Justifiable Risk (22 page)

Eva got out of the car and hugged Greer close, unconcerned with stares from passersby. “How are you?” She rested her head against Greer’s chest, listened to the rapid beat of her heart, and inhaled the fresh fragrance of her skin. She sensed a connection here that had been missing in her life for too long. It invigorated and frightened her because she had no idea what to do about it.

“I’m starving.” Greer’s voice was tight with emotion and she stepped back, holding Eva at arm’s length.

“I meant how are you
feeling
, after last night?”

“I’m good.” She turned and walked toward the diner. “I appreciate what you did. It’s the first time I’ve been able to cry in a while.”

Eva didn’t want to make Greer more uncomfortable but she had to know. “I hope your leaving so early this morning didn’t have anything to do with me.”

Greer wouldn’t look at her, which told Eva quite a lot. She didn’t address the issue and wasn’t willing to lie. Eva’s heart pounded as though she’d run a marathon. “Let’s get you fed before you pass out,” she said as they stepped inside the diner.

A busty brunette waitress took their order and returned shortly with Greer’s stack of scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns. When the woman passed the fourth time and asked to reheat Greer’s coffee without even a nod at her, Eva found her obvious interest in Greer amusing. But Greer seemed more concerned with her food than who was serving it.

Eva’s stomach churned at the greasy offerings as Greer wolfed them down. She searched for a light topic for distraction. “Friend of yours?” This was a new experience for her, feeling the least bit interested in another woman’s attention toward a bed buddy. But Greer was sexy in a quiet, unassuming way and attracted attention without trying.

Greer looked up from her breakfast for the first time. “Who?”

“Our waitress.”

Greer’s gaze followed the direction of Eva’s nod. “Oh, that’s Sandy.”

“An ex?” She couldn’t stop herself. Greer looked at her like she’d asked the most ridiculous question imaginable. And the look implied more—that she had no right to ask—and she was exactly right.

“Nope.”

Eva was on emotionally unstable ground. Intellectually, she and Greer had an understanding about their relationship, but she’d stepped into a quagmire of emotions with this woman. The conversation made her uncomfortable, testy even, so she reverted to work mode. “Are we headed to the motel after breakfast?” An arousing picture of the two of them on her motel bed made Eva modify the question. “To go through Paul’s things?”

“That’s the plan.”

“I was wondering about the camera again. Since it wasn’t in his personal effects or in any of the pictures, shouldn’t that tell us someone else was in the room?”

Greer rested her hand on Eva’s. “I’ll look into it. But we can’t be certain he had it that night.” Greer put money on top of the bill and stood. “Ready?”

Busty Sandy ran over and tried one final time to get Greer’s attention. “Finished so soon? Sure I can’t get you anything else?”

“No, thanks, Sandy. See you later.” Greer turned to Eva. “Shall we?”

With a bit too much pleasure, Eva grinned and took Greer’s arm. “Definitely.”

As she followed Greer back to Hurley, Eva wondered why Sandy’s amateurish attention to Greer bothered her. After a few unacceptable possibilities sprang to mind, she decided she didn’t want to know the answer—at least not right now. She owed it to her family to clear Paul’s name.

When she and Greer settled at the side table in the motel room, Eva pulled the evidence box from under the bed. She took a deep breath and opened the container slowly, as if afraid of what they might discover. Eva looked inside and her eyes filled with tears. She wanted to be strong, to hold her emotions in check at least until a degree of vindication tempered her grief.  But these were the last items Paul touched.

Greer took her arms and guided her carefully into a chair. “Let me.”

Eva watched as she reverently removed the contents from the box and laid them carefully on the table. Greer picked up the BlackBerry and scrolled through it. “I don’t see anything unusual. Have you checked?”

She nodded. “The warehouse address and a map to the Days Inn were the only things that related to New Hope.”

“The property receipt indicates a necklace. I don’t see that.”

Eva reached into the neck of her sweater and pulled the medal out. “St. Francis de Sales is considered the patron saint of journalists and writers. Paul wore it to honor my father and me. That’s the kind of man my brother was.”

Greer opened the Italian leather wallet, and Eva recited the contents without looking. When Greer held up two camera cards, she almost dismissed them out of hand. “Have you checked these?”

“Yes, but I didn’t find anything significant—some pictures of the old warehouse.”

“Let’s do it again, to be sure. Get your laptop and we’ll look together.”

Eva powered up her MacBook Pro and slid the first camera card into the slot. Nothing; the card was obviously a spare. The second card produced a series of images. Most of the shots showed the exterior of the Lewis Street warehouse, with a few more of the inside. As she flipped through the last two pictures, a sick feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. The background was very dark and out of focus, as if Paul had been trying to take them without using a flash. She’d rushed past these before without much thought.

Greer moved closer and Eva heard her breathing quicken. “What’s that? There, in the corner of that shot?” She pointed to the last photo. “Can you get it any clearer?”

Eva tried a few adjustments but the picture was no better. “Sorry. What do you think?”

“I can’t be certain, but it could be two people in the shadows at the back. Maybe I can get Craig to work on it. He’s good with anything concerning computers. Do you mind if I take it for a while?”

“Of course not. Let me know what you find.” Eva thought about Tom Merritt. She would have gone to him with this, if he hadn’t been killed. She prayed no one else would be hurt before they solved Paul’s case. “Do you think your cohorts checked these camera cards before?”

“Maybe. If they were convinced the case was a suicide, they wouldn’t have needed to. And even if they did, this isn’t much of a lead.”

When Greer stood and looked at her watch, Eva felt uneasy. “Leaving already?”

“I have to talk to Agent Long again, and I’d like to get this photo card to Craig. Will you be all right here?”

Eva started to speak and Greer stopped halfway to the door. “What?”

“Bessie asked, well, actually ordered, me to get the rest of my belongings and come back to your place. She said it’s not safe way out here but—”

“And she’s exactly right. Better do as you’re told. It’s much simpler that way.” Greer’s smile was both reassuring and welcoming. Eva wanted to hold her and feel her warmth soak into her bones.

“Are you sure it’s okay with you?”

“Absolutely. I’ll see you there later.”

The certainty of Greer’s response caught Eva off guard. She’d expected Greer to reluctantly acquiesce to Bessie’s offer, but she actually sounded pleased. “Thank you, and before I forget, Bessie said dinner’s at seven and you better not be late.”

Greer laughed as she closed the door behind her. Eva gathered her clothes, packed her suitcase, and checked out of the Sunset Motel with more than a little relief. She was glad to be moving closer to town and, if she was honest, closer to Greer. She welcomed the unusual sense of security that being around Greer and Bessie provided. In her profession home was where she washed her clothes and packed a bag for the next trip. But right now this feeling of family was the only reassuring thing in her life.

*

Greer couldn’t stop the anticipation that had fluttered inside her since Eva had announced that she’d be staying at the house. Her self-control had been tested all morning as she worked closely with Eva, breathing in her orange-ginger fragrance, watching her flip her long strands of wavy hair, hearing the hint of jealousy in her voice when Sandy touched her at the diner. And her expressive gestures as she talked made Greer want those hands all over her body. Everything about Eva Saldana was becoming more exciting, challenging, and sensuous. How would she manage with Eva living in the house just steps away from her?

As she pulled up to the police station, Greer told herself this wasn’t the time to indulge her imagination or her hormones. She had to clear herself in the shootings of Tom Merritt and Sergeant Fluharty, then close Paul Saldana’s case properly. Until she addressed those two major responsibilities, everything else would have to wait—including her growing attraction to Eva.

When Greer walked into the squad room, Craig Myrick was in his usual spot, at his desk on the computer. Greer handed him the camera card and explained what she needed and how quickly. “Any news on the sergeant today?” she asked.

“Getting better. Maybe going home tomorrow.” He took the card, slid it into the computer slot, and pulled up the photos. “Check back in an hour.” Sometimes his confidence annoyed Greer, but he always did a good job. When she asked if he’d seen Agent Long, Craig nodded toward the sergeant’s office.

Rick Long had made himself comfortable in Sergeant Fluharty’s office. His files and reports littered the desk, and empty coffee cups spilled out of the trash can. The smell of a sausage biscuit drifted from a crumpled container on the file cabinet. “I was getting ready to track you down, Detective Ellis.”

“Here’s the Saldana file, everything I was given.” Greer conveniently left out the register of hotel guests that wasn’t included with the original case. If he wanted that information, he’d have to work for it like she did.

“Thank you. Are you ready to get the rest of my questions out of the way?”

“Let’s do it.”

Agent Long shuffled papers, looked at his notes, and said nothing for a while. Greer let the time pass without filling the space. She’d been to enough interview and interrogation classes to know what guilty people did at times like these. She wasn’t one of them, so she patiently waited for Long to begin.

“The gunpowder residue test hasn’t come back yet, so you’re not entirely off the hook in spite of Fluharty’s revised statement. I’ve been talking with the rest of your squad, other officers, and a few town folk. It’s hard not to hear things in a place this small.”

Greer’s anxiety rose even though she had nothing to hide. She recognized Long’s approach as a technique designed to throw her off-kilter. “Can we get on with the questions, please? I still have a job to do.”

“Is it true you were denied access to the crime scene when your lover was shot?”

Greer dug her fingernails into her palms to control the anger and keep her voice even. She resented having Long drag Clare’s name into another police investigation. “That has nothing to do with this case. But to be clear, Clare Lansing wasn’t my lover. She was my partner for ten years, so when you talk about her, do so with respect.” Her tone was flat and hard, and she realized that alone would reveal the significance of her statement.

“I understand and I certainly meant no disrespect. Did Sergeant Fluharty have anything to do with your exclusion from the scene? It goes to motive.”

“Fluharty and about half the New Hope Police Department. They kept me from contaminating the scene. If that was motivation, I’d have gone after Chief Bryant. He’s the one who knocked me out.” Greer traced the scar through her left eyebrow.

Agent Long considered her comment as more time passed. He seemed in no particular hurry. “Your records indicate you were ordered to take a psych evaluation and leave of absence after the incident. Who made that decision?”

“You obviously already know the answer to that question.”

“And?”

“It was Sergeant Fluharty, but you don’t have all the facts, Agent Long.”

“Then why don’t you fill me in?”

“Sergeant Fluharty kept me out of Clare’s crime scene. He did his job and protected evidence. As soon as everything was processed, he took me to see her. And, yes, he ordered me to have a psychological evaluation and to take leave. He needed to be sure I was fit for duty. The safety of other officers was at risk, not just my own.”

“I see.”

“No, I don’t believe you do.” It pained Greer to talk about that time to a man who thought her capable of murder. But he needed to hear the truth and she needed to say things that she hadn’t uttered for two years. “After the eval, Sergeant Fluharty also took me into the homicide squad, let me work at my own pace, and helped me through the most difficult time of my life. So, no, I didn’t shoot him or Tom Merritt. Tom was a friend. We went to school together, worked as closely as cops and reporters can, and I had no reason to hurt him.”

Agent Long looked at her for several minutes. If he was trying to make her nervous and contradict herself, he failed. She’d spoken the truth and didn’t need to say anything else.

He finally stood and offered his hand. “Thank you, Detective. I’ll be in touch.” Before she got to the door, he asked. “Oh, by the way, why wasn’t Detective Derrick Bastille on the stakeout at the warehouse?”

“I believe he had to go to court at the last minute.”

“That’s what he said. Thanks for your cooperation.”