Justice Delayed (Memphis Cold Case #1)(90)

Will tapped his fingers against his leg. He wasn’t ready to get into this with Brad, but when he called his sister, she’d probably tell him. “This morning . . .” He didn’t want to do this.

“What?”

“Andi found a rough diamond in the horse sculpture, and I found two more with the scanner.”

“Diamonds in that ugly sculpture of Andi’s?” Brad rubbed his forehead. “How did diamonds get there?”

Will suppressed a groan. Why couldn’t this wait? It was enough that he’d probably lost Andi over it. He didn’t want to lose his friend today as well. “Look, you’ll have to either wait or ask Andi. I don’t have time to explain.”

Will started to walk away, and Brad grabbed his arm. “Wait a minute.” Then his eyes widened, and he sucked in a breath. “Are you—”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Will planted his feet. “I told Andi I thought Stephanie was smuggling diamonds.”

“Do you have proof?”

“Not yet, but last night I came across an article about diamonds being smuggled into the country by airline employees. And Lacey mentioned diamonds in one of the letters she’d started to Andi.”

“I have to think about this.” Brad took a step back, and then suddenly he exploded.

Will saw the punch coming and ducked, but he wasn’t quick enough. Brad’s fist caught the side of his cheek. Will grabbed Brad’s wrist and twisted his arm behind his back. “I’m not fighting you.”

Brad struggled to break free. “Yes, you are,” he said over his shoulder. “You just accused my dead sister of smuggling. She can’t even defend herself.”

“If she’s not involved, then put that energy into finding out who is.” Will released him with a shove and walked to his car. He didn’t know which hurt more, his cheek or his heart.

“I’ll make you eat your words,” Brad called after him.

Will kept walking. Anything he said would only make his friend angrier. He hoped Brad did find evidence that pointed to someone else. But Will didn’t see that happening. Either Stephanie smuggled the diamonds in and stole the three in the sculpture or she was hiding them for someone else. Either way, Will believed the diamonds got her killed.





30


“I’VE NEVER BEEN TO DOSKIE BEFORE,” Andi said. “But it’s beautiful.” They were off the interstate and approaching the downtown area. “We’re in the foothills of the Appalachians.”

“I bet it’s pretty in the fall,” Maggie said as they parked in front of the small post office. “You know, they may not give us Jillian’s address.”

“Only one way to find out.” Andi climbed out of her car and followed Maggie into the building. A postal worker was locking the door to the lobby. Andi checked her watch. “Do you close at noon?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Can we get in?” Maggie asked. “It’s really important that we speak to the postmaster.”

“Sorry, he’s not here.”

“Can we speak to the next person in charge?” Maggie asked.

“That’d be the woman at the window, but as you can see, we’re closed.”

“But it’s a matter of life and death.”

“Honey, you have no idea how many times I hear that.”

“This time it’s true,” Maggie said. “I’m a lawyer, and the man I represent will die if we don’t get the information we need.”

The clerk shot them a dubious look, but she didn’t reject their request outright.

“Please,” Andi said.

“I gotta hear this,” she said and unlocked the door.

They followed her inside.

“This attorney and her friend say they have a matter of life and death to discuss with you,” the clerk said.

“You don’t say,” the second in charge said. “They’ll have to wait until I’m finished with Mrs. Darby.”

Andi rubbed her thumb against her fingers. Why weren’t they taking this seriously?

Mrs. Darby finished and moved to the counter, where she took her time putting her money away. Andi wished the two clerks were as interested in hearing what they had to say as the dowdy matron. Andi took a better look. She hadn’t seen a floral print dress like that since her grandmother was alive. Or thick hose and sensible black shoes. The woman was dressed for a different century.

“Now, what can I do for you?” the clerk said.

Andi brought her attention back to the clerk as Maggie stepped forward.

“We have a post office box for Jillian Bennett, but we need her physical address, Ms. . . .”—Maggie glanced at the nametag—“Bergman.”

The two women exchanged glances. “If you’re an attorney, you ought to know we can’t give that information out,” Ms. Bergman said.

Andi’s heart sank. Bergman was going to take a hard line. But sometimes being a TV reporter helped. She fished a card from her bag. “I’m Andi Hollister—”

Mrs. Darby’s fit of coughing cut Andi off. When she caught her breath, she said, “Hannah, if you’ll unlock the door, I’ll be on my way.”