“I think he likes to gamble more than a little, Sheila. I think Packard has a problem.” I felt like crap springing this on her, but I knew that somehow it was all tied up with Axton’s kidnapping.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You don’t know my husband.” She grabbed a hand towel from the counter and refolded it. “He likes to play a little poker. He likes to go to Vegas a couple of times a year. That’s not a problem.”
“Then why did he lie about it?” I asked.
She threw her hands in the air. “I don’t know. Maybe he just wanted to have a few hours to himself. He deserves it, you know. He works really hard.”
“Why wouldn’t he just go to a casino then?” Roxy asked.
Sheila put her hands on her hips. “How do I know you’re not lying? You could be making all this up. And Axton’s probably not even missing, he’s probably out somewhere living it up while Packard’s getting questioned by the police.”
“Why would we lie about this, Sheila?” I asked. “What would we have to gain from it?”
“I don’t know. But following my husband is…intrusive.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “You came to me.”
“Well, that was a mistake. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He’s just stressed from work.”
“Sheila—”
She crossed her arms over her chest and jutted her chin toward the door. “You need to leave.”
I shot Roxy a look. We hopped off the barstools and headed for the door. As we walked to the car, I glanced back. “That woman is in deep denial.”
“Yep. She’s also in deep shit,” Roxy said.
I nodded in agreement. “By the way, I stole her bank statement.”
Chapter 23
“You, Rose Strickland, are turning into a criminal. And I’d like to take a little credit for that.”
I laughed and started the car. “I need to stop by the police station.”
Roxy snorted. “Gonna turn yourself in?”
“I have to get a copy of the police report from last night. My landlord needs it.”
Ten minutes later, I parked across from the police station and pulled Sheila Graystone’s bank statement from my purse. I held it in my hands and stared at it. I felt weird about taking it, but I had to know what kind of trouble Pack was in.
Roxy tapped her finger on the plastic bag window. “You hoping the information will jump into your head or are you going to open the damn thing?”
“I suppose I should, since I went to the trouble of stealing it.” I squared my shoulders and ripped the flap, pulling out the piece of paper inside. “Wow.”
She leaned over and peeked at it. “What? What’s it say?”
“They’re overdrafted to the tune of fourteen thousand dollars. That’s a lot of money.”
“No shit,” Roxy said.
“And the rest of their mail? All credit card bills.”
“He makes a butt-load of cash though, right? I mean he’s a doctor, and all.”
“A doctor who is in debt up to his eyeballs.” I shoved the statement back in the envelope, and stuck the whole thing in my glove box. Although I felt guilty for stealing Sheila’s mail, getting Axton back was more important than mail theft. Well, maybe not to the postal service.
Roxy and I walked into the police station and up to the reception desk. I was beginning to know my way around here and that probably wasn’t a good thing.
Officer Delany, whom I spoke to on my first visit, was on duty. Her gaze swept over me, then moved to Roxy. Her bored expression didn’t change. “Can I help you?”
“I’m here for a police report. Someone broke into my apartment last night.”
“What was the name of the officer who responded to your call?”
“I don’t remember. I wasn’t paying attention.” I think I was in shock the night before. Watching the police, my neighbors, seeing my things broken and scattered, had left me numb. It wasn’t until Roxy arrived with her cleaning supplies that I woke up from what seemed like a really bad dream.
Officer Delany sighed. “Wait over there and someone will be with you shortly.” She gestured to a small room across the hall. It had a vending machine and four black padded chairs.
Roxy sat and texted while I wandered around. Cops may not care about Axton or all of my worldly possessions being trashed, but apparently they loved softball. Years’ worth of team photos covered the walls. My gaze drifted over last year’s picture. Police Chief, Martin Mathers, held a trophy in one hand. His other arm was thrown around the shoulder of a grinning Officer Andre Thomas. The two looked very chummy. Roxy was right. Officer Thomas might not be on the hard drive list, but he could be doing dirty work for his softball buddy.
Speak of the hardass, five minutes later he walked into the room. My life just kept getting better and better.
He hooked his thumbs in his belt. “Well, Miss Strickland. Seems you can’t stay out of trouble.” He gazed briefly at Roxy before staring me down, like if he looked at me hard enough, I’d confess all my sins.
Roxy lowered her phone and snorted. “Yeah, like it was her fault.”
“Have any ideas on who would do that, Miss Strickland?”
Yeah, I could come up with a few names, and his just leaped to the top of the queue. “No. I don’t.”
He raised one brow and continued to stare.
“You know what?” I said. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you today, so can I just get the report?”
“Come with me.”
Roxy rolled her eyes and went back to texting, while I followed him to his corner cubicle.
He typed something into the computer and grabbed a piece of paper from his copier. “Read this over, make sure all the information is correct.”
I read through everything I had told the police the night before. “It is.” I hitched my bag up on my shoulder and turned to leave.
“Miss Strickland.”
I faced him.
“It seems like large pieces are missing from your story. Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
I peered at the ceiling, my brow furrowed as I pretended to think. Then I looked back at him with a blank expression. “Nope.” My eyes lowered and snagged on a gold pen sitting on his desk blotter. I’d been seeing a lot of those lately.
I marched forward and grabbed it. “Where did you get this?”
He frowned. “Why?”
I rolled the pen in my fingers. Dane and Manny. They both had pens just like this one.
“Miss Strickland?”
He stared at me like I’d lost my shit. Maybe I had, because I was starting to think everything was a conspiracy. I dropped the pen on the desk and left his cubicle. I couldn’t even think straight. I was a paranoid, frazzled mess.
I made it to the front of the building without getting lost this time. Roxy saw me and hopped up, following me outside.
Before I could cross the street to my car, someone called my name. I turned around and saw Dane in front of the City Hall. With a briefcase in one hand and a phone in the other, he jogged toward us.
“My God, Rose, I just got a call from Andre. He says someone broke into your apartment.”
I hadn’t seen Dane since the other morning in the diner. And my conversation with Roxy had me second guessing his motives about helping me. Was he one of Sullivan’s lackeys sent to spy on me?
