Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Cassie immediately answered Matthias’s call with a snippy, “I haven’t heard back yet. Give me some time, will you?”
“Time,” he said, “is an issue.” He caught her up on Nell running away, the failed search for her, and on Eric’s arrest.
Cassie swore. “How’s Emma holding up?”
Standing on the sidewalk in front of his car, Matthias glanced at the Jeep. Through the windshield, he could see she hadn’t moved and still rested her head on the passenger window. “Not well. I haven’t told her the latest about Eric yet.”
“What? How come you know and she doesn’t?”
“He called me instead of her. They had a… difference of opinion.”
“About what?”
“He told Emma that Nell was too fragile to deal with her right now.”
“And big sister Emma ignored him.”
“Right. Now, he blames her for Nell running away.” And if Nell overdosed, as Matthias feared she might, Emma would never forgive herself.
“Matthias, you stay close to her,” Cassie said. “She needs you right now.”
“Yes, Mom,” he said with only a touch of sarcasm. “That’s why I could use your help. If I can’t do anything more to find Nell, I need to at least make sure Eric doesn’t go to trial for Jones’s homicide.”
“I’ll do what I can, but you might want to take a different route.”
“Such as?”
“Come on, Matthias. Use your head. Investigate the crime. If I can’t get my guy to track down a solid alibi for Eric, go find the real killer.”
“That’s Fergusson’s job.”
“Okay. One, Fergusson’s an ass. And two, when has that ever stopped you?”
Matthias again looked toward Emma. This time, she was watching him. “Point taken.”
“Good. I’ll be in touch.”
The line went dead. Matthias pocketed his phone as he walked back to the Jeep.
“What’s going on?” Emma asked.
He blew out a breath. “Eric called. He’s been arrested.”
Her lips parted into an O as she processed the news. “Don’t they need probable cause to do that?”
“Yep.”
“Having an argument with someone in a public place doesn’t constitute probable cause, does it?”
“Not by itself, no.”
“Well, then?”
Matthias pinched the bridge of his nose. “According to Eric, he was driving back to his office when a cop pulled him over and asked if it would be okay to search the car.”
Emma shrank. “Don’t tell me he gave them permission?”
Matthias replied with a sigh.
“Oh no. What… what did they…” Her voice trailed off.
“A trash bag. Eric insists it wasn’t his. He had no idea how it got there or what was in it, and the police didn’t tell him, but apparently it was enough to convince a judge to sign an arrest warrant.”
“Someone had to plant it there.”
Matthias had no words to comfort her. Someone. Who? And how? The easiest answer was that Eric was indeed guilty, but was Eric stupid enough to allow a search of his car if he knew there was evidence in the trunk? Matthias strongly doubted it.
Tears gleamed on her lashes. She looked exhausted. Beaten. Matthias checked his watch and realized they’d missed lunch. “Let’s get something to eat. Then I’ll drop you off at the hotel, and I’ll track down Fergusson to find out what they’ve got.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Starving yourself won’t help anyone.” He tipped his head toward her. “None of this is going to be resolved in a few hours. We have to brace ourselves for a marathon, not a sprint.”
She held his gaze for a few more seconds, then let her head drop back against the seat. “I know you’re right. I’m still not hungry, but I’ll try to eat a little.”
* * *
Matthias couldn’t convince Emma to go inside a restaurant to dine, but she agreed on getting Mexican takeout from the place next door to the hotel. They ate in the room before he wrangled a promise from her to lay down and take a nap.
He didn’t call Fergusson until he was back in the Jeep.
“Give it a rest, Honeywell,” was the trooper’s response to Matthias’s request for information. “You might not believe it, but we’re pretty good at what we do.”
“I’m not arguing that fact. I want to know what evidence you found that justifies arresting Eric Baker.” Before Fergusson could shut him down again, Matthias added, “I also thought you might want to know what we found out about Nell Anderson’s whereabouts.”
“Where is she?”
Matthias smiled to himself. The bait had worked. “Let’s meet and talk about it.”
Fifteen minutes later, Matthias stood in front of the Pub on Main for the second time that day.
Was it still Monday? God, it felt like a week had passed.
Fergusson and Lukan came around the corner. “Let’s keep this meeting short,” Fergusson said as they approached. “I’d like to get home at a decent hour.” He looked smug. “Especially since we’ve got this case wrapped up with a bow.”
“Or you’re trying too hard,” Matthias said. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
From Fergusson’s dark expression, Matthias knew he was on the verge of pushing the trooper too far. But Matthias wasn’t going to apologize.
The potential to learn more about Nell Anderson apparently overpowered Fergusson’s irritation. He led the way inside.
The hostess appeared and guided them to a corner table with a clear view of the front door and offered them menus. Fergusson and Lukan accepted. Matthias held up a palm. “I already ate, but I’ll take a beer. A local ale.” He gave her a smile. “You choose.”
She blushed. “Will do.”
After scanning the menu, Fergusson set it down and rested his elbows on the table. “Okay, Honeywell. Out with it. Where’s Nell Anderson?”
“You first. What did you find to link Eric to Jones’s homicide?”
Fergusson looked at his partner, who shrugged. Bringing his focus back to Matthias, Fergusson said, “It’ll be public knowledge before long anyway. We found the murder weapon.”
A waitress appeared and placed a frothy mug in front of Matthias. “Are you gents ready to order, or do you need a few minutes?”
Lukan folded his menu and placed it on the table. “I know what I want.”
“So do I,” Fergusson said.
The waitress jotted down their choices and collected the menus. Once she was out of earshot, Matthias asked, “You found the knife?”
Fergusson shook his head. “The autopsy showed he’d been stabbed, but not by any of the usual items you think of where stabbings are concerned. Turns out it was a shard of glass.”
“What kind of glass?”
“The lab is still running tests. We received an anonymous tip to check the contents in the trunk of Baker’s car. Sure enough, we found a trash bag in his trunk containing a bunch of broken glass, including one piece with blood on it.”
Anonymous tip, Matthias thought. Nothing suspicious about that. But he kept his sarcasm to himself.
“The type matches the victim,” Fergusson continued. “It’ll take a while to get DNA analysis, but preliminary tests show the shard’s consistent with the fatal wound.”
Matthias lifted the mug to his lips, sipped, and used the time to ponder the new developments. “You said Jones was stabbed. Isn’t it possible he was pushed or fell through the pane and was impaled on the fatal shard?” Which still didn’t explain how it got into Baker’s car.
Fergusson shook his head. “Unlikely. If he’d gone through the glass, even accidentally, the body would show evidence of other nicks and cuts. There were none.”
“I have a question for you.” Matthias set down his mug and locked gazes with the trooper. “Your tip about Baker’s car was anonymous. Then he happily gives your man permission to search the vehicle. Why would he do that if he’s the one who put the murder weapon there?”
“You know as well as I do that an anonymous tipster is a legit reason to act on the information, and in this case, we hit paydirt. As for why he willingly gave us access, not my problem. We got him in possession of the glass with the victim’s blood on it. That’s all I need.”
Before Matthias could pose another question, Fergusson stopped him with a raised palm. “Your turn. Where’s Nell Anderson?”
Matthias took another sip before responding. “What does it matter? You’re convinced you have your killer.”
Even in the dim lighting, Matthias could see Fergusson flush. “Baker and the Anderson girl are close. She’s likely a witness if not a co-conspirator. Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said—”
“I said I’d tell you what we found out.” Matthias told him about tracking Nell to the supermarket and then to the Highlander.
“That’s where we lost her. She doesn’t have her phone with her, so we can’t ping it.
She’s hitchhiking, so we don’t know what kind of vehicle she’s in.
She’s been using cash, so there’s no credit card trail.
” He didn’t mention the cash had been taken from Emma’s wallet.
And Emma was keeping an eye out for charges on the card Nell had stolen from her.
So far, nothing. “If Nell doesn’t want to be found, she’s not gonna be. ”
Fergusson grunted. “Your girlfriend can’t be too happy about that.”
Matthias didn’t reply. Fergusson had no idea how unhappy Emma was.
The waitress returned with the troopers’ drinks—sodas, since they were still on duty—and hurried away.
Fergusson picked up a paper-wrapped straw and tore off the end. “Oh, by the way, lest you think I’m cutting corners, I looked into Baker’s so-called alibi.”
Matthias met his gaze. “And?”
“He did in fact check into the Pine Gables Inn on Saturday and checked out on Sunday. Paid cash.”
“Then why is he under arrest?”
“Because he checked in at 3:10 in the afternoon and checked out shortly before eleven the next morning. No one could confirm he stayed in his room the entire time. Cleveland isn’t that far away.
I can make the trip in just over two hours if I drive straight through.
He had plenty of time to check in, come back here, kill Jones, dispose of the body, and return to his room at Pine Gables. ”
Just as Cassie had pointed out.
“Sorry to tell you, Honeywell, but your friend’s guilty as hell. Once again, your judgment is seriously flawed.”
* * *
Emma paced the hotel room, pausing only to check her credit card online for the fortieth time today. No notifications. No new charges. No breadcrumbs to suggest where Nell was. Or if she was still alive.
I need an oxy and a drink to wash it down.
Nell’s words and the desperation in her voice echoed in Emma’s memory. The combination would slow Nell’s heart and respiration. She would drift off to sleep and possibly never wake up.
And Matthias wanted Emma to take a nap. She almost laughed at the idea.
Something else he said merged with Nell’s words on a repeated loop in Emma’s brain. He’d said this was a marathon, not a sprint.
Emma’s boss at ErieLIVE expected her back at work by the weekend, provided she made her doctor’s appointment on Thursday.
It was now late on Monday. If all this wasn’t resolved, if Nell wasn’t found and Eric wasn’t cleared within the next forty-eight hours, Emma would need to beg for more time.
She doubted she’d get it and would be forced to make a decision.
Abandon her sister and her best friend, or give up her job.
Giving up her position with the news outlet, going back to scrounging work as a freelance photographer, might also mean leaving Erie.
Leaving Matthias.
Leaving the life and love she was only beginning to believe was real. Going back to being alone in the world.
A click at the door put a stop to her downwardly spiraling thoughts as Matthias entered. She swiped her damp cheeks before he could see her tears.
If his expression was any indicator, whatever he’d learned wasn’t good. He flipped the deadbolt, tossed the key card on the desk, and flopped onto the bed with a groan.
“It’s bad,” she said without needing to ask.
“It’s not great.” He told her about the gaping hole in Eric’s alibi and the trash bag full of broken glass, including the blood-covered shard, found in Eric’s car.
“How on earth did it get there?”
“I’d like the answer to that one myself.”
“And where’d the glass come from? There were no broken windows at Eric’s house.”
“Fergusson wouldn’t say anything other than that the lab is still testing it.”
“Sounds to me like they didn’t find any shattered glass at Eric’s office or Sonny’s house either.”
Matthias’s jaw was set, his gaze focused on something other than what was in their room.
Emma sat next to him. “What are you thinking?”
His lips parted, then closed again, as if he was still piecing his thoughts and words together. Another minute passed before he spoke. “Where did the murder take place?”
She sensed he didn’t expect an answer from her.
“If the police found the primary crime scene, Fergusson would’ve told me. A broken window would be obvious. Then again, we don’t know the glass came from a window.”
“Maybe someone shoved Sonny through a glass door.”
“Fergusson doesn’t believe that to be the case.” Matthias still didn’t look at her. “Who’s the anonymous caller that supposedly saw Eric put the trash bag in his trunk, and how did they know what was in the bag?”
She didn’t have an answer.
“With Eric confirmed as being in Cleveland, is it reasonable to believe he could drive back here, kill Jones, clean up the broken glass, bury the body in a downpour, and drive all the way back to Cleveland?”
Emma’s pulse quickened. “Eric’s too smart to leave evidence in his car.”
For the first time since Matthias entered the room, he met her gaze, a glint in his eyes.
“Yes, he is, and I don’t think being outed by a drunken jackass is motive enough for him to drive all that way to kill him.
I might believe Eric could shove Jones through a window in a fit of rage, but we’re talking some serious premeditation here. ”
Emma couldn’t imagine Eric swatting a fly, but something Matthias had just said clicked to the forefront of her mind. “You said an anonymous caller saw Eric put the evidence in his trunk?”
Matthias didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.
“Whoever the witness was would’ve had to be at the murder scene.”
“If we believed Eric was the killer.”
“Which we don’t.” Emma fingered her hair. “The anonymous caller has to be the real murderer.”
“I agree,” Matthias said. “So who else wanted Sonny Jones dead? Who else had motive?”
“Besides Nell and me, I assume.”
“I don’t think him being a jerk was the sole reason our killer wanted him dead.” The glint in Matthias’s blue eyes was flickering into a fire.
“If it was, the line of suspects would reach from here to Erie and back. So, what do you think?”
“I want to follow the money. Who stands to benefit from Jones being out of the picture?” Matthias grinned. “Who gets control of North Star Developing?”
“I… don’t know.”
“Neither do I. First thing tomorrow, we’re going to find out.”