Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1 (21 page)

Matthias and Pat walked over. John had one
more question for Bolton. “Anything else I should know?”

The big man shrugged. “Just if you need
anything you can call. I’ve got weapons I know how to use and
sometimes extra backup doesn’t hurt, especially when you’re going
up against a whole town.”

Bolton strode away, leaving the echo of his
words ringing in John’s ears. He was going to face the whole town?
Maybe the majority, if they persisted in telling him he should
arrest Andra. But he hoped not.

Pat ran at him and John braced. “Dad, that
was awesome!”

“I’m glad.” He looked at Matthias. “Thanks
for showing him around.”

“We’ll have to get both of you out for a ride
next time.”

John swallowed. “Uh…”

“Yeah, Dad!”

“Sure.” But it didn’t sound convincing, even
to his ears.

John led his son to the Jeep and they drove
back to town. “So you liked the horses?”

“Did you see them? They’re awesome.”

“So you said.” John smiled. “You like it
here? School, the town, the people all that?”

Pat’s light dimmed. “Yeah, I like it.”

“But what?”

He looked out the passenger window.

“Do you miss your mom?”

Pat didn’t say anything.

“I can call her if you want. See what’s
happening.”

Pat shrugged.

John studied his son. How was he supposed to
know what was up with Pat? At his age, John had been all about
baseball. His parents had been happily married. His brothers had
beaten up on him relentlessly but they’d never ever let anyone else
give him a hard time. He was navigating this without a map.

John puffed out his cheeks and let the breath
go without any noise. Pat probably didn’t want to seem ungrateful
for getting to spend time with his dad. What was with kids? One
minute they were wide-eyed and innocent and then a teenager with an
attitude emerged. The boy was eight for crying out loud.

“It’s okay if you miss your mom. I’m not
going to get upset or mad.”

Pat kept staring out the window.

“I was gone for a long time. It might take us
a while to get into a rhythm of you and me and how this is gonna
work. But I’m willing to put the time in if you are.” He parked
behind the office. “What do you say, Pat?”

When he turned from the window there was a
sheen of tears in Pat’s eyes. “She hasn’t even emailed me
back.”

John took hold of the side of Pat’s head
where his neck met his shoulder. “That’s her loss. If she can’t see
it then I feel sorry for her.” What was the point sugar coating the
fact if she cared, she would’ve kept him?

“You were gone, too.”

“I was and I missed you every single day. I’m
hoping I can make up for that by being here now. I’m going to be
busy with this case but that doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about
you, trying to figure out ways we can hang out. Okay?”

Pat sniffed and finally, he nodded. “Can I
ride my bike?”

“So long as you stay close to Main Street. No
exploring.” Pat nodded again. “Do you need money for a cupcake or
something?”

Pat’s face brightened. “No, Frannie doesn’t
take money. I can charge it to your account and then she’ll settle
up with you later.”

“Okay then.”

Old west order of things in yet another
aspect. John wondered what these people would do with smart phones
and YouTube. Hal would probably have a heart attack if he heard
what passed for music now. “Have fun, I’ll see you at dinner.”

Pat tumbled out of the Jeep and two minutes
later he pedaled down the alley between the sheriff’s office and
the laundry next door. The other side was a vacant store-front.
John would have to find out if anyone lived in the apartment above.
Maybe he could buy it, knock down the wall between and renovate his
entire living space. It wouldn’t be long before either he or Pat
chafed at each not having their own space. But that smacked of
long-term, which had never been John’s strength. He’d have to
decide whether they were going to stay here first.

John dialed Ellen’s number from the sat phone
and it rang through to voicemail. “Ellen, its John. Call me. Better
yet, email your son.”

He hung up. It was nicer than a lot of
messages she’d left him over the years. Like evidently attracted
like, since they both sucked at this parenting thing. Why did some
people seem like they knew what they were doing? As if it was
easy.

The office was quiet, which suited his frame
of mind. He’d never had to worry about being personable on
assignment. Criminals weren’t overly accustomed to people being
polite to them. They seemed to notice common courtesy faster than
just about any other sign you might not be one of them.

John unlocked the file cabinet and pulled
open the drawer to get Andra’s file. That was one mystery he could
solve quick enough. Then he’d be able to get everyone off her back
and narrow down his suspect list…by one town resident.

He flipped through the paper files but it
wasn’t there.

Andra’s file was gone.

“Palmer, get back here now.”

John tossed the radio on the desk and winced
at the sound it made when it hit the wood surface. He didn’t want
the thousands it would cost to replace the thing deducted from his
paycheck.

He checked the front door but it was locked.
The windows were shut and there was no sign of forced entry. He’d
used his key to come in the back. Who had taken Andra’s file?

The door swung open and Palmer sauntered in
with a smear on the front of his shirt that looked like mustard.
“What is going on? I half expected the place to be on fire. It
doesn’t look like a disaster happened in the middle of my pastrami
sandwich.”

“I’m glad you had time for dinner.” John held
his body taut to save from pummeling the belligerence out of his
deputy. “Andra Caleri’s file is missing.”

Palmer glanced at the cabinet, his orange
brows crinkling together. “From your files?”

“Yes, Palmer. Missing from my files. It was
there when I looked yesterday. And now it’s gone.”

“And you didn’t take it with you?”

John didn’t answer.

“Or leave it out?”

Seriously? These were sensitive
documents.

“You’re the only one with a key.”

John motioned to the set attached to his
belt. “They’ve been on my person the whole time. No one took the
key, which means someone broke in here and stole the file. The
question is, who?”

“And why.”

John jerked his head in a shake. “I know
why.”

“Because she killed Betty Collins?”

“We don’t know that for sure, Palmer. The
evidence doesn’t confirm it or rule it out at this point.”

“But it’s been three days. How come you
haven’t figured it out yet? They do it in like forty-five minutes
on CSI.”

“This isn’t television.” John examined the
lock on the file cabinet. “This lock wasn’t broken or picked, which
means someone used a key. And if it wasn’t mine then there’s
another key floating around that opens this file cabinet. You know
anything about a spare key, Palmer?”

He gasped. A little too astounded. “No. Of
course not.”

“Who in town wants Andra’s secrets
revealed?”

The deputy removed his hat and scratched his
head, like this was a surprise algebra quiz. “Whoever is trying to
blame her for Betty’s death?”

“Good. Now we just have to figure out who
that is.” John locked the back door. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” Palmer trotted behind him out the
front door.

“To hang around and see who knows what Andra
never told anyone. Whoever took the file will spread it around. But
if we can catch the rumor fast enough we might have a chance of
finding out where it started.”

John would have to address his deputy’s
attitude and belligerence later.

Across Main Street a crowd had already
gathered outside the Meeting House. From both ends of the street
people were walking toward the building and not one of them looked
happy. In fact, their faces were set to angry.

Not good.

“Excuse me.” John pushed between two men.
“Let us past.”

The interior of the Meeting House had been
recently redecorated. White pages of printed text and photo after
photo were pinned on the walls around the room.

“She did it.”

“For sure, it had to have been her.”

“Look at this.”

“Did you see that one?”

John turned in a circle. The pages covered
all four walls, even the windows. Olympia pushed in the front door
with Andra behind her. Andra’s face was flushed like she’d sprinted
all the way from her cabin. She gasped and did the same as him,
turning in a circle for a three-hundred-sixty degree view of her
history splashed around the room.

Groups of people gathered to read the pages,
while others turned to stare at her. Palmer walked to the wall
behind John, scanning as he moved along. Page after page.

Andra ran to a collection of photos and
started ripping them down. The glossy prints floated to the
floor.

“You can’t do that,” someone yelled. “We have
a right to know!”

Olympia strode over to the white-haired
lady—one of the sisters who’d been in the sheriff’s office
yesterday—and set her hands on her hips. “No one had the right to
do this. You are all invading Andra’s privacy. How would you like
it if your past was splashed all over, in full view of
everyone?”

“I’ve never done anything like this.” The
lady pointed her knobby finger to the wall. “Or that.” She swung
her arm aside, nearly smacking the lady beside her. “I want her
gone from here. She murdered Betty.”

Andra tore down sheets of paper almost in a
frenzy. Could she even hear what they were saying? John hoped she
wasn’t listening. He needed to get her out of here before this got
more out of hand.

Terrence, who John had met in the dinner line
Friday night, sprinted across the room. He pulled Andra’s arm back
and John winced.

She whirled around. “Don’t touch me!”

Terrence got right in her face. “You leave
that up, murderer. Then everyone will know what kind of filth you
are. We won’t have to put up with someone like you in our town
anymore.”

Andra slapped him.

Terrence swung around and his gaze found
John. “Did you see what she did? She just assaulted me. Arrest her.
Arrest her for Betty’s murder. She killed a sweet, innocent woman
and now she’s attacking me!”

“Terrence—” John moved to shut this down.

“Which one of us is she going to kill next?”
Terrence’s face was red.

“Take a breath, man. Okay?” John raised his
voice. “Let’s all calm down and take a minute. Palmer, start taking
this stuff down. Whoever did this needs to come forward. Your files
are confidential and I want to know who put this up.”

“She killed Betty!”

“We know she did it!”

John stuck his hands on his hips. “That
remains to be seen.”

“We know she did it. Of course she did,” an
old lady in a leather jacket said. “She was an assassin. She killed
Betty and she’s going to kill us too.”

John whipped his head around to Andra but
she’d already turned away.

An assassin?

She pulled pages off the wall, apparently not
satisfied with the snail-pace job Palmer was doing.

Terrence grabbed her arm again. Andra used
the momentum of his pull to turn and kick his knee out from under
him. Terrence landed flat on his back with a thump, choking from
the wind being knocked out of him. Another guy ran at her and John
moved, pushing aside two old men while Andra wrestled with the guy
trying to take papers from her.

John wrapped his arms around the guy’s torso,
lifted him and set him away from her. “Enough!”

Andra’s eyes sparked, her breath coming fast
and heavy. Her gaze flicked to the man behind John. Both of them
moved toward each other. John got between them again, shoving the
guy back. Andra grappled with his arm.

“Calm down.”

She struggled, sucking in air like she was
trying to breathe. Or trying not to explode.

“Andra, calm down.”

She kicked his leg. John took hold of both of
her wrists and held them by her sides. Her body bucked.

“Andra.”

She kept struggling.

“Andra, stop.”

“They—” She choked.

“I know. Calm down.” He dipped his head so he
could see her face. Her eyes were on the row of photos tacked to
the wall across from them. She sucked in another breath and
coughed. What sounded like a moan came from her throat and she
squeezed her eyes shut.

“I’m going to let go of you now.” He released
her and she stepped back, her body still shifting.

“You’re not going to put handcuffs on
her?”

John looked at Palmer, who blanched the same
color as the paper in his hands.

“She’s going into custody, right? You should
put cuffs on her. I know she’s just a woman but she’s a dangerous
fugitive.”

“Palmer—”

He took down another paper. “Everyone’s
waiting for justice, Sheriff. Aren’t you going to take her into
custody?”

“Did she murder Betty?”

“She’s a murderer. You see this, right?” He
shook the papers in front of him. “An assassin. No one was
expecting this. But it proves it, doesn’t it? She has to be the one
who killed Betty. Who else would have done it?”

“Palmer.”

Did he really think they were going to have
this conversation in front of a room full of people? Or that he was
going to talk John into arresting her?

“What’s more important right now is the
breach of Ms. Caleri’s confidentiality.”

It didn’t feel like that, though. John’s
chest hurt like something was tearing. An assassin? It was hardly
believable the woman who’d served Aaron and Pat lemonade could be a
cold blooded killer.

“I’m just sayin’.”