Chapter Thirteen

Three days passed without anything new. Three long, cold days Sam spent trying to squeeze information out of facts that wouldn’t come together conclusively, while trying to keep his hands off the sexy psychic. She seemed determined to keep him out of her room and at arm’s length. The minute the heat level amped up, she’d call a halt. Sam knew enough about women to read the universal signs. She was interested but cautious, so he resigned himself to following her lead.

He respected the distance, he even understood it, but hell if he liked it. With each passing day he’d convinced himself he could coax a long term commitment out of Emma. At least, one long enough to give him a chance to see if she could be The One. It was hard for him to picture his life without her. Strange the way she fit so well—in his arms, in his dreams for a future. He never figured himself falling for someone with a past like hers, but it had happened and he was going with it, where ever it led.

He watched her now as she worked with her tarot cards. She had almost the entire deck spread across the desk in the study. A deep frown marred her face. He wanted to kiss it away. He wanted this whole circus to be over and done so he could move on.

She rubbed her temples and stared at the desk like she expected it to start talking. “No matter what I do, it always comes out the same. Jen says a man killed her, but central to that death is a woman. If it weren’t for the woman, Jen would be alive.”

“A man and a woman are involved. We have three men and two women to choose from.”

“Except according to the cards and energy, the woman is a hidden force, or unknown. She’s the Moon.” Emma pointed to a card with a silvery disc floating in a moody sky. “Her identity is obscure, yet it is a Major Arcana influence, meaning it is powerful beyond the façade projected. This makes no sense.”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” he replied. “This whole case makes no sense.”

She gathered the cards with a practiced sweep and began shuffling with restless energy. “Has Mike called you back?”

“Not since he blew off our meeting to go hunting with his buddy. I left a voice mail, but they hunt some remote spots well out of cell range. He’s supposed to come back today.”

“The spirits are still quiet. After the way they acted when I first came, it’s unnerving. They’re waiting for something. I don’t like it.” She set the cards down. “How about you? Any more visits from Keith’s spirit?”

“Not since we fished the bodies out of the lake. It’s been radio silence.” It made him way happier than he was about to admit to Emma.

Sam ambled over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. He traced the delicate collar bones, and instead of pulling away, Emma relaxed back in the chair. Tension coiled in her muscles. Gently he kneaded, feeling a surge of masculine pride when she sighed and closed her eyes.

“That feels great,” she purred. “You missed your calling.”

You’re my calling, he thought. “I have hidden talents. I’d be happy to show them all if you’re interested.”

This drew a light laugh from her. His gut tightened into a knot. Funny, the power of the right woman’s laugh. Way more potent than a touch. More like a promise of things to come. A flirty hint that could make a man wild. His fingers drifted, up the column of her spine, feathering into her silky hair. He bent lower. Inhaled her scent. Blood raced hell fire hot through his veins.

“I need to focus,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re not making it easy.”

“We’ve been focused for three days straight and we’re no further along than we were. Maybe we need to chill for an hour or two. See the case with fresh eyes.”

Another feminine chuckle. “I’m almost afraid to ask. What do you have in mind?”

Nothing he could confess without scaring her off. Sam assessed his options rapidly and opted for the oblique approach. “Let’s hit the café in town. Grab some coffee and croissants. They make a raspberry chocolate chip that will melt your heart.”

“Not what I expected.” For a second Sam thought he’d miscalculated. Lost a prime opportunity. But then Emma stretched like a cat and smiled up at him. “Sounds great. Let me get my coat.”

Sam took a few minutes to talk to the lead electrician working on the worst of the wiring issues, then escorted Emma out to the SUV. Ten minutes later they were both comfortably seated with steaming mugs of Cappuccino between them, and croissants on the way. The café buzzed with life. The weather made folks stir crazy and they were out in droves, trying to shake off the blues with high test java and good company.

Emma’s worry lines eased as she sipped the foamy coffee and soaked up the atmosphere. Sam’s heart relaxed. He worried about her. About the strain she was under. This wasn’t the normal kind of case she worked. Dealing with nasty cops or angry family was one thing. An active killer up and running took tension to a whole new level.

Sam smiled across the table at her. “Better?”

“Way better.” She set down the mug. “I can’t get this phantom woman out of my head.”

“Maybe she’s the other body in Heath’s truck?”

“Seems likely but I wish I knew for certain.”

“Let’s look at this like cops,” he suggested. “We have a witness who claims to have been killed by a man, a man who’s still alive, since that witness told you he’d come for you too.”

“A ghost told me this, not a witness. They’re not always reliable reporters of information.”

“Neither are live witnesses. They lie all the time. But right now it’s what we have. Jen says a man is the killer. We have at least one dead man in that car. We don’t know about the other body yet, whether it’s male or female, so we’ll table it until later.”

“Okay, our witness tells us one thing. My evidence is telling me there’s a woman central to the murder, one who’s identity hidden. She’s an unidentified player.”

Sam raised a brow at the strange turn of phrase.

“It’s what my dad would call folks who might figure into a con but were unknown to him formally,” she said “They were always a big risk to a scam.”

She sipped more of her drink and picked the game back up. “Our unearthly witness tells us the necklace is missing and we think it’s key to solving things. We know at least three earthly witnesses have lied: Audrey, Wesley and Mike.”

“Two accomplices and potential murderers are also dead. Evidence doesn’t add up either. We are short one wine glass, one brandy bottle, and potentially a mineral water bottle, though that was probably put into the recycle bin,” he added. “So what do the lies of the original witnesses, the truth of our dead witness and the missing evidence suggest?”

“Multiple crimes,” she answered without hesitation. “I can’t picture Audrey killing Jen, and we know Audrey, so she’s not the hidden woman.”

“So maybe the unknown woman was murdered too? Maybe Audrey committed another crime that night?”

The barista dropped off the croissants. When she’d left, Emma followed his thread. “If there was another crime, then what? What are we missing?”

“Or what do we have that we’re not seeing because we’re too busy looking at things that don’t matter?” He bit into the croissant and savored the mix of butter, chocolate and tart raspberry. “Another thing I can’t duplicate at home.”

“This is heaven,” she said between bites. “A great distraction from all this madness.”

The flaky crust clung briefly to her lips. As she licked it away, Sam came apart. It was a distraction, yes, but a different kind of madness. Damn good thing he was seated with a table hiding his rebellious lower half. He had more than a few ideas about what heaven might be. They all involved her, but not any fancy desserts. He took a few rapid fire swallows of hot coffee, but it did nothing to distract him from her charms.

He was about to continue the line of conjecture, when he caught sight of Wes Vaughn. The man looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days. Sam waved a greeting and flagged him down. Thoughts of Emma were forced to the back of his mind as Wesley grabbed a chair and joined them.

“Sorry to interrupt, Sam. I saw your car as I was driving through town. I figured I’d talk to you direct instead of calling.” He nodded to Emma. “By any chance has Audrey been out to see you at the lodge?”

“No. Why?”

Wes’s eyes were blood shot, and tired lines fanned out from the edges. “The day she had the fainting spell at the lodge, she wound up signing out of the hospital a few hours later, against medical advice. I’d been called away by a patient with suicidal ideation. I’d have stopped her otherwise.”

He slumped back against the chair, defeated. “She didn’t come home until the next morning and was very agitated. She locked herself in our bedroom. Said she had a migraine and needed to be left alone. Then she vanished again last night, and I haven’t been able to reach her.”

Sam didn’t like what he heard. It reminded him of something he’d been a fool to forget. Before she’d gone off the deep end, Audrey had been a powerful mover and shaker in the Saratoga social scene. She was organized, intelligent, efficient. Moneyed and connected enough to carry out a killing, or pay someone like Brad Heath to do it for her. Emma’s mention of multiple crimes took root.

Emma stirred to life. “Why do you think she’d come back to the lodge?”

“I overheard a call this morning. I don’t know who she was talking with, but she was angry. She was yelling something about stopping things before they got out of control.” He stared down at his shoes. “I didn’t catch everything but I heard her say ‘I’ll go to the lodge.’ I assumed she meant Holloway. Though considering what she’s been doing with Mike, it could be anywhere. There are a thousand lodges in these mountains.”

Dismissing Audrey because she was mentally ill now, for a crime committed five years earlier when she was in full possession of her faculties, was a gross mistake. One Sam planned not to make again. “I’m sorry Wes, we haven’t heard from her today.”

Wes looked beat. Sam needed to strike fast, exploit the chink in the normally cool psychiatrist’s armor before it escaped him. He fell easily into the familiar interrogation mode. “You seem upset. Is there something else going on? Something you want to tell me?”

Emma sat back quietly, observing them both, her eyes alight with keen intelligence.

“I looked at her call log.” Wes laughed without humor. “Normally I respect privacy, but I was tired of being the last to know. Her repeated infidelity was too much to take anymore. I figured I’d find Mike’s number.”

A sense of dread stole over Sam. “Go on.”

“She called Lou Preston the night he died.” He cursed, then got himself under control again. “I don’t know who my wife is anymore. She’s having an affair with Mike, she places a call to a murdered sheriff. She disappears for long periods of time. She freaks when bodies are pulled out of the lake. And then there’s the storage locker in Albany. What’s going on, Sam?”

It was no wonder Wesley was rattled. Things weren’t looking good. “You think she’s involved in Lou Preston’s death?”

“Audrey couldn’t kill someone.” His raised voice stopped nearby conversation. More softly, Wes said, “at least, the woman I thought I knew couldn’t. I can’t speak for Mike. He’s always been a nut for killing animals. Not too far a stretch for that kind to make the leap to people.”

Spoken like a shrink. Before Sam could reply, his Blackberry rang. It was Jake Meyer. Sam excused himself and stepped into the rear alcove by the restrooms to take the call. Emma struck up a conversation with Wes, her mannerisms conciliatory and caring. She was picking up the game where Sam left off. She’d have made a great cop.

“Hey Jake, what’s up?”

“I shouldn’t be doing this, Tyler, but I feel I owe you and Emma for getting this case going again. Heath and his companion in the car were each shot by the same .38. Heath took it to the head, bullet remained lodged in the skull. His companion, a woman, best guess was shot through the heart. Bullet was lodged in the shoulder blade. Kind of a strange angle.”

“Who’s the woman?”

“Don’t know. We’re checking dental records, serious rush. There’s more.”

“There always is.”

“That same .38 was used to kill Lou Preston.”

Sam swore under his breath.

“Gets better. I ran a check to see who’s registered for a .38 locally. Wesley Vaughn turned up on the list. Only hitch: he reported the gun stolen three weeks before Jen got killed.”

Sam glanced back at the table. Wes was talking to Emma in earnest, his hands out of his pockets and resting comfortably on the table. For some reason that bothered Sam. “Vaughn is with me right now. Audrey’s missing in action. According to him, she’s off the rails. Made a call to Lou the night he died.”

“I’m pretty sure she was there at some point. Evidence techs found a prescription bottle for valium issued to her by the hospital dispensary right before she signed herself out that day. It had rolled underneath the couch. And she drives a red car. I’ve asked a judge for a warrant. For the house, her car, and the storage locker.” Someone’s voice sounded in the background, calling for Jake. “Hold on a sec.”

A moment later Jake was back. “According to my guys, Audrey’s home. Car’s in the drive. Let Vaughn know. Tell him to meet me at the house. I have a lot of questions for them both.”

It was starting all over again. But this time the truth was in reach. It had taken a psychic to open the door, but the evidence was leading the way. Evidence that was admissible in court. Evidence that could convict a killer, or killers. Retribution was so close, Sam could taste it. And so was his freedom from his debt to Keith. That brought him closer to the future he’d put on hold. And Emma.

Jake said, “You heard from Mike Foyle? I’ve been trying to reach him for questioning.”

“He went hunting a few days back with Ned Barker. Those guys hunt the deep woods, so they go off air. He’s supposed to come back today.”

“If you see him, send him my way. He’s on my list too. If Audrey looks good for this, and he’s been doing her behind Wesley’s back, chances are good Mike’s up to his eyeballs in this mess.”

Sam’s thoughts exactly. “He could be dodging us. Or could have skipped town.”

“Got a warrant for his place, too. Wesley gave me copies of the pictures. They’re pretty damning. If Mike’s gone running, we’ll know in a few hours. There’s a team from the state headed there right now.”

Sam’s nerves hummed with the adrenaline rush that always preceded the wrap up of a good bust. He hated to think his friends were involved in any of this, but like Wesley said about Audrey, he didn’t know her anymore. Sam realized he didn’t know any of them anymore either. Time had passed, people had changed, blood had spilled. Sam cut the call. When he reached the table again, Wes appeared if not calm, then grimly resigned.

Sam sat down and conveyed a scaled down version of events to Wes and Emma. He left out the part about Mike. Wes shuddered and dropped his head into his hands.

“The damn gun. Stupid stupid stupid.” He looked up again, and there were unshed tears in his eyes. “I was assisting the Albany police on a serial rape case. A few times I had to visit the rape crisis center for additional interviews, and had to park at a distance and walk. It’s a rough neighborhood. I was robbed at gun point. Audrey went crazy. She had me get a pistol permit and buy the thing. I hated it. Kept it in the glove box. I was relieved when it was stolen. I’m a doctor, for God’s sake. We’re healers, not killers.”

“Did you tell her it was stolen?”

“Her father was a big game hunter, all her brothers had guns.” He drew a ragged breath. “I didn’t want her to think I was a wimp. I never told her it was gone.”

Emma gave Sam a curious look. “And she never asked where it went after she pushed so hard for you to buy it?”

All Wes could do was shaking his head.

If she never asked, she must have known where it went, Sam reasoned. The loose ends were starting to tie together. He still didn’t know how things fit exactly, but the missing pieces were turning up and now it was only a matter of time. After five years, it was finally happening. “You should get home. Jake wants to question you both.”

“I’ll call our attorney.”

“That’s a good idea,” Sam said.

Wes didn’t bother with parting words, and stalked out of the coffee shop into the driving rain.

Emma watched him go, and for a while continued to stare at the front of the cafe.

“What is it?” Sam finally asked.

She turned back, distracted. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“Try me.”

“I saw a shadow following him. I believe it was Keith.”