“Only because of a lousy night’s sleep.” She didn’t want to admit that this conversation and the heat were draining her.
“You’re having a rough time of it, aren’t ya.” Marie spoke softly. “I was sorry to hear about Harold Knox.”
Casey peered into her coffee cup and nodded. “I’d feel better if I was busy again. Boredom’s a nightmare.”
“I get that. But when it comes to concussions, there are no shortcuts to healing. You need to rest.”
“Yeah.” The whole damn world had been telling her as much. “I really am glad that you came by.” As they both stood, the room began to swoon. Black dots hovered before Casey’s eyes.
“Casey!”
A second later, she felt Marie supporting her.
“I’m okay,” Casey said. “Just dizzy. It’s this stupid heat.”
“Let’s sit you down again.”
Too weak to argue, Casey let Marie take charge. “I’ll be fine.” This was so humiliating.
“I know you will, but you aren’t right now. Your face is red and you’re sweating. I’ll get you a damp cloth.”
Casey welcomed the cool facecloth on her forehead. “Thanks.”
“Do you need painkillers?”
“Not yet.”
Marie adjusted the cloth. “I’ll have Summer look in on you. Take care.”
Casey closed her eyes, vaguely aware of the door opening and closing. Was it possible that she and Marie could be friends after all this time? They did have a lot in common—kids, the job. They also had a common enemy in Philippe Beauchamp, and he needed to be dealt with fast.
EIGHTEEN
Casey was about ready to throw the growing piles of vacation brochures onto the floor. She still couldn’t decide on the perfect honeymoon spot, and staying within budget was challenging. She and Lou had agreed not to use the money from the sale of her family home. The endless legal problems with her father’s European assets had forced Casey to spend a fair bit on lawyers these past two years. Even if the law sided with her, Casey doubted that she’d see much money in the end.
Honeymoon indecision wasn’t her only frustration; it was boredom coupled with Lou’s persistent coddling. Even when she went for short walks, Lou or Summer accompanied her. Marie had been her only visitor this week and that was three days ago. If this went on much longer, she’d lose her mind.
Her cellphone rang. Casey scooped it off the table and looked at the screen. Monica Silver. Interesting. They hadn’t talked since Casey’s visit last week.
“I’m so glad I caught you!” Monica sounded excited. “You won’t believe this, but remember me telling you about those fake Jehovah’s Witnesses?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure that one of them is teaching my granddaughters’ swim class!”
“I didn’t think you ever went to the center.”
“Sonya was called into work early today.”
“What makes you think it’s him?”
“Same height, beard, and hair. What should I do?”
Quit being paranoid was the first answer that sprang to mind. Casey wasn’t convinced that was the same man.
“Stay calm. If the instructor sees you watching him, he might get suspicious. Can he see you right now?”
“I doubt it. I’m surrounded by parents and have my sunglasses on.”
Not good enough. Monica’s tan and bleached hair were distinctive. Even if the swim instructor wasn’t part of the gang, Erin probably was, and she might have noticed Monica.
“Can anyone overhear you?” Casey asked.
“I don’t think so. I’ve got a little table behind all the parents. Lord, this is so unsettling.”
“Stay cool, Monica.”
“Easier said than done. I’m sweating buckets in this humid place. I sure wish Sonya’s boss wouldn’t change her schedule so much.”
“When does the swim class end?”
“In twenty minutes. Should I pull the girls out now?”
“No! You need to act like nothing’s wrong.”
“I can do that. God knows I’ve had plenty of practice,” she muttered. “Oh, and I was told that his first name is Garrett.”
Uh-oh. “Who told you?”
“One of the moms. I pretended to be impressed with his teaching skill.” Monica paused. “Maybe I should ask his last name at the front desk.”
“Don’t! No investigating, please.”
“Actually, I was hoping you’d say that because I need you to come down here and get a look at the guy. Maybe follow him around and see where he goes.”
Was she kidding? “No, I—”
“Please, Casey. You’re the only one who takes me seriously.”
“I’m not allowed to work without medical clearance.”
“Can’t you pop by as a friend and snap his picture or something? Although, I suppose I could do it.”
Returning to the rec center was risky, but the thought of Monica trying to handle things herself was worse. As Casey looked around the room, she could almost feel the walls closing in. Monica needed to be kept from doing something dumb. Stan and Lou wouldn’t have to know. If Monica was right about the swim instructor posing as a Jehovah’s Witness at her door, then Casey could pass the info onto Denver or the investigating officer, Novak. They’d take her more seriously than they would Monica.
“Maybe I should ask the other parents about him,” Monica said. “Find out how long he’s worked here.”
“Monica, don’t do anything, I mean it. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Bless you! You’re a good friend. The girls finish in ten minutes, but it takes forever to get them changed.”
“Are you parked in back of the building?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll meet you there, but don’t stand in front of the pool’s glass wall where you can be seen.”
“What if the instructor leaves?”
“It doesn’t matter. He’ll likely be back for the next class. Even if he’s not, the police can track him down through employee records.”
“I didn’t think of that.”
That was the worrying part. Monica wasn’t thinking. “See you soon.”
Casey grabbed her purse and sunhat and headed downstairs into the kitchen.
“I’m going to see Monica,” Casey said to Summer as she scratched Cheyenne’s head. “It’ll be a short visit.”
Summer turned away from the sink. “What’s up?”
Casey heard the all-too-familiar wariness. “She wants some company, and I’m tired of being cooped up.”
“I could go with you again.”
Enough with the babysitting. “Weren’t you planning to prepare your bedroom for painting?”
“It can wait.”
“Time’s running out, kiddo, and I’m fine, really.” This was true. No headache, wooziness, or fatigue so far today.
“Lou won’t like this.”
Casey didn’t bother to hide her exasperation. “Give me some space, okay?”
“You’re not fine.” Summer’s voice rose. “Lou said you’re still getting a lot of headaches.”
“Not as many.”
“But—”
“I don’t have time to argue.”
“Fine!” she snapped back. “If you get dizzy again and are in an accident, don’t call me!”
“I won’t.”
Casey stepped onto the porch and shut the door harder than intended. She hurried to her car and unrolled the driver’s window to let the heat escape. Mindful of her ribs and shoulder, Casey eased herself behind the wheel. Good. Hardly any pain at all.
She cruised down the lane and turned onto Commercial. It wasn’t long before her phone rang. Lou’s name appeared on the display screen. Summer’s doing? Bracing for a confrontation, she used the Bluetooth.
“I hear that you’re on your way to see Monica Silver,” Lou said. “Has something happened?”
“Kind of.” After explaining the situation
, she added, “I can’t let Monica handle this alone, and the cops won’t help her because she’s cried wolf too many times.” Casey tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Besides, I seriously doubt that the swim instructor is the suspect. Monica’s a little paranoid.”
“What if she’s not paranoid?” Lou’s voice rose. “If she really has stumbled across one of the home-invasion suspects, then you’d be walking right into a viper’s nest.”
“Not walking into it. Observing from afar.”
Lou didn’t respond right away. “Trying to get back into the action is stupid, Casey. You should know better, which tells me you’re not thinking straight. And why aren’t the wedding preparations enough for you?”
“There’s not much to do. Based on my phone conversations with your mother, she intends to stay in charge. And the task you gave me is something we should be doing together, Lou.” Anger coiled in her stomach. “What’s more, I don’t want Monica to end up like Elsie and Harold! Is that too much to ask?”
She hung up. Why couldn’t Lou give her credit for knowing how to handle herself? It was a public venue, for crying out loud.
Casey’s frustration consumed her thoughts for the entire twenty-minute drive to the rec center. The moment she pulled into the parking lot, it was forgotten. Monica and her granddaughters were waiting. Monica’s hair was pulled back in a ponytail and tied with a bright red ribbon that matched her tank top and earrings. The woman simply didn’t know how to disappear in a crowd. Monica ushered her granddaughters toward Casey. Aware that her hat and sunglasses might not keep Erin from recognizing her, Casey scanned the lot, paying particular attention to the staff entrance.
“Thank heaven you’re here,” Monica said. “Can we sit in the back?”
“Sure. If you hand me the duffel bag, I’ll put it up here.”
Monica lifted the bag over the seat, then helped the girls inside. “What’s with all the clothes, and is that a wig?”
“Yep. I do a fair bit of undercover work.” Casey let the bag drop on the passenger seat. “The disguises help.”
“If you ever need more outfits, I’ve got a ton of stuff. I used to do costumes and makeup for local theater.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Casey removed a pair of binoculars from the glove box.
“Whew, it’s hot in here,” Monica said, rolling down the window.
“Yeah, sorry. This old car doesn’t have air conditioning.”
Through the rearview mirror, Casey watched Monica remove her sunglasses and wipe her forehead. Something didn’t look right with her makeup. The eyeliner was heavier on her right eye than the left.
“Is the swim instructor still here?”
“Good question,” Monica answered. “I haven’t seen him since the girls finished class.”
It was twenty minutes to five. He might have left. Focusing the binoculars with one hand wasn’t easy, but Casey managed. There was no sign of a bearded guy at the pool.
“What was he wearing?”
“A white muscle shirt and navy swim trunks. He has great legs, by the way.”
Was this the same guy Casey saw emerging from the staff exit six days ago? She pointed the binoculars at the staff door, then scoped the rest of the building until she spotted the last person she wanted to see. Philippe Beauchamp was leaning against the corner and looking around the lot.
“Crap.”
“What’s wrong?” Monica leaned forward.
“I just saw someone I know.”
Monica peered through the windshield. “That’s the arrogant guard I told you about. What’s he doing here?”
Casey’s already warm face flushed with anger. “That’s what I’d like to know.”
“Oh no,” Monica said. “He’s heading this way.”
Philippe sauntered toward them like he had all the time in the world. When he reached Casey’s window, he said, “Aren’t you supposed to be on sick leave?”
“I’m visiting my friend. What are you doing here?”
“Just looking around.”
Bull. Was he here to meet Erin or possibly the swim instructor?
Not wanting to attract attention, Casey said, “Get in.”
Philippe strutted around the front of the car, then plunked the partially open duffel bag on the floor. As he slid in next to her, he glanced at Monica. “Don’t I know you?”
“Hardly.” Monica put her sunglasses back on. “But we have talked. At least I talked while you smirked.”
Ignoring the jab, Philippe turned to Casey. “What’s up?”
As she explained the situation, Philippe took the binoculars from her. Erin emerged from the employees’ door.
“Uh-oh.” Casey slumped down in her seat. “Erin will recognize you. Get down!”
Philippe scrunched down as best as he could. “So it was you who saw me at lunch. Stan didn’t say, but I should have guessed.”
“That’s the pretty blonde who works at the front desk,” Monica stated. “How do you two know her?”
“We can’t discuss that,” Philippe replied.
Monica leaned forward. “I’m sure I’ve seen her somewhere else. I just can’t remember where.”
Casey eased herself upright enough to get a peek. The same bearded man she’d seen having a smoke the other day also stepped outside. Erin turned to him and smiled.
“That’s the instructor, Garrett!” Monica gripped the back of both seats. “A parent told me that he’s the regular preschool instructor, but he hasn’t been teaching for long.”
The granddaughters, who’d been quiet up to this point, scrambled onto their knees and followed Monica’s gaze. Philippe also sat up.
“Is he the same man who posed as a Jehovah’s Witness?” Casey asked.
“Obviously the clothes are different and his hair does look a bit lighter, almost red in the sunlight.” Squinting, Monica leaned farther forward. “Actually, he might be a bit shorter than the man who came to my door. It’s hard to say.”
That was the problem, Casey thought. At least he wasn’t as tall and husky as the man who’d attacked her. She watched Garrett embrace Erin and then kiss her.
“A romance with the receptionist,” Monica said. “Interesting.”
Conspiracy was the word that came to Casey’s mind. The couple broke apart. Garrett returned inside while Erin marched toward a vehicle, apparently in a hurry to leave.
“Thanks for pointing him out, Monica,” Casey said. “We’ll take it from here.”
“I know you can.” Monica tossed a haughty glance at Philippe. “Come on, girls. Time to go home.”
As the threesome climbed out, Erin opened the door of a silver Honda Civic, then stopped, apparently to answer her phone. Casey couldn’t see the plate number from this angle, but the police probably had it anyway. Monica opened the door of a vehicle parked just two stalls away.
“Your friend’s a bit of a neurotic busybody,” Philippe said.
“She’s a good person who cares about people.”
Philippe tried to make room for his feet. “Mind if I move the duffel bag? My legs are cramping up.”
“Fine.”
He stepped out and slid the bag onto the backseat. “Must be laundry day.”
Casey kept her attention on Erin. “Did you know that Erin is a home-invasion suspect, and if so, why the hell were you having lunch with her?”
“I didn’t know for sure, so I decided to check her out.”
“What made you suspect Erin in the first place?”
“I got a tip that a receptionist with an Aussie accent is one of them.”
“Who gave you the tip?”
“Can’t say.”
Asshole. He’d probably eavesdropped on Stan. “What are you doing back here anyway? I can’t imagine that Stan endorsed this little spying excursion.”
“I’m monitoring the enemy. And Stan doesn’t run MPT. He doesn’t have the last word on everything.”
Shit. Had Philippe gone over Stan’s head a
nd approached Gwyn about strategy? Man, this guy was on a slippery slope. Was he lying about Erin being the enemy? Had he come here to meet a co-conspirator?
“How did you arrange lunch with Erin in the first place?”
“Simple. I flashed a wad of bills while I asked about swim lessons.” He shrugged. “Erin was practically drooling over the cash, so I figured she’d let me buy her lunch. To seal the deal, I told her I was traveling to Australia and could use some tips.”
“What did you tell her about yourself?”
“Nothing. I used a phony name and tried to keep the conversation on her. But the chick wouldn’t give up a thing.”
Or the idiot was too obvious. “She’s driving past us. Duck!”
Again, Philippe scrunched down. “We should follow her.”
“Yeah, right.” She could just imagine what Stan would say. “The police probably have her under surveillance.”
“During business hours? I doubt it.”
“They must know where she lives and works by now,” Casey replied, watching Erin turn onto the street.
“What if she’s on her way to the gang right now? This is too good an opportunity to miss.”
“It’s not our concern.” Casey expected to see disdain on Philippe’s face, but instead she saw a serious, almost thoughtful expression.
“Don’t you want payback for what happened to you?” he asked. “To give the cops info that could nail the bastards?”
“Not if it means losing my job. Don’t you want to keep yours?”
“Oh, Casey.” He gave her a disparaging look. “We both know Mainland’s a dead-end prospect. Don’t you ever think about moving on?”
“Not really. I take it that you do?”
Philippe looked out the side window. “Stan doesn’t like me much. If I’m on my way out, then it might as well be while I’m trying to do something worthwhile. Besides, a commendation from the cops will look good on my résumé.” He opened the door. “Gotta go catch the pretty lady.”
“She’s too far away.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Right.”
Philippe grinned. “Her last name’s Brightman. And, unlike you, I don’t need to rely on a cop friend for info.”
Philippe jogged toward the white Hummer at the back of the lot. God, she hadn’t even noticed that big stupid thing. Her skills were slipping. Philippe took his time turning onto the street. How on earth did he expect to find Erin, unless . . . What if he’d followed her before and already knew where she lived? Worse, what if he really was working with the gang?
Knock Knock Page 13
