by Girard, Dara
“You’re custom bonded?”
She nodded, setting her cup down. “Yes, I have about twenty to thirty clients.”
“Did any of your clients claim extravagant loss?”
“If you are suggesting someone burned down the warehouse for insurance purposes I think you’re mistaken.”
He shrugged. “It’s possible.”
“All my clients make their income through legitimate routes.”
“What about employees?”
She crossed her legs and rested a hand on the table. “What about them? I have loyal, hardworking employees. They are family and friends of long standing. I select the best.”
“So you haven’t fired anyone recently?”
“No. I did my own questioning and no one saw anything suspicious that night. There was the regular activity of transferring merchandise in and out, nothing more.”
“We’d still like to get a list of people working there.”
She paused a beat then said, “Fine.”
“You’re very successful in your business. Especially for--”
She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow “A woman?”
“No, the kind of business you do. I didn’t realize it was so lucrative.”
“It can be, if you run it well, and I’m good at business.”
“Perhaps there is someone who could be jealous of your success?”
“No, I am well liked.”
He wondered about that. Perhaps elsewhere she pretended to have a pulse. “Do any of your employees use two way radios?”
“No.”
“Do you warehouse hazardous material?”
“Maybe a few drums of insecticide.”
“Chemicals, oil, gasoline...” he suggested.
“No.”
“Fertilizer, kerosene...”
“No.”
“You’re positive?”
Her eyes flashed with annoyance. “Is the word no a foreign term to you?”
He grinned. “Only when it sounds like a yes. So you know everything that is stored in the warehouse?”
“It is my business to know.”
“Do you know how acetone is used?”
“No.”
“So you’re not aware that it could be used to process cocaine?”
Her face lit up with interest. “How?”
Grant left the interrogation room soon after. Melinda and Robert looked at him expectantly. Melinda spoke first. “Find out anything?”
“Yes, I thought island women were supposed to be hot. That woman could freeze a man’s dick off.”
“Anything about the case?” Melinda asked exasperated.
“Her eyes lit up when I said you could use acetone to process cocaine. She’s either clever or naive. She said she didn’t know anything about hazardous materials.”
“But there were jugs full in her warehouse,” Robert said.
“I think she’s lying,” Melinda said.
Grant shoved his hands in his pockets. “I don’t.”
Robert folded his arms. “If she’s not lying that means she didn’t know.”
“Right, so then the question is, who benefited?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Victoria sat in the kitchen with Dana, Janet, and Robert holding her week’s salary in amazement.
“You can hold it to the light to make sure it’s real,” Robert said.
She ignored him, counting the money again. “What are you planning to buy?” he asked her. She glanced up at him. “I want to buy a headstone.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You’re thinking of killing someone?”
She kept her gaze steady. “Only in passing. I need to buy a little headstone for a dog.”
“You’ve been talking to Amanda about Bailey. His personal publicist. I’m surprised she hasn’t created T-shirts with his photograph on it.” He rested back and clasped his hands behind his head. “Has she drowned you with tales about that beloved dog?”
“She told me that he was your favorite,” she said carefully.
“And so he was,” he said nonchalant. “But now he’s dead.”
“Right, and you have Benjamin, but you ignore him.”
He let his hands fall and briefly looked away uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading. “I’m a busy man.”
“Too bad dogs don’t understand such excuses. Unless of course you sat him down and told him about your life and work. He just thinks you don’t care.”
He met her eyes. “He has everything he needs.”
“Except his best friend.”
His jaw tightened. “His best friend is dead.”
“I was talking about you,” she said in a soft tone.
“I told you. I’m busy.”
“You weren’t too busy for Bailey. You scheduled to take him on trips and had him in your study. He was your constant companion.”
Robert stared down at the counter: “And he’s dead,” he said in a rough voice.
“But Benjamin’s alive. Don’t punish him because you had to put Bailey to sleep. You’re being cruel and cold, although that is not unusual, that won’t bring Bailey back.”
He pounded his fist on the counter and glared at her with such vehemence her throat closed. “You don’t know anything about Bailey or me.” He stormed out.
“Why must you push him so?” Janet asked, watching the kitchen door swing in and out. “You are going above your station.”
“But I’m right,” she said. Her words, though, sounded shallow and mean. She hadn’t meant to push him. He had looked at her with those intense unreadable eyes and she’d assumed he’d felt nothing. He was an easy target, almost daring her to fling an arrow at him and hit the bull’s eye. He had every right to fire her and most likely would. Who was she to tell him how to live his life? Who was she to casually bring up old wounds and tell him how to heal them? Why had she felt the need to bring him to anger? She had always used her words as a shield or a weapon, but for the first time they brought her shame.
“I didn’t mean to push him,” she said.
“You’d better save that money,” Dana said. “I won’t be surprised if he gives you the ax.”
Victoria wasn’t quite sure of the words, but understood their meaning.
“I’m sure if she apologizes everything will be fine,” Janet said.
“I only thought he should give Benjamin away if he doesn’t want him.”
“That’s the problem with you. You have too many thoughts and have a terrible habit of sharing them. You must learn not to.”
“Men don’t like women with too many opinions anyway,” Dana added.
“You mustn’t--”
The three women grew quiet when Robert returned to the kitchen.
He walked up to Victoria and handed her a picture. “That’s Benjamin when he first arrived.”
She stared down at a picture of a pathetic dog that probably hadn’t had a good meal in weeks, his ribs were showing, and his coat was dull and probably infested with fleas. She looked up at him. His eyes were filled with hurt more than anger.
“I took care of him,” he said. “He was sick and I made sure that he received the best care. I have the bills to prove it. I bought whatever medications he needed, made sure he was well looked after until he became healthy. And all the while Bailey was getting sicker and sicker and there was nothing I could do.” He took the picture and stuck it in his shirt pocket “As you can see, Ben’s still healthy and I continue to make sure that he’s taken care of. He has toys to play with and plenty of space to run. So no matter how disappointing it is to you, I’m not a complete monster.”
Shame made her eyes moist. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“Good.” He sighed as if a giant burden had been lifted. “We will leave in ten minutes.”
“We?”
“Yes. I’ll help you find this little headstone of yours.”
She touched his sleeve before he could turn. “If you are going to fire me, do it here. You
don’t need to take me away and say it.”
“I am not going to fire you.” He shoved his hands in his pocket and offered the shadow of a smile. “I’ve been forewarned about Spenser pride. Fortunately, it’s tempered by sympathy.”
She bit her lower lip and let her lids slip over her eyes. “Then why do you want to take me into town?”
“Braxton vanity. I want to make sure you don’t create a monument on my land.”
“You really don’t have to go through the trouble,” Janet said “I could take her later.”
“It’s no trouble,” he said in a manner that closed the issue from discussion. “Go and get changed and I’ll pick you up at your house.” He turned and left.
The women stood silent.
Dana was the first to speak. “It’s getting really eerie the way he hangs around in the kitchen.”
“It’s his kitchen,” Janet said.
Dana turned to Victoria who was chewing her lower lip. “Are you really going to have a burial for Bailey?”
“Yes, Saturday morning,” she said absently, still remembering the hurt in his eyes and the forgiveness that later replaced it. “It was Amanda’s idea.”
“It would be,” Janet muttered.
“Bailey deserves it,” Dana said. “He was a good dog. Perhaps I could make something special.”
“Nothing fancy. It’s just a dog.”
“Anytime is a good time to celebrate with food,” Victoria said.
She frowned at her. “Why are you still hanging round here? Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
Victoria reluctantly walked to the door. “I wish you could take me.”
“Wishing is for wells. Get moving.”
* * *
Victoria raced to the carriage house, jumped into a pair of jeans and changed into three different tops then remembered it was just Mr. Braxton and chose a purple blouse. She was down the stairs by the time the doorbell rang.
Robert blinked at her when she answered the door. “That was fast. I expected to wait. Did you fly here?”
She closed the door behind her. “A woman has a right to her secrets.”
“True.”
She followed him to his car then stopped. “What kind of thing is that?” She knew he owned three cars, but never expected one to look like this.
“That’s an SUV,” he said, insulted.
No, it was a black metal monster with huge tires, chrome trim and massive doors.
“Good Lord,” she whispered when he opened the door. She looked up into the gray interior and deep leather seats. She glanced around to find something to stand on so that she could get in without looking silly. When she didn’t find anything, she grabbed the door and tried to push herself off the sideboard. She wouldn’t have made it if Robert hadn’t gabbed her waist and given her the extra boost. She sat down hard on the seat and shook her head. “Big garden, big house, big car. You like everything big, don’t you?”
“I’m beginning to.” He winked and closed the door.
* * *
The drive into town was shorter than she’d expected The town of Maron was peppered with family named restaurants, boutiques and assorted specialty shops. Robert drove into Harlans’ nursery.
“Need help getting out?” he asked after he had parked.
“No.” She pushed open the heavy door and jumped down from her seat. She stared at the overflowing variation of garden ware and plants.
Robert began to go inside when a woman dressed in a Harlan apron blocked their path. She sported a toothy grin and dyed hair as yellow as a hot butter. “Well, Robert, we haven’t seen you here in a while.” She looked at Victoria. “ And who’s this? Aren’t we pretty?” She looked up at the sky. “Wow! It’s a great day for planting, isn’t it? So what are you planning to do? Do you have a special project? Is there anything I can help you with?”
He took Victoria’s arm and led her away. “No, I’m just looking, thanks.”
“Why didn’t you tell her what we were looking for?” Victoria asked, trying to keep up with his quick pace.
“Because starting a conversation with that woman is always a mistake if you plan on leaving before tomorrow.”
“She seemed nice enough. Very interesting.”
“It wears off after a couple hours, trust me.”
He led her to the garden statues where there was a large selection of gnomes, posing cupids, and dolphins in flight. Victoria saw him heading towards a troll.
“Don’t even smell it,” she warned.
Robert raised a brow, but turned away. He picked up a stone instead. “Here we are.”
She folded her arms. “What is that?”
“What does it look like?”
“It looks like a rock. I can’t go from a twig to a rock.”
“We can put his name on it and it becomes a headstone. Notice the word stone.” He waved the object.
“It doesn’t look dignified.”
“What are you looking for?” he asked dryly. “A marble slab with gold etchings?”
“No.” She glanced around and found a long slab with a glazed surface. She pointed. “Something like this.”
He shook his head incredulous. “You’re willing to spend your entire salary on a dog?”
“No, of course not.”
He covered his mouth to hide a grin. “Look at the price.”
“I’m sure it can’t be that much.” She looked at the price and cringed. “Oh.”
“Exactly.” She looked so disheartened; he softened. “Okay, we’ll split the cost.” At her horrified expression he hastily added, “ I mean you’ll pay one third.”
Even one third would be more than she’d be able to spend. “It was a silly idea. We’ll go with your rock.”
He put the stone down and picked up the slab. “It was a nice idea. Since Bailey was my dog I should pay for it.”
“But--”
He rested a brotherly arm around her shoulders. “Let’s argue after I’ve paid for it, all right?”
“I know I’ll win,” she said, debating whether to pull away or move closer.
Robert gave the slab to an etchist on the premises. The man sat in a little booth with samples of his work surrounding him.
“What would you like it to say?” the man asked, blinking at them through large glasses that magnified his hazel eyes.
Robert looked at Victoria. “You’re the funeral director.”
“Don’t be facety.” She looked at the etchist. “Bailey Braxton.” She frowned at Robert. “What were his years?”
“1985-2003.”
“Put that too.”
“Is this for a dog?”
Robert folded his arms. “No, it’s for a goldfish that lived very long.”
Victoria kicked him. “Yes, it’s for a dog.” .
The man gave a low whistle. “Wow he lived a long time. Probably about half the time you were married, right? Who owned him first?”
“We’re not—”
Robert covered her mouth. “I did. Bailey was my dog.”
“Sorry for your loss. It will take me about an hour to finish.”
Victoria moved his hand from her mouth. “But we’re not—”
He covered it again and ushered her away. “Okay, we’ll come back,” he said over his shoulder.
Victoria nudged him and he released her. “Why did you make him think we were married?” she asked once the man was out of hearing.
“Because being engaged didn’t sound as exciting.”
She opened her mouth to respond, then decided there was no reply to such logic. She roamed around the shop instead.
She saw a row of red pansies. “Those would be lovely towards the east of the house next to the daylilies.”
“Speaking of gardens...”
She knelt down and picked up a pot. “Were we?”
“Yes. I’ve heard you’ve been helping Foster with the garden.”
She glanced up guilty. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Which is why you asked me first,” he said with sarcasm. “You were so eager to hear my opinion on the issue.”
“Mr. Braxton, I—”
“Forget it. If I had minded you would have known by now. Besides, Foster could use your help. I want to win the garden contest not only because I hate losing, but if we win, it will be great exposure.”
She stood. “Exposure for what?”
“Many of my garden workers have had to deal with various addictions and it is my personal theory that gardening heals the spirit. Winning a national competition will give credit to this theory and would be fantastic for me and for them. Especially Foster. It would do him good to receive acknowledgment for his achievements.”
“But the garden looks lovely as it is.”
“Ah, but nothing speaks like success.”
“He has a lot of great ideas.”
“Yes.” Robert suddenly turned. “Let’s go to lunch, I’m hungry.”
Victoria looked at the SUV with a dubious expression.
He looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Don’t worry. We can walk there.”
* * *
They stopped at a little restaurant called Tina’s Big Grill, walking into the subdued murmur of voices and clink of silverware. They sat in a booth covered in pink vinyl located against the wall.
“The desserts here are great,” Robert said, pushing away the menu. “Would you like a banana split?”
“No, I like mine whole.”
He laughed. “No, not a real banana. I mean it is a real banana cut in half but— never mind, let me order it for you. You’re in for a treat.”
When the dessert arrived, Victoria stared stunned by the sheer size of it. Scoops of chocolate, vanilla and strawberry ice cream sandwiched between a banana that had been halved, piled high with whipped cream, nuts and cherries. She stared at it for so long, the ice cream began to melt and drip onto the table.
Robert reached over and shook her shoulder. “You’re supposed to eat it.”
“It’s so beautiful.”
He picked up her spoon. “It also tastes good.”
“Could you eat all this?”
“Sure.” He dragged the bowl towards him. “Want me to show you?”
