High Deceit

by C. E. Waterman

  “Is this about Mark Clayton?” The voice sounded far away.

  “Yeah, can you give me any information on his investigation?”

  “First of all, how is he? Is he awake yet?”

  How much did Bob know? “No, but he’s stable, so we’re hoping it’ll be soon. I’m trying to keep him from getting railroaded before he even has a chance to wake up and defend himself. Is there anything you can tell me?” Interfering in an Internal Affairs’ investigation could cost Peter his job, but Mark was worth it.

  “I don’t know much because I’m not working this case. I heard they’ve zeroed in on Mark, and they don’t want to hear anything else.”

  Oh, great, just what he thought.

  Bob huffed. “Let me pull it up. It looks like we did the autopsy on Ms. Carroll right away because of the officer involvement. I don’t think there’s much on this report you don’t already know. A blonde female shot in the chest with a 9mm at close range. Is that what Mark carried?”

  “Yeah, but the gun at the scene wasn’t the one he usually carries. That one’s missing.”

  “Ah. Ballistics hasn’t come in yet. Was his police issue gun found at home?”

  “No.”

  “Hmm.”

  Peter wondered what Bob was thinking. Why would Mark have another gun? They must have planted it on him. He hadn’t reported his gun stolen, and Peter was sure he would have. It was a pretty serious oversight.

  “The angle of the exit wound is slightly up from the entrance wound, so your shooter is most likely shorter than your victim.” Bob went on. “Mark is how tall?”

  “About six feet.”

  “It says here Cindy was five eleven without shoes, so she would be about six with tennis shoes on. But that isn’t enough to clear him on its own.”

  “What about being shot from below, like from the main floor to a mezzanine?” From the blood spray that didn’t happen, but he wanted Bob to say it.

  “No, the trajectory wasn’t steep enough, and gunshot residue on the victim suggests the shooter was within three to five feet of the victim.”

  “What about Mark’s clothes? Can you tell if he discharged his weapon?”

  “No, I don’t have anything here except the autopsy file. They’re locking this down, so I don’t think I’ll be able to help much. If I hear something I think will help you, I’ll give you a call. I liked Mark.”

  Peter hung up and sat back. Liked, he’d said. As if Mark were already dead. The room was empty, so he pulled out the notes he’d started on everyone in the unit. He and Mark had been best friends too long for him to be involved in something Peter didn’t know about. He would not consider him a suspect. There had to be another option.

  Before he could begin, Officer Daniels approached and dropped a file on his desk. “I got the names and addresses you asked for from the dinner the other night. Turns out it wasn’t a charity event; it was a senate fundraiser.”

  “Oh? Which one?”

  “Senator Allen.”

  “Anybody interesting on the guest list?”

  “Depends on what you call interesting. The mayor’s on it, which is reasonable since it’s his party, but I didn’t see Donovan’s name.” He grinned. “I wonder how he wriggled out of it this time.”

  Peter shrugged. “Knowing how much he hates these things, maybe the mayor gives him a pass now and then. Before you go, what did you find on the number I gave you from Robin’s phone?”

  “You were right. It was a throwaway.”

  “Pretty much what I expected.” He pinched his lip between two fingers then pulled his hand away. “Do we have any news on the green sedan?”

  Daniels shook his head. “Nothing so far. Our garages haven’t seen it, but if he drove it down to Denver, we may never find it.”

  “Let’s get someone calling all the places they can find in Louisville, Lafayette, Boulder, and as much of Denver Metro as you can. Have them ask if they’ve seen a green sedan with damage to the front left side. It would’ve been yesterday or today, so they should remember. Or it could still come in this week.”

  When Daniels nodded and left, Peter scanned the list. Pinon Creek was still small enough that the Sky Lake Hotel was the only place suitable to host an event of any size, so this had to be it.

  The mayor was there all right, along with many city leaders and the more influential members of Pinon Creek society, as well as some other names Peter recognized—Carlo Litzi and Dominic Rossetti.

  Peter grinned. They might be worth a closer look.

  13

  Before starting his shift, Tony ran upstairs to see if his father needed anything. If so, maybe he could get out of clearing tables. The door was closed, so now he had no choice. He huffed and started back down the hall. He had just swung around the corner to the stairs when the door clicked open and Carlo bellowed.

  “Dominic, it has already been decided. I know you don’t like it, but that’s too bad. And if you don’t see to it, I will.”

  Tony sprinted down the stairs before Carlo or his dad caught him listening. What was that about? And why did Dad put up with Carlo’s attitude?

  He slowed his pace through the dining room. If he took Jimmy’s place in the fall, it would mean working for Carlo. Ugh. Maybe it would work out, but judging from what had just happened, his dad wouldn’t be any help if Carlo became nasty. He passed the hostess stand and smiled at his mom. Maybe he should learn to cook.

  As he dodged the occupied tables in the dining room, his cell phone rang. Uh-oh, he forgot to turn it on vibrate. He fumbled it out of his pocket to shut off the ring. Sure enough, his mother heard it and shot him the evil eye. Lucy’s image grinned from the screen. He hurried into the kitchen, where his mom couldn’t see, and answered.

  “Hi, Tony. How’re you doing?”

  Better since she was calling. “Good, clearing tables.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t get you in trouble, did I?”

  He wouldn’t care if she did. “No, don’t worry. It’s fine. What’s up?”

  “Do you remember the guy who taught youth group last week, Mark Clayton?”

  “Yeah, he was good. You know, down-to-earth, not so religious.” Ugh, why did he say that? He hoped she knew what he meant.

  “Yeah, I like him, too. Anyway, he’s a policeman, and he was shot in the line of duty.”

  Did he hear her right? “Shot? Is he OK?”

  “The doctors think so, but for now he’s still unconscious. His wife, Robin, is a good friend of my family, and we’re going to the hospital to visit tomorrow. Do you want to come?”

  Did he want to come? Was the Pope Catholic? “Yeah, sure. What time?”

  “How about four o’clock, after school? We don’t have to stay long, but I want Robin to know we care.”

  “Hey, I hope he gets better. I’ll pick you up at four.”

  When he hung up, Tony shot his fist in the air. Yes! Lucy was beginning to like him. Really like him. Maybe even enough to go out with him on a real date. Lunches after church at her house were fun and all, but it would be great to be alone with her and just talk. He turned his phone to silent and shoved it in his back pocket. Just in time, too. His mom came around the corner.

  When she saw him, she smiled. “You look happy. What happened?”

  “What? Can’t a guy be happy?”

  She ruffled his hair and handed him an apron. “Would this happen to be about a cute little brunette?”

  Tony slipped the apron over his head and tied it in back. “Maybe…hey, I need the night off tomorrow. Is that OK?”

  “Yeah, you know I have a sweet spot for romance.” She swatted him on the rear as she passed by. “Don’t be out too late.”

  He got the bus tub and moved to the first table. It had never taken him this long to ask a girl out. Something about her was different, though, and it was clear from the start that if he didn’t handle it right, he wouldn’t get another chance. An invitation to lunch with her family had taken weeks. Ta
ke it slow. Don’t blow it.

  He cleared the first table and wiped it off, moving to the kitchen to unload. He tried to put Lucy out of his mind and concentrate on his job, but his grin kept returning. Visiting sick people wasn’t his idea of a date, but since it meant seeing Lucy again, it would be worth it. And Mark was a good guy, he didn’t deserve something like this. Tony cleared and wiped down several tables.

  His mom came by, squeezed his shoulders, and kissed him on the cheek. “Two of our servers called in sick, and I’ll need you to help out.”

  “What if someone wants alcohol?”

  “Gina will circulate with the drinks tray. Thankfully, it’s not Friday or Saturday night. Tell them she’ll be by to take their drinks order.” She started to move around him and stopped. “Hey, do you think Lucy would like to help? We have a ten-top reserved and an eight-top at the same time.”

  “Can she?” Without waiting for a response, he pulled out his cell phone and hit a speed dial button. “I’ll ask.”

  Lucy answered on the first ring, her voice making him smile. “Mom says we’re shorthanded at the restaurant, and she wants to know if you would like to help serve.”

  She hesitated.

  His palms began to sweat.

  “Now?”

  “Yeah. Sorry for the late notice.” He added, “You’ll get paid, and you get tips.”

  “Sounds fun, and I can use the money. I'll be right over.”

  He ran into the kitchen and changed from a black apron, to a white one with big pockets in the front. He grabbed an order pad and some pens and started taking orders, watching the door for Lucy. This would be her first time at the restaurant. Would she like his parents?

  “Excuse me, young man,” a gentle voice intruded. “I asked about the ravioli.”

  “Oh!” He blinked and focused on the table before him, pasting a quick smile in place as he answered the gray-haired woman. “The ravioli is homemade, and the filling is a choice of either beef or a four-cheese blend.”

  His parents were nothing like hers.

  “Ooh, that sounds good. I’ll have the cheese.”

  The man with her nodded. “Yes, I’ll have the same.” He closed his menu and handed it over. “And some bread please.”

  Tony jotted their orders, pen poised, patiently waiting while the lady made up her mind about the dressing on her salad.

  Sometimes his mother cursed in the kitchen. What if Lucy heard her? He’d have to keep her in the dining room.

  He was back by the computer entering an order when Lucy arrived. Her beautiful, long brown hair swung past as his mother hustled her off. He bit his lip. So much for keeping her out of the kitchen. Oh, well, nothing he could do about it now.

  It turned out to be so busy, he didn’t even think about her. Or his mother. By the time he slowed, only a few customers remained. His mom came over with a smile.

  “OK, guys, I can cut you loose now. Gina and Mike can handle the rest.” She handed them their wages and tips and turned to Lucy. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done tonight without you and Tony.”

  Lucy shoved the wad of bills into her pocket with a grin. “Wow. Thanks, Mrs. Rossetti. This was great. Anytime you need someone to fill in, give me a call.”

  His mother’s smile was huge.

  Tony grinned. Mom liked Lucy, he could tell. “You guys take some dessert home with you.”

  Tony folded his money in his wallet and took Lucy to the kitchen to pick out a dessert. Although it was late, they decided to go back to his house to eat.

  He let her in the front door, and she gazed around the large entry, bending to take off her shoes. He kicked his off near hers and showed her to the kitchen.

  She scanned the black granite countertops and tipped her head to the pendant lights and stainless appliances. Then she ran her hand over the white marble island and perched on a barstool. “Wow, this is beautiful. Your mom has great taste.”

  Tony glanced around, but his gaze bounced right back to Lucy. She was way better to look at than a dumb old kitchen. He probably shouldn’t say so though. “Mom sometimes experiments in here, so she wanted a nice space.”

  He dropped the tiramisu on the island and went to get plates and silverware.

  Lucy lifted the cover off the to-go box. “You’re so lucky. I never get food like this.”

  “Believe it or not, neither do I. You tend not to want it so much when you clean it off people’s plates all day.”

  She laughed.

  He placed her piece on a plate and pushed it over. “So is your whole family going tomorrow?” Maybe if he got her to talk about them, he’d find out if they liked him.

  She picked up her fork. “My mom’s going, and my brothers. Dad has to work.”

  Tony set his piece on a plate and pushed it over next to hers. It would be easier if her dad wasn’t there. Her mom liked him, but he felt uncomfortable around her dad. Her brothers were bad enough. They were nice to him, but he wasn’t sure they wanted him dating their sister.

  He and Lucy laughed and talked, and ate their desserts. Afterward, he walked her down the driveway and opened her car door. Strange how he wanted to do these small courtesies for her that he used to think were corny.

  She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and slid into her car.

  He watched her turn the corner before heading inside. When he strolled in the door, he tried to visualize it from her perspective—the flowers in the entry, the polished furniture in the living room, the wide staircase. Her whole house could fit in two of these rooms, but hers felt warm and cozy. Given the chance, he’d rather live there than this giant place.

  He mounted the stairs two at a time and entered his bathroom. Even here, the differences were obvious. Marble gleamed on every surface, but it was cold. He began brushing his teeth. Her family was so cool. Too bad his couldn’t be more like hers. They actually seemed to like each other. Like Grandma Katherine. She went to church and made him pray before meals and stuff.

  He climbed into bed and stared up at the ceiling. After almost forgetting to pray that first lunch at Lucy’s house, he’d remembered. It was a good thing, too, because her brothers were watching. They were Christians, and they believed all the stuff about God and Jesus saving your soul and all that. Sometimes he wished he believed in something. He turned over. Grandma would like Lucy. Maybe they could visit her sometime. But Lucy wouldn’t want to go out with him anymore if she knew what his family was really like.

  14

  Robin gripped her coffee cup with one hand and flipped past hangers with the other. Today was Cindy Carroll’s funeral. She chose a black rayon dress and trudged into her bathroom to shower. Was it a good idea to go? She didn’t know Cindy well, but she felt she had to pay her respects. If he were awake, Mark would be going and taking her. The zing Agent Thompson had launched her way sizzled in her head. There was no way Mark was having an affair, but she had to know more about this woman.

  “They’re having a small service for Cindy tomorrow,” Libby had said. “Why don’t you come with Tori and me? Three sets of ears are better than two. If we get people talking about her, maybe we can find out what she was like, how she ended up in the warehouse, and why she was with Mark.”

  It sounded good yesterday, but now, facing it, it seemed crazy. What if Cindy’s family thought Mark was responsible in some way for her death? Would they shun her, maybe even kick her out? She scowled at the mirror as she brushed her teeth. It didn’t matter. She had to try.

  She headed downstairs to the kitchen for some breakfast. Libby would be here in fifteen minutes.

  Libby picked her up, and they sped to the church. They didn’t even try to turn in to the full lot. Instead, Libby drove around the tree-lined streets, searching for a place to park. She ended up two streets away, in front of a tan house with red shutters.

  Robin got out of the car and breathed in the cool scent of the crab apple tree blooming in the yard. She tried to calm the flutter in her
stomach as they walked to the church. An old-fashioned steeple with a cross on top towered over the average-sized white church. They threaded their way up the broad steps, through the crowd at the front door, and entered.

  With a balcony hidden under high vaulted ceilings, it was tough to know how many the church held, but the ample pine pews in the sanctuary were full. Already people were standing in the aisles, and a line formed along the back for those who would have to stand.

  “This is a small service?” Robin whispered.

  “I’m surprised, too. I didn’t know so many people knew her.” Libby lifted onto her toes then jostled her way to the middle section.

  Robin craned her neck, seeing around Libby’s head to where another Libby waved to them. Uncanny how alike the twins were. Robin never could tell them apart, but since she seldom saw Tori, it didn’t matter. She followed Libby through the throng to the saved seats, trying to keep from stepping on anyone.

  Peter and Greg were there with the chief, but Libby didn’t stop to talk. She just waved and moved forward to sit with her sister.

  The minister spoke of faith and passion—faith in God and passion in life. He said Cindy carried a passion for getting drugs off the street and away from kids. “She gave her life,” he said, “in the pursuit of this noble cause.”

  Libby tapped Robin’s hand and nudged her toward the aisle.

  The service had concluded. Grabbing her purse, she slid along the pew and joined the flow heading outside.

  People milled around expressing their condolences to the family.

  Libby and Tori skirted the line and approached an older woman waiting at the door.

  “Did you get a key?” Libby asked.

  The woman held up a small ring with two keys on it. “I have my own for when Virginia goes on vacation.”

  “Good, we’ll meet you there.”

  Stepping around a bed of daffodils, Robin hurried to keep up with Libby as she strode across the grass. For a small woman, she really moved. “Where are we going?”

  Libby fished car keys from her purse. “We’re setting food out at Virginia’s for the reception.”

  “Oh.” Robin trailed her to the car. At least this would make her feel better about crashing the funeral.