Walleye Junction (41 page)

“You worked there. You must have known what was going on.”

Dot sharpened her tone. “Are you sure you want to go down that road, Emma? Your mother worked at that clinic longer than anyone else.”

“Are you suggesting—”

Dot held up a hand. “I'm suggesting in the gentlest possible way that you let things take their course.” She plucked a cornflower from the bouquet and held it up to the light. “There's a lot of beauty in letting go.”

“And what about the truth?”

A shrug. “
Beauty is truth, truth beauty
.”

Emma rose from the settee. “I'm not sure Keats had this sort of situation in mind.”

“You never know,” said Dot, a smile playing on her lips. “People say he was addicted to opiates. He may have understood better than most.”

Emma stood in front of the painting. “Will you ever show this in public?”

“I'm not planning on it, but who knows what the future holds. Maybe someday my grandchildren will stage a retrospective of my work.”

“I read my father's journal. He was very interested in you.”

“I'm an interesting person.”

“How much do you care about your reputation?”

“Not as much as I once did.”

“Do you want people to know that you were having an affair with my father?”

Dot remained silent.

“I want you to destroy this painting,” said Emma.

“I will.”

Emma picked up a bottle of white spirit and handed it to Dot.

“I want you to do it now,” said Emma.

 

21

Macy handed Gina an industrial-sized bag of potato chips, a box of doughnuts, and a bumper pack of Snickers bars.

Gina laughed. “I was hoping for a cash bonus, but this will do nicely.”

“I thought I should restock your reserves. You've been a big help this past week. I couldn't have done it without you.”

“Don't be silly,” said Gina. “We both know you would have muddled through. Ryan and I are going for a drink to celebrate our last night in Walleye. Feel like joining us? I asked Lou, but he already has plans.”

Macy sat down at the desk she'd been using for the past week. She'd already cleared out everything that was hers. All that was left were a few paper clips, a couple of pens, and an open box of chocolate chip cookies that must have migrated from Gina's desk.

Macy lowered her voice. “Sorry, but I actually have a date.”

Gina swung her chair around to face Macy. “You are a dark horse. Tell me everything. Who's the lucky guy?”

“Aiden Marsh.”

Gina raised her voice several octaves. “Well done, Special Investigator Greeley. He's seriously hot.”

Macy felt the color rise in her cheeks. Even though she was mortified, she couldn't stop smiling.

“Gina, do you think you could speak a little louder? I'm not sure the guys across the room heard you.”

“Is this a first date?”

“No,” Macy admitted. “We've been seeing each other since last summer.”

“Why all the secrecy?”

Macy puffed out her cheeks. “That's a tricky one. I'm not really sure why I've been so hesitant to take it public.”

Gina cocked her head to one side. “You've recently had your private life on show. Your apprehension is justifiable.”

As usual Gina was spot on. Prior to Ray's arrest, Macy was obliged to give investigators a detailed account of their relationship. She couldn't fault them for their professionalism, but it still felt like she was being judged. After word of her relationship with Ray was leaked to the public, things got a lot worse.

“You're right,” said Macy. “But it's not just that. Aiden wants to live together. It would mean moving up here.”

“That's a tough call. Seems like you'd be giving up a lot.”

“He actually suggested that I cut back on my hours or change careers altogether. He doesn't seem to understand how much I love what I do.”

“You could always get a transfer to the Kalispell office,” said Gina. “It's not too far from Wilmington Creek. If it doesn't work out, you head back to Helena with your tail between your legs.”

Macy pushed her chair away from the desk. “I should make a move. I'll give you a shout if our plans change. Aiden mentioned something about going to see some live music.”

“Ryan and I have exhausted all the entertainment possibilities around here. A change of venue would be most welcome.”

“I'll let you know. Otherwise I'll see you in the morning.”

Gina nodded. “Just be honest with him, Macy. Aiden needs to know where your head is.”

“Thanks for the advice,” said Macy. “I'll call you later.”

*   *   *

Macy found Aiden sitting on the back porch sorting through his fishing gear. He shielded his eyes from the late afternoon sun and smiled up at her.

“How's my favorite special investigator?” he asked.

“Exhausted, but satisfied.”

He held out his arms and she settled onto his lap.

“Did you finally get your man?” asked Aiden, pulling her close.

“It was a good week. I managed to get two men.”

“You are clever.”

“I am.”

She laid her head on his shoulder.

“I need to say something,” he said.

“I think we both have things to say.”

“You're going to have to let me go first this time.”

Now that Macy was with Aiden, everything felt crystal clear. Given time, she thought, she could love this man.

“I'm listening,” she said.

“I spoke to Charlotte Crawley yesterday.”

Macy raised an eyebrow. “Small world. I just spoke to her a few minutes ago,” she said.

“About the case?”

Macy nodded. “Kyle Miller admitted to being with Lloyd Spencer on the day he planted the evidence in the fire pit and threatened her children. They were hoping to frame Bob for Philip's murder.”

“Did you figure out how Stacy Shaw factored into the investigation?”

“The detective Charlotte hired to tail Bob works as a subcontractor for Flathead Valley Security. Everything he found out about Bob went through their system. Kyle decided it would be easy to set Bob up. He even went so far as to create an online profile using the name Max to lure Stacy down to Kalispell for a week. I'm not sure what his plans for Stacy were after that.”

“Thankfully, she's still breathing.”

Macy hesitated. “So, what did you and Charlotte talk about?”

“A lot, actually. Bob has moved back in.”

“Seriously?”

“That was my reaction too, but aside from giving her full access to his phone and computer, he's promised to go to therapy a couple of times a week. Maybe there's hope for them yet.”

“You have to admire Charlotte's determination to keep the family together.”

“Charlotte asked how we were doing, and I told her you weren't as enthusiastic about the idea of moving up here as I hoped you would be. I was expecting Charlotte to be sympathetic. Instead I got an earful.”

“I'm liking her more and more,” said Macy.

“Anyway, I wanted to say that I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put so much pressure on you. Asking you to give up your career so you could move in with me was out of line.” He held Macy a little tighter. “I don't want to lose you, but I also don't want to change who you are.”

“But where does that leave us? You're tied to your job here, and I'm in Helena.”

“I'm handing in my notice on Monday.”

Macy sat up. “But you love your job.”

“Yes, but I love fishing more.”

“Fishing doesn't pay the bills.”

“Have a little faith. There is a master plan.”

“I'm listening.”

“Charlotte has decided to invest a great deal of money in my fishing lodge. The plans have expanded to include a hotel and spa, which she will manage. Think about it, Macy. I'll have much more flexibility. The lodge will shut down for much of the off-season. It will mean I can come down to Helena to be with you for months at a time.”

“Are you sure about this? It's still a far cry from living together full time.”

“I'm willing to wait if you are.”

Macy didn't know what to say. No one had ever been willing to sacrifice so much to be with her. Aiden wasn't asking her to change a thing.

“Now,” said Aiden. “I know I promised to take you out for some live music tonight, but I figured we'd go down to the river instead. It's time you had your first fly-fishing lesson.”

“What about dinner?”

“All packed up and ready to go.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Wine?”

“One red and one white.”

“It's going to be dark soon.”

“We'll build a fire.”

“You've thought of everything.”

Aiden hesitated. “Macy, did you have something you wanted to say?”

Macy pressed her lips against his and held them there, but Aiden wasn't going to let his question go unanswered.

“Macy,” he said, pushing her away. “You're not going to distract me that easily. I need to know what you're thinking.”

“I'm thinking you're almost perfect.”

“Almost?” he said.

“Well, there is one little problem.”

“Oh, yeah? What's that?”

Macy cracked a smile. “I'm going to miss seeing you in uniform. Any chance you'll get to keep it?”

 

22

It was late when Emma crept into the kitchen and found a roll of garbage bags. She spent the rest of the night quietly dismantling her past. She finally turned off the light at five in the morning. She slept through her alarm, only waking when her mother knocked on her bedroom door. Francine eyed the empty walls and overflowing garbage bags as she sat perched on the edge of Emma's bed. The day had barely begun and Francine already sounded exhausted.

“Lou Turner called me an hour ago to tell me they've charged Peter with Lucy Winfrey's murder. They identified a fingerprint on the syringe as his.”

Emma couldn't look her mother in the eye. “He was giving drugs to Lucy in exchange for sex.”

Francine's voice broke. “She was only a child.”

“They're also going to charge him with dealing drugs out of his clinic.”

“Was he responsible for Philip's death?”

“Yes, but they may not be able to prove it.” Emma paused. “You'll probably be questioned again.”

“Why would they need to speak to me? I've already told them everything I know.”

“Dad knew things about Dr. Whitaker's practice that weren't in the public domain. It looks like he hacked into the clinic's computers using your account. When you're asked, I want you to tell them that you knew nothing about what was going on. Do you understand?”

“Emma, I was telling the truth when I said I didn't know what your father was working on. There is something I've been keeping from you, though.”

Francine slipped a small black cell phone out of her pocket and put it on the bed between them.

“This was dropped off at the house the same day your father was kidnapped,” said Francine. “It's how the kidnappers contacted me. They threatened to hurt you and Philip if I said anything to the police. It's why I didn't call you to tell you what happened to your father. More than anything, I needed to know you were safe.”

Emma wrapped her arms around her mother and held her close. For a long time neither of them spoke.

“I really thought you didn't love me anymore,” said Emma.

Francine stroked her daughter's hair. “I've missed you so much.”

“I've missed you too.”

Emma leaned back on the pillows and stared at the phone.

“When was the last time they contacted you?” asked Emma.

“Friday morning. They always called me at the same time of day. When I didn't hear anything over the weekend, I thought it was finally over.”

“It is over,” said Emma. She picked up the phone and placed it on the bedside table. “We need to put the past behind us and move on. I thought we could start with my room.”

“Seems like you had a long night.”

“Once I got going I couldn't stop,” said Emma. “What time is it anyway?”

“Half past nine.”

“I've overslept.”

Francine took Emma's hand. “I'm afraid we have to get moving. We need to be at the cemetery by eleven.”

“Isn't there a service at the church beforehand?”

“I spoke to the reverend after I got off the phone with Lou,” said Francine. “I can't mourn your father in a church Peter Whitaker paid for. We'll have a short service at the cemetery.”

“And the wake?” asked Emma.

“It will take place at my friend Mary's house. It's all settled.”

*   *   *

Francine was silent during the drive up to the cemetery. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, and she stared straight ahead. Emma tried to concentrate on her driving but there were too many conflicting emotions coming at her at once. She was worried her mother might be charged as an accessory. All it would take was one person at the doctor's office pointing a finger in Francine's direction. As it was Francine's husband who brought all of Dr. Whitaker's crimes to light, it was probable someone might be vindictive enough to want to bring Francine down.

Sunlight barely pushed through the thick canopy of trees that lined the drive to the cemetery's parking lot. There was already a crowd of mourners gathered near the entrance gate. As she pulled into a space, Emma spotted Caleb among them. She was so nervous she dropped the keys between the seats.

Francine took hold of her daughter's hand. “Emma, it's going to be okay. Pretty soon everyone is going to know what really happened the night Lucy died. Caleb can't hurt you anymore.”