The Right Call (24 page)

“Then you understand.”

“Sure.”

Carter giggled and held out his arms and let his weight fall toward Emily. She caught him. “Okay, little man. Let’s get you situated in your high chair.” She cocked her head and held Ethan’s gaze. “I’m really glad you’re here for the summer. I like it when you come over.”

“Thanks. I enjoy it too.”

“My parents like you,” Emily said. “And Tessa
really
does. I can tell. Her eyes get all sparkly when Vanessa talks about you.”

“Sparkly, eh? That’s a good thing.”

Emily flashed a toothy grin. “Definitely. Tessa spends a lot of time with God and prays for our family. If she didn’t feel good about you, I don’t think you’d stand a chance with my parents.”

“Sounds like I’d better be sure I’m on Tessa’s good side.”

“Oh, I think you’re on Tessa’s
great
side.”

Chapter 28

Ethan
, arm in arm with Vanessa, strolled out to his car, the night air thick with humidity and the scent of wet earth, the moonlit foothills visible between the houses across the street. He turned around, leaned against the car, and pulled Vanessa into his arms.

“I had a wonderful time spending the day here,” he said. “I actually forgot about Drew when we played Monopoly. It felt so good to laugh.”

“It did.” Vanessa nestled in his arms. “We should do it again tomorrow.”

“Did you get the feeling that Emily was matchmaking?”

“Do you think?” Vanessa chuckled. “It occurred to me that she’s never seen me romantically involved with anyone. She never even met Ty.”

“I think she’s getting a kick out of us.”

“They all are. Did you see Mom nudge Tessa when you sold me Park Place?”

“I wanted the Reading Railroad. I thought it was a fair trade.”

“Oh, pleeease. No one else would’ve done that when I already had Boardwalk. Emily would’ve died first.”

Ethan smiled. “Okay, so I showed a little favoritism.” He kissed the top of her head and inhaled the flowery scent. “What can I say? I love you.”

He winced. Why had he let something so precious just slip out like that? Couldn’t he have waited for some knight-in-shining-armor moment? Given her jewelry? Taken her someplace special?

“I love you, too,” she whispered. “I’ve wanted to say it before now. But with all that’s happened, there never seemed to be a right time.”

Ethan, certain that the pounding of his heart must be audible, pressed his lips to hers and let his actions say what his words lacked. He did love her. And she loved him. The magnitude of that glorious fact made his knees suddenly weak.

He slowly pulled back from Vanessa and let his weight fall against the car, feeling almost giddy. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time but did neither. Breathless, he reached out and stroked her cheek, Vanessa smiling with her eyes.

He was aware of his phone vibrating but wasn’t about to ruin the moment by answering it.

“When did you know?” Vanessa said.

“I guess a part of me knew the first time you placed my hands on your pregnant tummy and let me feel Carter kick.”

Vanessa laughed. “When I looked like a hippo, and you said I was the loveliest hippo you’d ever seen?”

“You were.”

“Love
must
be blind. No one else could’ve seen me that way.”

“I thought you were beautiful. Now you’re ravishing.”

Ethan pulled her close, letting her warm, soft lips melt into his, then cupped her face in his hand and gazed into her eyes.

“I love you, Vanessa. It’s so great hearing myself say what I’ve thought a thousand times. And I’m falling in love with Carter, too.”

“I can tell. He adores you.”

“I want us to enjoy the summer and see where it leads. But I want you to know that I’m hoping it leads to something permanent.”

Her crystal blue eyes brimmed with tears.

“Honey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Suddenly everything is wonderful. I’m just afraid something will happen to mess it up.”

“Nothing is going to mess it up. Let’s start the summer over right here. Let’s put God in the center. He has a plan. And if that includes us being together, He’ll clear a path.” Ethan tightened his arms around her, feeling more protective than he ever had before. “Lord, we want
Your
will for this relationship. Vanessa and I commit ourselves to You and to each other and Carter. We pray that You’ll help us to make our relationship all it’s meant to be—and that we will be a reflection of You. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.”

“Amen.” Vanessa laid her head on his chest. “Do you have any idea how wonderful it is having a godly man to love? You’re a gift. God is so good to allow me a second chance to do this right.”

Ethan’s phone vibrated again and he let it go. The direction of his life had just changed, and he wanted to savor the moment. How could anything anyone else had to say be more important than this?

Stedman squeezed his cell phone. Why didn’t Ethan answer? Why hadn’t he called back? He peeked out the curtains and wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Grant said there would be consequences. What did that really mean?

He picked up the Smith & Wesson pistol. If only he hadn’t handled the other one and left his fingerprints all over it. If only he hadn’t agreed to kill a man. Father David warned him his gambling would be his demise. But could even the parish priest have envisioned him caught in
this
web?

Four people were dead—all to cover up the death of one. The conspirators had nothing to lose. They didn’t come this far only to get derailed. Guys like Win Davison paid to stay on track. When money was no object, there was nothing it couldn’t buy—including a man’s soul.

Why did that memo have to get jammed in the printer? No one would ever believe the ugly truth without evidence!

Stedman’s hypocrisy taunted him. Would naming the conspirators alleviate his own guilt, just because he never followed through? Nothing could change the fact that he had purposed in his heart to kill a man. He was no better than Grant and the others and no less guilty. But he wasn’t willing to take the fall for them.

He glanced at his watch. It was late. How big a window did he have before the conspirators decided he was a liability? Was he crazy to consider what he was about to do? Was it fair to Ethan? What choice did he have?

Brill went out to the kitchen to get a glass of warm milk, surprised to see Vanessa sitting at the table.

“Honey, why aren’t you asleep? Is anything wrong?”

“No. Just the opposite.”

“Would you like a cup of warm milk?”

“No, thanks.”

Brill poured a cup of milk and put it in the microwave, then went over and sat next to Vanessa.

“So what’s keeping you up?”

Vanessa smiled, her eyes twinkling. “Ethan loves me. He told me tonight.”

“I see. And do you love him?”
As if I didn’t know.

“Very much. We’ve both been holding back saying it because of the circumstances. It just sort of popped out of Ethan, and then I responded. And before we knew it, we were praying that God would be in the center of it and direct it the way
He
wants. It was amazing.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “After my fiasco with Ty, I never dreamed God would give me a second chance.”

Brill tilted Vanessa’s chin and wiped the tear with her thumb. “I’m so happy for you. Not surprised, but happy. Ethan just might be the answer to my—and your father’s—prayers. He seems crazy about Carter, too.”

“He is. We just want to take the summer and let our relationship blossom.”

“I’m sorry you have to deal with grief at the same time.”

“Me, too. But this feels bigger than the sorrow.” Vanessa laced her fingers together. “Maybe falling in love will trump all the bad. It did today. We had so much fun. He loves being with our family.”

“The feeling’s mutual. And in case you didn’t notice, Emily adores Ethan.”

“Believe me, I’ve noticed. Lately, she’s been talking about Carter needing a daddy.”

“He does. But I think your father has been a wonderful stand-in, and he can assume that role as long as necessary. I’d like to think you and Ethan know not to get in a hurry, just because of Carter.”

“Don’t worry. We won’t. Ethan’s got a lot of schooling ahead. There’s an awful lot to consider if this is the real thing.”

“If?”

Vanessa giggled. “Okay, it
is
the real thing. I meant to say
if
we decide we want to move forward.”

“Move forward with what?” Kurt stood in the doorway, wearing his terry bathrobe, his arms folded across his chest.

“Ah, perfect timing.” Brill patted the empty chair on the other side of her. “Come sit for a minute and let Vanessa tell you why she can’t sleep.”

Ethan gripped the wheel of his Camry and glided down Main Street, the hazy foothills looking ghostly in the light of the moon. His phone vibrated, and he remembered he hadn’t checked his messages.

He glanced at the display and put the phone to his ear. “Stedman, it’s late, man. What’s up?”

“We need to talk—in person.”

“Something wrong?”

“Yeah. And I need your advice.”

“All right. Why don’t we meet first thing in the morning?”

“Actually I was thinking now—at the outdoor theater in Shady Park.”

“It can’t wait until morning?”

Stedman exhaled into the phone. “No. Look, I’m in a little trouble. I don’t have anyone else to turn to.”

“Can’t you talk to your grandmother?”

“Not about this.”

“If you’re looking for gambling money,” Ethan said, “I’m the wrong guy to—”

“I don’t want money. Just be there—please? I’ve got information Vanessa’s mother needs to know. I may not get another crack at this.”

The phone went dead.

Ethan checked his messages, and they were all from Stedman. What was going on? What kind of weird phone call was that? Why didn’t he take whatever it was to the police? Stedman’s tone sounded urgent. He was asking for help. How could he just leave the guy hanging?

Chapter 29

Ethan
stopped at a red light at Main Street and Second. Beanie’s Coffee Shop was still going strong, but mostly everything else downtown had closed, even tourist shops.

The light turned green, and he drove several more blocks and turned left on Stanton Boulevard. He spotted the gazebo at Shady Park and pulled into a space at the end of the parking lot, noting that his Camry was the only car in the lot. He got out and walked down the stone pathway that led to the outdoor theater, then climbed up in the bleachers and waited in the dark for Stedman.

He took out his phone. He might as well send Vanessa a text message. He decided not to change tonight’s mood by mentioning his covert meeting with Stedman. What could he tell her anyway? He texted the words
I’ll never tire of saying I love you
and hit the Send button.

“There you are.”

Ethan jumped, his hand over his heart. “Good grief, man. Couldn’t you cough or something? I didn’t hear your truck pull up.”

“I know.” Stedman sounded out of breath. “I parked it a couple blocks away and jogged over here. I wanted to be sure I wasn’t followed.”

“What’s going on?” Ethan said. “Why are you being so secretive?”

Stedman sat next to him on the bleacher and leaned forward, his elbows planted on his thighs, his hands clasped between his knees. “I have important information the police chief needs to know.”

“Why didn’t you tell her yourself?” Ethan asked.

“Keep your voice down.” Stedman sat up straight and peered into the darkness. Finally he said, “If I go to the police, there’s a plan in place to frame me.”

“What are you talking about?”

Stedman spoke barely above a whisper, “One of my poker buddies, Grant Wolski, conspired with two other people to kill Tal Davison. And they figured out a way to frame
me
for it, just in case they needed a fall guy.”

“You know who killed Tal?” Ethan grabbed his shirt with both hands. “Then you know who killed my cousin! Who was it? Tell me right now!”

“Shhh! Just hear me out. I need your help.”

“For what?”

Ethan listened as Stedman told him about losing the poker game and owing Grant sixty thousand dollars.

“I thought I’d died and gone to heaven when I was dealt four jacks. I was so sure I was holding the winning hand that I bet money I didn’t have and couldn’t get. I thought it was odd that Grant trusted me for it, but I didn’t think I’d need it.”

“You were wrong, man. When are you going to get help for your gambling problem?”

“Look, I don’t need a lecture. I’ve got a bigger problem.” Stedman’s voice shook. “I was so desperate to get out of debt with Grant that I agreed to do something really low—actually lower than low.”

Ethan listened as Stedman told him everything that had happened from the time he struck a deal with Grant until he sat in his truck, gun in hand, unable to pull the trigger and kill Tal Davison.

“That’s when two guys in a red truck sped in front of me, shot Tal right where he stood on the sidewalk, and sped away. I panicked and drove off, hoping no one saw me there.”

“Did you get a good look at the two guys?”

Stedman shook his head. “Happened too fast. The passenger did the shooting. I let Grant believe I did it until the police found that college girl shot. Then I confronted him with the truth—that I didn’t have the guts to kill Davison and I sure didn’t kill the girl. He said it was my problem and since I reneged on my end of the bargain, I still owed him the sixty thousand dollars. Said it would go up a thousand bucks a day for every day I didn’t pay.”

“Sounds like a real sweetheart.”

“It was depressing. But after the thirteen-year-old was found dead, and then your cousin was killed, I started to panic. I called Grant and told him I didn’t want all these deaths on my conscience. He said it wasn’t my concern. That’s when I lost it. I told him it
was
my concern, that I had agreed to kill a man to be relieved of my debt—and that someone beat me to it—and now I had a bigger debt piling up
and
a guilty conscience. I told him that’s not what I signed up for. He got quiet, and then did something that caught me completely off guard: He agreed with me. He said we should forget the deal. Forget the debt. And that he didn’t want to hear from me anymore. I could hardly believe it.”

“Just like that?” Ethan said.

“Yeah. Weird, huh? I was so relieved that I stopped worrying about it until the details started to come out. The shooter was described as a young man with dark hair and a beard and mustache. The weapon was a Smith and Wesson semiautomatic pistol. And the police found fingerprints on the gun. It all pointed to me. I had a bad feeling, and I wanted answers.”

Ethan listened as Stedman described his encounter with Grant at Rambo’s.

“He said if I backed off, the cops would never know whose prints were on the gun. But if I told anyone, I was going down for the shootings. None of it made sense, and I didn’t trust him. I couldn’t just sit back and let someone use me as a patsy. I decided to break into his house and see if I could find something that would answer my questions.”

“Did you?”

Stedman raked his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. I hacked into Grant’s computer and found a Special Project folder in his Word documents. Inside was a copy of an email, dated May first, to Grant and some guy named Roy Dupontes—from Win Davison. It said, ‘Meet me in my office at 6:00 p.m. Delete this after reading.’
I also found a detailed memo Grant wrote and emailed to himself about what happened in that meeting.”

“And …?” Ethan said.

Stedman started cracking his knuckles, his hands trembling. He seemed trapped in a moment of silence, as if he were battling with himself about whether or not to continue. Finally he said, “
Win Davison
orchestrated the shootings. He ordered the hit on Tal!”

“What? Why would he kill his own son?”

“He found out Tal wasn’t his biological son. Apparently a guy that Mrs. Davison had an affair with, Paulson McGiver, contacted Win with DNA proof that Tal was McGiver’s son and threatened to expose the truth unless Win paid him a million dollars.”

“So he had Tal
killed?”

“And McGiver. The guy lived in Nashville. I’ll bet if Chief Jessup checks with the Nashville police, she’ll find out he was murdered this month.”

Ethan paused, trying to grasp the magnitude of what Stedman had just told him. “How could Win do that? Tal was the only son he’d ever known. He must’ve had feelings for him.”

“You’d think. But Grant’s memo indicated that Win was disgusted with Tal because he was starting to hedge about taking his rightful place in the family business. Tal told him he was considering the police academy, and Win took it as a slap in the face and an embarrassment to the family. I guess he thought he could save face all the way around if he just had Tal eliminated.”

Ethan wiped the perspiration off his forehead. “That’s the same twisted thinking that drives honor killings.”

“Win went on to remind Grant and Roy that they owed him big and it was payback time. Their orders were to team up and take out Tal and make it look like he was a victim of some drunken hoodlums shooting up the neighborhood. They needed to find someone to frame in case it backfired so the police would never get close to Davison.”

“This is unbelievable. Are you saying you were
it?”

Stedman nodded. “That part wasn’t in Grant’s memo, but I’ve been piecing it together. Grant knew I was on a losing streak and rigged the poker game, knowing full well that if I was dealt four jacks I’d bet big, lose big, and be desperate to make good on the bet and keep my place at the poker table. His offer to cancel the debt if I killed Tal was a ruse so he could set me up.

Ethan shook his head. “Talk about a risk. What was Grant going to do if his plan backfired and the police believed you were set up? Once they started digging, they’d be bound to find out Win Davison was involved.”

“Grant would never let that happen. He could always tell police that he masterminded the hit on Tal to get back at Win Davison for laying off so many of his workers. Frankly, that’s a lot more believable than the truth. A jury would be sympathetic. He’d probably get the minimum.”

“But he would still go to jail.”

“For a while. But Grant loves playing the odds. He didn’t plan on getting caught. That’s why he’s so mad at me for sticking my nose in this.”

“Did you forward Grant’s memo to your computer?”

Stedman sighed. “No, I never thought to do that. I tried to print it out, but the printer jammed just as the cops showed up, and I had to split. There was a lot more to it than I just told you. And when I got home, I wrote down everything I could remember. But I can’t prove any of it.”

“Was there any indication why they killed Drew?”

“Yeah, they thought he might have known about the friction between Tal and his dad, and Win didn’t want to chance that it would ever come up in the police investigation. He said Drew was a liability.”

Ethan tightened his fists and fought the urge to use them on Stedman. “I’m going to the police.”

“No!” Stedman gripped his wrist. “If they think I said anything to you, they’ll kill us both. Grant came by my duplex this morning and threatened me.”

“He threatened to kill you?”

“No. He claims he tried to protect me, and that whatever happens to me now is out of his hands. They’ve already killed five people. What would you think?”

Ethan shoved Stedman and rose to his feet. “I knew your gambling would get you in trouble, but I can’t believe you let yourself get involved in
this
. Why did you call me here? You think I feel better knowing Drew was murdered just because he
might
have known about the conflict Tal had with his dad?”

“No. I thought of a way to take down Davison without losing my life. But I need your help.” Stedman took a folded piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and handed it to Ethan. “I need you to give this to Vanessa’s mother. It’s every detail I can remember from the memo. And tell her about my deal with Grant. You have to persuade her that I’m being framed—and that Win Davison and the others involved can’t know I said anything. They have to believe the conspiracy was uncovered by the
police.”

Ethan stopped at the red light at Cherokee Parkway and had no recollection of driving the last six blocks. Why should he get involved in this? Stedman got himself into this mess. Guys like him would never learn as long as people kept bailing them out. Then again, this was really serious, and there didn’t seem to be another way out. If Stedman went to the police, the plan to frame him would be set in motion. He would go to jail, and Davison would get away with killing Drew.

Ethan looked in his rearview mirror for the umpteenth time. He wasn’t being followed. There was hardly a car on the road. No one knew he had met with Stedman. Or that he was the only other person besides the conspirators who knew Win Davison was behind the shootings.

Ethan considered Stedman’s plan and tried to be objective. Even if Ethan agreed to go to Brill and tell her everything, could she act on it? Would she? Would she be willing to arrest Win Davison and make him believe the
police
uncovered the conspiracy? Could she even find enough evidence to charge Davison? And if she did, wouldn’t his defense attorneys have him out on bail within hours? Wouldn’t Davison then rely on the very plan he and Grant and the others had put in place—and let Stedman take the fall? All the evidence pointed to Stedman being the shooter. Any accusations he made against Win Davison or Grant Wolski would be regarded as hearsay as long as there was no evidence to back it up. And hadn’t the conspirators had ample time to destroy whatever evidence they missed before?

Ethan sighed. He really didn’t want to get involved. But could he stay silent, knowing Stedman’s life was on the line? He needed to sleep on it. Pray about it. One thing he knew for sure: He wasn’t going to let Davison get away with killing Drew.

Before she went back to bed, Brill walked upstairs with Vanessa to steal a glimpse of Carter. She walked over to his crib and laid her hand on his back and felt him breathe.