“Nothing’s going on with me. The box was there! Inside it was a zip bag with twelve round, white pills—”
She stopped and looked at Jake. He stood slightly behind Buddy, hands jammed into his pockets, eyes averted. No help, she thought. No champion or ally, just like fourteen years ago.
It hurt and she steeled herself against the emotion. She squared her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said softly but with steel in her tone. “I didn’t imagine any of this, and someday you’ll admit it and regret doing this.”
“Take some time off,” he said. “I want you to make an appointment with the department shrink. We’ll see how it goes.”
She didn’t respond and he went on. “I’ve cleared the scene. You set foot on this property again, and you’re trespassing.” He narrowed his gaze on her. “Do you understand?”
“Of course.”
“Your badge,” he said again.
She handed it over, then her holster and weapon. By some miracle her hands and gaze were steady. “Jake, I presume you’ll catch a ride back with Chief Cadwell?”
He looked at her then, expression stricken. “I’ll do that.”
She nodded curtly, climbed into her car, and without a backward glance, drove off.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Noon
Miranda stepped from the bright light of midday into the perpetual evening of the Toasted Cat. Summer looked up from the newspaper she was reading, spread open on the bar in front of her.
“I heard,” Summer said.
“Bad news travels fast.”
“Jake called me. He figured you’d come here.”
Miranda slid onto a barstool. “How much did he tell you?”
“Only that you’d been suspended.” Summer set a glass of water in front of her. “Honestly, I thought it was a joke.”
“I wish.”
“That was a while ago. Where’ve you been?”
“Just driving.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This really blows.”
Yes, it did. “How about a cup of coffee?”
“Just made a fresh pot.”
She poured them each a cup and set out the carton of half-and-half and the sugar caddy. “What happened?”
“I followed a hunch.”
“The Stark murder?”
“Uh huh.” Miranda doctored her coffee, then took a sip. “Took it upon myself to go back to the scene, conduct a search.”
“And you found something incriminating?”
“Damn right I did.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “And Cadwell wasn’t dancing for joy?”
“He would have been,” she said bitterly, “but it incriminated the wrong party.”
Summer rested her chin on her fist. “Sweetie, that doesn’t make a bit of sense. You know that, right?”
“Oh, it does. Unfortunately for me.” She shook her head, knowing she’d already said too much but going on anyway. “So, I left said incriminating evidence where I found it and convinced Cadwell to assemble a team to go back and collect it.”
“And?”
“When we got there, it was gone.”
“Holy crap.”
“That pretty much covers it. And not only am I unprofessional, I look like I’ve lost my mind as well.”
Summer went for the coffee, refilled her own cup, and topped off Miranda’s. “And Cadwell didn’t believe you?”
“He suggested I might be suffering from PTSD. I have to see the department shrink before he’ll even consider reinstating me.”
“That’s a crock of shit. You’re the most stable person I know.”
Miranda laughed, the sound choked. “Maybe I am suffering from PTSD. You know what happened to me when I was fifteen? This case has dredged it all up, and maybe I’m cracking.”
Summer made a face. “You don’t believe that. I know you don’t.”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
“That’s just—” Summer grimaced slightly and rubbed her temple. “Bullshit.”
Miranda realized she’d seen Summer do that earlier, as well. “Are you okay?”
“Headache, that’s all.”
“From your expression just now, it looks like a doozy. Have you taken something for it?”
“I hoped the coffee would take care of it, but maybe I should.” She rummaged in the drawer under the register and came up with a couple tablets.
She took them, then returned to their conversation. “First off, I believe you. I believe in you, Miranda. You didn’t imagine any of this. You didn’t make it up. So don’t start the ‘I don’t know what to believe’ crap. And second—” Summer leaned toward her. “What happened today, that evidence disappearing, you know what that means.”
She did, and nodded, feeling as if she was coming back to life. “That between the time I left and came back with the team, someone took it.”
“That’s right. How long was that?”
“Two hours, tops.” Miranda narrowed her eyes. “It had to be Ian Stark. He was there when I got there, in the kitchen, obviously searching for something.”
“Who else could it be?”
“His wife, Catherine. She was with him, but … I don’t see that.”
“Anyone else know you found something?”
“The chief. But he never left HQ after I told him. And Jake. But he was—”
She bit back the words and Summer frowned. “What about Jake?”
“Nothing. He was with me, too. The whole time.”
Except for the few minutes between when she left the scene and he showed up at headquarters. She’d told him about the freezer, that she’d found something that supported her claim about Stark. He hadn’t wanted to hear more, so she’d stopped.
How long was it between when she arrived back at HQ and Jake did? Ten minutes? Certainly enough time to go to Stark’s freezer and see for himself. He was smart; he would have recognized the box as being out of place right away, just as she had.
Enough time to take the box.
No, not Jake. Why would he? To protect Stark? To further his career? Neither sounded like the Jake she knew.
“Miranda? What’s wrong?”
She blinked, focusing on her friend’s concerned expression. “Sorting it out, wondering who I can trust.”
“Sounds to me like you can’t trust anyone.”
Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe it was time to go. Pack up and move on, the way she’d always promised herself she would.
She told Summer that, and her friend frowned. “Where would you go?”
“Anywhere. Away from here.”
Summer wiped a water ring from the bar. “I think they call that running away.”
“Yeah, so what?” She drained her coffee. It had gone cold and grown bitter.
“You’re not a quitter, Miranda.”
“You so sure about that?”
“A quitter would have walked away from this place a long time ago. Just saying.”
Dammit. Summer was right on both counts. “So, what do I do?”
“Do about what? Getting your job back?”
“Yeah, but not just my job. My reputation.”
Summer nodded, her gaze shifting to the door and the boisterous group coming in. “You get them to believe you. Whatever it takes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
11:10 A.M.