Hidden in the Shadows (19 page)

“Julie and I couldn’t have children, and over the years, I’ve ‘collected’ young people who mean a lot to me, like Ethan and Jason. And Stacy. I don’t want to let them down, and I certainly don’t want to see them hurt. Ethan? That boy’s like a son to me, Maria. If I could get my hands around the neck of the bastard who’s doing this…” He was so angry he couldn’t continue.

She stopped him, moving to stand in front of him. “You are not responsible for this, Wyatt Dixon. You have to stop blaming yourself. No one else does.”

He tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket and stared at her. “It isn’t that simple.”

Her smile was winsome. “I know, but you have to try. We’ll figure this thing out. Now, how about a different subject?”

Wyatt groaned and pulled her into his arms. “I’m being a bear, aren’t I?”

“You’re entitled. I just don’t want to see you get lost in worrying about it.”

Coaxed into a better mood despite himself, he kissed her. After several long, breathless minutes, she pulled back and resumed walking, her arm linked with his.

“So did you want kids?” she asked.

“Yeah, I did. I always thought I’d have a houseful, but it didn’t turn out that way. What about you?”

She shrugged. “When I was younger, no. I didn’t think I’d ever want kids, especially not after the way I grew up. My relationship with my mother kind of soured me on the whole thing. But the last few years, especially after Georgia had Cody, I… I don’t know. I think I’d love being a mother.” Her laugh was self-deprecating. “Whether I’d be a good mother or not, well, that’s up for debate.”

Wyatt stopped her. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d be an excellent mother.”

“I… it’s worth a lot,” she stammered.

The unspoken question of whether she would consider having
his
children or not seemed to hover in the air between them, and for several seconds, they just stared at each other in the deepening twilight. A rustling sound in the field next to where they were walking broke the tension, and they turned to watch a deer dart off into the underbrush.

“We’d better head back to the house,” Wyatt said. “It’s going to be too cold to stay out her much longer.”

For the rest of the evening, he managed to focus his mind away from the extortionist. When he took Maria home late Sunday night, he hadn’t wanted to leave, but understood she wasn’t ready to take their relationship into true intimacy so soon.

After he left her condo, he drove around for over an hour, just looking at the county he’d sworn to serve and protect years ago. The thought that he might lose everything he’d worked for because of the selfishness of his late wife was infuriating, and sobering. He knew she wasn’t solely to blame, that he had played a part, but the realization that Julie might have vengeance from beyond the grave, finally taking away the job she’d hated with so much passion, didn’t endear her memory to him.

Determined not to let her win, especially at the hands of a vicious extortionist, he’d gone into the office Monday morning, resolving to get to the bottom of the harassment. He had a full schedule, meetings throughout the morning and early afternoon. Thinking about something Maria had said, he got up and went to Gretchen’s desk. “Can you get in touch with Jason Hudson and have him meet me this afternoon at the Brown Bag? I should be finished with the county commissioners by three or so. He’s helping Maria with something this morning.”

She gave a little salute. “Will do, Sheriff.”

“Thanks.” He’d no sooner turned to go back into his office than the phone rang and Gretchen stopped him.

“It’s Neva. She says it’s important.”

Taking the receiver, he glanced at the clock. He had seven minutes before his meeting with the jailer started. “What’s going on, Neva?”

“There is a
gentleman
here who is hell-bound determined to speak to you, Wyatt.”

He frowned. Neva was nearly unflappable, having ridden the front desk in the department for nearly forty years. For her to be so sarcastic, he knew something was wrong.

“Who is it?”

“Doug Whitaker. Corrine’s boy.”

The image of the pimple-faced, surly teenager he’d clashed with well over twenty years ago popped into his mind, and he bit back an oath. “I’ll be right down.” Handing the phone back to Gretchen, he said, “Hopefully, I’ll be back before nine, but can you call Dewey and let him know that I might be held up a few minutes? Just in case?”

That taken care of, he took the stairs to the first floor and made his way to the front office, where a balding, slightly pudgy man sat, impatiently waiting. When Wyatt walked in from the bullpen, he jumped to his feet and adjusted the glasses that had slid down his nose.

“Sheriff, I need to talk to you. As a tax-paying citizen of this county, I do not appreciate the difficulties I have endured these past minutes, attempting to get this… this
woman
…” He pointed at Neva. “…to call you down here.”

Neva harrumphed and rolled her eyes.

Wyatt sent her a quelling look, then turned back to the irate man. “Mr. Whitaker, I’ll be glad to speak with you for a few minutes. What can I help you with?”

With another pointed look at Neva, Whitaker sneered. The move pinched the man’s mouth, and Wyatt couldn’t help but think of someone who’d sucked on a particularly sour lemon. He smoothed a hand over his own mouth to hide his amusement as the other man spoke.

“It is of a highly sensitive and personal nature. I would appreciate it if we could go somewhere less public to discuss the matter.”

Cursing to himself, Wyatt realized it probably wasn’t going to be a short visit. “Of course. We’ll use one of the conference rooms. If you’ll follow me?” He led the man down the hall to the smallest conference room. Once Whitaker had sat down, he closed the door and joined him at the table.

“Now, why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

The last thing Wyatt expected was for the fussy man to pull a white envelope out of the pocket of his coat. With precise movements, Whitaker slid the missive across the table.

“I received that vile and insulting thing this morning. Go ahead, open it,” he said when Wyatt hesitated.

His senses humming, Wyatt used an ink pen to slide the letter out of its envelope. He managed, just barely, to hold his temper in check as he read its contents. As he’d feared, the envelope indeed contained another extortion letter. It accused Whitaker of embezzling money from his clients.

“What is it that you do, Doug?”

The man’s face grew even more pinched, as though he was affronted that Wyatt had even had to ask. “I’m a forensic accountant, Sheriff. I get called in to perform internal audits when companies need to get their books in order.”

Wyatt sat back in his chair, studying the other man. “How long have you been back in Leroy? I thought you were still in Florida with your mother.”

“I’ve been back just over a year now. What does that have to do with this letter?”

“It helps establish a history.” Pushing his chair back, Wyatt stood. “I need to excuse myself for a minute and call in one of my detectives. Can I get you something? Water, coffee?”

Whitaker unbent enough to nod. “Coffee would be acceptable. Three sugars, not two and not four. No artificial creamer, either. Fresh cream.”

It took Wyatt a few seconds to find an answer that wouldn’t result in a complaint being filed against him. “I’ll see what I can do.” Excusing himself, he left the room, closing the door behind him with a little more force than was necessary.

With annoyed strides, he headed into the bullpen and looked around, hands on hips. Spying Ethan at the coffeepot, he took a deep breath and moved to stand beside the younger man, who was watching a new pot brew. When the detective looked up at his approach, Wyatt was surprised to see a scowl on his face.

“Ethan?”

“I’ve not had a decent cup of coffee in over a week. I thought Beth was the caffeine addict. Apparently, I was mistaken.”

Despite the fact that they had another letter, Wyatt felt his lips twitch. His humor was short-lived, however. “Well, I’m afraid I’m about to make your day a little worse. We’ve got another one. Doug Whitaker is in conference room A,” he said as Ethan poured a mug of the fresh brew. Edging him aside, Wyatt filled a disposable cup with coffee and, with deliberation, grabbed four packets of sugar. “I want you to handle this. I know you have a lot on your plate right now.”

Ethan shrugged. “It is what it is. You seem agitated, though. Everything okay, obvious situation aside?”

Glancing around to make sure they weren’t overheard, Wyatt confessed, “I don’t like Whitaker. I know I’m supposed to present a fair and balanced demeanor, but he was an annoying little punk when he was a kid. We clashed quite seriously when he was a teenager. I’ve never been his favorite person, and from what I’ve seen, he hasn’t improved with age. And if you dare tell anyone I said that, I’ll put you on latrine duty.”

Ethan chuckled. “We don’t have latrine duty.”

With a fierce glower, Wyatt said, “Not yet.” When his threat had no effect, he rolled his eyes. “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

As they neared the room, Wyatt slowed. “I’ll owe you one for this. I’m in meetings, one of which I am now late for, until late afternoon. Text me if you need to, though. I’ll plan on seeing you before you leave this evening to discuss what you find out.” He knocked on the door to the conference room and opened it.

“Doug, this is Detective Ethan Moore.” He handed over the coffee. “He’ll be handling things from here.”

A look of pure disbelief crossed the man’s face. “You’re handing something this important off to a lackey? No, Sheriff, I demand that you see to this yourself.”

Wyatt knew better than to look at Ethan, whose shock was almost palpable. “Mr. Whitaker, while I appreciate your concerns, Detective Moore is one of the best investigators I’ve ever known, myself included. You won’t get a better person working on your case. I’d be doing you a disservice by investigating this myself. Understand?”

Without waiting to see if the man would accept his words, he clapped Ethan on the shoulder and left. If he stayed much longer, there was a good chance he would say something that would end up coming back to bite him. He almost felt guilty about leaving Ethan at Whitaker’s mercy, but not quite.

Chapter Twenty Five

His morning having gotten off to a bad start, Wyatt wasn’t surprised when the rest of his day followed suit. The luncheon with the commissioners threatened to drag on into infinity, and he managed to slip out for a few minutes to call Gretchen when he realized he was going to be late for his meeting with Jason.

“See if he minds pushing that back to four, and if you haven’t heard from me by three-thirty, call me. Get me the heck out of this meeting.”

He had mixed feelings about talking to Jason. Maria was convinced he needed to let Jason know the details of his extortion letter, and the secret behind it. Wyatt wasn’t so sure. He didn’t want to see the disappointment in the younger man’s eyes when he confessed his transgression.

With some finagling, he managed to escape the luncheon before Gretchen had to rescue him. After checking in at the office, he hurried to the Brown Bag a few minutes earlier than the appointed time. Jason was already there, and Wyatt’s heart warmed at the sight that met him when he walked in the door.

Lauren Clark, one of the café’s owners and best friend to Beth and Annie, was seated beside Jason, wearing an indulgent smile. Jason held Lauren’s infant daughter, cooing and making faces at her. When Wyatt eased into a chair beside him, Jason looked up and nodded. His attention quickly returned to the baby, who was happily kicking and cooing back at him.

Lauren smiled. “Hey, Wyatt, how are you?”

“I’m well. How are you? This young lady seems to be thriving.”

She laughed. “She is, and I’m great. I didn’t have any idea this deputy of yours was so good with babies, though. I may have found a new babysitter.”

Jason grinned. “I love babies, always have. I can hardly wait to start adding to the family.” When Lauren held out her arms, he reluctantly handed Katy to her.

She stood and gave Jason a one-armed hug. “I imagine the two of you would like some privacy. I’ll see you both later.” She headed into the kitchen.

They both watched her go. When Jason looked at him, though, his demeanor changed, becoming more guarded. “You needed to see me?”

Wyatt nodded. “You’re upset about what you found out yesterday.”

Picking up his drink, the younger man moved his shoulders in a half-shrug. “I guess.”

With an incredulous bark of laughter, Wyatt rubbed a hand over his face. “You’re pissed off, Jason. I get that. I’d like the chance to explain.”

“You don’t owe me any explanations.”

“No, but I think you deserve one, just the same. The easiest way to start is probably with this.” He pulled a copy of his letter out of his pocket and handed it across the table.