In the Shadows (The Outsiders Book 1) (15 page)

BOOK: In the Shadows (The Outsiders Book 1)
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She shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her feet. “If she did, I can only imag
ine that she wouldn’t feel that way now.”

He wanted to say something supportive, but he was at a loss. Finally, he pulled her into an embrace, and whispered, “Why don’t we see if we can change that, okay?”

She nodded, and he leaned back, looking into her eyes. “I guess we’d better get to work.”

AS DAVE LOOKED
through the case notes on his computer and the newspaper articles he’d printed out, he still wondered if he was making the right decision. Did he really want to take on a case that he had no business getting involved in? Didn’t he have enough problems of his own? Then he thought about his kiss with Maurelle. What had possessed him to do that? Of all people, he should know that wasn’t a good idea.

He sighed and closed his eyes. Maybe what he should really be doing is going back to Chicago before
getting further involved. But in his heart he knew he could not let it go.

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

Dave tried to
resist second-guessing the rightness of his decision to go to London. He’d made the decision and would follow through on it. He simply had to know the truth, but he wondered what he would feel and do if the truth turned out to be other than he expected. After what had happened in his police career, he knew he was pursuing this in part to prove to himself that he could still read people. And he needed to verify his own good judgment He also knew that this obsession was more than just proving his capabilities. There was a heavy emotional investment. If Maurelle indeed killed Jared Raybourne, his faith in himself, in humanity, and especially in women, would be shattered, not to mention how it would affect his growing feelings for her. Could he love a murderer?

Fabienne and Maurelle kept saying they were worried about him getting into trouble in London. All he could do was assure them he would be cautious. He just
hoped his investigative skills weren’t as rusty as he expected.

“Let’s go over the names again,” Dave said as he and Maurelle sat together on the sofa. “Tell me about the next door neighbors. How well did you know them?”

“Mrs. Rickards was sick and was in and out of the hospital. I think we only spoke to each other once or twice. Mrs. Winston, on the other side of the Raybourne house, was a retired widow, and from what I gather, was fairly well off. She was gone quite a bit, traveled often. It’s funny. When she was home, she was interested in another retired neighbor, the man across the street, Ian Waitley. Spent a lot of time preening, getting her hair done, putting on makeup, that sort of thing, trying to get him interested. But he would run and hide whenever he saw her heading his way.”

“Why was that?”

“He told me she was too old, which was comical, actually, because he was a year older than her, and he knew it. A few of his neighbors, including Mrs. Winston and I, attended his sixty-first birthday party a month earlier—and at the time she’d announced that she was about to celebrate her sixtieth birthday. He was sometimes forgetful, and people thought he was bit batty. I thought he was funny and nice, just eccentric.”

“How do you know she wasn’t lying about her age?”

“Because later someone tried to deliver flowers to her, but she wasn’t home. The delivery man brought them to the Raybourne house. I was the only one home. I accepted them, and watched for her to come home. When I carried them over to her house, she told me the flowers were from her grandson and she showed me the card that came with them. It said “Happy Sixtieth Birthday, Grandma.”

Dave laughed. “Okay. What about the Hallowells?”

“Nick and Jenny Hallowell were good friends with Peter and Elizabeth Raybourne, from what I heard—at least, before the Raybournes divorced. Jenny would sometimes invite them over for dinner or drinks and to play cards, but Elizabeth would trash Peter, or Robin, or both of them all evening.”

Dave jotted down notes on a pad of paper. “Who is Robin?”

“Oh, she’s Peter’s girlfriend.”

“Did she have an affair with Peter? Is that what caused the break-up of the marriage?”

“I don’t know.”

“How did the Hallowells react to Elizabeth’s negative talk about her ex-husband?”

“I heard them trying to defend Peter one night, which made Elizabeth angry. They tried to tell her that they were still friends with him. She didn’t seem to want to hear it.”

“You mentioned Rob Carsters and Sally Kavanaugh.”

“They were both around Elizabeth’s age. I think Rob was interested in Elizabeth after her divorce. He would drop by the house and invite her out to dinner or a movie sometimes. She always said no, that she wasn’t interested in dating. Then he would say that he was only being neighborly, that he wasn’t making a move on her. I think he was. It’s a shame she wasn’t interested. He seemed like a nice man.”

“Was he a family friend? Did he know Peter and Elizabeth?”

“I don’t know.”

“And Sally Kavanaugh?”

“She was a friend of Elizabeth. Sally would come over sometimes to try and cheer her up. Most of the time Elizabeth would say she didn’t feel like talking, but once in a while they would go out for the evening or Sally would eat dinner at the house. Usually, if she did, they would order take away because Elizabeth hated cooking.”

After each of their talks, Dave transferred his notes
and the pointers Maurelle was giving him into his laptop computer and studied them. The more details he got, the more he wondered how he would accomplish all the work, especially in a short period of time. Thorough investigations could take months, even years. Investigating in a city that was unfamiliar to him would be difficult, but doing it alone, especially when he’d always worked with a partner was daunting to say the least. He wondered what his old partner, Greg Saunders, was doing. Greg was one of the few people he still trusted. The last time they’d spoken, Greg had complained about lack of adventure in his life. Dave dialed Greg and they chatted for a while, catching up on what they’d both been doing lately. Finally, after talking for an hour, Dave told him he was going to England to do research for a book.

“I’m jealous,” Greg said. “France, and now England. Why do you get to go on all the exciting trips?”

“Well, that’s part of the reason I called. I was wondering if you have any vacation time coming. I remember you saying how bored you were and how you needed a good vacation.”

“Yeah, I have three weeks of vacation available.
The boss has been pushing me to use some of it. Just don’t have any place to go or anyone to go with. How pathetic is that?”

“How would you like to go to England as my guest?”

“Your guest? Does that mean you’re paying?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“What’s the catch?”


As I said, I’ll be doing research, and I’d like your help with it. I’m sure there will be time for sightseeing, too. The other thing, it would need to be now. I’m getting ready to leave in a few days.”

“W
hy do you need me? What kind of research is it?”


I’m unofficially looking into a murder case that’s similar to what I have in mind for a mystery novel I’m working on. I’m out of practice investigating. You might see something that I overlook. Besides, we always worked well together. You were my right-hand man.”

”Are you considering going back into police work?”

“No.
I’m strictly a writer now. I’m hoping to get some realistic details for my book, and to tell you the truth, it’s a good excuse to visit England. Always wanted to visit.”


Me too. Okay. I’m in. Well, assuming I can get the vacation time quickly. I’ll have to talk to the boss and get back to you.”

Two days later, Greg called back.
“It’ll be great seeing you again and seeing England. I still don’t know why you’re interested in investigating a case you aren’t getting paid to investigate, but that’s your choice. Personally, I get enough of this stuff. I wouldn’t do it for free.”

“Would you rather not be involved?”

“No, I wasn’t saying that, buddy. Hey, I get a free vacation out of it. You’re paying, you said.”

“Yeah, I’m paying. You’re sure you’re okay with working on your ‘vacation’?”

“Sure. As long as I get to do some sightseeing, too. And some nights out in the pubs.”

“It’s a deal.”

Dave made reservations for himself and Greg at the hotel Maurelle recommended, bought airline tickets, and called Greg to give him the details.

Knowing that he would have help in London assuaged his worries, but not entirely. His main concern, he told Fabienne and Maurelle, was that he not let anyone
, including Greg, become suspicious that he was in contact with Maura Barrington.

On
the last
night before his flight to London, Dave took Maurelle back to the bistro for dinner. While they dined, they each talked about their childhoods, their schools, their parents. When he told her that his parents had sent him to visit his grandparents in Reynier every summer when he was young, she said, “Didn’t they come with you?”

“No. They would put me on an airplane with a flight attendant to look after me.”

Her eyes widened. “Weren’t you frightened?”

He shrugged.

“How old were you when you started coming here?” she asked.

“Well, I must have been about six. I’d finished kindergarten. Now that I think about it, the first visit was scary, not because anything bad had happened, but because my parents had argued for days before they put me on the airplane. My mother cried, and said flying was dangerous. She didn’t want to put her only child in harm’s way
, but my dad said it was perfectly safe. In his words, ‘the boy needs to learn to be a man’.”

“Oh, that sounds tough. What did your father do for a living?”

“He was a police detective. I guess that’s part of why I became one. What about you? You said your mother was a professor, and you became a teacher? Did she push you into it?”

“No.
I naturally gravitated toward teaching, though it wasn’t easy for me because I’m somewhat shy. Are you and your father alike?”

“I suppose we are. Although I’m not sure I would put my own child on an airplane alone at such a young age.
It was a good flight. I remember staring out the window at the clouds and at the miniscule farms and roads. The stewardesses talked with me, gave me headphones to use for listening to music and watching movies. One thing that was a bit scary was meeting my grandparents for the first time.”

“You didn’t even know them?”

He shook his head. “They picked me up at the airport. It took a few days for us to get acquainted, but by the time I returned home, I felt as if we’d always known each other.” He stopped suddenly, nearly adding ‘until she lied to me and I found I couldn’t trust her.’

The following morning
Dave gathered his things together and prepared to leave. Maurelle, watching him as he opened the door, said, “Be careful. I’m worried about you.”

He kissed her gently on the lips and pulled her close to him. When he let go of her, he reached down, picked up his duffel bag, and looked over at his grandmother who was standing in the kitchen doorway, watching him anxiously. He strode over to her, and gave her a big hug. “Take of yourself, Grand-mère. I love you.”

“You keep out of trouble, dear boy. We don’t want you getting yourself arrested over there.”

“I’ll be careful. And remember what we discussed. Don’t tell anyone about Maurelle’s situation. Promise?”

Fabienne nodded, wringing her hands nervously. “You can trust me.”

Dave nodded and looked at one woman and then the other. “Don’t tell anyone anything about where I’m going or what I’m doing. I can’t stress that enough. If anything goes wrong on either end, we could all be in serious trouble.”

Maurelle said, “It’s not too late for you to change your mind. You don’t have to go. You don’t have to jeopardize yourself or your grandmother.”

“I tol
d you I’ve made up my mind. Grand-mère and I have talked it over. She’s willing to take a chance, too. I’m only trying to reiterate to both of you the need for secrecy.”

Fabienne said, “We’ll be careful. Promise.”

A car horn sounded outside. Dave dashed to the front door. He opened the door and picked up his bag. “My ride’s here. I guess I’ll see you both as soon as I can. Take care of each other.” He waved and started out the door to where the taxi was waiting.

Maurelle rushed over to him and gave him a quick kiss.

She and Fabienne stood together in the open doorway, waving as he climbed into the taxicab.

After he left, the two women strolled to the general store to
buy groceries. After taking their purchases home, they headed out again. This time, Maurelle went to the cheese
shop
while Fabienne visited with her friend Jeannette. Maurelle had offered to buy the groceries earlier but Fabienne wouldn’t let her. Now was her chance to surprise her with a gift basket of cheeses and crackers. She entered the cheese shop and greeted the clerk. While she waited in line, she studied the assorted cheeses within the glass case.

“Well, hello there, Maurelle,” a voice from behind said.

She turned around abruptly and found herself face to face with Paul Lepage.

“Bonjour,” she said.

“I’ve been hoping we might bump into each other again,” Paul said. “Maybe we can have lunch together.”

Her face grew hot. “Oh yes. I owe you a debt of gratitude for giving me a ride. Unfortunately, I’ve already made plans for lunch.”

“All right. How about dinner? Tomorrow, around seven o’clock?”

“I—I can’t,” she said.

Paul stared at her. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he got a chance, the clerk said, “May I help you, Mademoiselle?”

“I think he’s talking to you,” Paul said. “It looks as though we’ll have to continue this some other time.”

Maurelle nodded. She whirled around and promptly stepped toward the glass case.

BOOK: In the Shadows (The Outsiders Book 1)
9.1Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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