Chapter Two #2
Livvy nodded, and while she looked as if she was totally in control, Ethan noticed her hand tremble a little when she started writing.
“The person who killed Zadie Covington might or might not be the same person who left that note,” Grace went on. “But we have to consider that they’re one and the same. And that this is probably someone from your past.”
“A past I can’t remember,” Livvy muttered.
She wrote down some names, the point of the pen digging so hard into the paper that it risked ripping it.
“And that someone from my past could have wanted me to see that scene. Could have made sure I did.” She paused.
“Can we trace the caller who reported the vandalism?”
Grace sighed in frustration and shook her head. “It was made from a burner.”
That surprised none of them. If the person had wanted his or her identity known, it wouldn’t have been anonymous.
“And yeah, the caller was almost certainly the killer and the person who wanted you there at that house,” Grace admitted. “Since we can’t trace it, we have to work the details that we do have. Maybe the CSIs will turn up something at the house. Or the ME can find some trace evidence on the body.”
Ethan hoped something would turn up. Something that would essentially clear Livvy’s name.
“SAPD did the death notification to Zadie’s parents, but I want to drive over and talk to them,” Grace continued. “You two deal with New Hope. Someone there might know what happened to her.”
That was Livvy’s and his cue to get moving out the door.
Ethan had no idea if Livvy was ready for this ordeal.
Probably anything and everything connected to this case would trigger the hellish images from the dream and the actual scene.
But he figured it was best to stay busy, and that way, they might get the answers they needed to solve this.
They stopped in the bullpen, and Livvy had to move the black cat off her jacket that was lying on her desk. The cat, Sherlock, was sort of a mascot and more or less had free rein of the place. He also had opinions and somehow managed to purr at Livvy and hiss at Ethan all in the same breath.
Despite everything, Livvy smiled. It was brief and the smile didn’t reach her eyes, but he was glad she’d gotten a second or two of amusement.
It didn’t last.
The moment they had their jackets on, they went toward the front door, but it opened before they even reached it. And Ethan immediately saw someone he didn’t want to see: Vernice Cline. Isabel’s mother and his former mother-in-law.
Since Vernice had had Isabel when she’d only been nineteen, she was still fairly young.
Only fifty-three. And she appeared even younger than that with her gym-fit body and hair and makeup applied as if she were about to head to a fancy business meeting.
Ethan doubted she had any such meetings on her agenda since she ran a pet-grooming business, but being dressed to a tee was Vernice’s default.
Vernice scowled when her attention landed on him, but that scowl skyrocketed when she shifted her gaze to Livvy.
And the baby bump.
It was an expected reaction, and Ethan couldn’t blame Vernice for her bitterness. Here, her beloved daughter had died trying to conceive a child, and it’d happened with Livvy and him in a one-off.
Of course, Vernice didn’t believe it was a one-time occurrence, and she had often accused him of jumping straight into Livvy’s bed instead of “honoring” Isabel’s memory by remaining faithful to her.
Again, Ethan couldn’t fault the woman for thinking that way. He was dealing with that same disgust for himself. That guilt which was made even stronger by the love he felt for his unborn child.
“You’re together, I see,” Vernice snarled.
“We’re partners,” Ethan reminded her, again.
Vernice’s eyes narrowed. “That’s your choice. You two want to be together. If you didn’t, you could ask Grace to pair you up with someone else.”
It was true. Grace would have switched them.
And Ethan had considered it. Man, had he.
But he’d finally decided that if he asked for another partner, that would cause tension in the police station.
The other cops would walk on eggshells around Livvy and him, and that would hurt the job.
Hell, it would hurt the entire department.
So, by mutual agreement, they’d stayed together as partners.
“Vernice, we’re on our way out,” Ethan said, intending to cut this visit short. Then again, he always wanted to minimize his time with Vernice.
“Well, I wouldn’t have come if it were up to me,” the woman snapped, and she reached into her massive purse and yanked out a package that was about the size of child’s shoebox.
She thrust it at him. “When I went to open the shop this morning, that was on the doorstep. It’s addressed to you, so I played messenger and brought it over.
You’re welcome,” she tacked on with plenty of snark.
Ethan ignored her attitude and carefully took the package from her hand. “Why leave it at your shop?”
“I wouldn’t know” was her frosty response. She gave Livvy’s baby bump one last glare before she turned and walked out.
“What is that?” Grace asked.
He glanced back and saw the sheriff was walking toward them, and judging from her expression, she had probably overheard at least some of the conversation with Vernice.
Ethan had to shake his head. “I’ve never gotten any deliveries or mail at Vernice’s shop.”
With Livvy right next to her, he went back into the bullpen and eased the package onto his desk. He took out a pair of latex gloves and the explosives scanner while he studied the writing. No sender info, no addresses.
Just his name, Deputy Ethan Oakley.
Beneath that were three words: Important. Open Immediately.
Ethan didn’t open it immediately. Instead, he ran the handheld scanner over the box. There was no telltale beep to let him know there might be a bomb, but the device did alert on something metal.
“Stand back just in case,” he told Livvy and Grace, and he waited for them to do that before he opened the package and peered inside.
Frowning, he spilled the contents onto his desk. A folded piece of paper and a six-inch knife encased in a layer of bubble wrap. He could see rust-colored smears on the blade.
He thought it might be dried blood.
“That could be the murder weapon,” Grace speculated.
“Yeah,” Ethan agreed, and he shifted his attention to the paper.
He carefully unfolded it and saw that it was a note. A note that had Ethan cursing.
Test it, Deputy Oakley. You’ll find Livvy’s fingerprints on it. Maybe now she’ll confess to everything she’s done.