Justifiable Risk (2 page)

She nodded to the waving people and returned her attention to the street ahead. Hopefully the directions the pimple-faced gas-station attendant had given her were accurate. He’d said, “The police department’s straight ahead about two miles on Elm. You can’t miss it.” So far he’d been wrong. She drummed the steering wheel impatiently, wishing she’d had more than a double espresso for breakfast.

Eva refused to be late for her meeting with Police Chief Sam Bryant. It was too important and, besides, she had lost control over too many things in her life. This wouldn’t be one of them. She’d taken time from her job as an investigative journalist to come here and correct a terrible injustice. She would send the wrong message if she was even one minute tardy.

In spite of her anxiety, something about New Hope resonated with her. She lowered her window and breathed in the fresh fall air. Eating utensils clanked against dishes, and the low murmur of conversation wafted through her open window. The charcoal smell of burned wood mingled with the aroma of strong coffee and the sweet yeast of freshly baked pastries. A memory of home swept through her.

Her mother held a woven blue and brown basket filled with fresh bread and muffins in one hand and Eva’s tiny fingers in the other. They walked toward the beach at Lagos, carrying breakfast to her father and brothers working at the fisheries. Along the white sandy path, neighbors and friends called out greetings. She was warm, happy, and safe.

That had been the last time Eva felt a complete sense of family. Her father’s journalism career had taken off shortly afterward, and so had he. One assignment followed another until her memories of him dimmed. His brief visits made Eva want to cling to him and persuade him to stay in Portugal. But he also told wonderful stories that excited Eva and stirred her own wanderlust. Now she understood how addictive excitement and acclaim were. She had chosen the capricious lifestyle of a reporter too. Would he have understood why she had decided to put her family before her career right now, when she was so successful?

The impatient motorcyclist behind Eva tapped his horn twice. Eva was stopped at a green light staring at the New Hope Police Department with its scroll-top Ionic columns and long, wide stairs. If she hadn’t spotted the sign on the front lawn, she might have thought it was a historic antebellum home. She pulled behind the two-story structure with five minutes to spare and reached for the door handle.

As she swung the car door open, a rumble like an oversized lawn mower assaulted the air, and the motorcyclist who had screeched up behind her appeared. She barely had time to shut her door before the noisemaker skidded to a stop too close to her vehicle, rattling the entire car.

She watched from the safety of the BMW. The rider kicked down the stand on the white Harley-Davidson and swung his right leg over to dismount. Only an anatomically challenged male would wield such a loud, aggressive vehicle. Her temper sparked.

She shouldered the door wide and braced her leg against it to keep it open only inches from the resting motorcycle. Then she jumped out and prepared for her first fight of the day. “Didn’t you see me here?” She gestured to the space between their vehicles.

The rider shucked off his helmet, raking his hand through a mop of thick blond hair. “Sorry, got a little close, didn’t I?”

The simple gesture made Eva’s anger fade into something as intense but even more uncomfortable. She thought of her father’s favorite American Western,
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
. The woman who stood before her had the same wild-eyed look of unrest that Robert Redford did when he stood on a cliff before he and Paul Newman dove into a raging river. Her father had worn that type of restlessness like a cloak, and their family had been constantly in turmoil because of it.

“You lost?” The woman’s husky voice rumbled through Eva as completely as the vibrations from her Harley had.

The motorcyclist stared at her with aqua eyes the hue of the Atlantic as it washed into the Bay of Lagos. A small scar bisected her left brow and stopped close to her eye, giving her a dangerous yet vulnerable air. Her blond hair fell into place as the woman raked it again with her hand, sunlight bouncing off a silver band on her left ring finger. What type of person would take on this roguish specimen?

Eva returned to the woman’s question about being lost, scanning her feelings and recent behavior. If she answered honestly, she would have to say, “Very.” Instead, she said, “I’m here for a meeting.”

“Okay, then, gotta go.”

Before the woman turned, her shameless gaze roamed over Eva’s body once again like that of a hungry animal. The look left Eva disturbed. The rider’s lips parted slightly into what Eva interpreted as a smirk. Reckless
and
rude. Pivoting on her calf-length riding boots, the woman sprinted toward the building with the same energy Eva imagined must accompany her every breath. Eva wanted to absorb some of that essence to recharge her own dwindling reserves. She needed to feel grounded but vibrant again.

As the woman retreated, her long, lean legs were outlined by clinging, threadbare jeans. When she took off her tattered leather jacket and whipped it over her shoulder, her back muscles appeared firm under her body-hugging T-shirt. Eva caught a whiff of soap and water without fragrance. Reckless, rude, and
attractive
,
she thought as the stranger disappeared around the corner of the building.

*

Greer rushed through the police department entrance with only two minutes until lineup. She couldn’t handle another lecture from Sergeant Fluharty about punctuality and responsibility.

“You’re late again,” Donna Burke, the chief’s secretary, stated. “You and Bessie get into it over something this morning?”

“Just behind, as usual.” Greer loved her aunt dearly, but sometimes she could be a pain to live with. Hell, sometimes the entire city of New Hope wasn’t big enough for the two of them.

Greer waved as she passed Donna’s desk. “Incoming hot chick. Looked vaguely familiar. See you.”

“So she’s attractive, huh?”

“Didn’t notice,” she answered, flashing Donna a grin. But Greer remembered the woman’s full lips and sexy dimples as she spoke. Every carefully pronounced word flowed with a hint of a foreign accent and was punctuated by hand gestures. She was a bit high-strung, the kind of woman who cultivated attention like royalty. And she’d certainly gotten Greer’s, an unusual occurrence for the past months.

“Must’ve been a looker for you to call her hot, but you wouldn’t know because you didn’t notice,” Donna teased her.

Greer looked back over her shoulder, rolled her eyes, and hurried down the hallway toward the lineup room as the front door opened again.

Eva paused in the huge entry and glanced at photos that hung against the portico’s rock walls. Plaques dedicated to officers for acts of professional excellence surrounded a picture of Chief Sam Bryant. One plaque contained the picture of the rude woman she’d encountered in the parking lot, and the engraved nameplate read
Greer Ellis
. Reckless, rude, attractive, and heroic.

“Good morning, ma’am, I’m Donna Burke. May I help you?”

“Yes, please, my name is Eva Saldana. I have an appointment with Chief Bryant.”

“Of course, he’s been expecting you. Welcome to New Hope.”

“Thank you.”

“Vaguely familiar. She wouldn’t know a celebrity if one bit her on the nose,” Donna muttered. “Sorry. One of our detectives thought you looked
familiar
. Obviously she doesn’t watch CNN or she’d know who you are, Ms. Saldana.” Without waiting for a response, she said, “The chief is on a conference call right now, but he’ll be with you in a few minutes. Could I offer you something to drink while you wait?”

“No, thank you.”

How much about Eva’s visit had the chief relayed to his secretary? Did she know the reason for their meeting this morning? If so, would she be as cordial? Donna motioned to one of the red-cushioned armchairs in front of her desk and Eva sat down.

“If you don’t mind my asking, how long will you be in New Hope, Ms. Saldana?”

Eva searched Donna’s face and found only sincerity. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Have you found a place to stay? I could recommend something.”

“I’ve made arrangements in Hurley at an extended-stay facility.”

“That’s a shame. Hurley’s a thirty-minute drive, and it’s not nearly as welcoming as New Hope. I think you’ll like our town.”

Eva relaxed a little. Why was she accepting Donna’s questions without reservation? Her voice, which had a slightly Southern accent, genuine and hospitable, helped make some of Eva’s stress about her meeting evaporate.

Donna smiled conspiratorially. “Well, if you change your mind, I might be able to help with a place much closer and cheaper. A private home with more of a personal touch.”

“You’re very kind.” Why did small-town residents try to assimilate anyone who crossed their borders? Eva thought of Lagos, grimaced, and decided she wouldn’t be staying long enough to find out.

The door to Chief Bryant’s office opened and a tall, silver-haired man strode toward her. Weather-etched skin crinkled around his eyes and mouth when he smiled. He extended his hand. “Ms. Saldana, I’m Sam Bryant. It’s a pleasure to meet you, though I’m sorry it’s under such unfortunate circumstances.” His deep voice was soft and soothing. “I was a big fan of your father’s work and of yours as well.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Chief Bryant released her hand and motioned her into his office. “We can talk inside. Donna, hold my calls, please.”

As Eva walked by, Bryant’s lanky frame loomed at least six inches above her, foreshadowing the enormity of her task. What happened here today would determine what she would be doing in the immediate future. Would she be on assignment in yet another foreign location or stay in this quaint little town? Either the police department would grant her request or she’d have her next assignment right here.

Bryant crossed to a corner fireplace, repositioned the logs with a poker, and pointed to a mahogany-colored leather chair near the heat. “Have a seat, Ms. Saldana, and we’ll get started.” Bryant pulled a matching chair alongside and joined her.

Eva began her rehearsed speech. “Chief Bryant, I’m very concerned about the investigation of my brother’s death, which was ruled an overdose. Paul was a very stable and socially connected person. He didn’t even use over-the-counter medications. He believed in natural alternatives. I believe your detectives missed something and I’m requesting that they reexamine his death. I can’t accept their conclusion. It simply isn’t possible. You don’t know Paul as I do—did.” She released a sigh at having finally said the words she had repeated over and over in her head for weeks. She couldn’t say any more. Tears burned behind her eyes but she maintained her composure.

“I’m sorry about your brother, and I understand that you have concerns. I’ve asked Sergeant Fluharty of the homicide squad to review the case to make sure we didn’t miss anything. He’s in the best position to do that.”

“Thank you. I appreciate his time and yours.”

Chief Bryant’s gaze never left Eva’s. “I not only want you to think that we did our best, but I also want you to
know
that we did. And I apologize for having to ask this, but you’re sure your brother wasn’t into recreational drug use?”

The question made her shudder. She’d asked herself that many times in the four months since his death, and the answer was always the same. Paul was the straightest arrow in their family, focused and completely above reproach, as far as she was aware. But you never truly know another human being, especially someone in your family. She couldn’t say that to the chief of police. She had to go with her gut. “My brother wouldn’t defile his body with drugs.”

Bryant silently studied her, offering, it seemed, an opportunity to reconsider her answer. “You evidently have astute investigative skills, Ms. Saldana, so we have our work cut out for us. If Sergeant Fluharty doesn’t clear things up, feel free to call.” He pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to her. “All my numbers are on there. In a small town, it’s a requirement to be available twenty-four seven.”

Something in Sam Bryant’s eyes reassured Eva that he and his staff would hear her concerns and take them seriously. “I’m willing to listen.”

“Thank you for that. Fluharty runs a tight ship. I’ll have Donna call the evidence room. Someone will bring your brother’s personal effects to you shortly.” Bryant preceded her to the door and held it open. “To the right.”

When they approached the door marked Homicide Squad, Eva stopped and drew a ragged breath. She silently promised her baby brother again that she would uncover the truth about his death. Then she promised herself that when this was over, she would settle down and have a real life. Her nomadic lifestyle didn’t satisfy her any longer, though the work defined her in so many ways. Paul’s death had proved that no one is guaranteed tomorrow.

Bryant opened the door and waved her inside.

When Eva stepped into the room with the homicide detectives, her game face slipped on and her posture tightened. This was about her loved one, not an anonymous face in some third-world country. This small group of strangers had already judged the events in the most important story of her life and she wanted to try to reverse that decision. At least she didn’t know any of these people, so it should be easier to be objective. But as she gazed at the woman holding center stage in the room, something else became clear. Greer Ellis, friend or foe, would be an issue.