Chapter 12 #2
Nell inhaled deeply and blew it out. “Let’s not go down that road. But yeah, rehab might be what I need right now.”
Emma’s heart swelled. “Good.”
Nell stood. “At the moment, what I really need is a shower. Then more coffee.”
“Fair enough. I’ll meet you in the kitchen when you’re done.”
* * *
As Matthias drove, he placed a call to Fergusson, who agreed to meet at an address in downtown Washington, Pennsylvania. Matthias programmed his GPS app while suspecting he was about to make a deal with the devil.
He found a parking spot on the street near the county courthouse less than a block away from his destination, which Matthias quickly realized was the Pub on Main—the location of Eric and Jones’s confrontation.
Fergusson and a younger Black man in a suit stood outside the entrance, scowling as Matthias approached. Fergusson waved a thumb between the two of them. “Trooper Kobe Lukan, Erie Detective Matthias Honeywell.”
They shook hands. “Fergusson told me you’d be joining us,” Lukan said.
“Yeah,” Fergusson grumbled. “Even though there’s no way I should allow this.”
Matthias opted against pointing out all he’d requested was a meeting to talk about the case. Hell, if Fergusson was giving him access to the actual investigation, he wasn’t going to argue. “I won’t open my mouth,” Matthias said, “except to drink coffee.”
Fergusson continued to glare. “You do know I’d send any other out-of-town cop packing.
Especially one with the personal connections to the suspect that you have.
” His frown turned into a smirk. “But I trust you’ll shut up and just listen.
Maybe you’ll even pick up something Lukan or I miss.
” Fergusson leaned closer to Matthias and dropped his voice to a whisper.
“I assume you’ve learned your lesson about becoming personally involved. ”
Matthias had been right. He was definitely making a deal with the devil. Rather than tell the trooper where to go and what to do once he got there, he simply met Fergusson’s gaze, certain the trooper could read Matthias’s thoughts.
“Excuse us.” Three businessmen stood on the sidewalk, waiting.
Fergusson stepped aside to let them enter the establishment.
Matthias took the opportunity to regain his composure. “What have you come up with in the way of suspects?”
“I know you don’t want to hear it, but I really like Eric Baker for this. That’s why we’re here. I want to talk to anyone who witnessed his altercation with the victim.”
“He was in Ohio at the time of Jones’s murder.”
“Once he hands me proof of that, I’ll take him off my list. Until then, he stays at the top.”
“He stayed at the Pine Gables Inn. I spoke with the front desk, but they wouldn’t give me any information without a warrant. You might have better luck.”
Fergusson motioned to Lukan who tapped a note into his phone.
“Who else do you have?” Matthias asked. “Besides Baker?”
Fergusson began ticking off names on his fingers. “The wife, obviously. Then there’s Patrick Winslow, the foreman. Your girlfriend, Emma Anderson—”
Matthias leaned forward and started to protest.
Fergusson flashed a palm. “You asked the question. If you don’t want to know my answer, you should head back to Erie right now.”
“Emma was with me.”
Fergusson didn’t blink. “You might be on my list, too. You alibi her. She alibis you. Besides, she would’ve needed help burying the body.”
Matthias crossed his arms. “If you seriously considered me a suspect, I wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t let me anywhere near your investigation.”
A hint of a grin tugged at Fergusson’s mouth. “Well, you got me there. Emma Anderson is pretty far down on my list. Her sister, on the other hand, is right up there with Baker.”
Matthias decided against arguing. Once Eric’s alibi was confirmed, Nell would be cleared as well. Which left Ashley Jones and the Winslow guy.
Fergusson reached for the door. “Shall we?”
* * *
Emma had a feeling the current situation wasn’t going to be wrapped up in time to make her doctor’s appointment tomorrow.
While Nell showered, Emma phoned his office and managed to reschedule for Thursday.
She optimistically hoped two additional days would suffice, but it still meant she wouldn’t be back at work on Wednesday as planned.
Her next dreaded call was to her boss. She’d only held her crime beat photographer job at ErieLIVE for a couple of months.
Requesting personal time, especially when she had no idea how long it would take to get things with Nell straightened out, was a huge ask.
After Emma explained the situation as best she could, Laurie granted her two more days, but her tone suggested more would be problematic.
After hanging up, Emma used Eric’s computer to research inpatient rehab facilities. She made a list of those with good ratings and recommendations and planned to compare notes with Eric later.
Nell appeared in the doorway, her hair wrapped in a towel and wearing an oversized robe, probably Eric’s. “Your turn,” she said.
Emma logged out and left Nell playing with her phone in the guest room.
The hot, pelting stream of water stung the wound on her left shoulder.
Although she was healing well, Emma still felt the effects, not only from the gunshot but also from the concussion.
The headaches and dizziness were rapidly dissipating, but not fast enough to suit her.
After a few seconds, the pain from the water vanished completely, allowing her to soak away the dirt and sweat.
If only her fears and doubts were so easily washed away.
As good as the shower felt, Emma decided running up Eric’s water and gas bills would fix nothing, so she shut off the faucet, reached for a fresh towel, and scrubbed the excess water from her short hair.
She found bandages in the medicine cabinet and applied them to her shoulder.
Realizing she hadn’t thought far enough ahead to bring in a change of clothes—and Matthias had taken the Jeep with her duffel bag—she slipped her clean body back into the same tank top and jeans before opening the bathroom door.
Nell wasn’t in the guest room when Emma returned to it. Hopefully her sister was downstairs eating some breakfast. She was so painfully thin.
Emma collected her phone, padded down the steps, glanced into the empty office on her way to the kitchen, and found it to be vacant as well. “Nell?” she called. She headed to the basement and Eric’s man cave. The lights were out, the television off. “Nell?”
Getting no response, she took the steps two at a time, ignoring the ache in her head.
“Nell,” she shouted, more insistent. Still no answer.