CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
They decided to tell the Police as little as possible. They didn’t even mention LeeAnn. And because they had nothing to hold them on, and since neither of them had even drawn their weapons, they were allowed to leave.
Marti wanted to stay longer, to see if she could get more answers, but Grant wanted her out of Memphis. That detective, a man Marti had trusted, wanted to silence Kamille. That cockamamie story about her reaching for her gun was bullshit and they both knew it. But why did he want to silence her all of a sudden? If it wasn’t related to Marti, then why would they wait until Marti was in town to silence her?
No way was Grant allowing her to remain another hour in that town. They took the next flight back home.
But when they arrived in town that night and Grant was driving them home, he was still holding her hand as Marti was still digesting it all. Until she said something that caught Grant’s full attention. “She was such a good friend to me. Had it not been for her, I wouldn’t have even had this job. She got me this job.”
Grant looked at her. “Kamille got you the consultant’s job?”
Marti nodded. “Yeah, she did. She knew I was running out of my savings fast and was struggling to make ends meet. I was thinking about working at McDonald’s just to get some income. That’s when she told me to go to Florida, that the Assistant AG’s office was hiring a slew of police consultants to help them clean up some bad police departments in their state. She said the pay was lousy, and most of the people they hired were kids straight out of college looking for a temp gig until their real jobs came through, but she said with my police background I could do that job with my eyes closed. And I agreed with her. And since I was looking to leave Missouri, because that’s where I was at the time, I decided to apply. And I got approved right away.”
“And you assumed that was because of your extensive police background,” said Grant.
Marti nodded. “Why wouldn’t I assume that?”
“It never occurred to you, because it sure as hell occurred to me as soon as I saw your credentials, that you were super-duper overly qualified for the position?”
Marti thought about it. Then she had to agree with Grant. “I knew I was overly qualified, but I was in a place where I was barely able to get out of bed. I had been going from state to state and town to town in those different states. I was eyeing McDonald’s when Kamille phoned me, that’s the kind of shape I was in. I needed help, and she knew it.”
“And maybe she exploited it to her end,” said Grant.
Marti looked at him. She knew she had blinders on when it came to her friends in Memphis, just like Grant had blinders on when it came to his peeps in Belgrave. But just like she was able to show him the way in Belgrave, she knew he could show her the way regarding her Memphis connections. “How did she exploit me?” she asked because she wasn’t connecting the dots.
“She tells you about this lowly job in Florida. You get the job easily when most employers would declare you were too qualified and therefore conclude you wouldn’t be a good employee. They wouldn’t want to touch that. But they hired you lickety-split.”
“Okay I’m following you there. But I still don’t see how me getting this job helps Kamille.”
“Think about it, Marti. You get the job. Your first assignment is in Belgrave. On the very day you show up, and I mean within minutes of your arrival, Belgrave suffers its first mass casualty event in the history of the town. The very first one on your very first day.”
Marti continued to stare at him. “Go on.”
“Then, in that same week, we suffer our second mass casualty event in history! That’s a hell of a coincidence.”
Marti couldn’t help but agree with that. “But I’m still not seeing how this helps Kamille.”
Grant ran his hand across his tired face. “I don’t see it yet, either, but there has to be one. Because then, a month later, Eric Peterson shows up, your friend and Kamille’s flunky boyfriend. And he tries to kill you twice.” Grant shook his head. “Something stinks in Denmark. We just have to figure out why.”
Marti leaned her head back. “What’s going on?” she asked with anguish in her voice. But she didn’t ask it so that he could answer her because she knew he couldn’t, but so that she could verbalize her own internal frustration. And her own dread that whoever was behind all of this was relentless. And that they weren’t going to quit until she was sleeping in her grave. In Belgrave.
Marti was scared.
Until Grant realized something. “Wait a minute,” he said and Marti looked up at him. “Wait a minute,” he said again.
“What is it, Grant?”
It looked as if Grant’s mind was searching through his rolodex of information and was trying to pull something out. “Is it a K or a C?”
“Is what a K or a C?”
“Kamille. How does she spell her name?”
“It’s Kamille Oliver with a K.”
Oliver , he thought. “I remember.”
“You remember what?”
“I remember that name.”
“What name? Eric’s name?”
“No. Kamille’s. I saw that name.”
Marti was suddenly hopeful. “Where?”
And Grant suddenly realized where. He quickly looked in his rearview and then made a quick U-turn.
“Where are we going?” Marti asked him. “Back to Memphis?”
“No,” he said. “To the police station.”
Marti didn’t know why, but Grant seemed to know exactly why. She was willing to let him continue to work it out internally and she’d find out once he had.
She leaned back and remained silent.
And hopeful.