Adverse Possession Page 19

  If she still loved Kylie, would she hit her, though?

  Or maybe Kylie had been writing the letters to get out of her relationship with Aislynn, and Aislynn had found out, and Aislynn had hit Kylie. And now she was in the wind, afraid of being arrested for assault or attempted murder.

  Or maybe Aislynn had been writing the letters to herself, to get out of her relationship with Kylie without having to admit she wanted to break up, and now she’d taken the opportunity to leave.

  That made sense, except for the fact that all her clothes were still at the house.

  “I have no idea who’s behind this,” I told Grimaldi. Or maybe ‘whimpered’ would be closer to the mark.

  She glanced up at me. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “I don’t see how. It doesn’t make any sense. It could be any number of people writing the letters, for any number of reasons, but I don’t see what the letters have to do with Virgil’s murder.”

  “Maybe nothing,” Grimaldi said.

  “Don’t you think it’s too much of a coincidence if they aren’t connected?”

  “Maybe,” Grimaldi said, “maybe not. In real life, crimes aren’t always neat.”

  I guess not. “It seems like they should be, though.”

  Grimaldi shrugged.

  “Does Mendoza have any suspects?”

  She gave me the beady eye.

  “We saw Kenny this morning,” I said. “Rafe and I. In Shelby Park. He was jogging. Down the same path where Virgil was killed Wednesday night.”

  This time she arched her brows.

  “Does that seem a bit callous to you?”

  “He might think it’ll help,” Grimaldi said. “To see the place where his boyfriend died. Just in case something of him lingers there.”

  I suppressed a shiver. “If something lingers, we didn’t notice it. And if it does, I’m not sure I want to know.”

  Grimaldi gave me the eye.

  “Rafe said he thought someone might have strung a wire or something across the path, to trip Virgil and make him fall. He said there was bark rubbed off a couple of trees.”

  “Jaime noted the same thing,” Grimaldi said.

  Good for Mendoza. “So Rafe was right.”

  “So it seems,” Grimaldi said. “I’m sure he explained to you how it’s easier to deliver a killing blow to someone who’s on the ground versus someone who’s upright.”

  Not in those words, but— “Yes,” I said. “He did.”

  She nodded. “Anything else?”

  I thought about it. Aislynn, Kenny, the letter... “I don’t think so. Will you make sure those fingerprints get to the lab?”

  “Yes, Ms.... Savannah,” Grimaldi said patiently, “I will.”

  I grimaced. “Thank you.”

  We sat in silence for a moment. “I’m not sure what to do,” I confessed.

  “About?”

  “All of it. Any of it. Aislynn being gone. Kylie being in the hospital. Virgil being dead.”

  “It’s not yours to do anything with. We’ll take care of it.”

  I must have looked mutinous, because she added, “Go home and enjoy a quiet evening with your husband. I’ve got this.”

  “I can’t,” I said, getting to my feet. “He isn’t home. One of the boys called. He’s gotten himself in trouble, so Rafe went to get him out of it.”

  Grimaldi got up, too, either to walk me out or to take her fingerprints to the lab. “One of the rookies? What kind of trouble?”

  “Gang,” I said. “Someone invited him to be a part of some kind of retaliation against another gang, and I guess he figured it was his chance to be a hero and arrest them all.”

  “Your husband will talk him out of it.”

  Undoubtedly. Either that, or he’d offer to join them.

  “I’m just worried about Aislynn,” I said as we got to the door and passed through and out into the hallway. “She’s out there somewhere, I don’t know where, and I’m worried. She hasn’t even visited Kylie in the hospital. If she isn’t careful, Kylie is going to think she doesn’t care and go recuperate at Lauren’s house instead.”

  “Maybe that’s what Aislynn wants,” Grimaldi said.

  “What if it isn’t? What if this guy snatched her and is keeping her somewhere?”

  “I think what happened last month is playing with your mind,” Grimaldi told me, kindly. “I’m sure no one has kidnapped and is torturing her. She drove off on her own, didn’t she? She’s probably just lying low at a friend’s house so she doesn’t have to be alone in her own. I don’t blame her for being nervous. Her house was broken into and her girlfriend attacked. It’s understandable that she doesn’t want to be there. Especially after this last letter.”

  It was. Very understandable. And maybe Grimaldi was right: Rafe’s kidnapping last month had made me jump to conclusions. Aislynn was probably just camping out with a friend. That didn’t explain why she hadn’t gone to see Kylie in the hospital—unless my other theory was right and Aislynn had hit Kylie—but either way, she was gone of her own free will and not because someone else was holding her.

  I took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

  “No problem,” Grimaldi said. “I’ll put out an APB on her, OK? It’s too soon to report her as a missing person, and there are reasons to think she’s not missing, but this way, if anyone sees her they’ll let me know.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  “Don’t mention it,” Grimaldi said. “If these fingerprints turn up anything of interest, I’ll let you know. Meanwhile, just go home and enjoy your husband. I’m sure he’ll be there soon.”

  He probably would be. Maybe I’d stop at the grocery store on my way and surprise him with a home-cooked meal. We’d been going out to eat a lot lately. Maybe I’d be domestic tonight, and cook.

  “I’m sure he’d appreciate that,” Grimaldi said when I mentioned it.

  I squinted at her. “Do you cook?”

  “When I have time. Mostly I eat out.”

  If she ended up marrying Dix, that could be a problem. Sheila had practically been a professional cook. Or at least a full-time stay-at-home mom.

  Of course, if Grimaldi married Dix, who was going to do the cooking was likely to be the least of the problems they’d face. If she moved to Sweetwater, she’d have to give up her job. She might have to work with Sheriff Satterfield at the Maury County sheriff’s office, and the mere idea of that was making me bug-eyed.

  But on the other hand, Dix had a law practice in Sweetwater, not to mention two girls in school, and a sister, brother-in-law, mother, and best friend in town. I didn’t think it made sense for him to pack up and move to Nashville, either.

  I wondered if they’d thought about it, and that’s why their relationship seemed to move forward at a snail’s pace.

  None of my business. I shook it off. “I guess I’ll head out. Let me know if you hear anything.”

  Grimaldi told me she would, and we went our separate ways: she to the lab, and me down in the elevator to the lobby, where I handed in my visitor’s badge and was allowed to leave the building without being detained.

  It was still just as hot outside. The sidewalk was steaming, and the blacktop felt squishy under my feet. Maybe it was too hot to cook.

  I stopped at the grocery store anyway. And I bought a rotisserie chicken and some salad fixings and rolls and more ice cream, since you can never have too much Mocha Double Chunk. On my way out, I tossed in a pound cake and a pint of strawberries, too, and then I had to go back for a container of whipped cream, since strawberries and pound cake isn’t complete without a dollop of whipped cream.

  Rafe wasn’t home yet, so back at the house I changed into something more comfortable (and less sweat-soaked), and then got to work cutting and slicing and dicing. The air conditioning was blasting, and so was the radio, and I was singing along with Shania Twain when I heard the rumble of the Harley outside. After a few seconds the rumble stopped, then silence. The radio was loud enough that
I couldn’t hear the key in the lock. I didn’t hear Rafe’s footsteps until he appeared behind me and slipped both arms around my waist; hands splayed across my stomach.

  He leaned in to nuzzle my cheek. “Looks good.”

  I tilted my head for better access. “Me or the food?”

  He chuckled. “Both. But I was talking about the food.”

  “It’ll be ready in about ten minutes. Are you hungry?”

  “Always,” Rafe said.

  “For food?”

  “That, too.” But he dropped his hands from my stomach after one final caress, and headed for the fridge. “You mind?”

  He held up a bottle of Corona.

  I shook my head. “Knock yourself out.” I hadn’t been fond of beer even before I got pregnant. Beer is low class, as my mother always said. My own preferred poison—like hers—is white wine. But of course I can’t have any of that at the moment, either.

  Rafe popped the top of the beer and took a seat at the table. “Everything OK?”

  “Fine,” I said, shredding rotisserie chicken to put on top of the salad. “Why?”

  “You’re cooking.”

  “I cook sometimes. And I felt guilty because we’d been eating out so much.”

  He arched a brow, and I added, “Oh, fine. Grimaldi told me to go home and spend time with my husband. I figured I might as well cook, since I don’t have anything else to do.”

  His eyebrows gyrated. “I know something we can do.”

  “Later. After I spent time doing this, the least you can do is eat it first.” I distributed chicken onto the two plates and topped it with slivered almonds. “And anyway, you weren’t here. I needed something to do that I could do alone.”

  “You know...” Rafe said, and I held up a hand.

  “Don’t go there. Please.”

  He grinned, but subsided. “What were you and Tammy doing?”

  I told him about the trip to the hospital and then the trip to Aislynn and Kylie’s house and the letter and trip to downtown while I put the salad and rolls on the table. I was still talking long after we’d sat down to eat. “I’m not sure what to think,” I finished the narrative. “She’s probably all right. Just spending time with a friend because she doesn’t want to go home to an empty house. But it bothers me that she didn’t come visit Kylie in the hospital. And that she’s not answering her phone.”

  Rafe nodded. “Any idea where she mighta gone?”

  “None. I don’t really know them outside of selling them a house. We aren’t friends. Friday was the first time I heard anything about Lauren, and I know nothing about Aislynn’s friends. Maybe I should have asked her mother whether any of them live in Nashville now.”

  “If she’s like most of us,” Rafe said, “she prob’ly hangs out with people from work.”

  Probably. “Sara Beth’s is closed today. I called. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow to go down there and look for her.”

  “By then she mighta shown up,” Rafe said, and put his fork down. “What’s for dessert?”

  “Funny you should ask. I have pound cake, strawberries, and whipped cream.”

  “And here I was hoping you’d say ‘me.’”

  Oh, really? “That could be arranged, too.” The pound cake would wait. Not like it had to be kept warm.

  “It’s all right,” Rafe said. “Pound cake sounds good.”

  Not as good as certain other types of dessert, but if he was willing to settle for pound cake for now, then he could have pound cake now, and me later.

  “So what happened with Jamal?” I asked when we were sitting across from one another forking up strawberries and whipped cream.

  He made a face. “The kid’s wasted in the TBI. He should be a lawyer.”

  “Talked you into it, did he?”

  “It makes sense. If he runs with the gang for this, he can feed us information we can use to arrest them. And he’s willing to do it. Hell, he wants to do it!”

  “Of course he does. He wants to be a hero. Like you.”

  He shook his head. “I was never a hero. I was a stupid kid who was given a chance to straighten out his life before it went too far off the rails, and I was smart enough to take it.”

  “And the fact that you almost singlehandedly took down the biggest SATG,” South American Theft Gang, “in the Southeast, that was...?”

  “Not singlehandedly,” Rafe said. “I had plenty of help.”

  “You had plenty of support. Or at least you had Wendell, who’d pull your butt out of the fire if you needed it. But you were the one on the inside risking your life every day. By yourself.”

  He had no response for that.

  “The rest of us think you’re a hero. Jamal thinks you’re a hero. Get used to it.”

  “He don’t,” Rafe said. “If he did, he woulda been a bit more respectful.”

  Maybe so. But... “He talked you into letting him do it.”

  He shrugged. “I’m gonna have to clear it with Wendell tomorrow. But he’ll prob’ly say yes. And Jamal’s gonna do it whether he gets an official nod or not. I’d rather have his back than know he’s out there on his own.”

  “I’m sure Wendell will see it the same way,” I said. “He cares about the three of them, too. They all worked around the clock to find you back in June.”

  He nodded. “Wendell’s gonna do it. I might be working late nights in the next little bit.”

  “Just keep Jamal safe,” I said.

  Chapter Seventeen

  We finally did get our second round of dessert, although by then it was more like a midnight snack. Or not midnight, exactly—I don’t last until midnight these days—but it was bedtime. And when I woke up the next morning, Rafe had already left. I had a vague memory of being kissed goodbye, although it could just have been in my mind.

  I staggered into the shower, and once I came out—considerably more awake—I sent him a text to let him know I was up and everything was all right. You?

  It took a minute, and then I got a message back. Meeting w/ brass re Jamal. Can’t talk now.

  Of course not. I continued dressing.

  By the time I had dried my hair and had breakfast, he still hadn’t called back, so I picked up the phone and made another call, this time to Vanderbilt Hospital. The duty nurse told me that yes, indeed, Kylie Mitchell would be released as soon as Doctor Ramsey finished his rounds, and her ‘sister’ was welcome to come pick her up. I asked to talk to her, just to make sure she hadn’t made other arrangements—just in case Aislynn had showed up—and was connected to her room.

  It took a moment, and then I heard Kylie’s voice. “Hello?”

  “It’s Savannah,” I said. “The nurse said you’re getting to go home today. Do you have a ride?”

  She hesitated, but eventually admitted, “No.”

  “I’d be happy to come get you. Once the sales meeting is over, I’m not doing anything else.”

  She hesitated again, but finally said, “That would be great. Thanks.”

  “It’s no problem. I guess Lauren had to work?”

  “I didn’t call her,” Kylie said. “I just want Aislynn back. And that’s not going to happen as long as Lauren’s around.”

  Probably not. “It might not have been that good of an idea to leave Aislynn at home while you went to warn her about the police on Friday night.” Since that had pretty much cemented Aislynn’s fears about Kylie and Lauren.

  I could practically hear Kylie’s eyes rolling like marbles. “Is that what she thought I was doing?”

  She didn’t wait for me to confirm it, just kept going. “When she first told the detective that she thought Lauren might be sending the letters to get rid of her, I didn’t believe it. And I said so, and it probably sounded like I was defending her. But Detective Mendoza seemed like he took Aislynn seriously, and he kept asking me questions about mine and Lauren’s relationship and how she took being dumped, and of course she didn’t take it well. Although I didn’t really dump her. We weren’t
serious. Or at least I wasn’t. I’d just gotten divorced from Damian, and I guess I was experimenting, you know?”

  I murmured something appropriate while I glanced at my watch. If she didn’t stop talking soon, I’d be late for the meeting.

  “So I started thinking that maybe Aislynn had a point,” Kylie said. “And that maybe Lauren might have had something to do with it. I wasn’t going there to warn her. I was going to confront her.”

  “Does Aislynn know that?”

  I imagined her shaking her head. “I didn’t get a chance. When I got home, she wasn’t there.”

  “So you do remember coming home.”

  “I guess I do,” Kylie said, sounding surprised. Hard to tell whether it was real surprise, or whether she was putting me on.

  “Do you remember what happened when you got there?”

  “I parked the car in the garage, since I knew we wouldn’t be going out again that night. And I came in through the back door. Out through the side door in the garage and up on the deck. The light was on in the parlor, so when I came through the door, I called Aislynn’s name and told her it was me.”

  I nodded, not that she could see me.

  “She didn’t answer, but I heard a noise from the parlor, so I headed that way. I turned into the doorway... and that’s the last thing I remember.”

  “Because someone hit you,” I said. “I don’t suppose you saw who?”

  She hadn’t. Of course not. That would have been too easy.

  Although the narrative had taken care of one lingering possibility. Kylie had identified herself when she came into the house, and had called Aislynn’s name. If Aislynn had hit her, it had been deliberately. No chance of an accident at all that I could see.

  “You haven’t heard anything from Aislynn, have you?”

  “No,” Kylie said. “I guess she’s still with her mom and dad. Maybe they talked her out of wanting anything to do with me. She probably thinks I prefer Lauren.”

  I murmured something noncommittal. I could have broken the news that Aislynn wasn’t at her mom and dad’s, I suppose. That she hadn’t gone to her mom and dad’s in the first place, and that they hadn’t seen her in more than a month. But I had to get to my meeting, and it wasn’t the kind of news I wanted to impart over the phone. Better to wait until she’d been released from the hospital and we were face to face—or side by side—in the car, going home. Better done in person.