward him.

He swallowed. “Good evening. This is Sheriff
John Mason. If you have any information regarding the tragic death
of Betty Collins, please contact the sheriff’s department. Your
assistance could enable us to bring the killer to justice.”

Andra winced. She pressed more buttons and a
song started. What was wrong with what he said?

The phone rang. Two buttons lit up on the
base…three, and then a fourth. Andra hit a button on the
telephone’s keypad and a voice came through the speakers mounted to
the wall. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

Andra folded her arms so John said, “This is
Sheriff John Mason. Do you have information about the death of
Betty Collins?”

“I want to know when you’re going to arrest
Andra Caleri,” a gravel-voiced woman said. “Everyone knows she done
it. Everyone. How come she isn’t in jail?”

“Ms. Caleri is afforded the same rights as
every citizen living in this town.”

“Rights-shmights. She done it. She’s the
killer.”

John didn’t look at Andra. “Whether she is or
not, evidence must be obtained before an arrest warrant can be
granted. And I don’t think—”

The caller hung up.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” Andra shook her head. “I don’t care
what they think. I didn’t kill Betty Collins.”

John didn’t think she had either, although he
didn’t know why he felt it so strongly. There just didn’t seem to
be any reason why she would have. Andra was nothing if not content
with the life she’d made in her cabin. And apparently helping out
Hal. He wondered who else in town was the recipient of her time and
energy and they didn’t even know it. But he couldn’t say that,
because it would be showing bias to her when she was as much a
suspect as anyone else.

He couldn’t even tell her he didn’t think she
was the killer.

“You want to take more calls?”

John looked at the lights beside Line 2, Line
3 and Line 4. “Not really.” Andra smiled and her cheeks flushed
pink. “How long are you here for?”

“Hal shuts down around two a.m. usually. I
have a while left and then I’ll lock up and drop the key in the
hide-a-slot.”

John glanced at the shelves of tapes. “Can
you play whatever you want?”

“Uh, no.” She lifted a paper he hadn’t seen
yet. A hand-written list. “Hal plays what Hal wants to play.”

“Even when Hal isn’t here?”

Andra nodded; her eyes bright with humor. “I
don’t mind. It’s his radio station and it’s not my thing.”

“Then why do you help out?”

She shrugged but John thought there might be
more, so he waited. Sure enough, she said, “There was a bunch of
extra supplies left over when he built this place. I bartered for
lumber and use of his tools. I figure I’ll be about done paying him
back in…oh, fifteen years or so.”

John laughed. “Doesn’t sound like it was a
good deal.”

“It built my house.”

“You built your cabin?”

Andra shifted in her chair. “It beat the
lean-to I was living in before. Especially when it snowed.” She
fingered the edge of her sweater. “Hal was out walking. He’d had a
fight with his lady-friend and he was blowing off steam. He found
me halfway passed out with the flu and carried me to town. To his
house.

“It nearly scared me to death, waking up in a
strange man’s bed. I screamed so loud Hal dropped the tray of soup
he was bringing in. We talked. He won me over but I persuaded him
to take a trade for the materials and he helped me build the
cabin.”

She didn’t look at him. John wasn’t going to
pass up an opportunity to study her on one of the rare occasions
she was opening up.

He cleared his throat, wanting to share his
story in return. If she was ever going to trust him, it was a good
place to start. “I was married. Pat’s mom…she’s a lawyer. I’d like
to say it worked in the beginning but that’s probably not true. We
just ignored the friction because she was having Pat. I think she
was relieved when I started going undercover. The assignments got
longer and longer and then home wasn’t home anymore. Pat had
started going to school. One of those private places that costs a
whack.”

He took a breath. “She wanted out. I wasn’t
going to fight it so long as my son knew who I was, knew I loved
him.”

“And now?”

“She has her life and I got the better end of
the deal. Pat with me full time for the first time in…I don’t even
know. Years.”

Andra gave him a small smile. “He’s a great
kid.”

“He is.” John glanced down. The lights on the
phone were dark, but he’d probably have a crowd in the office
tomorrow. Hopefully something would pan out into a lead. “How about
you? Have you ever been married?”

Andra swallowed. “Once.”

“Didn’t last?”

“Uh…no.” She hesitated. “It’s complicated.
And a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

Andra’s body stilled. She looked up at the
corner where the wall met the ceiling. “His name was Drew.”

John barked out a laugh. The guy’s name was
Drew? Andra’s wide eyes met his. “Uh, sorry.” He coughed. “Excuse
me.”

She didn’t smile. “He was nice…ish.”

What did that mean? “How long did it
last?”

“A few months.” She reached for the tapes,
switched out two for new ones and pressed play. “I can’t really
talk about this. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay if it’s too painful.”

Andra looked like she’d slapped him. “Right.
It was a tough time. And it’s late so you probably won’t want to be
away from Pat for very long.”

“You’re right. I don’t really know what the
rules are for kids and being alone.”

“I’m not the person to ask.”

“No worries.” She was shutting him down
again. After he thought they were getting somewhere. “I’ll find
out.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m sure you will.”

She wasn’t talking about Pat. John waited; he
couldn’t just leave like this. There was more to what was between
them than brief periods of sharing followed by awkwardness. He must
be rusty.

Andra held his gaze. “Sooner or later you’re
going to figure it all out.”

Andra watched him leave. His footsteps echoed
down the hall and the front door shut. Andra blew out a breath and
twisted around in the chair. After a few seconds, the bathroom door
inched open.

Nadia Marie stepped out, hands up.
“Okay…okay…hold on.” She laughed. “What. Was. That?”

Andra couldn’t help it, she chuckled. “I have
no idea.”

John showing up was the last thing she’d
expected tonight. The fact he stayed and chatted was even more
bizarre. The man thought she might have killed Betty Collins.
Probably he was getting a feel for her to see if she was the
homicidal type.

Little did he know.

Nadia’s head tipped back and she laughed,
full out. She stumbled over and practically fell into the chair. It
barely dipped, since she weighed about a hundred pounds even though
she was easily five-eight. Andra had more curves, despite the fact
Nadia forced her to hike around the mountains for days with only
protein bars and bananas.

The woman was a nut but she made it so Andra
wasn’t so lonely.

“You can stop laughing now.”

“No way.” Nadia sucked in a breath. “That man
has a crush on you. I’m not lying. He does. He might not want to be
but he’s totally into you.”

And that was funny? Why wouldn’t John want to
be attracted to her? There wasn’t anything wrong with that.

“So?”

Nadia’s lips twitched…and then she started
laughing again. “So? That’s priceless.” She wiped a tear away.
“That’s the most hilarious thing I’ve heard in weeks.”

“He thinks I’m a murderer.”

“Trust me, that man is hedging all his bets
on the fact you didn’t do it. Otherwise, why did he stay and tell
you about his wife. And why did you talk about Drew? You like the
sheriff.” She ended on a sing-song voice.

Andra rolled her eyes.

“You do.” She gasped. “You do like him.”

“I do not.”

“It’s not a crime, you know.”

Andra sighed. “Finally, something I’m good at
that isn’t.”

“You’re allowed to have a relationship. You
can be happy. And not just all alone in your cabin. You haven’t
been excluded from falling in love.” Nadia shoved her shoulder. She
should do some strength training if that was all she had.

Andra folded her arms. “I have nothing in
common with Sheriff John Mason. There’s no point in even
considering a relationship with a cop. A cop who has a son. There’s
no way it would work.”

Nadia pouted. “Why do you have to be so
reasonable? Thinking things through all the time. What’s up with
that? Dream a little for once, will you?”

“You know why it’s impossible.” Andra changed
out the tapes and started a new track. She lifted her coffee cup
but it was cold.

“Because of the job thing…or because of the
other thing?”

“Honestly? Both.”

“Why would John care that you had a child? It
was a long time ago and you gave her up for adoption.” Nadia
paused. “Do you think he cares about your past enough it’s going to
make him turn away?”

Andra pulled at the side of her jacket, hung
on the back of the chair, and got the envelope from the pocket. It
was the mail she’d received just that morning. She handed it to the
only person in town who knew Andra had delivered a baby girl weeks
before she arrived in Sanctuary. It was one of the biggest reasons
she’d wanted out of her former life. A serious wake-up call she
never would have chosen for herself. But it brought her to where
she needed to be, even while Helena was where she needed to be.

Nadia’s face sobered. She pulled the photos
from the envelope and flipped through them fast, then again much
slower. When she looked up, her brown eyes were big and wide, full
of all the emotion Andra was feeling but would never talk about.
“She’s beautiful.”

Andra thought so too. That was mercy; that
Helena looked like her and not like Drew. And more mercy, that the
adoptive parents willingly sent pictures—not often, but enough.
Andra couldn’t ask for more.

Nadia tilted one picture so Andra could see
it. A birthday party. “How old is she?”

“Eleven.” Andra swallowed.

The crying sound came from Nadia.

Andra smiled. “You’re such a softie.”

“I feel like a proud auntie and I’ve never
even met her.” Nadia sucked in a breath and sobbed.

“I’ve never met her either.”

Nadia’s head came up.

“As soon as I gave birth they took her away.”
Nadia looked ready to explode, so Andra said, “I told them to. I
knew if I held her I wouldn’t be able to let her go.”

“Why did you?”

Andra turned away. She didn’t need
recriminations, not from Nadia of all people. But that was her way.
Nadia said what she was thinking. It wasn’t always kind but there
was no pretense, which to Andra’s life of silence and lies was like
fresh water.