Crime & Passion Page 8

  Donovan shrugged. No sense denying it—the proof was in the file. “With all due respect, they deserved it, sir.”

  “Maybe they did, but I can’t endorse vigilante justice just because you have a badge.” Stone slapped the desk. “They were about to take your shield in LA, Andrews. One more screw up and you were out of there, even before you shot the kid.”

  Donovan flinched, pushing away the memory of that day he been forced to extinguished the young boy’s life. He wondered who Chief Stone spoke to in LA. Donovan’s old Captain would’ve never given up information about the complaints. They were of like minds when it came to dickwads using kids as their personal punching bags. Someone new must be in charge.

  “Knowing this information,” Stone continued, “it’s not such a stretch to believe you killed Frank Johnson.”

  Donovan met Stone’s eyes, challenging him. “You better have more proof than a damn name written on a wall. That’ll never hold up.”

  “Where’s your cell phone?” Stone asked quietly.

  “I told you this morning, I lost my phone. I used it last week when Eric and I went to the hardware store.” Donovan felt his anger rising and struggled to keep his tone level. It didn’t help knowing Chief Stone ordered Donovan’s partner to spy on him. “Remember? We picked up those kids for stealing the toolset. I called their moms, but haven’t seen my phone since.”

  “And you haven’t looked for it?”

  He shrugged. “You know I hate that damn thing. You’re always interrupting my time off if I carry it, so I haven’t bothered. Call the store. They probably have it locked up in their office.”

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “Enter,” Stone hollered.

  Eric walked into the room, darting a wide-eyed stare at Donovan before facing Stone. He walked to the desk, placing Donovan’s car keys on the pile of papers. He pulled an evidence bag from his pocket and set that down too. “It was there, as you suspected, sir.”

  Donovan looked through the clear plastic of the bag. Shit. His phone must have been in the car the entire time. Now, it looked like he lied. He couldn’t remember ever seeing it after the store. He’d been sure he left it on the counter.

  “Where was it?” Stone asked.

  Eric glanced at Donovan again, and the look in his eyes told Donovan all he needed to know. His partner had lost faith in him and thought he was a liar.

  Eric shook his head. “It was in the center console, right where he always keeps it.”

  “Good work,” Stone said. “You can go home. Check on Madeline Scott on the way. I promised her police protection.”

  Donovan still didn’t like the idea of Eric being alone with Maddie. At least she wouldn’t let him into the apartment.

  “Sure thing, Chief.” Eric turned, not meeting Donovan’s eyes as he walked out.

  Donovan shot from his chair as soon as Eric left, decided it would be best to face this head on. “What’s the meaning of this? Why are you worried about whether or not my phone was in the car?”

  “I need your gun, and I suggest you hire a lawyer.”

  “Are you charging me with something?”

  Stone shook his head. “Not yet. Sure you don’t want to lawyer up before we talk?”

  “You really suspect me?” Donovan asked. “But I’m innocent.”

  “Remember when I told you Stephanie said Frank received a call shortly before his murder?”

  Donovan nodded, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  “Didn’t you think we’d trace it? Maybe you figured no one would find out he got a call that night.” Stone shrugged. “We might not have, if Stephanie hadn’t said something.”

  “I didn’t make that call.”

  “I need your gun,” Stone repeated, pointing to the corner of his desk.

  Donovan took the .40 caliber out of the holster at his side. It had been twenty-one years since he went without a handgun. The weapon was a part of him. He depressed the button to release the clip, ensured there wasn’t a bullet in the chamber, and placed the Glock 22 on the desk, setting the clip on top of it. “Want my shield too?”

  “Not yet. Consider yourself on enforced vacation. You’re suspended, but I’ll allow you to use your paid time off.”

  Donovan knew he should feel grateful. Chief Stone could have demanded his shield and thrown him in lockup for at least twenty-four hours. He didn’t need strong evidence for that. Despite what Donovan did to Suzie, the man remained fair. “Thanks.”

  Maybe Maddie was right to suspect someone of framing him. He never called that asshole. Hell, if Donovan had called on Frank, it would have been in person. And he would’ve used his fists, not a baton and nylon rope.

  Donovan wracked his memory, trying to think back to the hardware store. He remembered setting the phone on the counter after calling the second kid’s mom. Lots of people shopped there. Half the town passed through that store daily. Anyone could have snagged it. Donovan was so averse to carrying the thing, he hadn’t even missed it until the following afternoon. Depending on how long it sat on the counter, any number of people would have had access to it.

  Why would they steal it? That was the million-dollar question. He had a banner on the screen with his name, since he lost it so often. Anyone who happened upon it would know the phone belonged to him.

  “I rarely lock the squad car when I’m on a call,” Donovan said slowly, trying to piece together his defense, praying Stone listened. “If someone is trying to frame me, like Maddie suggested, they could’ve called Frank and returned the phone afterward without me knowing.”

  Stone ran his hands through his graying hair. “Even if you called Frank, that doesn’t prove you killed him. That’s why you’re keeping your shield. Even the Maddie connection is highly circumstantial.”

  At least Chief realized that. Donovan had to be grateful for any break he received at this point. “So what am I supposed to do?”

  “I’ll have one of the guys drive you home. You lay low until we figure things out. I won’t arrest you unless I have to. Looks bad for all of us.”

  “Guess Eric Sanders is advancing rank quicker than he thought. Just a month-old rookie, and he’ll already take command of my police cruiser.” Donovan laughed, without any humor in it. Twenty-one years as an officer might be for nothing, all because Donovan enjoyed beating the shit out of men who deserved it.

  ***

  Madeline looked through the peephole in the door, her anxiety level rising when she saw Eric Sanders on the other side. She stared quietly for several breaths, wondering if she should answer or pretend to be gone.

  “Miss Scott? Chief Stone asked me to check on you. Is everything okay?”

  Of course, Eric had only come to check on her. She’d let her imagination run wild today. He wasn’t a killer. She’d heard Eric just finished at the police academy before coming to work here. Why would he become an officer if he wanted to kill people instead of protect them? She felt embarrassed for suggesting Eric might be the culprit.

  She kept the new security lock on and cracked the door open. “Everything’s fine, Officer Sanders. I appreciate you coming by, but I’m quite safe.”

  He regarded her through the two-inch opening. “Mind letting me in to have a look around? I’d feel better if I checked your windows and stuff.”

  Madeline shook her head, smiling to soften her refusal. “I appreciate the offer, but Donovan took care of that already. You have a good night, okay?”

  Eric closed his eyes briefly, a pained look crossing his face. “After the shocks I’ve had today, I’d feel better if I checked myself. You can never be too careful.”

  She looked at Eric, comparing him to the person on the beach the other evening. He couldn’t be taller than five foot six. She had a hard time estimating the killer’s height, but Eric seemed too short. In any event, he didn’t seem capable of overpowering a strong, muscular man like Frank Johnson.

  “What shocked you today?” she asked, hoping
Eric hadn’t noticed her studying him.

  “Some people around here aren’t what I thought they were.” He shrugged.

  Hmmm...cryptic. Not particularly helpful. “Care to enlighten me?”

  He shook his head. “Police stuff. You understand, ma’am.”

  Madeline nearly laughed. Ma’am—as if she were an ancient granny instead of a thirty-three-year-old woman. Eric couldn’t be more than a few years younger than she was. However, she was sure he didn’t mean to be offensive, but respectful.

  “I won’t press you,” Madeline said. “As far as you entering my home, I have to decline. Don’t worry. You’ve done your duty. Tell Chief Stone I’m safe and sound.”

  Eric leaned against the doorframe. “Can I ask you something of a personal nature?”

  “Depends how personal.”

  Eric’s fair skin flushed crimson. “Nothing like that. It’s just I’m new to town, Miss Scott, and people say you are too.”

  “Yes, I’ve been here two months,” she agreed, wondering where this conversation was heading.

  He cleared his throat, giving Madeline the impression he felt self-conscious. “Do you think we could get a coffee sometime?” he asked. “I mean, when it’s safe for you to be in public again, after the case is closed. Everyone in town knows everyone else, and I’m having a hard time being accepted here.”

  Madeline looked into Eric’s kind eyes. Something in them spoke to the loneliness Madeline used to feel. It was amazing how people treated her now versus when she was fat. She never had friends back then.

  Even people who knew what she once looked like were sometimes cruel after she lost the weight. Cameron used to make her feel as though she was lucky he deigned to date someone who used to be Maddie McFatty. ‘After all,’ he’d often reminded her, ‘you could pork back up any second.’

  Madeline spent much of her life in a lonely funk, wishing for more friends.

  “Going out for coffee might be nice. We’ll see after things settle down.” She didn’t want to commit to anything just yet. Then again, she also didn’t want to crush him. “Thanks for checking on me, Officer—”

  “Eric, please.”

  She nodded once. “Eric. Have a good night.”

  “Goodnight, Madeline.”

  He walked to the elevator, but turned back before pressing the button. “Are you really hung up on Donovan? I heard he’s got you in his sights, and I’m a little worried about you.”

  Madeline grinned. Was he already trying to offer friendly advice? She got enough of that from Brandon and Lindsey. “Don’t worry. I can handle him.”

  “But you don’t know him. Not really.” He crossed his arms, his eyes piercing into hers. “I hate to say much, but you know he’s not the most trustworthy of people, right?”

  “I’ve heard the gossip.” Madeline tightened her mouth, trying to stay patient with her new ‘friend.’ “I don’t really listen to that kind of stuff, Eric, if I can help it. I do appreciate your concern, and I promise to be careful, but Donovan’s not a bad guy.”

  “You believe that, even knowing how he treats women?” Eric raised an eyebrow, clearly questioning Madeline’s judgment.

  She shrugged. “Maybe he just hasn’t met the right one yet.”

  “And you think that’s you.” Eric snorted. “Why don’t you talk to a few other people who thought that and see how it worked out for them?”

  “I don’t want to be the right one for him.” Madeline no longer cared that her voice sharpened. She was tired of everyone warning her—especially coming from someone who didn’t even know her. “I’m not looking for forever anymore,” she said. “I just want to have fun.”

  Eric took a step back. “I didn’t know you wanted to be one of Donovan’s floozies. Guess I misjudged you.”

  He spoke the words with disgust, surprising her. He acts like I confessed a desire to sell myself at a strip club on Fridays.

  “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded,” Madeline said, “but you don’t need to worry about me. I just got out of a bad situation with my ex. I’m not looking for a new man, just new friends.”

  She mentally crossed her fingers. That statement was nearly true, except when it came to Donovan. She was still considering the one-night stand option.

  “Just be careful, Madeline, especially right now. Trust no one.”

  “Do you suspect Donovan of being the killer?” She felt a little thrown by this. She knew Stone believed it, but if Donovan’s own partner thought he might have done it, Donovan didn’t stand a chance.

  His hazel eyes bored into hers. “I won’t talk about the case with you. Besides, you’re the one who saw the killer.”

  “But I didn’t see him very well. Why do you suspect Donovan?”

  A door slammed somewhere in the hallway and Eric looked away from her. He was silent for several seconds and the elevator pinged, heralding its arrival. Apparently the person in the hallway took it, because Eric returned his attention to her.

  “I never said I suspect Donovan,” he said softly. “I have to wonder though, why do you think he did it?”

  “Me?” Madeline shook her head sharply. How dare he turn this around on me? I’m defending Donovan. “I don’t think he’s guilty.”

  “Until all the evidence comes to light, maybe you shouldn’t trust anyone.” Eric raised an eyebrow. “The killer did make a threat against you, Madeline. I’d hate to see you hurt.”

  A chill touched against Madeline’s spine. He had a point. “Is there more evidence I don’t know about?”

  “Goodnight, Madeline. Lock your doors. Double check your windows.”

  Eric turned away from the door and soon left the small sliver Madeline could see through the crack in the door.

  She shut and locked it, returning to her chair to stare out the window at the ocean below. Was Eric implying they had more evidence against Donovan, or was that just a general warning? She couldn’t tell. If there was more evidence against Donovan, had she misjudged things all along? If Donovan had gone off the deep end and started killing people, it would make sense to gain her confidence and find out how much she saw that night on the beach.

  She thought about the shiny new lock Donovan installed. If he made a copy of her key and could unlock the deadbolt, how difficult would it be to pop the screws holding the latch in place? Her guess was not very.

  Madeline drew her legs onto the chair, hugging her knees to her body. This was all crazy thinking. Donovan couldn’t be the killer. Paranoia had a habit of taking over when driven by fear, but Donovan wasn’t a bad person, just shitty boyfriend material.

  You believe that, Madeline. Don’t second-guess yourself.

  Then again, if she were wrong, she’d given a killer full access to her house. What else might he have installed besides bars on the windows?

  ***

  Madeline’s phone rang three hours later. She’d fully exhausted herself searching for a hidden camera, or a bomb, or—she didn’t know what else. Anything small enough she wouldn’t easily notice it. She felt silly when she came up empty. Knowing a killer wanted her silenced would panic any girl.

  She did trust Donovan, but she’d needed to make sure.

  She snagged her phone off the counter before it could go to voice mail and swiped the screen to answer it. “Hello?”

  “Hey, Maddie. Everything okay tonight?”

  His voice sent a shiver down her spine. She doubted he intentionally deepened it to the level of sex god—it probably came natural.

  “Hi, Donovan. I’ve been thinking about you all afternoon.”

  He chuckled. “What a coincidence, I’ve had a hard time concentrating on anything besides you, too.”

  She felt a blush creep up her body. Probably best not to admit she couldn’t get him off her mind because she worried he placed a bomb in her apartment.

  “How’d things go with Chief Stone?” she asked.

  “Not good.” He sighed. “I’m suspended from the force. I think yo
u might have been right about someone trying to frame me.”

  “Did something else happen?”

  “Frank received a phone call right before his death,” Donovan paused and his heavy breaths made a whooshing in her ear. “It came from my cell phone. The working theory is I called him, convincing him to meet me on the beach. Apparently I killed him while Eric thought I was in the bathroom.”

  “But they didn’t arrest you?” Madeline felt lightheaded. No wonder Eric tried to warn her. That was a stronger piece of evidence than the coincidence of a name on the wall.

  “Not yet. I gotta catch the real killer somehow.”

  “Maybe you should come over here.” Madeline’s body lurched with desire at that thought. “I mean to make a list of your enemies and figure out who would do this to you.” Not for anything else.

  “I’d love to, Maddie, but I was pissed and polished off a six-pack to make myself feel better. Can we brainstorm in the morning?”

  Well, she could offer to go to his house, but holding Donovan’s head while he suffered the after effects of his alcohol indulgence didn’t particularly turn her on. Besides, she wanted him sober if she decided to take advantage of him. She guessed a man really should be in his best form in order to have a satisfying one-night stand.

  “Are you still coming with me to walk the dogs in the morning?” she asked.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” he promised. “Oh, by the way, I’ve been thinking about who might have it in for me all day today. You’re not going to like who’s at the top of my list.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “No one in town hates me more than your two best buds, Lindsey Butters and Brandon Feldman.”

  Chapter Eight

  Donovan knocked on Maddie’s door at precisely 6:45. He wasn’t too worse for wear, especially considering he rarely consumed more than an occasional glass of wine. Thoughts of spending the morning with Madeline had urged him out of bed. He drank coffee and ignored the pounding behind his temples. A brisk walk with Maddie on the beach was just what he needed to get rid of the residual hangover.