Steal My Heart

Chapter 10

brIAN WAS exhausted. Every project he took on today seemed fraught with issues. First there wasn’t enough drywall compound to patch a hole in Mrs. Grant’s ceiling, and then the pipe he’d gotten to fix Mr. Fox’s sink wasn’t exactly right. He knew he should be grateful for the work, but by the time he got back to Gran’s and dragged himself inside, he could barely walk.

“I made you some dinner,” Gran said. “Your plate is in the oven.”

“Thanks, Gran,” he said softly. “I’m going to eat and go right up to bed.”

Gran chuckled. “I don’t think so. Your Hilliard and I had a nice lunch today with the church ladies. He got some interesting insight into Violet, but we didn’t get to talk about it afterwards. I needed to lie down, and he had work to do. So I picked up some sweets at the store, and he’ll be here in half an hour. I figured you’d want to hear what he thought. So sit down and eat your dinner. Then go upstairs, clean up, and be ready when he gets here.” She adjusted the blanket over her legs and patted her lap. Both dogs jumped up and made themselves at home.

Brian knew better than to argue with Gran, so he went to have his dinner before taking a shower. By the time he came back downstairs, Gran and Hilliard were sitting together in the living room with cups of tea, another waiting for him on the coffee table.

“What’s going on? Why do I feel like this is the Spanish Inquisition?” He squirmed at the way they both looked at him, and he had to remind himself he wasn’t a naughty child.

“It’s not,” Hilliard said. “But I think Violet couldn’t get out of that restaurant fast enough after lunch.”

“I don’t think I’ve seen that woman move that quickly in years, the gossipy old biddy.”

Brian couldn’t help chuckling. “So what happened?”

“Your Gran laid it on thick. It was beautiful. The other ladies at the luncheon were thrilled to see her and immediately thought her news was wonderful. Violet just paled and then hurried outside to make a phone call. I managed to hear part of it, but I’m not sure if she knows who is behind the burglary. She said some things that are suspicious, but it could also mean that the case will be reopened and that everything will start again.”

“Who was she talking to?” Brian asked.

“I’m not sure. She didn’t say a name, but I did get a peek at her phone, and she was getting text messages from a Frank.”

“Her son,” Beverly supplied. “She has two, Frank and Ansen. Frank is the one she’s closest to, while Ansen lives on the East Coast somewhere and rarely comes home. I think he couldn’t get away from her fast enough.”

“Okay, so she was talking to her son after getting troubling news. Is that so suspicious?” Brian asked. “If Gran were in her place, she’d probably call me and tell me about it.” He didn’t really see where this got him anything other than maybe running in circles. “You know, we aren’t detectives, so maybe we should leave this to the police. Turn everything over to them and let them figure out who really pulled off the burglary. We can prove it wasn’t me. That will help me get my life back and….”

Gran leaned forward a little, her face hardening. Brian knew that was the wrong thing to say. “That tape only means that it is unlikely that you were the thief. It doesn’t rule you out completely. Though people would be stupid to think otherwise, it’s still ridiculously possible.” She huffed.

“Okay, Gran,” he said gently. “Please don’t get yourself upset.”

“I’m just making sure you understand that we aren’t at the finish line yet.” She sat back, and Hilliard sipped his tea, tension in the room lingering.

Brian huffed. “Do you know how much I hate this?” he asked softly. “It seems like every waking moment is spent consumed by this stupid burglary and me. Both of you are spending all this energy trying to prove a negative, which is nearly impossible. I didn’t break into that house, someone else did. The court said that I did, and now we are turning in circles to try to prove I didn’t. I just wish I could live my life without all this.” He took Gran’s hand. “I want you to be able to spend your time enjoying life and being happy. Hell, I want to be happy too. But this whole thing hangs over me all the damned time. And now I feel like I’m dragging you into it as well.”

“That’s enough of that nonsense,” Gran told him. “We’re doing this because we care.”

Hilliard nodded and put an arm around his shoulder. “Your Gran loves you, and she wants you to be happy. You shouldn’t have been put in this position in the first place. It wasn’t right.” He paused. “Look, this is important to me now. And you aren’t putting either of us out. We want to help, okay?” Brian’s skin tingled as Hilliard ran his fingers along his jawline.

Brian wondered just when Hilliard and Gran had gotten close enough that he was speaking for her. But Gran simply nodded and put her feet down. The dogs whined before jumping down and going to the bed in the corner, where they curled up together.

A knock sounded, and Gran went to the door and opened it. “I saw your lights,” Gran said as she stepped back to let an older man come inside. He had close-cut white hair and intense blue eyes. On this man, the normal signs of aging seemed to make him more distinguished and handsome.

Brian stood, along with Hilliard.

“Boys, this is Grant Whittaker. He’s with the Mendocino County Sheriff’s Office.” She smiled and led him inside. “Grant, this is my grandson, Brian, and his friend Hilliard.” She swallowed. “That is the right term, isn’t it?” she asked.

“It’s fine for now.” Hilliard placed his hand at the small of Brian’s back, his touch gentle and reassuring. “It’s good to meet you.” Hilliard shook Grant’s hand. “Just so you know, I have been acting as a friend to both Beverly and Brian. I am an attorney in Ohio, but not here in California.”

“I see,” Grant said. “A lawyerly answer and a good one.” He smiled. “I understand the desire to help. Thank you.” He handed Brian a folder. “Beverly asked me for a copy of the police file on your case. Since the case is officially closed, it’s part of the public record.”

“Shall we go to the table?” Gran offered, and they all sat at the kitchen table.

Brian opened the file and looked over the front page.

“May I?” Hilliard asked, leaving Brian to read while he took the rest of the file. “Okay. Take a look at this. Here’s Violet’s statement. She says she left the house at twelve thirty for her meeting at the church and got home at a little before three, when she discovered the burglary had taken place.” He pulled out a tablet and made notes. “That narrows down the timeline even more.”

“May I see that?” Grant asked.

“We found video footage of Brian and his grandfather visiting the light station on the day of the burglary. I added the times from the tape.”

Grant shook his head. “Jesus,” he whispered. “And they never bothered to check earlier?” He blinked. “They never would have been able to bring charges if they’d had this.”

“I figured that. But the burden of proof is much higher now that Brian has been convicted. Reasonable doubt isn’t enough any longer. I’m not licensed here, but I did my research, and the best way to prove his innocence is still to find the real thief.”

Grant pulled the file to him and flipped through the pages. “Here are the suspects that the investigators were initially looking at. Kevin and Kendall Trainer, as well as Michael Rogers and Nathan West. It’s well known that those four are thick as thieves and definite troublemakers. They have all had minor run-ins with the law over the years.”

“Tell me about it,” Brian said between clenched teeth.

“Anyway, the department had asked all of them to provide alibis, and they seemed to be having trouble explaining their whereabouts. Evidently the investigators were looking pretty closely at them until we received an anonymous tip, and then one of the stolen pieces was found in your truck with your fingerprints on it.”

“And that was that,” Brian muttered. “They asked me for an alibi, and all I had was a day away with Gramps, who was dead, and I was on the hook.”

“I have to tell you that any decent lawyer should have been able to put the pieces together that you were framed. Looking at it, I would have gone so much further.”

“Grant joined the department a little over a year ago after he retired from the LAPD and moved up here.” Gran smiled, and if Brian didn’t know better, he’d have said that she had a thing for the police officer.

“So what do we do?” Brian asked.

Gran added, “Can you help us?”

“Yes. I think this was botched from the get-go, and it needs to be made right. Can I get a copy of the video, as well as the timeline you put together? I want to do some more work and see what else I can dig up. The officer who headed this investigation isn’t with the department any longer, so I doubt I’m going to meet with resistance. But still, I want to get approval.”

Brian nodded, relieved that more people were beginning to believe in him. Hilliard once again put an arm around his shoulder, and Brian leaned into the touch.

“At least you have the support you deserve,” Hilliard said softly.

“I know, but where do we go from here?” Brian asked. “I mean, do we have to get a court to declare that I was wrongly convicted?” That could take forever.

“Yes. But if we can get rock-solid proof, then I can take it to the police department as well as the prosecutor’s office. They can help you move this through the courts. Petitions like ours take a while through the normal processes, but if the prosecutor goes with us before a judge with a proper writ and asks that their original verdict be vacated, then that can be a much faster route. Justice can be slow, but I like to think it will happen in the end.” Grant wasn’t particularly encouraging.

“Look, what we can do is get the proof, and then we can get the local media to pick up the story. Once they see the proof, then everyone is going to know that you were wrongly convicted. This is about the town knowing you aren’t the thief as much as anything else.” Hilliard held Brian’s hand tightly. “So please don’t worry about it.”

“He’s right,” Grant said softly. “And I think that we could be getting close.”

“So what do we do from here?” Brian asked.

Grant huffed. “You know my official answer would be to let the police do their work, but considering the fact that we didn’t do that the first time around, I’m going to say this: everyone you talk to could be the thief, and you have no idea how desperate they may be. They broke into your truck to plant evidence the first time.” His expression was stone-cold serious. “They have spent the past almost three years thinking they got away with it. The thief has gone on with their life, likely cashed in their ill-gotten gains, and maybe used it to build the foundation of their life. Now all that is threatened. The snake is most dangerous when it’s been backed into a corner.” He gathered the report and put it back together. “Just remember to be careful.”

“I know. If we stir up a hornet’s nest, expect to get stung,” Hilliard said. “But if we don’t do a little stirring, we might never get to the bottom of this.”

Grant nodded. “But think about this. Right now, we have proof that casts great doubt on Brian’s conviction. He is home and rebuilding his life. Beverly is doing well, and….” He smiled. “It seems to me that things are going well on all fronts. Going around nest-stirring could jeopardize all of that.” He picked up the file.

“Is it possible for you to leave that with us?” Hillard asked.

Grant set it back on the table. “It’s a copy, but don’t flash around that you have it.” He said good night and left the house.

Brian leaned against Hilliard’s shoulder. “Where do we go from here?”

Gran grinned. “Let’s talk to people and see if we can puzzle this thing out. Eat your heart out, Jessica Fletcher.” And danged if he and Hilliard didn’t both laugh.

brIAN WASN’T sure about this, but he and Hilliard stood outside the scene of the crime, staring at the large Victorian-era home that had been an anchor of the town, competing in prominence with the Masonic Hall for over a century. “I don’t know if this is a good idea or not.”

“She doesn’t have to speak with us, and she might not. But I get the feeling that she knows more than she’s saying and that she is going to be damned curious what we have. For her, the nightmare has been over. The person who victimized her has been punished, and now that’s being ripped away. I want to see how she reacts and try to figure out what she knows.” Hilliard gave Brian a hint of heat in his smile, which sent a shiver through him as he remembered last night, and the way Hilliard transported him to a place where he forgot about everything other than Hilliard’s mouth and the way he used it to send Brian into ecstasy. “You don’t have to come.”

He didn’t want to, but he was too curious to go back to Gran’s and wait, so he followed Hilliard up the walk to the front door, which opened before Hilliard knocked.

“I saw you coming.” Violet’s cold eyes swept over him, and Brian did his best to pretend he hadn’t seen it. “What is it you want?” The light dress she wore would have been more appropriate for a garden party than just sitting in her house, and Brian wondered if they were keeping her from something.

“I know what Beverly told you at lunch the other day, and, well… we know how difficult this is for you.”

Her gaze narrowed. “You think you do?” she asked.

Hilliard nodded gently. “Yes. You were the victim, not the enemy. You were the one who was initially hurt in all this. Having things taken from your home also robs you of your sense of safety. We know that, and we aren’t here to cause you any more pain.”

“That’s a real nice speech, but what is it you want?” Violet asked.

Hilliard kept his cool. “Believe it or not, we’re on the same side. Brian wasn’t the person who broke into your house. He was with his grandfather, just as we said, and we can prove that. The evidence from his truck was planted, which means that the real thief is still out there, and we all have an interest in finding them and maybe getting your things back.” Damn, Hilliard really was a great lawyer and amazing with words.

Brian didn’t move, and Violet seemed torn with indecision. “I don’t know what I can do to help you, but I suppose you should come in rather than standing out here where everyone in town can see you and wonder what’s going on.” She stepped back, and they went inside.

Brian expected “fussy old lady” style when he stepped inside, but he was surprised at how large and weighty the furniture was. Not that it didn’t feel right, just that it was imposing and impressive, and somehow reflected Violet at the same time—and that was just the hall. The living room where she led them was equally impressive. She motioned them to chairs, and Brian perched on the edge of the seat, extremely uncomfortable.

“I suppose you’re here to try to convince me or something,” Violet said.

Hilliard shook his head. “I don’t think I need to convince you, because you already knew—or at least suspected—that Brian was never the thief.” He came right out with it. “When you first came home and discovered the burglary, who did you think had broken in?”

“I don’t think that has any bearing on this,” she retorted, her back straight, eyes intense as ever.

“Oh, I think it does. I know that you had the house on a home tour a few months before the burglary, but Beverly tells me that most of the portable valuables had been put away. Yet as far as I can gather, that was the reasoning behind why someone would know what to take.”

“That’s true. I figured that they snooped around when no one was in the rooms….” She was grasping at straws.

“Weren’t there docents?” Brian asked gently, and Violet eventually nodded.

“It was what the police thought as well.” As though that justified her position.

“I understand, but who might actually know where the stolen items were kept? Some of them weren’t items that you would keep sitting out, were they?”

“What do you take me for? A fool?” Violet stood. “Of course not. I’m not going to leave a collection of antique sterling just lying about. It was put away and….” She sat back down, paling. “But the police said that they found one of the pieces, so that….” Violet turned to him, her eyes softening. “Can you really prove it wasn’t you?”

Brian nodded. “I spent the day with Gramps, and we have proof that he and I were together, as I said all along.”

Violet lowered her head. “So my nightmare isn’t over.” She wrapped the shawl from the back of the chair around her shoulders. “Have the police seen what you have?”

“Yes, they have. We are developing a case to have the conviction vacated. But I’m afraid none of this is going to be over until the real thieves are found.” Hilliard’s voice was so gentle. “And that’s why we’re asking for your help. If you have any ideas about who it might be, then maybe we can put this behind us all forever.”

Violet pulled the shawl closer around her. “I wish I knew.”

Brian found himself watching her and then glanced at Hilliard, who seemed almost comfortable sitting back in the stiff chair. There was something about him, a presence that didn’t seem to get flustered. It helped give Brian confidence of a sort. If anyone could sort through this mess, it was Hilliard.

“I have to ask. Are you acting as Brian’s lawyer?”

Hilliard shook his head. “No. I’m not a member of the California bar. I’m acting as his friend. Nothing more.” He leaned in, those intense eyes that looked deep into Brian’s when they were alone drawing Violet closer. “I just hate to see miscarriages of justice. I know mistakes happen, we all make them, but this is one we can right. And we need your help. You don’t have to give it, of course, but I want to see if we can get back what was taken from you.” He blinked. “I know some of what was taken you can never get back.” That voice wrapped around Brian like a blanket, and he could see it having the same effect on Violet.

She sighed and seemed to come to a decision. “Okay. Assuming that Brian isn’t the thief—and I’m not saying that I buy all of what you’re selling, but let’s say he isn’t—then where do we go from here?” Her eyes still held skepticism, but also a little of the lady that Brian knew from when he trick-or-treated at this house and Violet dressed as her namesake from Willy Wonka, covered in blue makeup.

“Who might have known what you had? It was an antique necklace that was found in Brian’s truck. Did you keep that out? Or in a jewelry box?”

Violet shook her head. “That’s the tough thing. I kept it at the bottom of a drawer in my bedroom. The jewelry box was on my dresser, but they stole that piece of jewelry from the drawer.”

Hilliard leaned closer. “Was the entire room tossed?” Violet looked confused. “Did the thieves ransack the room?”

“Oh… no. When I noticed the silver was gone, I hurried up here to find the cloth bag I kept my jewelry in, and it was gone.”

Hilliard pulled out a small tablet from his pocket and began making a few notes. “What else was taken?” He already knew from the police report, but Brian supposed he was trying to keep her talking.

“I made a list for the police, but later….” She got up and opened a case behind her chair. Then she pointed. “There were a couple of Japanese netsukes that my father brought back from a trip there. I didn’t recognize they were gone until months later.” The pain in her eyes was palpable.

“Do you have pictures of them somewhere?” Brian asked.

Violet pulled out her iPhone, then shook her head. “Yes, I do. They’re on the computer in the office, though. Frank said that I should make an inventory of the things in the house for insurance purposes. He and I were taking pictures of them.”

“Why didn’t you report them missing?”

Violet shrugged. “I figured they were gone like the rest of it. You were already paying for the crime, and I didn’t think any good would come of it. So I sort of wrote them off.”

“I suppose it happens a lot.” Brian cleared his throat. “But I want you to know that I never stole anything from anyone. I’ve worked hard all my life, and I was accused at the same time as I lost my grandfather.” A lump grew in his throat, and he gave up trying to finish what he meant to say.

“That was a bad time for all of us,” Violet said gently.

“Then let’s try to put it behind us, find out what truly happened, and then maybe everyone—both of you in particular—can have some peace… knowing the truth.”

Violet nodded slowly. “Yes. I think that’s best.” She stood, and Brian did as well, with Hilliard following. She led them to the door, and Brian thanked her before leaving the house. Violet closed the door almost silently after them, and they went down the walk to the street.

“That was interesting,” Brian said. “And weird at the same time.”

“It was more than that.”

“How do you figure?”

Hilliard led the way down the street as they headed toward his house. “Violet doesn’t know who robbed her, but she’s still afraid. Afraid that someone will do it again, and with you being innocent, she’s afraid of who it might be. Her son knew what she had and helped her inventory it. Her grandsons knew what was there. The one thing that is for sure—it was someone who knew her pretty well. They went into her room and got her jewelry without ransacking everything. That means they knew where she hid it. That was the thief’s mistake and something more the police should have been able to figure out.”

“But they only had me in their sights,” Brian said. “And after that, they didn’t look any further.”

“The thing is, we have to. And we need to tell Grant what we found,” Hilliard explained. “It isn’t going to be long before the guilty party is put on notice, and they will be looking to cast all eyes in another direction. After all, it worked well before.”

“What do you suggest I do? I have to work.”

“Of course you do, and you can’t put your life on hold, but make sure everything is locked, and like I said before, watch those around you.”

“I added cameras to my truck, both inside and out. So if someone does try to frame me the way they did before, we’ll know who it is.”

“Good, though this time they’ll be sneakier.” Hilliard took his hand. “But we’ll be ready for them. You aren’t alone, and you have people who believe in you.” That was something Brian had wondered if he’d ever have again.