Countdown

by Carey Baldwin

  “After we spoke with the French state police, they inspected the gown again and made note of this.” Gretchen held up a photo of the bodice of the wedding gown.

  “I remember I could see that beadwork all the way down the beach,” Spense said.

  “Because there’s a lot of it, and underneath, in the lining is a pouch, just big enough to conceal a Ruger LCP II. It closes with Velcro. We contacted the dressmaker and were told it was a special customer request. The extra beading was added to disguise the concealed pouch.”

  “So Rose Parker had a pouch sewn into her wedding gown to conceal a pistol.” Spense whistled.

  “Sure looks that way. Although she didn’t specify to the dressmaker the purpose of the pouch. The seamstress thought it might be for carrying a wallet. But there are faint perspiration stains under the beadwork in a pattern consistent with the muzzle of an LCP. It looks a lot like premeditation. But it doesn’t explain why Rose would attempt to kill her husband in an underwater shooting.”

  “I like the moms’ idea that she planned to do it later, at the hotel. And I’ve got motive right here.” Dutch tossed a manila envelope onto the coffee table. “An insurance agent from Riverbend, Texas, faxed these over this morning.”

  “I’m surprised the agent just handed over the policies without a warrant.” As Caitlin smiled her appreciation at Dutch, she couldn’t help noticing he was sitting just a skosh closer to Gretchen than usual.

  “If you want to get your money’s worth out of Dutch and me, you’ve got to give us a tougher assignment than convincing a small-town insurance man to give up the goods,” Gretchen said. “So no, we didn’t have any trouble persuading him. We Skyped him, flashed our Bureau creds, and he caved. Dutch was going to offer him tickets to a Cowboys’ game, but it wasn’t necessary.”

  “Maybe you two should go to the game instead,” Spense suggested. “Gretchen could make a side trip to Dallas for the weekend.”

  “I’m in if Dutch is in. Which one of these three-million-dollar life insurance policies were you interested in?”

  Caitlin caught the sparkle in Gretchen’s eye.

  Gretchen was dribbling out information to make things more interesting. But Caitlin didn’t mind playing along. “There’s more than one?”

  Spense swept the envelope off the table and dumped its contents. “We’re interested in any life insurance policy that Tommy Preston holds on the Parker woman or her on him.”

  “Yes, but which one?” Dutch asked.

  Caitlin had to admit, this game was getting more interesting by the minute. “Which policy?”

  “Which Parker sister?” Dutch exchanged a knowing glance with Gretchen.

  Spense, who’d been shuffling through the papers, jerked his chin up. “Are you saying Tommy Preston has more than one life insurance policy on Rose?”

  “Pay attention.” Dutch grinned at his brother. “Get your Rubik’s cube out if you need to, because you should focus on what I’m telling you. Gretch and I brought you an actual clue.”

  “We don’t know what it means, but it means something,” Gretchen said. “Not only did Rose Parker and Tommy Preston hold life insurance policies on each other, but Lilly Parker and Tommy Preston have policies on each other, too.”

  “So there are four life insurance policies?” Caitlin couldn’t pretend she’d been clever enough to foresee that.

  Spense tilted back in his chair and, following his brother’s advice, reached for his cube, solved it, and smiled.

  Everyone waited expectantly.

  “Well, are you going to let the rest of us in on your epiphany or not?” Caitlin asked.

  “No epiphany. I’m just trying to wrap my head around a good reason for Tommy and Lilly to hold policies on each other. Because without one, the insurance company would have refused to issue them.”

  Spense was right. It wasn’t as if anyone could take life insurance out on another person simply because he wanted to. You needed the other person’s consent and not only that—the policy owner would have to demonstrate that the insured person’s death would result in a significant financial loss to himself. In the case of Rose and Tommy, it was a no-brainer. Insurance companies generally treated engaged couples the same as married couples. But on the flip side . . . “As far as we know there is no valid reason that would satisfy an insurance agency and allow Lilly and Tommy to take out life insurance on each other,” Caitlin said.

  “As far as we know.” Spense put his cube away. “But the policies do exist. Therefore, there’s something about Tommy Preston’s relationship to the Parker sisters that we don’t yet know. We need to learn more about their history to sort this thing out.”

  “Tommy was released from the hospital yesterday morning. He’s staying here, in this hotel,” Caitlin said. “Or we could start with Lilly. Brousseau said she’s rented a town home in Papeete. We should update him about the policies, too.”

  “You two take Preston, and Gretchen and I will track down Lilly Parker.” Dutch got to his feet.

  Spense shook his head. “You volunteered for whatever duty, right?”

  “That’s what I’m saying. Yes. Anything you need.”

  Caitlin smiled. The truth was she wanted to interview both Tommy and Lilly. And if she was a poor delegator, Spense was even worse. She knew he’d want the chance to see both parties face to face and gauge not only their words, but their body language as well. “Then it would be great if you could contact the inspector, introduce yourselves, and tell him what you’ve learned about the life insurance policies. Spense and I will interview Tommy and Lilly.”

  “But—” Gretchen started to protest.

  “And if you don’t mind,” Spense said . . . “I missed my tux fitting. It’s Papeete Formal Wear. They open at nine a.m.”

  Dutch dragged a hand through his hair, and Caitlin could tell by his expression he wanted to dive into the case, not stand in for his brother at a tux fitting. But they had almost identical builds, and it was a stroke of genius on the part of Spense, whom she was certain wanted to spend as little time in any type of formal wear as possible. And it gave her a genius idea of her own.

  Gretchen touched Dutch’s sleeve. “You did say anything.”

  “Fine,” Dutch conceded, with only a slight edge to his tone.

  “Thanks.” Caitlin smiled. “And there is one other thing . . . after the fitting . . . could you guys hang out with the moms? We promised to take them on a submarine tour.”

  “I’ve been dying to go on one of those.” Gretchen’s smile was big and genuine. “Where will you head first?”

  “To Lilly’s place,” Caitlin said. The Parker twins were a fascinoma, and she was itching to hear Lilly’s explanation for the insurance policies.

  Chapter 16

  Thursday

  Heritage Townhomes

  Papeete

  Tahiti-Nui

  Exhausted and yet somehow energized from his encounter with Rose, yesterday, Tommy steered his car into the Heritage Townhomes complex. Back at the barn, after hearing shouts, Tommy had hidden himself behind a nearby shed and watched as a man dressed in overalls and a woman in an apron charged across a green pasture after Rose. The aproned woman fell and the farmer stopped to help her, settling for cursing at Rose as she disappeared over the top of the hill.

  Tommy had never even considered showing himself to the couple. The last thing he wanted was to help the cops catch Rose. He couldn’t get to her if she were behind bars, and with Cassidy and Spenser around, a lot could go wrong. Maybe Rose didn’t trust cops, but he couldn’t count on her not to use SADIE to make a deal.

  On the run was exactly where he wanted Rose.

  There was no need to hunt her down.

  Because he knew where Lilly lived.

  And if he had Lilly, Rose would come to him.

  He’d never met a woman more obsessed with her sister than Rose Parker.

  His wooing Lilly would drive Rose to madness . . . and give him complete control
of both women.

  And control was what he needed in order to get his hands on that thumb drive.

  After, he’d give Rose a front row seat to her sister’s death.

  He parked his rented Porsche a few spots down from Lilly’s townhome in a covered space that would protect the car from the hazards of the sun. This might not be his own vehicle, but he wasn’t a cad. He liked to treat a fine automobile with the care it deserved.

  He killed the engine, and then groaned.

  From around a corner, Cassidy and Spenser appeared. They looked to be heading for Lilly’s place.

  He pressed the starter button. His engine ignited and so did his heart.

  He whipped his Porsche out of the parking lot and sped down the streets of Papeete, heading for the seedy side of town.

  He had an important purchase to make.

  When Lilly Parker opened the door to her townhome, Spense had to wipe his eyes. Whiskey fumes floated off her skin like she’d taken a bath in the stuff.

  “Nice place,” Caity said.

  Heritage Townhomes provided modest housing to locals and tourists alike, and from what Deputy Pierre Brousseau had told them, this was the same complex George Parker liked to stay in when he summered in Papeete with his family. The freestanding frame houses were small but not crowded too close together. Lilly’s unit was painted bright blue with a tall tiki totem pole and several potted pink hibiscus trees flanking the front door.

  Without warning, Lilly rocked back on her heels.

  Spense had to move quickly to break her fall. “May we come in?” he asked, though he was already inside, propping her up.

  A bleary-eyed Lilly nodded, and Caity entered, closing the door behind her.

  “You found Rose. Please tell me she’s okay.”

  Dammit.

  He regretted getting Lilly’s hopes up. He’d meant to tell her straight away why they were here, but her stumble had distracted him.

  Caity lightly touched Lilly’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, but no, we haven’t found her yet. We’re here because we have a few more questions for you—if you don’t mind.”

  They’d agreed it was best not to mention the beach incident and Rose’s barnyard escape to Lilly. They wanted to know what she knew. It was possible her sister had contacted her for help, and she hadn’t told the authorities. But judging by the look on Lilly Parker’s face, she was either worried as hell about her sister or she was a consummate actress.

  “Have we come at a bad time?” Caity asked, probably noting, like him, that Lilly was wearing the same yellow blouse as yesterday. All-over wrinkled, as though she’d slept in it.

  He could see the kitchen through an open door. Green walls. An empty bottle lying on its side on a white tile countertop.

  Caity helped Lilly to the sofa, with Lilly walking very slowly, and a little off balance. She hadn’t quite slept it off, or maybe she hadn’t slept at all.

  “We can come back in a few hours,” he said. No reason not to start with Tommy and give Lilly a chance to get it together.

  “No.” She gripped the arm of the sofa. “That’s not necessary. I can guess what you think, but I’m not drunk, just a little hung over and dead tired. You’re police. You should know that fatigue can mimic alcohol intoxication.”

  Just the fact that she could articulate her point so well made Spense believe her.

  “I don’t want to delay. If you think it will help find my sister, let’s do this now.”

  “I’ll make coffee then,” Spense said, and left Caity to tend to Lilly without waiting for permission. When he returned from the kitchen, Lilly gratefully accepted the cup he gave her. She took a sip and wrinkled her nose. “Cold.”

  Given the likelihood that she’d slosh hot coffee on herself, Spense had taken the liberty of putting ice cubes in the cup. “It’s a warm day. I thought you’d prefer it that way.”

  “You thought I’d burn myself. I’ve already told you, I’m hung over, but I’m not drunk. I’m simply exhausted and . . . sad.”

  “And that makes you every bit as likely to spill your coffee.” Caity gave Lilly’s prior argument, about fatigue mimicking drunkenness, back to her just in time for brown liquid to gush from the cup and onto her blouse.

  Lilly poked at the stain. “Maybe I should’ve just said thank you.” Then she gulped the cold brew in a few seconds, and after, put her hand on her forehead like she was taking her own temperature. “I think I’m entitled to go a little nuts under the circumstances. My sister’s accused of the attempted murder of her husband. I may never see her again, and she thinks I hate her.”

  “Why would she think that?”

  “My brain is pounding like the devil. I need an aspirin.” Lilly made a move to get up, and Caity motioned her back down.

  “I’ll get it,” Spense said. It only took a moment to locate the container that was already open on the counter near the empty whiskey bottle. He noted with some relief that the medicine bottle appeared full.

  He brought back two tablets and a glass of water.

  Lilly swallowed the aspirin and said, “Thanks. I never drank half a bottle of whiskey by myself before.”

  Caity raised an eyebrow. “Only half?”

  “Yes. I drank the rest on the morning of the wedding.”

  Spense refrained from pointing out that that meant she had indeed drunk half a bottle of booze by herself before, because he did get her point. She meant she wasn’t a drinker. And maybe that was true, current evidence to the contrary.

  “You were drinking on the morning of your sister’s wedding? But wasn’t the ceremony on the beach around sunset?”

  Lilly nodded.

  “So you were celebrating early?” Caity prompted.

  Lilly scoffed. “Celebrating? Hardly.”

  “You didn’t want your sister to marry Tommy Preston,” Spense said.

  “You guys are a couple of geniuses.”

  Spense pulled up a cane-back chair and sat down. It felt too unstable for his big frame so he stood back up. This was good. Lilly wasn’t bothering with social graces. Maybe they’d get the truth out of her. A rare event on a first—make that second—interview. “Sounds like you don’t much like Tommy Preston.”

  Lilly shook her head no, then seemed to change her mind and nodded yes. “I don’t know,” she said after a moment. Like she had to really think hard about the question. Which seemed more than a little strange. Surely she knew her own opinion of the man. Spense opened his mouth and closed it again. For now, he’d let it go.

  Caity waved her hand to include Spense and said, “Agent Spenser and I want you to know that we’re taking what you said yesterday seriously.”

  “Which part?”

  “All of it. But especially the theory that Rose might have been provoked into shooting Tommy. You say she’s never been violent before.”

  “Never.”

  “What about Tommy? Has he ever been violent?”

  “That I know of firsthand?”

  Spense’s radar went up. “Just answer the question.”

  “I don’t know.”

  Just like she didn’t know whether she liked him or not.

  “But I do know Rose. And she isn’t—violent. So thank you for listening, because that inspector seems to think that since Rose fired the gun that it was all planned out. And that she wouldn’t have run away if she weren’t guilty. But one thing life with my papa has taught me is that things aren’t always what they seem.”

  Ah yes, life with Papa. Another point to circle back to.

  “You know Rose better than anyone,” Spense said. “So if you say she’s not prone to violence, then either you’re lying or you’re correct that things aren’t as they seem. She wouldn’t have shot anyone unprovoked.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “Okay. Let’s assume not. You know any reason that would make Rose shoot Tommy?”

  “All I can think of is self-defense.”

  Caity brought her fist under her chin.
“That’s what I’m thinking, too. So let’s take that a step further. My next question is do you know any reason why Tommy would try to hurt Rose?”

  A tear slid down her cheek. “I—I really don’t know who to believe in this situation.” She exhaled audibly. “I don’t think Rose would hurt Tommy, and I also don’t think Tommy would hurt Rose. But I—I must be wrong about one of them, because everyone is saying she shot him. Why would she do that?”

  “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. There are some common motives for murder. Revenge, money, jealousy.” Caity lifted one shoulder.

  Clever how Caity had stuck money in the middle, as if it were of little significance. And yet Lilly’s posture had gone rigid at the word. Spense made a mental note and asked, “Do you happen to know if Rose or Tommy carried life insurance on each other?”

  Lilly’s lips quivered almost imperceptibly, but enough to let Spense know he’d touched on an area she hadn’t expected. “Are you aware of any life insurance policies Tommy and your sister, Rose, may own?” he rephrased.

  Lilly folded her hands tightly in her lap. She waited a few beats. Looked to Caity, though Spense had asked the question. “Not on each other. Not that she told me about. But we weren’t on good terms of late.” She unfolded her hands and tucked a piece of long blond hair behind her ear. “How I wish I could go back in time and tell her how much I love her.”

  She seemed to need a minute, so they gave her one.

  Eventually, without prompting, she continued. “I should mention that Rose and I have insurance on each other—we plan—that is we planned—to open a yoga studio together in California—that was before Tommy. And, um, Tommy and I have life insurance policies on each other, too. At least I assume he hasn’t canceled anything since the premiums are paid up for a year.” Her face drained of color. “You think Tommy might have tried to murder Rose for insurance money?”

  It was a good sign she’d volunteered the information that she and Tommy had policies on each other. Spense had expected he’d have to drag it out of her. “We should at least consider the possibility.”