Person of Interest (A Celeste Eagan Mystery) (14 page)

“Or you’ll what? Blow up my car?”

I twirled the straw around in the leftover shake. “Real funny.”

“Sorry, trying to lighten the mood.” Kellen flagged the waitress down. “But at least they can’t shove you in the suspect pool for that one.”

“What do you mean? Detective Bush all but asked me to confess.”

The smile slid from Kellen’s face. “They pulled some guy in for questioning this morning. Last I heard, he hadn’t lawyered up but was keeping mum. They didn’t tell you?”

I shook my head. “Who is he?”

“It’s in my notebook.” He shifted his gaze away while he thought. “Some guy named Jerry. Something with a P.”

Did I know a Jerry? The only one was from years before. “Pullman?”

He nodded and the glass nearly slid from my hand. “Jerry Pullman? Are you sure?”

Kellen’s eyes twinkled and he leaned forward. “That’s the name I got. How do you know him?”

“We used to have lunch together, him, Colin, and I with a few other teachers. Years ago. He worked up at the school. Taught science.” I gnawed on my bottom lip. “Are you sure it was him?”

He held his hands aloft for a moment. “How would I know his name if I hadn’t heard it?”

“I don’t get it. Why would he target me?” My palms started sweating and my brain raced to remember the last time we’d seen each other. Maybe at the faculty Christmas party three years earlier? I didn’t think I’d seen him at Chad’s funeral. Then again, I had a few other things on my mind at the time. “He and I were always friendly to one another,” I said more to myself than to Kellen.

The waitress brought the check over and Kellen handed her his credit card before she even came to a completely stop. “My treat.” He waited until she left before he asked, “Are you sure it was you he was after?”

“Are you saying it’s just a huge
coincidence
that he blew up my car at the funeral?”

“Not exactly.” Kellen scrunched up his forehead and rubbed at his ear. “Why did he leave Peytonville Prep?”

“I don’t know. They didn’t give us a reason for his termination.”

“Hmm.” He scooted his plate over and leaned into the table. “Did he have any kind of beef with your ex?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” I shook my head. “Why would he come after me? He’d get more mileage going after Naomi.” Though I didn’t wish any of this on her—believe it or not.

“How long have you been divorced?” Kellen pulled a pen out from his breast pocket and took notes on the back of the papers I’d given him.

“For about two years.”

“Did Jerry Pullman know that?

“I have no clue.” I tried to think back on the last time I’d seen the man. Not a single thing stood out that would give him any reason to come after me or Colin. “I didn’t stay in touch with him once he left the school. I don’t know about Colin.”

Kellen finished scribbling something and tucked the pen back in his pocket. “Y’all were both at the cemetery yesterday. You and your ex.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “How’d you know?”

“Celeste, it’s my job to know. Aside from the sensational story by itself, Jones’s admin gets killed shortly thereafter. Folks are going to show up to see if anything else happens.” He grabbed a couple more fries and dabbed them in ketchup. “Did you see Jerry there?”

“I don’t know. Only about half the current staff was there. Granted, I did leave a little early and was sidetracked, so maybe more came later. Actually, I don’t know if the funeral even happened after I left the cemetery.”

“It did and it was only half the staff. Minus you, Colin and his girlfriend. They left shortly after you. I didn’t realize that woman and Colin were together-together. She doesn’t really look his type.”

“And I did?” I shook my head. “Don’t answer that. Do you mind if I tell you how creepy it is how well acquainted you are with the staff at my school?” Not one but two stalkers if I counted Muldoon, three if I included Jerry Pullman and four with Chad’s killer, but I’d like to not think about him, her, whoever it was.

“What are the chances that Jerry killed Chad?” Kellen tapped the stack of papers in front of him. “It’s not without reason since Chad was the one who fired him.”

“There’s always a possibility. But as far as I know Jerry and Kelsey never crossed paths. She joined the staff after he was already gone.” I swiped my finger through the condensation on the side of the milkshake. She was tied to Chad with the growing sex scandal. What would that have to do with Jerry?

The waitress returned and Kellen stayed quiet. He took his credit card back and signed the receipt. When she walked off with a little wink and a shimmy, he didn’t even seem to notice.

Points to him for that.

“Back to the funeral, how do you know the players?”

He tucked the receipt in his wallet with his credit card. “I had a yearbook and marked people off. How do you think I knew who you were?”

“The way things have been going—” I waved my hand in the air “—I might wonder if the police put out a most wanted poster with my face on it.”

Kellen chuckled. “It’s not as bad as all that.”

“Isn’t it? What’s your take on Detective Muldoon?” Did I sound as teenyboppery intrigued to him as I did to my own ears?

Judging by the way his dimple winked, I’d guess so. “He’s a good guy. A good cop. Very by the book.” He stood and slid his chair back to the table then came around and held out his arm.

How very charming. He wasn’t kidding on the ability to get dates. Half the female population of the restaurant were all but drooling over him, the other half were batting their eyelashes. Even a couple of men perked up as we headed toward the door.

A little flutter of what-ifs palpated through my heart.

I gave a mental headshake; definitely needed to get on that dating-service thing before I did something stupid, like throw myself at Kellen. Or worse, Muldoon.

We walked out through the front door and Kellen released my arm. The evening had cooled substantially and I tucked my hands into the pouch on the front of my hoodie.

“Which car’s yours?” He dug in his pocket and grabbed a set of keys.

“None.”

His step faltered a tad. “What?”

“It’s not that far from my house.” I shrugged. “Little car, big explosion. Did you forget? I’m still without wheels.”

“That’s... Hmm, kinda far, isn’t it?”

“Maybe a mile. Not that you need it, but exercise is a good thing.” I lightly punched his arm.

“If you say so, but I’m not going to break a sweat. Unless I have great motivation.”

How did the man make everything sound naughty? “Yeah. Thanks for dinner, Kellen. Call me when you get some info?”

We stopped at his shiny new Dodge Charger. I’d seen it when he’d come by before. I guess I needed to start thinking about a replacement vehicle. The insurance company wouldn’t give me a final assessment until the police filed their report. As long as they didn’t pin it on me, I’d be okay.

I’d have to call Muldoon again and ask for an explanation on my car bombing. I’d done that far too many times as of late. And it wasn’t like he was forthcoming. He’d been over and hadn’t bothered to tell me about Jerry. How could he do that? Shouldn’t he have interviewed me to find out what was what?

“Want a ride back to your house?” Kellen broke into my mental rehashing.

I’d love to. But the thought of being confined with him any longer... A walk in the brisk evening air would do me some good. “No thanks.”

He got in his car, though he looked like he wasn’t sure if he should leave me.

“Kellen, it’s a mile. If that. It’s Peytonville. What could happen?”

Chapter Thirteen

“Forty-two cups of mocha-lattes on the wall, forty-two cups of lattes...” I yawned and shivered. I was only a few blocks away from my house and was regretting not taking Kellen up on his offer. I’d be warm in my hot pink robe and bunny slippers and I’d plop myself in front of the TV until I found the perfect movie—I’d probably end up watching
Breakfast at Tiffany’s
. I hurried up my step.

I hadn’t gone too many feet when I heard the distinctive whine of a car engine getting closer and closer. I was surprised because I hadn’t seen any headlights coming up the street in either direction. I glanced over my shoulder. The streetlights in that part of the neighborhood were all out, thanks to budget cuts and teens with rocks. Normally it wasn’t a problem. Paige and I had walked around the neighborhood many a time when she got a wild hair that we—meaning me—needed to exercise. But with the lack of lighting, I didn’t see anyone—but I could hear them.

I patted my hip pocket for my cell, then remembered it had been blown to smithereens and I hadn’t gotten a new one yet.

Crap.

I walked a little faster. Not scared, no, not me. I just wanted to get home to my TV and slippers.

Someone was probably picking up their date. Yeah, because Monday evening was the primo date night.

“Gaw.” Every wild thought ran though my head. Between Muldoon and Kellen, I was getting myself worked up into a full-blown case of paranoia.

I wanted to cut through the houses, but the way the neighborhood was laid out, the garages sat in the front of the houses, and the fences in the back touched the neighbors’ on the sides and the back. So unless I wanted to do a little parkour and dog dodging, I was going to have to keep hoofing it down the sidewalk.

When my house was one block up and one block over, I looked back and still couldn’t see anyone.

Maybe my imagination had finally taken its own adventure. “Get over yourself, Celeste.”

I stepped off the curb. Immediately headlights whipped on and shined directly on me. Like the proverbial deer in headlights, I froze midstride. Couldn’t say why, but I did. The car came right up to me and stopped. I could feel the heat rolling off the engine.

I stifled a scream when the driver’s door came open. It wasn’t until Kellen stepped out that I breathed again. “What the hell are you doing? You scared the ever-loving shit out of me.”

“You just walked away at the restaurant. Very rude.”

“Uh, no.” I took a step back. “Why are you following me? With your headlights off.”

He walked up to me, threw his arm over my shoulder in an awkward side-hug. “I’m sorry. The fight was entirely my fault.”

What?
My head spun a little. Especially when he whispered, “Get in the car.” Had he yelled or even used his normal voice I might have balked. But the whisper held an edge that made his sneaking up on me pale in scary comparison.

I slid into the passenger seat and closed the door. Kellen got in and drove off.

“You were being followed,” he said with no preamble.

“Yeah, I know, you.”

“Not me.” He adjusted his rearview mirror. “When we left Barney’s, I was stopped at the next light. I checked the mirror to make sure you were headed out and I saw someone tailing you on foot.”

I looked out the windows of the car, tried to see if anyone was on the street around us.

“I turned around but I’d lost you. I don’t know this area so I had to guess which way you might have gone.” Kellen turned on the next street, away from my street. “If I hadn’t found you when I did... I was ready to call the police.” He turned on yet another street. He was doubling back the way I’d just come.

“Why did you intervene when you did?”

“Your shadower was closing in on you.”

We both scanned the area but the streets were free of foot traffic.

“If Jerry weren’t locked up, I’d assume it was him following you.”

“I told you, he has no reason to harm me.”

“Yet he blew up your car.” Kellen shook his head. “Like I said, he’s locked up. Who else would be after you?”

I blinked and stared at him. How in the world had I set myself up to be targeted by not one but at least two people? Just last week I was a theater teacher bemoaning the fact that life had gotten a little staid and I was lacking excitement. The scariest thing I had to do was decide on changing jobs.

I’d hoped for a new hairstyle or finding a killer pair of shoes. Not a plain killer. Not double-homicide. Attempted murder—attempted on me. Lockups and interrogations. Last week the only person I’d say would harm me was Naomi Michaels.

“Celeste?”

“Sorry. I have no idea. It’s not like this is commonplace for me.”

Kellen pulled into my driveway. “Would you like me to come in and take a look around?”

I started to say yes when a dark shadow detached itself from the front porch. “I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Kellen stiffened. “I’m calling the police.”

I sighed. “He is the police. It’s Detective Muldoon.” I’d recognize those broad shoulders anywhere. Even in the dark. “Is that who was following me?”

“Uh-uh. Don’t think so.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Whoever it was, they were smaller. I couldn’t tell if they were male or female.” He glanced over at Muldoon, still hidden in the darkness of my porch, then back to me. “Would you like me to come up with you? The way you’ve been questioned...”

Did I? Did I want a reporter to hear whatever Muldoon had to say—this time? Did I need a bodyguard or go-between for Muldoon? I wasn’t ready for lies of omission or even a veiled “Did you do it?” It would be nice to have someone there on my side.

The need for privacy, though, outweighed anything else. I was afraid of what Kellen could glean and then use in his newspaper. “Thanks, but no. I think I’ll be fine.” I opened the door and started to get out. “Thanks for...well, everything. Call me when you learn anything?”

He nodded.

I walked slowly to my front porch. I don’t know why I felt like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t have. I owed Muldoon no explanations. On anything.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” I decided to go for flippant rather than irate and bitchy as I stuck my key into the lock.

Muldoon shoved his hands in his pockets. “New friend?”

“You could say that.” I opened the door a hair but didn’t go in. I turned and leaned against the doorjamb. “Did you need something, Detective? Or do you just like to skulk around suspects’ houses late at night?”

“I’m not skulking, I’m just standing.” A smile tinted his voice. “Perfectly normal.”

“In the dark?”

His shoulders rose and fell in a quick shrug. “There was no light on.” He stepped a little closer. “And I’ve never said you’re a suspect.”

“Not in so many words, but it’s there.”

Muldoon crowded closer and closer. “Celeste.”

“What, Detective?”

His breath feathered over my face as he said, “Shaw.”

“Pardon?” A chill ran down my spine.

“It’s my name.”

“I know what it is. Why’d you say it?”

“Every time you talk to me, you call me
Muldoon
or
Detective
.” He settled his hand on the doorframe and leaned in close. “I just wanted to hear you say it. Shaw.”

I was damn glad there was no light on when my cheeks heated. “I uh...” I racked my brain. What did one say to a statement like that? “Actually, I did say it. Several times in fact.”

“When?”

“Remember a little matter of my ass holding down a bomb. I believe I said it three or four times.” I could easily open the door and walk right on into my house. But some stirring deep inside me kept me rooted to the front porch.

“Under duress.” He nodded.

“Why does it mean that much to you?”

“I uh...” It was his turn to be at a loss for words. Tongue-tied. “Never mind.” His hand slid from the doorframe and he stepped back. “I came to apologize for earlier. And to thank you for the research you did.” He turned to go.

I shoved off the frame and grabbed his hand. “Don’t leave. Shaw.”

A slow smile crawled across his mouth. “See, that wasn’t so difficult.”

“I figured I’d throw you a bone since it seemed so important to you.” I winked but I doubted he could even see the small gesture.

“So.”

“So.”

He leaned in and I closed my eyes awaiting...something, then I heard an odd buzzing noise followed by wood splitting. The next thing I knew he was shoving me to the ground. Face-first.

“What the hell?” I tried to push up from the porch, but he was stronger and kept me pinned.

“Stay down,” he hissed in my ear.

I blinked rapid-fire as my head spun at the sudden change. “What’re you...”

“Someone’s shooting.”

“A gun?” Surely, I’d misheard him.

“Shh.” Moonlight glinted off his gun as he slid it from his holster.

I groped at his hand to try and stop him, but he was too quick. “Shaw, come back.”

“Shh.” He nimbly ran in the direction of the gunfire.

Another round busted a pot a few feet to my left. I scrambled backward, still prone—not an easy feat when you’re tense and scared, let me tell you—and in through the front door. Once inside the confines of the house I got to my feet—sort of—and duck-walked through the living room, then grabbed for the phone on the end table. I dialed 911 and told the dispatcher what was what.

“Ma’am, stay on the line.”

“I need to go see if Muldoon is okay.”

“Ma’am, he’s a trained police officer.”

For a moment I stared at the phone and all but said “duh” aloud. I knew that, I told
her
when I called.

“Ma’am?”

“I’m still here.” I eased to the front window and peeked through the curtains.

No sounds came from the front or even down the street as far as I could tell. A few porch lights lit, but none of the neighbors ventured out with the sounds of gunfire—a first for our subdivision as far as I knew. I didn’t see Muldoon. Or whoever may have been taking shots. Off in the distance, the wail of sirens was discernible. “I hear the police.”

“They will be there shortly. Is there anyone else in your home with you?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” I glanced over my shoulder and looked through the darkened house. No shadows moved, nothing looked out of place.

Barely a week ago, I couldn’t have imagined my life being in such turmoil.

I nearly jumped when the 911 operator asked, “Where are you in the house?”

“In the front room by the window.”

“Do you see anyone moving about?”

“No. The street is quiet now.” For the past week, though, the police had been on my block for one reason or another. I wondered what my neighbors thought of me. And after tonight’s incident, I’d given them something to talk about for the rest of the month for sure. Assuming it was tied to me.

I’d like to think one of Muldoon’s other cases had followed him, but given the “shadowy figure” tailing me earlier and the overabundance of crap heaped on me, it was more wishful thinking. A gal could dream, though.

It seemed like an eternity before I saw the flash of lights coming down the street.

“Celeste?” Muldoon called from the front yard. “Are you okay?”

“Detective Muldoon is calling me,” I told the operator. “Thanks for...thanks.” I hung up quickly and stood from my crouch at the window and eased toward the front door. “Yes.”

Two squad cars pulled up right in front of my house. The neighbors ventured out of their houses. After only a couple of minutes, the yard was awash with lights and uniformed officers.

On shaky knees, I moved over to the sofa, sat and waited. I’d be questioned yet again.

Muldoon came in and sat in the chair across from me. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Do you know how often you’ve asked me that in the last few days?” I tried to smile but it fell flat.

He didn’t smile in the slightest, just knotted his hands in front of him. “Do you have any idea who would be shooting at you?”

I frowned at him. “Why couldn’t they have been shooting at you?”

Muldoon ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know.” I tossed my hand upward. “Someone was following me earlier when I was walking home from Barney’s. That’s why Kellen picked me up.”

“What?” Muldoon sat up straighter. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“When would I have had the time? We’d just started talking. The next thing I know, you’re shoving me to the ground.”

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” When I shook my head, he leaned forward as if to check for himself, but he eased back into his seat. “Tell me about Barney’s.” He pulled out his notebook. “Please,” he added when my shoulders stiffened.

I sank back into the cushions. “Kellen met me up at Barney’s for a bite to eat. He offered to drive me home.” Muldoon looked up from his notes and frowned. Was he was miffed I’d turned down his dinner offer for another? Was he jealous? Oh, silly me. Of course not.

He tapped his pen on the pad. “Why were you walking?”

“I still don’t have a car. I’d walked up there.”

“You walked. To the restaurant?”

“It’s only like a mile.” Why was walking such a foreign concept? “It’s not like I walked to Dallas.”

He wrote something down. “Go on.”

“I was walking home. At some point I could hear this car. I couldn’t tell exactly where it was, but I could still hear it. As I was crossing the street the lights came on and I about peed myself.” I grimaced. “Sorry. TMI.”

He kept scribbling and didn’t look up.

“Turns out it was Kellen. He followed me from the restaurant to make sure I got home safe. He said someone was lurking in the shadows behind me and was moving in.”

“I knew better than to pull that damn detail...” He made a fist around the pen as he spoke more to himself, then he scribbled something else. He didn’t look up and asked, “Did you see anyone?”

“No.” I picked at a loose string on my sleeve. “I had a weird feeling like I was being followed.”

Muldoon finally met my gaze. “You were. He even admitted it to you.”

“Yeah, but...you don’t think Kellen was the one shooting at me? That’s ridiculous.”