Protection Detail. Shirlee McCoy
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in you were dating?” He hoped not. He really did, because that would complicate things. If the pendant belonged to Erin and if they determined that she’d been at the scene when the murder occurred, a team member who’d had a recent relationship with her might be a problem.
“A long time ago. When we were in high school.”
“Okay.” That wasn’t as bad as he’d thought.
“I saw her tonight, though. Near the National Monument. I was working a reported mugging and ran into her there.”
“You’re going to tell me she was wearing that pendant, aren’t you?” he asked as he picked his way down a steep incline. Glory was just ahead, stopped in her tracks, nose to the ground. She’d lost the scent, and she turned in circles, trying to catch it again.
“Yeah. I am,” Chase responded. “We were in a well-lit area, and I saw it clear as day.”
“What time was that?”
“Ten. A few minutes after.”
“The shooting was called in at 11:30. She’d have had plenty of time to get from the National Monument to Harland’s place.”
“That doesn’t mean she committed the crime,” Chase shot back.
“No need to get defensive.”
“I’m not getting defensive. I’m stating a fact. Pure and simple. She was at the mansion tonight, but that doesn’t mean she pulled the trigger. If she did, Harland would have said as much.”
“Maybe.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Harland didn’t see the shooter.” The congressman had been shot in the shoulder and lost plenty of blood, but he’d been lucid when the police had arrived. The first responding officer had traveled in the ambulance with him and conducted an interview on the way to the hospital. Margaret had been given the information he’d obtained, and she’d passed it on to Gavin. No mention of anyone at the mansion except a couple of staff members and Michael. “And he didn’t mention Erin being at the mansion tonight.”
“She might have been visiting Michael and left before Harland saw her,” Chase responded.
“Could be.” One way or another, Gavin found it interesting that his coworker felt the need to defend a woman he’d dated over a decade ago. “If that pendant really is hers, we know she was there tonight. We need to find out why and when. We need to know if she saw anything, heard anything. The sooner the better.”
“Want me to question her?”
“I need you out here. I’ll send Brooke to her place.”
Somewhere behind them, a branch snapped, the sound discordant in the midnight silence.
Both dogs alerted, their ears twitching, their tails still and straight as they shifted their gazes to the deep woods they’d just come through.
Another branch snapped.
Glory growled.
She knew what she was hearing. Not the stealthy movement of a deer. Someone was in the woods, and whoever it was seemed to be between Gavin and All Our Kids.
That didn’t make him happy.
He gestured to Chase. “The suspect might be heading back to the foster home,” he mouthed.
Chase nodded. “What’s the plan?”
“Let’s separate. Try to hem him in.”
Chase nodded, taking two steps away and melting into the trees. There one minute. Gone the next.
Gavin issued a short quiet command, and Glory took off, moving through trees and foliage with unerring purpose. She had the scent. She was going to find the perpetrator, and the person who’d shot and killed Michael Jeffries was going to be made to pay for it.
* * *
Like Cassie, most of the children staying at All Our Kids didn’t trust the police. They’d come from a variety of homes, foster placements and difficult situations, but the one thing they all had in common was a deep-seated distrust of authority. In her three years working as housemother, that seemed to be the one and only overriding theme, the piece of baggage every single one of her kids brought into the home. She spent a lot of time working with the kids to help them overcome that, and each child spent time with counselors and therapists.
That was all well and good, but right at that moment, it didn’t matter. In the wee hours of the morning, with darkness pushing against the kitchen window and sleep still fogging their brains, there wasn’t one of the seven kids who wanted anything to do with Officer Anderson.
With Virginia upstairs trying to settle Juan back down, Cassie was having to deal with the attitudes, the silences and the tears on her own.
It probably would have been a good idea if a female officer had conducted the interview. Most of the kids responded better to female authority, but Officer Anderson hadn’t wanted to waste time bringing someone else in.
She’d warned him, told him it wouldn’t be a waste of time if it helped open the mouths of her charges.
He’d insisted on doing things his way.
And, now they were all in the kitchen, the sharp scent of gasoline seeping in from under the back door.
The dead-eyed guy had been trying to burn the house down.
The smell was a constant reminder and a distraction. One Cassie didn’t want or need. The Hazmat team would be there eventually. For now, she had to fight to keep from gagging every time she inhaled. She eyed the kids, all of them seated at the oversize table, their eyes sharp, their faces set in an array of scowls. They looked like a mutiny getting ready to happen.
“Your silence doesn’t change anything. Someone,” Officer Anderson said, his voice just a little too loud, “was outside of the house tonight. That person needs to own up to it.” He speared each kid with a look meant to melt their defiance.
None of them even blinked.
“Confess to it,” he continued. “Before you find yourself in more trouble.”
“You’re not in trouble,” Cassie broke in, knowing full well that threatening the kids wasn’t going to help. “You won’t be in trouble if you admit you were outside.”
Nothing.
Not a peep from anyone.
There was strength in numbers, the silence of one bolstering the silence of the others. They should have talked to each child individually, but Officer Anderson had wanted to save time. Another mistake on his part. The guy seemed kind enough, but he hadn’t wanted to listen to anything Cassie had to say.
Typical, her childish self whispered. The piece of her that was still the young kid being yanked from her bed every other night, police streaming into her room and demanding that she get up, wanted to tell Officer Anderson that they were done playing twenty questions.
The more mature part, the part that wanted to keep her kids alive, the part that wanted to stay alive with them, knew she needed to keep her mouth shut and let him do his job.
“Right. Sorry. I shouldn’t have said trouble. No one is in trouble,” Officer Anderson agreed, his gaze jumping from one child to another. “I just need to know where you were, what you saw.”
“Destiny?” Cassie prodded. She doubted the young girl would have wandered to the congressman’s house, but the kid seemed to know everything about everyone in the house. If someone else had left, she’d probably know it.
“What?” Destiny asked, studying her nails like they were way more interesting than Cassie or Officer Anderson.
“Did you hear anyone leave the house tonight?”
“No.”