Page 79 of Hell Hath No Fury

“Akron’s less than forty miles from Cleveland,” he said.

“I know.” And Cleveland was where Zeke had lived and was buried. “What is Nell doing there?”

Eric met Emma’s gaze. “She’s trying to find someone who saw us on Saturday.”

Another thought struck Emma. The first time she’d set eyes on Matthias, he’d been at a cemetery in Erie, drinking a beer at the graveside of his former partner. Prior to the guy’s untimely death, the two had regularly shared a beer after work. Afterwards, Matthias carried on the tradition.

Nell and Zeke got drunk and stoned together. What if she’d taken the wine and pills she’d bought in Washington to Zeke’s grave in Cleveland to carry ontheirtradition?

Emma’s vision blurred. She reached out to steady herself on the Prius. Eric lunged for her, but the movement brought a sharp yelp of pain. Wincing, he asked, “Are you okay?”

She closed her eyes, composed herself, and opened them again. “Yeah.” She didn’t dare tell Eric what she was thinking. He would insist on climbing right back into the Prius and driving straight through to the budget motel. The thought was tempting enough to Emma, but Eric needed to rest.

“What the hell?”

She noticed he was staring over her shoulder, over the car, to the far corner of the garage. “What is it?” She turned to follow his gaze. All she could see was a shovel propped there.

With one arm protecting his ribs, he approached it as cautiously as if it was a snake. Then he stopped short. Emma followed and repeated her question.

He pointed at the shovel, which was caked with dried clay. “That is not mine.”

Emma gave the implement another look, focusing on the mud. She’d seen that same orange-red clay not long ago. At the Powell farm construction site. The realization struck hard. “No, it’s not,” she said, “but I think it may be the shovel used to bury Sonny.”

Eric pivoted to face her, eyes wide, mouth agape. After a couple of stuttering starts, he croaked out a single word. “No.”

“You’re sure it’s not yours?”

“Positive. I own exactly one shovel.” He pointed to a different corner of the garage. “And that’s it.”

She looked in the direction he indicated. Sure enough, a pristine version of the gardening tool hung on a rack next to an equally immaculate rake and hoe. She doubted Eric had ever used any of them. He talked frequently about the landscaping service he employed. Coming back to the muddy shovel, Emma weighed her words. “Someone planted the garbage bag of broken glass in your car. Now they’ve planted a shovel inside your garage.” Eric reached for it, but Emma grabbed his arm. “Don’t touch it.”

“The cops are going to think it’s mine,” Eric said, his tone on the verge of panic.

“Only if you put your fingerprints on it.” She ran a hand through her hair, thinking. “The glass fragments didn’t have your prints on them. Or your blood. I’m pretty sure that’s a large part of the reason the judge dropped your charges. Someone is trying very hard to frame you.”

“Why me?”

Emma shook her head. The answer seemed clear. Eric was an easy target after the confrontation with Sonny at the Pub on Main. “A better question is how they got inside your garage to put this here.”

Eric blanched. “Oh my God. Sonny’s killer has been in my house.” He lifted his gaze to the garage’s ceiling, his house’s living area above. “Do you think they might still be here?”

She followed his gaze and his thoughts. While she hadn’t noticed anyone parked on the street out front, she couldn’t be sure. She held out her hand. “Give me my phone and get back in the car.”

ChapterTwenty-Four

Matthias stepped from the elevator and was approaching the office of North Star Developing when the door opened. Tina Neidermeyer shuffled through it, a large cardboard box in her arms. He quickened his pace and called out, “Let me give you a hand.”

Startled, she flinched and looked up. Her already perturbed expression grew even darker. “You’ve helped plenty, thank you very much.”

“What did I do?”

“You’re a man. And a cop. That’s enough.”

“I’ve been told that before.”

Neidermeyer stayed in the threshold, bracing the door open with one foot. “What do you want?”

“I have a few more questions for you.”