2 Multiple Exposures (5 page)

At this mention of babies, Peter’s eyes sparkled so bright they were in danger of being declared a star, at least in my active imagination they were. “As to that, it just so happens, Reeza just found out from the doctor we’re starting our own family. It’s sooner than I expected, but I’m happy. Once Mama calms down and I tell her, she’ll be tickled pink.”

My teeth clicked together at his news, and Spencer started. Pete glanced from me to his boss and back again. I didn’t want to ask the question I knew had to be asked, and Pete of course would have to know the truth of what we suspected.

Spencer was not so lily-livered to ask. “You said Reeza’s pregnant?”

“Yeah, sheriff.” Pete grinned. “I haven’t told my mama yet, so if you can keep it between us for now, I’d appreciate it.”

“Who’s her doctor?” Spencer demanded.

Again confusion colored Pete’s expression. He was probably wondering why neither of us had yet to congratulate him and his wife. “Doc over on Sumter. Were you looking for one?”

Pete stared at me wide-eyed. I squeaked and held up my hands. “No! Perish the thought, Pete. I’m
not
pregnant. Um, we were concerned because it’s Dr. Bloomberg who has died, and Reeza just discovering she’s pregnant…”

“Oh.” Pete blew out a breath of relief. “No, she’s had that other doc forever. Says she prefers a female.”

Relief washed over me as well, and I felt better to offer him the congratulations he must have been expecting. “When you see Reeza, tell her I wish her the same. Oh, I just remembered the relation to Lissa. Is she out front? I hope she’s not too upset.”

Spencer gave me a questioning look, but Pete answered. “Reeza’s sister works here, but no, I would be more worried about her if I didn’t already know she had today off. She and Reeza were going to do some shopping together. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know her schedule.”

Another awkward silence on my part. Spencer was writing down Lissa’s name. Nerves stirred in my belly. “Um, Pete, Lissa was here at the clinic when I arrived today. You’re telling me she’s not out front now?”

He paled and jerked his cell phone from his pocket. Strong fingers stabbed the keys, and he held the phone to his ear. Spencer paced, waiting. I watched Pete. Twice he rang for Lissa. When she didn’t answer, he stabbed another button. Spencer grabbed his arm, and Pete stilled with the phone halfway to his ear.

“Calm down,” Spencer ordered. “Don’t alarm her.” Pete nodded.

“Hey, baby, whatcha doin’?” To his credit, Pete’s voice shook just a tiny bit. “Me? Working. I thought you were shopping with your sister today. Oh, she did? Yeah, okay. Listen, the sheriff’s signaling me to get off the phone. I’ll call you back when I’m free again.”

Pete blushed, and I could imagine what Reeza was saying. He shuffled his feet, cut his gaze to Spencer, and then crouched over the phone to whisper, “I love you too. Bye!”

“What did she say?” Spencer demanded.

Pete straightened and stuffed his phone in his pocket. “She said Lissa asked her to reschedule, said she needed to be in the office today.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but I’m worried, sheriff. Where’s my sister-in-law, and why isn’t she answering her phone? If anything’s happened to her—”

“Don’t jump to conclusions.”

“Pete seemed about to turn back the way he entered, but Spencer caught his arm. “Where are you going?”

“Sheriff, I need to make sure Lissa’s okay. She and Reeza are close. If something happened to her, it would kill my wife.”

“You have a job to do.”

“Sheriff!”

I started to try to convince Spencer to let him go, but the hard expression in the sheriff’s eyes eased. He could be a grumbly bear when he was just starting a case. During the Alvin Aston murder case, I assumed Spencer’s attitude was because he was still new in town and had to prove himself. That might be true, but he was still super tense even with his past success. Maybe it was a part of his personality.

“I promise, I’ll locate her,” Spencer said. “But I need you to process that scene before the coroner has a chance to move the body. Can you do that?”

Pete looked like he felt he was letting his wife down, but I also knew Spencer had won the respect of his men in the short time he had been in Briney Creek. At last, Pete agreed, picked up his bag, and continued down the hall. As I watched him walk, I noticed the stiff set to his shoulders and turned back to Spencer.

“I don’t know what’s happening, Spencer, but please for that young man and his wife’s peace of mind, find Lissa.”

Spencer stuffed his notebook away. “I’ll find her, Makayla, but what you haven’t considered yet is, if she’s alive and well, was she involved in Dr. Bloomberg’s death?”

I grasped his arm with one hand and pressed the other to my chest. He was absolutely right. Why else had Lissa left the office? I knew she was there. She had greeted me when I arrived and taken my vitals. Her face was unmistakable. She was almost a double of her sister, except of course being an older version, taller and probably somewhat less fit. While I accompanied Spencer to the front of the office, I prayed Lissa had no involvement with the case.

Outside the clinic, Spencer walked with me to my car and allowed himself a touch at my waist. A warm sensation blanketed me, which was good considering the strong chill in the early winter air. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

I nodded and then hesitated. “I am, but…I was wondering.”

He frowned. “You said yourself, Makayla. You’re glad Pete is back, and he is on the job.”

“I thought you were going to fire him for running off.”

“I can’t spare the manpower, obviously, and since the budget has already been arranged for him, I didn’t see a need to put myself through the headache of finding someone else.”

I smiled up at him. “I think beneath the gruff exterior, you’re a softy at heart.”

He bristled.

“Another good thing is that I work for free, so the budget doesn’t matter.”

“No, Makayla.”

“I’m already involved. The person sent me the letter. Plus, I know Lissa’s address.”

He looked like he wanted to choke me, but I kept my pretty smile blindingly bright and waited him out. Spencer’s nostrils flared, and he growled. “Come along, but keep quiet or else.”

“Yes, sheriff,” I chirped and left my car where it sat and hurried to his SUV.

Chapter Five

My lie in telling Spencer I knew where Lissa Maxwell lived was just that—a lie. However, I knew how to get the information without too much fuss. If he had realized where we both were and the nature of our special little town, he would have come to the conclusion he too could obtain Lissa’s address, and he didn’t need to flash his badge to do it. Of course, he would have because Spencer was nothing if not a stickler for the law. That might be another reason the letter writer had contacted me first. With no evidence, Spencer couldn’t waltz into Dr. Bloomberg’s office and accuse him of anything. We weren’t yet sure what he might have been accused of.

While we rode along route one, Spencer pulled the baggie from his pocket and held it up. “Do you know how to get the information off of this if need be?”

“I can probably figure it out within a few minutes. Pete might too. I don’t know his skill level, but it doesn’t take rocket science.”

“Are you sure about this, Makayla?”

I held out my hand. He eyed me and then handed it over. I studied the device through the bag. “Yup, there’s the on/off switch, the camera, and the mic. This is definitely a video camera. Maybe with a click or flip somewhere, it takes just pictures, and probably inside here is—”

“I believe you.” He looked grim and ran a hand over his face. “The office will have to be searched, all his files and his home, the computers there and at work.”

We both knew the seriousness of what we were dealing with.

“Did you see anyone or hear anything?”

I thought back. “No, I was stuck in that room for what felt like forever.”

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long, Makayla. I need to start building a timeline.”

“Oh, right.” I chewed my lip, trying to remember. Outside my window, the small neat houses fell away, and we turned from a lined two-lane road to one that looked like it might accommodate two cars side-by-side but not without scraped paint and flipped hand signals.

“An hour maybe. I heard the doctor greet the patient in the room next to mine when I first got into my room.”

“Are you sure it was him?”

“Probably.”

He glared.

“And Lissa said he was moving slower than normal today, so they were behind.”

“Slower how, like extra busy, unmotivated? Sick?”

“I can’t be sure. I never saw his face.”

“Did you recognize any of the other patients?”

“No.”

“What about the assistants. How many?”

“Two, that one woman you found me with and Lissa.”

We drew up to the farmhouse where Edna had texted me Lissa lived. Her directions had been spot on and easy to follow. I made a mental note to give her an extra hug when I saw her later. That thought reminded me of our afternoon date, and I checked the time on my cell phone. Moaning, I had to accept that I wouldn’t make it on time and texted her quickly to let her know we might need to reschedule.

Lissa lived in a farmhouse with dull white vinyl siding. A porch with columns at intervals but no railing ran along the right side, and all the windows appeared to have no curtains or shades on them. Without the reflection of the sun, one could probably see straight through to the back of the house, unless a wall obstructed the view.

I climbed out of the SUV and hopped to the dirt drive. As I joined Spencer, who moved slightly ahead of me, his bearing stiff and on alert, a chicken wandered across our path. Another joined it, and we paused until the way was clear. Before we even reached the porch, the door flung open, and a man as big as any I had ever set eyes on filled the doorway. At least six five, thick and heavy, he sneered at Spencer, sharp dislike radiating off him.

Without thinking, I took a step back, but Spencer placed a hand on his revolver. “Mr. Maxwell?”

The man spit tobacco inches from Spencer’s boot, and the sheriff cast him a warning glance. I started to rethink having come along.

“The name’s Hardy Joe Russell. Maxwell is my wife’s maiden name, and you’ve got no right to be on my property, sheriff.”

I gasped. Apparently, Hardy Joe didn’t know his wife used her maiden name at work, maybe everywhere else too. The air of unhappiness in her relationship I had picked up when we had discussed Reeza running off might not be far off the mark.

“I’m looking for your wife,” Spencer said, undaunted. “Is she here?”

“It’s none of your business if—”

“Stop it, Hardy Joe.” Lissa appeared behind him and shoved him to squeeze by. “I’m here, sheriff.”

She was sniffing, and her eyes were red.

“I’m assuming you heard about your boss’s death?”

Lissa seemed hesitant as to whether to admit the truth that was staring us in the face. “I heard,” she mumbled.

Spencer nodded. “Do you mind if we come in and ask you a few questions?”

“You’re not coming in here,” Hardy Joe bellowed. “I don’t like your kind, sheriff. I’d be within my rights to get my shotgun and run you off my land.”

Spencer’s visage darkened dangerously. The snap on his gun holster might as well have been gunfire itself with the affect it had on me. I hadn’t been in the south long, so I’d only heard of these types of situations. Now, I’m not saying it happens often. To my mind, we might live in a small town, but we were all still civilized. So Hardy Joe threatening to shoot the sheriff, it seemed like something out of a movie for which I never purchased a ticket.

“You just threatened an officer of the law, Mr. Russell. Now, I’m within my rights to arrest
you
.”

“Hardy Joe, quit it,” Lissa demanded. “Please, sheriff, ignore my stupid husband. He doesn’t mean any harm. I promise he doesn’t. He would never shoot anybody.”

“Don’t say that, Lissa!”

She ignored her husband and stared with wide, frightened eyes at Spencer. I had the feeling the fear wasn’t all about Hardy Joe being tossed behind bars. In fact, Lissa might prefer that part. My guess was she just didn’t want to antagonize Spencer.

Spencer refused to relent. “We can talk here, inside your house, or down at the station.”

Lissa looked at Hardy Joe, and Hardy Joe stomped down the porch steps and rounded the side of the house. The way he threw up his hands before he went and the slump to his shoulders probably meant he wasn’t going to get his weapon, and Spencer confirmed my thinking by re-snapping the closure on his holster.

“Come inside,” Lissa said and led the way into her home.

Lissa’s home might look at bit neglected outside, but she had done a great job of decorating the interior. Modern furniture and a comfortable color scheme in the living room demonstrated her skills in creating a warm environment. I told her so, hoping it would calm her a little but to no avail. Her hands shook, and her gaze darted around the room so fast it made me dizzy. She didn’t look Spencer in the eye and was so jumpy I thought she might run out the door screaming if we said boo.

I glanced at Spencer and then moved beside her on the couch to take her hands. “Lissa, I know you’re upset, but can you tell us what happened?”

Spencer cut across my attempt at a soothing tone. “Did you kill Dr. Bloomberg?”

She squawked, sounding very much like her chickens in the front yard. “No, I would never! I could never hurt anybody.”

“Then why did you run?” Spencer insisted. “You were working in the office today, but when Dr. Bloomberg’s body was discovered, you were nowhere to be found. Would you like to explain that?”

“Not really.” She gave a nervous chuckle and moaned. “I just wanted the police alerted. That’s all.”

Spencer stiffened. “Alerted to what?”

She squeezed my hands then freed hers from my hold. A check out the window maybe to see if Hardy Joe was returning and then she faced us. “Dr. Bloomberg was doing something nasty.”

“Nasty like how?” I asked, scared to know the truth.

Lissa peeked at Spencer and flushed. “He might have been using a uh…”

“Camera pen,” I supplied and Spencer frowned me silent.

She nodded. “To take pictures of women’s—” Here she cut herself off too embarrassed to say more in front of Spencer.

“I get the gist of it,” he said, letting her off the hook. “And did you confront him about your suspicions?”

“No!” She began ringing her hands again. “I contacted Makayla.”

“We just met today, sweetheart.”

“I wrote you a letter. I assumed you got it when you called in to make an appointment.”

Ah ha! One mystery solved.
I wish I could say the churning inside me had begun to settle. No such luck.

Lissa went on. “I knew Makayla was dating you, sheriff.” She swallowed, staring at the floor rather than looking at him. “And maybe she could convince you to look into the what the doctor was doing. That way I could stay out of it.”

“In essence you wanted to use me?” I clarified with a smile.

“Yes.
No.
I’m sorry. You’re good with photography right? You would know right away what the pen was. I was sure of it.”

Sure enough to risk my hoo-hoo.

“Where is this letter now?” Trust Spencer to stay on target and not get his feelings hurt like me, but then he had no hoo-hoo jeopardize. Okay, I’m getting far off subject.

“I burned it.”

We both blinked at her.

“Excuse me?” Spencer said.

“I didn’t want to be accused of anything, so I burned it.”

Spencer pulled out his notebook, which so far during the interview had remained inside his coat. I don’t mind admitting that at that point
I
felt intimidated, as if he were about to cross-exam
me
on the witness stand. I had been there, so I can tell you it is not a pleasant experience.

“Let me get my facts straight, Ms. Maxwell. Uh, sorry, Mrs. Russell.”

She trembled. Yup, caught in one lie, liable to tell more. Lissa did have my sympathies because I didn’t believe she had killed the doctor, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know who did it, or that she didn’t stand by while they did. For one, Hardy Joe looked quite capable, and in this situation—liable to have done it.

“When did you retrieve the letter that you had already mailed to Makayla?”

“I went to the room where I left her, but she wasn’t there. Her things were, so I searched her purse and found it.”

“How did you know it would be there?”

“I didn’t. I took a chance. I was going to work up my nerve and ask her about it. When she was gone, I started thinking she was snooping around—sorry, Makayla.”

I waved a hand. My role in this debacle had already been established.

“I believed she would find out the truth or try very hard to, but after I sent that letter, I started to panic.” She checked the window again. “You’ve seen Hardy Joe. He’s really jealous, and he’s not that bright. If he thought Dr. Bloomberg was taking pictures of me, I don’t know what he would do.”

“Did the doctor take pictures of you?” Spencer asked.

“Of course not! I was not one of his patients. Hardy Joe would never let me see a male doctor.” She sighed as if she had suffered years with the man. However, she had lied about her married name at work. Hardy Joe might assume she would obey him, and she might have just become one of Dr. Bloomberg’s patients for convenience sake.

“Mrs. Russell, did you hear anything odd or see anyone who didn’t belong at the clinic either before you entered Makayla’s room or after you left it?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Is there any additional information you can give me on this case?”

Her head bobbled side to side. I think she’d reached her limit and was ready to collapse. “No.”

Spencer dug out his business card and handed it to her. “If you can think of anything else that might help the case, please contact me.”

I stood and gave Lissa an impromptu hug. “Give your brother-in-law a call. He’s worried about you.”

“Pete?”

“Is there another?” I snarked and smiled.

Spencer and I started for the door, but Lissa’s voice stopped us, and we looked back.

“Sheriff, please don’t discuss this with my husband. He doesn’t know anything about it, and I’d rather keep it that way.”

Spencer turned slowly to face her. “Mrs. Russell, I will talk to anyone I feel may have information that will help my investigation. If I find out there was even a chance Dr. Bloomberg violated your rights, and your husband found out about it, I will without hesitation come looking for him. Good day.”