by Cat Chandler
When she felt Matt shake a little, she turned her glare on him as his lips twitched and his brown eyes sparkled. If he burst out laughing, Nicki just might have to step on his foot. She suddenly wished she had on a pair of her heels rather than the flat sandals she was wearing.
“I assumed it was a boyfriend who called Chief Turnlow,” Clay said. “Who’s Ty? The guy with all the teeth?”
“That doctor I was with who is also the bride, if you’ll recall? Ty is her fiancé,” Nicki replied.
“And you never told me why you were calling Lydia?” The chief cocked his head to one side.
Nicki was struck with the feeling that he’d stand there all day until he got an answer.
“Who’s Lydia?” Matt asked.
“The victim’s second wife,” Clay supplied. “And Nicki, here, was leaving her a voice mail when I walked up. I was just wondering why.”
“Because Paul Franklin told me that she and Robin had a less than congenial relationship,” Nicki admitted.
“Is there anyone else on your interview list?” the chief asked.
Nicki sighed. Somehow this was beginning to remind her a little too much of home. “Amanda Peterson.”
“The events manager here at the hotel?” There was a definite note of surprise in the chief’s voice. “Do you mind telling me why?”
“Because Paul said she’d encountered a few problems with Robin, too, just like his business partner had.”
Chief Thomas rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “And have you already talked with Brad?”
“No, just his wife, Gin.” Nicki sighed. “I’m sure you’ve already interviewed the same people, Clay.”
He shook his head. “Some but not all. I drove by Paul’s place this morning, but he was busy.” The chief gave her a meaningful look. “And the former Mrs. Boral hasn’t returned any of my calls. Amanda Peterson hadn’t even made it to my list yet.”
“Oh.” Nicki looked at Matt who grinned at her.
“You work fast.” Her editor and almost-official-boyfriend winked at her.
“She does,” Clay agreed. “Which is why I’m hoping she’ll agree to work with me, and not against me, on this case.” His gaze held steady on Nicki’s face.
“Of course I will.” Nicki didn’t mind at all, but she also didn’t see that she had much choice. He seemed like a very nice guy, but Nicki was sure that Chief Thomas wouldn’t hesitate to lock her up if she interfered in his investigation without his permission.
“So we’ll be working with the police this time?” Matt shook his head. “That will certainly be different.”
Chapter Eighty-Three
“Is there a place to get something to eat here in the hotel, or should we make a trip into town?”
Nicki never ceased to be amazed at Matt’s ability to consume large amounts of food. She pointed to a double door behind him. “The cafe is decent. We can grab lunch in there.”
Even though the casual restaurant was doing a brisk lunchtime business, they were seated right away in the same booth she and Alex had occupied that morning. After a couple of minutes, Matt set the menu down and smiled at her.
“The cheeseburger looks good.” He gave a long theatrical sigh. “I suppose you’re going to have a dinner roll and a piece of lettuce?”
“Ha, ha,” Nicki said, setting her own menu down. “I had a decent breakfast while you probably settled for the pretzel snack on the plane.”
“Egg McMuffin.” Matt grinned. “I stopped at McDonald’s before I boarded. And I won’t ask what you consider a decent breakfast.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t cost a guy much to date you, Nicki.”
She stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You bought me a car, Matt.”
The tall editor lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug. “I bought me a car. God only knows what kind of deathtrap you would have bought to replace the last deathtrap you had before it was totaled. I wouldn’t have gotten another hour of sleep just thinking about it.”
Whatever his reasons, Nicki had to admit that she loved her new SUV, with all its bells and whistles. Living in California, it certainly was great to have a car with an actual working air conditioner. But still, it was an outrageously expensive gift. “I’m saving up to pay you back, Matt Dillon, whether you like it or not.”
Matt’s gaze turned serious behind the lenses of his glasses. “I don’t know why. Since I’m the one paying for the articles you write for the magazine, that would just be me paying me.” He reached across the table and laid his large hand over her much smaller one. “I won’t take your money, Nicki. And I’m too tired and hungry to argue about it at the moment.”
She gave his hand a quick squeeze before smiling at the waitress approaching their table. “Then we’ll save that discussion for later. Hi, Christy. How did your morning go?”
“It was a madhouse around ten, but it’s settling down.” She gave Matt a friendly smile. “Who’s this? I met the bride this morning. Are you the groom?”
“The groom hasn’t arrived yet,” Nicki was quick to put in. “This is Matt. He’s a friend of mine.”
At Matt’s nod, Christy broke into a wide grin. “Well, the two of you make a nice-looking couple. What can I get for you?”
The waitress retreated with their order, but not before Matt had gotten out of her that Nicki’s “decent breakfast” that morning had consisted of an English muffin and a cup of coffee.
“I thought so.”
Matt looked a little too smug to Nicki’s critical eye. “Do we need to go over the differences in our sizes again?”
“Nope. But a body needs fuel, and you don’t eat enough.”
Shaking her head, Nicki spotted Alex over near the door and frantically waved her arms, making a face at Matt when he laughed at her bad interpretation of a windmill. Alex gave Matt a hug when he scooted out of the booth to greet her, and then she slid in beside Nicki.
“You are not going to believe this,” Alex blurted out as soon as the three of them were settled in. “Mom just got a call from the events manager. There’s a glitch with the wine order.” She dropped her head into her hands. “I’m telling you it’s a sign. All the fates are telling us not to have this wedding.”
Matt immediately shook his head, his dark hair bouncing with the movement. “Now wait a minute. Ty’s been chafing at the bit to marry you, so he should have something to say about this. And I don’t think he’s going to buy your theory that the fates are against you.”
Alex wrinkled her nose. “Oh, we’re getting married. But it might be in front of a justice of the peace, at the airport, just before we wing our way to a deserted island. And if I have to go through another day of disaster planning with Mom, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”
Nicki put an arm around Alex’s shoulders and gave her a quick hug. “Why don’t you let me help? I’ll find out what the problem is with the wine order and take care of it.”
“And I’ll help too,” Matt instantly volunteered. “I know a few wine distributors. If the hotel can’t straighten out whatever this glitch is, then we’ll just find another source.” He winked at Alex. “Tell your mom there will be a good wine at your wedding if I have to drive into the Seattle airport to pick it up.”
The doctor returned Nicki’s hug and gave Matt a huge smile. “That’s very brave of you, Matt. Sea-Tac is so busy, you’d be lucky to get in and out of there in less than two hours. But the parking rate is pretty cheap. At least compared to San Francisco’s airport.”
“Well then, it’s settled.” Nicki pointed to the phone Alex had in her hand. “Call Amanda and ask when we can see her.”
Just then Nicki’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen and beamed a smile at Alex as she raised it to her ear. “Hello, Amanda. Yes, I did leave my number on your clipboard this morning, and now I have two things we need to talk about.”
Their food arrived, and as Matt happily dug in, Alex declined lunch and raced out of the cafe to call her mom about their pla
n on how to deal with the wine snafu. Nicki nibbled at her salad while she watched her editor steadily eat his way through the enormous pile of food Christy had put in front of him.
“The least you could do is gain weight,” Nicki complained. “Eating all that and not gaining a pound has to be against some law of nature.”’
“Good metabolism.” Matt stabbed another steak fry with his fork.
Nicki thought it had more to do with his tall frame needing a lot of fuel to keep it going.
“What time do we drop in on Amanda, the events manager?” Matt asked.
“She said around three would be perfect. It would give her time to check with their regular wine supplier to find out what happened and how to fix it.”
“Great.” Matt grinned when Nicki’s phone rang again. “You’re popular today.”
Nicki quickly chewed and swallowed her last bit of salad as she pressed the answer button. “Hello? Oh, Mrs. Boral. Yes of course… Lydia. Thank you for returning my call.”
When the call ended, she gave Matt an apologetic smile. “Lydia says she can meet with me now. You don’t have to rush though. Stay and finish your food. I should be back in no time.”
Matt shoved his plate away and shook his head. “Not a chance. I can get a snack when we get back to the hotel after I check in. I thought I’d have to put in a couple of hours of work this afternoon, but I haven’t heard from Jane, so I might have more free time for us to go interview suspects, or follow clues, or whatever.”
“Oh, well, about that.” Nicki pursed her lips as she looked down at the cell phone she was still holding in her hand. “You might have to use the phone in your room to call Jane. The cell service here, and especially in town, is a little spotty.”
Matt’s eyebrows drew together. “How spotty?”
“Very,” Nicki acknowledged. “Only about half my calls are getting through.”
While her editor frowned at his phone, Nicki tapped out a message to Alex that they would be heading to Lydia’s soon, and reminding her that Jenna and Maxie would be arriving late that afternoon. Since she only had Lydia’s address, and wasn’t that familiar with the town, they decided to take Matt’s rental car with its built-in GPS.
The drive down the hill was beautiful, but short. It took them less than ten minutes to pull up to Lydia’s house, tucked out of sight and way back from the street, with a long driveway that looked as if it led to nowhere. Matt made the turn, marked only with a battered mailbox, and maneuvered his mid-sized rental along the winding drive until the trees finally opened up into a large clearing with a two-story house set right in the center.
A wide picture window graced the front of Lydia’s residence, which had a small porch and simple gable roof. It looked large enough that Nicki, who was used to her townhouse back in Soldoff and the compact apartments in New York City where she grew up, wondered who else lived there besides Lydia. She hadn’t thought to ask how old the daughter was, or if the second Mrs. Boral had remarried and was now Mrs. Somebody-Else.
Matt pulled the car up to the front steps and shut off the engine. He turned in his seat to look at Nicki. “How high up on the suspect list is this ex-wife?”
“I haven’t talked to her, so I don’t really know. Why?”
He shrugged. “This place is pretty isolated, that’s all.”
Nicki glanced over at the house and then back at Matt. “Well, if she’s a closet serial killer and locks us in her basement, Alex knows where we are.”
“Funny,” Matt muttered as he shoved open the car door.
Nicki hid her smile when he raced around the front of the car to be sure he was by her side when she started up the steps to the porch. Lydia Boral answered the door on the first knock, making Nicki think that she’d been watching them through the peephole.
Tall and thin, with angular features and short brown hair, she led them into a spacious living room with a huge, sectional couch and a wide coffee table with a stone top. Nicki took a seat on the couch and Matt sat right next to her. He draped his arm across the back, his hand dropping down to rest lightly on her shoulder.
Lydia settled herself into a chair that put the large coffee table between them.
“So,” she started out, her gaze shifting between Nicki and Matt. “I’m Robin’s second wife, but I suspect you already know that. And you said you’re a friend of Gin Ashton?”
“More of a friend of a friend. But Gin has asked me to help the police solve Robin’s murder,” Nicki said.
“Why?” Lydia’s blunt demand had Nicki blinking several times. “Why did she ask you? Are you some kind of off-duty cop?”
“No. I’m a writer.” Nicki smiled at Lydia’s confused look. “And this is Matt.”
“I’m her editor,” Matt supplied.
Lydia smiled at him. “Really? That sounds like an interesting job.”
Nicki wasn’t the least surprised that Lydia had warmed up to Matt a lot more than to her. The woman had the stare of a female predator. Moving a little closer to Matt, Nicki put one hand on his knee. Lydia’s eyes followed the movement before she raised them to meet Nicki’s steady gaze.
“A writer, huh? Did Gin sell the story of my husband’s murder and Brad’s involvement in it to the tabloids?”
“Your ex-husband,” Nicki reminded her. “And no, Gin didn’t sell the story to anyone. At least not as far as I know.”
“Then why did she want you to talk to me?”
Matt gave Nicki’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Nicki’s an amateur detective, Mrs. Boral. She’s solved a number of cases, which is why Gin asked her to look into this one.”
“An amateur detective? What? Like Nancy Drew?”
Trying not to be offended by Lydia Boral’s nasty tone, Nicki could understand why Paul had referred to her as the wicked witch of the bay. The woman really didn’t have any manners at all.
“Chief Thomas wants to know why you haven’t returned any of his calls,” Nicki said bluntly. If Lydia wasn’t going to display any manners, then neither was she.
“I intend to. Just as soon as I get hold of my lawyer.” Lydia reached into a small box on the coffee table and brought out a cigarette and a book of matches. When she lit it up, Nicki wrinkled her nose at the smell.
The older woman blew out a puff of smoke before fixing her gaze on the couple sitting across from her. “I’m aware of the drill. The ex-spouse is always the first suspect in a murder. I watch enough crime shows on TV to know that.”
“Are you guilty of his murder?” Matt asked. Nicki tried not to grin at the look of outrage on Lydia’s face.
“Of course not!” Lydia snapped out. “If that’s all you’ve come to ask, then you’ve got your answer. Please pass it on to the chief.”
Nicki decided to try a different approach. “I don’t know why you’d be a suspect, you’ve been divorced for a while, haven’t you?”
“About six years,” Lydia confirmed. “And I have no idea if the old bastard changed his will or not, if that’s what you’re fishing around for.” She puffed out another stream of smoke. “Our daughter should rightfully inherit, since she’s his only child. But the last will I saw, I got everything. Except his business, of course. That all went to Paul.” She leaned her head back against the chair and closed her eyes. “Now wouldn’t that be a fine can of worms?”
“Where’s your daughter, Mrs. Boral? Nicki glanced over at several pictures lined up along the mantel over the fireplace. Every single one featured a slim dark-haired girl, smiling into the camera.
“Christina’s at college. She attends the University of Washington in Seattle. Tina is studying to be an architect.” Lydia’s eyes took on a fierce glow. “And she’ll be a good one, too.”
“And you said the business went to Paul if Robin died?” Nicki asked. Funny. Paul hadn’t mentioned that.
Robin’s ex-wife frowned. “I’m not really sure. I don’t remember if the will named Paul specifically, or simply stated it was to go to his business partner. In
which case that would mean Brad Ashton.”
Nicki raised an eyebrow and looked over at Matt, who stared back at her. Inheriting the entire business would certainly be enough motive for Brad to kill his partner. Was that the piece of information that Gin was holding back?
“Which would suit me just fine.”
Now Matt gave Nicki the questioning look before turning a smile on Lydia. “Why is that Mrs. Boral?”
“When Robin and I got married, he had me sign a pre-nup agreement that I would never have any claim on his bakery business. But when the divorce settlement came around, I gave Robin my share in our house, and took an interest in the business instead. I was the one who talked Robin into dumping his going-nowhere arrangement with Paul and his shop full of daisies and taking on Brad instead. And I was right about that. The business took off. Robin only had a bakery before he hooked up with Brad. Now he has an entire catering line, and a lot more clients than just the St. Armand.”
Matt pushed his glasses further up his nose. “So your piece of the business has gained a lot of value?”
“So has Robin’s, and I won’t get a bigger piece of it no matter how dead he is.” Lydia sniffed. “Look. Robin and I haven’t had the best relationship since the divorce. Hell, we didn’t have that great a relationship during the marriage. That man was impossible to live with. He gave new meaning to the word ‘stubborn’.” She leaned over the single ashtray on the coffee table and ground out her cigarette. “But you don’t have to take my word for it. Ask that whiny girlfriend of his.”
Nicki’s ears perked up. Girlfriend? Something else Paul hadn’t mentioned. Or Gin.
Seeing the younger woman’s interest, Lydia leaned over even further. “Mink Fusion. Have you ever heard a more ridiculous name? She’s not only a good twenty years younger than he is, that’s also about her I.Q. She’s been hanging around for the last five years or so, probably hoping to get a ring out of my ex. I could have told her Robin would never marry her. He didn’t bother to marry me until Tina was almost five years old.”
