Framed to Death (A Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery Book 4) (3 page)

THREE

The room was quiet. Deathly quiet. I wasn’t sure if the chief dashed out during my crying fit or was playing a game on the computer. I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to answer any more questions, or proclaim my innocence nicely, so I stayed prone on the desk, hoping the chief thought I fell asleep. Carefully, I placed Ted’s mug on the ground. I was annoyed, but didn’t want to ruin the carpet.

Then again, maybe that wasn’t a bright idea. Could an innocent woman actually sleep knowing she was about to face drug distribution charges?

“You got some major trouble here, Chief,” the dispatcher said.

Chief Moore awkwardly patted my shoulder. “I better see to that. You stay put.”

I wondered if that was the chief’s polite way of saying I was still being questioned about my involvement in the Janie distribution. I sat up, taking in deep, steadying breaths. The longer he was gone, the better. It was time to pull myself together. I used the hem of my t-shirt to dry my face. The chief’s subtle warnings went through my head. There was a limited choice on who I could, or should, ask for help. Poor Jasper was in a heap of trouble and all he did was believe the truth.

Once I was out of here and caught up on some sleep, I’d have a level head to figure out a way.

“Where are you keeping her?” Gussie Buford’s voice boomed through the station.

I grinned. My friend, grandmothers’ confidante, scrapbooking partner, and one of the most down-to-earth and feared women in Eden had come to my rescue. I didn’t think there were too many other “hers” the police were keeping sequestered in the station. I might not have a plan, but my grandmothers had put one in motion.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Chief Moore’s voice reached me before he braced himself in the doorway.

“You asked. I’m answering no.” Gussie hunched down, peering at me from under the chief’s outstretched arm. “How ya doing, sweetie?”

“All right.”

“Your grandmothers and your neighbor, Mrs. Barlow, are watching the cops search your house. They want to make sure no one is adding any decorations to your place.”

Chief Moore sat in his chair. “No one would do that.”

“We didn’t think you’d drag Faith in for this nonsense.” Gussie squeezed herself into the metal armchair next to me.

“It wasn’t nonsense. There are pictures of Faith in possession of the drug.”

Gussie snorted. “And I could go take a picture right now of Mitchell in possession of it. You going to arrest him next? The boy has the bag right out in the open on his desk.”

“Not for long.” The chief launched himself from his chair and stalked out of the room.

I turned to face Gussie. “How are my grandmothers?”

“Not happy.” Gussie patted my head. “It’s not you they’re mad at. Hope is furious that Randall, or should I say Chief Moore, brought you in and that he didn’t call her. Cheryl didn’t want her coming because she was certain Hope would’ve clobbered him with a cast-iron skillet.”

Uh-oh. Hope was calling him “Chief.” Not a good sign for him. “How did they find out?”

“Like they’re not going to notice two police cars parked in your driveway.”

True.

“Mrs. Barlow heard everything on her police scanner and ran over to tell them. She listens to it like it’s her favorite radio station.”

“Thanks for coming. I’m sorry you were dragged out of bed so early.”

“This is normal for me, though it’s usually my boys I’m hightailing it to the police station for.”

Chief Moore rejoined us. “All the evidence is secured.”

Gussie heaved her large purse onto the desk and opened it up. “I have enough to pay the two-thousand-dollar bail. That’s the usual amount for one of my boys. If it’s more, I can bond her out. The boys and I are now certified bondspeople.”

“Faith isn’t under arrest. There were just some questions we needed her to answer.”

“Then we can leave.” Gussie snapped her purse shut, lumbering to her feet.

“There are still a few questions I have to ask.”

“We’re going to run into a different kind of trouble if she’s detained any longer.” A new voice entered the conversation.

A jolt went up and down my spine. I knew that slow, know-it-all rumble—homicide detective Ted Roget. My nemesis. Burr under my saddle. Major button-pusher. Pea under my mattress.

And, strangely, my best friend.

Ted stood outside the chief’s office, propping his broad shoulder against the door jamb. “No further evidence has been found. We only have one piece of circumstantial evidence.”

“Because there isn’t any at my home or at Scrap This. I’m not involved,” I said.

“Don’t forget there are three witness statements,” Chief Moore said. “I have enough to arrest her.”

Gussie took in a deep breath. I was too stunned to do anything.

“Like I said, circumstantial at best.” Ted stepped inside, voice dipping low. “Chief, I understand the bind you’re in because of the accusations being made against the force, but we can’t keep her indefinitely because parents are demanding it.”

Chief Moore stood, palms pressing hard onto the desk, his fingers turning a chalky white.

“Detective Roget, what were my instructions early this morning?”

“I was to stay at home and not get involved in this incident so we’d maintain an appearance of impartiality.”

“And you’re disobeying that request.”

“Even worse than being impartial, Chief, is railroading someone to appease a community. With the fire at Lake’s business that spread to Clive’s, the searches at Faith’s home and store, and Jasper being on leave, I knew you’d be short-staffed. I figured it was my duty to help.”

“I’m not finding you helpful right now, Detective.”

Gussie’s gaze ping-ponged between the now three men, as the night dispatcher had wandered into the hallway and took up residence in a corner.

I stood. “I’m going to end this conversation. I was in the legal field long enough to know I don’t have to answer any questions. If you want to charge me, then do it. My next step will be calling an attorney.” I turned to Ted. “Do you know a good defense attorney?”

“Don’t have any on my contact list, but my brother knows a few.” Ted unclipped his cell from his belt. “I’ll text Bob and get some names.”

“That’s not staying out of this, Detective,” Chief Moore said. “If word gets out that you’re helping Faith, the residents—”

“Will run me out of town?” Ted raised his gaze heavenward and held up his hands. “Praise the Lord and pass me the collection plate, that’s one miracle I’ll help finance.”

Gussie leaned toward me. “You know, I’m starting to like him.”

So was I. More and more.

“If you’re leaving, Faith,” the dispatcher said, making his presence known, “I’d use the side door. There’s quite a crowd out front.”

Chief Moore groaned.

“I’ll escort her out,” Ted said.

I shook my head. “No. I don’t want anyone accusing you of anything. It’s bad enough they’ve got Chief Moore running scared. I’ll leave out the front door. I’m not slinking out of here like a criminal.”

“I’m not scared,” the chief corrected me. “I’m being prudent.”

“Whatever you want to call it, it’s made you force Jasper to take an involuntary vacation. I don’t want to make anything harder for you, Ted, or anyone else in this station. I need to leave here on my own.”

When I stepped outside of the station, I wished I hadn’t been so hasty. A group of people holding signs walked back and forth in front of the doors.

“Cover-up!”

“Stop shielding the guilty!” A woman shook her sign toward the station.

“They’re letting her go!” An enraged voice filled the air.

At six o’clock in the morning, shouldn’t they be at home getting ready for work or sending kids off to school, not picketing the police station?

The crowd hurled profanities. The hostility around me was almost tangible. It rolled off the crowd. Heated words. Rage-filled faces. My breath clogged in my throat as I battled back fear.

“No surprise, the resident lawman-lover just skips out of jail.” Andrew Taylor, a former big-man-on-Eden-High campus, accosted me with his roaming gaze. “Adding the chief to your list?”

Even if it went against my instinct, there were times to keep your mouth shut, and now was one. The crowd was spoiling for a fight and I refused to take the bait.

Andrew’s fingers dug into my skin.

“I’m making a citizen’s arrest.”

“Don’t touch me.”

I unhooked his grip from my arm.

“This crowd needs to disperse before you all find yourselves saying ‘cheese’ to our booking camera.” Ted positioned himself a few feet away from me.

“Just leave her alone.” Charlotte ran up the stairs, using her elbows to clear out the crowd. “This is out of hand.”

Who was at fault for that? I glared at her. Never again would I do her a favor.

“She sold drugs to your kid,” Andrew said. “Why are you defending her?”

“I confiscated it. I wasn’t selling it,” I said.

“Are you blaming those poor girls?”

“Let’s leave. I’ll take you home.” Charlotte tried shooing me down the stairs.

I ignored her. I didn’t want hate directed at Hannah, but I wouldn’t stand by and take the blame for someone else’s crime. The first time I said nothing when I was accused of a felony, I was put into jail while my then-husband Adam was free, laying the groundwork to try and prove I’d committed his crime.

“I’m not saying they’re selling it, but they are the ones who brought it into Polished. Not me.”

“Remain silent, Faith,” Ted muttered behind me.

“We should believe you over them?” someone shouted.

“Yes,” I fired back.

The crowd took in a collected breath, releasing it out in one angry hiss.

“You don’t think we know you were married to a murderer?” Andrew taunted me.

I was positive the news had gone around town about three minutes after Steve and I’d returned from a crop in May. Mrs. Barlow had researched the situation to find out why I—and more intriguing, my grandmother Cheryl—didn’t look so adoringly at Steve anymore. “Doesn’t mean I’m a liar,” I said.

“You two are in this together.” Andrew jabbed a finger toward me then Charlotte. “She’s trying to confuse everyone by first blaming Faith, and then coming to stick up for her.”

The crowd pushed in on us, shouting profanities and threats at Ted, who maneuvered himself in front of us.

“Go into the station, Faith.” Ted eased in front of me. “We understand the community has some concerns, but behaving like this isn’t helping anything.”

“Neither is letting her go. Coach Rutherford told us the superintendent suspended all the players,” Andrew said.

“What?” Ted looked at him in confusion.

“That fire last night took out the flower shop,” Andrew said. “The fire chief said it was caused by the carelessness of the teens, and he found a bag of Janie there.”

So that’s what the picketing was really about. The team got wrapped into this issue and now couldn’t play. The forfeit ruined their perfect record, and depending on the length of the suspension, could ruin their chances of becoming division champs for the third straight year. Eden had three claims to fame: my sleuthing, an assistant prosecutor having a murderer as a relative, and state football championships. And only one of those items benefitted the town in a positive way.

“The police have nothing to do with the decision the superintendent made,” Ted said.

“It’s not fair. The team is suspended and nothing is happening to her because she’s slept with an assistant prosecutor and now you,” Andrew said.

“I’m not sleeping with anybody,” I defended my honor.

“You need to go home, Andrew.” Steve Davis materialized out of the crowd, placing one foot on a stair, the other on the sidewalk. He leaned forward, arm resting on his knee. “Right now, without uttering one more word against, or to, Faith.”

Even from ten feet away, I saw the anger burning in his eyes. Steve was a calm guy. I couldn’t recall a time when I saw him enraged, but everyone had their Hulk moment, and I had a feeling Steve was approaching his.

“You ain’t my boss,” Andrew said.

“But I’m the man who holds all the power over you hearing the game tonight,” Steve said. “You insult my girl one more time, I quit.”

I bit my lip. Now wasn’t the time to force Steve to accept the fact I wasn’t his girl anymore.

“Come on, Andrew, leave her alone,” a man in the crowd said.

“Good call, Davis,” Ted said.

“Do you want Clive or Principal Hanover taking over again?” Steve asked. “You know what a fiasco it was the last time one of them called the football game.”

“But there’s no game,” Andrew said. “That’s what Coach Rutherford told us.”

“He’s mistaken,” Steve said.

“You calling him a liar?” With clenched fists, Andrew approached Steve.

“No, he’s just not a lawyer. I know the law. He doesn’t, and neither does the superintendent,” Steve said.

A hopeful smile broke across Andrew’s face. “No suspensions?”

“No grounds for it,” Steve said. “You can’t go making up rules or changing them because you suspect something and want it stopped.”

The crowd dispersed. Andrew even muttered an almost-sincere apology to me.

“Faith, I need to talk to you.” Charlotte rested a shaking hand on my arm, tears filling her blue eyes.

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

Steve wrapped an arm around my waist and led me away from the police station. At that moment, I didn’t care where he planned on taking me, as long as it was away from Charlotte. I needed sleep and a renewal of my patience before I said what I was thinking.

I shivered. The early morning air held a tinge of the coming coldness as spring left for the coming fall. Steve slipped out of his suit jacket and draped it around my shoulders.

“Are you going to get into trouble?” I pulled the coat closed, hoping to ward off some of the chill from my upper body. Until I exchanged my shorts for pants, my legs were out of luck.

“For what? Walking you to my truck so I can take you home?” He grinned at me.

I didn’t want him to pacify me; I wanted the unvarnished truth. I used to love how nothing frazzled Steve, but now I knew it was because he was a great pretender. Feelings were something he locked up tighter even than I did. I was working on being more of a free spirit, or at least taking my heart out of the closet, not quite up to wearing it on my sleeve yet.

“You know what I mean. For coming to the station and taking up for me. I’m sure your boss won’t be thrilled with it.”

“No,” Steve admitted. “But I don’t care. They’re making a mistake and riling up the town by taking a small piece of evidence and acting like it establishes a complete case. It won’t hold up in court…if you have a good defense attorney.”

I slammed to a stop, grabbing hold of Steve’s arm. “They’re going to arrest me? Because of that photo?”

“If the county prosecutor gets her way, yes. She wants to make a grand gesture showing she’s taking a firm stance against the drugs and the rising crime rate. It’s the only hard evidence we have linking the drugs to someone.”

“So I’m turned into the poster girl of the criminals getting their comeuppance.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Running to my aid puts your job in jeopardy. I don’t want you doing that.”

That had been my original concern when I realized Steve wanted to date me. I feared my past—having married a murderer and briefly been in jail for having committed his crime—would ruin Steve’s chances of moving up in the legal field. I knew Steve had ambitions beyond being an Eden county assistant prosecutor.

“I owe it to you, Faith.”

Anger churned through me, warming my blood and chasing away the cold. “You don’t owe me.”

“Yes, I do.” Pain flashed across his face.

The guilt Steve felt, and the responsibility he took for what Adam had done, was what I refused to live with for the rest of my—our—life. I was more upset about that than the fact that Steve had kept a secret from me. I could eventually get over the information withholding, but having Adam’s ghost hovering around was a deal breaker. I needed the man out of my life. He had resided in my heart and head too many years after we were divorced.

“No. His sins aren’t yours. I don’t want you getting fired because—”

“I can’t win with you, can I?” Steve ran his hand over his shaved head. “A man stands up for the woman he loves. He puts her first.”

“If it’s for me, fine. But if it’s because you want to make up for what Adam did to me, no.”

“That makes no sense.” Steve paced back and forth on the sidewalk.

“It makes Adam the deciding factor in our relationship. Not me. Not you.” I took in a deep breath. Now was the time to make sure Steve was clear on what I meant. We were over. “Steve, it isn’t going—”

A large truck pulled to a stop beside me. The engine revved, sounding like a psychotic cat readying to attack. I recognized those red, white, and blue rims. Charlotte.

She rolled down the window. “Please, Faith, I need to talk to you. Explain everything.”

“It’s easy to understand. You and Hannah lied to the police.”

“It wasn’t the first time,” Charlotte said.

I gaped at her.

“I don’t want to hear this.” Steve headed down the block.

I wasn’t sure if he meant what Charlotte was talking about or the statement I’d started. Yet again Steve found a way to stop our inevitable conversation. “Steve, we need…”

“I know. Saturday night, dinner, at a nice quiet place.”

“Faith? Please?” Charlotte’s beseeching voice was getting to me. Along with my curiosity. I felt the warmth from her heater. “I have coffee and cinnamon rolls.”