Nora Roberts Land (19 page)

“This isn’t your usual time.”

He shrugged. “I heard you were working tonight. Thought I’d see how you were holding up.”

“Well, I’m standing.” She spread her hands, silver bracelets clanging together. “I needed to come back to work. Can’t let the business fail. Jemma would have hated that. How about a decaf?”

“What do you recommend?”

“Ladies’ choice.”

She shook her head when he dug out his wallet. “No, it’s on the house today.”

“Why?”

“For small kindnesses.”

He put the money away as she brewed his coffee. When she presented it with flourish, he bowed at the waist.

“Kenya’s finest.”

He traced the rim. “I’ve always liked Kenyan coffee, so you chose well. I’ll see you around, Jill.”

“Tanner?”

“Yes?”

“Mere told me about your friend…in high school.”

No one was behind him so he set his coffee down.

“How do you get over it?” She put a hand to the vulnerable line of her neck.

He tilted his head back and studied the neon green ceiling before meeting her gaze. “It takes a long time, and it never fully goes away.” Hadn’t he thought about it when he was speeding on Halloween? “Try not to beat yourself up. Things just happen.” He rubbed the scar near his mouth. “I still don’t know why. Try to stop asking why. It helps.”

“Thanks.”

“Take care of yourself, Jill.”

“You too, Tanner.”

He didn’t speed on the drive home. Shane wouldn’t have approved. He’d been speeding that fateful day in his new car. He’d barreled through a stop sign, dare-deviling his way across the highway. How they could have missed that pick-up truck was something he’d wonder for the rest of his life.

His driveway was quiet as a cemetery when he left the car. He was halfway to the door when he heard the unmistakable sound of branches snapping underfoot and leaves rustling. He froze, instantly alert.

It was too dark to see, so he strode to the porch, straining to hear. Perhaps it was that lone dog he kept seeing around his house. He refused to feed it, because then it would stay.

And Tanner wasn’t staying in Dare.

“Professor McBride?” a male voice called out from his left.

He narrowed his eyes in the darkness. More branches broke, leaves crunching as the man approached him. When he stepped on the driveway, the gravel ground under his feet with a sound like marbles rubbing together.

“Who is it?” He edged behind one of the beams on the porch. He didn’t expect problems, but he’d learned to be cautious.

The man came closer, his gait discernable in the darkness. “It’s Ray Pollack.”

A student? “Long way to come for a conference, son.”

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry, but I couldn’t approach you in public.”

Tanner’s muscles tightened. There was danger in that statement. He could almost smell the cold sweat on the kid.

“Why not?”

Ray cleared his throat. “Because I know how Jemma died.”

“That’s old news. She had a heart murmur.”

The face lifted, stark white under the crescent moon emerging from behind a cloud. “No, sir. That’s not the cause.”

Adrenaline spiked. “Then what was?”

“I think I killed her.”

Chapter 21

W
hy don’t you tell me about it while I make us some coffee?” Tanner said after he’d convinced the kid to come inside.

Ray shifted on his feet like a rabbit ready to run, his boots squeaking on the floor.

“You’re safe here.” He set the coffee to brew. “Let’s sit down.”

“I need you to promise you’ll treat me like a confidential source.”

Tanner folded his arms across his chest. So the kid
had
listened in class. “Sit down, Ray.” When he complied, Tanner continued. “You know how this works. You need to give me something first.”

“You don’t understand. These are really bad dudes.” Ray’s breath grew choppy. “And I can’t go to jail. I just can’t.”

“Ray, listen to me. You need to calm down.”

When the coffee maker coughed its last breath, he stood, poured a cup for each of them, and sat down again. Of all the things he’d imagined happening in Dare, this wasn’t one of them.

“Talk to me, son.”

The kid’s hands shook when he gripped the cup. He winced when he took a sip—the coffee must have scalded him—but he kept drinking it. Tanner waited him out, studying the dark circles under his blood-shot hazel eyes. Ray’s skin had a light gray pallor to it, and his face was a bit hollower around the cheekbones than normal. His clothes—a brown sweater and jeans—looked like they’d been slept in. He’d missed a few classes since Jemma’s death.

“I’m the college’s main supplier of marijuana.”

Tanner couldn’t have been more surprised. He hated to stereotype, but Ray was not drug dealer material. He was an A student with a round face, big eyes, and a weak chin.

“How’d you get into this?”

“I…ah…had trouble paying for some major car repairs my first semester. One of the guys in the garage took me aside and asked if I wanted to make some quick money. It seemed harmless.”

Always did,
Tanner thought.

He coughed and took another sip. “I mean, it’s
marijuana
—not heroin or cocaine or meth. And the money is good. I’m pre-law, so I’m saving for law school.”

The steam off Tanner’s coffee trailed into the air like smoke, but he didn’t touch it. The cup was a prop of normality. The human race always drank when they discussed important stuff, be it coffee, tea, or alcohol. He’d seen it in every country he’d ever visited—perhaps drinking somehow made every conversation seem more civilized.

“How does this relate to Jemma?”

“She smoked some of the marijuana I sold at the party.”

Tanner studied Ray. He’d been lied to by the best of them, but he’d grown good at reading body language. Tanner wanted to sigh. The kid believed what he was saying. It was time to push a little harder.

“Okay, so why don’t you tell me how smoking marijuana ended up killing her?”

Worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, Ray reached for his cup again. “Have I given you enough to be your source?”

“Yes, you have. Now tell me the rest.”

“I think my supplier’s been adding something into the stash. It’s not like the old stuff. People are asking for more hash a hell of a lot faster than usual. They’re not waiting for the weekend any more to get high. And some people have gotten sick at parties. Puking, passing out. Some have even gone to the ER. I told my guy about it, but he grabbed me by my shirt and told me to keep my mouth shut. I was like, what the fuck? Scared the shit out of me.”

“Keep going.”

“I kept hoping nothing was wrong. I didn’t want anything to be wrong. I even asked my dealer again, and he flipped. Like bat-shit-crazy flipped. He told me it was just binge drinking that was getting people sick, and I believed him. Until Jemma. Now I’m convinced that they’re lacing it.”

Tanner leaned forward. If that was the case, the autopsy report should have found drugs in her system. But there hadn’t been a word about any illegal substances in the newspaper article he’d read.

“What about Jemma’s heart murmur?”

“I don’t know, but I think someone’s covering something up. That’s why you have to find out what really happened.” He tapped his fingers on the table like a cigarette smoker on day four of quitting. “I think someone on the police force is involved.”

“That’s quite a claim.”

“Well, why else would they say Jemma only died from a heart murmur? Wouldn’t the autopsy have picked up the pot in her system?”

“Yes, it should have.”

“Plus, they didn’t really interview anyone. I’ve asked around. That Deputy Barlow showed up after they called for the ambulance. Someone must have ratted me out, and nobody’s talked to me. I’ve been freaking out for days, waiting.”

“You have a point.” The more the kid talked, the more his gut twitched.

“And there were drugs left at the party. I couldn’t find everything before I left, but the police didn’t raise any fuss.”

Odd. “I see,” he said to encourage him to continue.

“I want you to find out what’s going on.” His eyes teared up. “I can’t stand it! I never would have sold this stuff if I knew it would hurt anyone. But they aren’t going to let me out now. I’m fucking scared, man.”

Tanner wanted to sigh. Nothing was free, and this kid was finally realizing it. God, he was tired of seeing people fuck up their lives. Actions had consequences. Why didn’t anyone understand that?

“Do you believe me?” Ray wiped his nose with his sleeve.

“Yes, I believe you didn’t want her to get hurt.”

“So, you’ll figure out what’s going on? I have some drugs I can give you later.”

Tanner steepled his hands. “Okay. Tell me about your supplier. How do you get the drugs?”

“You promise not to involve me if I tell you?”

“You’re already involved, but for now, this is off the record. I’ll only name you if you agree.”

The kid’s eyes bugged out. “What do you mean? I don’t want anyone to know! They’ll hurt me. I’m not going to keep selling after this. I’m out.”

Tanner desperately wanted to reach for his coffee, but he kept still and thought things through. “Well, if we do figure out what happened, and you want the people who did this to pay, you might need to go on the record to have them arrested. Testify in court. I’m not an expert, but a good lawyer could ask for immunity or a reduced charge.”

Ray covered his face with his hands. “That would ruin my chance at law school. Fucking A.”

Maybe he was feeling the wings of being a teacher, but he put a hand on Ray’s arm. “It’s good that you feel bad, son. What’s happened is fucking awful. Yes, this may ruin your chances at law school, but taking a stand and accepting responsibility for your actions may prevent you from hurting anyone else or ruining the rest of your life. Jemma doesn’t have that chance.”

Ray’s lip trembled, but after a moment he nodded. “I never thought anyone would get hurt,” he whispered. “I just wanted to make some extra money for school.”

Tanner took his arm away. “Well, it sucks you have to learn this way, but coming forward is a good start.”

“So you think you can get them?”

“I’ll look into it. I owe it to Jemma—and to you.” He tilted his head to the side. “Now, tell me everything else you know.”

***

Tanner sipped his scotch and studied his notepad. He had a good outline going of the first time Ray had noticed some additional “symptoms” from the marijuana. He had the name of the kid’s supplier, Kenny Hopkins, a mechanic at Dare Auto Care. The guy sounded like a serious bruiser. The kid didn’t know much more beyond that. Nor did he have a clue which official might be working with Kenny.

After fishing the article on Jemma’s death in
The Independent
out of the recycling bin, Tanner had confirmed that it only mentioned her heart murmur and alcohol. The source? The autopsy report. He scribbled the word marijuana on the paper, circling it. Hadn’t Meredith told him that Jemma had smoked pot that night? Ray had his gut twisting in the wind. The facts didn’t add up. That’s where his job started.

His cell rang. Great. Sommerville. “Yes?”

“About time you picked up. Ducking my calls wasn’t part of our deal.”

“It’s been a little busy. A young woman died unexpectedly. She was a friend of the Hales,” he added to get the guy off his back.

“I heard. Tragic. She was a pretty girl in the flower of her youth.”

Flower of her youth? Is that the kind of hyperbolic bullshit that appealed to Meredith?

“Still, I’ve wanted greater progress with Meredith. Your time is almost up.”

“I told you we had a date the other night.” He wasn’t about to admit they’d reached another impasse.

“One date after two months? That’s not going to do it, McBride. I told you to move fast.”

He slapped the couch. “Dammit, I moved on her like a john on a hooker. She had a panic attack. What the fuck did you expect me to do? I had to back off.”

“You’re supposed to get results. I don’t fucking care how you do it! You’re delaying, and I don’t like it. You aren’t going to find a way out of this, McBride. I have you locked up tight. And just to prove I won’t hesitate, I’m going to show you what I can do.”

Tanner unzipped his fleece, raging hot. Did blood actually boil? “What do you mean?”

A menacing chuckle echoed on the line. “You’ll see. Don’t fuck with me, McBride. You’d better get Meredith to stop dating other men and start dating you. I want that article stopped!”

Tanner surged off the couch and paced like a panther. “How the fuck do you know what she’s up to? I told you not to watch her.”

“I’m not watching her directly. Jill keeps me well informed. She can’t say enough about her big sister’s search for true love.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Jill’s Facebook page. She’s written dozens of amusing snippets about Meredith’s hunt for Mr. Right. As far as I can tell, she’s dubbed you the Lost Chippendale.”

“Jesus!” A Facebook FUBAR.

“She says Meredith is resisting you pretty hard and going out with everyone else in town but you. She thinks Mere’s making a mistake, but a fact’s a fact.”

The window was cold when Tanner pressed his forehead to it. What a goddamn mess.

“Meredith’s only resisting me so hard because she’s afraid of where it will go. She’s into me.” His breath fogged the window. “This groundwork is critical. And I’ve been very supportive of her and Jill through Jemma’s death. It’ll pay off soon.”

Christ, was he really saying these things? It was true, it was all true, but he wasn’t doing it for this prick.

“Well, it better. But you’ll know soon that I don’t make idle threats. Let’s call this a little incentive to work harder.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’ve studied you enough to know that you’re looking for a way out. There isn’t one. You need to do your job.”

Tanner heard the guy gulp something, probably booze. His gaze tracked to the legal pad on the couch. A light bulb went off.

“She’ll be spending lots of time with me starting this week. I promise you.”