Lullabies and Lies - By Mallory Kane Page 0,25
She was keeping Emily. I was out of town overnight, working on a case.”
Griff read the entry.
“Male voice. Age hard to tell. Possibly a phone booth. Background noise. ‘You’re messin’ in people’s lives. It’s gonna get you in trouble.’”
He raised his eyebrows. “She wrote it in dialect?”
“Lil believes the way people talk can tell a lot about them. She spells the words the way she hears them, in case we need proof for an ID. She also downloads all the calls and voice messages onto CD.”
“Where are the CDs?”
Sunny shook her head. “They were stolen in the break-in. Do you think the message was from Burt?”
“The timing is right. He would have just been released. But the warning is vague, nonspecific.”
“Like the notes.”
He nodded.
“What do you know about Means?”
“He apparently worked construction with Brittany’s best friend’s older brother. Brittany’s mother thought she was too young to date. So when she met Burt, she fell head over heels in love. You know how girls love the dangerous, physical type. Especially if they’re off-limits.”
He couldn’t help but wonder what her tiny shrug meant. Nor could he stop himself from imagining what type she liked. Probably the safe, buttoned-down accountant type.
Although this morning, dressed in those light blue capri pants and a dark blue linen shirt over a little white tank top, with her hair down and no makeup on, she looked nothing like the stiff businesswoman he’d met yesterday.
Griff’s cell phone rang. “Yeah?”
Sunny turned pages in the logbook, looking for other odd entries.
Griff muttered a curse and closed his phone. “That was Carver again. Means’s parole officer came up empty on his whereabouts. He hasn’t been in touch with him for over a week now. And he’s been in contact with Brittany Elliott again.”
Sunny’s heart thumped in her throat. “You think he has Emily? What did Brittany say?”
Was Emily in the hands of her angry biological father, who probably felt that he’d been wrongly imprisoned, and blamed Sunny for his troubles?
“Brittany’s mother heard her on the phone. But Brittany swears she hasn’t seen him since he got out.”
“They need to check her phone records—home and cell, and put somebody on her to watch her movements.”
Griff’s eyes sparked with a touch of disguised amusement.
She bit her lip. “They already are.”
He nodded, and let his hand brush her shoulder, nothing more than a touch, but the gesture comforted her. “You’re not the investigator in this case. You’re the mother. Let the police do their job, and you do yours. Show me the other odd messages, and try to remember any threats you’ve received, no matter how innocuous they seemed.”
Sunny continued going through the telephone log book with Griff watching over her shoulder.
The front doorbell rang. She looked up as the police officer on duty answered it.
It was Fred, the mailman.
“Hi, Sunny,” Fred said, peering around the bulky form of the officer. “Got something for you.” He held it up and wiggled it. “Funny thing, though, it doesn’t have a stamp—”
“Hold it!” the officer barked. “Put that down.”
Sunny’s heart jumped into her throat. “What’s the matter?” She stood and rounded the desk.
“Stand back, ma’am,” the officer cautioned, as Griff pushed past her.
Fred froze, wide-eyed. “It looked harmless enough. I thought maybe—”
“Put it down.” Griff commanded. “Carefully.”
Fred, pale and shaky, set the package on the ground and backed away from it.
Griff crouched down beside the package and studied the writing and wrapping.
“The print is block letters.” He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Carver.
“Carver, get the bomb squad over here. We’ve got a suspicious package. Small, about six by four inches. Height maybe three inches.” He snapped his phone shut and rose. “Officer, take the mailman outside and get a statement.”
The officer nodded and gestured to Fred, who followed him willingly.
“Sun—Ms. Loveless, go outside. Did I understand that Lillian lives next door?”
“Yes.”
“Get her and go down the block. At least two more houses. Wait there.”
“What are you going to do?” Sunny asked, eyeing the package.
“Stay here with the package.”
“No!” Sunny surprised herself by the vehemence of her outburst.
Griff looked up at her.
“I mean—if it’s a bomb, you should get away from it, too.”
He shook his head. “Someone has to guard it.”
“Well, why does it have to be you? Can’t we watch it from across the street or something?”
“I’ll watch it. You go with Lillian.”
“I’m staying with you.”
“That’s an unnecessary risk. What good are you going to be to Emily if you get yourself blown to bits? Get out of here.”
Chastened, Sunny had to admit that