Cry wolf, p.22
Cry Wolf, page 22
“I get it,” I lied. I didn’t get it at all. Sure, she might have been able to put such a gadget together, but I just didn’t see her using it.
But if not, why was she telling me this?
“Now, I’d really rather you not let the detectives know. If they start to arrest the wrong person, I’ll of course step up and tell them the truth. But for now, I don’t want to be interrogated further if I can avoid it, and I definitely don’t want them to arrest me.”
“I understand,” I said. And I did understand that part.
Just not why she’d done it. Or, if she hadn’t, why she was lying this way to me.
To protect someone? If so, who?
Wayne, maybe. He was her boss as well as mine. But I’d already stuck him way down on the list of suspects.
The most logical person, then, was Bill. He hung out with her a lot. Did they have something more between them than just a food prep relationship?
I did recall that Bill and Oliver hadn’t seemed to be best buddies. Was that because Oliver had been coming on to Marnie and Bill hadn’t liked it?
That seemed like a stretch to me.
Under these circumstances, though—with Marnie confessing despite, in my opinion so far, it being a lie—that was the best explanation I could come up with at the moment.
But I didn’t just want things to stop there. “But what do you want me to do?” I asked her. “You’ve confessed to murder. You know I have the ear of one of the detectives, and I’ve been fighting to make it clear I’m not the guilty party. If you didn’t want me to tell anyone, why did you confess to me?”
She had stopped looking directly at me and now stared down at the counter. From this angle, I could see tears at the edges of her eyes.
“I don’t know. I shouldn’t have, even though you seem to be the one around here who’s been trying hardest to find Oliver’s killer. Forget it.”
“Are you trying to protect someone?” I demanded. Like Bill? If not him, who? But I didn’t add that.
“No,” she said, then, “Forget it.” Then she added, “I’m just so confused and concerned about what might happen to Juneau Wildlife World if that murder isn’t solved soon. I didn’t want to think you’d killed Oliver, but it would have made things easier if the troopers believed you did and arrested you, so everyone could think all was now well here.”
Nice. We weren’t really friends, after all. Even so …
“But all wouldn’t be well here. Not really. Not with the real killer still out there. Who knows why whoever it was did it, who they might go after next?” I paused. “Although it sounds as if you have the answers to that.”
“Right, since it’s me.” But she was looking down toward the floor now, her expression miserable.
I had an urge to hug her. I also had an urge to dash out of the room with Sasha and call Detective Christopher and let her know this wonderful news of a confession.
But I didn’t believe it.
“Look, Marnie,” I said. “I can understand your stress. I think everyone here feels it at least somewhat, and I may genuinely still be near the top of that suspect list despite the fact I shouldn’t be. But if you’re trying to protect someone, just consider the potential consequences. I mean—” I hesitated, then said, “The person I see you with the most is Bill. Did he—?”
“Kill Oliver?” She appeared shocked. “No way. And there’s nothing between us anyway, Stacie. I think he might like there to be, but though I like the guy, I don’t like him that way. If I thought he was guilty, I’d say something.”
Would she? Was this as much of an act as her confession? I wasn’t sure what to think.
But I didn’t get to continue asking questions, since the person I had a feeling she was trying to protect, despite her denial, came through the door into the kitchen just then.
Uh-oh. If he truly was the guilty party, what would he do if he thought she’d confessed? Did he care enough about her to protect her the way she might have tried to protect him and still tell the truth?
Or would he act as if he was shocked at this news but believed in her guilt?
Marnie slipped off the stool and took a few steps toward Bill. Her expression had changed completely, and she seemed to have regained her poise. She was smiling now. “Hey, assistant, how did you know I needed your help right now? Stacie’s offered to help some too, but I want to get a couple more packages ready tonight so I can head out early tomorrow to one of the farthest areas, hopefully before the weather gets a lot worse.”
“Sounds good. Let’s get it together as soon as possible.”
Would it be okay for them to be alone together now? Well, why not? They’d still be here in the kitchen, after all. They’d been alone in the wilds of the park before without any issues. And if they were protecting each other, why stop now?
And I still didn’t know who Marnie had been attempting to protect, if anyone. She’d seemed to make it clear it wasn’t Bill. I didn’t understand why she’d confessed, and her reason of trying to protect Juneau Wildlife World made a teeny bit of sense, but not much.
I doubted either of them wanted my company any longer, which was a good thing. Even so, I said, “Guess you won’t need my help now, since there are two of you.” That gave Marnie—or even Bill—the opportunity to request that I stay for whatever reason, actual food preparation or additional company in case either of them felt discomfort.
“That’s right,” Marnie said. “Thanks for stopping in.”
“We’ll be fine,” Bill added.
I certainly hoped so.
Pulling gently on Sasha’s leash, I led my pup out the door, stopping just before leaving to glance toward Marnie. She was bending over the counter, Bill at her side. They were pulling things out of one of the now-opened plastic containers of food that I’d seen on the counter and apparently starting to combine them.
Hopefully that would be good for some of the animals, I thought, and we left.
I walked Sasha briefly in the increasing snow flurries, glad we weren’t heading into the farther territories again today, a bit sympathetic that Marnie and Bill might be.
Or should I be sympathetic? I now figured that one or both of them had to be at the top of my suspect list in Oliver’s death.
It made sense to put Marnie there, since she’d confessed, though I didn’t really believe her words.
Should I believe her?
I was more inclined to suspect she was protecting someone, and notwithstanding her denial, the logical one seemed to be Bill.
Yes, I’d witnessed some interactions among Oliver and both of them, together and individually. Though I’d sensed they weren’t great buddies, I hadn’t figured they were enemies, especially not murderous ones.
Marnie had told me already that Oliver had hit on her but she’d rejected him. Had she done the same with Bill?
If she hadn’t been lying in her confession, did that mean Bill was in danger?
Okay. Enough. I walked Sasha briefly, and then we returned to our apartment. I felt really confused. Upset.
As we entered, I made sure the door was locked behind me as I always did. There was a murderer around somewhere, after all, whether or not it was Marnie.
I went into the small kitchen with Sasha following me. Too bad I didn’t have any wine or beer. A small drink sounded like a good idea.
But I figured I should just feed my dog and eat dinner myself while I thought about that day—and Marnie’s sort-of confession.
And that’s what I did, taking care of Sasha first. I hardly tasted the food I put together from the mixes I’d brought—a tuna casserole for now.
As I ate, I considered calling Detective Christopher. Maybe I should have done so right away after leaving the company of Marnie and Bill. I still might. I had her contact information, after all, and she’d figure it was something important if I tried to contact her.
But what good would it do? It was getting late in the day. I figured I could ponder it more tonight and call her in the morning. But what could I really tell her, with Marnie backing down that way and my feeling fairly certain that, whatever the reason she’d falsely confessed, I wasn’t much closer to figuring out who’d killed Oliver?
Although my mind was now whirling around the possibility of Bill.
Hey, maybe I should call Lettie. My assistant was quite perceptive. Would she know if those two were, or were becoming, an item? That would give Bill a motive to kill Oliver, I supposed, since Oliver had apparently been attempting to cozy up to Marnie.
I hadn’t seen her since this morning but figured she was enjoying herself out on the grounds, hiking the trails, viewing the hills and mountains and doing even more of what I loved.
It was late enough that she likely had returned. I called her as I sat at my small kitchen table, Sasha at my side.
“Hi, Stacie,” she said almost immediately. “How are you? How are things at Juneau Wildlife World?”
“You’re not here?”
“Unfortunately, no. I left this morning after my boss at the school asked me to come in for an important meeting early this afternoon, and Wayne was okay with me leaving. And now that the weather is acting up even more and is supposed to get worse, I don’t know when I’ll get back there.” She hesitated, but before I could say anything, she asked, “Is everything okay? I mean—nothing bad has happened again, has it?”
Like another murder? Or how about a weird nonconfession? “No, everything’s fine,” I said. “I was just hoping we could get together for a beer or something this evening, but we’ll do it another time.”
No sense troubling her over what was going on in my mind. I had no answers, after all.
“Okay. But you sound a little strange, Stacie. You’re sure everything’s all right?”
“Yep. As I said, I was hoping for some friendly company besides Sasha, but now I’ll just look forward to it whenever.”
And look forward to having someone I trusted to talk to … Well, it all would have to wait.
“Okay. I’ll come back as soon as I can.”
“Fine,” I said. “Have a good night, Lettie.”
“You too.”
I figured I would, I thought as I hung up. Even so, I considered again when I’d call the detective, but there was nothing really helpful I could tell her. Certainly nothing that couldn’t wait until tomorrow. I knew she wouldn’t hop in her car and drive here in a hurry if I told her Marnie had confessed and recanted.
That didn’t exactly solve the crime. Although I recognized I had to let the detective know that, as absurd as it was.
I thought about who else I wanted to talk to as I sat down on the small sofa and prepared to turn on the television. Liam.
We didn’t seem to be close buddies any longer, but I missed him.
I also missed the fact that he was a trooper who might be able to advise me. But did I really need any advice right now?
What could I say to him? That I was okay? Sure. That someone had confessed to me, maybe as a joke?
I figured he would be interested in that, at least. I gave in and called him as I sat a bit straighter on the cushions.
He answered immediately. “Stacie! Good to hear from you. Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” I said, trying to sound upbeat. I pictured him: his short dark hair, handsome face, deep-brown eyes … and uniform, which I assumed he wasn’t wearing now. “I haven’t been arrested yet, although I figure you’d know it if I had been.”
“Most likely. Are you at your home? Maybe I could come over now and—”
“No, I’m staying in an apartment at the sanctuary right now rather than commuting. But I’ve been having good meetings with Detective Christopher. She was here earlier today. She wanted to discuss my thoughts on suspects and indicated that, though I’m not exonerated, there’s no immediate likelihood of my being taken into custody.”
“Glad to hear that.” He seemed to pause, then said, “And who did you tell her you suspect?”
“Everyone,” I said. “And no one. But—” Okay, should I tell him about this odd afternoon?
Why not? It wouldn’t hurt to get his opinion.
“But what?”
“Well, I had an odd thing happen. I heard a confession.”
“What? From who?”
“That’s the odd thing. It was from one of the people here I suspect the least, and then she retracted it. Marnie, who’s in charge of food preparation for the animals. I started to ask questions, assuming she was attempting to protect someone, and she said she’d given a false confession because she just wanted to try to do something to protect the whole sanctuary, which didn’t make a lot of sense. I thought she might be attempting to protect one of the guys who’s here a lot and helps her out quite a bit, but she claimed that wasn’t the reason. Then that guy came in, so we stopped talking.”
A pause. Then Liam said, “Even if it was false for some weird reason, I really don’t like this. I’m going to give Lillian—Detective Christopher—a call. I’m still not supposed to be involved, but it’s not like I’m on my way there … yet.” He sounded concerned, which I appreciated. “We’ll be in touch again tomorrow, believe me. And in the meantime, be damned careful.”
Oh, I still cared for this guy, and he appeared to care for me too, at least in some ways.
“I will,” I said. “Thanks, Liam. And—”
“And what, Stacie?” His voice was soft, and I had an urge to stroke his cheek, as if he were next to me.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
Then the call was over.
I watched TV for a couple of hours. When it was nearly time to go to bed, I knew I had to take Sasha out first. Remembering Liam’s sweet warning—not that I wasn’t planning on being careful anyway—I got the pepper spray from the drawer where I kept it when I wasn’t carrying it and stuck it my pocket.
I looked around when I opened the door, and then we went downstairs. We walked around the main area of the apartment building to the side, in the cold and increasing snow.
Suddenly, Sasha stood at attention. “What’s up, girl?” I asked.
And then I saw Bill walk from behind the building, coming toward us. That seemed strange. Why was he out here at this hour?
Just to get some air? Or was he heading toward the vending machine building for something to eat?
“Hi,” I called out to him. “What brings you out here so late?”
It was probably no big deal, but I nevertheless let one hand drop to my side so I’d be able to grab my pepper spray if necessary.
“You do,” he growled as he got a lot closer.
Sasha tensed, and I felt certain my dog, who was my defender, was ready to protect me if necessary.
I hoped it wasn’t, but I didn’t tell her to sit.
“What do you mean?” I asked, then gasped as he pulled a large kitchen knife from behind his back.
He swung it first at me, but immediately drew it down so it pointed at Sasha.
“Let’s go inside and talk,” he said, “and I’ll tell you. But keep your dog away from me or I’ll stab her.”
No! I couldn’t let him hurt my Sasha. But I was too far away to aim pepper spray at his face, and I’d no other way I could immediately think of to stop him.
Was he about to confess to Oliver’s murder? Because he’d really done it, or to protect Marnie?
Or was he doing this for some other reason?
Didn’t matter. I was going to defend my defender, no matter what.
“Okay,” I said, trying to keep my voice from quivering. “Let’s go talk.”
Chapter Twenty-One
What was I going to do now?
What else could I do? Holding Sasha’s leash, I walked inside the now dimly lit welcome building with Bill—and it didn’t feel so welcoming right now. Especially since Bill was at my side, the one opposite Sasha, much too close.
Certainly close enough to stab me if he chose.
He was wearing his black sweatshirt and dark pants, which would have made it hard for anyone outside to see him. Including me.
Until it was too late.
The lobby was empty. No lights were on upstairs to indicate anyone was in an office.
We headed down the hall to the kitchen. At this hour, Marnie most likely wasn’t there, but I supposed it was the area here most familiar to the man who was now holding me hostage.
The man who’d killed Oliver? I definitely thought so now.
He wanted to talk. To confess? Something else? And now that he’d brandished a knife at me and my dog, what was going to happen? Did he intend to kill us too?
How could he let us go after this?
Once inside the kitchen, I wasn’t sure what to do, where to go. Or how to save us.
I turned slowly in a way I hoped didn’t appear threatening and saw him close the door behind him, still holding the knife in front of him. Unfortunately, I hadn’t seen anyone else in the building who might have noticed what was going on and called the authorities.
“Where would you like me to go now?” I asked, just standing there.
He gestured to the stools facing the counter. “Sit down,” he said, and I headed that way, Sasha at my side.
It felt familiar. That was what Marnie had had me do too.
But unlike Marnie, Bill didn’t sit on the stool beside me, at least not immediately.
Instead, he edged backward to a cabinet with quite a few drawers in it and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out a large white plastic bag. “I’d hidden this under a lot of stuff in one of the refrigerator rooms before,” he said, “but it’s necessary now for me to use it.” He joined me then at the counter, the knife pointing at me with one hand and the bag in the other.
I gestured carefully to Sasha to keep her sitting at my side. I knew she was uneasy and had the sense that things around her were bad. Maybe that her human was in big trouble.
But I definitely didn’t want this guy to hurt her.
Not that I wanted him to hurt me either.
I could guess what was in the bag but waited for Bill to do whatever it was he’d planned, at least for now. I thought about the pepper spray in my pocket, but with the knife still aimed at me, I wasn’t sure what he’d do if I attempted to spray him now, how I’d avoid getting stabbed, so I just sat there.
