“We can’t make the arrest,” Deputy Deluca said.
“What?” Natalie screamed into the phone. “Thanks to me, you got what you needed! What more do you imbeciles have to have in order to arrest that woman?”
“The ballistics report was a match, but the prints on the gun weren’t Lily’s. The lab got a good set of fingerprints as well as a palm print. We’d already tested Lily Valier for powder residue when we brought her in for questioning and she’d come up clean. There’s no way she fired that gun.”
“Shit, shit, shit,” Natalie mumbled as she paced her room, a hand entwined in her hair, pulling. She’d been careful not to get any prints on the gun when she planted it, and even wiped it down before hiding it under her bed. There was no way they’d gotten a print. He was lying, trying to frighten her, but why? Maybe they’d planted evidence. Could they have put her dad’s prints on the gun out of desperation just to close the case?
“But you said the bullets matched the gun and the gun was Lily’s,” she whined, trying not to cry.
“Doesn’t matter. We found prints, and like I said, they weren’t Lily’s.” Antonio’s voice rose this time, driving home the point.
“Fix it! What do I pay you for?” Natalie yelled. Of course she couldn’t say what she wanted to, that she knew there couldn’t possibly be prints on the gun.
“No matter how much money you throw at me, I can’t do a damn thing about this. Wilkins brought the gun to the lab himself and waited for the report.”
“But I thought—”
“What? That having me in your back pocket would keep your dad out of prison? That I could make all your family troubles go away?”
“I could tell on you. What do you think would happen if I told Sheriff Wilkins I was paying you off?” Her voice held a lilt, a singsongy threat, like a taunting kid on the playground.
Antonio laughed. “You can’t prove a damn thing. Go ahead and tell, Natalie. You want a surefire way to make your dad look guilty? ’Cause telling my boss you’re paying me to keep him out of jail will make it seem like you know something we don’t. Maybe you’re obstructing justice. You’ll go to prison too.”
Her throat cinched. Antonio was right. She knew if Lily was in the clear, they’d have no choice but to come for her dad, and what if the prints were his? His alibi was flimsy. Had Deluca double-crossed her?
Antonio heaved a sigh. She pictured him sitting slumped in his car, probably in some doughnut shop parking lot slurping coffee and stuffing his face with those honey-glazed doughnuts he loved, his wispy-thin moustache twitching in frustration. Worse still, she sensed he was about to tell her something else she wasn’t going to like.
Her stomach knotted, and the bitter taste of bile rose in the back of her throat. “Just say it. I know there’s more.”
Another sigh. More silence.
“Goddamn it, Antonio. It’s my dad, right? You’re coming for him?” Anger seethed in her, threatening to erupt. How could he do this to her? Pretend he was on her side, take her money, make promises! She was backed into a corner and, like it or not, had to swallow her anger…for now.
“Yup. But…”
“But what?” she was almost screaming now. She thought of her dad and how haggard he looked. The stress was sneaking up on him again. The investigation combined with the pressures of his job scared her. What if he had a heart attack or a nervous breakdown? Then what would become of her?
“Your parents have been asked to come down to the station. We need a set of prints from both of them.”
Natalie puffed out a breath, then laughed so hard she nearly cried. Why on earth would they need her mother’s prints? But something broke in her at that thought. It meant they were after either of her parents, and apparently it didn’t matter which one. Lily was probably behind all of this. She’d gotten to Wilkins or Deluca and wriggled her way out of trouble yet again.
* * *
“What just happened?” Lily asked, stunned. They were still standing, and Aiden had just kissed her forehead.
Then he told her what Wilkins said, that they couldn’t arrest her because, even though the ballistics report concluded the bullets came from her gun, the finger and palm prints weren’t hers. They were back to circumstantial evidence. Since it was now clear she didn’t fire the gun, there was even the possibility the weapon was planted.
She was confused. “Why didn’t Wilkins tell me himself?”
“He said he called the diner first, then your cell and got no answer. Must be all the commotion in here. Can’t hear a bloody thing! He figured I’d be with you, so he called me. Doesn’t matter anyway, does it? It’s good news no matter how it got to you.” He smoothed her hair, and she thought he was going to kiss her again.
“Guess you’re right,” she said, and the relief that washed over her at the good news was too much to keep the smile from her lips.
“What happens next?”
He was still smiling. “You’re gonna love this. Zander and Gabrielle Lyons are on their way to the station.”
“No way!”
He nodded. “They need their prints.”
“Both of them?”
“Yeah. Guess Wilkins finally had enough sense to listen to me. I had a chat with him earlier today and suggested he have a closer look at not just Zander but his wife. She had just as much motive to want your sister dead as Zander, maybe even more.”
“I understand she’d be angry about the affair, but you’d think she’d be used to her husband’s infidelities by now, and Sara had all kinds of money of her own. She didn’t need Zander’s to raise the baby.” She shook her head. “It’s hard for me to believe Gabrielle is capable of murder.”
“You’re not looking at it the right way. It wouldn’t be because of money. It would be jealousy. Jealousy can make a person do all sorts of things. Don’t underestimate the power of that emotion. Zander Lyons is a notorious philanderer, and if he had a love child with another woman, think of how it would make Gabrielle not only feel but also look to the others in the community. At any rate, we’ll know more tomorrow. I’m gonna stop by to see Wilkins. Think I’ll collect that paycheck after all.”
Lily’s eyes widened. “You weren’t going to take your pay?”
He gave her a warm smile. “Not if they were going to arrest you.”
So his job was just about done. As soon as they arrested Zander or Gabrielle, Aiden would no longer be needed. Should she ask what his plans were? What if he said he was going back to Chicago? She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, but something very close to disappointment was creeping up on her.
“Can we get out of here now?” Aiden asked.
“To go where?”
“The cabin. Say you’ll come.”
She shook her head. “I want to go home. We can talk there if you like.”