Her First Mistake Carey Baldwin (ereader with dictionary TXT) 📖

“Considering what?”

“This kind of thing is soft science to begin with. Not discounting it. Just taking it for what it’s worth—informative, one slice of the pizza, but not the whole pie.”

“But you just said Paul didn’t write the note—that sounded conclusive to me.”

“Taking multiple factors into consideration, not only the forensic examination of the note on your car, I don’t believe he did.”

“What multiple factors?”

He lifted his hands, and then lowered them, as if he’d wanted to put them on her shoulders but thought better of it. “Before we get into that, I’d like to say my piece.”

“Okay.”

He cleared his throat. “Mia, I’m not gonna lie. Knowing what you’ve been through tugs at my emotions. You may not believe this, but detectives have hearts. That’s why some of us go into this crazy, terrible line of work in the first place. But we can’t let anything get in the way of following the evidence and going after the bad guys. We can’t let our feelings cloud our judgment. So I’m laying it on the line, and I hope you’ll heed my warning.”

She leaned in, her chest tight, not knowing what was coming next. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to say.”

“You gotta steer clear of this thing. Stop playing amateur detective. Stop bringing me leads that take me down the wrong path. And, for your own sake, stop sounding off about Paul Hudson. You’ve already lost your job over him. It’s time to back off.”

“Paul told you he got me fired?”

“That you got yourself fired by gossiping about him. And the story you just told me, about him following you around town—according to him, it’s the other way around. He’s considering getting a restraining order.”

“I can’t believe this. He’s twisting everything. He and his wife are gossiping about me. He told Ruth I came on to him, and Ruth told one of the teachers she warned me to stay away from Paul—neither of those things is true. The only thing Ruth Hudson told me was to keep my mouth shut about her husband. They’re obviously trying to discredit me because they want to divert attention away from Paul.”

“Or they don’t interpret things the same way you do. And there’s a lot of room for error when one person’s telling another person who’s telling another person, etc. Bottom line is I don’t want to see you get yourself in trouble—you or your aunt either. I sympathize. I do. I know you’re upset your mother’s case was never solved, but you gotta walk away from the Hudsons. From all of this. It doesn’t look good.”

“This isn’t about my mother’s case, and Paul Hudson is the one who’s following me—like he followed Celeste. Did you interview anyone else about that?”

“I did. Angelica Cooper says she heard about Hudson and Celeste, too—from you. We got one young lady from the school, whose name I won’t mention because she’s fearful of losing her job like you just did, who says she heard something along those lines from Celeste. But she doesn’t know it first-hand. Never actually observed Hudson with Celeste, didn’t see any texts he sent, etc.”

“You’re looking at him, though. You’re checking him out.”

“We did. And he came up clean. I thought about that note, too, and I even got a sample of his writing. But my document guy ruled him out with a high degree of certainty. Not only that, Hudson has an alibi for the night Celeste disappeared. Seems the reason Ruth Hudson stood you up for dinner is that’s the same evening she reconciled with her husband. Ruth and Paul were together all night. Apparently, they were up talking until the wee hours and then fell asleep in each other’s arms. He’s not our guy.”

“But he followed me and then lied about it.”

“So you say. He’s says different. His wife, who seems reliable, alibis him.” Samuels cleared his throat. “You haven’t asked me who my expert thinks wrote that note on your windshield. So I’m gonna tell you. My guy ruled out Isaiah Cooper—again, high degree of certainty. Who he can’t rule out is you—or your aunt. At this point, it seems likely, I’m not saying one hundred percent certain, mind you, but likely, that either you or your aunt wrote that note, and you told me yourself, you thought it was her.”

Mia nodded. She had been pretty positive it was Aunt Misty. But that was before Paul Hudson followed her to the Coopers. “But—”

“His alibi’s a good one. Unless you think Ruth, who was ready to kick him out, would not only take him back but lie to cover up a crime as bad as this.”

“I hope she wouldn’t go that far. And whether or not you believe me, I didn’t write that note.” Her heart sank. “So, I guess, as far as the note goes, that just leaves Aunt Misty.”

Samuels got to his feet and paced toward her Jetta. Walked around it twice, bending down, peering underneath. “You say a Lexus was tailing you, but then stopped. Then you saw Hudson in what you thought was the same vehicle parked outside the Coopers’ residence. But Hudson had his own reasons to be there, he says. Nothing to do with you. He thinks you followed him.”

She shook her head, feeling helpless and confused.

“Lots of black Lexus on the road, Mia.”

Samuels was dragging his hand around the undercarriage of her car, when, abruptly, he stopped, let out a grunt, and squatted. Then he held out a gray box no bigger than a cell phone. “Any idea how a GPS got on your car?”

She doubled over, like she’d been kicked in the stomach.

“Please tell me you didn’t put a tracker on your own car, and then make up this whole story about Paul Hudson following you just to set me up to find this device.”

The sun beat down ferociously. She fanned her face and took short, shallow breaths,