Grave Danger (29 page)

L
IBBY SAT ACROSS FROM
J
ASON
in her dining room. Because she was swamped with work, he’d brought lunch from a Chinese restaurant. She wondered what his purpose had been in arranging this meeting. She’d seen the rivalry mixed with respect between Mark and Jason, but now she understood why. Did he feel guilty about Sheila? Was he really blameless?

Their meal had reached the point of winding down, and Jason still hadn’t broached whatever he wanted to talk about, which, she knew from experience, was unusual for him. This made her worry he was going to drop a bomb worse than last time.

Jason sat back, setting his chopsticks on his plate. “Jack and I have begun making arrangements to bury my mom. It’ll be a while before the funeral but knowing we can bury her is a relief.”

Reality slapped her into the present. She’d lost sight of what Jason and his father were dealing with. Guilt flooded her. “I’d like to attend when the time comes.”

“Thank you. I want her killer found. I want a conviction. And I know that means waiting for the police to release her remains, but, after more than two decades, I’m ready to put her to rest.”

“I’ve been going through her research, Jason. I can’t help but feel as if some of it is missing. I wasn’t able to go through all the boxes, but still, there doesn’t seem to be enough data considering the number of years she put into it.”

“The Coho PD should give you copies from the boxes you didn’t get to go through. If you have trouble getting it from them, let me know. Also, Dan Parker called to let me know he found boxes in storage. I was going to pick them up over the weekend, but ended up staying in Coho. How is your report coming?”

“I’m behind.” She didn’t tell him the truth—that being assaulted had changed her priorities. Work was no longer first. Jason was Jack’s son and Jack might not understand. “I hope what I have is what Rosalie wants. But, because I can’t include conjecture or supposition, under threat of your lawsuit, she’ll get the best I can manage.”

Guilt flashed in Jason’s eyes. “That brings us to what I wanted to talk to you about. I feel like I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t owe me anything.”

“I do, and the good news is that maybe in a few days your report won’t matter. I’ve spent the last ten months negotiating a deal to sell Thorpe Log & Lumber. Now we’re scheduled to sign and close on Thursday. If the deal goes through, I don’t care what you write in that report.”

Surprise rippled through her. “You managed to move up the closing date on this business deal so it would be complete before I send my draft to the Corps of Engineers.”

He nodded. “It wasn’t easy. You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone. It still could fall through.”

Stunned by the amount of trust he had in her, she asked, “Why are you telling me?”

“To take some of the pressure off you. You found my mom, and I know you had to work to convince the cops she wasn’t Indian. If you hadn’t pushed, then there never would have been a DNA test that verified her identity. Nothing I do can equal what you’ve done for Jack and me. For my mom. Giving you the freedom to write your report the way you need is small payment.”

“Who is your buyer?”

“A consortium of investors. They want to make Coho into a living history museum. A tourist attraction. Like Williamsburg.”

Libby set her glass down with a thud. “Coho is the perfect setting for that.”

“They’re buying everything with the guarantee that the historic district will remain intact. We’ve been trying to sell ever since the mill closed, and the historic district was always the sticking point. All company holdings are on the National Register of Historic Places. That scared off potential buyers. It was either break up the historic district or let some buildings fall into disrepair so they could be razed—not ethical, but still legal. Now we don’t have to do anything that drastic. In fact, the buildings that need work will be returned to their late-nineteenth century state.”

“Why did my report matter?”

“I couldn’t take the chance that the investors would back off. There’s another sawmill town on the Kitsap Peninsula—Port Gamble. They don’t have as many structures or acres as TL&L, but they also don’t have a racist bastard who ran things for nearly seventy years. The whole project is a celebration of history. Coho history. Like Williamsburg, they plan to do reenactments of actual events that happened in Coho, with the focus, fortunately, on the 1870s—before Lyle. But there will be displays and exhibits about TL&L in the twentieth century. If they know exactly what Lyle was, how he treated the tribe and the workers, I think they would choose to buy Port Gamble instead.

“So, Libby, if for any reason the deal doesn’t close on Thursday, what you put in your report could cause the sale to fall apart.”

“And there’s the major problem. An accounting of Lyle’s sins is exactly what Rosalie wants. If your buyers are likely to look elsewhere due to controversy, then anything I write could be a problem.”

“I need to close on Thursday,” Jason said. “If I don’t, will you let me read your draft before you submit to the Corps?”

“I won’t change anything, Jason.”

“But you’ll let me read it?”

“Yes.”

He looked at his watch and stood abruptly. “It’s later than I thought. I’ve got a meeting to get to.”

Libby followed him through the living room to the front door. He opened the door, and then stopped. He turned and grabbed her waist, pulling her to him. “I almost forgot one thing. This.” Then Jason kissed her.

She nearly lost her balance and placed her hands on his chest to steady herself. The kiss had caught her completely off-guard. Stunned, she barely managed to remember this man was her client’s son—she couldn’t blithely shove him away, to hell with the consequences. Instead, she gently pushed at his chest and stepped back. “Jason, I can’t.”

“You’ve told me about your client’s brother. I’m not like him. This won’t affect the project.”

She could use her relationship with Mark as an excuse, but that would be tantamount to saying,
I’d be with you if I wasn’t with Mark,
which wasn’t true, and given their rivalry, was the kind of thing that could lead to more trouble between them.

“I’m sorry, Jason. This isn’t what I want. I’m flattered, but I can’t get involved with you.”

His face was unreadable. She worried her words were too harsh.

“You don’t sound likely to change your mind.”

“I won’t.”

“I can still hope.”

“Don’t.”

He nodded and disappeared through the door.

What the hell was that about? She’d still bet her business the man was really interested in Simone. Maybe he already knew of her involvement with Mark, and the rivalry between them went deeper than Mark was willing to admit.

M
ARK COULDN’T BELIEVE WHAT
he’d witnessed. Jason had kissed Libby. And she didn’t shove him away. Shock and hurt didn’t begin to describe how he felt as he drove aimlessly across town, away from the scene he couldn’t get out of his mind. His knuckles on the steering wheel were white. He needed to get his emotions under control.

Aaron’s words echoed in his head. They’d been the reason he’d gone to the Shelby house—to talk to Libby. Not to confront her. No. He’d managed to close the door on doubt, and just wanted to see her. He’d forgotten about her lunch meeting with Jason until he saw the gold Lexus parked out front, and then he’d been reluctant to interrupt, so he’d waited.

Jason. Again. The old wound opened, ten times more painful.

Back at the station, he escaped into his office. A message from Bobby waited on his desk. He called his ex-partner and close friend. He needed to talk to someone, and Bobby was the sharpest judge of character he knew. “What’s going on, Bobby?”

“Brady’s not our guy. Not for Thursday, anyway. He used his ATM card in Seattle at 11:30 that night. We’ve got video from both the machine and the convenience store.”

“Brady called me today. He must’ve known he was in the clear. He’s pissed and wanted to rattle me.” Mark didn’t add he’d been successful.

“I don’t like him, but we haven’t got anything on him. I’ve talked to Internal Affairs. They’re dropping their investigation. Brady may have stalked her before, but he didn’t attack her Thursday. In fact, I’ve got a few questions about her myself.”

A wave of unease washed over him. When Bobby followed his gut, he was the best investigator there was. “What?”

“Her friend Atherton. I caught her spying on Brady this weekend. I was doing a drive-by, to check up on him, when I saw her staked out by his apartment.”

“She’s worried about Libby.”

“Maybe, but I’m not sure. She was sitting in her car, in front of his building. So I climbed in the passenger seat, uninvited. I scooped some papers off the seat before sitting down. One of those papers was Brady’s work schedule.”

“How did she get his schedule?”

“She claimed she got it from a contact in his precinct. But there’s more. She had a camera. I asked her if she was the one who altered the photos used as evidence against Brady before. She admitted she was.”

“Some people don’t know what the right to remain silent means.”

“Thank God, or we’d never have anything to work with. Anyway, she said she was just checking up on him and had purchased a new camera for the dig. She claimed she was trying the features on the new camera while she waited to see if Aaron was home. I don’t buy it. Her story was too pat. Seems these women are too willing to cheat to get what they want.”

“Could just be Atherton. Libby said she didn’t know about the photos being altered until a few months ago.”

Bobby paused. “Don’t tell me you’re screwing Libby Maitland.”

He exercised his right to remain silent.

“What the fuck are you thinking? She’s a victim and a potential suspect.”

“I took her off the suspect list a week ago. My gut says she’s on the level.”

“That’s your dick talking. Usually I’m the one who makes that mistake. You’ve got to end any relationship you have with her. Now. Jesus, do you want to lose your job?”

“I won’t lose my job because of Libby.”

“Didn’t you tell me she tampered with evidence in your murder case?”

“She opened one box and copied some cassettes for her report. If she’d opened all the boxes before we identified Angela, it wouldn’t have been an issue.”

“You’re in deep, buddy, if you’re making excuses for her. Think about this. With Aaron Brady no longer a suspect, who else have you got? Libby has spent the last week trying to convince you he’s our guy, but we know he’s not the one. Her buddy Atherton has gone to some length to keep tabs on him. Why? Why was Maitland so eager to implicate Brady? She’s the best suspect you’ve got.”

If anyone else had asked those questions, Mark could ignore them. But he trusted Bobby’s judgment implicitly. Cold dread ran through him. “I’ll think about it,” he said, and hung up.

He rested his forehead on his fingertips, shaken to the core. Had he made a huge judgment mistake? Hell, it wasn’t nearly so simple.

He’d fallen in love with her.

But Bobby was right. He
had
to consider her as a suspect. Aaron’s claim he’d slept with her had been convincing. If she lied about whether or not she had sex with him—when she could easily have told him the truth—what else had she lied about?

After seeing her in Jason’s arms, her guilt seemed…possible. She could be playing Jason for financial reasons. Just like Brady claimed.

Luke knocked and then poked his head inside. “Chief, we need to finish going over the results in the Maitland investigation.” He entered the room and shut the door. “You aren’t going to like my findings. It’s no secret you’re involved with her.”

“Don’t make assumptions about my feelings or my ability to do the job, Officer Roth.”

Luke’s gaze dropped to the floor. “Sorry, Chief.” He placed a stack of papers in front of Mark. “First of all, I obtained copies of all of her phone records for the last month. As Simone Atherton claimed, the phone call that was made to her at two a.m. Tuesday morning originated from the Shelby house. That could mean the stalker was there, in the house with her, but I’m inclined to think Maitland made that call herself. Atherton doesn’t have a landline, so the call came on her cell phone, which is not an easy number to obtain.”