Chapter 38
Emery
“If you come across anything else, let me know. Thanks.” I end the call as a knock sounds on my door.
“Yeah?”
Terry pokes his head in. “Howdy, stranger.”
“Hey.” I wave him in. “What are you doing here?”
“I was nearby for a case.” He drops into my guest chair, his shrewd gaze raking over scattered pages of news articles I printed out. “You going old school, McAllister?”
“I guess I am.” I smile. “Paper copies help me think sometimes.”
He picks up the Toronto Star article that triggered all this. “‘Armed Jewelry Store Heist,’” he reads out loud before scanning the rest and whistling. “Four armed thieves made off with half a million in jewelry. Damn. They ever find these guys?”
“They didn’t. A woman walking her dog placed a white utility van with tinted windows near it that morning, but she didn’t get a license plate.”
“Probably stolen, anyway.” Terry scans the date printed on the top of the page. “This is from twenty years ago. Light on the traffic camera footage, I guess?”
“Yeah, and the store’s cameras didn’t give much away.”
“At least no one got hurt.”
“Right? They discharged two rounds into the ceiling to scare the staff into not moving while they got away.”
He frowns curiously. “Is this an official case or a pet project for you between mind-numbing meetings with Doug the Drip?”
I snort at the nickname, earned equally for the man’s perpetual nasal leak as his monotone voice. “It’s a hunch. Let’s leave it at that for now.”
“Fair enough.” Terry sets the page down. “How are things around here?”
“Quiet.” I knock on my wooden desk.
“Your daughter?”
“She’s hanging in there. Exams went okay.” Far from her best marks. “She has a crush on our neighbor’s nephew who she met over the Christmas break. He’s from Calgary. They talk a lot. It’s cute.”
“And he’s a four-hour plane ride away. Best kind of forced abstinence.”
I cringe as I admit, “Not gonna lie, it’s a plus.”
We share a laugh that dies just as quickly.
“She’s having more good days than not, though, so that’s progress.”
“That’s how these things go, right? Tragedy strikes, and you don’t know how you can possibly move on, but you do. Slowly, but you do, because you have to.”
“Don’t I know it.” I could be a textbook example. Except moving on doesn’t seem like the right term. That makes it sound like you’re the same person you were, but you’re not. You’re forever changed, reshaped in the only way that allows you to carry the grief forward with you.
I know I was never the same after that night.
And it hurts to know I’ve lost a version of Isla.
Terry settles in his chair. “And my favorite family? What have the Murphys been up to?”
“Let’s see … Shane’s getting six months for stealing those TVs.
He’ll be out in two. I heard Charlie got caught up with a big bust in Sudbury, so we’ll see how that goes for him.
As far as Axel and Hank are concerned, my people are keeping an eye on them.
They haven’t given us anything yet, but they will. ” They have to.
Terry’s lips purse. “I had this case about five years ago. A twenty-five-year-old woman went missing and left a bloody crime scene behind. We were convinced her boyfriend did it. Everything pointed to him. History of abuse, anger issues, all that. Everything but actual evidence. I tailed him, and then I had a surveillance team follow him around, waiting for him to make a mistake. But we couldn’t catch him.
” He shakes his head. “That case still haunts me.”
“I can imagine.” Just like I foresee Holly’s case haunting me in five years, especially if we don’t figure this out.
“You really think the Murphys had something to do with it?”
“Honestly, I don’t know.” All I know is Logan didn’t. “Either way, Hank needs to be off the streets. He has sins to pay for, and it’s only a matter of time before he ruins people’s lives.” Just like his brother did.
Terry hesitates. “So, look, I thought I’d mention this. Sometimes I hear things I don’t wanna hear. I don’t ask to hear it, but somehow this shit always lands in my lap—”
“Spit it out.”
“Brad Whitley’s trying to whip up trouble for you.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s old news.” My chuckle is bitter. “That started in the fall. He’s been quiet lately, though.” So quiet that I started to think I might finally get a reprieve from him.
“Yeah, guys like him don’t let up.”
“What’s he doing now?”
“Well, Freeman pulled Schmidt and me into his office and grilled us about Holly’s case, and he was keen on getting more info about Logan Landry’s alibi for that night.”
I school my expression, even as my stomach clenches. “And what’d you tell him?”
Terry shrugs. “Exactly what’s in my report, and that I really don’t think Landry had anything to do with it.”
I’m careful not to show my relief. “Brad’s convinced Logan went after Holly and that I’m protecting him.” Dillon basically alluded to that before Christmas.
“That’s idiotic.” He hesitates. “Freeman also said there’s been speculation that you and Logan Landry are in a romantic relationship and asked if we’d seen or suspected anything to validate his claim.”
As quickly as I found a moment of relief, tension seeps back into my body. “And?”
His eyes are level on me when he says, “I told him I didn’t see anything to suggest that, no.”
But what about what you suspect?
Terry doesn’t say, and I don’t dare ask.
“Freeman’s angling to find a way to get rid of me. He’s been doing it since he was promoted,” I say instead.
“Yeah, I’m definitely getting that vibe. Anyway, just a heads-up.” He eases out of his seat with a leisurely stretch, as if he didn’t just deliver ominous news.
“Thanks, Terry.”
“No problem.” He winks. “And think how much you hated me at the start.”
I smirk. “Was I that obvious?”
“Nah.” He knocks on my desk. “Have fun finding your thieves.” With his signature lazy salute, he departs.
I study the scatter of pages in front of me with determination.
I’m pretty sure I already have.
“Good game!”
Isla smiles at the parent offering the compliment as we walk out of Cold River’s arena. “Did you see how Courtney kept going offside? Three times in a row!”
“I guess it wasn’t her night. You guys still won.” With a lucky bounce-in goal, mind you.
“Not like it counts. I don’t know why’d they’d book an exhibition game when playdowns start next week. What if someone got injured?”
“They want you guys game ready. Stop complaining. At least we only have a twenty-minute drive. The rest of your team has almost two hours ahead of them. Now, where are we again?” I scan for the Landrys’ pickup in a parking lot full of trucks.
Logan flashes his high beams at us. He came out ten minutes ago, both to warm it up and to avoid idle chitchat with people while waiting for players to emerge.
“Can I drive home?” Isla asks, hopeful.
“It’s not my truck.”
Logan hops out of the driver’s seat as we approach. “What was with forty-three? Does she know what the blue line means?”
“Right?” Isla slings her bag into the back and tosses her sticks in after as if they didn’t cost three hundred dollars apiece. “Can I drive home?” She punctuates that with a toothy grin.
Logan’s eyebrows arch. “You want me to sit in the back seat?”
Of all the silly things he’s had to endure since getting released, redoing the graduated licensing program might top the list. I have to ride shotgun for either of them to be allowed to drive.
“Come on.” She throws back her head with a groan. “How am I ever going to pass my test if I can’t practice?”
He laughs. “Okay, kid. If your mom’s cool with it.”
“Yes!” Isla throws her arms in the air and the next thing I know, she’s climbing into the driver’s seat.
“You sure about this?” We round the truck together. It’s technically not even his truck.
“Let her drive. She’ll be doing her road test before I can, anyway.”
“Thank you.”
He steps in close, until his chest is touching mine, his hand grazing my fingertips. “You can thank me when we get home.”
“I plan on it.” I stretch onto my tiptoes to inhale the scent of him and whisper in his ear. “Believe me, I’ve been waiting to all day long.”
From the corner of my eye, the cherry-red tow truck catches my attention, squashing the moment. I frown. “Is that Axel Murphy’s?”
Logan follows my gaze. “That’s definitely his truck.” He adds a beat later, “And there he is.”
Axel strolls out of the rink with Mandy Crombie by his side, another of Isla’s old teammates. I know every single one of those girls and their parents, and I know for a fact Alison and Mark would not approve of their seventeen-year-old hanging out with this guy.
They’re heading for his tow truck.
“Stay here,” I order Logan and then march over. “Hey, Axel. Mandy.”
“Ugh. Fuck,” Axel curses. “Here we go.”
Meanwhile, Mandy’s smile is nervous. “Uh … Hi.” I’m sure there’s been plenty of talk about me after I questioned Erin at the tournament last November.
“Where are you two off to tonight?”
“She played a game and I’m giving her a ride home. Is that a crime?”
Others are filtering out of the arena, noting the exchange and slowing down to spectate.
“It’s a question. How do you two know each other?” I direct that at Mandy.
“We just do. That’s how,” Axel answers for her.
“Like you knew Holly Monroe?” I keep my tone even and friendly, but any mention of Holly leaves people on edge these days.
“What?” Mandy’s eyes widen as she looks to Axel. “You knew her?”
A dark cloud passes over Axel’s expression as he glares at me. “I know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?” Besides testing him.
“This is why you’ve been harassing me and my uncle for weeks, isn’t it?
Following me around, driving by my house.
You’re trying to pin what happened to Holly on me?
” He stares at me with incredulity. “Really? ’Cause I know what I saw that night, between Holly and your boyfriend over there.
” He gestures behind me, and I can only assume it’s at Logan.