A Deep and Dark December(35)

“Your impressions, then.”

“My impressions are that I can’t comment on a case that hasn’t been fully investigated.”

Teddy’s jaw worked. “Semantics.”

“It would be irresponsible of us both to give the fine citizens of San Rey inaccurate or incomplete information. You’re just going to have to tell them that we’re working every possible lead.”

“I understand your position. I really do. So we’ll just keep this between you and me.” Teddy winked with the effort most people put into a push up.

Except with a politician, nothing was likely to stay where it didn’t do him the most good. Why was Teddy pushing so hard? What did he want with the information? What was he going to do with it? Could he somehow be involved in what happened at the Lasiters’ house? Great. He was going to have to add the mayor to his list of possible suspects, which was pathetically short.

“I’ll tell you what. As soon as I have something, you’ll be the first to know.” Graham stood. “I give you my word.”

Teddy heaved himself to his feet, his face mottled red with the effort as he faced Graham across the desk. “I respect your family’s fine…tradition. Your father was a sheriff who knew his job. I expect he’s got a few ropes he still needs to show you.” Teddy’s marbled gaze rolled about the room, over the portraits of Graham’s ancestors, coming to rest on the badge clipped to Graham’s shirt pocket. “I expect you’ll learn the way of things…yet.”

As Teddy lurched toward the door Graham felt the eyes of his forefathers watching, judging. He’d only been on the job a couple weeks and had already made an enemy of the mayor. Damned small town with its small minds and small town politics.

He dug his fingernails into the underside of the polished walnut desk. The ever-present urge to get the hell out rose up inside him, lodging hard and suffocating in his chest. He shouldn’t have come back to San Rey. Shouldn’t have let his father guilt him in to taking over as sheriff.

And he sure as hell should never have touched Erin December.





Rumors and speculation catapulted what had happened at the Lasiter house into the story of the century in San Rey, with Erin at the center of it all. People who hadn’t spoken to her in weeks suddenly sought her out, wanting the gory details, when they weren’t pointing at her and whispering about her behind their hands with their friends. She was now notorious for an entirely different reason.

She wouldn’t have risked an outing to the hair salon unless she was desperate. As usual for a Saturday, the Clippity-Do-Da was packed. Erin tried to keep to herself and ignore the furtive looks from the other ladies having their hair done. So when the blatant stares turned away from her and toward the door, Erin couldn’t help but turn to see what or who had snagged their attention.

Graham.

He looked haggard and drawn. She hadn’t seen him since the morning she gave her statement, but she could tell the case was wearing on him. Her own dark circled eyes and pale complexion gave away the fact that she wasn’t sleeping well either. She had to admit that she’d missed the sight of him. The usual feminine salon chatter shrank to appreciative whispers as the door whooshed closed behind him.

He spoke to the receptionist who immediately approached Erin’s hairstylist to let her know that Graham was there to see her. Erin slid deeper into her seat. Graham recognized her anyway with a twitch of a smile. Ignoring the stares and murmurs of the lady patrons, he settled onto the waiting area couch with a People magazine, giving it all of his attention.

Leaning close to Erin’s foiled head, Candy whispered, “He’s here to talk to me about Deidre and Greg. I still can’t believe they’re gone.”

“Me either,” Erin responded. Candy was one of the few people who hadn’t pumped her for information about the murder/suicide.

“I just don’t get it. How could Greg have killed her? Why? Their divorce was amicable. I know he’d recently lost his job and was losing his house. It’s just so…”

“Horrible.”

Candy met Erin’s gaze in the mirror. “Yeah. I guess you’d know about that. Did Greg say anything? Tell you why he did it?”

And there it was. The question she’d been asked a million times. Erin dropped her voice so no one would overhear. “He didn’t kill her.”

“He said that?”

Erin nodded.

Candy shook her head. “And you believed him? Why?”

How to answer? Candy had been more of a friend to her than anyone, but it wasn’t as though Erin could tell her about the vision of Deidre opening the door to her killer or seeing the murder through the killer’s eyes. There were some details she couldn’t bring herself to think about, let alone talk about. Except with Graham.

“I just do,” Erin finally answered.

“I’m going to miss her. Deidre could be…difficult sometimes, but she didn’t deserve to die.”

“No. She didn’t.”

Candy continued to work on Erin’s hair, but she didn’t ask any more questions. Thankfully she changed topics to talk about something funny her dog had done. Erin was grateful she didn’t press for more.

Candy painted color onto the last foil and folded it up. “Come on. Let’s put you under the dryer.”