Yellow Ribbons (21 page)

“Not this time.” She squeezed a hug around Nerine’s shoulders and guided her toward the table. “How about a sandwich? We’ve got leftovers from a great ham we had last weekend.” She realized the implications too late but kept making her way to the refrigerator rather than try to cover her tracks.

“It was great,” Jordan jumped in. “Most potlucks are salad and dessert. Lani brings ham.”

“Gotta love a woman who brings her own meat to a party.” She heard the humor in Greg’s voice.

“That’s what I’m sayin’,” Jordan shot back.

She glanced around in time to see the two doing their fist bump. It was a nice save, a good distraction to make Nerine think things were the same as always. It might have worked if the action had transmitted to their expressions. Their smiles were forced, and tension radiated from their shoulders.

“Well, she certainly does know how to make herself at home in someone else’s kitchen.” Hands pressed to her lumbar, Nerine arched her back. Bones and tendons popped. “I’ve never heard anyone complain, and we’ve all been here enough times to know where everything is. A ham sandwich would be lovely. Cute dog.” Nerine dropped her purse on the floor and sank into the chair.

“Greg’s babysitting.” She didn’t need to know the details of Mita’s stay. It might only upset her more. “She loves attention.”

“Who doesn’t?” Smiling, Nerine bent down to indulge the dog.

Lani served the iced tea then busied herself making the sandwiches while Mita broke the tension with demands for petting. Trite phrases came to mind. The normal litany of
how was your trip, sorry for your loss—
words people threw out to cover awkward moments. Lani left them unsaid. The men weren’t talking either. They flanked Nerine, sitting on opposite sides of the table, on alert but not as tense as when they’d first seen her coming down the dirt road.

Lani put the small platter of sandwiches in the center of the table and let them have at it. It was second nature for her to feed people. Cooking was in her blood. Anything leftover she’d take for lunch. Judging from the lack of enthusiasm—only Nerine ate—she’d be eating ham sandwiches for the rest of the week.

Greg rattled the ice in his glass. “Long drive. Why didn’t you call? Big risk that I’d be here.”

“I decided to take my chances.” Nerine set her sandwich down and gripped her hands on her lap. Lani noticed they were shaking, and her posture was ramrod straight. Her gaze never left the open drapes and the view of the naked mulberry tree outside. “I wanted to talk to you. I didn’t realize anyone else would be here.”

“We were discussing work,” they said together. The words came so fast, they had to have been seen for the lie they were.

“It’s just as well.” Nerine pulled in a shaky breath and looked around, her gaze drifting from one to the other. “Please understand that this is a very private issue. I’d prefer Mick’s command not know about it. I trust your discretion. Yours too, Lani. Jordan, I don’t know you all that well, but…” She shrugged one shoulder.

“I could have come to you.” Greg leaned his forearms on the table.

“No.” She shook her head. “I wanted privacy. There’s no place more private than here.”

Until their recent influx of visitors, Lani might have agreed.

“Wes Seaberg has kept me apprised on the status of the investigation.” Nerine swallowed.

Greg pulled half a sandwich from the platter. “Detectives Pattison and Juarez would be better able to give you a detailed report. I believe they’ve released the scene. Pending the autopsy and processing evidence—”

A slash of her hand ordered him to stop. “I concede it might be possible that Mick committed suicide. What I find impossible to believe is that he killed two other people. He had no reason to see Regina Whittaker and Staff Sergeant Tipton dead. The child she was carrying didn’t belong to my husband.”

“Vasectomy?” Jordan asked.

Nerine lifted her chin. Tears filled her eyes. “No. My husband told me he was gay. It’s why I left. He fell in love with someone and wanted to be with him. Everything made horrid sense when he told me. I was devastated. I couldn’t face anyone, though I was finally able to use the excuse of his drinking as my reason for leaving. I don’t know how those bloody clothes got in our house. All I know is that Mick didn’t do this. I’d be more inclined to believe his lover left him and Mick went off the deep end emotionally.”

And was subsequently framed for a murder he didn’t commit? Owens saw him coming from the house. Lani caught herself shaking her head. No one seemed to notice. The sandwiches the men didn’t seem to want minutes ago now held the greatest interest because Jordan grabbed one and started eating, just like Greg. Lani supposed they did so to give them something to do to cover the silence while they ordered their thoughts. Nerine had given them a lot to process.

Finally, his sandwich eaten, Greg heaved a sigh and leaned back. “We’ll keep this as quiet as we can, Nerine, but this is information the detectives need. If the major didn’t do this, someone else did. Autopsies will eventually support the child isn’t his. In the meantime, they need to broaden their scope and look for other possible suspects.”

“I do
not
want this getting out.” She stabbed her finger into the table with such force, the dishes rattled.

Greg slipped his hand over hers. “Nerine, what’s the bigger sin? To be thought of as a murderer or to be outed as gay?”

“You have to ask that? We’re military.” She slipped her hand away to reach for her tea. “It’s why I came to you. I need your help. It’s his computer. There was a lot of porn on there before. I can only imagine what’s on there now. Maybe even e-mails from his lover. I can’t risk someone finding that.”

Jordan cleared his throat. “The detective in charge has released the home to you. If he hasn’t called you, he should soon.”

“I talked to him a short time ago. I’ve already been to the house. I searched everywhere. I can’t find his computer or his cell phone.”

“Both could be with any personal effects recovered at the scene.” Lani’s words only brought more tears to Nerine’s eyes.

“Or in evidence. If this gets out… Once they do those autopsies, they’ll know Mick wasn’t the father of that child. They’ll dig further.”

“I can’t and won’t remove anything from evidence for you, Nerine.” Greg’s gaze turned cold, a look reserved for wayward marines.

Nerine reached across the table, but he refused to connect. “You can go there and accept his personal effects for me, can’t you? Can’t you at least find out if the things are there? Help me prepare for the fallout?”

Lani sympathized. Nerine’s world had caved in. What few military friends she had might snub her once this came out.

“I’ll look at his personal effects and see if the items are in evidence,” Greg finally replied. “But I won’t accept anything on your behalf, especially in light of his possible innocence. I don’t want anyone to suggest I’ve tampered with evidence.”

“Thank you.” She pushed out a breath. “After everything we’ve been through, all I want is to be prepared.” Nerine gave Lani a halfhearted smile. “Thanks for the sandwich. I guess I wasn’t that hungry after all. I should get going. I need to let the Seabergs know I’ve got a motel room in town.”

They stood with her. Nerine wrapped Lani in a hug. “I miss you,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, but…”

Lani hugged her back. “I understand. I wish I’d been more observant. Maybe I could have helped him.”

Nerine snorted. “No one could help him. I imagine his new little friend discovered that the hard way. I actually feel sorry for the guy.”

“Any clue who it was?” Lani asked.

Something flickered across Nerine’s face. Indecision? Disgust? Finally she replied, “Not a one.”

Lani was struck with the feeling that Nerine had lied and dreaded that it might be someone they all knew, possibly yet another person associated with PMO. She racked her brain, trying to determine what, if anything, she might have missed over the last six months. To remember if there was any one person Kenyon spent extra time with, or avoided all together. Nothing new came to mind.

They all filed out the door. Nerine paused shy of her SUV, closed her eyes, and lifted her face into what little warmth the sun provided. The temperature had dropped ten degrees in the last thirty minutes. Dark clouds had breached the battlement of mountains keeping the storm at bay. It wasn’t going to be warming up today. Even Mita’d had enough. She shivered by Lani’s feet, her big eyes cast longingly toward the front door.

“It’s always so peaceful out here. I could so use a little peace.” Her lips trembled at the attempt of a smile. Without another word, she slipped into her vehicle, waved, and drove away.

They watched her dust trail filter into nothing.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Jordan said.

“Let’s go.”

Greg kissed her cheek. “We’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“Don’t make me wait that long to tell me what you find.”

He flashed her a smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She fisted his flannel shirt and held him in place for a bigger kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.” Another kiss and he was gone.

Lani suddenly didn’t give a damn anymore. She wanted that man who’d walked out the door. Wanted the forever, the dogs, cats, birds, and babies. Some would call her crazy for losing everything because of him. What no one realized was that Greg
was
everything. Well, they were about to find out. All Lani had to do was figure out how to resign her commission without compromising Greg in the process.

“I’m open to suggestions.” Jordan flexed his shoulders for the umpteenth time.

Greg had never seen anyone fidget so much. It was getting on his nerves. “I can tell you this much… If you don’t stop rutchin’ and start concentrating on the road, I’m going to make you pull off so I can drive.”

“Sorry,” Jordan muttered. “Nervous energy. Frustration. There’s no way they’re going to let us look at evidence.”

Greg knew that, despite his connections. Jordan stood a better chance without him.

“At this point, I’m beginning to wonder if the boogeyman is responsible for these murders.” Jordan snorted. “What are the odds we’re actually going to find Kenyon’s mystery lover?”

Greg wouldn’t take bets. He had his suspicions, once he’d heard Kenyon was gay. But he sure as hell wasn’t going to out Lieutenant Cornwall…yet. Greg sifted through his recent conversations with the man and Cornwall’s reaction to Kenyon’s death. There was nothing over-the-top or out of the ordinary, except Cornwall confiding his orientation. If they’d been lovers, Cornwall would have been more upset over his death. Unless he’d been present when it happened, made it happen.

Greg considered the size of the two men. Kenyon out-bulked Cornwall in height and weight. Greg couldn’t see Cornwall wrestling Kenyon to the floor and pouring liquor and sleeping pills down his throat. Kenyon would have won that battle.
But not if he was passed out.

“Fuck.” He rubbed his aching neck. “Let’s break this down. The one thing that ties all the murders together is those yellow ribbons. Someone with knowledge of all three crime scenes is involved, whether as the original murderer or as a copycat.”

Jordan flicked up his thumbs in agreement but maintained hold on the wheel. “That brings us back to the list and who knew the names on it.”

They’d narrowed that down to Pattison, Juarez, and Seaberg. “Motive? Because I got nothing.”

Jordan chewed on that one for several miles.

“All right,” Greg broke the interminable silence. “Here’s what else we know. The first two murders are directly related. Someone who killed Tipton and Whittaker either framed Kenyon, or Kenyon was the killer and then killed himself.”

“Why?”

Fuck if I know
. “Maybe Tipton and Kenyon were lovers.” Because that was sure a hell of a lot easier than suggesting Cornwall at this point. “He thought Tipton and Regina were lovers and went off in a jealous rage.” Or Nerine could have it all wrong, and they were back to their original suppositions.

“Lance Corporal Owens saw Kenyon leave the house in bloody clothes. Albeit, in a secret manner that didn’t leave footprints or a trail.”

“According to detectives on the scene: Juarez, who got there shortly after you with a chip on his shoulder, and Pattison, who was too proud to admit everything needed a second look.”

“Whoa.” Jordan raised his palm. “
I
was on the scene.”

Yes, about that
. “Why? Where was Pattison? Why not go through regular channels? More importantly, why did you jump at the chance?”

Jordan jerked his head Greg’s way. “Are you suggesting
I
had something to do with this?”

Scary as it sounded, it seemed as logical a conclusion as anything else they’d come up with. If it were true, that made Greg the stupidest person in the world for being in the car with him. “Is it any different than you suspecting me?”

Jordan whipped to a stop on the shoulder, shooting up tiny rocks and sand in his haste. “I responded to Pattison’s request because he’s a friend and fellow law enforcement officer!”

“There’s no such thing as friends when it comes to murder.” And Greg still didn’t feel the least bit guilty in tossing Jordan’s words back in his face again.

“Touché.” Jordan rested his forehead on the steering wheel. “I don’t have an alibi. I don’t have an excuse for why I rallied to his call for help. I guess I thought…” He pulled upright. “I don’t know what the hell I thought. So…” He turned Greg’s way. “Okay, Seaberg, Juarez, and Pattison are at the top of the suspect list, for lack of better options.”

“Only because they’re the only other people who knew who was on the yellow ribbon list.” Flimsy at best. Greg knew they were grasping at straws. Jordan knew it too. “Let’s head to Major Kenyon’s house first and take a look around before we jump to further conclusions. I know Nerine was already there, but maybe we’ll catch a break.” They sure as hell needed one, and their chances of finding something at the Kenyon house were a little better than the futile attempt to view evidence in lockup.