Chasing Shadows Read online

  Me? Cam frowned. “Avery, that doesn’t make any sense. They can’t do that.”

  “Well,” she shrugged, “they can, and they did. Bishop is the lead detective now.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I just know I’m tired.” She drew in a long breath. “Tired of Bishop and his shit, tired of being two steps behind in this investigation, tired of….just fucking tired.” Avery stood and began making her way to the front door.

  Cam rose and started after her. “Avery, wait…”

  Avery continued as if she hadn’t heard her, pausing only to pick up a set of car keys off the side table, and walked out the front door, leaving Cam standing in the hallway exchanging concerned glances with Mildred and Jane.

  “Well,” Mildred said after a long moment of silence, “that certainly could have gone better.”

  Cam sighed and rubbed at her forehead. “Mrs. Smith, now really isn’t the time.” Deciding she’d done enough damage for one day, Cam began to move for the front door. Cam could commiserate with Avery on one thing. She was fucking tired herself.

  “Wait,” Mildred rushed out, earning her a questioning glance from Cam. “Don’t rush off.” Mildred looked at Jane as if asking for permission, who gave a quick bob of her head. “We’ve got an idea.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Lord, remember that time we went to serve a warrant on the Lebo boys and Marshall stepped into that open septic tank?”

  “Oh, yeah. We had to pull him up out of it. Man, he stunk to high heaven. We hosed him off right there and made him ride in the back with all the windows down the whole way to the station.”

  “As I recall, they never did find his shoes,” Avery said, smiling a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She’d been at the station for hours, reminiscing about Bill Marshall. After the—whatever the hell that was—with Cam at the house, she’d driven around town and finally found herself back at the Sheriff’s Department. Deciding that if she really was going to take the Chief’s suggestion and take off a few days, she needed to get a few things out of her desk. She was on her way back out when she’d heard a few deputies talking in the breakroom about Marshall, an impromptu memorial as it were, and found herself drawn in.

  “Man, football season isn’t going to be same without Marshall walking down the hallway yelling “Roll Tide” at everybody.”

  “Lord, Jo couldn’t stand that,” Avery said, but her mind kept coming back to the conversation with Cam. “Hey,” she continued, “this may be a weird question, but do you know when we first got word of the accident? I had a...uh…a weird message at my office yesterday, and I’ve been wondering if it could have been someone calling to tell me about Bill.”

  “No,” Patrol Sergeant Miller said. “The accident happened over in Etowah County.” He shook his head. “From what I understand, Marshall’s son was the one who called the sheriff late last night to tell him what had happened.”

  “Must have been something else, then.” So much for that hope… “Any word on the arrangements?”

  “Miss Darlene is supposed to be sending out details,” Miller said. Frowning, he scratched at the stubble on his cheek. “Seems like if I remember correctly, he had a brother out West. Or maybe it was Jo? Either way, I imagine they’ll wait for him to fly in for the service.”

  Avery nodded and sighed. She felt a burning in her eyes and turned away. Regardless of the situation, she wasn’t going to allow herself to cry in front of the assembled officers in the breakroom, even if she did consider most of them friends.

  “I thought you were supposed to be on leave.”

  Avery didn’t try to hide the glare she threw Bishop as he walked in the room. She noticed Miller give the detective a similar look before rising from the table to fetch himself a fresh cup of coffee.

  “Not that it’s any of your business,” she growled, “but I had to pick up a few things from my office.” Avery flashed a smile at the other men. “I better get going. Let me know what you hear on the arrangements.”

  “Will do,” Miller said, pouring sugar into his coffee.

  Avery picked up the box she’d sat down on the breakroom table and left the room. Stepping outside the station, she was surprised to see that the sun was rapidly setting. She’d spent longer reminiscing about Marshall than she’d realized.

  She was almost to her car when she heard an unwelcome voice calling behind her.

  “Smith, wait.”

  She continued walking to the car, only turning to face its owner after she’d opened the back of the Impala and deposited the cardboard box inside. “What is it, Bishop?” she asked, slamming down the trunk.

  He opened his mouth and then, as if he’d forgotten what he was going to say, bit down on his bottom lip. He swiped off his baseball cap and ran a hand over his balding head. “I didn’t get a chance to say it earlier this morning,” he said finally, “but…I’m sorry about Marshall. I know the two of you were close.”

  Avery gave a curt nod and mumbled a half-hearted, “Thank you.”

  “One more thing…”

  She arched an eyebrow, allowing the irritation to flow freely from her face.

  He fidgeted from one foot to the other before putting the black cap back on his head. “I know you think I’m an asshole and just trying to get ahead…and…” He shrugged. “…you’re probably not wrong. But I don’t want, you know, hard feelings and all.”

  “If that’s your way of saying sorry for getting me kicked off my investigation…”

  “That wasn’t my call.” Bishop shook his head. “Besides, it should be wrapped up soon, anyway.”

  Avery cocked her head. “What should be?”

  “The investigation. I put out a bolo a few minutes ago for the ex-husband.”

  Really? “Did something turn up at the residence? Last night the lab said they’d found no trace evidence on or around the body.”

  “More or less. The house was clean outside of the dried blood on the front door. The lab said it’s O-positive. The victim was A-negative.” He adjusted his cap. “But, she’s got the ex-husband.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “We find him,” Bishop shrugged, “we find the evidence we’ll need.”

  This level of lazy police-work, even considering it was Bishop, surprised her. “Are you serious?”

  “C’mon Smith,” he scowled. “We’ve both worked enough of these to know that you rarely have to look farther than the spouse—or ex in this case—to find who did it.”

  “Sounds like you’re off to a stellar start, Bishop,” she said, not fighting to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

  It seemed to be lost on him.

  “I appreciate that,” he answered, standing a little taller. “Well, I won’t hold you up any longer. Enjoy your time off.” He nodded and turned back toward the station.

  Avery watched his retreat and then shook her head in disgust before climbing into the front seat of the police cruiser. And I’m a liability, she thought as she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street. It was time to seriously start reconsidering her future with the department.

  Opting to take the long way home, she let her mind wander as she drove. Despite the circumstances, maybe she did need a little time off. Lord knew she hadn’t taken a real vacation in ages. But, considering that she hadn’t dated in over a year, she really didn’t have anyone to take a trip with. She certainly wasn’t going to offer to go anywhere with Mildred and Jane. That was more her idea of hell than a vacation.

  Avery sighed as she brought the car to a stop at a red light. With a brief flash of Cameron Reinhart’s frilly lace bra flittering through her head, she decided maybe it was time to start putting herself out there again. While Bethel Springs offered very little in the way of relationship prospects, there was always the online dating options. And Birmingham wasn’t that far away, she could always—

  The thought was cut short by the sight of a Honda with o
nly one working headlamp—Avery’s Honda—entering the intersection. As it passed, Avery could see Mildred at the wheel and Cam in the passenger seat beside her. The silhouette of a third person—Jane, no doubt—was only just visible in the backseat.

  Avery sat there after the light had changed to green, trying to decide if her mind was playing tricks on her, until the car behind her blew its horn. She ignored the sound for another minute and then, cursing under her breath, made a U-turn.

  Thankful that there wasn’t much traffic out at that time of the evening, Avery quickly spotted the trio several car-lengths ahead. Keeping a safe tailing distance back, she frowned, wondering where in the hell the three of them could be going together. Both Cam and her grandmother had made it clear that they were each holding a grudge from their confrontation at the repast.

  When the Honda blew through a yellow light, Avery was afraid she’d lost them. Tapping her fingers anxiously on the steering wheel, she strained her eyes to keep track of the car’s taillights while she waited for the traffic signal to turn. Once it was green, she was off, catching up just in time to see the rental pull off the main road and into a subdivision.

  Jennifer Morris’s subdivision.

  Surely not…

  With a scowl, Avery turned onto the street lined with modest, upper-middle class homes. For a brief, fleeting moment she had the hopeful thought that there was some other logical destination they were heading to, and Cam and her grandmother were not, in fact, en route to a murder victim’s home.

  That thought was quashed by the discovery of her Honda parked just off the curb, under a tree a few houses down from Jennifer Morris’s. They’d obviously gotten out and walked so as to not draw attention. Mildred’s idea, no doubt.

  Turning off the Impala’s headlamps, Avery drove slowly past the Morris residence just in time to see a pair of pantyhose-covered legs shimmy into the front window of the house.

  “Damn it.”

  ****

  If she were to be honest, Cam would have to admit that she’d made some pretty stupid decisions over the course of her thirty-two years. Like that time in college she agreed to horseback riding with that cute History major—Tonya Whatsername—without actually knowing how to ride a horse. Then there was taking the dead end nine-to-five job at the claims department in San Diego right out of college because it was a job and it offered insurance. Of course, the trip to Vegas with Brenda would probably fall into that category as well, but considering that one had led to a six-figure income on one of the most popular television shows in America, she’d leave it off the list.

  Crawling through the window of Jennifer Morris’s house with a pair of dubiously sane octogenarians, however, definitely belonged there. At the top of the list, as a matter of fact.

  “Mrs. Smith, I really think this is a bad idea,” Cam said, looking warily around Jennifer’s darkened living room. “I mean, there’s yellow police tape across the front door that specifically says, ‘Do Not Cross’. What are we going to do if the police show up?”

  Mildred closed the window they’d all just climbed through and then turned to face Cam. “Nonsense,” she tutted. “I’m sure they’ve got better things to do with their time.”

  “Don’t worry, sweetie,” Jane said, dusting a dead lady bug she’d picked up scaling the side of the house off the front of her blouse. “We didn’t cross the tape at the door, we came in through the window.”

  “That’s right, Jane!” Mildred said triumphantly, as if that little loophole would somehow matter to the police. “Now, let’s find some lights and get on with business.”

  Lord, what was I thinking, letting these two talk me into this? Cam shook her head. “I don’t know that turning on the lights is such a great idea.” She took a step toward the window and peered outside, half-expecting to see a SWAT team swarming outside. “That would definitely alert the neighborhood that someone is inside.”

  Chewing on her bottom lip, Mildred nodded. “Good point. I like the way you think.” She held out a hand toward her partner in crime. “Jane…”

  “Here you go, dear,” Jane chirped as she turned on a flashlight and placed it in Mildred’s hand. “I’ve got one for all of us.”

  This obviously isn’t her first rodeo, Cam thought as she watched the elderly woman fish inside her purse and pull out two more flashlights. She accepted the small, blue flashlight then spent the next minute trying to figure out how to work it. By the time she found the “on” button, Mildred and Jane had left her behind, flashing their lights in and around the shadowy room like they were on the cover of a Nancy Drew novel.

  A beam of light flickered over a bookshelf, illuminating a framed picture of Jennifer on the beach. Kneeling beside a sand castle, the now-deceased woman smiled up at the camera, sending a shiver up Cam’s spine.

  “I really don’t think this is a good idea,” Cam said, rushing to catch up to Mildred and Jane as they headed out of the living room, running knee-first into an end table in the process. “Ow, damn it!”

  “You’ve said that already,” Mildred called out from the depths of the darkened house.

  Wincing, Cam rubbed what was left of her kneecap and continued on with a half-hop into the hallway. “Well,” she grumbled, “I feel like it bears repeating.”

  She caught up with them in the bedroom. Jane stood just at the edge of the bed, running a hand across the floral print comforter as if she were admiring it. Mildred was in the en suite bathroom, rummaging through the medicine cabinet.

  The room was just as Jennifer had left it the morning of her death. The bed made, a bathrobe hung on a hook by the closet door, a book open on the bedside table. Cam shook her head. It felt wrong to be there, in Jennifer’s intimate space.

  “So,” Mildred asked, stepping out of the bathroom, swinging her flashlight in Cam’s direction as she moved. “Do you feel anything paranormal-like?”

  Cam held a hand up to her face and blinked against the bright light. “No,” she answered, “it doesn’t work that way. And can you get that out of my face?”

  Mildred lowered the flashlight, but only barely. “Well, how does it work?”

  Hell if I know. “Not like that,” she griped. Cam opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to say next froze in her throat as the sound of a rattling at the front door broke through the otherwise quiet house. She didn’t have to ask the others if they’d heard the noise, too. The look on their faces spoke for itself.

  Ignoring the sudden stutter in her heart, Cam took a quick step toward Mildred and Jane, ushering them further into the bedroom. “Hurry,” she directed, “in the closet.” For a fraction of second, Mildred looked like she was going to argue, but then nodded and turned, pushing a wide-eyed Jane in front of her.

  Reaching the closet door, Jane came to an abrupt stop and began inexplicably rummaging through her purse.

  Seriously! “Miss Jane, now is not the time.” Fear twisted at her stomach as she heard the front door rattle again. This time, the sound was followed by the long creak of the door being opened. “We’ve got to get moving.”

  “I know, dear,” Jane said softly, as she pulled a pink rectangular object out of the bag and pressed it into Cam’s hand. “But I was just thinking that we may need this.”

  Had they not been in imminent danger of being discovered breaking and entering into Jennifer’s home, quite possibly by her murderer, Cam would have wondered why a sweet little old lady like Jane would be carrying a taser around in her purse. As it was, she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  “Just push the little button on the side to make it work,” Jane chirped.

  “And aim for the neck or the upper shoulder,” Mildred added as she opened the closet door and herded Jane inside. “It’ll do more damage that way.”

  “Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Cam muttered, making a mental note to have a long conversation with Avery about her grandmother when all this was over. She stepped in behind the pair, closing the door shu
t behind them.

  There was an awkward minute of jostling as Mildred pushed aside the hangers of clothing to make more room for the three to stand comfortably in the cramped space. Once she’d reached some semblance of settled, Cam strained to listen for any sound coming from the other side of the closet door. At first, nothing.

  And then…footsteps.

  The steady sound echoed in the silence of the house, seeming to get louder and more pronounced with each step. Cam licked her lips that had suddenly become parched and tried to steady her breathing. Behind her, she felt movement and then heard Mildred whispering something undecipherable to Jane.

  The footsteps grew louder. Whoever it was had now entered the bedroom and was moving methodically through the room. Cam could feel a presence drawing closer to their hiding spot. She steeled her resolve and tightened her grip around the taser as the handle to the closer door slowly began to turn.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In another setting, Avery would have relished straddling Cam’s hips while the other woman lay writhing beneath her—Cam’s arms pinned above her head, their breasts crushed together, faces only inches apart. In a secluded cave along a moonlit beach, maybe. Or perhaps, Avery mused, in front of the fireplace of a snowbound cabin. Not, however, on the bedroom floor of a murder victim’s house. And definitely not while her grandmother smacked her on the back of the head with what felt like a hardback book.

  “Grandma, can you stop hitting me?” Avery growled, ducking her head down and pulling her shoulders up to minimize the impact of the blows.

  At Avery’s words, all movement in the room stopped.

  “Avery?” Cam and Mildred said simultaneously in the same incredulous tone.

  “Yes,” she answered as Jane appeared by her side, brandishing a flashlight. Avery squinted at the bright light shined at her face.

  “God damn it, Avery, you scared the hell out of us,” Mildred barked, punctuating each word with a hard slap of the book across Avery’s back.