High Deceit

by C. E. Waterman

  They drove to Mrs. Carroll’s house and unloaded coolers from both Libby’s and Tori’s trunks.

  Other people arrived on the same errand, and soon, enticing food arranged buffet-style, heaped two long tables while extras crammed the counters.

  Mrs. Carroll arrived minutes later. Her eyes grew large. Then she blinked rapidly. Had they made her cry again? “I was going to have a meat and vegetable tray or something.” Her lips trembled then pressed into a thin line. “I hadn’t even thought about what people were going to eat. Thank you so much.”

  Robin stared at her feet. She hadn’t thought to bring anything, let alone the amount of food Libby unloaded from her trunk. Did everyone make something but her? She hurried to help Libby and Tori arrange their offerings so no one would know she had arrived empty-handed.

  The three of them took turns serving at the buffet and mingling with the guests, trying to understand Cindy. Stories about her sense of humor and her zest for life filled the house. Having experienced death in their family when their parents died, Libby and Tori said talking about the loved one was good for the grieving process.

  Robin watched Tori speak to a family member and tried to copy her, encouraging friends to talk. Hopefully, one of them could uncover why she might have been in the warehouse with Mark.

  A blond young man resembling Cindy stood in a small group of students.

  Robin hovered at the edge with a drinks tray.

  “She was so stubborn sometimes, but she was fearless,” he said. “One time she and Mom had been shopping all day, and when she dropped Mom off, she stopped in for a glass of water. The rest of us were gone somewhere, and the house was quiet. Mom entered first and froze.”

  Robin leaned in closer.

  He chuckled. “Cindy tripped over her, and when she stood up, she saw a man in a mask in the living room with the computer pulled out and all but one cord disconnected. He hesitated, not knowing what to do. He must have thought they’d be out longer or something. Cindy screamed, ‘Get out of here!’ and stomped her foot.”

  Everyone, including Robin, laughed.

  “The guy dropped the computer and ran past them and out the door. Mom said Cindy was so mad, she was surprised the guy didn’t get a kick in the pants on his way out.”

  The group laughed again, and one by one, they spoke of the Cindy they knew. Some were crying, some were laughing, but everyone had a story.

  When the conversation lagged, Robin led them over to a table laden with gooey desserts, and their eyes lit up.

  “You know, it would be in complete character for her to be in the warehouse, but not for the reason the moron policeman suggested,” a woman spoke.

  Oh, good. Finally.

  “I can’t believe he thought she was mixed up in it. It makes me furious. She hated drugs. She was on such a mission. She wouldn’t have stopped until all illegal drugs were wiped out of Pinon Creek. I wish she’d lived to see her dream come true.” The woman’s voice broke and she sniffled.

  One of the guys reached over to hold her. Most of the rest were wiping their eyes.

  Another guy, Brandon, Robin thought that was his name, said, “Hey, remember the time she got all upset about the veterinary program?”

  Some nodded with smiles.

  He spoke to the ones who had blank looks. “We started taking vet classes because we thought we wanted to help animals. Then we found out they were using healthy animals to practice surgeries and putting them to sleep afterward. The college tried to tell her it didn’t matter because they took them from the shelters and they were going to die anyway.” He rolled his eyes and turned to a couple of the other guys. “Remember when she dragged us to a protest, and we marched for three days?”

  “You bet!” the tallest one shouted. “I still have the calluses.”

  Others laughed and murmured.

  “She got us all on TV, and the dean made a huge mistake,” the crying woman said. “He told her she couldn’t learn to operate on dead tissue. So she said, ‘What are you telling me? That students learning to be surgeons in medical school operate on healthy people and then kill them afterward?’ I thought I was going to die laughing at the expression on old Grimshaw’s face when she said that. And on TV!”

  “Well, don’t keep us in suspense, what happened?” one of the brunettes, maybe Laurie, said.

  “Yeah, what happened?” Robin said.

  Brandon faced her. “Some of the teachers agreed and asked permission to open a small vet practice to help animals instead of killing them. Most had never felt right about it. Grimshaw approved it, and now the school has one.”

  About three hours later, after cleaning everything, Libby was ready to take Robin home. They hugged Mrs. Carroll good-bye, and Robin felt about as low as she could remember. This girl, who defended causes, died defending the one she believed in most. She must have been a remarkable person. And here Robin was, only here to protect her reputation. Well, and Mark’s. She’d do anything to protect Mark.

  Knowing Cindy’s life was cut short when her life, which meant so little, went on…Well, Someone upstairs must have messed up. What would she have done, had something similar happened to her? Probably curl up in a corner and hide. She certainly wouldn’t have charged after them as Cindy had.

  Libby unlocked the doors, and Robin climbed into her car. No way should such an admirable young woman have died for nothing. The people who did this would have to pay. They had to be stopped.

  But what could she do?

  Libby turned in her seat and eyed her before starting the engine. “Did you find out anything?”

  “I can’t say I uncovered anything helpful.”

  Libby pulled away from the curb. “I know. Me either. It’s not like her friends are going to say anything negative about her at her funeral, but she was an exceptional person, wasn’t she? Who would want to kill her?”

  “Aren’t we assuming the drug dealers did?”

  “Yeah, I guess so. It’s the only thing she had in common with Mark.”

  Robin glanced at Libby’s profile. “The police suggested she might be having an affair with him.”

  Libby turned the corner into the hospital parking lot. “You can’t even think for a minute he’d do something like that, Robin, for heaven’s sake.”

  Chastised, Robin decided to change the subject. “Did you hear the guy say something about first Joey, now her? Do you think she might have found out something more about how Joey got the drugs that killed him?”

  “After hearing about her, I think it’s entirely possible. Maybe if we find out more about her little brother, we can find out what Cindy was thinking when she went to the warehouse.”

  “We also need to find out why Mark was with her. Did he meet her there or was he following up on something and he didn’t expect her?”

  Libby glided to the curb, and Robin reached for the door handle. She turned. “You know, we’ve all been thinking Mark may have suspected someone in the department, but what if Cindy suspected someone? Do you think something she told him made him afraid to contact dispatch?”

  Libby paused, her hand on the gearshift. “Could be, but why wouldn’t he confide in Peter? He knew Peter would die for him. Why didn’t he trust him?” Hurt tightened Libby’s voice.

  “He did trust him, Libby, I know he did. There’s another reason.” She paused for a second. “Maybe we should concentrate on Joey. Can you talk to Peter? Maybe find out what happened?”

  “Yeah, I guess. At least it’s a place to start.”

  Robin thanked Libby for the ride, slid from her seat, and hurried inside. She checked her phone again. No messages from Mark’s parents. She didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one.

  She raced to the elevator, desperate now to see her husband. Mrs. Carroll said Chief Donovan was such a nice man and even visited Joey in the hospital.

  Joey had taken quite a shine to him. Apparently, the day he died, he’d wanted to talk to the chief, and Cindy told him Chief Do
novan would be visiting later that evening. He was dead before Donovan got the chance. What if Joey knew something? His mother didn’t seem upset about it. No one thought it important. Maybe it wasn’t. But what if it was? What if Joey told someone else? Someone he thought he could trust, like a policeman? Like one of Mark’s friends?

  15

  Tony checked his watch again. The teacher droned on. If he didn’t leave soon, he wouldn’t be able to run home. Finally, the bell rang, and he flew out to his car. No time to go to his locker, he’d have to get his homework after.

  Bright sunlight blinded him as he hit the double doors. Sliding into his car, he put on his sunglasses and raced out of the parking lot. Mom usually went home between the lunch rush and dinner. Maybe he could catch her there.

  At the top of the stairs, he glanced into his parents’ room—no one there. He raced to the kitchen—vacant, too. He’d hoped to ask her if he should buy flowers for Mark. Mom never showed up at the hospital empty-handed, but did you buy flowers for guys? It seemed kinda weird.

  He plucked an apple out of the dish on the counter and munched on it as he drove to the restaurant. He pulled around, went through the back door and down the hall. The scent of freshly baked bread drifted his way long before he reached the loaded racks. He breathed in the garlic fragrance of Mom’s famous sauce and the spicy scent of sausage. His stomach growled. The apple wasn’t cutting his hunger. He grabbed a small loaf of bread off the top rack and tore off a hunk.

  Mom stood at the other side of the kitchen in the middle of a meeting. The sous chef, the line cooks, and the prep cooks surrounded her, faces intent as they nodded at her directions.

  A man shoving a dolly loaded with produce boxes asked him to move aside.

  He stepped into the kitchen to let him pass. This was a bad idea. She would want to know who Mark was and why Tony wanted to go, or worse come up with something for him to do.

  He’d ask Lucy about the flowers. He pivoted and tiptoed back out. She’d know…all women knew these things, right? It was communicated to them at birth or something. Anyway, if he got stopped now, he’d be late picking her up. Not happening.

  He slipped behind the shelves and down the hall again. As he opened the back door, Carlo’s voice echoed into the hallway. He stuck his head around the door. Carlo and that Oscar guy from the meeting walked near the dumpsters and stood talking. He didn’t want Carlo to see him, so he waited. Maybe they’d move on. But if they didn’t, he either had to go to the kitchen, and risk his mother giving him a job to do or pass Carlo and hear a bunch of insults.

  Insults were better than being late today of all days. He took a step forward.

  “Take this now.” Carlo handed Oscar a small packet. “When it’s time to move, I’ll call. You’ll get the other half after.” They moved away from the dumpsters and around the building toward the parking lot.

  Tony heaved a chest full of dumpster air, and coughing, sprinted to his car. If he didn’t hurry, he’d still be late.

  Lucy stood waiting on her porch, and her mother and brothers weren’t with her. She came across her lawn as he got out. “It’s just us. Mom and the guys are going later.”

  He opened her door and closed her inside, running back around to his side. The car growled to life. He loved that sound.

  “So how well do you know Mark?”

  She shifted in her seat. “He and Robin volunteer at some of the same things my parents do. Mostly youth stuff, you know, the mission trip last year and the passion play. And he coaches my brothers’ summer softball team. So we know them pretty well.” He glanced over, and she grinned. “How about you?”

  Did her eyes always have that sparkle? He turned his gaze back to the road. “I just know him from Sunday school. But I like him a lot.”

  He drove in silence for a few blocks and then stole another glance at her. She was staring out the window. “I can’t believe how nice it is out today,” he said. “The snow we had is completely gone.” OK, moron, is that all you can think of, the weather?

  “Yeah, it’s beautiful out.”

  The silence lengthened. The hospital loomed ahead. He found a space to park and hopped out, hurrying to open her door.

  Sure enough, once inside, Lucy led the way straight to the gift shop and made a beeline to the ferns. He almost laughed. A plant was the perfect gift for a guy. Why didn’t he think of it? He pulled out his wallet, and her eyes sparkled again as she handed it over. “My mom said he’s in Room 413.”

  The earthy smell of the plant in his hands didn’t quite cover the antiseptic tang in the air. They stepped into the elevator. Tony pushed four and scowled at the gleaming elevator numbers. He should say something witty. Something to make her laugh. Or at least something to make her think he cared about the cop. Or…well, anything! Between last night and today, they’d never been alone this long. Usually her rowdy brothers kept the conversation interesting. By now, she probably thought he was a complete dweeb.

  The doors opened, and they filed out. Lucy paused to read the wall sign then veered right toward 413. He tried not to look into any of the occupied rooms along the hall. It was easy to see which one was Mark’s—a police officer sat in the hall outside. He wrote their names on a clipboard along with the time.

  Robin stood when she saw them and hustled over. “Lucy, come on in.” She gave Lucy a hug and then took the plant from him. “Tony, it’s good to see you. Thank you for the gift. It’s lovely.” She held the plant with one hand and gave him a side hug with the other.

  Man, these church people sure were huggers. Tony couldn’t remember getting hugged this much except from Grandma. But then she was a church person, too. Maybe this was how they all behaved.

  Robin ushered them to a couple of chairs.

  Tony focused on Robin, trying not to stare at Mark. He looked the same except for the white bandage on his head and the wires sticking out of his gown. He lay there like a statue. An older couple sat across from him—must be Mark’s parents. Some women hovered, too. Low conversation surrounded him. Robin looked upset. Had she gotten bad news from the doctor? She tried hard to be upbeat, but tension vibrated in the room.

  Lucy must have felt it, too, because she stood up. After smiling and shaking everyone’s hand, he followed her out.

  Crisp outdoor air eased the hospital smells from his lungs. He opened Lucy’s door then hurried to climb in himself.

  She turned to him as he buckled his seatbelt. “Do you think he’s OK? Robin seemed pretty worried.”

  “I thought so, too. But I don’t know her as well as you do, so I didn’t want to say anything. He looked good though, like he was sleeping.”

  “I know. I had the urge to shake him.”

  He pulled out of the parking lot, careful not to squeal his tires. Something told him it wouldn’t impress her. “I wonder what happened. They don’t know yet do they?”

  “No. Mom says they’re hoping to find out more when he wakes up.”

  “Robin’s a cool person though, isn’t she?” he asked, realizing he liked her. “She matches Mark.”

  Lucy grinned. “I know what you mean. They’re good together, and I like her. Listen, I’ll be going to the hospital fairly often if you want to come sometimes.”

  “OK.” He swallowed a grin and focused on the green light. “Let me know next time, and I’ll see if I can come.”

  He hoped she would call tomorrow.

  16

  After the funeral, Peter returned to the station and picked up the list of people who’d attended the campaign dinner. Hmm, Dominic Rossetti and Carlo Litzi. He’d love it if they were involved. Something was off about them. Nothing was ever proven, of course, but they’d been suspects a few times. He glanced up as Greg and David entered.

  David grabbed his keys out of his drawer and left again.

  Greg sat at his desk.

  Peter sauntered over. “Perfect timing. Care to take a trip with me?”

  “Sure, are you going to the hospital?”
Greg pushed back his chair.

  “No, but it involves a great Italian restaurant.”

  Greg’s eyes narrowed. “I know it can’t be lunch because I saw what you ate after the funeral.” He tapped his fingers on the armrest. “What have you got?”

  Peter handed over the pages. “Look who went to the campaign dinner Thursday night.”

  Greg skimmed the list. “Ah, Rossetti and Litzi, eh? I’d love to catch them at something. That Carlo creep just screams sleazy, and the I-know-something-you-don’t look on his face makes me want to punch him.”

  Peter laughed. “I didn’t know you had such violent tendencies.”

  Greg followed him out. “Only when it comes to his kind. You know…the cocky type.”

  Peter pulled into Rossetti’s parking lot. The location—high on a hill overlooking Pinon Creek, surrounded by pine, blue spruce, and aspen trees—was outstanding. Beautifully landscaped, the property alone must be worth a few million.

  “Look at this place.” He slid out of the car. “Libby and I’ve been landscaping our backyard. The blue spruce and bristlecone pines near the entrance are worth a fortune. They might be indigenous to the area, but bristlecones are pricey.”

  Greg joined him, and they sauntered to the edge of the parking lot, taking in the vista before them. “What a view. They spared no expense building this place. Wonder what their bank loan is?”

  “I can’t imagine.” Shaking his head, Peter led the way to the entrance.

  A quiet aura of elegance greeted them. Big windows framed the mountain’s natural beauty on one side and the city of Pinon Creek on the other. During the day, one requested a table with a mountain view, but at night, the city lights offered a fantastic vista. A large bar nestled into the left side of the grand space, and a graceful staircase curved to the second floor.

  They paused inside the door.

  Peter kept his voice low. “I’ve done some checking, and both the land and the restaurant are owned by Dominic and Maria Rossetti.”