CHAPTER 9
Mac gritted his teeth, staring at Geoff’s picture. It was on the memorial wall in the firehouse's vestibule. “Where did you hide those damn coins, you sneaky son of a bitch?” he said under his breath.
In the first year after Geoff died, Mac had patience, thinking he’d find the coins easy enough. Now it’d been three years of growing frustration, and his vexation plagued him every damn day.
Mac had wondered if Lainey had found the coins and didn’t know what they were or their worth. Maybe she’d simply tucked them under the bed or in a closet.
But maybe Lainey had found them and did in fact know what they were. She could’ve stashed them in a safe deposit box at the bank, waiting to spend the money on her daughter’s college or for a rainy day.
Mac sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. His frustration was getting the best of him. He was ninety-nine percent sure Lainey was truly clueless about their existence.
Mac needed to get in her house and rummage through it, though. Geoff couldn’t have gotten far with those coins.
Mac was on the brink of losing everything. He’d basically already lost Paige, his wife. But he couldn’t afford a divorce attorney, let alone groceries right now.
Three years of searching, patiently thinking they’d turn up. But no, his suffering was unbearable now. His world was caving in. Mac needed that money. He’d been parking three blocks away from the firehouse so the repo man wouldn’t find his truck. He hadn’t paid the payment for six months.
Mac stood alone with a microfiber towel in one hand and cleaning spray in the other. His assigned chore today was dusting. He continued to stare at Geoff’s picture, scoffing.
Mac thought about coming out and telling Lainey about the coins, but he knew there was no way she’d understand.
He could tell her Geoff had been stepping out on her most of their marriage and for the last two years had a steady sidepiece in town too, but he knew Lainey wouldn’t believe him.
Plus, he wouldn’t smear his best friend’s name, no matter how mad he was at him for dying before splitting the loot.
Geoff’s girlfriend tended bar at the Mexican restaurant in town. The same one Geoff had eaten dinner at before coming upon the Bingman fire that night.
The chick was opposite in every way from Lainey. She knew Geoff was running around on his wife and was fine with it. It was purely physical between them, at least that’s what Geoff said.
Mac had been surprised he was shitting where he ate.
He told Geoff that he was cutting it close having a girlfriend in the same town his family lived in.
He suggested he should at least have her in the next town over, but Geoff somehow made it work.
Geoff and the chick apparently had an understanding.
Mac would bet Geoff and his loose-legged lady were planning on meeting that night after her shift. Hell, maybe they did. Especially since Lainey was out of town.
Geoff had everyone bamboozled. His parents, Lainey, the fire chief, and even their church. Everyone thought Geoff was a saint who did no wrong. But he was far from it.
Geoff loved Lainey, but a part of him was just pleasing his parents by bringing her back to Abilene and starting the perfect little family.
But on every hunting trip, guy’s night out and any opportunity Geoff had, he’d pick up one-night stands. And boy, some of them were doozies too.
Once on a bachelor’s trip to Vegas with some guys from the firehouse, everyone had called it a night and went back to their hotel rooms at about three-am. Geoff, unbeknownst to the rest of their party, had gotten a number from a dancer at a club earlier that night.
Geoff was one smooth operator. He gave Mac a thousand dollars to play the blackjack tables downstairs in the hotel’s casino while he “entertained” the lady in their room.
When Mac protested the generous monetary contribution to his gambling fund, Geoff said, “Just split your winnings with me and we’re even, buddy.
” Then he winked and gave him that familiar sinister grin Mac couldn’t help but chuckle at.
Come to think of it, Geoff kept him out of the poorhouse the year before his death. He was always slipping Mac a thousand here and there and would say, “I know you need it, and I know you’d do the same for me if the shoe was on the other foot.”
When Mac asked once how Geoff could afford it, he replied, “I did really well in the stock market this past year and am still making money from some solid investments. Seriously, I’m happy to help,” then he’d wink with a menacing grin and slap him on the back.
Mac had a problem with bets, and Geoff had a problem keeping his dick in his pants, but they kept each other’s secrets, and it worked fine supporting each other’s bad habits.
Then it dawned on him. What if Geoff and his girlfriend met up after the fire? What if she knew where the coins were hidden?
Mac leaned back and shook his head. His pulse raced. Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? He needed to track her down. He remembered she went by Sam, but hell, he never learned her last name. Shit. Was there a chance she still worked at the Mexican restaurant?
* * *
Lainey glanced at the time as she slathered moisturizer on her hands.
Robert said he wouldn’t be able to call until late tonight.
He’d be teaching combat maneuvering techniques and advanced weaponry training, which would go late.
Lainey told him she didn’t mind staying up and to call when he could, no matter the time.
Every day she found herself yearning for the sound of his voice, anticipating their nightly phone calls.
Lainey tucked herself into bed. She loved her new plush duvet and downy sheets. She’d purchased a new nightstand and lamp too. She sat up in bed and examined the room lit up by the soft glow of the lamp. Lainey subtly smiled. For the first time, the room felt like hers, and hers only.
She imagined Robert lying in HER bed more often than she’d like to admit. And if Cora ever did an inquisition, she’d ghastly deny it.
She was reading a romance novel, which didn’t help keep her mind off Robert in her bed either, but it helped keep her awake awaiting Robert’s phone call.
Yes, their phone calls had become part of her bedtime routine. Robert would call her when he came home, often late in the evening, or he’d sneak off to call her when he was Charge of Quarters keeping watch at night in the barracks.
He’d ask how her day was and she’d ask the same of him. Lainey had learned by the tired, hoarse sound of his voice whether he’d had a rigorous day or not.
She found the drills and training he led fascinating, but he always showed more interest in her daily life, and she could tell he was learning her temperament from the tone of her voice too.
The phone rang, and she picked up before the second ring.
She perceived from the worn sound of his voice, it’d been a trying day.
After their usual routine niceties, she found her opening, “Listen, I don’t know your rotation schedule with the other DSs” she listened to herself and realized she’d learned some lingo and sounded so legit, “but this coming Saturday, Viv is spending the night at her cousin’s house, and I was wondering if you’d like to come over for dinner?
” Before he could respond, “If you can’t come, it’s no big deal.
” She barely took a breath. “It’s silly to think you’d even have the time, isn’t it?
” she exhaled with a forced, uncomfortable giggle.
There was a second of silence from Robert’s end. He seemed to be contemplating the question. It felt like time itself stood still, and Lainey mentally cringed, anticipating his answer.
“I’ll make it work,” he said curtly.
“I’m not putting you out, am I? I know how tired you are and how early you wake up. Please don’t feel obligated to come. You won’t be hurting my feelings if you don’t want to.” She’d finally shut her flytrap, realizing she was rambling.
“No, I actually have Saturday evening off and the following Sunday morning too. I was planning on asking you to dinner,” he snickered, “but you beat me to it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” She heard the grin in his voice.
Her face tingled as she felt her cheeks tighten with a smile. Cora was right. Lainey was indeed smitten and now eager to see Robert more than ever.
* * *
“Lieutenant O’Connor, you’re wanted at the front. A Jan Bingman is here to see you, and she’s accompanied by two others.”
Jake let out a sigh into the receiver. “Tell her I’ll be right there.” Sure enough, she’d meant it. Jan told him if Moore wasn’t available, she’d be asking for him.
When Jake opened the door to the lobby, he found Jan eager to see him. She was gripping the shoulder strap of her purse so tightly, her knuckles were white.
Beside her stood a teenage boy and, his mother, by the way her hand was on his back nudging him along. “Ms. Bingman, how can I help you?”
“This is Drew Thompson and his mother. Drew is here to give a statement of what he witnessed the night of my uncle’s fire,” Jan said.
“What he witnessed? We already know how the fire started and have several statements from the first responders...”
“Not about the fire, Lieutenant.” Jan corrected, “About the missing coins.”
Jake looked square at the young man, who stood casually with his hands in his pockets. “Mr. Thompson, you know something about the missing silver dollars?” Jake glanced at Jan, then looked back at the teenager. “The ones Ms. Bingman is looking for?”
His mother gave him a tiny shove. “I guess,” he shrugged.
“Tell him what you told me,” Jan prodded.
“I saw a guy take some boxes that a firefighter handed him through a back window. Then he got in his truck and drove off,” Drew said.
“Those were the coins, Lieutenant!” Jan was even more keyed up now.
“When he told me the next morning about this,” his mother stated, “I thought the firefighter and this man were saving valuables and pictures for the family. I’ve heard of firefighters doing that sort of thing.”
“How do you know they were coins, Mr. Thompson?” Jake addressed the young man directly.
“He dropped one of the boxes running across the yard, and I saw silver coins spill out. He gathered them up, then drove away.”
“It was Geoff Wickham, Lieutenant. That’s who he saw,” Jan added.
“Son, this happened three years ago. How old were you?” Jake asked.
“He was fourteen,” the mother chimed in, “and he’s seventeen now.”
“Where were you when this man ran away with the boxes?”
“I parked my bike and hid behind a tree behind the house,” he said. “I was sneaking up to get a closer look at the fire.”
Jake nodded. He mentally cursed Detective Moore for getting him involved, whether he meant to or not. “Okay, would you two please have a seat? I need to talk with Ms. Bingman first, then I’ll bring you back to take your official statement.”
The mother and her son picked two seats in the waiting room. Jake opened the door for Jan. He led her to a small conference room and motioned for her to sit. “Can I get you a water or coffee, Ms. Bingman?”
“No thank you,” she sounded as curt as she looked.
He took the chair across from her. “Ms. Bingman, how’d you find this boy? And how do you know what he’s saying is true?”
“I’ve been knocking on doors. Something Detective Moore should’ve done.”
“What do you mean?”
“Drew Thompson lives one block away from where my uncle’s home was.
One hour ago I knocked on his door. I explained to his mother who I was and that I’m conducting my own investigation into the missing coins,” she said with confidence.
“That’s when Drew overheard our conversation and came to the door. He told me what he’d seen.”
She continued. “Emergency vehicles and spectators were in the street, in front of the house. It was night. They wouldn’t have noticed a teen in the alley with the chaos, let alone Geoff Wickham running off with my coins!”
She caught her breath. “Listen, that young man told me he watched a man, not a fireman, fumble with the top box before dropping it midway through the backyard. Drew watched the man hastily scoop the coins back into the box, then drive off with them.”
She sighed. “I’m convinced the man was Geoff Wickham. He was off-duty that night. He wouldn’t have been wearing fireman’s gear.”
Jake crossed his arms. “And how do you know it was Geoff Wickham?”
She hesitated a second. “Drew recognized him from his picture.”
“You have a picture of Wickham?” Jake said surprised.
Jan scoffed reaching into her purse. She pulled out a folded photocopy of Wickham. She flattened the creases on the table.
“Did you print this from online?” Jake said, inspecting it.
“Yes, his obituary.”
The woman was made of gridiron. Nothing was going to move her conviction of these coins’ existence. Though Jake had to hand it to her. She’d found a lead. If it really was one.
“Jan,” Jake addressed her by her first name, hoping it would ease her tension, “Wickham died a hero trying to save your uncle. You realize his family is part of this community? Are you sure you want to tarnish his reputation with an allegation like this?”
Jan let out a long breath. “Lieutenant, the truth is the truth. If this young man’s statement leads us to the coins, then I’m sorry if a hometown hero’s character is blemished. I can’t help that. And neither can you.”
Jake stood. “Okay, I’ll get Drew Thompson’s official statement for the record.”