Vegas Vacation (14 page)

Three hours passed before the fire was out. Martin exited the car and crossed over to the smoke-blackened fire chief, Nick Jefferies, who stood talking to Lt. Wagner from homicide. “Well?” he demanded. “What did you find?”

“It's arson. We found three bodies in there. Along with this.” Jefferies held out a burned and charred photo ID. Half of Tamlyn's face remained visible.

“No...” Martin turned away, heaving, losing the coffee he'd drank.

“Is this the first fire he's done since he was injured?” Jefferies asked.

Vance put a hand on Martin's shoulder. “That's his wife's ID.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.”

Lt. Wagner frowned. “Wife? Isn't that the woman he's protecting?”

Vance jerked his head. “Long story, best saved for later.”

Martin wiped his hand over his mouth. “I want to see the bodies.”

Jefferies shook his head. “I'm sorry, Martin, but the only way to ID any of them is going to be dental records.”

“I don't even know which one in the UK she goes to.” He sucked in a deep breath. He'd promised to keep her secret, but they had to know. “Tam has one of those partial plates. Her front left tooth is false.”

“I'll make sure the coroner knows.”

Jefferies handed Wagner a bagged gun. “This was by one of the bodies.”

“Thanks. I'll get ballistics on this.” Wagner took the bag. “I'll tell the coroner to rush the autopsies.”

“Thanks.” Vance turned to Martin. “Come on, let's get you home. You can crash at our place tonight.”

Martin followed Vance to the car, his soul aching for the woman he'd loved and lost. He was a fool. Tam had died thinking he was indifferent to her and for that, he could never forgive himself.

 

****

 

Fifteen hours after she left Vegas, Tamlyn's plane touched down in London. From there, she caught the train to Headley Cross. She'd stayed with Aunt Agatha many a time, and despite the ten years between visits, felt like she was home.

Incredibly tired, but not wanting to doze and miss her station, Tamlyn watched the familiar landscape unfold from the windows of the train. The huge green fields in neat boxes with darker green hedgerows and yellow fields of rape seed were so different to the deserts of Nevada. The small red brick houses, the polar opposite of the sprawling yellow mansions she'd seen the past few days.

Grey clouds covered the sky, rain threatening to fall, mirroring the way she felt inside.

Tamlyn disembarked the train taking several deep breaths of the cool English air. She could almost feel her aunt's arms around her. She should have insisted on coming here when her mother died.

Tamlyn's footsteps echoed in the quiet streets as she walked the half mile to her aunt's house. She mounted the steps and rang the front doorbell.

A tall man with a shock of dark hair exited the house next door. “Can I help?”

Tamlyn glanced over. “Hi, I'm looking for Agatha Murdoch.”

“I'm sorry, but she doesn't live there anymore.”

Confusion filled her. “This is Eighteen Golf Course Road?”

“Yes.”

“Could you tell me where I can find her? She's my aunt. I sent her a text telling her I was coming.”

His face fell. “I'm sorry. She died a couple of weeks ago. The police are treating it as a suspicious death.”

Tamlyn staggered back, almost missing her footing and falling off the top step. “What?”

“I'm sorry. Is there someone I can call for you?”

“No. Sorry to have bothered you.” Tamlyn turned, tears filling her eyes.

Now what do I do, Lord? I have no one, ‘cept You.

She trudged along the road, tears falling in a steady stream. As she reached the High Street, she passed the café. The smell of cooking and coffee assailed her senses. She glanced at the name. Three-Sixteen. A sign in the window announced it was a Christian café run by Headley Cross Baptist Church—the one her aunt had attended.

How long had it been since she'd eaten? Not since Martin cooked yesterday. Yesterday? Was it only yesterday that her world had been shattered into a million tiny pieces? And everyone she ever loved died?

Tamlyn rubbed her hands over her face and, heading inside, found a free table. She sat and picked up a menu.

“Tamlyn?”

She glanced up and into a pair of warm brown eyes. “Lia.” She stood and embraced the woman. “How are you?”

“Fine. What are you doing back here?”

“Just visiting.” She sat down. “Do you work here now?”

Lia nodded. “Have for a while. What have you been doing?”

“Not much,” she said quietly. She ran her fingers over the ring she still wore. “Can I have the fish and chips and a mug of tea, please?”

“Of course. Is everything all right?”

“Everything's fine.” Tamlyn watched Lia cross to the counter and buried her face in her hands for a moment.
Get a grip, Tamlyn. You can cry when you find a hotel room
.

Her food came and Tamlyn ate without enthusiasm. Headley Cross was so quiet after the hustle and bustle of Vegas. And in spite of the fact Martin confused her, she missed him.

She missed him more than she missed her father.

Fresh tears ran down her face, seeing the shootings again in her mind—first Martin, then her father. Outside the pale sun vanished behind the clouds and a heavy rain began to fall.

A tall figure blocked what little light there was and Tamlyn glanced up into the sparkling grey-green eyes of an auburn-haired man. Concern filled his face. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, everything's perfect.” Tamlyn paused, realizing she'd bitten his head off for no reason. “I'm sorry, that was rude.”

The man held out a hand. “I'm Pastor Jack Chambers. I'm one of the pastors of the church that runs this place. What's your name?”

Tamlyn took a deep breath before she reached out and shook his hand. “Tamlyn.”

“Would it help to talk?”

“I don't know. I guess.”

Pastor Jack sat opposite her. “What's bothering you?”

“Everything. I came to stay with my aunt, only she was killed, and no one told me. I can't go home…” Tears streamed down her face. Her words tumbled in an uncontrollable rush. “See, they killed Martin and Raleigh and Dad, only he wasn't my dad, and they tried to kill me, only I escaped and—”

“Slow down,” he said gently. “When was this?”

“Yesterday, they shot Martin then Dad.”

“Have you spoken to the police?”

“No, I'm on the run. I got a flight here, thinking Aunt Agatha would keep me safe, only she's dead and now I have nowhere to go.”

“What about your husband? Does he know where you are?”

Tamlyn glanced up. “How do you...?”

Pastor Jack nodded to her left hand. “Wedding rings.”

She glanced down. She never had given Martin his grandmother's ring back. “No, Martin's dead.”

“Excuse me one moment.” He got up and headed to the next table to speak with the men sitting there.

Tamlyn pushed aside her plate and pulled her purse from her bag. She counted out enough to pay for the meal and leave a tip. Putting the notes on the table, Tamlyn stood and headed to the door. It didn't matter where she went, so long as it wasn't Vegas. She'd fled a crime scene…the police would no doubt arrest her on sight. Then send her back.

“Tamlyn?”

“Yes?” She glanced around at the Pastor's voice to find him standing behind her with the two men. Now what did he want?

“These are friends of mine from the local police force, Nate Holmes and Dane Philips. Could you tell them what you told me?”

Terror knotted her stomach. “I have to go,” Tamlyn whispered.

“It won't take a moment, Miss...?”

Tamlyn looked at the taller of the two men, his shock of dark hair spiking up from his head at all angles. Her heart ached as Martin's hair did that first thing in the morning. “Just Tamlyn.”

Both men held out warrant cards.

“I'm DS Holmes, and this is my partner DS Philips. We're with Thames Valley CID. Pastor Jack tells us you witnessed a couple of murders?”

Tamlyn inclined her head. Tears ran down her face. “They killed Martin, Dad, and Raleigh and tried to kill me.” She turned away. “I can't go back, they'll blame me again.”

DS Holmes glanced at the others. “We'll do this down the station.”

He had a ‘no nonsense' tone in his voice and Tamlyn figured it was only a matter of time before his request turned into an order and he arrested her.

 

 

 

 

17

 

The small interview room at Manor Road Police Station consisted of a desk, computer, phone and the most uncomfortable chair Tamlyn had ever sat on. She had a mug of strong tea in her hand, with nowhere near enough sugar in it. She eyed the dark haired officer then looked down at the chipped and stained blue and white cup, before finally giving him her full name. “Lady Tamlyn Marybeth Bradshaw.”

“Your father is Lord William Bradshaw, Earl of Warwick?”

“Yeah…he was.”

DS Holmes glanced at her. “You go by your maiden name?” He nodded to her ring. “How long have you been married?”

“Two days, I think. It's not what it looks like.”

“Can I ring your husband? Tell him you're safe. If someone's trying to kill you—”

“They shot him, too. He's dead.”

DS Holmes nodded. “I'll need his name and number anyway. Just to check.”

“I don't know the number. Sgt. Martin Ames. He's a detective with the Vegas PD.” Tamlyn twisted her rings. Perhaps she could post them back to his sister...recorded delivery or something safe.

DS Holmes found the number and dialed quickly. “Hello, could I speak to Sgt. Martin Ames, please? Yes, it's DS Holmes with Thames Valley CID. No, I can't leave a message, this is an emergency. I'm calling from the UK. Do you have a number I can reach him on, please? Yes, I'm aware of the time difference.” He grabbed a pen and wrote rapidly. “Thank you. Bye.” He dialed again. “He not in the hospital or dead. He's at his sister's.”

He was alive?
Tamlyn caught her breath.

“Hello, could I speak with Sgt. Ames, please? This is Detective Sergeant Nate Holmes with the Thames Valley police in Headley Cross, England. Yes, it's in connection with his wife. Thank you.”

Tamlyn twisted her ring harder, marking the skin around her finger. What would his reaction be? Would he even come to the phone?

 

****

 

Martin paced across the room. He didn't want to be here, he wanted to be at the morgue getting the autopsy reports, not waiting on a phone call from the coroner.

Vance came in and handed him the phone. “It's for you, a Detective Sgt. Nate Holmes, Thames Valley Police in England.”

“What does he want?”

“I have no idea, but he says it's got something to do with Tamlyn.”

Martin snatched the phone. “This is Sgt. Ames.”

“Hello, my name is Nate Holmes. I'm with Thames Valley CID in Headley Cross. We've got your wife here.”

What kind of a sick joke or cruel trick was this? “Say again?”

“I said, we've got your wife here at Manor Road Station in Headley Cross. She claims someone is trying to kill her.”

Vance's phone rang.

Martin divided his attention between trying to listen to two conversations at once. As Vance smiled, he looked at him and covered the phone he held. “What?”

“It's not her. The woman who died in the fire had all her own teeth. It's not Tamlyn.”

Martin sat silent for a long moment and then returned his attention to the phone in his hand. “Sorry, yes I'm still here. You say Tamlyn's there?”

“She's sitting opposite me.”

Faint hope bubbled within him. “Can I speak to her?”

“Just one moment and I'll put her on.”

 

****

 

Tamlyn grabbed the phone. “Martin?”

“Tam...”

“You sound relieved.”

“I thought you were dead. We found your driver's license in the ruins of that house, along with a woman's body.”

“I wondered where it was. It must have fallen from my bag. Fortunately I still had my passport otherwise they'd never have let me on the plane.”

“Why run away? Why not wait for the emergency services here? Vance and I were on our way to find you.”

Tears filled her eyes. “I heard the gunshot in the hotel, saw you fall. Thought you were dead. Garth kidnapped me and after I got away from him and Daniel, I came to stay with my aunt, but she's dead and so's Dad, only he's not my father.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Tam, hon. Slow down. Where are you now?”

“Like the sergeant said, I'm in Headley Cross in England.”

“Stay put. I'll be on the next flight.”

“You don't want to be anywhere near me. You made that abundantly clear.”

“That's not true.”

“I should never have gotten you into this mess.”

“I can't do this over the phone. I'm coming over on the next flight I can.”

“Whatever.” Tamlyn handed the phone back to DS Holmes.

She crossed the room, leaning heavily against the wall. Wrapping her arms tightly around her middle, she closed her eyes, tears falling down her cheeks. Just hearing Martin's voice had brought all her feelings for him to the surface.

Oh, God, thank You for sparing Martin. My life is a mess now. I don't want to do this here, now with the police…
But then Dad, Raleigh and Aunt Agatha need justice.

DS Holmes looked over at Tamlyn. “Lady Bradshaw, we need to talk.”