Sin and Bone

by Debra Webb

  Rather than allow their attempts to get under his skin to take root, he thought of all the children who’d been injured this morning and how exhilarated he’d felt caring for them.

  He missed that part of his work. The patients. Although his accomplishments were designed to ensure a higher patient survival rate in the ER setting, he couldn’t deny missing the hands-on part of medicine. He thought of the volunteer work one of his nurses, Eva Bowman, did at a free clinic. Maybe he should consider an option such as that one.

  His thoughts drifted from helping others to self-indulgence. Touching Bella hadn’t been his plan last night. He’d reluctantly showed her what she wanted to see but then he saw her expression. She’d been affected, aroused—not repulsed as he would have imagined. Suddenly, he’d found himself lost in the smell of her, aching at the sight of her. The room was not for his pleasure and yet he’d taken great pleasure standing in the space and merely touching her.

  For that he deserved to be punished severely.

  When Corwin entered, Hodge came in right behind him. Both carried paper cups filled with steaming coffee from the corner shop. Now they were merely trying to make him angry. Let’s waste the doctor’s time while we go for coffee. Devon wasn’t falling for it. The two detectives had unquestionably been observing their prey while someone else strolled to the corner coffee shop. Another game. Nothing more.

  “We had to call out another team,” Corwin said as he sat down. “That’s a big house you’ve got, Dr. Pierce.”

  Devon said nothing in response.

  “Did you finish?” Bella demanded. “I certainly hope you left things the way you found them.”

  Hodge shrugged. “We do our best.”

  “Why are we here?” she demanded.

  Corwin sipped his coffee, then leaned back in his chair. “I know I said this before, but I swear you act more like an attorney than an ex-cop. If I hadn’t reviewed your record personally, I would have my doubts.”

  “You were a good cop,” Hodge said.

  “Are we going somewhere with this?” She looked from one to the other. “Dr. Pierce has a medical facility to oversee. A medical facility that’s an integral part of this community. I’m certain there are people far higher up the food chain than the two of you who understand the importance of his work.”

  The two shared a look of feigned disbelief. “I guess we better get on with it,” Corwin said.

  “Yeah,” Hodge agreed. “We wouldn’t want the mayor or anyone important giving us any grief.”

  “You know,” Corwin added, speaking to Bella, “you’re only in here because the doctor insisted.”

  “Perhaps you’d rather deal with my attorney,” Devon suggested.

  Corwin shut his mouth on the subject. Still, he had that look. The one that said they had something. Whatever they had found, it was significant. The two were far too cocky to believe otherwise. Devon knew Bella had the journal, not that he was happy about her taking it out of his house. As it turned out, the move was a smart one. Anything else the police could have found was no doubt planted.

  Bella was right about something else as well. He had a traitor on his staff. There was no way around that conclusion.

  “First,” Corwin began, “we found blood in the pocket of one of your suit jackets.”

  Hell. The journal page. Some of the blood on it must have still been transferable.

  “You’re aware we opened the trunk and found the blood,” Devon offered.

  “So you touched the blood?” Corwin argued.

  “He’s a doctor,” Bella put in. “A physician’s instinct would be to check to see where the blood was coming from and whether or not it was still warm and pliable.”

  Devon resisted the urge to stare at her. She hadn’t lied, exactly, but she’d skirted all around it.

  Corwin nodded. “You see, Hodge. I told you he’d have an explanation for why the blood was in his pocket.”

  Hodge bobbed his head up and down. “He’s smart. I’ll give him that.”

  “Gentlemen,” Bella said, interrupting their back-and-forth, “why don’t we move on to why you asked Dr. Pierce here? Just this morning, there was a terrible bus crash on the expressway. I’m sure you heard about it. The Edge was inundated with the victims of that crash. Dr. Pierce doesn’t have time for guessing games.”

  Bravo. Devon resisted the urge to smile.

  “We found this.” Corwin nodded and Hodge placed a large envelope on the table. Corwin removed the items inside. A woman’s purse. A prescription bottle. A hairbrush sporting several blond hairs. And, finally, a strip of three photos—the kind from one of those photo booths one might see in a mall. All carefully packaged in clear plastic bags and labeled as evidence.

  Devon didn’t have to pick up the prescription bottle to know to whom it belonged. Images of Audrey Maynard stared at him from the photo strip.

  “Audrey Maynard has never been in my home.” Devon looked from Hodge to Corwin. “Until she showed up at the ER, I had never heard her name or met her.”

  “You’re sticking by your story that this is a setup,” Corwin offered, skepticism heavy in his tone.

  “Detective,” Bella countered, “do you really have to ask? Considering I was once a cop, you must know that I was well aware you would be coming with a warrant. Dr. Pierce and I had more than ample time to ensure nothing incriminating or inflammatory would be found at his home. Why would he leave a crucial piece of evidence for you to find? This entire situation is swiftly turning into a circus.”

  Corwin stared directly at Devon. “If you’re being framed, Dr. Pierce, help us understand who would do such a thing. We’re operating in the dark beyond what evidence you see and all of it points to you. If you’re innocent, then give us a different direction to go in.”

  “We have no choice but to follow the evidence,” Hodge reminded Bella. “Any cop knows that.”

  “Jack Hayman,” Devon said, ignoring Bella’s glance when he supplied the name. “He was my partner for several years. We parted under less-than-amicable terms. I can think of no one else who would go to these extents.”

  “What about a former patient?” Corwin asked. “Haven’t you ever lost a patient or left one unsatisfied?”

  “I’ve never left a patient unsatisfied, Detective.” Devon reined in his frustration. “The only patient I’ve ever lost—”

  “Was your wife,” Corwin said for him. “Does your late wife have any family members who might feel you were responsible for her death? A brother? Father? Anyone?”

  “Father, mother, a brother and two sisters,” Devon said. “They still invite me to holiday gatherings. I doubt one of them has suddenly decided I did something wrong and somehow contributed to Cara’s death.”

  Bella stared at him in surprise but she quickly recovered. “Is there anything else?” she asked the detectives. “If not, I see no reason for Dr. Pierce to be detained further. He has answered your questions and has nothing further to add.”

  “Maynard’s mother confirmed her daughter was at home on several occasions the past few weeks, so her accusations against you do appear to be unfounded. But we’re far from done with this, Dr. Pierce.” Corwin stood. “We’re turning this city upside down looking for Maynard. If we can find her alive, maybe she can shed some light on what’s really going on. Meanwhile, we’ll look up this Jack Hayman character, your former partner.”

  “Thank you.” Devon glanced at the items on the table as he followed Bella from the room.

  The likelihood that Maynard was still alive grew slimmer every day that she remained missing. It wasn’t necessary to be a cop to recognize that sad statistic. The person who had planned this elaborate game had taken great care to perfectly cover all possibilities.

  But perfection was an unattainable goal. There would be a mistake somewhere. All Devon had to do was find it.


  They were in the car before Bella spoke. “You never mentioned that her family still contacts you.”

  “You didn’t ask.” He fastened his seat belt. “I didn’t see how that information was relevant.”

  She eased the car into traffic. “As long as you’re certain they’re not holding you accountable for her death, then it’s not.”

  “I’m certain.”

  “Why did you give them Hayman’s name when it’s more likely Sutter they should be trying to find?”

  “Because I want to speak to Sutter first. I’m counting on you to recognize if he’s lying.”

  She met his gaze for a second. “Where can we find him?”

  “We’ll start with his wife.”

  Mariah Sutter always seemed to have a soft spot for Devon, at least until Cara died. She distanced herself from him afterward. She could very well refuse to speak to him at all. He supposed it would depend upon how angry she was with Richard today. The two had a volatile relationship.

  Perhaps if he told her that he suspected Richard of having an affair with Cara she would spill her guts. But then she would tell the police when they inevitably interviewed her.

  Then they would have a motive that, to their way of thinking, had been festering for years.

  Clark Street, 4:00 p.m.

  SHOEHORNED BETWEEN FORMER industrial landmarks that were now stunning homes, the Sutter residence was a sleek Asian-inspired showplace. The outdoors was beautifully incorporated into the indoor living space, complete with a rooftop deck and unparalleled views of the city’s skyline.

  Bella decided that despite Sutter’s failed partnership with Pierce, the man had done exceedingly well financially. The house alone had to be worth north of twelve million. She could only imagine the value of the artwork and the furnishings.

  Why would a man with all this to lose risk carrying out a plot like the one plaguing Pierce? Was revenge for a professional and perhaps personal grievance several years in the past really worth such an enormous sacrifice?

  Mariah Sutter breezed into the expansive entertaining area in a floor-length gauzy white covering that gave her an air of floating. The sheer fabric did little to conceal a minuscule gold bathing suit beneath. Sutter was fifty but her body looked like that of a twenty-year-old.

  “Devon!” She held her hands out to him as she approached. “What a delight to see you.”

  He took her hands, leaned in and kissed her cheek. “The pleasure is always mine.”

  The older woman looked to Bella. “And who is this?” She beamed a smile at Devon. “Have you finally decided to stop living like a hermit?”

  Bella blushed. She hated the reaction but she’d been cursed with the response since she was a child.

  “Mariah Sutter, this is Isabella Lytle, my associate. We’re working on a new project.” He smiled at Bella and her blush deepened.

  “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Sutter.”

  “Hmm. She’s far too attractive for a mere associate. And so polite.” Mariah sighed. “Please sit down and visit for a while. It’s been ages. Would you like a refreshment?”

  “Water would be nice,” Bella said when Mariah’s gaze rested on her.

  “The same for me.”

  The words had no more been uttered than a man wearing only a tight-fitting swimsuit walked in carrying a tray of glasses filled with ice water and decorated with wedges of lime.

  When they had been served, he left the room, his gaze lingering on Mariah as he walked away.

  “The proverbial pool boy,” she said with a laugh. “I do adore surrounding myself with attractive humans.”

  “Mariah,” Devon said, “I would like a meeting with Richard. Is he in town?”

  “He’s in Wimbledon. He has a niece who’s playing. He wanted me to go but, frankly, I can’t tolerate the girl’s mother. She is such a pretentious bitch.”

  “How long has he been in the London area?”

  Bella let Devon handle the questions this time. Anything she asked would no doubt be viewed as suspicious.

  Mariah appeared to consider the question. “A week now, I think. He won’t return for another two. I’m sure he’ll pop over to Wentworth for a few rounds of golf. You know Richard—he likes to take advantage of every opportunity to put something in a hole.”

  Bella felt another blush climbing her throat.

  Mariah laughed. “I do believe I’ve embarrassed your associate, Devon.”

  Bella smiled. “Not at all. Are you a golfer as well?”

  “Good heavens, no. I prefer shopping.” Her gaze lingered on Bella. “For all sorts of beautiful things.”

  Bella had the distinct impression the older woman was flirting with her.

  “If you would,” Devon said, drawing Mariah’s attention to him, “let Richard know I need a conference call. Nothing too time-consuming. Only a few minutes of his time.”

  “I hope he hasn’t filed another of those ridiculous lawsuits.” She rolled her eyes. “The man is admittedly a very bad sport. I say let bygones be bygones. I never liked losing a good friend over something as trivial as money.”

  “I noticed the Lexus in your courtyard,” Bella said. “I’ve considered trying one. Have you been pleased with yours?”

  “I have no complaints. Really, transportation is Richard’s department. He brings them home and I drive them.”

  “I suppose the dealership has a good service department.” Bella watched the other woman closely as she waited for an answer.

  “We have someone who picks the vehicles up when they need servicing. They always bring a replacement. Like clockwork.”

  Bella made a decision. She reached for her cell and pulled up the picture of Audrey Maynard. “Have you ever met this woman?”

  Mariah reached for a pair of cheaters on the table next to her chair. She slipped on the narrow gold frames and peered at the photo.

  “Oh yes. I think she’s one of Richard’s assistants. Or at least, that’s what he called her. My guess is she was one of his flings. He does so love the young things.” Mariah frowned and then looked to Devon. “I never noticed how much she looks like Cara.” She turned back to Bella. “Why do you ask? Is she involved with something my husband should know about?”

  “She may be,” Devon said. “She’s missing and the police are searching for her.”

  “The police? Whatever for?”

  “A number of charges,” Bella said before he could. “It’s imperative we find her.”

  “When I can get in touch with Richard, I’ll let him know.”

  “Mariah, has Richard spoken recently about seeking revenge against me? As much as I appreciate your graciousness today, we both know Richard despises me.”

  “You think Richard has something to do with whatever she’s doing.”

  “I think someone is trying to make me believe that,” he allowed. “If that’s the case, Richard may be vulnerable as well.”

  “I wish I could say Richard would never do such a thing, but I can’t.” Mariah shook her head. “He isn’t the same since the two of you ended your partnership. The cancer only made him more bitter. I don’t know him anymore, and in truth, I spend as little time with him as possible.”

  Devon thanked her for her time and she walked them to the door. Outside, the sound of the infinity pool trickling over its edge accompanied them to the street. Bella walked around her car, checking the tires and the hood. She looked underneath for any leaked fluids.

  When they were in the car and driving away, he asked, “You’re concerned that someone might be following us?”

  “If no one is following us, then the person framing you is a fool, and we both know that’s not the case.” She hadn’t spotted a tail but she had that feeling, that hair-raising prickle that warned something was off.

  “We should visit your house manager
.” Bella merged into traffic.

  “If she’s home. She took the week off. She may be visiting her sister in Rockford.”

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and she’s relaxing at home.”

  Mapleton Avenue, Oak Park, 6:20 p.m.

  THE USUAL FORTY-FIVE-MINUTE drive to the Oak Park neighborhood took well over an hour in evening rush-hour traffic. On the way, Bella questioned him about Mariah. Did she seem her usual self? Did anything she said set off warning bells? Did she and Richard have an open marriage?

  Mariah had seemed the same as always. Lighthearted, friendly, open. Devon had suspected that Richard and Mariah had affairs whenever they chose. But they were always discreet. The only part that had set off warning bells was the one lie he knew for a certainty that she had told him. She had said that Richard was in Wimbledon for the tournament and that was wrong. This year, the games didn’t begin until the end of the month. It was possible Richard had told her this lie, assuming she wouldn’t bother to verify it, allowing her to believe he would be out of the country to cover his activities.

  “Victoria has a contact who can determine whether Richard left the country,” Bella said, “assuming he used his own passport. It will take some time, but we can verify that aspect of what his wife said.”

  “I will be deeply indebted to Victoria for her help.” There were few people he trusted as much as he did Victoria Colby-Camp.

  “Apparently Richard’s financial losses weren’t as significant after your partnership dissolved as I assumed.”

  She spared him a glance as she parked in front of the small home of Devon’s house manager, Mrs. Harper. Devon released his seat belt and reached for the door. “I’m confident he considered slipping from a billionaire to a mere millionaire quite tragic.”

  Bella laughed. He liked the sound of it. “I guess so.”

  Mrs. Harper’s home was a classic early-twentieth-century Craftsman wrapped in tan stucco. The windows and trim were highlighted by green and terra-cotta. The lawn was neat and the flowerpots on the front steps overflowed with blooms.