I drove home, made my excuses to Momma, turned off my phone, then curled up with a good book and fell asleep before seven o'clock. I'd been missing too much sleep lately, and it was time to start catching up.
I felt good when my alarm went off a little after one A.M. As I dressed, I thought about what the day would bring, and how I could find out more about Officer Grant. I needed something more than a rumor to take to Jake. But proof was tougher to get than I'd ever realized.
I left the house, warmed up the Jeep, then headed to the donut shop. I used to love the short drive there, when I had the world all to myself, but lately, all I saw were shadows and wondered what they were hiding. It was amazing how much my perspective had changed since Patrick Blaine's body had been dumped in front of Donut Hearts.
I went through my new, expedited routine of using my headlights to illuminate the storefront as I raced inside to turn on every light in the place. After that, it was a quick dash back outside to park the Jeep in front of the shop, then dead-bolt myself back inside.
My heart was racing by the time I finished my checklist, but at least I was safe.
I turned the deep fryer on as I passed it on my way to my office to check any messages I might have gotten overnight.
There was a neon numeral 2 illuminated.
"Hey, Suzanne. Sorry to do this to you at the last minute, but I feel awful, and I won't be able to make it in. Hopefully I'll see you tomorrow. Bye." Emma was sick, and I'd known it was a possibility, given the way we'd left things the day before. It meant a longer morning with a great deal more work, but there wasn't anybody I could call, especially at two in the morning. I'd have to cut back on a couple of the
experiments I'd been planning to try, but I should be fine.
The next call was from Jake. He sounded clearly aggravated as he said, "Your cell phone is off, and your ringer at home must not be working, either. I'm returning your call. Sorry it's taken me so long, but I finally have a lead in the case. I should have this wrapped up soon. Behave yourself until I do, Suzanne."
I had to laugh at that. Jake hadn't known me long, but from the amused tone in his voice, it was clear he knew better than to think I'd take that last bit of advice.
I was measuring out the different portions of flour for the morning batch of cake donuts when I replayed everything I'd learned about Patrick Blaine's life over the last several days. I went into kind of a Zen thing when I worked alone, having done it so much that I didn't really need to focus all that much on the process.
I replayed past conversations I'd had with both Officer Moore and Officer Grant, and thought about the times I'd interacted with them in the course of my investigation. While Officer Grant's inquiries had been routine, I suddenly realized that Officer Moore was the one who had been pressing me about what I'd seen the night of Patrick Blaine's murder well past the time he should have dropped it and moved on.
There was something else that had been nagging at me.
Who was the first person on the scene after I'd reported the crime to the police?
Officer Moore.
Who had pointed my suspicions away from himself by claiming other suspects had wounds to their arms?
Officer Moore.
And who had bragged about being a Carolina Panthers fan right in front of me? I suddenly realized that had been the symbol I'd seen on the faded sweatshirt of the killer.
I was right the first time; it had been a cat, or more accurately, a panther.
Officer Moore.
I dug into the top drawer in my office and took out my copy of the statement I'd given him on the night of the murder, something I hadn't even glanced at since he'd given it to me. Then I took out the parking ticket with the time and date printed on the back.
The sevens were identical with their slashes across the middle. Officer Moore had been the one who'd demanded a meeting with Patrick Blaine. But why?
And then I remembered the rumor George had heard about dirty cops on the April Springs police force. Maybe Patrick had uncovered something on a dirty cop. Was it dangerous enough information to get him killed?
I really had to talk to Jake now.
I was dialing his cell phone, regardless of the hour, and just as the call went straight to his voice mail, there was a banging at the front door. Grabbing the knife I'd used before, I came out of the kitchen and looked outside into the darkness.
Jake was leaning against the front door.
Then on the glass I saw the smeared blood coming
from his chest.
I dropped the knife in my hand and struggled to open the door.
As I did, Jake collapsed in my arms.
I had to get him some help.
And then someone else came rushing in.
I wasn't at all surprised to see that it was the man I'd just realized was a cold-blooded killer.
"Why did you do it?" I asked Moore as I held Jake in my arms on the floor. I put my fingers on his throat and found a slight, whispering pulse, and he was taking short, shallow breaths. He wasn't in very good shape, but at least he was still alive.
"He was getting too close," Moore said as he stepped over Jake's body. "Tonight, I'm taking care of loose ends, and you're next on my list."
I shook my head in anger. "I knew you were the one who killed Patrick Blaine," I said as I kept staring at Jake. I had to help him if I could, even if it meant taking a chance with my own life. From the look in Moore's eyes, I knew in the end it didn't matter.
He clearly had no plans to leave me alive.
"Get away from him," he snapped. "I'm going to drag him back into the kitchen, and you're going to lead the way. If you do anything stupid, I'll go take care of your mother after I'm done with you. If you cooperate, though, I'll leave her alone. You wouldn't want to be the cause of her death too, now, would you?"
He was just the sort of maniac to do it, too.
"I won't give you any trouble," I said.
He dragged Jake's body back into the kitchen, and I followed them in. I positioned myself by the heavy maple rolling pin, but I knew I couldn't swing it before he put a bullet or a blade in me. Still, if I got the opportunity, I was going to take it. I didn't have any other choice.
Moore let Jake fall again as soon as they were through the kitchen door, and as the rogue cop turned to me, I said, "I always wondered how you managed to drop Patrick Blaine's body so fast, and still be the first one on the scene. What did you do with the car you were driving?"
Moore almost smiled as he said, "I parked it in the garage behind Newberry's. Nobody thought to look there, especially since that was
my
part of the search area for the abandoned vehicle. It's still back there, covered with a tarp. I'll move it after I'm through here."
"Why dump him in front of the donut shop? You could have put the body anywhere, but you did it where someone might see you."
"Think about it, Suzanne. I needed a perfect alibi, and I knew you were the only one who could give it to me at that time of the morning. I could dump him in the darkness, then drive back to where my squad car was parked. I made sure I was the only one patrolling in town, so I figured you'd be the only witness. I just didn't expect you to flip your lights on when you did."
"It took me a while to put it all together," I admitted.
"From everything I've heard about you around town, I knew you wouldn't give up until you found out who killed Blaine."
Was Jake starting to stir? I had to keep Moore's attention. Maybe then Jake would have a chance to distract him, and I could use the rolling pin to help. "If it's any consolation, I just now managed to figure it out," I said quickly. "Patrick knew you were on the take, didn't he? Was it the investment firm or the construction company that was paying you to look the other way? That's the only thing I haven't figured out yet."
"You're pretty smart, but not that smart. If you don't know, I'm not going to tell you."
"I still can't believe you killed him over money."
He said, "The money was never the issue. Blaine caught me taking a payoff he never should have witnessed, and I had to get rid of him before he went to the chief with it. I tried to buy him off, but he wouldn't budge. Can you believe it? The man made dirty deals on paper all day long, he gambled away every cent he had, but he witnessed one little collection and decided he owed it to his conscience to turn me in. I couldn't let him do that, now, could I? He backed me into a corner, and I couldn't see any other way out."
I heard Jake mutter something, and then there was a clatter behind us. He'd managed to pull a few pans off the shelf. It wasn't much, but it was enough to distract Moore. I grabbed the rolling pin, but instead of swinging it at his head, I suddenly realized I was too far away.
I could throw it, though.
But not directly at Moore's head.
There was a better target right next to him.
I tossed the rolling pin into the scalding hot oil in
the fryer, and it made a terrific splash of boiling liquid. Moore caught it in the face, and he slumped to the floor, clawing at his eyes.
It had been a direct hit.
I grabbed the phone and dialed 911, then picked up a knife to cover the downed cop, but he wasn't a threat to anyone anymore.
I unlocked the front door and propped it open, then went to Jake's side. He was slumped over, and I felt for a pulse, afraid of what I might find.
Was that a heartbeat, or was it just wishful thinking? I took a clean towel and pressed it against his chest wound, whispering to him gently as I waited for the ambulance to arrive.
A paramedic brushed me aside and started working on him as Chief Martin came in behind them.
"What happened here?" he asked gruffly.
"Your officer just tried to kill me, and he almost took out Jake, too. It was all because he was on the take."
The chief looked down in disbelief. Moore wasn't in any shape to answer as he lay there writhing on the floor.
Another paramedic started to tend to him when the chief put a hand on his shoulder. "Take care of him first," he said, nodding toward Jake. "This one can wait."
"He'll be on his way to the hospital in thirty seconds," the paramedic said.
"Then that's how long you're going to wait." I half expected the chief to pull his gun when the paramedic refused and started to treat Moore, but he just turned his back.
"You and I need to talk," Martin said.
"I need to go to the hospital with Jake," I insisted.
"You can't ride with them; they're busy trying to save his life. Come on, I'll give you a lift. What about the shop? Should we wait and lock it up?"
"I don't care if somebody steals everything in it," I said, and I meant it.
We rode to the hospital in relative silence. It was pretty clear that the chief was just as shaken by having a bad cop on his force as I was. "It answers a lot of questions," he finally said. "I've heard rumors that one of my men was taking bribes to look the other way, but I just couldn't bring myself to believe it."
"You mean Moore was one of your suspects, too?"
The chief shook his head. "No, I guess I was blinded by loyalty to my men. I owe you an apology."
In better days, I might have reveled at the admission, but the words were dead to me at the moment. "I just hope Jake is going to be all right."
"Believe me, I do, too."
We made it to the emergency room as they wheeled Jake by on a cart. A doctor was working on him as they moved, and I worried about the flurry of activity around him.
Chief Martin said softly, "It's going to be a while. Why don't I grab us both some coffee, and we can wait together."
I nodded, and he guided me to a chair in the waiting room before going off in search of coffee. I barely noticed him when he got back.
"I said, take it," he repeated, and I realized there was a cup almost under my nose.
"Thanks," I said as I took a gulp. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold the cup. "I don't know what's wrong with my nerves."
"I've seen a lot of good people go through that," he said. "You were calm when it counted, that's all that matters. Did you actually throw a rolling pin at him?"
"No. I knew it would be hit or miss if I aimed for him, and I had to stop him fast. The rolling pin was the heaviest thing around, so I tossed it into the oil. I wonder if I blinded him."
"If you did, it was no less than he deserved," Martin said.
An attendant came out a few minutes later, then said, "It was close, and there's going to be some scarring, but I think his eyes will be fine."
I asked, "His eyes? What are you talking about?"
The attendant said, "Naturally I assumed you were here with the police officer. I thought you'd want to know."
"He's not fit to wear the uniform," the chief said, his voice full of disgust. "How's the state policeman?"
"Not as lucky," the attendant said, before he was called away.
"What did he mean by that?" I asked the chief.
"It's too soon to worry yet," he said.
"Don't you have somewhere else you should be?" I asked. "There's a crime scene you need to take care of. Chief, you don't have to babysit me."
He shook his head. "My best man's on it right now. There's nowhere else I need to be at the moment."
I couldn't believe how nice he was being to me. The ER doors burst open, and my mother came in. "Thank you for calling me, Phillip."
"You're most welcome, Dorothy. Now, if you two will excuse me, I'd better get back to the donut shop."
