Chapter Nine

Ruston watched Gracelyn pace across the interview room, and he could practically see the nerves coming off her. He was in the same boat, but he was trying to tamp down the worst of his worries.

That this was some kind of ruse for gunmen to try to murder Gracelyn.

Yes, they were in a police station with at least four cops in the building, but if Allie was desperate—and she was a killer—then she might have come here to try to go after her sister.

Ruston had no intention of letting that happen.

Duncan was on the same page with that, because right after Allie had ended her call, he’d gone to his office to let the other deputies know that Allie would be coming in. Or rather she had said she’d be coming in. If she did arrive, she’d be treated like a dangerous suspect and would be thoroughly searched before she got anywhere near Gracelyn.

“Immunity,” Gracelyn muttered.

Yeah, Ruston hadn’t missed that part. Immunity probably meant Allie had committed a crime and had useful information that she hoped to trade so the cops could catch a bigger fish. But if this was about murder, immunity probably wasn’t going to be an option.

And that meant they might have to arrest Allie on the spot.

That thought had no doubt already occurred to Gracelyn, and it had to be contributing to the nerves.

“Has Allie ever been to Saddle Ridge before today?” Ruston asked, hoping the conversation would help settle her before Allie showed up. That thirty-minute arrival was ticking down fast.

“Not that I know of,” Gracelyn said, “but I’m sure she heard me mention you were from here.”

Yeah, and that meant Allie had made the connection between Gracelyn and him when such a connection shouldn’t have been obvious, since before yesterday, they hadn’t seen each other in months. But it might have been obvious to Allie if she’d known they had been attacked and had had to flee with Abigail.

One way Allie could have known that was to be directly involved in the attack, but Ruston was hoping that hadn’t happened. That instead she’d come by the information from someone else. Like Devin.

“Even though Devin claimed he doesn’t know where Allie is,” Ruston pointed out, “he could have been lying. He could have been with her when he arranged the meeting and told Allie he was coming here to see us.”

Gracelyn nodded, and she seemed to latch on to that. But the hope didn’t stay on her face long. Probably because she was well aware of her sister’s checkered past. Also, there were those parts about needing immunity and cutting a deal.

There was a knock at the door, and Ruston steeled himself. But it wasn’t Allie. It was Woodrow. “There’s a cop here to see you. Detective Charla Burke.”

Ruston groaned. They didn’t need this now. “What does she want?”

“She wouldn’t say. Only said it was important.”

Ruston connected with Gracelyn’s gaze, and even though she didn’t look any happier about this intrusion than he was, she nodded. “Let’s give her five minutes.”

Ruston turned back to Woodrow. “Bring her back here.”

That way, Charla wouldn’t be in the front of the building when and if Allie came in. After seeing Allie on that surveillance footage, Charla would almost certainly recognize her, and he didn’t want the cop trying to question, or intimidate, Gracelyn’s sister.

“Duncan probably told you we’re expecting another visitor,” Ruston commented.

Woodrow nodded. “Allie Wallace. Duncan is keeping an eye out for her.”

Good. That was just as they’d planned it since Duncan hadn’t wanted Gracelyn in the front of the building either. The windows were bullet resistant, but if the sniper targeted her and used a powerful enough weapon, he might be able to get a shot through. The interview rooms were the only places in the sheriff’s office without windows.

“If Allie comes in while Charla is still here, make sure the women’s paths don’t cross,” Ruston spelled out.

“Will do,” Woodrow assured him, and he walked away. It didn’t take him long to return with Charla.

One look at her face, and Ruston knew she was riled to the bone.

“Make this quick,” Ruston immediately told her.

“Quick,” Charla snarled like profanity. “Because you’re busy trying to ruin Tony’s career.”

“No.” Ruston stretched that out a few syllables. “I’m trying to find out the truth as to why someone has been murdering people. And shooting at Gracelyn, me and you. I know you didn’t forget about the sniper.”

No way, but it was possible she knew the sniper wasn’t an actual threat to her because he was working for her.

“What Internal Affairs is investigating has nothing to do with that,” Charla snapped. “It’s about some discrepancy in his finances.”

“Which could in turn be linked to the attacks and murders,” Gracelyn was quick to say. She huffed. “You’re a cop, Charla. You know how this works. If there are funds that Tony can’t account for, then that opens the door for an investigation into all aspects of his life. Internal Affairs might not find anything.”

The anger, and worry, flashed across Charla’s face again. “And if they do, it won’t have anything to do with murders or attacks.”

Yes, but the funds could still be illegal, and that in turn could indeed cost Tony his career.

“I think someone’s setting him up,” Charla muttered. She fired glances at both Gracelyn and him. “And it sure as hell better not be either of you.”

“Or you,” Ruston suggested.

Charla practically snapped to attention. “What does that mean?”

Since time was of the essence, Ruston went with a simple response. “Terry Zimmer.”

For a couple of seconds, Charla just looked puzzled. Then she put on her cop’s face. “What about him?”

“When we showed Tony and you Zimmer’s picture, Tony owned up to knowing him,” Ruston spelled out. “You didn’t.”

“Because I—” She stopped, groaned and pinched her eyes together for a second. “I didn’t say anything because Zimmer was a confidential informant. And if I’d admitted that, you would have assumed the worst because of the photograph of Zimmer at the baby farm.”

“I did assume the worst,” Ruston confirmed. “I wouldn’t have necessarily done that if you’d been up-front.” That was possibly true. Either way, he would have kept Charla on the suspect lists, but she’d made herself look darn guilty by not owning up to knowing Zimmer.

“I swear, I didn’t know Zimmer had any connection to the baby farm,” Charla insisted.

“But he did,” Ruston argued, “and he has a connection to you.”

Charla huffed. “You can’t possibly believe I was part of that. Why would I? I have no...” She stopped again. “Oh,” she muttered. “This is because of my mother.”

Bingo.

Charla laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I see. Because my mother sold babies, you believe I continued the family business. I didn’t.” She paused again. “The only thing I’m guilty of is not admitting I knew Zimmer.”

Ruston decided to go out on a limb here. “And protecting Tony. How long have you known about those mystery funds in his accounts?”

Another bingo. Charla certainly didn’t jump to deny it, and the look on her face confirmed she had indeed known. “Go ahead, report me to Internal Affairs. Better yet, I’ll save you the trouble and do it myself.”

Charla stormed out, and Ruston turned to Gracelyn. He didn’t get a chance, though, to get her take on everything the woman had just said. That was because his phone dinged with a text.

“It’s from Duncan,” he said. “Allie just came in, and Duncan has her in his office.”

Ruston didn’t need to ask for her take on that. She was both relieved and anxious, and she immediately headed out of the interview room. He was right behind her.

When they made it to the front of the building, Charla was thankfully nowhere in sight, which meant she likely hadn’t seen Allie. Then again, Ruston might not have seen her either if he hadn’t been specifically looking for her. Gracelyn’s sister was in the corner of Duncan’s office, standing away from the large window, and she was wearing a purple hoodie that covered not only her head but a good portion of her face as well. Her shoulders were hunched, her gaze aimed at the floor.

Duncan was standing by his desk, and the moment Gracelyn and Ruston were inside the office, he shut the door.

“She’s been frisked,” Duncan told them. “No weapons. And I’ve already Mirandized her.”

If Allie had objected to the frisking and Miranda warning, she didn’t voice it. However, when she lifted her head and Ruston got a better look at her face, he could see the agitation in her bloodshot eyes. He searched her face, looking for any resemblance between Gracelyn and her. Or her and the baby. But it just wasn’t there.

“Gracelyn,” Allie muttered, and the tears came. Probably not her first of the day. “You have to help me.”

Gracelyn didn’t respond, didn’t move. She just stood there for several moments and studied her sister. Then, on a sigh, she went to Allie and hugged her. It didn’t last long. Allie ended it and stepped away from her.

“Go ahead,” Allie said, defensiveness in her voice now. “Ask me if I’ve been using. That’s what you always do.”

“Have you been?” Gracelyn obliged.

“No,” Allie snarled. “I’m clean.” She paused and groaned. “I haven’t used anything today,” she amended.

That was possibly true. Possibly. And it drilled home for Ruston that Allie had to be beyond desperate to walk into a sheriff’s office and admit that she’d recently used drugs. Something she could be arrested for if they found any illegals in her possession. Then again, she could be arrested for something a whole lot worse.

“You said you wanted immunity,” Gracelyn reminded her. “Why? What did you do?”

Allie shook her head and folded her arms over her chest. “First, the immunity, and then I talk.”

Gracelyn shook her head. “That’s not the way immunity works. You tell us what you know, and then we talk about immunity or a deal.”

Allie did more head shaking. “But how do I know you just won’t arrest me?” She aimed the question at Duncan.

“You don’t, but I could have arrested you the moment you stepped in here, and I didn’t,” Duncan spelled out. “That’s because I want to hear what you have to say. Then I can decide how to help you.”

Duncan had clearly sugarcoated that, but Ruston figured if Allie was a victim in all of this, if she had nothing to do with the murders, then Duncan would almost certainly follow through on that “help” if what Allie told them led them to the killer.

“I’ll need to record what you say,” Duncan added, holding up his phone. “That’s for your protection,” he said when Allie made a soft gasp. “The district attorney will need to hear your own words before she can work any kind of deal. I can’t go to her and just give her a summary.”

Not entirely true. Deals happened with summaries. But Duncan wanted anything Allie might say to be on the record. Of course, Allie could lie on the record as well.

“All right,” Allie finally said, but she didn’t launch into the reason she was here. She sat there until Gracelyn gave her a prompt.

“The San Antonio police have been looking for you,” Gracelyn said. She had likely gone with that rather than a direct question to ease Allie into this.

Allie nodded. “I know.” She stopped again, and this time she pressed her fingers to her mouth. Both parts of her were trembling, and she looked on the verge of having a full meltdown. “It’s because of Marty, isn’t it? Because he’s dead, and they want to ask me if I killed him. I didn’t. I swear, I didn’t.”

Duncan went to a small fridge behind his desk and brought out a bottle of water for Allie. He also motioned for her to sit in one of the chairs. She drank some water but remained standing.

“You were spotted on a security camera near Marty’s around the same time he was killed,” Ruston said, figuring it was something Allie might already know.

She did.

“Devin called and told me. He said that’s why the cops wanted to talk to me.”

Ruston and Gracelyn exchanged glances, and he saw the question in her eyes. Had SAPD released that info about Allie being on the security feed? He shook his head, though that was something that likely would have happened soon if the cops hadn’t been able to locate Allie.

So, how had Devin known?

It was something Ruston would have Noah ask Devin if and when the man came back in to be interviewed.

“Why were you at Marty’s?” Gracelyn asked her sister.

“Well, it wasn’t to kill him,” Allie was quick to say. “That’d be like killing the golden goose.” She glanced away. “I was going to try to get a loan from Marty. I needed money so I could get back on my feet.”

Interesting. “And you knew Marty loaned money because he’d done that for Devin?” Ruston wanted to know.

“Devin,” Allie spit out. She said the man’s name like profanity. “Yeah, Devin owes Marty lots and lots of money. Some kind of investment deal gone wrong,” she added in a mutter.

“Really?” Gracelyn asked. “I was under the impression that Devin had paid off his debts to Marty.”

“As if,” Allie snarled. “And if Devin told you that, he’s lying. Then again, he lies about a lot of stuff.” The tears came again, and she sank down into one of the chairs. “He told me he loved me, and then he kicked me out.”

Gracelyn sat, too, probably so she’d be eye level with Allie. “Why did he do that?”

Allie stayed quiet for so long that Ruston thought she might just clam up, but she finally answered. “He claimed it was because I used just a little to help take the edge off my nerves. He called me names, said I’d never be anything but a screwup, and he kicked me out. That’s why I went to Marty.”

Ruston didn’t like having to rely on hearsay to try to figure out the big picture here, but it was possible that things had played out that way. If Devin did still owe Marty a lot of money and was trying to resolve that in some way, then he might not have wanted a loose cannon like Allie around.

“Tell me what happened when you went to Marty’s,” Gracelyn pressed.

Allie drank more water and then took several long breaths. “I saw him twice. First, two days ago, and he was fine then.” She had fixed her gaze on her thumbnail now and was scraping away some flakes of bright pink polish. “Then I went back last night to get the money, but Marty was dead when I got there.” The water and breaths didn’t help. Allie broke into a heavy sob. “He was dead, and there was so much blood. I’d never seen that much blood before.”

Ruston got an instant flash of his father’s murder. Of the blood. And he relived the shock of seeing that. The crushing pain in his chest that followed. But Ruston shoved that aside. Had to. He had to focus on what Allie was saying to finish creating that mental big picture.

“So, what did you do?” Gracelyn continued.

“I ran, of course,” Allie was quick to say. “I got out of there as fast as I could because I thought the killer could still be there. He could have killed me if he thought I was a witness or something.”

“He?” Gracelyn questioned. “You thought the killer was a man?”

Allie looked at her and then shook her head. “No. I mean, I didn’t know. I just assumed it was a man who’d done something like that. I didn’t want to hang around and end up like Marty.”

“Or answer questions from the cops who responded to the scene,” Duncan commented.

Allie’s mouth went into a flat line, but at least she stopped crying. “Or that,” she verified, her voice a snap now. “With my record, they would have thought I was responsible, and I’m not.”

The cops would have indeed thought that, and Allie would have become their prime suspect with the means and opportunity to have done the kill. But Ruston wasn’t sure of her motive.

“Where did you go when you ran from Marty’s?” Gracelyn asked.

“To a hotel about six blocks away. I used cash so there wouldn’t be a way to trace the room to me.”

“Cash?” Gracelyn repeated. “You had cash for a hotel room, but you went to Marty for a loan?”

Allie huffed. “I needed more than what I had on me.” She quickly waved that away as if she didn’t want to dwell on that particular subject. “With Marty out of the picture, I decided to try to convince Devin to give me some money. I still had a key to his place, and I slipped in. I wanted to make sure he was in a good mood before I asked him for a loan.”

Or she’d slipped in to steal from Devin. But since he didn’t want to disrupt the flow of her explanation, Ruston kept that to himself for the moment.

“I heard Devin talking on the phone,” Allie went on. “And I heard him say he was coming to Saddle Ridge, and he said all that stuff about me being in trouble.” The anger increased with each word. “I knew then he was coming to see you, to whine about me using a little.”

“And you followed him?” Gracelyn pressed.

Allie nodded. “I took a taxi, and trust me, that ate up a lot of what little cash I have left, but I didn’t want Devin to come here and tell you a bunch of lies about me.”

“Why would he do that?” Ruston asked.

“Because he’s a selfish SOB, that’s why,” she was quick to say. “He never once asked about our baby.”

Ruston checked the time. Allie had been here for going on ten minutes, and this was the first time she’d brought up Abigail. Added to that, she hadn’t mentioned her in the phone call she’d made to Gracelyn.

“So, did Devin tell you lies about me?” Allie asked.

Gracelyn shifted closer to her sister, a signal that she was going to deal with this answer. “He said you were using again and that he kicked you out. He thought you’d hooked up with your former drug dealer.”

Allie huffed again. “There was no hooking up. I used, yes, but it was from a small stash I’d left at Devin’s last year. I guess he didn’t find it, because it was still there.”

“Terry Zimmer,” Gracelyn threw out there, and she no doubt wanted to groan because she couldn’t have missed the flicker of surprise in her sister’s eyes.

“I don’t know who that is,” Allie insisted. It was a lie and not a very good one at that.

“I believe you do,” Gracelyn said, somehow managing to keep her voice level. “We’ve already told you that immunity can’t even be considered until you tell us the truth about everything.”

“I did tell the truth,” Allie howled.

“No, you didn’t,” Gracelyn argued. “You know Zimmer, and you have to tell me if he’s connected to the reason you need immunity.”

“I don’t know him,” Allie practically shouted, springing to her feet. “I don’t...” She stopped and locked gazes with Gracelyn, who wasn’t pulling a visible punch. She was staring at her sister the way she would a murder suspect.

“The truth,” Gracelyn repeated. “That’s the only chance you have of me helping you. Lie again, and you’ll be arrested.”

Allie flung gazes at all three of them, and for a moment, she looked like a trapped animal ready to fight her way out of there. Then a sob tore from her throat, and she sank back into the chair.

“I didn’t kill Marty. That’s the truth,” Allie stated. “And Zimmer isn’t my dealer. In fact, I’d never met him until two days ago, when I went to see Marty.” She lowered her head, shook it. “You’re going to be so upset when you hear this. Really, really upset,” she emphasized, “but I swear, at the time I thought it was the only option I had.”

Hell. Ruston figured anything that came after this part of the explanation couldn’t be good.

“What option?” Gracelyn insisted.

Allie sobbed again, and the tears returned, but thankfully that didn’t silence her. “I thought Devin was going to take care of me, but when he didn’t, I knew I was going to need some money. A lot of money so I could get away and have a fresh start. I’d heard Marty had connections, so two days ago I went to see him.”

Gracelyn pulled in a sharp breath. “Why?” And there was a lot of emotion and strain in that one word.

Allie swallowed hard. “Because I had heard that he sometimes acted as a go-between for people looking to adopt. Good people,” she tacked on to that. “I wouldn’t want my baby going to just anyone.”

Duncan and Ruston both cursed. Hell. She’d planned on selling Abigail.

Gracelyn stayed put in the chair, but her eyes had narrowed. “Say it,” she demanded. Not yelling, but there was a dangerous edge to her voice.

“All right.” Allie threw an indignant stare right back at her sister. “A couple wanted to adopt the baby, and they were willing to pay my expenses. You know, for carrying her for nine months.”

“How much?” Gracelyn asked. That dangerous edge went up a notch.

“Ten thousand,” Allie spit out as if she wasn’t the least bit ashamed of it. “I knew you wouldn’t just hand Abigail over, not without asking me a lot of questions, and I told Marty that. He said there was a way to get her. A fake kidnapping, but it wouldn’t actually be a kidnapping because she’s my daughter.”

Ruston wasn’t sure how Gracelyn managed to just sit there and not spew every word of profanity she knew. Maybe because this had shaken her to the core. Allie had been planning on selling that precious baby. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Gracelyn held up a hand, maybe to steady herself. Maybe to signal that she wanted to continue the questioning. “How did Marty know where the baby was?”

“I told him. Well, I guessed because I’d seen the file with places where you might be, and I’d taken a picture of it with my phone. You know, just in case I wasn’t able to track you down.”

So, that was how Marty had gotten the address. Ruston figured Gracelyn was mentally kicking herself for that. All those security precautions down the drain because of Allie.

“You said you saw Zimmer at Marty’s,” Gracelyn went on a moment later.

“Yes, but not last night, not when I found his body. Zimmer was there on my first visit. I got the impression he worked for Marty. Maybe like an assistant or something.”

Ruston was going with the “or something” on this one, and it made him wonder if Zimmer had been around when he’d met with Marty. Maybe. Zimmer certainly hadn’t been in the room with them, but it was possible Zimmer had seen him.

“So, how was the fake kidnapping supposed to work?” Duncan asked.

Allie lifted her shoulder. “I’m not sure. Marty said he’d take care of all of that. He just told me to come back when he had the baby and that he’d give me the money. But I didn’t want to wait for him to call me. He’d said he’d have the baby last night, so I went to his place to wait.”

“Did you know Marty intended for me to be kidnapped as well?” Gracelyn asked.

Allie dismissed that with an eye roll. “That was only so you wouldn’t interfere with the men taking the baby. Marty would have let you go.”

“Not a chance,” Gracelyn muttered. She didn’t mutter the rest, though. It came out loud and clear. “You set me up to either die or be sold. You set me up so that I had to fight to save Abigail, Ruston and myself. You did that.” She jabbed her index finger at Allie.

Allie huffed once more and got to her feet again. “I did what I had to do to get my daughter. You can’t just keep my baby. She’s mine, not yours.”

Gracelyn stood, too, and, oh, Ruston didn’t like that her entire body seemed to make her sister pay. “Yes, biologically you’re her mother, and you were planning on selling her. Hear this, Allie—I’ll see you locked away for the rest of your miserable life before I let you anywhere near Abigail.”

“You can’t do that.” Allie drew her hand back as if she might slap Gracelyn, but Duncan put a stop to that.

“Sit down and shut up,” Duncan ordered Allie.

For a moment, Ruston thought Allie might launch herself at him, but she must have realized that assaulting a cop would only add to the mess she’d gotten herself into.

“I want that deal,” Allie snarled. “I want immunity.”

“Did you miss that ‘shut up’ part to my order?” Duncan growled. “Now, sit there and don’t say another word until I’m ready for you to talk.”

Duncan motioned for them to step out into the bullpen. “You’re going to have to turn this over to SAPD, aren’t you?” Gracelyn immediately asked him.

“Afraid so.” Duncan didn’t sound at all pleased about that either. “Every crime she committed, including the most serious ones, are in SAPD’s jurisdiction.”

Ruston knew that was true, and it was also true that Allie would need to go through this all again with the San Antonio cops. “I’ll call Noah,” he said. But before he could do that, Woodrow motioned to get his attention.

“You got a call on the station’s landline,” Woodrow said. “Actually, the caller wants to speak to both Gracelyn and you.”

“Who is it?” Ruston asked.

“The guy says he’s Terry Zimmer.”

Hell. That caused the squad room to go quiet, and there was no need for Ruston to explain to Woodrow who the caller was. Or rather who he was claiming to be. Woodrow and Carmen both knew that was the name of their murder suspect.

“He used your rank, Ruston,” Woodrow added. “He knows you’re a cop. And he says there are some things you need to know.”