Читать книгу Forgotten Pieces - Tyler Snell Anne - Страница 13

Chapter Five

“It’s a theory,” Matt reminded the sheriff. He was standing in the living room, phone to his ear, and looking down at Maggie’s key ring. After she’d become convinced of what had happened, he’d had to reel her in a bit. She’d excused herself to shower, not that he blamed her with dried blood caked on her head and a hospital stay that had extended through the night. Now he was bringing Billy up to speed. “But I have to agree it may be right on the money. I mean it looks like she just got up and got out. It’s not adding up.”

“Then we must not have the right numbers,” Billy said. The background noise of the department filtered through the phone. It reminded Matt that he hadn’t been home since he left for work yesterday. “I’ll keep things going on my end while Ansler runs point on the investigation.”

“You’re giving lead to Ryan?” Matt asked, surprised. He was head detective in the sheriff’s department and had been employed with them for four years longer than Ryan Ansler. Not to say that Matt didn’t like the man. He was just more invested in figuring out what had happened thanks to his friendship with Dwayne. Which, he realized two seconds too late, might have been the problem.

“You need to figure out Ms. Carson’s part in all of this,” Billy said. “Whether or not she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, at the right place at the wrong time, or did exactly what she wanted to do. Finding out what happened with her is the key to solving this case. Trying to juggle everything at the same time won’t help Dwayne. Getting answers about what happened at that house might. Let Ansler and me cover the other details and questions. You focus on Carson.”

Billy was right. Like always.

Matt ended the call and decided to explore his surroundings while he was alone. It was less curiosity and more of an attempt to keep his mind from settling until he could ask Maggie some real questions. Ones that she did have answers for. Like the investigation into Erin’s accident.

He imagined his late wife as he often did. Years later and he could still trace every curve of her face in his mind. Bright eyes, button nose, all smiles. He felt more at home in those snatches of memories than he ever had since the accident. Matt didn’t know if that was because he’d moved on or that he hadn’t.

Depending on the day he could give an answer one way or the other.

Today, though?

He wasn’t sure.

The inside of Maggie’s house was surprisingly cozy, all things considered. Beige and white, linens, blue and yellow pops of color and various pictures of Cody, herself and a few people Matt didn’t recognize. He didn’t know what he had expected of the ex-reporter—maybe newspapers and magazines scattered around or a bulletin board filled with pictures all connected by strings—but normal hadn’t been it.

He moved from the living room to what he guessed was a converted dining room currently being used as an office. At least this room looked more like the speed of the Maggie he remembered. Surrounding her computer was a sea of notebooks, papers and empty coffee mugs. A small filing cabinet was tucked next to the desk, partially hidden by a wooden side table standing over it. Matt walked closer to inspect it. There was a lock on the bottom drawer.

A treadmill was tucked in the corner and against the left wall, while a small bookcase stood on the right and seemed to be dedicated to Cody. Colorful spines filled the openings while toys were interspersed between some of the covers. Matt paused at one and smiled. It was a toy cop car.

From there his attention roamed over the pictures hanging on the wall in this room. A collage of more unfamiliar faces hung above the desk while a picture of a newborn Cody sat in the center. He’d had a lot of hair as a baby and was swaddled in a blue blanket, filling up the entire image.

And then there Erin was. Heralding a memory of the first time they’d talked about having kids. He’d just joined the Riker County Sheriff’s Department and she was working through nursing school. They’d decided to wait until their life became less hectic.

Now here he was, years later, standing in Maggie Carson’s house wondering what his own child might look like.

It was another question he didn’t have an answer to. However, it shepherded in a thought that had been in the back of his mind as he moved around the house, looking at pictures.

“Investigating and snooping are separated by the finest of lines, Detective Walker. I thought you of all people would know when you’re toeing it.”

Maggie came to a stop at Matt’s side. A sweet aroma wafted off her, filling his senses before he’d known what hit him. Shampoo or soap or perfume. He didn’t know which but it didn’t matter. It caught him off guard all the same.

“Don’t worry, I know the urge to not answer a question is hard to resist,” she continued. “Did you finally get some insight into me? Find anything interesting, Mr. Keen Eye?”

She was teasing him. There was a small smile pulling up the corners of her lips. It caught his attention and held it for a few beats too long. It also applied pressure to the idea that he despised the woman next to him. That she was nothing more than a pain in the ass. His ass.

Maggie put a fist on her hip. She must not have liked his slow response time.

“Oh, come on, Detective,” she said more harshly. “Make an observation about me based on what you’ve seen. Wow me with your skills.”

“It’s not as loud as I thought it would be,” he started, rising to the challenge. “The house I mean. With how you present yourself in public and one-on-one I assumed this place would be...more chaotic. Instead, it’s pretty calm. Ordered. Except in here.”

He motioned to the desk and the scattered papers around her computer.

“But I bet my badge that all of those are just for show. I can’t imagine someone like you would leave any important documents out like that. Even in your own house. I imagine those are tucked inside that filing cabinet.” Matt motioned to the coffee cups next. “I also assume you work at home, considering the amount of coffee cups on your desk and the treadmill. I bet you use it when you get tired of sitting around all day. Unless I’m wrong and you work late nights instead.” He walked over to the toy cop car. “And if I had to take a stab in the dark about this, I would bet you tried to talk Cody out of this toy, explaining that cops are too by the book for your liking.”

Maggie’s eyebrow stayed high. She raised her hands in mock defense.

“Your words, not mine,” she said. “But anyone could have drawn the same conclusions if they’d just walked through the house. Especially if they already knew me or, at least, of me. It’s not a hard stretch to see a treadmill and coffee cups in an office and guess the person works at home.”

There was no smugness there but Matt did recognize a challenge when he heard one. Maggie was baiting him to prove himself.

So he did.

Dropping any hint of a smile from his lips he walked back over to her desk. He pointed to the baby picture of Cody. Her smile wavered before he even spoke.

“You adopted Cody,” he said simply. “The house is filled with pictures of him as a toddler but this is the only one I’ve seen of him as a baby. And it’s cropped, which means you weren’t the one holding him.”

Like a candle that had been lit, Matt could almost see her intention to tease him start to burn away. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I suppose if you make enough guesses you’re bound to get one right.” Her smile had dwindled down to barely there but he wasn’t reading anger from her. “The first time I met Cody he was three.” She motioned to the picture of him as a baby. “That was the only picture that had been taken of him until he was placed in foster care. I make sure he knows that even though I wasn’t there, I still like to look at how cute my baby boy was.”

“He knows he’s adopted, then.”

Maggie nodded.

“There’s nothing wrong with being adopted,” she said, resolute. “And I wanted to make sure he knew that at an early age. I’m sure he’ll have more questions when he’s older but so far, he’s never had any problems calling me Mom. Even if I tell him it’s a little too formal sounding. But he’s a mini genius so I guess that comes with the territory.”

This time the smile grew. Love. Pure and genuine.

Matt might not have known Maggie Carson as well as he’d once thought but in that moment he knew one thing for certain. She loved her son with all of her heart.

He opened his mouth to say something when his ringtone went off. The caller ID read “Ryan Ansler.”

“That was fast,” Matt muttered. He looked at Maggie before pressing Accept. “Give me a minute.”

* * *

THE DRIED BLOOD had washed away easily enough in the shower but that didn’t mean Maggie wanted to push her luck by blow-drying her hair. The gash left by the bat wasn’t bad enough to need stitches but it was still throbbing enough to be uncomfortable. She stood across from her reflection in her en suite, trying to see if the past two days were showing.

She felt tired and her legs were a little sore. The former could have been attributed to the sleep she’d gotten off and on in the hospital but the latter was troubling. Matt had been right about her working from home and using the treadmill when she felt too cooped up or restless. She wasn’t ready to knock out any marathons but over the past few years she’d gotten into fairly decent shape.

So why were her legs sore?

Had she walked around a lot the day before?

Had she run?

Maggie raked a hand through her hair and blew out a sigh. She’d always loved puzzles. Mysteries had to be solved. Questions had to be answered. That was all she’d ever wanted to do when she was little. Find the truth that people—bad people—tried to hide.

But now that the new mystery involved her?

She hadn’t asked to lose a day’s worth of memory. And well, she didn’t like the feeling.

Just as Matt hadn’t asked to lose his wife. Or have Maggie start her own investigation during what must have been the worst low of his life like some dog after a bone.

Again she sighed.

“You in here?”

Maggie straightened as the detective called into her room. One last look at her reflection and she nodded.

“Yeah,” she answered, walking out to meet him in the hall. His eyes were wide. Something had happened. “Was that the sheriff?”

“No, Detective Ansler. But we do have some new information.”

Again, Maggie searched his expression. It was troubled. The cold knot that had formed in her stomach earlier started to expand.

“And I’m guessing it’s not the answers to all of our questions.”

Matt shook his head.

“CSU reported in,” he started. “Your prints and Dwayne’s were found on the bat. A partial print was found on the inside of the screen door near the handle. And that’s it.”

Maggie felt her eyebrow rise.

“What do you mean that’s it?”

“I mean those are the only prints in the entire house.”

Her eyes widened.

“And that’s not normal.”

Matt shook his head. Again, he didn’t like what he was saying.

“No, that’s not normal for a lived-in residence,” he replied. “Unless Dwayne has a serious case of OCD, that house should have been covered in his prints at the very least. Which means one of three possibilities.”

Maggie held up her index finger, much like the sheriff had done earlier in the hospital.

“One, that Dwayne wiped down the entire place after he was beaten into unconsciousness.” Maggie held up another finger. “Two, I wiped the place down before I did my own unconscious dance.”

Matt held up his finger in lieu of her ticking off her third.

“Three, whoever attacked both of you wiped the place down, erasing any evidence linking him or her to the house. And to you and Dwayne.”

That cold in the pit of Maggie’s stomach was starting to unravel to the point of becoming flat. She had no sarcasm or joke to replace it. There was no denying she was caught in the middle of something.

And she needed to figure out what that something was fast.

Maggie gave the detective one decisive nod. He must have seen the intent in her eyes. Ever so slightly he tilted his head to the side. The human way to silently question something that was a mystery.

Under different circumstances, she would have liked to have been a mystery that the handsome Detective Matt Walker tried to solve, but now she was afraid the question mark she had been branded with was dangerous.

“Okay, then we only have one option.” She brushed past the man and headed for the living room. He followed her, his stare burrowing a hole in every step she took. He kept quiet as she grabbed her purse and dumped its contents on the floor next to the couch. “Let’s figure out what I did yesterday.”

His eyes didn’t leave hers for a moment. Then he nodded.

“I agree. I also want to call in CSU to dust for prints here. They’re still working on the partial, but considering how quickly you appear to have left yesterday, maybe if you did have company, we can at least find out who it was.”

“Good idea.”

Maggie was still trying to ignore how freaked out it made her feel to know someone or something had spooked her enough to run from her own home. Her eyes started to skirt over the various pieces of her life that had made up the inside of her purse when she realized Matt wasn’t moving.

Maggie looked up and met his eyes.

Trying to solve another mystery.

But not one that had to do with her.

“After I make this call you’re going to answer a few questions before we do anything else.” His voice was cold. She could almost swear she felt its chill from where she sat on the floor. He wasn’t going to let her off the hook this time. She’d run out of wiggle room.

“Sounds fair.”

Matt pulled out his phone but kept his eyes on her when he spoke again.

“And we’ll start with why you think my wife was murdered.”