Her Mother’s Grave

Chapter Sixty-One

The glowing green numbers of Noah’s digital clock announced that it was after ten a.m. Josie sat up with a start, throwing the covers off her. Sunlight peeked around the edges of his bedroom shades. Why the hell hadn’t he woken her up? Was he really that angry with her? Had he come home at all? Snatching her cell phone off the nightstand, she saw she had no messages. Something wasn’t right. She threw on some clothes and went downstairs. Everything was exactly as she had left it when she’d trudged up to Noah’s bedroom the night before. The coffee pot was empty, a sure sign he hadn’t come home.

A small kernel of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. Since she had been chief, there hadn’t been a single day that she hadn’t gotten at least three phone calls before ten a.m. Even on her days off. She raced upstairs to grab her things before dashing to her car. Hopping into it, her right foot searched for the gas pedal but didn’t find it. It was then that she noticed how far back her seat was from the steering wheel.

“What the hell?”

A slow panic tingled through her. She slid her seat back up and broke three traffic laws getting to the station house. Sergeant Lamay sat at the lobby desk. Josie could tell by his wide eyes that something wasn’t right. She passed through the door that separated the public from the rest of the building and advanced on Lamay. “What the hell is going on?”

Lamay spoke in a whisper. “There’s been an incident. Well, a murder. Bad one. Boss… I know it wasn’t you. We all do. But the fire marshal called the mayor ’cause he didn’t trust Fraley or Palmer to handle it. Least, that’s what he said when he showed up here with her a few hours ago.”

Josie’s heart began to race, the tingle in her body now a hard vibration. “A few hours ago?” she hissed.

Lamay looked behind her to make sure they were still alone. “They were going to pick you up.”

“Pick me up? You mean arrest me?”

Lamay nodded. He leaned toward her, and the chair creaked beneath his rotund frame. “You can still go, Boss,” he told her. “I’ll take care of the cameras.”

Josie put a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, but that’s not necessary.”

“Boss, it’s bad.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I am the chief of police in this town, and this is my department, my station house. Where are they?”

Lamay’s shoulders rounded. He fidgeted with one of the buttons on his uniform shirt. “Conference room.”

Josie turned to go but stopped before she reached the hall that would lead her deeper into the building and closer to her doom. She thought of her grandmother, then Misty and baby Harris. A sick feeling invaded her stomach. “Lamay,” she said. “The victim. Was it a woman? Or a child?”

“No,” he said. “It was the owner of that body shop over on Sixth and Seller. Not too far from where Zeke was picked up the other night.”

The color drained from her face.

“You okay, Boss?” Lamay asked.

No. She was not okay. Words failed her. She steadied herself with a hand against the wall.

“Did you know him?” Lamay inquired.

Bile rose in the back of her throat. “Sort of.”