Trace of Doubt by DiAnn Mills

Author:DiAnn Mills [Mills, DiAnn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FICTION / Christian / Suspense, FICTION / Romance / Suspense
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers
Published: 2021-08-04T00:00:00+00:00

43

Each excruciating limp to the Pearces’ door instilled the need for one of Nurse Giggle’s wonder injections. And the need to find who was behind these crimes. Robins sang from a perch on a power line. The sky shone a bright, clear blue. A small boy pedaled a bike down the street, and a woman busied herself in a flower bed.

Isaac had given me the rundown on his exploits with Shelby. The two men who’d attacked him in the hotel’s parking lot and then in the stairwell had been identified as low-life thugs. One dead and the other lawyered up.

Clay must have seen me coming because the door opened before I raised a fist to knock. “Morning, Clay. This is Agent Mike Kruse. You probably recall him from Shelby’s case.”

Mike reached out to shake his hand, but Clay refused. His face hardened. “I remember. What’s the reason you’re back?”

I took the lead unless the interview went south. “We’d like to talk, ask a few questions.”

“About?”

“FBI business.”

“Why not a phone call?”

“It’s a sensitive conversation to have and one we prefer face-to-face.”

Clay stepped aside. “Make it quick. My wife’s sleeping, and when she wakes up, I need to be with her.”

I clumsily maneuvered my crutches by him and Mike followed. “Appreciate this,” I said. “How is your wife?”

The lines deepened in his face. “Not good. She sleeps most of the time. Heavily sedated. Hospice is a 24-7 job.”

“I’m sorry. Can’t imagine how hard this must be.”

Clay gestured into the living room. “We can talk in here, Agents.”

“Denton.”

“Mike.”

Clay nodded and eased onto a worn corduroy recliner where I’d sat previously. We sank onto a threadbare sofa. The tension in the room equaled when Shelby and I were there.

He pointed to my crutches. “How did you get beat up?”

“Rear-ended. Hit-and-run.”

“A drunk?”

“Doubtful.”

Clay drew in a heavy breath. “Do the questions have anything to do with your accident?”

“I think so. Since Shelby’s release, new information about the embezzlement case has surfaced.”

He froze. “Is she in trouble?”

“Someone wants her dead. She’s been threatened repeatedly, and right now the FBI has her in a safe house, the third attempt to keep her alive. The wrong people discovered the first two and attacked. Two agents have been shot.”

“She’s okay?”

“Yes.”

“The others will recover?”

“One of the agents on protective duty nearly lost his life.”

Clay dragged a hand over his face. “She was safer in prison.”

“Yes, sir.” I noted the distress around his eyes. “The FBI is on it, but progress is slow.”

“Where do I fit in this?”

“A shooter claimed Eli Chandler hired him.”

Clay stiffened. “Chandler?”

I nodded. “He worked for you six months after Shelby’s sentencing.”

“I fired him. Found him dipping his hands into the cash register.”

I leaned back. My leg hurt but taking a pain pill lessened my game.

“Do the names Nick Hanson, Arthur Shell, or Stan Watkins sound familiar?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you mind if I ask you something?” Mike said. When Clay motioned for Mike to go ahead, he continued. “Why didn’t you press charges against Chandler?”

“Rough times back then. Shelby had been convicted of manslaughter.

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