Cold Snap, page 10
“You have a boyfriend?” His tone was amused, as if he didn’t believe her. He leaned back in his seat. It creaked ominously.
Resentment grew so she doubled down. “Yes. Bowie. He’s a little younger than me, but I find younger people so much more…malleable. Don’t you, Sheriff?” She smiled brightly.
His eyes narrowed, and maybe she hadn’t been subtle enough with her dig.
“As long as he’s legal.”
She blinked slowly. It had never crossed her mind that “Bowie” might not be a full-grown adult.
“Well, if you get lonely for a little company while you’re here in town, or need a shoulder to cry on,”—his eyes were compassionate, and made a complete sham by every word that came out of his mouth—“you can always call me. I’m here for you.”
Anger surged through her. That he had forced her to spell it out for him rather than him understanding the nuances of their interactions.
“I’m not looking to start anything with a married man, Darrell. Have a little more respect for me than that.” She stood and grabbed her coat and hat off the rack. Rage made her veins feel hot.
Darrell caught her arm as she reached the door. She jerked away from him as she turned.
His eyes were hard and bright with anger of his own. “I was just being a friend, Brynn. You might appreciate having the sheriff on speed dial if you’re ever in trouble.”
“If I was ever in trouble, I’d hope the sheriff’s department would help regardless of whether or not we’re ‘friends,’” she spluttered. No wonder her father had warned her not to date this guy when she was eighteen. “At least I have an FBI agent living upstairs. Perhaps he’ll answer in an emergency.”
Darrell expression tightened. “Watch out for Grady Steel. He knows how to turn on the charm to get what he wants, but he’s not someone you should trust.”
A bit like you.
But she didn’t say it. Instead, “What happened between you two?”
“He only cares about his precious career, which he’s gone and fucked up.” Darrell’s nostrils flared and his upper lip curled into something ugly. “He’s a wily sonofabitch and only friendly when it suits him.” His gaze slid down her body. “Don’t you forget that.”
She yanked open the door. “Have a good afternoon, Sheriff.” She held her head high as she walked through the bullpen and let herself out of the side door, waving to Jean along the way.
Her heart pounded all the way back to the café.
17
Grady stuffed his hands deep into his jacket pockets and went for a walk, needing to clear his head.
Drawn to the majesty of the ocean he walked to the southern side of the headland and watched the waves roll in off the Atlantic to pound the white sandy beach with power and fury. The sky had clouded over. The brisk breeze filled his chest with the tang of the ocean, sharp as ozone, as elusive as smoke. The rush of love took him by surprise. Like unexpectedly catching sight of a former lover you hadn’t realized you still had feelings for.
The wind had gotten up since last night, white crests forming far out to sea. The town was hidden and protected thanks to this spit of land reaching out and embracing the Atlantic. It wouldn’t help the water visibility though.
Had the sheriff’s department found the murder weapon during their search of the harbor today? Even on a good day it would be easy to miss in the silt and murk.
He stared out to sea.
He was an experienced diver. He’d have been happy to lend his assistance if they’d asked. The fact they hadn’t, suggested he really was a suspect.
Grady hadn’t heard a shot last night.
Either the killer had used a suppressor or Milton had been killed elsewhere and transported to the harbor to dispose of the body late at night when it was quiet. But why choose the relatively busy harbor as a body dump site when there were places all over the coast like this one, isolated and deserted?
No, Grady’s money was on Milton being murdered on his boat then dumped over the side. The killer likely still had the murder weapon.
Grady caught movement out of the corner of his eye. The gray shaggy-coated dog he’d spotted earlier was sniffing along the sea grass that edged the beach. Beneath the filthy matted coat, the poor thing looked half starved.
He took a step toward it, but the dog raised his head warily then took off. Grady wished he had some food on him to use as a lure.
Maybe he’d come back in the Jeep. Tempt the dog with something to eat, catch it, and take it to animal control.
He turned around and headed back along the narrow road toward town. Lights were on in the Jones’ small clapboard house on the edge of town—a house where he’d spent many of his teenage days hanging out in Saul’s bedroom.
He climbed the front steps, noted peeling paint on the siding and a rotten board that needed to be replaced. He knocked on the door and waited.
It took a moment for anyone to answer, probably because people rarely waited for someone to answer the door around here. They simply knocked and walked in. But after so many years being away that didn’t feel right. He had no idea what his welcome might look like.
Saul opened the door with a wary gaze, a crutch propped under one arm. A boot and removable cast encased his right leg below the knee. His expression cleared when he spotted Grady, and his eyes brightened.
His old friend grinned. The familiar features were a little older and broader, hair a little thinner on top, but still the same wry twist on his wide lips. “You don’t call, you don’t write.”
Grady gave a half laugh, keeping his shoulders hunched, his hands dug deep in his pockets, reminiscent of the teen he’d once been. “I’m here now. How you doing?”
“Who is it?” A querulous voice called from inside.
“Want to come in?” Saul asked with a glance over his shoulder.
“Sure.” Grady nodded.
Saul’s mother sat in her old armchair in the corner, and Grady was immediately transported back half a lifetime.
“Mrs. Jones. How are you?”
The woman scowled. “I heard you were back. Heard a dead body turned up not long after.” She sniffed and went back to her show.
Condemned and convicted.
Just like your father.
He heard the unspoken comparison loud and clear.
Didn’t that encapsulate what this town thought of him? And maybe it wasn’t so far from the truth. He looked enough like his old man to be his double and was certainly no saint.
His mood soured.
Saul grimaced and indicated they go into the kitchen. “Want coffee or beer?”
Grady remembered why he was here and yawned widely. “Shit. Sorry. I had a long drive followed by an eventful arrival. Didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. Better make it coffee.”
Saul snorted as he hobbled around the kitchen, filling the coffeemaker. “We must be getting old.”
“Speak for yourself.” The last thing Grady wanted was to get too old to do the job he loved. “I heard about the bank robbery.”
Saul flinched. His hands shook and he spilled fresh ground coffee on the worn counter. He swore. Awkwardly wiped up the mess and turned on the machine. Clearly still traumatized from the event.
He propped up his crutches, leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “You ever been shot?”
Grady shook his head.
“Fucking hurts, man.” Saul laughed, winced, and looked away. Fear darkened his expression. “Asshole shattered my tibia and surgeon had to put in a metal plate.”
“What happened?”
Saul ran his hand over his nose and chin. “Fucker comes in not long before closing. Sticks a gun in Fancy’s face and tells her he’s going to blow her fucking head off unless she puts all the money in the sack. Everyone is frozen in shock. I don’t think anyone has ever uttered those words to Fancy Lucette before. Imagine doing that to a woman who’s in her seventies?” Saul shook his head. “He said if anyone hit the silent alarm, he’d shoot the lot of us.” Saul pressed his fist to his chin. “Might have been funny if we hadn’t been pissing ourselves in fright.” He swallowed. “I didn’t even pull my weapon. I stood there like some little kid crapping his pants.”
The coffeepot hissed, and Saul jumped then looked embarrassed.
His friend looked like he had a bad dose of PTSD.
Grady felt a little guilty that he hadn’t kept in touch with Saul over the years. They’d been a threesome along with Darrell, but Grady had genuinely liked this guy. Darrell was a selfish sonofabitch, but then again, so was Grady.
There had come a point when Grady had desperately needed to escape this town or suffocate on other people’s lack of expectations. He’d never given much thought to the people he’d left behind.
“Did you recognize him?” asked Grady.
Saul shook his head, a frown marring his brow. “No, but at the same time I feel like I should have, you know. His voice was familiar but… not familiar enough.”
“You didn’t see the getaway car?”
Saul shook his head. “Too busy writhing on the floor trying not to bleed out.”
“Shit. Sorry, man.”
“Yeah. Definitely shit. Wish I hadn’t found any last-minute courage. Not like the bank pays me enough for it to be worth it.”
He turned awkwardly and poured two cups of coffee. Grady even recognized the faded mug.
Grady took it from Saul. Blew on the hot liquid before taking a sip. “I heard Brandy left you.”
His friend’s expression turned bitter. “Bitch cleaned me out. Emptied the bank accounts. Opened store credit in my name. Cheated on me. Dumped me. And still demanded half the house.” He looked around despondently. “I can’t believe I’m back living with my mother at age thirty-four. And she’s more cantankerous than ever.” Saul’s gaze shot to Grady’s. “I should have gotten out like you did.”
“I’m sorry you were shot, and I’m sorry about Brandy, too, but at least you’re alive and have a roof over your head.” He’d learned to count his blessings over the years—knowing they could be stripped from him in an instant.
“I guess.” Saul shrugged. His gaze turned assessing. “Word is you ran over someone and left them to die at the side of the road.”
Grady gritted his teeth together and stared out of the salt-stained window at the clouds that had begun to boil in the iron-gray sky. “It’s bullshit.”
Saul stared at him suspiciously. “Then you arrive home and the first thing you do is drag my dead boss out of the harbor. The gossips are sitting around having orgasms.”
“There’s a vision I did not need to have in my head.” Grady rolled his shoulder. “Despite claims otherwise, I wasn’t responsible for the hit and run and expect to be cleared as soon as the evidence techs finish analyzing my truck. And if I was planning to shoot Milton Bodurek, I wouldn’t have shown my face around town beforehand.” He grinned. “I’d have waited a couple of days first.”
Saul’s eyes popped.
“I’d forgotten he was your boss though.” He hadn’t forgotten a damn thing. “I’m sorry. Were you close to him?”
“Yeah, he was my boss. Good old Milt.” Saul’s expression was guarded. “We weren’t close. How come you were at the harbor anyway?”
“I argued with Crystal as soon as I got here last night. She was pissed I put a stop to her covertly making rental money off my property as I needed somewhere to stay.” Grady stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I went for a walk afterward.”
“You didn’t know about Crys renting the house out?” Saul asked curiously.
Grady shook his head.
“She told everyone she bought the place from you after your grandma died. I was surprised, but then when you didn’t come back…”
Grady expected to feel anger, instead pity welled up inside him. “Do me a favor. Don’t tell anyone that it’s my place not hers. Crys would die rather than lose face.”
“More likely she’d kill rather than lose face,” Saul muttered into his mug.
Grady grimaced. “True. And I don’t want to be a target any more than I have to be.”
“So, you went for a walk and just happened to see Milton floating around the harbor?”
Grady shook his head. He ran his finger along the edge of the veneer on the table that was so smooth with age he could see the worn-down layers at the edges. “When I was reacquainting myself with the sea air, I heard someone calling for help.”
“Brynn Webster?”
Grady nodded. “You know her?”
Saul shrugged. “Not well, unfortunately. Pretty thing, but a bit standoffish. Darrell dated her a couple of times before she went off to Yale to study art or something. She moved to Boston afterward and got married. She only came home recently because of this business with her mother.”
Grady didn’t know why he was so surprised that she’d dated Darrell, but he was. It was obvious Darrell wanted to rekindle that relationship, but she didn’t seem so keen. Or maybe that was wishful thinking on Grady’s part.
“This was back when you worked as a state trooper before joining the FBI,” Saul continued, angling his head. “Darrell seemed smitten with Brynn, but then he started dating Lorraine. The rest is history.”
“What happened to the guy Brynn married? Crystal said he left her.”
“Yeah. Dumped her for another woman apparently. Sent her some photos from Vegas or somewhere and told her they were done.”
Grady winced. “Harsh.”
“I felt for her,” Saul’s mouth pinched. “Then Brandy basically did the same to me. I think she got the idea from Brynn’s husband. Fuckers.”
“It sucks, man.”
Saul’s eyes grew curious. “You never met anyone?”
Grady forced a grim smile. “No one that would put up with me for any length of time.” Not that he ever let things get serious. He was too busy for a real relationship. And maybe too much like his father to risk it.
“I heard that when you reached the harbor, Brynn was already in the water?”
Saul had obviously heard a lot more than he’d originally let on.
“Yeah. It was fucking freezing. I had to jump in after her. I couldn’t stand on the sidelines like a useless prick.”
“Like Caleb Quayle, you mean?”
Grady snorted out a quiet laugh. “You said it.”
“Caleb is a loudmouth little shit like the rest of his family.” Saul rubbed his chin.
“Not so little anymore.” The guy had height and weight on Grady.
Saul frowned.
“What is it?” asked Grady.
Saul blinked. “Nothing.” He blew on his coffee to cool it.
Was Saul being evasive? Or was Grady’s suspicion tainting every interaction? “Can you think of any reason someone might murder your boss?”
“Aside from me?”
That startled Grady. “You didn’t like him?”
Saul shook his head. “Everyone thought Milton Bodurek was the cat’s meow, but he threatened to fire me when I was in the hospital with a gunshot wound. Said I didn’t do my job properly and then threatened to take the bank’s losses out of my wages—as if he paid me that much.” Anger burned along Saul’s cheekbones. “Worst thing was, he was right.”
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t even draw my gun to start with.”
“Were you expected to start a shootout in a bank full of people?”
“No, but according to Milton Bodurek, I was supposed to finish one.” Saul blinked away what might have been tears.
Not everyone trained with live ammo until it was muscle memory. Not everyone understood the effects of elevated stress levels on accuracy, making even a good marksman’s aim waver under duress. “You did the right thing keeping it holstered.”
“Well, then I fucked it up in the end.” He stroked his palm over his face. “Not sure what will happen to my job now he’s dead.” Saul looked thoroughly miserable.
“Any chance you’re entitled to compensation?” Grady asked.
“Maybe. Spoke to a lawyer but I don’t even know what will happen to the bank now Bodurek’s dead. I mean it’s still officially open, and the cops are investigating, but I’m not sure who’ll be in charge. Or whether they’ll want me back.”
It was entirely possible Milton’s death had something to do with greed and personal gain rather than anything to do with Eli Kane—but it was a hell of a coincidence.
Grady didn’t believe in coincidence.
Saul’s eyes turned assessing. “Don’t suppose you can put in a good word for me with the cops? The local deputies questioned me as if they thought I was in on it.”
“I’m not sure me vouching for you would do you much good right now, not until the FBI officially clears my name.” He rubbed the back of his neck. A prickle of guilt crossed his mind at lying to his old friend, but this community was too small to risk telling him the truth—his job was too important. “As long as you weren’t in on the robbery, I wouldn’t worry about it.”
Saul’s expression turned bitter. “I wish I was in on it. A few grand would be pretty useful right about now. Hey, maybe if you leave the FBI, we could go into business together like we used to talk about when we were kids.”
Grady smiled. “Running whale watching tours for the tourists?”
“Beats getting shot in the leg.” Saul rubbed his thigh as if the muscles ached.
“Anything beats getting shot in the leg.” Grady rose to his feet. “Better get going. I’ll see you around?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
The words were filled with a bitterness Grady recognized from his own feelings of frustration as a youth.
Grady headed out the back door to avoid Saul’s mother, who’d probably come up with a list of cutting insults in the time he’d been here. He’d rather die than admit he was scared of one old lady. He opened the door and caught another flash of the gray mutt. “Hey, you seen a stray dog running around?”
“Gray thing?”
“Yeah. Big shaggy dog.”
“Belongs to the Quayle family.” Saul’s eyes hardened. “They don’t take care of it. Poor thing is half starved. It almost got hit on the street the other day, but no one can catch it.”
