she was blaming herself for not seeing the truth. Dan could empathize; he knew only too well how it felt to have your insides torn out by guilt. By the feeling that you hadn’t done enough, hadn’t tried hard enough.
“Don’t. Feel guilty, I mean. You did your duty. If you really thought she committed the crime, then you had to vote that way.”
“If you didn’t make an appointment with the police because of the trial, then why had you made the appointment?” Chief Garraway had stationed herself directly in front of Maggie, a position that said she was in control. Normally, Dan would have remained standing, too. At the moment, though, he couldn’t seem to find the energy to rise. Between spending the past week on the late shift, hunting down Maggie and now getting stabbed, he was whupped good.
Some hair was hanging in his face, annoying him. Shaking it back out of his eyes, he focused on Maggie as she answered.
“I had thought that I was being followed. But almost as soon as I made the appointment, it stopped. I canceled the appointment. I’m sorry. I should have called you in person to tell you why, but I was embarrassed. Then I got married, and I forgot about it...until Phillip was killed.”
“Back to Phillip. Tell me about him.”
The chief’s tone made it clear this wasn’t a request.
Shrugging her shoulders, Maggie’s eyes grew distant. Dan could practically see the thoughts whirling in her head as she searched for where to begin. He could see her pain weighing her down as she remembered.
Dan watched the woman with a clinical sort of interest. She was beautiful, he acknowledged—but that wasn’t what interested him right now. What he found interesting was the tenseness in her posture. Everything about her suggested the willingness to run at a moment’s notice. He had the feeling that the only things that were keeping her in that house at that moment were the two children sleeping in the next room. Somehow he felt that they were the only things that anchored her to anything. He had seen that same sort of wariness in soldiers’ eyes in the battlefield in Afghanistan. Was it just the trauma of seeing her husband killed before her eyes? If indeed there had been a husband. He still felt the need to see some proof of that. Growing up in the foster care system had taught him that there were many people willing to play on others’ sympathy to get what they wanted.
But deep inside, he believed her, although he couldn’t say why.
Just as he was beginning to think that the silence had gone on for too long, Maggie appeared to come to some sort of decision. She nodded her head, lifted her chin and faced them with defiance beaming out of her eyes. The most incredible blue eyes he could ever remember seeing. Where on earth had that thought come from?
“His full name was Phillip Michael Nelson,” she began. Although she appeared calm, he detected a slight tremor in her voice. “We met about three years ago, right after I started working at the Journal. We got engaged a year later. We never really got around to planning a wedding or setting a date. Then one day, Phillip said he had it all figured out, and that we should rush off to Las Vegas to get married.”
“And you just went along with that?” Dan blurted out. He didn’t mean to sound so incredulous, but man, he just couldn’t picture it. How could an intelligent woman not ask the important questions? Questions such as “Hey, honey, why the hurry?” They’d already waited a year.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Maggie snapped. “I trusted him. If it meant that much to him, I was fine with it.”
Chief Garraway gave Dan a stern look that clearly told him to keep his opinions to himself. Dan grimaced. Normally he had iron control over his emotions, but right now he was tired and in pain. Not to mention something about Maggie really confused him. He wasn’t used to feeling off balance. He sighed and nodded at the chief to show her that he had gotten the message.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he sent a quick text to Jace with Phillip’s name. This process would move quicker if he had the case details. A minute later, his phone vibrated. He read the text and frowned.
“This just keeps getting stranger,” he muttered to himself.
“Lieutenant?”
He shook his head and handed Chief Garraway his phone. “I had Lieutenant Tucker check our case files. No Phillip Michael Nelson was ever reported as dead or missing in LaMar Pond.”
Chief Garraway narrowed her eyes as she read the message for herself. Her lips pressed together. “Ms. Slade,” she said finally, “do you happen to have a picture of your husband?”
Maggie sprang to her feet and dashed out of the room. The sound of a drawer opening and closing came through the thin walls. A moment later, she hurried back, holding a small photo album in her hand. She flipped through it as she approached until she found the picture she wanted. Then she handed it to the chief, who in turn glanced at the photo and handed it to Dan.
“Yeah, I remember him. We found him in Lake Erie. He had been shot. We were never able to identify him.” He hesitated. If he had been alone with the chief, he’d be fine giving her the rest of the information. He decided to hold his tongue until he could get the chief by herself.
“You found him in the lake?” Maggie whispered, her voice cracking, pain saturating each word.
She covered her face with both hands briefly, shuddering. A strange tension seized him. Not tears. Please, Lord, anything but tears. He was relieved when she brought her hands away from her face. Her lashes were damp, but no tears fell.
“I don’t understand. He was killed in our house.”
That surprised him. “In your house? We went through your house after you disappeared. There was no sign of murder.”
“Not that house. The one we were fixing up together.”
“We found no other property in your name.”
Maggie rolled her eyes and sighed. “That’s because it’s not in my name. It’s in my mother’s name. She was selling it to us. But the deal hadn’t closed yet.”
Chief Garraway nodded. “Okay. Just tell us what happened.”
Maggie took a deep breath. “I came home from work early and heard arguing. It was really loud. I walked to the doorway of the kitchen. Phillip saw me and shouted for me to run. He threw himself at the other man. The gun went off and Phillip fell. I ran out, hopped in my car and took off.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police, Ms. Slade?” Chief Garraway inquired.
“Because the man who shot him was dressed as a policeman.”
Silence.
“Let me get this straight, a cop killed your husband?” Dread curled in Dan’s stomach. It felt as though he’d eaten a lead ball for lunch. Not again, he thought wildly. As much as he didn’t want to believe her, didn’t want to believe that someone charged to serve and protect could do the opposite, he had seen that happen too often in the past. If there was even the possibility, it needed to be taken seriously.
Apparently, Maggie thought he was mocking her. She burst to her feet and crossed her arms across her chest. “I’m not lying! He was dressed like a cop! He kept demanding that Phillip hand something over. He threatened to bring him into the station. Said the chief of police had issued a warrant for his arrest.”
“You said the man demanded Nelson hand something over. Any idea what it was?” Now they were getting somewhere.
But she shook her head and sank wearily back onto the couch. “I don’t know. I had to get out of there. The man might have said he wanted to arrest Phillip, but he wasn’t holding handcuffs, he was holding his gun—and he looked like he couldn’t wait to use it. I think he planned to kill Phillip all along. And then I realized he would know who I was. I’d brought over plenty of my things—letters and paperwork with my name on them—and there were pictures of Phillip and me together on our wedding day hanging on the wall. It wouldn’t be hard for him to know who