Forgotten Pieces
Tyler Anne Snell
She knows who killed his wife…if she could only remember A woman screaming into a phone sends Riker County detective Matt Walker racing to the rescue of his onetime nemesis, Maggie Carson. Four years ago, the green-eyed journalist accused him of killing his wife.Her first solid lead in the case she can't let go just landed Maggie in the custody of the Alabama lawman who hates her. The single mother can't remember the past twenty-four hours and now there's a target on her back. As they move closer to the truth…as desire turns enemies into passionate allies, Matt will move heaven and earth to protect Maggie—and the love that's bigger than both of them.
She knows who killed his wife…if she could only remember
A woman screaming into a phone sends Riker County detective Matt Walker racing to the rescue of his onetime nemesis, Maggie Carson. Four years ago, the green-eyed journalist accused him of killing his wife.
Her first solid lead in the case she can’t let go just landed Maggie in the custody of the Alabama lawman who hates her. The single mother can’t remember the past twenty-four hours and now there’s a target on her back. As they move closer to the truth…as desire turns enemies into passionate allies, Matt will move heaven and earth to protect Maggie—and the love that’s bigger than both of them.
The Protectors of Riker County
“Maggie.”
Matt’s voice was deep. Smooth. The only sound in her world at that moment. “I think you’re the center of it all and that message might have just proven it.”
“How?”
She needed the truth. She needed it so badly that she moved closer to the man. On reflex she tilted her head back to meet his stare easier. Had they ever been this close before?
And was it her imagination or did he look down at her lips?
“The message,” he repeated, derailing her unwelcome thoughts. “It proves that whoever wrote it either knows you or researched you well enough to get really personal information.”
“But why? Why would I need a reminder if I know him already?”
Maggie already didn’t like what he was going to say. A storm seemed to start up in his eyes. Deep eyes, drenched in mystery.
“My guess? He’s saying that he doesn’t just know you. He knows your past and your present.” She watched as his jaw hardened. “It’s a threat, Maggie. A personal one.”
Forgotten Pieces
Tyler Anne Snell
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
TYLER ANNE SNELL genuinely loves all genres of the written word. However, she’s realized that she loves books filled with sexual tension and mysteries a little more than the rest. Her stories have a good dose of both. Tyler lives in Alabama with her same-named husband and their mini “lions.” When she isn’t reading or writing, she’s playing video games and working on her blog, Almost There. To follow her shenanigans, visit www.tylerannesnell.com (http://www.tylerannesnell.com).
CAST OF CHARACTERS
Detective Matt Walker—After an accident takes his wife’s life, this detective spends years trying to move on. It isn’t until new evidence is discovered that he realizes he’ll have to revisit the one case that nearly destroyed him. Can he finally find the truth about what happened to his wife all of those years ago? And can he keep a beautiful and infuriating ex-reporter out of harm’s way while they search for it?
Maggie Carson—Once a rising young star in local journalism, this ex-reporter understands how quickly life can go downhill. After refusing to let go of a theory about the accidental death of Erin Walker, her life completely changes. Years later it turns out she might just have been right all along. Will she finally be able to find justice for a woman she never knew? Can she do it alongside the hot-as-hell detective who only thinks of her as the enemy?
Erin Walker—Late wife to Matt and killed by what is originally deemed as an accident, she becomes the subject of Maggie’s personal investigation spanning years after her passing.
Cody Carson—Adopted son of Maggie, this young boy is one of the main reasons Maggie and Matt will do whatever it takes to finish what someone else started all those years ago.
Dwayne Meyers—Retired detective and mentor to Matt, he becomes one of the many puzzle pieces in the investigation into Erin’s death.
Kortnie Bean—As an emergency-room nurse and quick friend to Maggie, she gets a firsthand look at what someone is willing to do to keep the ex-reporter quiet.
Sheriff Billy Reed—Friend and boss to Matt, he’s no stranger to the dangers of a case that’s personal, but that won’t stop him from doing everything within his power to help solve it.
This book is for Kortnie B. and every other ER nurse out there.
I can’t imagine what you all must go through during every shift
but I am immensely grateful that you do so with courage,
wisdom and compassion.
You’re the real superheroes.
Contents
Cover (#u6d4dcfdb-9463-5e33-a77b-9edccfceb55e)
Back Cover Text (#u9037dfb4-78ae-5897-95dd-039fb4e7ae54)
Introduction (#u838f104d-24e4-5e71-a062-d0d48413a69e)
Title Page (#ud13ac51d-03da-51d9-98ee-d1b1b85dd104)
About the Author (#u7d0e0a02-eec1-5413-9b19-1a4fe7eef21a)
Cast of Characters (#u66fae737-fd49-5ad4-af85-a1ce0e36ae1d)
Dedication (#u0610b87d-2062-5d8d-9884-ee6d0da404c5)
Chapter One (#u36d9ede5-26c5-55f8-be71-4227657787ce)
Chapter Two (#u2127105b-dafb-5953-913f-d499ffacb800)
Chapter Three (#u97caaa1d-b13c-5a9e-9bee-342f8fda761d)
Chapter Four (#ub4cc58f6-f6df-505d-ab63-063d3dd215c4)
Chapter Five (#u701b0ee1-3fcf-5516-b293-f9721a684182)
Chapter Six (#u24c03273-f16b-54a3-ab2c-2cc6991457b1)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#u8fa25e4c-ec79-5818-8fd1-6c1d0da32fbf)
“What’s a seven-letter word for a man who is an all-around donkey to the people who are just trying to help him?”
Maggie Carson shifted her weight to the other foot and blew a frustrated breath out. It moved a wayward spiral of hair out of her face. She tried to tuck it back into the makeshift ponytail holder but it was a no-go. Like her it was probably done with the flip-flopping, hot-and-cold weather. Humid to the point of feeling like you were swimming standing up and then nothing but a dry chill. It was like south Alabama had a fever. Not that she was overly concerned about the weather.
At least not when she was in the process of breaking and entering.
Or attempting to break and enter.
“Not going to answer me, huh?”
She gave the man crouched down next to her, fiddling with the lock, a look that would have done her reputation for being a handful proud. Except the man wasn’t having any of it. He kept his eyes straight ahead and his fingers working.
Those fingers.
Those hands.
Oh, Lordy, what she could do with those.
Maggie shook her head, and the thought, away, surprised it had sprung up in the first place. Sure, Detective Matt Walker was a twelve on a ten-point scale of yummy—there was no denying that—but he was also still Detective Matt Walker. A man who had once called her a no-good ambulance chaser, pot stirrer and a scourge against society without an ounce of regret or shame. Not that she blamed him. She had accused him of murder. His wife’s murder, to boot.
But she had apologized for that.
“Fine, I’ll tell you,” she said, bending at the waist to keep her volume low. The smell of some generic cologne wafted up to her. The image of his hands came back. Maggie powered through it. “The magic word is jack—”
The lock unlatched, distracting her from her insult. For now.
“Tricking me into coming over to break into your house because you got locked out isn’t helping me,” he deadpanned. “In fact, that’s making a false report and is punishable by law.” He stood tall and brushed off his jeans. “And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t fantasized about carting you off to jail before.”
A smirk pulled up the corners of his lips—the bottom one plump and ripe for the taking—but Maggie knew he was telling the truth without his snark. Which was why she’d kept her distance for the past five years. Still, it seemed there might not be enough time in the world to put their particular stream of water under the bridge.
“It’s not considered tricking if it’s the only way I can get the lead detective to come here,” she pointed out. “Also, I really did lock myself out. Two birds, one stone.”
Matt crossed his arms over his chest. For what felt like a long moment but she doubted stretched past a few seconds, Maggie took stock of the changes that had happened to his appearance since their last blowout years before. His hair was still a shade of dark dirty blond but now it was shaved short on the sides while the top had more length. It was a more controlled and clean look—probably part of being one of the county’s most beloved detectives—and paired like a fine wine with the dusting of facial hair he also, no doubt, kept maintained to the point where no one could ever complain that he was unkempt. Not that she’d seen him be anything but proper and in control during his career with the Riker County Sheriff’s Department. She might have been trying to avoid him but that didn’t mean she’d missed newspaper articles and stories of cases he was involved in on the local news.
However, in person, Maggie had to admit there were a few points that had been lost in the media’s translation of the man in front of her. The first and foremost was a pair of blue-gray eyes that always carried a hawk-like intensity. She imagined if she had the time she’d still not be able to put their level of intrigue on a scale. It was like looking into a spring and feeling its chill before ever even dipping a toe in the water. Then there was that jawline. The description of chiseled didn’t do him, or any woman caught staring at him, justice. It was so perfect that Maggie’s hand was itching to run along it before stopping just below his lips. For all she cared the rest of the man could have been a stick figure and she’d still rate him at an easy eleven. But it certainly didn’t hurt his cause that he was tall and had muscles peeking through his button-down. That was a change from the last time she’d seen him in person. He’d been more lean and less toned. Then again, she wasn’t surprised.
Everyone worked through grief differently.
Some people started a new hobby; some people threw themselves into the gym.
Others investigated unsolved murders in secret.
“And why, of all people, would you need me here?” Matt asked, cutting through her mental breakdown of him.
Instead of stepping backward, utilizing the large open space of her front porch, she chanced a step forward.
“I found something,” she started, straining out any excess enthusiasm that might make her seem coarse. Still, she knew the detective was a keen observer. Which is why his frown was already doubling in on itself before she explained herself.
“I don’t want to hear this,” he interrupted, voice like ice. “I’m warning you, Carson.”
“And it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve done so,” she countered, skipping over the fact he’d said her last name like a teacher readying to send her to detention. “But right now I’m telling you I found a lead. A real, honest-to-God lead!”
The detective’s frown affected all of his body. It pinched his expression and pulled his posture taut. Through gritted teeth, he rumbled out his thoughts with disdain clear in his words.
“Why do you keep doing this? What gives you the right?” He took a step away from her. That didn’t stop Maggie.
“It wasn’t an accident,” she implored. “I can prove it now.”
Matt shook his head. He skipped frustrated and flew right into angry. This time Maggie faltered.
“You have no right digging into this,” he growled. “You didn’t even know Erin.”
“But don’t you want to hear what I found?”
Matt made a stop motion with his hands. The jaw she’d been admiring was set. Hard. “I don’t want to ever talk to you again. Especially about this.” He turned and was off the front porch in one fluid motion. Before he got into his truck he paused. “And next time you call me out here, I won’t hesitate to arrest you.”
And then he was gone.
* * *
THE RIKER COUNTY Sheriff’s Department was quiet. Not that that was a bad thing but after the morning he’d had, Matt was itching to work a case. Anything to distract him from the storm of emotions raging through him. If he was being objective, he knew he’d be surprised at how one woman could affect him so completely. Then again, that woman was Maggie Carson. If she was good at anything it was leaving lasting impressions.
Without opening the bottom drawer, he imagined the picture within it. Erin Walker, smiling up at him. His beautiful wife. Unaware that a year later she’d be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Matt fisted his hands on the top of his desk.
“So you’re ticked off, huh?” A knock pulled his attention to the doorway and the man standing inside it. Sheriff Billy Reed wasn’t frowning but he wasn’t smiling, either. “I heard you answered a suspicious persons call on your way in this morning. A potential breaking and entering?”
Matt opened his hands slowly. He sighed.
Billy wasn’t just his sheriff, he was also one of Matt’s closest friends. There wasn’t any use trying to hedge around the truth. Or flat out lie.
“The only suspicious person was the woman who called in the false report to get me there in the first place. I should have let a deputy handle it but she asked specifically for me. It was a trap,” he admitted, earning an eyebrow raise from his boss, “set by Maggie Carson.”
Billy’s demeanor shifted to understanding. He might not have been sheriff five years ago but that didn’t mean he’d missed what had happened. Or why Matt had such an issue with Maggie.
“What did she want? I thought she hasn’t tried to talk to you in years.”
Matt tried to keep his rising anger in check.
“She said she had a lead that proves Erin’s death wasn’t an accident.”
Billy scowled, disapproval shrouding his expression.
“What’s the lead?”
“Hell if I know. I didn’t give her the chance to tell me,” he admitted. “She doesn’t have the best track record with me.”
“I thought she would have moved on from the case,” Billy said. “I wonder what it was she thought she found.” Behind his words was a new curiosity. And, if Matt hadn’t been so close to the situation, he would have listened to his own need to know. However, he was too close. And apparently, unlike Maggie, he had moved on.
“Maybe she’s tired of writing magazine fluff pieces,” Matt offered. “And now she’s trying to claw her way back to the news spotlight by digging up the past she has no business digging up.”
Billy stepped into the office. It was small and the bull pen of deputies started a few feet away. The sheriff must not have wanted them to hear what he was about to say, though. He lowered his voice.
“But what about the anonymous tip we got six months ago? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to hear her out?”
Matt started to bristle. He’d been completely blindsided when he’d received a call from a man who claimed the same thing Maggie had. That the car accident that had killed Erin and one other pedestrian, hadn’t been an accident at all. At the time the anonymous caller refused to identify himself unless Matt drove to Georgia to meet him. He’d only told Billy and the chief deputy, Suzy Simmons. They’d gone to the meet location together, only to find a note left with a waitress that read “I’m sorry.” Matt and Suzy had stuck around to try to track down the man but they hadn’t had any luck.
“That man could have been unstable or bored or both,” he said. “For all we know Maggie could have orchestrated the whole thing.” Even as he said it, Matt doubted his words. Whatever his issues with Maggie, he didn’t think she was that malicious. He let out another long breath. “I just—I’ve finally gotten to a good place with what happened to Erin,” Matt admitted. “And until I find some hard evidence that the accident that killed my wife wasn’t an accident at all, then I’d prefer to not start up and drag another investigation along.”
Billy nodded.
“And I don’t blame you for that,” he said. “If Maggie gives you any more trouble, let me know.” He cracked a smile and tapped the badge on his belt. “I’m not afraid to use this thing.”
Matt thanked him and spent the rest of the day avoiding any and all thoughts of Maggie, anonymous tips that led nowhere and an investigation he had drowned himself in years before. It wasn’t until he had left the department and was driving home in the setting sun that he didn’t have to distract himself from his thoughts. Instead, when his phone rang and the caller ID read “Dwayne,” Matt felt his lips pull up into a genuine smile. It had been months since he’d talked to the retired detective and, if he was being honest, his mentor.
“Well, it’s been a hot minute,” Matt answered, forgoing any formal greeting. He’d once spent an entire week fishing with the man. Any need for formalities between them had sunk to the bottom of the river along with the faulty lures Matt had purchased. “How’ve you—”
“Don’t,” someone yelled. But it wasn’t Dwayne and it wasn’t into the phone. Instead, it was in the background. And it was a woman. “Don’t do it!” A scream tore through the airwaves and, even though Matt couldn’t tell who it was, he made a hard U-turn.
“Dwayne?” he yelled into the phone. “Dwayne!”
A thud that made Matt’s stomach go cold preceded the phone call ending.
Matt called the number back. It went straight to voice mail. His car filled with obscenities in between calling dispatch and navigating to the outskirts of the city of Kipsy, right in the middle of the department’s jurisdiction. Matt had been to the former detective’s house on more than one occasion so when he pulled up and cut his engine, he knew outside the phone call that something was really wrong.
The screened-in front porch—a point of pride from the man, so mosquitos couldn’t eat him up while he enjoyed a beer or two—was left open, the door to it off its hinges. The wicker furniture was scattered around the space. Nothing else on the outside looked disturbed but what he’d seen was enough.
Without waiting for backup, Matt got out of his car as quietly as he could. If he hadn’t heard the woman scream he might have been more cautious. But he had. Which meant his gun came out and his attention turned to the house.
A small SUV he didn’t recognize was parked at the side but Dwayne’s truck was nowhere to be seen. Lights were on inside the house but as Matt got closer, he didn’t hear any voices or movement. The darkness of night had fallen around him, offering cover, but it also might give an assailant the same advantage. It was a thought that made him slow as he got to the front door. It was cracked open. Something Dwayne would never do.
Matt held his gun high and pushed the door the rest of the way open, adrenaline spiking and ready to confront whatever had gone wrong.
Or so he thought.
“What the hell?”
The room looked like a tornado had torn through it. Furniture was overturned, books and trinkets were scattered and, with a drop of his gut, Matt realized blood was smeared across parts of the hardwood floor. Which shouldn’t have been surprising, considering Dwayne was lying in the middle of the room, beaten badly, bloodied and unmoving.
What Matt couldn’t have prepared himself for was the body next to Dwayne’s.
It was Maggie. She was holding a bat covered in blood in one hand while a folder was next to the other. Matt felt like he was dreaming as his eyes focused on the name written across the top of it.
It was his name.
Chapter Two (#u8fa25e4c-ec79-5818-8fd1-6c1d0da32fbf)
It was her college graduation party all over again. Or, rather, the aftermath of it. Maggie’s head was pounding. Worse than the hangover she’d had after her roommate, Barb, had decided bringing cake-flavored vodka was a good idea. While it had been a hit at the time, Maggie had felt like she was the one who had been hit the next day.
Which was how she felt as she sat on a hospital bed, staring at an IV in one arm and a pair of handcuffs around her other wrist. It connected her to the hospital bed and, according to a deputy she didn’t know, had been an order. It was one of many things that had confused her since she’d come to in an ambulance, staring up at a woman asking her what her name was and if she could hear her.
While Maggie knew the hospital staff was doing all they could to make sure she was getting the treatment she needed, they sure as heck hadn’t bothered to fill her in on a few details. Like why she’d wound up in an ambulance to begin with, where she had been before the ambulance had been called and why she was barefoot. That last detail, of all things, irrationally bothered her more than the rest. Because, much like the aftermath of her graduation party, she seemed to be missing a chunk of memory. This time, though, she hadn’t the faintest idea what had prompted it.
A knock sounded on the door before a nurse pushed it open.
“How are you doing, Ms. Carson?”
A redheaded woman with bold lipstick and an easy smile slid into the room. When her gaze went to the handcuffs that smile tightened. Maggie decided to address the obvious.
“I’d really like to not be handcuffed,” she said. “And to not be in the hospital. Neither were on my to-do list today. Or, at least I don’t remember them if they were.”
The nurse gravitated over to the IV.
“The cuffs I can’t help,” she admitted. “But what I can do is ask how your head is feeling. So, Ms. Carson, how is your head?” She met Maggie’s stare. It was a look that was equal parts concerned and authoritative. She was trying to do her job and Maggie was being snarky. She sighed.
“There are few people in this world who ever use my last name and usually it’s when they’re about to yell at me. So, please, call me Maggie. But on the head-hurting front, it’s throbbing. Not as bad as before, but it’s there.”
The nurse looked at Maggie’s chart.
“And you’re still having trouble with recall?”
Maggie nodded. It hurt.
“I’m also having trouble understanding why my head hurts in the first place.” Maggie lowered her voice, trying to convey something she often tried to hide. Vulnerability. “Because no one, and I mean no one, has told me what happened to me since I woke up in an ambulance with my shirt and bra cut open and monitors stuck to my chest. So, please—” Maggie glanced down at the woman’s name tag “—Nurse Bean, give me something.”
For a moment the nurse looked like she was going to shake her head and try to offer another polite smile. Instead, she surprised Maggie by answering.
“To be honest, I just started my shift so I don’t know all of the details. What I do know is that you being knocked out wasn’t an accident.” Her lips thinned. “But as for who did it, why and where... I’m sorry. Those are questions I can’t answer.”
Maggie’s stomach turned cold. She knew she shouldn’t have been surprised that she had been attacked since it wasn’t every day she lost hours of memory, but having a nurse say it aloud was on the surreal side of uncomfortable.
“Well, I guess I’m glad to know I didn’t wind up this way after tripping and bumping my head or anything,” Maggie deadpanned. Sarcasm was her safety blanket. The throbbing from her head now made a fraction of sense. That in itself should have been comforting. But it wasn’t. “Thank you for leveling with me,” she added on. “I don’t want to say I’m scared but, well, it’s not a good feeling to be me right now. Thanks.”
The nurse gave a quick nod and smile of acceptance.
“Like you, I prefer to go by my first name. So call me Kortnie.” She took the chart and started to turn away. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to check on you.”
Maggie was ready to let her go and wait for someone who did know the inside scoop but then the cold steel of the handcuffs against her skin brought her attention to one more question.
“You have to at least know why I’m handcuffed, right?”
Kortnie’s smile faltered.
“That’s a question you should ask Detective Walker.”
* * *
“IS HE GOING to make it?”
Matt roused from the large square tile he’d been standing on for what felt like hours. It was outside Dwayne’s room and was better than standing and staring inside it. Matt didn’t like hospitals. Or, really, he didn’t like the helplessness that came with them. He couldn’t help Dwayne in his current condition. He couldn’t make him heal any faster. He couldn’t make him survive. All he could do was help from where he hovered and tried to puzzle out what had happened the night before. Not that he’d had much success in that department.
The sheriff repeated his question with an added inflection of empathy. He wasn’t as close to the retired detective as Matt but he knew him well enough to grab the occasional drink or watch a football game or two together.
“He’s out of the immediate woods but his injuries are extensive,” Matt answered, dragging a hand down his face. “He still hasn’t woken up and, if I read the doc’s body language correctly, there’s a good chance he might not. Or, if he does, he might not be the same Dwayne we knew. There was some bleeding on the brain.” Billy cursed beneath his breath. Matt let him finish before he continued, “So unless the crime scene yielded some incredible results, our only way of knowing what happened might be down there. And, like I told you on the phone last night, according to her doctor she’s having short-term memory issues.”
He pointed in the direction of Maggie Carson’s room. She’d been transferred out of the ER a few hours ago.
The sheriff followed his finger.
“Have you talked to her yet?” Billy asked.
Matt shook his head. Frustration, anger and more frustration sprang up at just the thought of the woman.
“When we first came in I stuck with Dwayne,” he admitted. “By the time he was stable and put in his room, she was getting CAT scans. Then she was out, thanks to some pain meds. I was going to wait until the morning to talk to her.” Matt really took in the sheriff’s appearance. He couldn’t help but smirk. “And considering there’s applesauce on your blazer, I’m assuming it’s morning.”
Billy looked down at the smudge and sighed but in no way seemed angry.
“What can I say? Alexa and I have a routine. She wakes up early and we negotiate how much applesauce she’s going to eat.” He motioned to the stain. “It’s a messy business. I’ve dealt with seasoned criminals that were easier to crack than this toddler.”
There was pride clear and true in the way Billy spoke of his daughter. It matched his unconditional love for his wife, Mara. Which was one of the reasons so many residents of Riker County took a shine to him. He was a good family man who worked hard to provide and protect. He was the straightest shooter Matt had ever known in law enforcement. Something that had not always been the case for everyone he had employed.
Matt watched as Billy sobered.
“I would tell you that going home to get some sleep might be the best course for you and that I can handle talking to Maggie,” he started. “But—”
“It’s Dwayne that got hurt and I won’t back off yet.”
Billy nodded.
“Then let’s go talk to Maggie.”
They marched down the hallway and knocked on the door. Matt spied the clock on the wall. Hours had indeed passed. It was almost seven in the morning.
“Come in!”
Matt took his attempt at a calming breath and followed the sheriff inside.
If he thought they’d be met with guilt or shame, he was wildly mistaken.
One look at him, and Maggie’s big green eyes got bigger. Her lips didn’t have time to purse. They were too busy parting to yell at him.
“I know you have your issues with me, but this is ridiculous, don’t you think?”
She shook her left arm.
Matt walked to the side of the bed as if he was going to inspect the cuffs. Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Considering the nature of what happened, we deemed it necessary.”
Maggie looked like a fish out of water, opening and closing her mouth, trying to find the right words to fight him with, no doubt. Billy, however, stepped in. He closed the door behind them and cleared his throat.
“Let’s calm down and talk,” he said.
“Can we talk about how I’ve been cuffed to a bed for the entire night and no one, until now, has decided to come and talk to me other than doctors?”
Maggie’s cheeks were flushed, Matt noticed. For the first time he realized there was a light dusting of freckles across her nose.
“Yes,” Billy said, channeling the calm that Matt had heard him use throughout their careers. “But first, tell us the last thing you remember.”
Maggie let out a breath of frustration.
“Sneaking off to my couch in the middle of the night because I couldn’t sleep. I channel surfed until I fell asleep in front of the TV.”
Matt shared a look with Billy.
“In the middle of the night,” Billy repeated. “And by night you mean...”
Maggie sighed.
“By night I mean Tuesday night.” She held up her hand in a stopping motion. “And, before you question my sanity, yes, I know that today is Thursday.”
“You’re missing more than twenty-four hours,” Billy spelled out. Maggie nodded. Matt noticed she was more inclined to look at the sheriff with controlled emotions. When she looked at him, he could see the fire burning behind her eyes. Not that he could blame her. The phrase “poking the bear” came to mind. Not that Maggie Carson in any way looked like a bear.
“So you don’t remember your conversation with Detective Walker yesterday?” Billy added on.
Maggie’s eyes widened.
“No?” Her eyebrow rose as she looked at Matt for an explanation.
He didn’t want to give it. He was too frustrated.
“Well, isn’t that convenient?” Matt muttered.
The comment didn’t go unnoticed. Maggie whipped her head around to Billy and then back to Matt.
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? Do you think I’m making this up? Why would I even do that?”
“Oh, I don’t know, covering your a—”
“Detective,” Billy interrupted, voice sharp. Matt felt anger surge again. If he was honest, it was misplaced. While he did have issues with Maggie Carson, he had never pegged her for a violent woman. Aggressive with her words, sure. Stubborn to the point where he really had fantasized about arresting her a few times, absolutely. But was she capable of beating a man in his sixties to the point of potential brain damage? No. He felt it in his gut, whether or not he wanted to absolve her of the accusation that she’d done it.
Still, the only witnesses that they knew of were both in the hospital. One might never wake up. The other was claiming memory loss. That was a tough pill to swallow no matter who the two were.
“I’m sure the doctor would be happy to talk to you about it.” Maggie cooled down as she spoke to Billy. “But I would like to know why you thought I would make it up.”
She kept her eyes firmly on Billy. He squared his shoulders.
“What’s your relationship with Dwayne Meyers?”
Matt watched closely as Maggie’s expression turned to confusion. Her eyebrows drew together. She tilted her head ever so slightly to the side.
“I wouldn’t say we have one,” she answered. “I mean, we know each other and I’ve interviewed him before. But other than that I don’t think you could even classify us as friends. Why do you ask?”
“Because I found you at his house,” Matt said.
Again Maggie tilted her head to the side. Like the movement would shake loose a memory that would make the puzzle whole. Then her face lit up.
“Well, then, did he tell you who did this to me?” She motioned to the back of her head where the initial blow that had knocked her unconscious had happened. While waiting for the ambulance Matt had inspected the injury in an attempt to understand the situation a little better. It hadn’t helped. “Unless... Did he do this to me?”
“That’s what we’re trying to piece together,” Billy hedged.
“Why not ask Dwayne?”
Matt took another step forward. He knew Billy was trying to ease the woman into the information to see how she reacted but Matt was tired of it. Tired in general. It was time to cut to the chase.
“Because you weren’t the only one I found,” he started. “Dwayne was beaten badly with, as far as we can guess, a baseball bat. One that you were holding when I found you.”
A crinkle began to deepen between Maggie’s eyebrows. She took a moment to respond with notable reserve.
“You think someone attacked us both and left the bat behind?”
“Or it was you who attacked Dwayne,” Matt offered.
That crease turned from concern to something he couldn’t read. It caught Matt off guard.
“I might not remember an entire day or so, but I wouldn’t hurt Dwayne Meyers. In fact, I wouldn’t use a bat to hurt anyone unless it was self-defense,” she said, voice even. “And, even if I had, what do you think happened? You think I used him as batting practice and then knocked myself unconscious? What would I gain from any of that?” This time her eyes found Matt’s and hunkered down on them. “I know you don’t like me but do you really think I’m capable of that?”
Matt remembered the first time he’d seen Maggie Carson. Her thick, wavy hair had been short then, but still wild. Despite five years it was the same dark oak color with a few new spots of lightened brown from, he guessed, days spent outside in the sun. She was still slender, as she had been back then, but not as rigid. When she’d first introduced herself Matt remembered thinking she looked very much like a woman with the world on her shoulders, forced to struggle to keep them upright. He’d never stopped to think about the woman’s personal life much past that, considering she had been there to question him about Erin’s death. But now?
Matt caught himself wondering about the life of the woman staring up at him with true, forest green eyes. Ones he realized he’d never really forgotten.
Ones he realized he believed.
But then what had gone on in that house?
Chapter Three (#u8fa25e4c-ec79-5818-8fd1-6c1d0da32fbf)
Matt opened his mouth to answer Maggie’s question when a knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. The three of them turned just as it was opened.
A young woman, maybe early twenties, flushed at the sight of them.
“Oh, I—I’m sorry,” she said hurriedly, eyes bouncing across each of their faces. “The nurse said you were awake and we could come back.”
No sooner than she’d said the word we did a boy with round glasses pop his head around her hip. His gaze went straight to Maggie’s.
Out of Matt’s periphery he saw her entire demeanor change.
“Well, hey there, little dude,” she exclaimed, voice softening.
The boy, perhaps five or six, beamed. Then, just as quickly, he shrank back and looked up at the men. He was shy.
“It’s okay,” Maggie coaxed. “These are Mommy’s friends.”
Mommy? Matt thought, surprised. He hadn’t known she had a kid.
“We can come back,” the younger woman blurted out, face now completely red. Her gaze shifted to Maggie again and then dropped down to what must have been her wrist cuffed to the railing. “I—I can skip class today,” she offered.
Matt took a step to his right until he was touching the bed. It effectively cut off everyone’s view of the cuffs.
Billy cleared his throat.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” he said, stepping forward with his hand outstretched. He moved into the woman’s and child’s sightlines, also blocking Maggie from view. “I’m Sheriff Billy Reed.”
Matt turned, pulling his handcuff key out. Maggie remained silent as she watched him uncuff her as quietly as he could. She met his gaze and gave one small nod.
A silent thank-you.
It, like the boy, caught him off guard.
He returned it with a nod of his own.
Like she said, he might have issues with her, but he wasn’t heartless. The boy was probably already freaked out that his mother was in the hospital.
But where was his dad?
Matt turned back to the sheriff and his conversation, trying to move past thoughts of Maggie’s love life. He had bigger things to worry about.
“I’m Larissa. I babysit Cody occasionally.”
“So then, you must be Cody,” Billy said. Matt watched him kneel down in front of the boy. He nodded. “And I’m guessing you are ready to hang out with your mom for a bit.” Again the boy nodded. “Well, why don’t I make you a deal? You go grab a quick hug from her and then you can walk with me to the vending machine down the hall for an early-morning candy bar while my friend Matt finishes talking to your mom.” Matt didn’t have to be next to Cody to see his face light up at the mention of a candy bar. Billy turned to Maggie. “If that’s okay with you?”
“Only if you save half of it for me,” she said with a grin. Another expression Matt wasn’t used to seeing from the woman.
Cody nodded, raced forward and jumped on the bed for a hug. Maggie winced but kept smiling. Even with the meds she was being fed there must have still been some pain from the hit that had knocked her out. She returned the hug with a few words in the boy’s ear Matt couldn’t hear. He giggled and then was off with the sheriff. Larissa followed, still flushed.
“If you needed a reason to believe I didn’t attack Dwayne, then that boy is it,” Maggie started. “I don’t need to be able to remember the last day to tell you with certainty that I wouldn’t jeopardize his life by suddenly being a violent and callous woman.”
“Then give me a reason why you were at Dwayne’s,” Matt said. “Because I can’t accept that everything that happened in the last day came out of nowhere. If you weren’t friendly with the man, then you must have been talking to him about something.”
That crease between Maggie’s eyebrows came back in force. Her eyes unfocused and her normally plump lips thinned. She was thinking. About what, though, he’d pay good money to be in on.
“I have had no reason to talk to Dwayne in years,” she finally said. “Whatever the reason was, it must have happened yesterday.” Matt was about to open his mouth and vent his frustration when Maggie continued. This time, however, there was a different tone to her words. “But the last time I talked to him, years ago...”
Her gaze slid up to his. Slow. Almost sheepish.
Matt didn’t have to be a detective to figure out what she was trying to say.
“The last time you talked to him was after my wife died,” he inserted. Even as he said it the old ache of loss sounded in the distance. “And then yesterday you tried to tell me you could prove Erin’s death wasn’t an accident.”
He read surprise clearly on the woman’s face. If she was faking it, she was doing a damned good job.
“Let me guess, another thing you don’t remember.”
Maggie shook her head.
“No but yes,” she said. “I was looking into the accident again but I definitely didn’t have any proof.”
Maggie sat up straighter. Again her gaze found his. Even with her makeup washed off, there was an almost-open kind of beauty about her. Like she had nothing to hide. But he knew better. Not only did she have something to hide, she’d also hidden it well from him for years.
“Matt,” she started, unblinking. “I know you have a hard time believing this but I think I might have figured out who killed your wife.”
* * *
“I’M GOING TO release you from custody for a few different reasons and with a condition or two.”
Sheriff Reed had his arms crossed over his chest but didn’t look like he was being pained to talk to her. Unlike the detective. After she’d dropped her bombshell, she’d more than expected him to give her a weighty, anger-filled lecture. Instead, he’d excused himself and gone into the hallway. Now she was staring at the sheriff, wondering if he knew what she’d admitted to the detective.
“Okay, I’m listening,” she added when she realized Sheriff Reed wanted a confirmation.
He held up his index finger and ticked off his points as he made them.
“One, where you were struck with the baseball bat suggests that someone swung and hit you from behind.” He held up his other hand to stop her questions and continued, “Based on the angle of the wound, it would have been nearly impossible for you to have been able to hit that spot with enough force to knock yourself out cold. Which means we’re looking for a third person who was in that house. Detective Ansler is on scene and CSU will get back to us when they find something. For all we know you walked in on a robbery in progress. Two, your doctor has cleared you health-wise so I don’t see a reason to force you to stay in one of these rooms when I know exactly where you live. And some of your neighbors, too. Including a very observant Deputy Carrington.” There was a warning beneath the words. Or maybe it was a promise. It was the sheriff’s way of flexing his connection muscles.
Basically he was saying, “Don’t try to run or do anything stupid because I have eyes and ears almost everywhere in town.”
But Maggie had no reason to run. However, doing something stupid was an entirely different ballgame. She preferred the phrase “risk taking.”
“Three,” he continued, holding up three fingers. “As much as I dislike the digging that you’ve done into the life and pain of Detective Walker, it’s highly likely that the circumstances surrounding your and Dwayne’s attack could be related to you digging into Erin’s death and not just random. That’s too much of a coincidence for me to ignore. I want to see what information you do have on the case. And why someone might want that information, if that’s what they were after.” Sheriff Reed sobered. “But you will not continue to look into Erin’s death, understood?”
Maggie liked to think she could read people. Or at least, know what they really meant when they said something. That was how she knew that the sheriff meant every word of the command. And there was nothing she could say to him in that moment to convince him otherwise. So she decided to lose this battle.
But not the war.
“Understood.”
Sheriff Reed nodded. His shoulders loosened considerably.
“And the last reason is your son, Cody,” he said. “I hadn’t realized his father wasn’t in—”
“He doesn’t have a father,” Maggie interrupted so quickly she surprised herself. The sheriff amended his statement.
“I hadn’t realized you were a single parent with no immediate family in the area who he could stay with until this is all figured out. A hospital is no place for a kid to hang out unless absolutely necessary.”
“Normally, I’d agree,” Maggie said after a moment. “But if my being at Dwayne’s was because I was investigating, then what if that third person in Dwayne’s house decides to come after me? Surely I’ve seen their face. Cody will be in danger.”
“Which brings me to my two conditions,” he said. “I want you to keep to your normal routine, including his, until we have this sorted out. Send your son to school today. I know what it’s like to disrupt a kid’s routine when they’re young. He’ll be safe there and in the meantime we can make sure your house is safe just in case. I would also like you to not talk about what happened to you until we have a better handle on the situation. That includes the media... And no personal reporting of any kind. This story, you need to keep under wraps. It’ll be a whole hell of a lot easier getting information when we don’t have to sift through a county’s worth of theories on what happened. Not yet at least.”
“Okay, I can do that, I guess,” she said. Though she could feel the prickling sensation of curiosity trying to expand within her. She wanted to hit the street, ask questions and get answers about what had happened to her. What had she found? How did Dwayne fit in? Or maybe she’d simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Still, that left the question of who had attacked them. One she wanted answered, even if it had nothing to do with her personal investigation. Plus, the sheriff was probably right. Lying low might be the best thing for her. Maybe her memories would return if she took it easy.
Ha. Easy. Like I’ve ever done what’s easy.
Before the sheriff could read any mischief in her expression, Maggie sat up straighter and cleared her throat.
“So what’s the last condition?” she asked. “Because I’d really like to leave this charming place as soon as possible.”
The sheriff definitely wasn’t smirking anymore. In fact, he almost looked hesitant.
“What happened could have been a case of you seeing something you shouldn’t have by accident, caught as an innocent bystander and targeted for that reason. But we have no proof. Just as we have no proof that your life could be in danger. So for the public’s safety and your own, I am relinquishing you into the custody of Detective Matt Walker effective immediately.”
Maggie opened her mouth to argue but the sheriff was faster on the draw.
“Until we find out what happened in that house, Ms. Carson, this decision is final. Arguing with me won’t work.”
Maggie lifted her chin a fraction. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“No offense, Sheriff, but you’ve never heard me argue before.”
Chapter Four (#u8fa25e4c-ec79-5818-8fd1-6c1d0da32fbf)
There were a lot of questions but not many answers. At least none that led Matt to a clear picture of what had happened at Dwayne’s house. Although Maggie had admitted to looking into Erin’s accident, she’d gone tight-lipped as they left the hospital. Then again, that might have had more to do with Cody being caught between them as they got into Matt’s off-duty, dark green Jimmy. The six-year-old had kept his eyes wide as Maggie talked to him in the back seat. She reminded him of a lesson she’d already taught him.
Don’t talk to strangers.
In the rearview mirror Matt could see the boy took the conversation seriously. He watched Maggie with concentration that furrowed his brow. When she was done that concentration turned to worry. He didn’t understand what had changed. From what they’d pieced together from Billy talking to Larissa before she left for the community college was that everything had been normal the day before.
Larissa lived near Cody’s school and often picked him up and watched him until Maggie was done with work between four and five. Around four thirty Maggie had texted and asked if she could watch the boy until eight. After that she’d called from the hospital. Larissa had offered to keep him for the night. She hadn’t told Cody why the impromptu sleepover had happened.
And now, sitting in the back seat, Matt could almost see the boy trying to figure out what had changed their normal routines to include a last-minute stay with his babysitter, a trip to the hospital and a talk about strangers.
Maggie must have sensed it, too. Matt glanced into the mirror in time to see her press her thumb between his eyebrows. She rubbed the crease gently and smiled.
“Wrinkles are for me, not you,” she said. “Don’t worry, little dude. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.” Her voice had gone gentle, maternal strength backing up each word. It was such a contrast from the woman he knew that it surprised a smile out of him. Thankfully she didn’t see it. “And if you promise not to worry, I’ll see what I can do about taking you, Josh and Emily to the science museum in Kipsy sometime soon.”
Matt didn’t have to see the boy’s face to know Maggie had just hit negotiation gold. A quick intake of breath from him was followed by a bigger smile reflected on his mom.
“I can show Emily the tornado ride,” Cody exclaimed. “And we can play with the burp machine!”
“And don’t forget the puzzle room,” Maggie added on.
Cody squealed and launched into his favorite things he’d done the last time they’d been there. Along with the tornado ride, burp machine and puzzle room, he’d had fun in the music house where the floor was a keyboard. Judging by the quick sigh Maggie let out, she had not been a fan of the music house.
She caught Matt’s eye and shook her head.
“That place is the devil,” she supplied, in no way stopping the boy’s conversation. He stared out the window, still counting off the different rides, exhibits and interactive experiments the museum had. “Imagine a marching band forced into one room and each one is playing a different, horribly out-of-sync tune. I’d rather take another bat to the head.”
Despite himself, Matt almost smiled.
The pleasantries ended after they got to the school. Matt talked to the principal about keeping an eye out for anything or anyone suspicious, just in case, while Maggie sweet-talked the boy’s teacher into dropping the mark against him being late. Or intimidated the teacher. Matt didn’t know. The Maggie he’d met years ago was starting to look like a different Maggie now.
When they rendezvoused back at the Jimmy, however, it was all business. Another surprise, considering Maggie had been the one to start it.
“Okay, we need to retrace my steps from yesterday.” She jumped in and buckled her seat belt but gazed straight ahead. “Let’s start at my house and see what we can find there.”
“You may have been released into my custody but that doesn’t give you the right to issue orders,” he reminded her. Though he agreed with her idea. He navigated out of the parking lot and pointed the SUV in the same direction he’d headed the day before.
“Sorry, I just assumed you’d want to figure out what happened,” she said. The gentleness she’d used with her son had definitely gone to school with him. “I didn’t realize you had something better to do.”
Matt muttered some bad things beneath his breath. All of which Maggie didn’t comment on. She was a smart woman. She knew which buttons to press. And when to stop pressing them altogether.
Or, at least, he thought she had. The fact that she was still trying to make something of Erin’s death proved otherwise.
“So what do we know so far?” she said when he’d found a more peaceful state of mind. “Has CSU found anything helpful at Dwayne’s house yet?”
Matt didn’t like that he shook his head.
“Detective Ansler is supposed to update me when he gets more information on the prints found at the scene but I do know that a partial was found that didn’t belong to you or Dwayne. Other than that, nothing of interest has been reported so far. You could tell a struggle had taken place but other than that I didn’t have a chance to really investigate. I rode with Dwayne to the hospital when the EMTs got there. The sheriff and Ansler took over.”
“Then why don’t we go now?” Maggie asked, sitting up straighter.
“You want to go back to the scene of a crime where you’re one of the suspects?” he had to ask. “That definitely isn’t going to fly.”
“I’m also one of the victims,” she argued. “And how are we supposed to figure out what happened if you just admitted you didn’t even have enough time to really look at the house? Plus, maybe something will jog my memory!”
It was a good idea, he had to admit, but he’d been burned by Maggie Carson’s enthusiasm one too many times.
“How about you just leave the police work to the police? Despite the thoughts that I’m sure fill your head, last I checked you weren’t law enforcement. In fact, last time I checked, you weren’t even a reporter.”
Maggie bristled. Her lips thinned. The air in the SUV seemed to go arctic.
And just like that Matt found a way to shut Maggie Carson up.
* * *
THE HOUSE AT the end of Birchwood Drive had a yellow door that stood out like a sunflower among a bucket of weeds. The moment they turned on the street, her eye was drawn to the door like there was a bull’s-eye painted across the front. It made Maggie feel a touch of warmth just looking at it.
Because man, had she fought tooth and nail with the homeowners association about it.
The memory of fighting for something, even as small as the color of a door, made the detective’s words’ sting lessen. But not enough to press him further about going to Dwayne’s. Instead, she decided to focus on another mystery.
Like what she had done after taking Cody to school the day before.
Her thoughts stalled when she realized something she hadn’t even thought about until the house was right in front of her.
“The sheriff said my car was at Dwayne’s but empty,” she said when he cut the engine in the driveway.
“Yeah?”
“Including my purse, which also wasn’t in the house.”
Matt nodded.
For the first time that day Maggie let her shoulders sag.
“So along with my car key, it’s safe to assume my house key is no longer in my possession.” Matt turned to the front door. He hadn’t thought about that detail, either. Maggie sighed. “You said you picked my lock yesterday morning? Another event I can’t remember. Think you could put on a repeat performance?”
The detective led the way to the backyard and to the back door with notable tension lining his shoulders. He kept his left arm tucked close to his stomach. Ready to unholster his gun, she bet. Something she might have deemed unnecessary under different circumstances.
“Give me a heads-up before you crack the lock,” she said at his elbow as they walked up the steps. “I might not remember what I did yesterday but I never leave the house without setting the alarm. I’ll need to run to the front door and disarm it once the door is—” Maggie watched, confused, as Matt opened the back door with no problems.
“Do you normally leave your doors unlocked?”
Maggie didn’t answer right away. She was listening for what should have been a familiar sound.
“Not on purpose,” she finally said. “But again, I always turn on the alarm before I leave. Or at least I thought I did.” She motioned to the house and met the detective’s eyes. “The alarm beeps until you disarm it and—”
“And there’s no beeping,” he finished, turning back to the open door. He unholstered his gun. “Anyone else live here?”
“No. Just me and Cody.”
“Anyone else have the code?”
“Only Larissa but she has classes until two today.”
Matt gave one curt nod followed by an equally curt order.
“Stay here.”
“Yes, sir.”
She moved to the side of the doorway as Matt held out his gun and went inside. Despite his order and her common sense, Maggie wanted to follow him. She wasn’t a stranger to taking risks, though admittedly she had taken a good deal less of them since Cody had arrived, but leaving the door unlocked and the alarm off? That didn’t sound like her. Not even memory-less her. Something must have made her leave in a hurry.
Or someone.
That thought was the glue that kept her feet in place while the detective spent the next few minutes going through the house. During that time she revolved through question after question in her head. No matter which mystery popped up about her blank yesterday, she never reached any memories. No leads. No answers.
“No one’s in here,” Matt said, reappearing in the doorway. His eyes found hers with a notable amount of suspicion. If it was directed at her she didn’t know. “Nothing jumped out at me that might shed some light on everything but then again, this isn’t my place. I don’t know what to look for.”
They walked into the house, both uneasy. Maggie felt her defenses—and sarcasm—rising. In the past few years her social life had declined. The people who frequented her house were few and far between. Not that she was unhappy with her life. She just wondered what conclusions the man had drawn from his pass-through.
He followed her as she went clockwise through the house, starting at the kitchen and ending in the living room. It was the heart of their home and most lived-in. Stranded toys mingled with books and blankets and other odds and ends that never seemed to get sorted to their rightful places outside the room.
The detective stood sentry next to one of the large windows at the front of the house. His gun was back in its holster but his hands hung at his sides, ready to do whatever was necessary.
Maggie took a moment to watch the man. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about him off and on throughout the years. Mostly when a case he was working crossed over the media airwaves. She might have switched from a reporter to a magazine writer but that didn’t mean she’d stopped reading the paper. But there had been moments, quiet moments, where the detective had crossed her mind without her conscious volition.
He’d just be there. Like he was now.
A man she barely knew.
A man who loathed her.
A man seemingly always in sync with the world.
Except when it came to her.
Maggie cleared her throat. She wasn’t about to give herself permission to think about the detective as anything but a pain in her side. No. She wasn’t allowed.
“Okay, so as far as I can tell the house is how I would normally leave it.”
“Other than the unlocked door and the disabled alarm,” Matt supplied.
“Yeah, except those. Everything else, though, looks like it did before the memory loss.” To prove her point further, she turned to the couch. “See, my pillow from the other night is still there—”
Maggie’s eyes caught on to a few details she’d missed. The strangeness of what she was seeing must have shown in her expression. The detective’s body language became more open. He faced her with a look split between curiosity and concern.
“What is it?”
Maggie walked to the coffee table and paused. She pointed to the contents on its wooden top.
“Those are my keys,” she said, thoroughly confused. “My house and car keys.” She started to pick them up as if the physical contact would somehow answer the questions starting to spring up in her head when she noticed something else between the table and the couch. “And this is my purse.”
“What?”
Maggie picked up her bag. She pulled out her wallet and flipped it open. Her ID, credit cards and money were inside. The same as she remembered it from before her memory blanked out.
“Everything’s here.”
It was a statement but even to her ears, her confusion was still running rampant. The half-filled cup of coffee with lipstick marks on its edge didn’t help.
“You may think I’m a lot of things but let me tell you, messy isn’t one of them.”
“But you and your car were at Dwayne’s,” Matt added. “How did the keys end up back here?”
Like someone had flipped a switch, a new theory blazed across Maggie’s mind. She turned around and walked straight to the kitchen. Matt’s boots were heavy against the hardwood as he followed.
“Do you remember something?”
Maggie rounded the breakfast bar and made a beeline for the three metal canisters on the counter next to the sink. The one labeled Flour was open, its lid next to it. She was sure of what she wouldn’t find within it but still had to look. After she did she turned, confused.
“It’s gone.”
“What’s gone?”
“The spare key to my car.” She motioned to the canister. “I kept it in there.”
Matt looked between her and the tin for a moment.
“So let’s assume you used your spare car key to drive your car to Dwayne’s,” he said. “Why would you need it when your original car key is in the other room? And why not take your purse?”
“Why leave a half-filled cup of coffee out? Why leave the back door unlocked and not the front? And why not set the alarm?”
Matt’s eyes widened. Like her, his switch had flipped.
“Because you needed to leave in a hurry,” he guessed. “But why not grab your things?”
Maggie walked to the door that opened into the kitchen. From where she stood she couldn’t see the living room. But she could see the back door.
“I’m not one to make baseless guesses, despite your personal opinion of me, but I think someone was with me here yesterday,” she started. A knot of cold began to form in her stomach. “And whoever they were must have said or done something I really didn’t like.”
Chapter Five (#u8fa25e4c-ec79-5818-8fd1-6c1d0da32fbf)
“It’s a theory,” Matt reminded the sheriff. He was standing in the living room, phone to his ear, and looking down at Maggie’s key ring. After she’d become convinced of what had happened, he’d had to reel her in a bit. She’d excused herself to shower, not that he blamed her with dried blood caked on her head and a hospital stay that had extended through the night. Now he was bringing Billy up to speed. “But I have to agree it may be right on the money. I mean it looks like she just got up and got out. It’s not adding up.”
“Then we must not have the right numbers,” Billy said. The background noise of the department filtered through the phone. It reminded Matt that he hadn’t been home since he left for work yesterday. “I’ll keep things going on my end while Ansler runs point on the investigation.”
“You’re giving lead to Ryan?” Matt asked, surprised. He was head detective in the sheriff’s department and had been employed with them for four years longer than Ryan Ansler. Not to say that Matt didn’t like the man. He was just more invested in figuring out what had happened thanks to his friendship with Dwayne. Which, he realized two seconds too late, might have been the problem.
“You need to figure out Ms. Carson’s part in all of this,” Billy said. “Whether or not she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, at the right place at the wrong time, or did exactly what she wanted to do. Finding out what happened with her is the key to solving this case. Trying to juggle everything at the same time won’t help Dwayne. Getting answers about what happened at that house might. Let Ansler and me cover the other details and questions. You focus on Carson.”
Billy was right. Like always.
Matt ended the call and decided to explore his surroundings while he was alone. It was less curiosity and more of an attempt to keep his mind from settling until he could ask Maggie some real questions. Ones that she did have answers for. Like the investigation into Erin’s accident.
He imagined his late wife as he often did. Years later and he could still trace every curve of her face in his mind. Bright eyes, button nose, all smiles. He felt more at home in those snatches of memories than he ever had since the accident. Matt didn’t know if that was because he’d moved on or that he hadn’t.
Depending on the day he could give an answer one way or the other.
Today, though?
He wasn’t sure.
The inside of Maggie’s house was surprisingly cozy, all things considered. Beige and white, linens, blue and yellow pops of color and various pictures of Cody, herself and a few people Matt didn’t recognize. He didn’t know what he had expected of the ex-reporter—maybe newspapers and magazines scattered around or a bulletin board filled with pictures all connected by strings—but normal hadn’t been it.
He moved from the living room to what he guessed was a converted dining room currently being used as an office. At least this room looked more like the speed of the Maggie he remembered. Surrounding her computer was a sea of notebooks, papers and empty coffee mugs. A small filing cabinet was tucked next to the desk, partially hidden by a wooden side table standing over it. Matt walked closer to inspect it. There was a lock on the bottom drawer.
A treadmill was tucked in the corner and against the left wall, while a small bookcase stood on the right and seemed to be dedicated to Cody. Colorful spines filled the openings while toys were interspersed between some of the covers. Matt paused at one and smiled. It was a toy cop car.
From there his attention roamed over the pictures hanging on the wall in this room. A collage of more unfamiliar faces hung above the desk while a picture of a newborn Cody sat in the center. He’d had a lot of hair as a baby and was swaddled in a blue blanket, filling up the entire image.
And then there Erin was. Heralding a memory of the first time they’d talked about having kids. He’d just joined the Riker County Sheriff’s Department and she was working through nursing school. They’d decided to wait until their life became less hectic.
Now here he was, years later, standing in Maggie Carson’s house wondering what his own child might look like.
It was another question he didn’t have an answer to. However, it shepherded in a thought that had been in the back of his mind as he moved around the house, looking at pictures.
“Investigating and snooping are separated by the finest of lines, Detective Walker. I thought you of all people would know when you’re toeing it.”
Maggie came to a stop at Matt’s side. A sweet aroma wafted off her, filling his senses before he’d known what hit him. Shampoo or soap or perfume. He didn’t know which but it didn’t matter. It caught him off guard all the same.
“Don’t worry, I know the urge to not answer a question is hard to resist,” she continued. “Did you finally get some insight into me? Find anything interesting, Mr. Keen Eye?”
She was teasing him. There was a small smile pulling up the corners of her lips. It caught his attention and held it for a few beats too long. It also applied pressure to the idea that he despised the woman next to him. That she was nothing more than a pain in the ass. His ass.
Maggie put a fist on her hip. She must not have liked his slow response time.
“Oh, come on, Detective,” she said more harshly. “Make an observation about me based on what you’ve seen. Wow me with your skills.”
“It’s not as loud as I thought it would be,” he started, rising to the challenge. “The house I mean. With how you present yourself in public and one-on-one I assumed this place would be...more chaotic. Instead, it’s pretty calm. Ordered. Except in here.”
He motioned to the desk and the scattered papers around her computer.
“But I bet my badge that all of those are just for show. I can’t imagine someone like you would leave any important documents out like that. Even in your own house. I imagine those are tucked inside that filing cabinet.” Matt motioned to the coffee cups next. “I also assume you work at home, considering the amount of coffee cups on your desk and the treadmill. I bet you use it when you get tired of sitting around all day. Unless I’m wrong and you work late nights instead.” He walked over to the toy cop car. “And if I had to take a stab in the dark about this, I would bet you tried to talk Cody out of this toy, explaining that cops are too by the book for your liking.”
Maggie’s eyebrow stayed high. She raised her hands in mock defense.
“Your words, not mine,” she said. “But anyone could have drawn the same conclusions if they’d just walked through the house. Especially if they already knew me or, at least, of me. It’s not a hard stretch to see a treadmill and coffee cups in an office and guess the person works at home.”
There was no smugness there but Matt did recognize a challenge when he heard one. Maggie was baiting him to prove himself.
So he did.
Dropping any hint of a smile from his lips he walked back over to her desk. He pointed to the baby picture of Cody. Her smile wavered before he even spoke.
“You adopted Cody,” he said simply. “The house is filled with pictures of him as a toddler but this is the only one I’ve seen of him as a baby. And it’s cropped, which means you weren’t the one holding him.”
Like a candle that had been lit, Matt could almost see her intention to tease him start to burn away. She crossed her arms over her chest.
“I suppose if you make enough guesses you’re bound to get one right.” Her smile had dwindled down to barely there but he wasn’t reading anger from her. “The first time I met Cody he was three.” She motioned to the picture of him as a baby. “That was the only picture that had been taken of him until he was placed in foster care. I make sure he knows that even though I wasn’t there, I still like to look at how cute my baby boy was.”
“He knows he’s adopted, then.”
Maggie nodded.
“There’s nothing wrong with being adopted,” she said, resolute. “And I wanted to make sure he knew that at an early age. I’m sure he’ll have more questions when he’s older but so far, he’s never had any problems calling me Mom. Even if I tell him it’s a little too formal sounding. But he’s a mini genius so I guess that comes with the territory.”
This time the smile grew. Love. Pure and genuine.
Matt might not have known Maggie Carson as well as he’d once thought but in that moment he knew one thing for certain. She loved her son with all of her heart.
He opened his mouth to say something when his ringtone went off. The caller ID read “Ryan Ansler.”
“That was fast,” Matt muttered. He looked at Maggie before pressing Accept. “Give me a minute.”
* * *
THE DRIED BLOOD had washed away easily enough in the shower but that didn’t mean Maggie wanted to push her luck by blow-drying her hair. The gash left by the bat wasn’t bad enough to need stitches but it was still throbbing enough to be uncomfortable. She stood across from her reflection in her en suite, trying to see if the past two days were showing.
She felt tired and her legs were a little sore. The former could have been attributed to the sleep she’d gotten off and on in the hospital but the latter was troubling. Matt had been right about her working from home and using the treadmill when she felt too cooped up or restless. She wasn’t ready to knock out any marathons but over the past few years she’d gotten into fairly decent shape.
So why were her legs sore?
Had she walked around a lot the day before?
Had she run?
Maggie raked a hand through her hair and blew out a sigh. She’d always loved puzzles. Mysteries had to be solved. Questions had to be answered. That was all she’d ever wanted to do when she was little. Find the truth that people—bad people—tried to hide.
But now that the new mystery involved her?
She hadn’t asked to lose a day’s worth of memory. And well, she didn’t like the feeling.
Just as Matt hadn’t asked to lose his wife. Or have Maggie start her own investigation during what must have been the worst low of his life like some dog after a bone.
Again she sighed.
“You in here?”
Maggie straightened as the detective called into her room. One last look at her reflection and she nodded.
“Yeah,” she answered, walking out to meet him in the hall. His eyes were wide. Something had happened. “Was that the sheriff?”
“No, Detective Ansler. But we do have some new information.”
Again, Maggie searched his expression. It was troubled. The cold knot that had formed in her stomach earlier started to expand.
“And I’m guessing it’s not the answers to all of our questions.”
Matt shook his head.
“CSU reported in,” he started. “Your prints and Dwayne’s were found on the bat. A partial print was found on the inside of the screen door near the handle. And that’s it.”
Maggie felt her eyebrow rise.
“What do you mean that’s it?”
“I mean those are the only prints in the entire house.”
Her eyes widened.
“And that’s not normal.”
Matt shook his head. Again, he didn’t like what he was saying.
“No, that’s not normal for a lived-in residence,” he replied. “Unless Dwayne has a serious case of OCD, that house should have been covered in his prints at the very least. Which means one of three possibilities.”
Maggie held up her index finger, much like the sheriff had done earlier in the hospital.
“One, that Dwayne wiped down the entire place after he was beaten into unconsciousness.” Maggie held up another finger. “Two, I wiped the place down before I did my own unconscious dance.”
Matt held up his finger in lieu of her ticking off her third.
“Three, whoever attacked both of you wiped the place down, erasing any evidence linking him or her to the house. And to you and Dwayne.”
That cold in the pit of Maggie’s stomach was starting to unravel to the point of becoming flat. She had no sarcasm or joke to replace it. There was no denying she was caught in the middle of something.
And she needed to figure out what that something was fast.
Maggie gave the detective one decisive nod. He must have seen the intent in her eyes. Ever so slightly he tilted his head to the side. The human way to silently question something that was a mystery.
Under different circumstances, she would have liked to have been a mystery that the handsome Detective Matt Walker tried to solve, but now she was afraid the question mark she had been branded with was dangerous.
“Okay, then we only have one option.” She brushed past the man and headed for the living room. He followed her, his stare burrowing a hole in every step she took. He kept quiet as she grabbed her purse and dumped its contents on the floor next to the couch. “Let’s figure out what I did yesterday.”
His eyes didn’t leave hers for a moment. Then he nodded.
“I agree. I also want to call in CSU to dust for prints here. They’re still working on the partial, but considering how quickly you appear to have left yesterday, maybe if you did have company, we can at least find out who it was.”
“Good idea.”
Maggie was still trying to ignore how freaked out it made her feel to know someone or something had spooked her enough to run from her own home. Her eyes started to skirt over the various pieces of her life that had made up the inside of her purse when she realized Matt wasn’t moving.
Maggie looked up and met his eyes.
Trying to solve another mystery.
But not one that had to do with her.
“After I make this call you’re going to answer a few questions before we do anything else.” His voice was cold. She could almost swear she felt its chill from where she sat on the floor. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook this time. She’d run out of wiggle room.
“Sounds fair.”
Matt pulled out his phone but kept his eyes on her when he spoke again.
“And we’ll start with why you think my wife was murdered.”
Chapter Six (#u8fa25e4c-ec79-5818-8fd1-6c1d0da32fbf)
Erin Walker had been walking out of a three-story parking garage when the truck popped the curb and hit her. She was a tall woman and her height was the only reason she went over the top of the truck instead of under it. Though that stroke of luck wasn’t enough to save her. She was gone before she hit the ground.
Maggie had been working for the Kipsy City Chronicle at the time. She’d been gunning for the news editor position that was about to open up when she heard the accident over the police scanner. Wanting to get the scoop before another reporter who’d shown interest in the promotion did, Maggie had grabbed a notepad and pen and drove like a bat out of hell to get to the parking garage. The drive hadn’t been a long one. She arrived before any patrol officers, just after the EMTs.
That was when she saw Erin for the first time. From a distance she looked like she was sleeping. Like she’d decided, instead of going wherever it was she had started to go, that she’d lie down on the side of the street, wrapped up in her long blue coat and ready to fall asleep beneath the stars. Then the rest of the details had begun to filter in. Erin hadn’t been the only hapless victim. An older man who’d had the misfortune of being on the side of the road next to the opening of the parking garage had also been struck. He, however, was surrounded by EMTs. His name was Lowry Williams. He survived for two days before he succumbed to his injuries. According to everything she discovered, he was a good man.
And also the reason Maggie didn’t let go of what happened.
“Lowry Williams passed away before he was able to talk to anyone other than the emergency responders and hospital staff,” Maggie started. She really didn’t need to remind Matt about that. The detective might not have believed her back then or even now, but he’d done his due diligence and learned every angle of what had happened. Or so he thought. “Except that he did talk to someone. Me. Lowry didn’t have any family so I pretended to be a friend. I’m not proud of the lies I had to tell to convince a nurse to let me see him but it worked. He let me slip in to see him before he was wheeled out to surgery. It was the last time Lowry was conscious. Afterward the nurse realized I was a reporter and, to cover his hide, told me to leave. I imagine he never mentioned me to anyone else to, again, save his hide.”
Matt’s expression was blank.
“And what did Lowry say?” he asked, voice void of any notable emotion.
“He was in a lot of pain,” she reminded him. “He spoke in broken thoughts and I can’t even be sure my questions were understood by him. But there was something he said twice that stuck with me after I asked what happened. ‘She waved at him.’”
Matt’s body shifted. He dropped his hands to the top of his belt.
“She waved at him,” he repeated. “Who waved?”
“He was in so much pain but I assumed he meant Erin.” Maggie wanted to look away from the detective, to give him privacy with his thoughts at the mention of his late wife, but she had to press on. She had to make her point now that he was willing to listen to her. Even if it was only because it might be dangerous not to know. “It was such an odd statement that I couldn’t let it go. I went back to the parking garage and tried to track down the security footage from either the parking garage camera or the one across the street. But the parking garage tape had already been taken by the police and the one across the street had a ticket in for repairs.” Maggie cut her gaze downward for an instant. The detective might not like her next admission. “So I decided to take a closer look into Ken Morrison to try to find a connection.” Matt’s body tensed enough that Maggie knew just saying the name of the driver who had killed Erin was dangerous. Even if Ken was no longer living.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/tyler-snell-anne/forgotten-pieces/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.