Strategically Wed Page 12

  Griff pulled the box of files over to the sofa and checked through the contents while she repositioned her sewing machine on the table. For the first hour, neither of them spoke while the rain kept a steady beat.

  She’d just finished making a small choker for one of her dolls when Griff pushed aside the files.

  She raised her head. “No luck?”

  “Do you remember the schoolteacher case?”

  She removed the pins from her mouth. “Yep. A forty-something school teacher accused of seducing one of his students. The girl’s parents wanted to press charges, but she refused to cooperate until he went back to his wife.”

  “What happened?”

  “The teacher agreed to a plea bargain. He provided some information about another member of the staff who was involved in drug trafficking. The teacher got probation but lost his job.”

  “It says here that he made threats against the girl and you.”

  She shook her head. “His wife left him. He wanted someone to blame, and I was handy.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “He moved out of town.”

  Griff watched as Maggie leaned over to retrieve a pattern for a long skirt.

  He had fight to keep his mind on the case file in front of him.

  “What about the girl?”

  Maggie lifted an eyebrow. “She graduated from high school and got herself pregnant a year later.”

  “When did you start collecting dolls?”

  His change of subject startled Maggie, causing her to nearly stab her finger with a pin. She grimaced, shaking her hand. “Aunt Jessica bought me a doll after each one of her trips.”

  “When did they become more than a gift?”

  She picked up the dress and held it against the doll she’d managed to find space for in her suitcase. “Dad was gone so much. The dolls were always there. They became a part of the family.”

  Griff seemed inordinately curious. “BJ never mentioned your fondness for dolls.”

  “Dad had little patience with Aunt Jessica’s attempt to feminize me. Whenever one of the dolls arrived, Dad would sulk.”

  “He was jealous.”

  Maggie eyed him suspiciously. “Why would he be jealous or threatened by his own sister?”

  “You were a girl. She’s a woman. The female sex wasn’t BJ’s strong suit.”

  She set down the doll and pushed aside her sewing. “Or yours, either. Right?”

  He was suddenly on guard. “What does that mean?”

  “Maybe you’re right. Dad was jealous, and instead of spending more time with me, building a bond between us, he pulled away. But what about you? Aren’t you doing the same thing? Isn’t that why you’re the great expert?”

  “This isn’t about me.”

  She tilted her head. “It’s easier to stand on the sidelines and judge someone else’s life, isn’t it? You don’t put yourself at risk.”

  An all-too-familiar shutter descended over Griff’s expression, shutting Maggie out of his thoughts. He’d gone into hiding, just like her father used to.

  Her father’s jealousies didn’t hurt her nearly as much as she thought they might.

  What bothered her more was the unmasking of her emotions in front of Griff.

  Raw and exposed, the walls in the cabin suddenly crowded her.

  She stood up. “I need to get out of here, rain or no rain.”

  Griff grasped the crutch leaning against the wall. “We should drive into town and give Wylie a call. He told us to check in.”

  Maggie would have preferred going by herself.

  Like it or not, she didn’t have a choice.

  Any further personal subjects were shelved as they wove down the tiny lane and hit the main highway twenty minutes later.

  That was fine with Griff. Griff didn’t want to analyze the hidden truths behind Maggie’s relationship with her father or his own character flaws.

  Maggie was right. He much preferred analyzing other people’s problems than his own. That’s probably why he’d become a cop. Society’s dysfunctionalism could take front and center. The code of professionalism became a protective shield.

  So how had the conversation turned back to him?

  He’d always suspected BJ’s relationship with Maggie had been determined by his partner’s insecurities as a parent.

  There was no reason why Griff had this intense need to explain or defend BJ’s actions.

  Why did Griff care about something that no longer mattered?

  Because you’re starting to care more about Maggie than you should.

  She was BJ’s daughter. Of course he’d care.

  Is that the truth, or are you trying to hide behind your badge and the job, as Maggie accused?

  His mouth pressed into a flat line of denial as the question about-faced and shot back at him.

  Had Maggie been right? Was he standing on the sidelines? Was he really trying to cover his own flank?

  He’d always prided himself on his honesty, but maybe the truths of his life were based on dishonesty.

  The skin beneath the plaster started to itch.

  “Is your phone working yet?” Maggie’s words broke into his mental interrogation as they broached the town limits.

  Griff reached into his shirt pocket and turned on the phone. “It’s on.”

  Wylie answered on the third ring. The terseness in the older man’s tone came through loud and clear. “Where are you?” Wylie asked.

  “We’re on the outskirts of Jonas Falls. What’s up?”

  “Local mail carrier was mugged two hours ago.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “It’s a woman. She’s still unconscious. I’m at the hospital right now.”

  Muggings weren’t common in Pendleton, but they weren’t unheard of either. “Any possible clues as to why she’d be a target?”

  “Today she was distributing local phone bills. Her mail bag is missing.”

  “What route does she cover?”

  There was a brief hesitation. “Mine.”

  Griff’s gut clenched. “You think someone might be tracking your phone calls to find us?”

  “It’s a stretch, but nothing in this case has made any sense. And there’s something else you should know.”

  “What’s that?”

  Maggie pulled the car into a nearly vacant parking lot and turned to watch him.

  “Dwight Conrad showed up this morning,” Wylie said.

  “Where?”

  “Here at the department.”

  Griff clutched the phone. “What did he want?”

  “His old job back.”

  Before Griff could question him, he heard Wylie speak in a muffled tone to someone else.

  “Sorry about that. Where was I?”

  “Conrad wants his old job back,” Griff repeated. “Did you ask him where he’s been?”

  “Yeah. He said he’d been visiting his girlfriend in Chicago.”

  “Did you check it out?”

  “Haven’t had time. We got the call about the mugging. Conrad disappeared before I returned from the hospital.”

  There was another interruption in the background. Thirty seconds later, Wylie returned. “Man, that woman’s a pest.”

  “Who?”

  “Mrs. Harris, your landlady. She claims she’s being harassed by your bill collectors because you skipped town.”

  “Do you want me to talk to her?”

  “No, we’ve got it covered,” Wylie said. “Look, I’ve got to go. I want you two to sit tight at the cabin. I’ll get word to you as soon as I’ve got something for you.”

  After he terminated the connection, Griff filled Maggie in about Dwight Conrad and the postwoman’s mugging.

  Maggie chewed on the corner of her lip and contemplated the street in front of them. “Would Dwight show up at the police department after he knocked out the maillady?”

  “Maybe he was trying to establish an alibi.”

  “When was she attacked?�
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  “No one knows for sure. They figure she was at least an hour behind her route when they found her.” Griff tried to move his leg. He’d pushed the seat back as far as it would allow. There still wasn’t any room, but he hated riding in the back seat. Being a passenger was hard enough.

  “Conrad’s too much of a coward to boldly walk into the station after he knocked someone on the head,” Maggie said.

  “He wants his job back. Maybe this was the plan all along. First he tries to get rid of you so there’s no reason why he can’t return.”

  “And when that didn’t work, he tried to find me through the phone billings. Afterward he attempts to cover his tracks by being at the police department when she’s found.” Maggie shook her head. “I still can’t see it.”

  “Wylie wants us to stick as close to the cabin as possible. We’d better head back.”

  Maggie hit the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. “I feel like we’re sitting ducks.”

  She had Griff’s full agreement. He wanted nothing more than to confront their tormentor face-to-face. If it were just him, he wouldn’t be cowering in the north woods. But there was still Maggie. She’d be out in the open if they went back.

  For now, they’d have to sit tight.

  Griff removed his sling after they returned to the apartment. Maggie had argued against it, but he insisted his arm would heal faster if the blood was free to circulate without being locked into place.

  Two hours later, as Maggie started preparing macaroni and cheese for their dinner, a knock sounded on the outside door.

  “Maggie, don’t—” Griff’s words were brought to a halt as she cautiously cracked open the door.

  He saw the color drain from her face. “What are you doing here?”

  Griff picked up his gun and pushed her aside to face their uninvited visitor.

  His gaze narrowed at the sight of Dwight Conrad standing on the front stoop. “Conrad. What are you doing here?”

  No wonder Wylie hadn’t been able to track down the former officer. He must have hightailed it out of town as soon as he’d left the department.

  “Hi, Murdock. I’d heard you two got married.” Dwight’s eyes shifted between Maggie and Griff. He thrust out his hand. “Congratulations.”

  Griff ignored the outstretched hand. From what he could tell, Conrad wasn’t packing a firearm beneath his long-sleeved T-shirt and khaki pants. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to pull something. “What do you want?”

  Conrad lowered his arm. “Man, this is awkward, isn’t it? With you on your honeymoon and all. But I need to talk to Maggie. Do you mind if I come in?”

  “Yes, we do mind. We’re on our honeymoon.” Griff wasn’t inclined to be remotely friendly or social. “How did you find us?”

  “I made a few calls. This place is listed in Wylie’s sister’s name. I met her husband once. The rest was easy.”

  Maggie ducked under the arm Griff had used to block the doorway, brushing aside his bodily attempt to shield her. “What’s so important that you had to knock out a postal carrier?”

  Dwight blanched. “You don’t think I had anything to do with that, do you? Why would I?”

  “You tell us,” Griff demanded, not hiding his contempt of his former peer.

  The other man stood a good three inches shorter than Griff. He’d permed his hair in an attempt to cover his rapidly balding head. There was little about the man Griff liked, especially his futile effort to look younger than he was. Conrad would always try to be something he wasn’t.

  When Griff refused to budge from the doorway, Dwight had the gall to wink at him. “I understand. You two want to be alone.”

  Griff’s patience had run out. He grabbed Maggie’s arm and started to pull her into the room. “Goodbye, Conrad.”

  “No. Wait.” The other man put out a hand. “Maggie, I need your help.”

  Maggie pulled her arm free from Griff’s grasp. She glared at him before turning her attention back to the former officer and her harasser. “What do you want, Dwight?”

  “I want you to put in a good word for me with Wylie. I need my old job back. I know we had a serious misunderstanding—”

  “You tried to coerce me into sleeping with you.”

  From the expression on Conrad’s face, he looked ready to argue. But he stopped when he realized Maggie was turning away from him. “You’re right. What I did was wrong, and I have no right to ask for your forgiveness. But my girlfriend is pregnant, and I need my old job.”

  Before Maggie could answer, Griff interrupted, “Did you try to take out Maggie at the wedding?”

  “No. Never.” Conrad’s vehemence rang truer than anything else he’d said so far.

  Maggie glanced at Griff. His expression remained stone cold.

  She once again eyed the balding man on their doorstep. There was nothing Dwight Conrad could do or say that would make her like him. He would always be the kind of person who would try to slide through the cracks without paying his due. But she didn’t wish him ill. He just wasn’t worth her anger or her contempt for that matter.

  “Why should Maggie put in a good word for you?” Griff asked.

  “Because she’s a woman. Women like babies,” he blurted out. “And my baby is going to need a father who can afford to feed it.”

  Maggie almost smiled. The weasel didn’t have a clue about how to be politically correct.

  He was right about one thing. She couldn’t hurt a child. But neither did she believe the Pendleton Police Department deserved having him back in their ranks.

  “I won’t intercede on your behalf at the department,” she said, “but I’ll ask Wylie to give you a character reference for a job somewhere else.”

  Before he could speak, she held out her hand to stop him. “There’s one stipulation.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You have to finish your drug treatment program. Your child deserves a drug-free parent.”

  His gaze shifted away. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

  Griff, who had held his peace until now, added, “You also keep your mouth shut about this place or seeing us. If you don’t, all bets are off.”

  Dwight gave a jaunty salute, spun around and left quickly.

  Maggie watched him go. “That poor baby.”

  Griff pulled her back into the cabin and locked the door. “He’s right, you’re too soft for your own good. He knew he could manipulate you.”

  “Are you telling me you don’t feel sorry for an innocent child?” Maggie tugged free from his grasp. “Compassion isn’t a sign of softness.”

  “Did you ever consider Conrad might not be on the level? He might not have a pregnant girlfriend.”

  “I considered it. Then I decided it didn’t matter. I don’t want him coming back.”

  “You don’t think he took a shot at us?”

  “No, do you?”

  Griff reached into the cupboard and retrieved his holster for the gun. “I don’t think he’s a good enough shot to have nailed me on that church step. But let’s follow him to make sure he’s not doubling back.”

  “Shouldn’t we contact Wylie?”

  “We’ll give him a call as soon we’re sure where our rodent is headed.”

  Chapter 11

  Dwight Conrad barely slowed down for the Jonas Falls city limits before catching the interstate south. There was no hint that he would make back to the cabin.

  Griff made the phone call to Wylie as Maggie made a U-turn with the station wagon.

  As soon as the older man answered, Griff filled him in on the recent events.

  “You think he’s headed back here?” Wylie asked.

  “If he wants a reference, he will.”

  “Fine. I’ll handle things on this end. In the mean time, maybe you and Maggie should leave the cabin and find another location.”

  Griff frowned. He lowered the phone and eyed Maggie’s remote face. “Wylie thinks we should leave the cabin.”

  Sh
e shook her head. “No. Running didn’t work the first time. If he tracks us here, then we’ll be waiting for him.”

  Griff gave her a grim smile and restored the receiver to his ear. “We’re staying.”

  Wylie didn’t sound pleased, but he didn’t argue, either. He promised to contact the local authorities in case Conrad returned to the area.

  Without another word, they drove back to the cabin to finish fixing the dinner they’d hastily abandoned.

  After Maggie cleaned up the dishes, she crossed the floor to where Griff lounged in the big leather chair, his leg draped across the hassock, studying another group of files.

  She peered over his shoulder and scanned the file he held.

  “That’s one of Dad’s old cases.”

  “BJ made more than a few enemies. Maybe one of them is the person who shot me and knocked out the mail carrier.”

  “Any luck?”

  “Maybe. Take a look at this one.”

  She sat down on the couch across from him and pulled the pages toward her. “Joe Flint? That name sounds familiar.”

  “It was a case that BJ worked with another officer while I took a sabbatical one summer to attend classes. I never met Flint, but the man was a real lowlife.”

  Maggie skimmed through the report. “He was found guilty of abusing and killing his stepson.”

  “Your dad was the key witness.”

  “Where’s Flint now?”

  “He was released from prison a month ago.”

  Maggie pushed aside the report. “But you didn’t have anything to do with the case. And this happened several years before I joined the department.”

  Griff posed his elbows on the armrest of the chair, steepling his fingers. “It wouldn’t be the first time someone transferred their hate for one individual to another. With BJ gone, we’d be the likely targets.”

  She flipped through the case file again and pulled out the mug shot of Joe Flint. “His hair was pretty thin in this picture. He’s probably bald by now.”

  “Which doesn’t help us much if he’s wearing a hair piece or a cap.”

  Maggie couldn’t stand feeling so inactive. She stood up and paced the small length of the room. “We’ll need to have Wylie check on this.”