Deadly Homecoming. Barbara Phinney
and she swallowed. Why was he here?
“How did you sleep?” he asked when she reached him.
“Better than I expected. I’m no worse for wear now. Why are you here?”
He frowned and wet his lips. “I need to talk to Constable Long. You mentioned that you’re afraid of heights. The gazebo is very close to the cliff, almost to the point of falling into the bay.”
She gasped. “I hadn’t thought of that. But do you honestly think Constable Long would believe you?”
“Is there anyone in Toronto who can verify your fear?”
She’d kept her fear tucked away. The company that hired her was always looking for excuses to downsize, and a fear of heights like the ones in the plant would be grounds enough.
The closeness of the buildings in the city actually kept her acrophobic feelings at bay. Plus, she liked her solitude. It had been her best friend for a long time. Now, though…She shook her head. “Not really.”
He looked grim. “Still, he needs to know.”
She shut her eyes. “Danny must have known his killer.” She shivered. “I can still see him in my mind. The way he looked in the gazebo. There didn’t seem to be a struggle.”
“Try not to dwell on that.”
She glanced around. “But I know what the islanders are thinking. Being poisoned—if that’s how he died—doesn’t feel like a violent crime, and women prefer to kill in less messy ways.” She turned to him. “But I didn’t do it.”
She gauged his reaction. He didn’t appear to be afraid of her. And yet, he seemed determined to keep his distance.
As if to confirm her observation, he folded his arms tightly and stepped back. “So what brought you here today?”
“I needed to find out when I can have my knapsack back. I have no clothes, no money. Surely they’re done with it.”
“Didn’t Constable Long tell you he’d drop it by?”
She glanced around at the busy station. The glass entrance doors opened onto the back parking lot, which was packed now with patrol cars. A couple of police officers she assumed were from the mainland stood talking to people whose faces were old, but familiar. She turned back to Lawson. “I want to prove that I’m not guilty. I want them to know I’m willing to cooperate.”
I want to show you that I’m innocent.
Peta couldn’t say that. Even acknowledging that she’d thought it was ridiculous. Lawson was living on this island, taking some kind of self-imposed downtime. He’d chosen Northwind. Enough reason to steer clear of him.
Still, did he believe she was innocent? Her heart beat fast at the thought.
“Hey!”
They turned. Peta watched as Tom Kimbly, who operated the hardware store now that his father had retired, hurried down toward Lawson. “Yes?”
Tom glanced down at her. Peta felt the ice in his look hit her, and turned away. It had been Tom’s old car she’d vandalized once, on a stupid dare.
She’d been so immature, so foolish and fighting so much in her life. She should just offer her apologies to Tom and, after all these years, somehow start to rebuild those bridges she had burned.
Tom turned his back on her and faced Lawson. “What brings you here?”
“I need to see Constable Long.”
Kimbly took his arm. “Lawson, you’re a good guy. Don’t be getting strung along by her stories, all right?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I heard you left the café on accounts of her, and I can tell you, she’s not worth it. She’s bad news.”
Lawson’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t judge people by what others say, Tom. And I would have thought you’d have figured that out by now.”
The man looked uncomfortable. Then, obviously feeling foolish, Tom said, “Everyone knows she was involved in Danny’s murder. The police here wouldn’t suspect her if they didn’t have a good reason.”
Peta turned and walked away, choosing to ignore the man rather than confront him. If Lawson said anything more to Tom, she didn’t hear it. She spotted Constable Long walking toward her, and straightened her shoulders.
“Nope, I ain’t seen him in a long time. I can’t tell you no more.”
Peta stopped and spun. Those words. Who had spoken them? At the end of the hall, Lawson stood frowning at her. Tom Kimbly had already left the building. Through the glass doors beyond, she could see him hurrying around the corner, probably to return to his store.
All the offices and rooms were filled, with the extra police taking statements from every adult on the island, it seemed. Some doors were open, some closed, but all the conversations penetrated the thin walls.
“He was bad, he was.”
That voice, again. Now she was sure it was a man. Peta pivoted. Where did it come from?
“What’s wrong?”
She looked up as Lawson approached. “That voice! The same as last night. Whoever warned me off the island is here in the building!”
FIVE
“What are you talking about?” Lawson shook his head, not following her words. “Who called you last night?”
Peta took his arm and led him to one side of the narrow corridor. She held her forefinger to her mouth, and cocked her head as if listening.
What was going on? He felt himself tense up, and knew she had done the same. Her fingers were digging into his arm.
Then, as suddenly as she had dragged him to one side, she sagged and relaxed.
“What’s going on, Peta? Somebody called last night? What did they say?”
She rubbed her right temple. “Last night, after you left, I got a phone call. He told me to get off the island.”
“What exactly did he say?”
She repeated the conversation, and how confusing it seemed to her. “I couldn’t guess if it was a man or a woman, but the person is in this building right now. I just heard the same voice! It was very distinct.”
Lawson scanned the interior of the station. Like most tiny police stations, there were only a few offices, but the extra rooms and cubicles were now packed with people. Half the population of the island was here being questioned, it seemed, and with several officers from the mainland, the whole place was a beehive of activity. He’d seen Pastor Martin in one room a minute ago, and the doctor in another, plus Jane from the grocery store. Her voice was gravelly enough to pass as a man’s.
But she was hardly the type to warn Peta off the island.
With a firm grip on Peta’s arm, he captured her attention. “You said the caller mentioned drugs. Danny was involved with drugs with Marcano, so that can’t be a coincidence. You have to tell Constable Long.”
“Tell me what?”
They both turned. Constable Long stood there, calm and curious, papers in his hands and a frown on his craggy, middle-aged face.
“I need to talk to you,” Peta said, rubbing her temples again. “I need my belongings, and I just want to say that if you want to interrogate me again, I’m only too happy to oblige. I can’t prove that I only just arrived on this island, but I know that I didn’t kill Danny.”
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