Works of Darkness (Matt Foley/Sara Bradford series Book 1) Read online

  The threat of personal harm still hung over her. The danger wasn’t imaginary or exaggerated. As much as she’d tried to bury the fear, it was a physical presence that followed her.

  A light tap at the door made her swivel around. Charles Edwards stood in the entryway. “Hello, Sara. I wanted to tell you how pleased I am about your promotion. It couldn’t happen to anyone who deserved it more.”

  “That’s kind of you, Charles.”

  He leaned against the doorframe. “Need a lift home? I saw Chief Foley drop you off earlier, and his car isn’t in the parking lot.”

  “He’s coming back for me, but thank you.”

  Charles gave her a mock salute and turned to leave. “Don’t mention it. I’m trying to make brownie points with my new boss.”

  She picked up the phone and called Matt.

  CHAPTER 31

  Sara Bradford’s Home

  Sara had had a full day and she and Matt made the trip in silence. He pulled under the portico behind her rental car and killed the engine. His hands rested lightly on the steering wheel and he turned to face her.

  She waited. Apparently, he had something on his mind.

  “I think I owe you an apology.”

  “Matt—”

  He held up his hand, then rested it back on the wheel. “I need to say this. I put you through a lot of emotional pain, accusing you of Josh’s murder, because of circumstantial evidence and statistics.”

  “That’s been resolved, Matt. I don’t hold a grudge.”

  “You need to know why I acted the way I did. To understand how cops think. Perhaps, if Mary hadn’t been sick, and I’d had my head totally in the case, I wouldn’t have jumped to the wrong conclusion. But then again, I might have reacted the same way. Law enforcement deals with statistics. Most of the time they are reliable. More times than not, those averages are dead on. As you said, it’s over, but I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  “Apology accepted. Thank you for bringing my car home, and for the chauffer service.”

  His gaze lingered on her for a moment, and a shadow of a smile crossed his face. “Don’t mention it. I do this all the time. It’s part of my job description.” He got out, came around the car, and opened her door. “Remember, don’t leave without an escort.”

  She entered the foyer, glad to be home and anxious to see the children. They’d been getting ready for school when she got home this morning and she’d had little time to spend with them.

  Before she took three steps, a squeal from the second-floor landing shattered the quiet.

  “Sara, you’re home!” Danny straddled the banister, slid to the bottom, then bounded into her arms. Visions of him sliding down the rail and busting his head open, flashed through her mind. The stairs were something they needed to discuss. Soon.

  Sara gave him a hug. “Why are you home so early? I’d planned to pick you up at school.”

  He wiggled loose. “Teachers’ half-day off. We got a nice policeman who’s gonna live with us.”

  Processing this new revelation, Sara’s gaze landed on two black leather suitcases at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh, we do, do we? And who is this nice policeman?”

  “That would be me.” Don Tompkins, still in his Global uniform, strode from the kitchen, Maddie followed behind him. Don reached out to tousle Danny’s hair.

  Sara cast a questioning gaze at her aunt.

  “You were in such a rush this morning, I didn’t get a chance to tell you. I hired Don as a bodyguard. At least until Matthew finds out who’s responsible for the attempts on your life.”

  “That arrangement okay with you, Sara?” Don asked. “We felt your situation demanded immediate protection.”

  Sara removed her coat and hung it in the foyer closet. “I don’t have a problem with it. In fact, I think it’s an excellent idea. Wish I’d thought of it. Where’s your car? I didn’t see it when I came in.” To Maddie she said, “Has Beatrice set up a room for him?”

  “Yes. He was just on his way upstairs to settle in. I told him to put his car in the garage.”

  “Great.” Sara turned to Don. “Then I’ll see you at dinner.”

  She took Danny’s hand. “Where’s Poppy?”

  “She’s makin’ dinner with Miss Beatrice in the kitchen,” Danny said. “I hope they hurry. I sure am hungry.”

  Maddie winked at Sara. “This kid is a bottomless pit. However, he’s a great hand in the garden. He’s been Pete’s shadow all afternoon.”

  Sara called to Don at the top of the stairs. “Dinner will be at six-thirty. Better be on time or Danny may not leave anything for you.”

  ****

  They gathered around the table at the bay window for dinner. The meal took on a festive atmosphere when Sara told them the news of her promotion.

  After dinner ended, Sara took the children upstairs for a bath, and got them ready for bed.

  Once the children were safely tucked in, she joined the other two adults in the library for coffee.

  “How are you holding up, Sara?” Don asked.

  “To be honest,” she confided, “I’m feeling a little overwhelmed. But I can’t stay in a cocoon or hide under the bed until Matt catches this guy. I can’t live that way. Your being here gives an extra measure of security at home. Be assured, I’ll be extremely cautious. I have no desire to meet this guy alone again.”

  Maddie shivered. “I can’t bear the thought that he’s still out there somewhere. Perhaps we should leave town for a while, take a cruise or something.”

  “That would only postpone the issue.” Sara shook her head. “Besides, I can’t leave work now, plus, the children have school. Don can take me to work. I won’t make myself an easy target again. We’ll be okay, Maddie. Truly we will.”

  She felt almost as confident as she sounded.

  Climbing the stairs to her room, she plumbed her memory back to the night Penny vanished. Something about the dark figure who loaded the sleeping bag into the van pinged at her sub-conscious. But the elusive shadow danced through her mind without revealing his identity.

  In her room Sara undressed, changing into pajamas and a warm robe. She pulled her laptop from the bedside table and opened it. The screen was dark.

  With all that had happened, she’d forgotten her charger at work. She hadn’t checked her email since last Friday. With the Global buyout, she might have missed something important. She’d need to use Josh’s computer in the library.

  The bed looked tempting, but not now. She needed to take care of this before retiring.

  The library’s warmth invited her in. The fragrant aroma of oak and chestnuts wafted from the fireplace, filling her mind with memories of happier times.

  Deciding a cup of hot cocoa would be nice while she worked, she went to the bar, nestled in an alcove between the bookshelves. She retrieved a cup and a hot cocoa packet from the bottom shelf, filled the mug with water from the small sink, and placed it in the microwave.

  While the water heated, she sat down at the desk to boot the computer. Josh’s email account still existed. She should have taken care of that long ago. She signed on to delete any mail that might still be out there.

  As she scrolled down the subject lines, one with Matt Foley’s name in it jumped out at her. It was a message sent from Josh’s cell phone to himself. The day Josh died.

  What in the world?

  She opened the memo and began to read.

  Chief Foley:

  I may be paranoid, but I visited a man this afternoon, Robert Cook. He told me quite a story. Admittedly, he was seriously intoxicated, but I figured it was something you needed to know. He claimed to have witnessed the burial of a child who disappeared some years ago when he worked at a church retreat. I asked why he didn’t report it, but he never gave me an answer. The man who buried the body was—

  The persistent ding of the microwave in the background tried to distract her, but she couldn’t believe the story that unfolded. Her concentration was so intense she failed t
o hear when the man entered the library until he spoke.

  The voice came across the space between them, cold and threatening, the gun in his hand pointed at her heart. “I’d hoped not to have to do this face to face, Sara. I like you, strange as that may seem. But you have left me no choice.”

  Twin Falls Police Station

  Monday afternoon, the desk sergeant rapped on the door frame to Matt’s office. He looked up and motioned the officer inside. “What’s up?”

  “My shift just ended. I brought your messages.” He handed Matt two slips of paper, but held another one in his hand. “This is from an attorney, David Johnson. He called earlier. Said he represented a client who left an envelope with him some years ago, addressed to the police in the event of his death. Johnson wants to know if you want to pick it up, or if he should mail it.”

  Matt shoved his chair back. “Did he name the client?”

  The desk sergeant looked at the slip of paper. “Yeah, Robert Cook.”

  “Call him back. Ask him to wait for me. I’m on my way.” Matt grabbed his coat on the way out.

  Matt stood outside the attorney’s office with Robert Cook’s letter. He ripped the envelope open and read the contents. A scene from a B-movie from the ‘40s ran through his mind—where an extortionist left behind a letter identifying the killer he’d blackmailed, and why.

  It never happened in real life.

  But, here it was. A letter from the grave, naming Penny Pryor’s killer.

  All the threads came together. The name wasn’t a big surprise. Years in law enforcement gave Matt insight into the mindset of killers. The one fault they shared was an abundance of pride. It took a lot of arrogance for someone to believe he could commit murder and get away with it. Almost three decades after the fact, the scales of justice tipped in the right direction.

  Matt drove back to his office and reached for his desk phone. It rang before he lifted the receiver almost making him drop it. The call was from Miles Davis.

  “We lucked out, Chief. We couldn’t get a warrant to search the financial records of our suspects, but I did an end-around with Colin Connelly. Off the record, of course. One of the suspects had an account at Connelly’s bank. The account showed withdrawals a few days before the money was deposited into Cook’s account. We only checked back four months, but there’s no question in my mind. This is our guy.”

  “Who’s account?” Matt asked, but he already knew the answer. He listened as Davis confirmed it.

  “You guys deserve to make this arrest, but I want to tag along. Meet me at the department. I’ll get the arrest warrant issued. We’ll take care of this one tonight.”

  CHAPTER 32

  Sara Bradford’s Home

  Sara’s gaze flashed from the computer monitor to the face of Charles Edwards, whose steel gaze stared into her own wide eyes. Not sweet, gentlemanly Charles, the man she’d known for so many years, but a menacing stranger, holding a deadly looking weapon with a silencer attached.

  For a moment, she was too stunned to speak, then found her voice. “I can’t believe you’re responsible for all this, Charles.”

  She couldn’t deny the truth. Realization hit her like a rockslide. The posture that distressed her memory for days on end was distinctly his.

  He lowered the revolver and tightened the silencer, then moving in front of her, he raised the gun again, this time aimed at her head.

  A moment of uncertainty grabbed her as she watched him. Could this be some horrible nightmare she would soon wake up from? No, the man and the gun were all too real. She kept her voice calm. “How did you get in?”

  “It was quite easy.” His tone sounded almost weary. “When I drove your car to the hospital, after the explosion, I stopped and made copies of your keys––figured they might come in handy. I didn’t realize then it would be so difficult to get rid of you. You’ve left me no choice.”

  Sara shook her head. “People always have choices, Charles. The ability to reason and make the right decisions is what separates man from beast. What do you have in mind?” She needed to keep him talking. Don had to be nearby.

  Charles must have channeled her thoughts. “If you think Tompkins will come to your rescue, forget it. He tried to stop me when I came in. I had to shoot him.”

  “You killed Don?”

  Charles checked the gun’s silencer again, giving it a twist. “I’d hoped to make this look like a suicide, but Tompkins’ presence ruled that out. I planted your notebook in the Mustang a few years back. This week, when the Herald reported the police found the car, I knew they’d find the calendar. I hoped the authorities would assume you’d taken your life because of guilt for killing your husband. Now I must let the police form their own conclusions. Robbery, perhaps.”

  How could this seemingly gentle man be responsible for so much violence? “Why kill Penny? What reason could you have to murder a child?”

  “Actually, I didn’t, I only buried the body. The most difficult thing I’ve ever done.” He hesitated for a moment. “Marnie killed her. It’s difficult to believe even now this all began with an unavoidable accident.”

  Memories clouded his eyes. He seemed to want to tell the story. “I had four-weeks of R and R in Hawaii while stationed in Cambodia. Marnie was to meet me. At the last minute, I decided to surprise her, to fly home so we could travel back to the islands together.

  “We stopped off at a bar to celebrate. Marnie drank too much. She insisted on driving. We planned to spend the night at home then catch a flight out the next morning.

  “On the way home, Penny chased her dog into the street in front of our van. Marnie couldn’t stop. The front bumper struck the back of Penny’s head. The impact snapped her neck. I don’t believe I could have missed the child if I had been behind the wheel. Marnie braked, but too late.

  “I couldn’t let her face the scandal that would have followed, it would have meant prison. Marnie’s family always thought she married beneath her. They’d have blamed me for letting her drink and drive.”

  He shook his head as if to dismiss the recollection, and looked at a point above Sara’s head. “Curious that there wasn’t any blood. I’ve always wondered about that.”

  A chill crawled down Sara’s spine. He showed no hint of compassion for Penny and her family or for Josh’s death. He couldn’t be in full command of his faculties.

  “Even though it wasn’t her fault, Marnie would have gone to prison because her blood alcohol level was over the limit. There were no witnesses. I made a snap decision to remove the body. That wasn’t my most shining hour. It’s a decision I’ve regretted over the years. With a good attorney, we might have avoided all this.”

  “I saw you that night, when you came outside as I placed the body in my van. I watched to see what you would do. When you went back into your house, we drove away. I took Marnie home, then drove to the retreat grounds. You know the rest. I killed Josh and Tompkins to protect Marnie. One more murder won’t make any difference.”

  Sara could almost feel pity for him. “Does Marnie know about all the lives you’ve destroyed to protect her?”

  He shook his head. “She only knows about Penny. That’s all. The rest has been my secret. I didn’t want her to know. She would never have allowed me to go this far. She’d have turned herself in.”

  She couldn’t let Charles see Josh’s email. If his plan succeeded, the memo would give the police all they needed to convict him. She eased her finger to the computer tower and pushed the off button.

  One more question Sara had to ask. “Why did you kill Josh?”

  Charles raised his shoulders and let them drop. “Because he visited Robert Cook, who witnessed Penny’s burial. Cook watched it all from a window in the retreat, and had blackmailed me ever since. I made it a practice to keep tabs on him. He told me from the start if anything happened to him he’d left a letter with his attorney. The police would know what I had done. I didn’t know if the old man told the truth or not, but I couldn’t risk
the chance it was a bluff.

  “Josh answered the phone when I called Cook that afternoon four years ago. I figured Cook might feel the need to clear his conscience. A bit paranoid of me, I admit. I drove out to Cook’s place and saw your husband changing a tire. A traffic accident seemed harder to trace than a bullet.”

  A heavy breath left his chest. “All my efforts to protect my wife have been in vain. She has terminal cancer––a month or less to live. All I can protect now is her good name.”

  Sara leaned forward in the chair. “If Mr. Cook left a letter with his attorney, the police will find out, eventually. If you kill me, you’ll have another strike against you.”

  “You could be right.” Charles moved a step closer. “I can only hope the old man lied. If not, there’s always the possibility his lawyer might have died or misplaced the letter. Twenty-five years is a long time. Regardless, by the time that happens, Marnie will be dead. I won’t care what happens to me.”

  A slight movement in the doorway caught Sara’s eye.

  Maddie.

  Sara willed him to keep his attention on her. She had to keep him focused on her. “You planted the bomb in the forklift? I’m impressed, Charles. I didn’t know you were so handy with explosives. It isn’t everyday knowledge.”

  He gave a slight shrug. “A little talent I picked up in Cambodia. Brought a few samples home with me. The only useful thing the Army taught me. Except to kill without remorse.”

  Fear for Maddie and the children kept Sara calm. “How did you know I would move the lift?”

  “Elementary. Roger told me you would stay late to clean out your office. I knew you’d be alone. As a rule, you always checked the warehouse before you left for the day. You wouldn’t leave the lift unplugged. However, I didn’t expect you would put your handbag on first. You spoiled a lot of hard work.”