Web of Secrets

CHAPTER ONE-1

CHAPTER ONE

AFTER A LONG AND GUT-wrenching day of testimony in the Samantha Kennard trial, Detective Lizzie Zimmerman walked alongside Samantha’s ex-boyfriend, Donny Atherton, as they went for coffee. It had been almost a year since Samantha had been captured and her brother shot and killed, but for Donny, the pain was as fresh as if it had all happened yesterday.

Lizzie was trying her best to compartmentalize and not show it, but it felt fresh for her too. The man she’d been involved with, had fallen in love with, that she knew as Landon Kendal, had turned out to be Lenny Kennard, Samantha’s brother.

As they strolled down the sidewalk, neither had much to say. Both were still raw and reeling from their emotionally charged turns in the witness box. Then Lizzie pointed ahead and slightly to the right. “I believe it’s just down there.”

A cheerful wave and a bubbly, “Hi there! Find a spot anywhere you like, I’ll be right over!” came to them from the waitress as they stepped over the threshold into Nana’s Café. Lizzie led the way to a booth, and not long after, the waitress came over with two menus.

“What can I get you folks to drink?” she asked.

“Coffee for me, please,” said Lizzie.

“Make it two,” Donny chimed in.

“I’ll be right back with those. You want some water too?”

Two nodding heads confirmed her supposition, and she left to go fulfill their drink order.

Lizzie glanced at the menu. “I know I need to eat something, but I’m not that hungry.”

“Man, I know that feeling,” Donny muttered. “I think I’m going to order the chicken fried steak anyway. If I have to force myself to eat something, it might as well be good old southern comfort food.”

“I know, right? There are things down here in Texas you just take for granted until you move away.”

Donny smiled for the first time since he took the witness stand. “Yep,” he told her. “Like Whataburger. And Blue Bell ice cream. Lord, I used to put away the Blue Bell. My mom used to get frustrated with me; I’d have gone through a half-gallon a day by myself, if she’d have let me.”

Lizzie laughed. “And sweet tea. Down here, it’s a given. Other places, your choices are unsweet, and, let’s see, unsweet and there’s the sugar packets.”

“Exactly!” he agreed. “And it never tastes the same when you do it yourself.”

“Nope.”

The waitress came back with their coffees and ice waters, and asked, “Okay, folks, do we know what we want to order?”

“I’d like the chicken fried steak, please,” Donny answered.

“I will too, but, no cream gravy for me, please,” Lizzie stated.

Donny looked at her. “You’re a native Texan and you don’t like cream gravy?”

“I know, I know,” Lizzie hunched her shoulders. “I’m weird like that. My dad used to tease me about it.”

“It’s not as uncommon as you think, hon,” the waitress interjected with a chuckle. “I’m not a big fan of it either.”

“See?” Lizzie was triumphant. “I’m not the only one.”

Donny’s grin was sheepish. “I stand corrected.”

“Well, my name’s Sherrie, and I will get this order in for you two. You want rolls before the meal or with the meal?”

Donny and Lizzie exchanged glances, then answered “before” in unison.

“You got it. I’ll be right back.” And Sherrie collected the menus and walked away. They’d barely had time to unfold their napkins when she returned with a basket of freshly baked cloverleaf rolls and some butter.

“Aw, man, those smell so good,” Donny closed his eyes for just a moment before helping himself to one. “Having to watch my bread intake was one of the hardest things for me when I was in training.”

“I personally couldn’t do it,” Lizzie told him as she spread butter on her roll. “I tried one of those diets once with no or low carbs. Was not a happy person to be around. My partner, Tank, gave me hell about it. ‘Damn, Zim, what are you thinkin’, girl, you know you’re cranky enough as it is’. Stuff like that,” Lizzie mimicked her detective partner David’s deep booming voice as she repeated his words. And she noticed how Donny’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing,” Donny said. “That was just, well, hilarious. Little tiny thing like you throwing out this big huge deep voice suddenly.”

“Oh,” she replied, shifting in her seat, a grin coming to her lips. “I suppose that was a bit odd, huh?”

“But funny,” he agreed. “His first name is really Tank?”

“It’s a nickname I gave him,” she answered. “He’s this great big huge guy. We met at the Academy, and I mentioned he was built like a tank, and it stuck. But he gives it right back. Calls me ‘SWG’.”

“What’s that stand for?”

“Skinny white girl.”

“Nice,” Donny laughed.

Sherrie arrived at that moment and set their food in front of them. “Here you go, guys. Anything else you need?”

“I’m good,” Lizzie told her, then to Donny, “what about you?”

“All set here, thanks, Sherrie.”

“All right then. Enjoy. I’ll be back around in a while to check on you.”

They settled in to do just that, and in between bites, Donny and Lizzie chatted a bit, about normal things.

“So. Olympic skier. How’d you end up there, being from Texas?”

He laughed. “The first time my family took me skiing I was four, and I just took to it right away. I remember getting really mad they wouldn’t let me tackle the ‘grown-up’ slopes right off the bat. Over the next couple of trips my parents realized I loved it and was good at it, so, they made the commitment to get me up on skis as much as possible, but we couldn’t just pack up and relocate. With their jobs, that wasn’t an option. It was really interesting for a while, focusing so much on a sport I loved but living in a state without regular snowfall.”

“So how did you manage it?”

“Well, off-peak times you focus more on conditioning and strength training. A lot of it is driven by how good training conditions are. For example, if your primary on-snow training location gets record shortfalls in a season, you have to adjust.”

“Good to know.”

“How about you? You live in Seattle, right?”

“Yep. My mom moved me up there when I was twelve,” Lizzie answered, in a tone that let Donny know it was not a happy memory.

An awkward silence lingered for a time.

He cleared his throat. “So, um, back to the elephant in the room, I guess. We’ve testified. What now? Before today, the last time I was even in a courtroom I was on the jury on, well, you know. Samantha’s dad’s case.”

“We’ll need to check in with D.A. Rogers and make sure, but I think since we are done testifying, we’ll be able to go home, so long as we’re prepared to come back if we get recalled. That’s been my experience in a state or local case, anyway. Federal may be different, which is why I want to ask about it.”

She leaned forward slightly, making eye contact. “Donny, I want you to know, I totally get how hard today was for you. Not only having to testify but seeing her again. That was the first time since you found the list, right?”

Donny’s eyes clouded with pain. “Yes, it was. And I know today wasn’t easy on you either. I can see it all over your face.”

Lizzie sighed. “No. It wasn’t,” she admitted. “Him dying, or not being who I thought he was - either one on its own would have been hard enough to get through. But both, at once? Yeah, it’s been hard. I keep thinking of him and referring to him as Landon, and it’s a tough habit to break. It had gotten better lately. I thought I was getting by all right, until today. Today just churned it all up again.”

“Makes you never want to trust again,” he said solemnly.

“Absolutely,” was her heartfelt response.

They looked at each other a long moment.

“Well, we’d better get moving,” Lizzie announced. “Get back before they let out for the day so we can catch the DA.”

She signaled to Sherrie, who brought over the bill.

“I’ve got this,” Donny insisted, “as a thanks for listening, and for the company. Even if you don’t like cream gravy.” And he gave her a gentle smile.

“Fine. But if you’re in Seattle someday, give me a shout. We’ll have dinner, on me. Okay?”

“Deal.”

***