by Irene Hannon
“Us?”
Whoops.
“Um . . . the County detective who’s been assigned to help with the case went with me. It’s never a bad idea to have two heads processing info during an interview.”
“Especially when one of those heads is handsome.”
The very thing Florence had said.
“It was strictly business, Mom.” She fumbled the container of paper napkins, and several wafted to the floor before she could grab them.
Her mother watched her, eyes assessing, as she scrambled to collect the wayward squares.
Time for a change of topic.
“What’s new with Sherry?”
“I talked to her a little while ago. For their tenth anniversary, they’re going back to the hotel on Maui where they spent their honeymoon. Isn’t that romantic?”
So much for a change of topic.
“Yeah. How are the kids?”
Her second diversionary attempt worked. Once her mother got started on the subject of her grandchildren, everything else faded into the background.
But later, as Lisa was collecting her things to leave, her mom circled back to the original subject.
“When will you be seeing that detective again?”
“I don’t know.” She searched through her purse for her keys. “He’s busy with his own cases.”
“Not too busy to make time for you, I bet.”
She was out of here.
“He’s assigned to help me. It’s part of his job.” She grabbed the doorknob.
Her mother folded her arms and propped a shoulder against the wall. “I thought you preferred to handle investigations on your own?”
She would remember that.
“I prefer to be in charge of investigations. There’s a difference. I don’t have to worry about turf battles with Mac, like I did with some of my colleagues in Chicago.”
“Hmm.”
She wasn’t about to ask for clarification of that ambiguous comment.
Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she opened the door. “Thanks again for dinner, Mom. I’ll call you later in the week.”
“I’ll look forward to it. I’m following this case with great interest.”
I’ll just bet.
After dispensing a quick hug and kiss, Lisa stepped into the heat and walked toward her car.
Sheesh.
Her mother was as tenacious as Tally trying to sniff out the latest hiding place of those fancy treats Mac had bought for him.
In general, her pooch was successful.
But her mom wouldn’t be. No way was she going to admit to any interest in Mac. Too many things could go wrong, despite the mutual attraction. Better to wait until they had a date or two under their belts before she got her mom’s hopes up.
Besides, hers were high enough for both of them.
Still, anxious as she was to move into personal territory with Mac, until she solved this case, those hopes had to be put on hold.
They were getting close, though. She could sense it. Something big was about to break.
And she had a feeling Jessica Lee was going to be right in the middle of it.
Answer the phone, Joe!
Daily glass of chardonnay in hand, the prepaid phone she’d purchased on her way home from the office pressed to her ear, Jessica paced the length of her living room. Turned. Paced back again. He should be home from work by now. His wasn’t the sort of job that—
“Hello.”
As the voice from the past came over the line, she stopped. He sounded exactly as he had twenty-four years ago.
“Joe, it’s Jessica.”
“I figured I’d hear from you. Erika called to tell me what was going on.”
Jessica took a tiny sip of wine. “Not with any specifics, I hope.”
“No. I’m fine, by the way. Thanks for asking. How are you?”
Her mouth tightened. “This isn’t a social call.”
“I didn’t think it was. Sorry to waste your time with a touch of humanity.”
She ignored that.
“There’s been a new development. I had a visit from the same people who stopped at Erika’s. It appears a ring was instrumental in the ID.”
Several seconds of silence ticked by.
“That’s impossible.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation in his response.
Jessica crossed to the sliding door that overlooked the terrace. Muted orange and rose hues still tinted the western horizon, but the sky overhead was black. “Then why would they mention it?”
“I haven’t a clue. Could it be a red herring? A bluff?”
“Maybe. But if the ring didn’t tip them off to the ID, what did?”
Several more beats passed.
“I’m drawing a blank. We were very . . . thorough.”
“Erika didn’t have any involvement with the ring, did she?”
“No. But speaking of Erika . . . she’s seriously worried.”
“There’s no need to be. As long as we stick to our story, we’re fine. That detective in Columbia was tenacious, and he came up with nothing. These people won’t, either. Panic is our biggest enemy, and we can control that. You haven’t been contacted by anyone, have you?”
“No.”
“Okay. Let’s hang tight and see what happens next. This could all blow over. Just because they made an ID doesn’t mean they’ll find anything else.”
“I’m not the one you need to reassure. Erika’s a basket case. She’s called me twice.”
Anger bubbled up inside her. “You two shouldn’t be talking.”
“She doesn’t have anyone else—and she’s had some tough breaks.”
“All of which she brought on herself.”
He blew out a breath. “Nothing changes with you, does it? You always were a . . .”
She angled the phone away from her ear, the final word only a faint echo. Charles had called her that too, shortly before he’d died—with equal disgust.
But she didn’t deserve their disdain.
Some men just couldn’t deal with strong women.
“I didn’t call you up to be insulted. Whatever you think of me, I saved our butts twenty-four years ago. Don’t ever forget that.”
“I’m not sure you did us any favors.” Resignation deadened his words.
“Is it my fault you two made bad choices afterward?”
“Is it?”
Of all the idiotic questions.
“Look, people are responsible for their own actions. You can let bad stuff defeat you, or you can conquer it and move on. I chose to conquer.” She took another swig of wine. “If anything else comes up, I’ll call you. If you need to reach me, use this cell.” She recited the number for the non-traceable phone she’d activated two hours ago. “And if Erika calls, I’d suggest you confine your discussion to the weather.”
“Yes, sir.”
Jerk.
“Good night, Joe.”
Without waiting for him to reply, she ended the call with a jab of her finger. Erika’s mild-mannered former boyfriend might have allowed his intellect to dull through the years in that eye-glazing nine-to-five job of his, but his tongue had certainly sharpened.
She took a long sip of wine and tapped in Erika’s number.
The other woman answered on the third ring, her voice tentative.
“It’s Jessica.”
“This isn’t your number.”
“It is now.” A few calls to her college friends she could explain. But there might end up being more than a few . . . and she didn’t intend to leave phone records for the cops to find in case they checked. “Use this number—and only this number—if you need to call me. Write it down so you don’t forget it.”
“What did your . . . visitors today say? And why did you wait so long to call me?”
“I have more on my plate than this, Erika.” She turned her back on the sky, which had gone completely dark. “They suggested
they’d made the ID from the ring.”
“What! That can’t be. You . . . we . . . Joe got rid of it.”
If Erika was faking shock, she was doing a great acting job—and she’d always been a lousy actress. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have taken a whole weekend to coach her in words, body language, and facial expressions all those years ago.
Meaning she hadn’t messed anything up with the ring—and Joe had disposed of it, as planned.
This was weird.
How had the police IDed the bones?
“Jess?”
“I don’t have an explanation—but no matter how they figured out it was her, the fact is, there’s no connection to us. We need to stay cool and let this play out—and fade out. Which it will, as long as we keep doing what we’ve been doing. I talked to Joe, and he’s on board too. Are you staying off the booze?”
“Yes. That’s the smart thing to do, and I’m not stupid.”
She did sound coherent. That was good—but the edge in her voice wasn’t. They all needed to remain calm. Panicked people made mistakes.
“I know that, Erika. Hang in, and we’ll get through this.”
Silence.
“Erika?”
“Yeah. I’m here. Look . . . I need to talk to you about something.”
Jessica rolled her eyes and took another sip of wine. Sounded like a hand-holding session was in the offing. “Fine. I’m listening.” She sat in the closest chair.
“No. Not on the phone. In person.”
Oh, for pity’s sake.
“Erika, I’m busy. I don’t have time to socialize.”
“This isn’t a social visit.”
“Then what is it?”
“Just meet me, okay? It’s important.”
What on earth was the woman up to?
“I don’t think it’s smart for us to be seen together right now.”
“We could meet at the mall, like we did before. It’s crowded there. No one will notice us. And considering how shorthanded most police departments are these days, it’s not like they’re going to be watching us 24/7. Unless you’re more worried about all this than you’re letting on.”
Jessica squinted into the dregs of her chardonnay. When was the last time Erika had sounded so lucid—and analytical?
Maybe never.
She’d even called her bluff.
That, too, was a first.
Nor could she dispute the comment about the police. The chances they were under surveillance were slim to none.
“Fine.” If a quick meeting kept her happy—and in line—she could spare forty-five minutes. “When?”
“Tomorrow afternoon?”
“I have a busy schedule tomorrow. What about Friday?”
“Does six work?”
“Yes. I’ll see you then at the same Starbucks.”
“Okay. Good night.”
The line went dead.
Huh.
Erika had hung up first.
Another anomaly.
Jessica set the phone on the table beside her and drained the last of her wine.
What could Erika want to talk about?
She leaned back, twirling the slender stem of the goblet, drawing a blank. Who knew how the woman thought? At least she was sober. That was a plus.
All they had to do was chill and everything would be fine.
Jessica stood, wandered into the kitchen to set the empty glass beside the sink—and tried to ignore the sudden prickle of unease that slithered down her spine.
Now what was that all about?
She’d told Erika and Joe the truth. There wasn’t anything to worry about. There had been nothing to tie the three of them to Alena twenty-four years ago, and there was even less now. However the police had IDed those bones was unrelated to them.
Nevertheless, a snake of fear coiled in the pit of her stomach.
And for the first time in her adult life, a tremor rippled through her carefully controlled world.
“Here’s that equipment list you wanted.” Florence followed Lisa into her office and put several clipped pages in her in-box. “I asked my contact to email it, but I don’t think she wanted an electronic trace. Like the list of standard patrol officer equipment in their municipality is top secret.”
Lisa leaned down to pat Tally, who trotted over to greet her as she circled her desk and sat.
“Were you watching for me?” Lisa turned her attention to the office manager.
“I caught a glimpse of you as you turned the corner in the hall. I was restocking the supply cabinet. Speaking of which . . .” She set a battery on the desk. “You need to change the one in your phone. I charged this for you.”
Lisa pulled her cell off her belt. Dead again—sometime in the past twenty minutes. It had been working fine when Craig had called to report on his interview with a suspect in his first solo detective case. She’d juiced it up before she left for her meeting, but the thing wasn’t holding a charge anymore.
“Thanks for reminding me.” She pried off the back and reached for the replacement battery.
“How did the mayor react to your neighborhood watch proposal?”
“Very favorably. He’s going to bring the idea up at the next city council meeting. He was especially receptive to the notion that volunteer assistance like this can help reduce the need for additional officers and keep the police department budget under control.”
“I’ll bet he was . . . more so with elections looming. You plan to be in the office this afternoon?”
“Unless some crisis comes up.” As the new battery slipped in, the phone began to vibrate in her hand. “Guess I missed a few messages.”
“I’ll let you attend to them, then.”
On her way out, Florence bent to give Tally a quick pat as he trotted toward his corner.
Smiling, Lisa scrolled through her texts. Florence was such a softie.
There were three new messages in the past ten minutes—including one from Mac. She opened it first.
Tried to call, but phone rolled. Out of pocket rest of afternoon and knew you’d want update ASAP. DNA sample arrived in County lab this pm, + answers to our ?s. Alena did have scurvy as child & broke arm & leg in a fall at age 6. Garnet ring was family heirloom. Looking more & more like she’s our victim. Lab’s giving this priority. Talk to u soon.
Exactly what she’d expected to hear.
Now it was just a matter of waiting for Texas to come through and the County lab to do its DNA analysis on the Czech sample.
She leaned back in her chair, set her elbows on the arms, and steepled her fingers. Until she had confirmation of a DNA match, she’d lay low . . . although a follow-up visit with Erika Butler wouldn’t hurt. But the longer she waited—within reason—to push hard, the more nervous the three concertgoers from that long-ago weekend would get . . . assuming they had secrets to hide.
In the meantime, it would be interesting to see what might grow from the seeds of doubt she’d planted.
15
You wanted to see me, Robert?” Jessica stopped in the doorway of the CEO’s office, deferential as always, waiting for a personal invitation to cross the threshold.
He looked up from the document he was reading and gave her a brief, distracted smile. “Yes. Come in. I’ll join you in a moment.” He waved her to the small seating area off to the side. “Make yourself comfortable.”
She chose her usual chair, faced slightly away from the window, protecting her face from the harsh afternoon light that spilled through the expansive windows. No sense calling attention to the fine lines at the corners of her eyes. She’d have to schedule an appointment with Dr. Chandler again soon. Image was everything in this business.
Keeping one eye on Robert, she surveyed the executive office. It was spacious but dated—and bland. Still, it had potential. Arlene could do wonders with it, as she had with the condo. The woman had amazing skill with color and design. No doubt she’d suggest a striking piece of art for the far wall that now h
eld nothing but a large photograph Robert had taken on some family vacation.
Of course, none of the changes would be ostentatious. Understated elegance was the key. Not that it would be inexpensive—but by then, Gary would be history. And the transformation would be gradual. New carpet one month. New furniture the next. Artwork added a piece at a time. All part of the multistage master plan she’d develop with Arlene. As for the color palette, with the western exposure it might—
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Robert edged around the plain wooden coffee table and claimed his usual chair.
“No problem. I was wrapping things up for the day, anyway.”
“Any special weekend plans?”
“A lot of errands—and church on Sunday.” Better attend services this week, as long as he’d asked. It had been at least a month since she’d shown her face there. “What about you?”
“Grandkids.” The man fairly glowed. “We have them for the whole weekend. That’s why I’m cutting out early today. They grow up too fast to miss a minute of fun with them. They’re also one of the reasons I asked you to stop in. After much consideration and a great deal of discussion with my wife, I’ve decided it’s time to pass the baton. I’ll be stepping down at the end of the year.”
Jessica’s pulse surged.
This was it!
After years of laying groundwork and working her way up the corporate ladder, the payoff was at last in sight.
It took every ounce of her self-control to contain her excitement. “That’s big news, Robert. I know you’ll have a wonderful retirement, but the firm won’t be the same without you.”
“I appreciate that. And I’ll stay involved to some extent, especially during the transition. Drake and I built this place from the ground up. It’s hard to let go.”
“Almost like turning a child loose into the world.”
“Exactly. But I’ll remain as chairman of the board so I can keep a discreet eye on things.”
Not optimal. She’d hoped he’d offer to sell out—and she had the funds to buy his majority share, thanks to a sound investment strategy and her late husband’s money. Charles had been a rich man.
One of the few benefits of that marriage.
“I won’t be an intrusive presence to the new CEO, however.”
