Last Straw (A Rainy Day Mystery Book 7) Page 5

  I was speechless.

  “So you’re just going to stand there and do nothing? After all he’s done for you?”

  Her words hit home. Because despite what had happened between Gunnar and me in recent weeks, and besides the fact that he’d apparently spilled his guts to his daughter about our relationship, she was right. He had done a lot for me, perhaps more than anyone else in Latney. Yes, Declan had provided me guidance and support when I needed it, but Gunnar? Since day one, he had been the one to help out with projects in the house and the farm, to come over at a moment’s notice, no questions asked. He’d been the one to build me the chicken coop, the one to fix things when they broke. Even after our falling out, he hadn’t hesitated to come over when a storm blew roof tiles off the house and created some minor water damage upstairs. Our relationship status had never been a barometer for his willingness to help.

  And now Jill was asking me to get involved and do something to help her dad. I didn’t know what I could do to help Gunnar’s situation, other than maybe call a lawyer, but that was beside the point. I owed it to Gunnar to put our personal issues aside and at least offer my assistance.

  I darted a glance at Lucy. She was still clutching her necklace, a stricken expression on her face, and once again I was racked with guilt.

  I took a deep, steadying breath.

  I might feel bad about Lucy’s reaction to learning about my relationship with Gunnar, but there was something else I was determined to not feel guilty about.

  “I’ll do it,” I said.

  A glimmer of hope flickered in Jill’s eyes. “Do what?”

  “I’ll help your dad.”

  ELEVEN

  I’d just agreed to help Gunnar, but there was one thing I wasn’t so sure I was going to do.

  Tell my kids.

  I walked at a snail’s pace back to my house, ignoring the biting wind and frigid temperatures. I’d left Jill and Lucy with the assurance that I would head straight to Sheriff Lewis’s office, and I was planning on doing just that.

  But I didn’t want to tell either Luke or Laura what had just happened or where I was planning to go. Luke would be okay with it—nothing ever seemed to faze him—but Laura was another story.

  I instantly thought back to Laura’s visit during Thanksgiving, and her reaction to my involvement in trying to clear Dawn’s name. She had been accused of murdering her own brother, and even though Dawn and I were not friends, I’d felt bound to help her. Laura had been upset, not only because of the time I’d spent on the case, but also because she thought it was just another sign that Latney was an unsafe and therefore unsuitable place for me to live.

  What would her reaction be if I told her that I was heading to the sheriff’s office to help Gunnar? And that the reason he needed help was because massive amounts of marijuana had been found on his property?

  I knew what her reaction would be. Horror. Shock. And outrage.

  I sighed, and the cold air made my nose tingle. I didn’t want to deal with the drama. I just wanted to have a nice holiday with my kids, and enjoy the time they were here.

  But I also didn’t want to leave a friend hanging.

  If that’s what Gunnar was.

  I picked up my pace a little, more turtle-like than snail.

  I knew Laura would be upset, but there always seemed to be something that riled her up or kicked her anxiety up a notch. I couldn’t help in that department—I’d given up trying a long time ago—and I knew that I couldn’t control or be responsible for her reactions to things.

  What I could be responsible for were my own actions. And even though I had serious doubts as to just what I might be able to do for Gunnar and his current predicament, I knew there was one thing I felt duty-bound to do.

  Show up.

  This meant that I needed to find a way to get to the sheriff’s office, but hopefully without Laura and Luke knowing. And this would require my car, but I didn’t have my keys—or my purse—with me.

  I debated what would be the best way to get into the house to avoid detection. The keys would be in the kitchen, where they always were, so it made the most sense to use the back door. But that wasn’t the way I’d left with Jill, and it wasn’t the normal door I used, which might lead to questions if either of them saw me coming.

  “This is ridiculous,” I muttered to myself. I couldn’t believe I was contemplating the best way to sneak into my house. I was a grown woman, for crying out loud, someone who just wanted to help a friend.

  But I also wanted to avoid a confrontation with my kid if I could help it.

  I took a deep breath and marched up the steps to the front porch. If Laura was there, I would tell her what I was doing, plain and simple. She would just have to deal with it.

  And if she gave me grief, well, I would just have to deal with that, too.

  TWELVE

  Someone was crying inside the sheriff’s office.

  Thankfully, it was not Gunnar.

  The sound of a wailing baby greeted me as soon as I stepped into the small building that served as the Bueller County Sheriff’s Department. I’d gotten in and out of my house in less than two minutes, with neither kid to be seen anywhere. It had been a Christmas miracle.

  Cindy, the receptionist, was seated behind her desk, bouncing a red-faced baby in her arms. It had been a long time since my kids were babies, but I’d put the little girl at ten months, tops.

  Cindy glanced at me with alarm, then straightened her features into a more professional expression.

  “Can I help you?” she asked.

  “I’m here to see Sheriff Lewis.”

  Cindy fumbled for the pacifier that was hanging from the baby’s lips and shoved it back in her mouth. The baby sucked furiously, her lips smacking against the hard plastic.

  “He’s, um, conducting an interview,” Cindy said haltingly. I wondered if she’d ever had to utter those words in her time as the receptionist there. “With a suspect.”

  Gunnar.

  “It’s kind of important that I see him,” I said. When she gave me a doubtful look, I added, “It’s about the search warrant he had for my property.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Your property? I thought he had one for…” Her voice trailed off.

  “It will just take a minute,” I said. “Two, tops.”

  Cindy shook her head, and the baby reached out a hand and grabbed a fistful of hair. Cindy winced, twisting her head to get away from the baby’s grip. “Tabitha, no,” she scolded.

  “Tabitha.” I motioned toward the baby in her lap. “Is she related to you?”

  Cindy smiled proudly. “My granddaughter.”

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “Isn’t she?” Cindy gushed, staring adoringly at the little girl who was still fervently trying to grab her grandma’s hair again. “I just love those blue eyes! And those lips. Have you ever seen such perfect little lips?”

  I didn’t want to say that I couldn’t actually see Tabitha’s lips because the massive pacifier was blocking them from view, but I just nodded and smiled. “Not ever,” I told her.

  I shouldered my purse and let out a soft sigh. “Alright, well, since he’s busy, I guess I can just stop by later. But I really did want to tell him what I found. I think it might help with the case he’s working on.”

  Cindy juggled the baby from one side of her lap to the other. “The case?” she repeated. “You know what he’s working on?” She glanced toward the hallway, where the sheriff’s office was located, and then back at me. “And who he has in there?”

  I nodded. “I might have found something he’ll want to know about. Something that is definitely related to Gunnar.”

  Cindy’s eyes widened as she considered my words. “It’s related to the case?”

  “Absolutely.” I was lying, but there was no way Cindy would know this.

  Actually, I wasn’t really lying. I did know something about the case, something he would want to know about. I knew that the likelihood
of him having two search warrants for two different properties was slim, so he had probably searched one of ours illegally. And if the illegal search had been done on Gunnar’s property, he might not have a leg to stand on when it came to bringing up charges.

  I was sure this wasn’t information the sheriff would want to know about, but it was something I certainly wanted to tell him.

  “Well,” Cindy said, thinking for a moment. “I suppose you could head back and just pop in there, tell him what you know. Probably no harm in that, right?” She looked to me for confirmation.

  I nodded. “No harm at all. He’ll probably be grateful for the info.”

  Tabitha lunged for her grandma again, landing a new fistful of hair. Cindy ‘s face screwed up in pain. “Stop that, Tabitha!”

  I didn’t wait for final approval. I just shot her a sympathetic look and hurried past her so she wouldn’t have time to reconsider.

  The sheriff was seated behind his desk and Gunnar was across from him. Gunnar’s back was to me but I could see Sheriff Lewis’s expression, and I could tell right away that he was irritated.

  I cleared my throat and Gunnar swiveled in his seat to look at me.

  The sheriff frowned. “What are you doing here?” he growled.

  Gunnar said nothing, just stared at me blandly.

  I swallowed. “I’m here to help my friend.”

  THIRTEEN

  “You are not welcome here.”

  I didn’t budge from my position in the doorway. “I have some information for you,” I told the sheriff.

  “Cindy!” he roared.

  A minute later, Cindy appeared in the hallway, holding Tabitha. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she popped her head into the office. “She said she had some things to tell you that might help with the case…”

  “I am conducting an investigation!”

  I’d had enough. “A fraudulent investigation.”

  Sheriff Lewis glared at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “I want to see the search warrant.”

  “No.”

  “I have a right to see it,” I told him. Again, I had no clue if this was true or not, but I also knew the sheriff didn’t, either.

  “I already showed it to you.”

  I shook my head. “You waved it in the air. I didn’t get the chance to read it.”

  “Too late,” he said.

  “There’s an expiration on reading legal documents?” I raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I need to put a call into the judge you got it from. I’m sure that information won’t be hard to find.”

  Uncertainty flickered across his face. Just as quickly, his frown reappeared and he grunted. He shoved his hand into his pocket and produced the folded up warrant and slapped it down on his desk “You wanna read it, fine. Come read it.”

  I approached the desk and picked up the piece of paper. My eyes immediately zeroed in on the address and I felt both vindicated and defeated. My address was not on the warrant.

  But Gunnar’s was.

  I decided to focus on one thing at a time. “This isn’t my address.”

  “So?”

  I held it up so both the sheriff and Gunnar could see. “You searched my property illegally.”

  The sheriff shrugged. “Honest mistake. My eyesight isn’t too good these days.”

  I gaped at him. “That’s all you have to say? This was a violation of my constitutional rights. No illegal search or seizure.”

  “I told you,” he repeated, his eyes narrowed to slits. “It was an honest mistake. Besides, we didn’t find anything so no harm done.”

  I couldn’t believe he could be so dismissive about it.

  “Anyway,” he continued, “We did find what we were looking for. And that’s what matters.”

  I didn’t want to agree with him, but I knew he was right. My one hope—that Gunnar’s property had not been listed on the warrant and therefore would render the evidence inadmissible—had disappeared.

  “What made you request a search warrant in the first place?” I asked.

  “I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “Bet I can guess,” I said. “You got information that drugs were on the property. Someone tipped you off.”

  The sheriff remained silent, his lips pressed tightly together.

  “So someone told you that you’d find drugs on Gunnar’s property and, lo and behold, you did. Is that right?”

  More silence.

  I glanced at Gunnar. Dark circles encircled his eyes, and his hair looked as though he’d run his hand through it a thousand times.

  “Did you ask Gunnar if the drugs were his?” When the sheriff didn’t answer, I addressed Gunnar. “Do the drugs that were found on your property belong to you?”

  Gunnar shook his head. “No.”

  “Any idea how they got there?”

  “No,” he said again. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “I haven’t been out in the barn for at least four days. Been busy with the holidays and with Lucy and Jill coming to town.”

  “So the drugs do not belong to you and you don’t know how they ended up on your property?”

  The sheriff slammed his fist on his desk and got to his feet. “I am conducting this investigation!”

  “If you were conducting an investigation, you would have already asked these questions,” I said evenly. “What you are participating in is a witch hunt. You got a call about drugs, got a search warrant, illegally searched a property, then searched another one where you found exactly what you were told you would find. Doesn’t that seem a little suspicious? A little bit like a set-up?”

  The sheriff’s face was beet red, his eyes bulging. He looked like a teakettle ready to blow. “Why…why…” he sputtered.

  “Look, I’m just pointing out what I see,” I said, trying to keep my own anger and irritation under control. “Maybe try asking Gunnar some legitimate questions instead of just assuming the worst.”

  “Gunnar is my friend,” Sheriff Lewis said. “I’m not assuming the worst.”

  “You’re not giving him the benefit of the doubt, either,” I pointed out. “You’re not exploring all the possibilities, which is what a good investigator would do.”

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Because the implication was there: the sheriff was not a good investigator. I knew this to be true, and had no problem voicing this opinion to others when asked, but it was the first time I’d said it so bluntly to his face.

  “Rainy.” Gunnar’s voice was soft but laced with warning. “The sheriff is a good man. He’s just doing his job.”

  “Darn right I am!”

  I held my ground. “Gunnar just said the drugs aren’t his, and he doesn’t know how they got on his property.”

  “And I have a couple of pounds of marijuana in my possession that were found in his barn.” The sheriff pounded his desk again. “I can’t just walk away from the evidence.”

  “I understand,” Gunnar said, and I could tell he was being sincere. He didn’t sound upset at all, which was about as shocking to me as the sheriff finding marijuana in his barn. “It’s just that Lucy and Jill are in town…and it’s Christmas…”

  The search warrant was still in my hands.

  “Timing isn’t the greatest,” the sheriff conceded. He stroked his moustache as he thought. “Tell you what. Why don’t we shelve this?”

  I cocked my head. “Shelve what?”

  “The investigation.”

  I almost fell over. “Excuse me?”

  Sheriff Lewis looked at me like I was daft. “You heard the man. It’s Christmas. His family is in town. Least we can do is hold off on charges until after the holidays.”

  I blinked a couple of times and shook my head. I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. “Hold off on charges?”

  He nodded.

  It shouldn’t have surprised me. Nothing the sheriff did should surprise me. But it did. He had been so gung ho about his search, so triumphant he’d been proven right w
hen he’d found what he was looking for, and now he was ready to…put it on hold?

  “You’d do that?” Gunnar asked.

  The sheriff nodded. “Of course,” he said gruffly. “What’s a few days in the grand scheme of things?”

  I kept my mouth shut.

  A few days could mean everything in a case.

  Especially to someone who was looking to clear his name.

  If the sheriff was willing to wait, then I was going to run with it.

  Because it might be just the opportunity I needed to help get to the bottom of what was really going on.

  FOURTEEN

  “You didn’t have to give me a ride home.”

  Gunnar and I were in my car, leaving the parking lot of the sheriff’s office.

  “Well, I wasn’t exactly going to let you walk back to Latney,” I replied.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  I glanced over at him. His large frame filled the passenger seat, and he looked almost too big for the seat he was occupying.

  “You don’t have to thank me.”

  “Yeah, I do,” Gunnar said. He leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. “And thank you for coming here. For checking on me.”

  “Isn’t that what friends do?”

  He opened his eyes. “That’s what I would have done.”

  I backed out of the parking space with Gunnar still visible in my peripheral vision. I knew his statement probably hadn’t been made as a dig, but it sort of felt like one.

  Once we were out of the lot and on the road, I said, “Is there anything I can do to help? Jill was pretty upset when she told me the news.”

  “I was wondering how you’d found out. Figured the gossip mill had already started.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “She came over right after the sheriff found the…stuff.” I hesitated. “It’s not yours, right?”

  “The marijuana?” Gunnar snorted. “No. It’s not mine.”

  He’d already said as much, but a small wave of relief washed over me to hear him say it again, definitively, and outside of the sheriff’s presence.