Authors: Susan Page Davis
He inched over next to her. “Come here.”
She went slowly, but willingly, into his arms and laid her head on his shoulder. Dan let out a deep sigh.
“You should have gone back to court within sixty days,” he murmured.
“My lawyer waived the time limits. He thinks that unless he comes up with some new evidence to help me, going back to trial soon would work against me.”
“And nothing new has turned up?”
“So far as I know. This waiting is horrible. I’m starting to wish I could just get it over with.”
“I’m so sorry, Laurel. If I could have been there—”
“You didn’t know I existed,” she whispered.
“But if I had, you wouldn’t have been alone. I’d have done everything possible to comfort you.”
“Could you have gotten rid of Renee?”
He was still for a moment, then he inhaled deeply. “What did she do to you?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s not true. You’re scared of her.”
“She…made me order things for her. She didn’t have any money, so whenever my lawyer put cash in my account, she made me order treats and give them to her.”
“She threatened you.”
“Well, sure.”
“Did she hurt you?”
“Not really. She…slapped me few times. After that, I did what she told me and kept out of her way. And she kept other women from bothering me.”
He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “Laurel, you’ve been through so much. If I’d been part of your life back then, I’d probably have hired you a better lawyer.”
His tender tone brought tears to her eyes. “Jim did all right. I guess.”
“How can you say that? You almost got put away for life.”
“I still could.”
He held her tighter. “How did you survive with no one there to keep reminding you they loved you?”
She rested against his chest for a minute, soaking up the feel of him and the smell of him. “I prayed a lot.” She lifted her head and peered at him intently. “You’re the first person who’s touched me since the murder—in a friendly way, I mean. The first person who really cared.”
He pulled her back down against his shoulder. “You stay there as long as you want.” He stroked her hair. “I read Renee’s record. She was in for assault.”
“Yeah. I didn’t dare cross her. She got in trouble a few times for fighting. But it could have been worse for me, a lot worse.”
“And the guards?”
“The female guards had to be tough. The men—well, I didn’t have much contact with them.”
They sat in silence, and Laurel went over the events in her mind. Bob’s death, the investigation, her arrest and the agonizing wait of sixteen months before the trial.
She didn’t want to think about the jail now, and the pain that went with it. She wanted to think about a bright future, perhaps one that would include Dan. He held her close, and she was comfortable in his arms. His soft breathing filled her with contentment, and she rested against him, deliciously warm.
There was one loose end that bothered her, and she sat up. “You never asked me.”
“Asked you what?”
“If I did it.”
“Ah, Laurel, why would I need to ask you that?” He tightened his arms around her.
She exhaled, feeling some of the weight lifted from her. “Pray for me, Danny.”
“Of course.”
“You ought to leave now.”
“You’re right.” He stood up slowly. “I’ll call later.”
Knowing he would keep that simple promise encouraged her. She wasn’t alone now.
W
orking in the empty office Monday night brought Laurel’s anxiety to the forefront. After thirty nerve-racking minutes, she shoved the desk and chair around until she could see the doorway. Still, being alone in the large, open room with its bulky furniture and files casting deep shadows kept her on edge.
It was a relief when Troy came to check on things.
“I don’t suppose you could come back in an hour and walk me to my car?”
Troy grinned. “My pleasure, Laurel.”
Quickly she sought to erase any notion the security guard might have that she hoped to start a friendship.
“It’s a little creepy out there.”
He nodded. “Yeah, and now that the weather’s warmer, the weirdos hang around later.”
Laurel gritted her teeth and turned back to the monitor. “Thanks. I’ll be ready around one o’clock.”
When he came to escort her, she felt a little silly. But Dan’s warnings simmered in the back of her mind, and she knew she shouldn’t take chances. After all, her car had been burglarized right here in the parking lot.
“Beautiful night,” Troy said as they climbed the concrete steps.
“Yes.” She looked anxiously ahead, to where Judy’s car was parked under a streetlight. She hoped nothing had happened to it. She hadn’t wanted to drive it, but Judy insisted since the burglars knew her car. Dan had taken the Toyota to an undisclosed location. Best if she didn’t know where, he’d said. A dealer would sell it without her ever seeing the middleman. If things went well, no one would recognize the name on the title, Laurel Wilson, and she would soon have enough money to buy another vehicle.
“Whoa, nice car.” Troy appreciatively cased Judy’s silver Lexus.
Laurel almost said, “Oh, it’s not mine,” but she bit that back. “Thanks.”
It occurred to her that she stood out in Troy’s mind for several reasons. If someone came around the hospital asking about her, Troy was an untapped source of information. Should she sound him out and ask him not to betray her? That in itself might be dangerous.
She unlocked the door, and Troy reached for the handle. “How come you need to work part-time nights, if you drive a car like this?”
She smiled at him. “Some folks spend it all on food and rent.”
“Yeah, I get you. But you’re not saying you live in a dump, are you? So you can have this car, I mean.”
Laurel got into the driver’s seat. “No, the place I’m staying in right now is not a dump. I’ll see you, Troy.”
“Hey.” He caught the edge of the door before she could swing it shut. “What do you say we go out sometime? Saturday night?”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but no. And thank you for walking me out here.”
He stood watching her as she backed out of the parking slot.
The bumble factor,
Laurel thought.
He could give me away so easily. I can’t him give any personal information. And warning him would only make him more curious
. Oh, yes, Troy would be fascinated by a mystery woman. She renewed her silent prayers for safety.
Dan watched the front windows of the house as he drove up Judy’s driveway. He saw a flicker of movement at one. As his pickup eased toward the closed garage, the door began to rise. He drove in. Laurel stood in the doorway to the enclosed breezeway, and she lowered the overhead door as soon as his back bumper cleared it.
“Hi.” He rounded the front of the pickup toward her. “I’ve got your stuff.”
“Judy’s not home,” Laurel said. “She told me to have you park inside if you came.”
He nodded. “Are you going crazy cooped up in there?”
“Not yet.” She smiled. “I asked Judy if it would be safe to walk out back, and she said only if I had a big, brawny policeman with me.”
“Let’s go.” Dan grinned and reached for her hand.
Laurel led him into the breezeway and out the patio door to the backyard. She locked the door, and in seconds they entered a leafy path that penetrated the patch of woods behind the house.
“Judy says this trail comes out behind a development. It’s a green space, whatever that is.”
“Gives the homeowners space and privacy, I guess. I’ll unload your computer when we go back.”
Dan wondered how far he could stretch his lunch hour and decided he’d better not waste time. He held back an aggressive maple branch for Laurel, and she ducked under it, smiling up at him with a trace of shyness.
“Thanks for coming.”
“I should have come last night,” he replied.
“No, you can’t wear yourself out.”
He stopped walking, and she did, too. When he looked down at her, he knew he hadn’t been wrong. He felt certain about his feelings for her and his desire to help her. It wasn’t just her beauty. He admired her strength and determination, despite her apparent fragility. He wanted to kiss her, but her brown eyes were shadowed with fatigue, and he reminded himself of their quest and his responsibility.
Not yet,
he told himself.
“I was a little uneasy last night,” she confessed. “Judy didn’t get home until late. One of her patients had an emergency.”
“Did you get to work on time?”
“Yeah. Barely.”
“I printed out all the stuff I could get on your case. I want more information, but I’ll have to get my lieutenant or someone higher up to authorize it.”
“Why? You already know how it turned out.”
“I need to see all the reports, the court transcripts, the witness statements, the autopsy report…everything.”
She reached toward him. “Dan, there’s nothing you can do to change the outcome now. If you’re thinking you can, you’re mistaken.”
“But the judge could send you to trial again anytime.”
She froze with her hand in midair, and he seized her fingers.
“Laurel, if that happens, I want to be ready. I don’t want any surprises. And if there’s something…Well, I don’t want to give you false hope, but I’ve seen it happen before, where they think they have the right suspect so they quit looking at anyone else. If the investigators let something go by because they thought they had the murderer—like I said, it’s happened before.”
“My lawyer begged them to look at other people.” She stared past him down the path toward where it opened on a long, narrow meadow.
“Was there anything at all that pointed to somebody else?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure they would have told me if there was.” She frowned as she looked into his eyes. “I didn’t count on this optimism.”
He laughed. “A little hope doesn’t hurt. So, you don’t mind if I ask my lieutenant to help me on this?”
“I guess not.”
He could almost read her mind. It would devastate her to believe he could help her and then be convicted of murder.
“Let’s walk.” He laced his fingers through hers and led her along the path toward the opening.
She chuckled, scuffing her sneakers on the grass. “Never thought I’d be holding hands with a cop.”
“We’re here to protect you, Laurel.”
“I know.” She shrugged. “When I was a little girl, I got the policemen-are-our-friends routine. But when I was arrested, I found out they’re only your friends if they think you’re innocent.”
He eyed her sharply. “The Hatchers weren’t your friends, either.”
“No. When I took my maiden name back, part of me was glad. It put me one degree further away from Wayne and Renata. But it seemed disloyal to Bob, and I felt like Bob needed some true loyalty.”
“As opposed to false loyalty?”
“Laugh if you want, but I couldn’t help feeling his family mourned the loss of his business sense more than anything else.”
“Your mother-in-law said you and Bob fought before the murder.” Dan watched her closely, waiting for her reaction.
“Everybody fights once in a while.”
“What did you fight over?”
“Her, mostly.”
He smiled.
“It wasn’t really fighting, but we talked a lot about how his family pulled us apart. Oh, look!” She dropped his hand suddenly and knelt by the path. She pushed back the leaves of a low-growing plant. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Jack-in-the-pulpit?”
“Yes. We have them in Maine. They’re shy, though.” The subdued colors and the perfect curve of the foliage reminded him of the drawings he had seen in her sketchbook.
He pulled her up and into his arms. “How could anyone not believe you would stop to look at wildflowers on the way home from the store?”
She exhaled in surprise. “You read that?”
“Yes. It was so like you.”
She leaned against him for just a moment, then pushed away gently, as though she was certain it would be a mistake to let his embrace become a habit.
“Ryan, 279.” She traced his badge with her fingertip. “What’s your middle name?”
An obvious ploy to change the subject, but that was all right; he would progress at her pace. “Daniel.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“It’s Michael Daniel Ryan. My father is Mike, so I’m Dan.”
He touched her hair, tracing her rippling braid. “You’re an only child?”
“Yes.”
“How long have your folks been gone?”
“Too long. My mom died when I was eleven. Breast cancer. And my dad was killed in a fire when I was twenty. I was away at college.” She shook her head. “I don’t want to think about those times now.”
“All right. Let’s head back.”
They walked along the path still holding hands. Laurel unlocked the patio door, and Dan secured it when they were inside.
“All right, Michael Daniel Ryan, Junior, you can flex your muscles and haul my computer in here while I microwave the leftovers.”
“Fine.” He chuckled. “Except I’m the fourth, not the second.”
“The fourth? Oh, dear. That brings obligations.”
They both laughed and sweet contentment flowed through him. For a while, they could forget that she was Laurel Wilson Hatcher, murder suspect. She needed an interlude of repose, a time to build trust and companionship. He wanted to give her that.
“Well, my grandpa was Dan and his father was Michael, so I guess the next generation gets saddled with Michael.” He looked steadily into her rich, brown eyes.
“I’ll try to remember which generation you are.”
He smiled. “Danny is fine.”
The color flamed in her cheeks, and he knew she remembered calling him Danny when she asked him to pray for her while he held her close. “I was a bit overwhelmed Sunday, I think.”
“That’s all right. When you’re overwhelmed, you call me Danny. Otherwise, Dan will do.”
Her blush deepened, and he laughed. He leaned down and brushed her cheek with a featherlight kiss, then headed for the garage.
“This woman lives in town?” Lieutenant Powers asked, scanning the printouts Dan had put in his hand when he’d returned from his lunch break.
“Yes, she’s been here almost a month, but it just came through on our updates from the state police. She’s staying with a friend on the north side of town, and she checks in with the Maine authorities once a week.”
“Why didn’t they notify us?”
“They did,” Dan said. “We have it on file. And she has to report in person to the state police once a month. But she’s not likely to commit a crime.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
Powers’s eyes narrowed. “This is personal.”
“Well, yes.”
The lieutenant shook his head. “I don’t like it, Ryan.”
“What don’t you like?”
“You getting mixed up in this.”
“She’s innocent,” Dan insisted.
“That’s what they all say.”
“No, this is for real. She didn’t do it.”
“You have proof?” Powers asked.
“I wish. But I don’t need proof to know it’s true.”
Powers sighed. “Big mistake, Ryan.”
“I don’t think so. Will you authorize some extra research for me?”
“What if I won’t?”
“I’ll ask the captain, and if he won’t, I’ll go to the chief.”
“Stubborn, aren’t you?”
“It’s me Irish blood.”
Powers snorted. “I want a report on my desk every day. I want to know what you’re doing about this. Don’t hold anything back.”
“It’s not an official case,” Dan protested. “I just want to look it over, see if they missed anything.”
“If you’re looking at it, it’s my business. I can be stubborn, too, laddie.”
The files were so thick by five o’clock Wednesday that Dan put them into the soft briefcase he used to carry papers to the courthouse. He drove straight to Judy’s house in the pouring rain.
Laurel greeted him with a smile. “Judy will be home soon.”
Dan nodded. Regardless of her rap sheet and her four-year marriage, she possessed an innocence that tugged at him. “I brought everything. I hope it’s not too intimidating.” He set the briefcase on the coffee table.