Chapter 27
CHAPTER 27
P rofessors Anderson and Swatcher were talking over each other to my dad while Josh sealed the evidence bag with the bloody knife in it.
“Enough,” my dad snapped. Both men immediately fell silent. “You’ll have plenty of time to tell your side of the story at the police station.”
I rolled my eyes at their bickering and Ian moved closer beside me when a black SUV pulled up at the curb. The doors opened, and out stepped Stone—along with the man from the hospital stairwell and the garden incident.
“Agent Stone.” I greeted him with a grin, then glanced at his companion. “And this must be Agent?—”
“Agent Sadler,” the man supplied, his expression unreadable.
“I win that bet, Agent Stone,” my dad said, his arms crossed. “My daughter figured you for an agent, and she found the secret passageway.”
“Technically, Anderson found it first and he works for us,” Stone corrected.
“But she found it on her own, not by following a suspect,” my dad clarified.
“He’s got you there,” Josh said, with a grin even wider than mine.
I turned to Stone. “The vanishing guy works for you too, doesn’t he?” I barely paused before continuing. “Let me guess—you offered him a deal to avoid jail. He didn’t live up to his end of the bargain and you came looking for him. He was last spotted in the surrounding area, so that’s what brought you here. What I can’t figure out is why you’re undercover as a biker.”
Then it hit me.
“Oh, wait, I got it. Everything went south fast, and the FBI needed someone embedded immediately. You were already undercover as a biker in the area, so you kept the pretense because it kept you more relatable to the vanishing guy.”
My dad beamed with pride. “I told you she’d figure it out.”
“So, what deal did you make with the motorcycle gang you arrived with in exchange for showing up with you at the cemetery?” I asked. “An easy assumption since they weren’t seen again after that.”
“She’s good,” Agent Sadler admitted. “Most people wouldn’t have noticed that detail.”
“Sheriff Madison did,” Josh said defensively, standing up for our dad. “He was suspicious of you since the beginning.”
Stone chuckled. “I guess I’m losing my touch.”
“Or Willow Lake’s Sheriff’s Department is a lot sharper than you give them credit for,” my dad countered.
Stone laughed. “I didn’t expect you to have a secret weapon.” He nodded toward me.
Ian’s arm slid around my waist. “I assume you’ll be leaving soon since this case is nearly done.”
“We’ll be gone once we finish tying up loose ends.” Stone’s gaze landed on me. “Now, I need all of you to come down to the police station for interviews about what happened in the mausoleum.” Stone smirked. “And I’ll be handling yours personally, Spicy.”
My dad stepped forward. “I don’t think so and her name is Pepper. I’ll do the interview, and you can sit in if you’d like.”
Ian leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Your dad is the best.”
I smiled. To me, my dad is my superhero, and he always will be.
Chaos erupted at the police station as soon as we arrived.
The second Anderson and Swatcher spotted each other, they started arguing and throwing accusations so fast that I wondered if they’d rehearsed this moment.
Stone barked out an order. “Separate rooms. Let them cool off.”
Sadler took Amy and Beau to be interviewed, while my dad and Stone sat down with Ian and me.
I detailed what happened quickly, eager to ask questions of my own.
Stone leaned back in his chair, watching me carefully and when I finished, said, “How convenient that Anderson just happened to find the bloody knife in the passageway.”
“Or how convenient that he wants us to believe he just found it,” Ian suggested.
“Anderson most likely is working with you guys to clear his name. It doesn’t make sense that he would kill anyone,” I said.
“Unless he’s guilty and doesn’t want us to figure that out,” Stone countered.
Ian nodded. “So, he misdirects.”
“Shifts the blame onto Swatcher,” Stone agreed. “Who, for all we know, was never guilty in the first place.”
My dad leaned forward where he sat at his desk. “But let’s not forget what Pepper said—Swatcher did hire Jones to help him. That’s already suspicious.”
Stone nodded. “And maybe Jones got too greedy and wanted a bigger cut, so Swatcher killed him.”
Ian offered another possibility. “Or maybe Anderson and Swatcher were working together all along, and Anderson turned on him to save himself.”
I glanced at Stone. “Tell me about the vanishing guy?”
Stone hesitated.
And I knew then—whatever he was about to say, it was big.
“You’ve seen for yourself how talented my daughter is when it comes to solving a mystery, even one with a web of players,” my dad said, his tone carrying a clear challenge. “Why not see what she can offer you? Unless, of course, you feel threatened by her skill.”
Stone stood and crossed the room, glancing out the window for a moment before turning his attention to a large rubber tree plant nearby. “I wish they’d add plants in the FBI offices. Sterile spaces lack calm.” Then he looked at me. “Funny that you keep calling him the ‘vanishing guy’ since his name is actually Guy, Guy Braven. Not that you’d expect it from looking at him in a hoodie and biker boots, but he’s a high-end thief—one we caught by accident.”
He folded his arms across his chest and continued. “The way he operated reminded us of another master thief from years ago—one we never caught—known as The Shadow. We suspected Guy was working with him, handling the jobs the aging thief couldn’t pull off anymore. He confirmed it. So, we made a deal. He’d help us take down The Shadow, and in return, we’d work something out for him.”
“And then he slipped away from you,” I said. “No wonder he’s so talented.”
Stone sighed. “Disguises himself just like The Shadow did. We never even came close to catching him.”
I tilted my head. “Then why did you tell Sadler in the hospital stairwell that you wanted him gone?”
“I was worried that either The Shadow or one of Guy’s contacts was in Willow Lake. If they got wind of him being here, they’d either get to him first—or eliminate the problem. What I didn’t expect was to run into an even bigger problem.”
Stone flashed me a knowing smile.
“Excuse me, but I figured out the players in this game, corralled two suspects, and found the secret passageway.”
Stone smirked. “And yet… you still haven’t found the Willow treasure.”
Ian, ever my biggest fan, responded before I could. “She will soon enough.” There was pure confidence in his voice, and I couldn’t help but smile.
Stone chuckled. “No doubt, Sp?—”
Spicy almost fell from his tongue but he caught my dad’s warning look.
He quickly corrected himself. “Tell me, Pepper, who do you think murdered Jones?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
Stone stepped forward. “You must have an idea. It’s one of either two men.”
“That’s just it,” I admitted. “It makes no sense. Both Anderson and Swatcher are professors—academic types, not exactly known for their fighting skills.”
“I can attest to that,” Ian muttered.
“And why would either of them want Jones dead?” I asked, thinking out loud.
Stone went for the obvious. “He wanted a bigger cut.”
I frowned. “But don’t you think either of them would’ve just given it to him?”
“Maybe he kept demanding more and more,” my dad suggested.
Stone exhaled, frustrated. “It’s time I found out.” He turned to me. “You have an eye for details, Pepper. I need you and Ian to write statements—everything you recall. Give them to your dad so they can be added to the case file.” He straightened. “That’s all I need from you for now. You’re free to go, but I might call on you again before we wrap this up.”
“We’ll be here,” Ian said, reaching over from his chair to take my hand. A very clear territorial move.
Stone smirked. “Noted.”
My dad waited until Stone left, then squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll talk to you later, Pepper.” And with that, he hurried after Stone.
Amy and Beau were already finished with their interviews and waiting for us when we emerged from my dad’s office.
Amy groaned. “I need a scalding hot shower after crawling through that tunnel with rats.”
“You didn’t crawl, and there were barely any rats,” I corrected, chuckling.
She shuddered. “One rat is too many.”
As we walked toward our vehicles, Beau asked, “So, Pepper, who do you think did it—Anderson or Swatcher?”
I let out a frustrated breath. “I don’t know,” I admitted, for a second time and annoyed that I hadn’t cracked that part of the mystery yet. “The whole thing needs to be picked apart. Like… where did Waters fit into all of this? Could he and Swatcher have been working together? Or is Anderson actually guilty?”
Amy sighed. “That’s a lot of unanswered questions.”
I nodded. And I hated unanswered questions. Because that meant one thing.
This wasn’t over yet.
Ian and I had barely settled on the couch—me curled up against him with a glass of wine, Ian absently rubbing Mo’s ears when he suddenly rushed to the door. Someone he knew was coming up the driveway.
Mo, talented at many things, unlocked the door.
Ian smiled. “Your dad.”
I wasn’t surprised. He had said he’d talk with me later, and knowing him, he wouldn’t wait until morning. Amy had gone straight home with Beau, muttering about needing to “detox from the tunnel of nightmares.”
My dad greeted Mo with a good rub and a, “Hi, Mo.”
He still wore his uniform, his sheriff’s badge catching the warm glow from the lamp. His sharp gaze scanned the room, then landed on me. “Figured you’d still be awake.”
“Did you really think I was just going to go to bed without hearing from you?” I asked. “Come on, Dad. You raised me better than that.”
“She does have a point,” Ian said. “Can I get you something? Peach iced tea perhaps?”
Ian knew that was my dad’s favorite.
“Thanks, Ian. I’d love a glass.” Dad sighed, lowering himself into the armchair across from us. “Figured you wouldn’t sleep until you learned more.”
Mo had followed him, tail wagging, and Dad absently scratched behind his ears. “As expected, Anderson and Swatcher wasted no time blaming each other. The second they sat down in separate interview rooms, they both claimed the other was responsible for Jones’ murder. Anderson and Swatcher are claiming the same… they were framed by the other one.”
“So, basically, a full-fledged ‘he did it, not me’ situation,” I said.
My dad nodded as he accepted the glass of peach iced tea from Ian. “Neither of them has a solid alibi. Swatcher was home alone preparing for a lecture. Anderson claims he was in his office at the university and claims someone must have seen him. So, we’re going to see if anyone can confirm that.”
I leaned forward. “And the knife?”
“Josh sent it to the lab. If Anderson’s prints are on the handle, he’ll claim it’s because he found it. If there are no prints or if they’ve been wiped clean, we’re back to square one.”
“Do you believe either of them did it?” Ian asked.
Dad rubbed his hand over his jaw. “Honestly? I’m not sure. Anderson swears that Swatcher planted the stolen coins on him because he had mentioned to him that valuable museum pieces had been stolen in the towns where Swatcher had been treasure hunting and Anderson asked if he was aware of them. Swatcher swears he has no idea what Anderson is talking about. That he never planted anything on him let alone stolen coins and he knows nothing about robberies where he went treasure hunting. He claims Anderson is jealous because he had the confidence to search for the Willow treasure while Anderson had brushed it off as a myth.”
“What does Stone think?” Ian asked.
“He says it’s too early to tell and he hopes Guy regains consciousness soon since he could probably offer some help. He believes one of the two men had to be involved in some way.”
My dad finished his tea and stood. “Your mom is keeping supper hot for us both and I am looking forward to having a meal with her since we barely have had time to see each other. I fear I will never have a homemade meal again if she gets elected mayor.”
“How is Mayor Barrett?” I asked, having forgotten to ask Mom for an update.
“He’s doing well. Bragging how he’s a new and improved man and he will serve the residents of Willow Lake better than he ever has.”
I was surprised to hear that and asked, “How does his wife feel about that? She seemed so sure he would back out of the race.”
“Mayor Barrett has too many irons in the fire to back out. He’s done some good things for the town, but I believe those were a diversion to keep people from seeing the things he did and plans to do that will benefit him more than the town.”
“Mom has a lead on him in the polls. I think she’ll win the race.”
“I think you’re right. The townspeople trust your mom and well they should. She’s the most honest person I know. And the person I am eager to get home to. If you have any insights into this case let me know.”
“I see your mind going, Pep,” Ian said after my dad left.
He was right, my mind was shuffling around all the information we had so far. “Let’s say Jones was working for Swatcher. He knew about the tunnels, maybe even had an idea where the treasure was, and agreed to help—for a price. But what if he was playing both sides?”
Ian shifted. “You think he was working Anderson, too?”
“Maybe,” I said and shook my head. “I just can’t wrap my head around Anderson willingly being involved with a master thief.”
“I have to agree with you, but someone planted those coins on him. Why?”
“Waters,” I said, his name suddenly popping into my head. “He could have been on some of those treasure hunts, and he had the key Jones was looking for and maybe Guy Braven did as well.”
Ian nodded. “A possibility. But I’m even more curious about something else.”
I grinned sheepishly. “I know what you’re going to say.”
He tapped the tip of my nose with his finger. “Do you now?”
“I didn’t think before going into that tunnel alone with Amy,” I said and tapped his chest. “But you’re wrong. I knew as soon as you got my text you would rush over to the Mercantile, just as Beau would when he got Amy’s text. And I knew you wouldn’t hesitate to follow me into the tunnel. So, I entered confidently, knowing I had backup coming. You told me you would always rescue me, and I never doubted your word.” I smiled. “Besides, I didn’t want you to miss the fun of discovering the secret passageway. And you arrived just on time.”
Ian kissed me. “Thanks for including me.”
“I’d never leave you out of such an exciting adventure.” A sudden thought had me scrunching my brow. “Leave you out.”
“I know that look. You just thought of something.”
“We’re leaving something out, missing the last piece of the puzzle that defines everything. It’s like finding my aunt’s journal and finding out the story behind Ignatius and Claire.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” Ian said, surprised.
“I’m sorry. In all the excitement I forgot. I’ll get the journal for you to read while I pop some popcorn and get us more wine.” I hurried to the library and grabbed the journal for Ian.
While the popcorn popped, I watched how intently Ian read the journal and felt how lucky I was to have someone who shared so much in common with me and he wasn’t bad on the eyes either.
Hugging a bowl of popcorn and holding a bottle of wine, I joined him on the couch. I refilled our wine glasses and settled beside him to munch on the popcorn while he read. Though his hand found its way into the popcorn bowl now and again.
“This is amazing, Pep. What a love story.”
“The missing piece, my aunt’s journal, helped fill in the puzzle piece.”
“But not find the dowry, though your aunt is confident you’ll find it.”
“Missing pieces. You can’t finish a puzzle without all the pieces.”
“And you intend to find all the puzzle pieces, don’t you?”
I grinned. “You know me well.”
“Too well and it frightens me to know that a dark tunnel filled with rats wouldn’t stop you.”
“It wasn’t filled with rats.”
“Enough rats to rattle Beau.”
I laughed. “He and Amy make the perfect pair, though I don’t know how they’d fair together in a standoff with rats.”
Ian took me in his arms. “It worries me how fearless you are.”
“Worry not,” I said. “I have countless heroes to save me, a Highlander, a Viking, and now a biker and soon… a gunslinger.”
He kissed me. “Promise me?—”
I tapped his chest. “I know, I know. Promise you I’ll be careful and not do anything reckless.”
Ian chuckled. “You say that like you actually intend to listen.”
“I have no daring feats planned,” I said jokingly.
“That, mo ghràdh, is when you get into the most trouble.”