Wrong Number (7 page)

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Authors: Rachelle Christensen

BOOK: Wrong Number
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Her stomach continued to growl, and she sat up slowly from the bed and pushed the nurse’s call button. Within seconds, there was a light knock on the door, and Haskins poked his head in.

“How can I help you?”

“You’re back?” Aubree asked.

“Yes, and your mother should be here shortly,” he said and pointed at the clock above Aubree’s bed. She turned around, surprised to see the hour hand sitting between the four and five. She had slept the better part of the day away.

“No wonder I’m hungry. How soon will my mom be here?”

“Her flight is arriving within the next half hour. Someone will bring her here.”

Cody walked in behind Haskins and pulled up a folding chair next to the bed. Aubree noticed he held a manila envelope marked “Evidence.”

“Aubree, can you tell me the significance of the newspaper you requested from your home?”

Aubree’s smile was bittersweet. She knew they had found the paper and must’ve been puzzling over the writings Devin had left.

“Every morning when Devin reads the paper, he circles names he thinks would be good for our baby. He uses a red pen and sometimes puts a star by them. I wanted to see what names he marked yesterday.”

Haskins raised his eyebrows and then asked, “So he only circles names that would be good for your baby?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, we may have to keep this in evidence a little longer. We’re not sure if the criminal wrote on it.” Cody said.

“Wait. He liked to kid around, too.” She kept her eyes on the envelope. “Sometimes he would circle names of businesses because he knew it would make me laugh. Like last week he circled a Sears ad and wrote Stewart beside it.”

Haskins chuckled. “Well, that explains a lot. Cody, pull out the paper—no wait.”

Aubree sat up and extended her arm. “Please let me see it.”

“You need to remember your husband was shot at the kitchen table. This is just a copy of the newspaper; we have to keep the original for evidence. Are you sure you want to see it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then.” Haskins motioned to Cody to hand her the paper.

He pulled out a sheaf of copies from the envelope and handed them to her. Aubree took them with shaking hands. The papers rattled and scraped against each other, and she tried to keep from gripping them too tight.

She could see several large spots on the papers. Fortunately, the copies had been done in black and white, but she still gasped and held a hand over her mouth. Haskins watched her closely, and Aubree blinked until the moisture in her eyes subsided.

She flipped through a couple before she saw the first circled name. She now understood why Haskins had been laughing. Aubree smiled and read aloud, “Chevron Stewart.” Devin had written “Stewart” in big caps letters with an exclamation point beside it. The ad was for a grand opening for the new gas station in town.

“You can see why we were concerned. We wondered if it was some kind of code,” Haskins said as he sat back in his chair.

“You can keep this copy. I’m very sorry for all you’re going to have to go through, but we’ll do our best to solve this case.” Cody stood, offering his hand.

“Thank you.” Aubree shook Cody’s hand and nodded at Haskins.

“We’ll see you later. I’ll tell someone to bring your meal.” Cody waved as he exited the room. “And don’t worry, we’ve got someone watching this door at all times.”

“Thank you,” she said again, but this time she remembered that the police still considered her life in danger. She looked at the pile of papers in her hands and blinked away oncoming tears. Wiping her eyes, she focused on the black and white pages to see what else Devin had circled.

Sorting through the papers, she smiled at other funny names Devin had marked. She flipped over another page and then stopped. In the bottom right-hand corner, there were two names circled beside each other. Devin had written in small letters in the margin, “If it’s a boy” with an arrow pointing to one and “If it’s a girl” with an arrow pointing to the other. The names were Joshua and Scarlett.

Aubree rubbed her stomach and whispered, “Your daddy wants to know if you like the name Joshua or Scarlett?” She felt a rhythmic movement and looked at her stomach. She smiled at the slight up-and-down pulse. The baby must have been excited over the names because he or she had hiccups.

Folding the copies of the newspaper carefully, Aubree tucked them into her purse and headed for the bathroom to freshen up. At least one memory of Devin would not be tainted by the investigation.

Haskins entered a few minutes later carrying a dinner tray overflowing with food. “I saw the nurse with your tray, so I thought I’d bring this in and see if you needed anything else.”

“I’m feeling a little better now.” Aubree sat in the chair beside the bed. He placed the tray of steaming mashed potatoes, gravy, and chicken in front of her. “Thank you very much.” Picking up her fork, she swirled the mashed potatoes in the gravy.

“Should be just right for an Idaho gal,” Haskins said as he opened the door to leave. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

Aubree nodded. “Nothing beats an Idaho potato.” She smiled and took a bite of the creamy mountain.

She ate her meal slowly and tried to concentrate only on the food and not the circumstances. When she finished, she looked at the clock, wishing away the minutes until her mother would arrive. She got up and
paced around the room a few times, and then she sat down again. She had never been very good at waiting.

What if there was more to Devin’s murder than the wrong number? Aubree sat on the edge of the bed and traced the pattern in the blanket as she thought. What if someone was trying to collect on another gambling debt? She shook her head, ashamed at what her mom must think of Devin.

It had been nearly six months since she’d seen her mom. She and Devin traveled to Idaho to give her mother the good news that they were expecting. The trip was a joyful time, and the only sad moments were when they reflected on how excited Aubree’s father would have been to meet his new grandchild.

Her father had passed away nearly four years ago from heart failure. Aubree wondered for the first time if her Dad would have approved of Devin. Would he have sensed Devin was hiding things? Aubree was disappointed in herself as she remembered her Dad’s admonitions to enjoy life but to keep her eyes wide open so she could always see what was really happening. She promised herself she would do better now and hoped that somehow she could get through this mess.

Aubree walked toward the door and opened it to see Haskins sitting in a folding chair, looking at some files. “Excuse me. I wanted to know if Devin’s family has been contacted.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you earlier that we spoke with them late last night.” He stood and stretched, then continued. “They’re planning on coming to the funeral tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Aubree said. “I had no idea it would be so soon.”

“Uh—with everything going on with the investigation, we’re keeping Devin’s funeral under tight security.”

“But aren’t I supposed to help somehow? Pick out the—” Aubree closed her mouth and squeezed her eyes shut.

“The casket?” Haskins frowned. “I’m sorry this is all so chaotic. Someone was supposed to bring some stuff by for you to look at. But it’s probably been misplaced in the shuffle.” Haskins offered his arm to Aubree. “Why don’t we walk down the hall and see if we can find some information for you.”

She nodded and took Haskins’ arm. She knew this was real, but it was so horrible that it was like living a nightmare.

“Part of the problem is the FBI will be handling the major details of the case from here on out. They’ll have a specialist to work with you— might be Agent Edwards.”

Aubree raised her eyebrows and gave him a confused glance.

Haskins swallowed. “I think you’ll be briefed on some new information soon.”

“Oh.” She didn’t even want to imagine what else the police could’ve discovered that she needed to know.

She followed Haskins the rest of the way down the hall without saying anything. They picked up a packet of information from a local funeral home, and Aubree gripped it tightly and shook her head when Haskins asked her if she wanted someone to go through it with her. She returned to her room and looked at the details of Devin’s funeral.

The California Bureau of Investigation had helped to arrange everything. All she had to do was mark which casket and lining she wanted and check off a few more questions. There were a few fliers on bereavement and a local support group that Aubree looked over and then tossed into the garbage. If she were to be placed in a witness protection program, she wouldn’t be able to talk about her former life with Devin. A heavy weight descended on her, and for the hundredth time in the last twenty-four hours, she swallowed a lump of tears.

The click of the door handle startled her, and she looked up and wiped her eyes as her mother entered the room.

“Aubree!” Madeline Nelson dropped her bags and ran to her daughter. She crouched beside Aubree’s chair and hugged her.

Somewhere in the midst of tears and heaving sobs, Aubree was able to get one word out. “Mom.”

After Aubree once again drained her reservoir of tears, she held the packet of funeral information out to her mom.

“When your father died, I hoped it would be a long time before I had to attend another funeral for a family member.” Madeline wiped her eyes with a tissue.

At age fifty-seven, Madeline Nelson was still a striking woman. The reddish-blonde hair Aubree had inherited from her was now a lovely white, and she had the same clear blue eyes as her daughter.

Madeline looked through the fliers and sank onto a folding chair.
“Honey, I don’t know how, but you’re going to get through this.” She still held herself as she always had, with a commanding posture and confident air. Even through her tear-stained wrinkles, she exuded strength, and Aubree planned to cling to that for all she was worth.

“Mom, they’re going to put me in a witness protection program.”

“I know. An FBI agent briefed me on the way from the airport.”

“They told you everything?” Aubree raised her eyebrows.

“No. I’m not supposed to ask you too many questions either. But in any case, I’m here now, and I want to help you.” She straightened the papers in her lap and once more tried to focus. “Devin was fond of this type of wood, wasn’t he.” She pointed to a dark mahogany casket Aubree had also been looking at.

“That’s pretty. Do you think this material would be good?” She stopped and put a hand over her mouth—not wanting to believe she was having this conversation with her mother. It was horrible, but there was no avoiding it. Either she would be part of her husband’s funeral, or she wouldn’t. Even though Devin had deceived her, she still felt she knew him better than anyone else.

They finalized all the funeral details, and then Aubree told her mom what she could about the day before. Edwards had counseled her on the importance of leaving out fine details like Tidmore’s name and connections with a uniform. He said her mother could be approached again and unknowingly provide evidence that might help the killer.

“Mom, I think the FBI knows more about the case, and they’re trying to decide how much to tell me. I got the idea from Officer Haskins that they might brief me later.”

“Sweetie, you’ve got to do what they tell you. You have to keep yourself and my grandchild safe,” Madeline said.

“I know, but it’s so bizarre. It seems like they should be able to figure things out before I have to go somewhere else to have my baby. I wish I could come and stay with you.”

“That’s what I said, but the Agent—I think his name is Edwards— pointed out that the men who came to my house were not officers of the law, but criminals.” Madeline squeezed her hands together. “If they could find me that fast, they must have ample resources.”

Aubree pictured her mother’s home in rural Idaho, twenty miles from the nearest grocery store. It was unbelievable that they’d found her
so easily, and Aubree was thankful her mom hadn’t been harmed. It was hard to imagine that so much could happen, that so many lives could be placed in danger, from just one wrong number.

S
IX

I
T WAS NEARLY SEVEN
o’clock when a nurse entered the room, pulling an extra hospital bed. “This is for your mom.”

“Thank you very much,” Aubree said.

“We thought you’d appreciate that, Mrs. Nelson,” Edwards said as he entered the room. “Being in a private care facility does have a few perks.”

“Oh, thanks. You’re a dear,” Madeline said.

“It’s not the Hilton, but you’ll be safe here until some of this blows over.” He fumbled with a manila envelope in his hand as if considering what to say. “The funeral is scheduled for tomorrow at eleven o’clock, but you’ll both have to be briefed before then.”

“Why?” Aubree asked.

Edwards motioned to Madeline. “Because she knows more than we’re letting anyone else know. We need this to look like a robbery gone bad. We’re all working non-stop on leads, but we can’t let the press get hold of this until we have more information.”

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