Deadly Homecoming
Kimbly took his arm. “Lawson, you’re a good guy. Don’t be getting strung along by her stories, all right?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I heard you left the café on accounts of her, and I can tell you, she’s not worth it. She’s bad news.”
Lawson’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t judge people by what others say, Tom. And I would have thought you’d have figured that out by now.”
The man looked uncomfortable. Then, obviously feeling foolish, Tom said, “Everyone knows she was involved in Danny’s murder. The police here wouldn’t suspect her if they didn’t have a good reason.”
Peta turned and walked away, choosing to ignore the man rather than confront him. If Lawson said anything more to Tom, she didn’t hear it. She spotted Constable Long walking toward her, and straightened her shoulders.
“Nope, I ain’t seen him in a long time. I can’t tell you no more.”
Peta stopped and spun. Those words. Who had spoken them? At the end of the hall, Lawson stood frowning at her. Tom Kimbly had already left the building. Through the glass doors beyond, she could see him hurrying around the corner, probably to return to his store.
All the offices and rooms were filled, with the extra police taking statements from every adult on the island, it seemed. Some doors were open, some closed, but all the conversations penetrated the thin walls.
“He was bad, he was.”
That voice, again. Now she was sure it was a man. Peta pivoted. Where did it come from?
“What’s wrong?”
She looked up as Lawson approached. “That voice! The same as last night. Whoever warned me off the island is here in the building!”
FIVE
“What are you talking about?” Lawson shook his head, not following her words. “Who called you last night?”
Peta took his arm and led him to one side of the narrow corridor. She held her forefinger to her mouth, and cocked her head as if listening.
What was going on? He felt himself tense up, and knew she had done the same. Her fingers were digging into his arm.
Then, as suddenly as she had dragged him to one side, she sagged and relaxed.
“What’s going on, Peta? Somebody called last night? What did they say?”
She rubbed her right temple. “Last night, after you left, I got a phone call. He told me to get off the island.”
“What exactly did he say?”
She repeated the conversation, and how confusing it seemed to her. “I couldn’t guess if it was a man or a woman, but the person is in this building right now. I just heard the same voice! It was very distinct.”
Lawson scanned the interior of the station. Like most tiny police stations, there were only a few offices, but the extra rooms and cubicles were now packed with people. Half the population of the island was here being questioned, it seemed, and with several officers from the mainland, the whole place was a beehive of activity. He’d seen Pastor Martin in one room a minute ago, and the doctor in another, plus Jane from the grocery store. Her voice was gravelly enough to pass as a man’s.
But she was hardly the type to warn Peta off the island.
With a firm grip on Peta’s arm, he captured her attention. “You said the caller mentioned drugs. Danny was involved with drugs with Marcano, so that can’t be a coincidence. You have to tell Constable Long.”
“Tell me what?”
They both turned. Constable Long stood there, calm and curious, papers in his hands and a frown on his craggy, middle-aged face.
“I need to talk to you,” Peta said, rubbing her temples again. “I need my belongings, and I just want to say that if you want to interrogate me again, I’m only too happy to oblige. I can’t prove that I only just arrived on this island, but I know that I didn’t kill Danny.”
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