by Linda Turner
Relieved, she let out her breath in a rush, but she didn’t fool herself into thinking that the reprieve she’d been granted was anything but temporary. Richard was there somewhere—as long as she’d known him, he’d never missed a day of work—and she would have to deal with him sometime before the day was over. Grimacing at the thought, she headed for the teachers’ lounge for a cup of coffee that she would take with her to her first class.
Normally at that time of the morning, everyone was getting ready for their first class, and few people lingered in the lounge. The minute Rebecca stepped inside, however, she stopped in surprise. Half the staff was there.
“Hey,” Penny Taylor greeted her when she saw her at the door. “Have you heard the news?”
“What news? What’s going on?”
“Tricky Dick is retiring.”
The news caught Rebecca completely by surprise, and she almost laughed aloud in triumph. Yes! She wouldn’t have to deal with him after all, she thought happily. Then she realized that Penny had to be talking about next May, since the new term had just started at the beginning of July.
Frowning, she said, “So that’s the big deal? I knew that months ago. I thought everyone did.”
“But you couldn’t have,” Penny replied, confused. “He just found out yesterday when he went to the doctor.”
“The doctor? For what? What are you talking about?”
“His heart,” the other woman retorted, as confused as she. “Can we start this conversation over? I feel like I just stepped into the middle of an Abbott and Costello routine. How did you know Richard was retiring today when his doctor only recommended it yesterday?”
Stunned, Rebecca felt like she’d been hit between the eyes with a brick. Grabbing Penny’s arm, she pulled her over to a corner where they could speak in relative privacy. “What do you mean today? The last I heard, he was thinking about quitting at the end of the term.”
“That’s what we all thought,” Penny said. “But you know how stressed he’s been over his divorce. Apparently, his blood pressure’s been up for some time now, but for some reason, it went through the roof last night and he had to be rushed to the hospital.”
“Is he okay?”
She shrugged. “He didn’t have to be admitted to the hospital, so I guess so. But his doctor advised him to quit work or risk having a stroke. So he took the rest of the week off and put in for early retirement. He won’t even be back for a farewell party.”
He’d quit, Rebecca thought, reeling. He’d actually quit, and she had to believe it was because of what had happened between them yesterday afternoon in his office. Knowing him, he’d probably gone home and convinced himself she was going to turn him in to the school board for his attack on her, and he’d worked himself into a panic worrying about his image.
Maybe she should have felt guilty about that, but in spite of the fact that she considered herself a charitable person, she couldn’t summon any sympathy for him. They would never be friends again, but the least he could have done was call to apologize for his outrageous behavior.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked Penny. “You know how rumors are around here. Nobody ever stops to ask the source.”
“This time it came straight from the horse’s mouth,” she said with a smug smile. “He called Christina from the hospital last night and told her everything. She’ll take over his duties until the school board appoints another principal.”
Christina Lopez was the assistant principal and one of Penny’s best friends. She also had a reputation for being as honest as the day was long. If the story came from her, it could be counted on to be the gospel.
Which meant Rebecca never had to worry about working with Richard again.
Thrilled, she was so relieved, she didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry. What she wanted to do more than anything, though, was call Austin. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, tell the other teachers about yesterday—what happened between her and Richard was none of their business—but Austin would understand. Especially after all they’d shared last night. But a quick glance at the clock told her that she’d have to wait until later to talk to him. School started in ten minutes, and she had to get to her classroom.
It was one of those days when nothing went right, which was to be expected after only two hours sleep the night before. And although Austin silently acknowledged that he wasn’t operating on all cylinders mentally, that had nothing to do with his mood. He could have been fully rested, with a solid eight hours of sleep under his belt, and he still would have hated the day and everything that it held. Because on this day nine years ago, his wife and unborn daughter had died in childbirth.
Every year, long before the painful anniversary arrived, he told himself he wasn’t going to mark the day on his calendar. He’d just go about his business and let it pass without acknowledgment. His head told him it really could be that simple. Ignore the pain, the loss, and the year would finally come when the day would come and go and he’d never notice.
But even though he knew that was probably the only way he would ever get past their deaths, his heart wouldn’t let him ignore the day. Because to do so was to deny their very existence and his love for them, and he couldn’t do that. So he’d crawled out of bed that morning with a heavy heart, and from there, the day had only gone from bad to worse. Just as he’d known it would.
He shouldn’t have worked. It wasn’t as if one day off would make a difference one way or the other—the investigation wasn’t going anywhere fast anyway. But he needed a distraction, something to take his mind off the sense of loss that squeezed his heart, and he still hadn’t finished questioning everyone who’d had access to the ranch the day of the party. So with nothing better to do, he went in search of the last possible witnesses to the shooting.
By noon, he’d tracked down and interviewed all six people left on his list. Not surprisingly, none of them could tell him anything of importance. He’d talked to everyone who had been at the ranch the day of the shooting, and he had a list of suspects that included at least half of the entire guest list. The only thing he knew for sure was that all of them hadn’t tried to kill Joe.
His mood darker than ever, he headed for Ruby’s Café, where he grabbed a booth at the back, ordered coffee and a turkey sandwich he didn’t really want, and considered his options. There weren’t many. He could start over, do what the police were doing and focus on immediate family and close friends, or give Joe back the money he had advanced him as partial payment for the job and concede defeat.
The problem was, neither option appealed to him. He’d never liked playing the odds in an investigation. He knew why the police did it—they were underpaid and overworked and the faster they named a suspect and had him in custody, the quicker they could proceed to the next case. But the odds didn’t always play out, and he didn’t like dismissing anyone as a suspect just because he or she didn’t happen to be a close friend or family member.
And he sure as hell didn’t like the idea of admitting to Joe or anyone else that he’d been outsmarted by the shooter. He wasn’t a quitter. Over the course of his entire career, there were only two cases he’d given up on, and that was only when he’d exhausted all leads and hadn’t had a single suspect to show for it. That wasn’t the case here. The problem wasn’t that there were no suspects, but too many. Narrowing it down was turning out to be much more difficult than he’d anticipated.
Brooding, he stirred his coffee absently, and still didn’t know what he was going to do when his cell phone rang. Reaching for it, he frowned when he saw the call was from Coker Elementary, where Rebecca worked. “Rebecca? What’s wrong?” he asked the second she came on the line. “Are you okay? Foster hasn’t been bothering you, has he?”
“No,” she said, chuckling. “I know I shouldn’t be so happy—I just found out this morning that he has a serious blood pressure problem I didn’t know anything about—but it’s just so perfect. He’s taken an early retirement. Can you believ
e it? I won’t ever have to deal with him again. He quit.”
“You’re kidding! When?”
“This morning. I don’t know if his conscience was bothering him or what, but his blood pressure skyrocketed last night and he had to be rushed to the hospital. His doctor recommended early retirement, and he took it. He didn’t even put in an appearance this morning.”
She chattered happily about how great it was that things had worked out so easily, and Austin didn’t have the heart to tell her that it wasn’t just dumb luck. If Foster really did have high blood pressure—and he found it odd that Rebecca was only just now hearing about it—Austin doubted it was that that had caused him to put in for early retirement. More likely, it was due to the little visit Austin himself had paid him last night. Foster had realized he’d screwed up and it was only a matter of time before others knew it, too, and he hadn’t been able to face that. So, like a coward, he’d cut and run.
And for Rebecca’s sake, he was glad. She’d been through enough. “That’s great, honey. I was wondering how your day was going. I knew you were dreading seeing him again.”
“Oh, I was! My stomach was in knots. Then when I found out he was gone for good, I was thrilled. Not that I would ever want him to be sick,” she quickly added. “I would never wish that on anyone.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. Anyone who knows you knows that.”
“I hope so. I was just so relieved, I had a hard time hiding it.” Her news now told, she said brightly, “Enough about me. What about you? How’s the investigation going?”
“I finally wrapped up the last of the interviews, so at least that’s finished. Where the investigation goes from here is still up for grabs, but I’ll figure something out.”
He would have sworn that his tone was positive and disguised his low mood, but Rebecca was more discerning than most. “Is something wrong?” she asked worriedly. “You sound down.”
“I’m just frustrated,” he said with a shrug, skirting the whole truth.
“Maybe it would help if you reenacted the shooting,” she suggested. “I know you have it all drawn on paper, but actually seeing where everyone was standing, who might have had an opportunity to fire a gun without anyone else seeing, might give you some real insight. If nothing else, it should help narrow down the list of suspects.”
The idea was so simple, Austin wondered why he hadn’t thought of it himself. Grinning for the first time all day, he teased, “Are you sure you were never a P.I.? That’s a terrific idea. I’ll call Joe and set it up for this afternoon. You’re going to help me with this, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she assured him with a chuckle. “I’ll meet you at the ranch after school.”
She hung up soon after that—she had to get back to class—and had no idea what her call had done for him. His mood lighter, he reached for his sandwich. Maybe he’d eat, after all.
Eight
When the call came at two o’clock that afternoon, Patsy was just on her way out the door to go shopping for a new dress to wear to the Governor’s Ball. It was the social event of the summer and still a month away, but it took time to find just the right dress. Maybe she’d make a quick trip to Beverly Hills. She was bound to find something there that would be perfect for her and outrageously expensive. Smiling at the thought, her brown eyes gleamed with malice. She did so love spending Joe’s money.
“Wait, Miss Meredith,” Inez called before she could slip out the front door to where her Mercedes waited in the drive. “There’s a call for you.”
“Take a message,” she said coldly, not sparing her so much as a glance. “I’m going shopping.”
“But it’s the police! That nice Detective Law.”
Dread striking her heart, Patsy stopped in her tracks. Every instinct she had urged her to run, to pretend that she’d already left before the call came in, but it would be just like that bitch Inez to tell that awful Thaddeus Law that she refused to talk to him. Then he’d start to wonder why.
Sick with fear at the thought, she shot Inez a murderous look. “I’ll take it in my sitting room,” she snarled, and stormed upstairs to the intimate room at the back of her bedroom. Furious, she would have liked nothing more than to snatch up the phone and demand to know what Thaddeus Law thought he was doing, harassing her the way he was. Damn him, didn’t he know who she was? She could have him fired. She knew the right people. All she had to do was make one phone call. One stinking phone call!
For a moment, a cunning smile curled her mouth. But even as she toyed with the idea, she knew she couldn’t. The man was already too suspicious of her as it was. She had to handle him with kid gloves, or everything was going to come tumbling down around her ears, and that scared the hell out of her.
“You can’t screw this up,” she said fiercely. “Just remember who you are—Mrs. Joe Colton—and no one can touch you.”
But pretending to be sweet, syrupy Meredith wasn’t nearly as easy as she’d have liked when she picked up the phone and greeted the man who wanted to bring her down. “Goodness, Detective, you almost missed me. I was just on my way out the door to buy a dress for the Governor’s Ball. What can I do for you?”
“Actually, Mrs. Colton, I need to speak to you about the shooting,” he said smoothly. “Since you’re on your way out, anyway, why don’t you stop by the station before you go shopping? Do you think you can be here in fifteen minutes?”
Trapped, fury flashing in her eyes, Patsy just barely resisted the urge to tell him to go to hell. What kind of idiot did he think she was? She wasn’t going anywhere near him or the police station!
Then he’ll just come after you, a snide voice in her head taunted, and lock you up. Is that what you want?
No! She didn’t even have to think twice about that. She broke out in a cold sweat just at the thought of being caged again like an animal. “Fifteen minutes should be more than enough time,” she said in a voice that wasn’t nearly as steady and confident as she would have liked. “I’ll see you then.”
With barely controlled rage, she hung up the phone, then lightning quick, hurled it across the room. “Cocky son of a bitch!” She would come in, all right, she fumed. Then she’d go straight to the police commissioner, who was a good friend of Joe’s, and tell him exactly what she thought of the oh-so-irritating Detective Law. Then they’d see who had the last laugh.
But even as she imagined herself taking advantage of Joe’s connections, she knew she couldn’t. Not without casting suspicion on herself. She could just hear Thaddeus Law now. If she was innocent of any wrongdoing, why would she object to answering a few questions? Didn’t she want to help the police catch the man who had tried to kill her husband?
“Bastard!” she raged. They were all bastards—Joe, the police, Austin McGrath. And they all wanted to bring her down, especially Joe. He’d never forgiven her for getting pregnant with Teddy. Oh, he’d stuck by their bargain—in public, he gave her all the attention and respect due his wife, and he raised Teddy as his own even though they both knew he wasn’t—but he despised her and their sham of a marriage. He was just waiting for the day she left him.
“Not till hell freezes over,” she vowed grimly. She’d see him dead first.
That thought brought her back to the police. Glancing at her watch, she blanched. Time was running out. Panic clawed at her from the inside out, tying her stomach in knots, and she could feel herself start to come undone. Horrified, she snatched up her purse. “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God.” Where were her pills? She needed her pills to settle her nerves!
She found them almost immediately, but her hands were shaking so badly that it was several long, agonizing minutes before she could get the child safety lid off. Frantic by then, she poured four into her hand and popped them hurriedly into her mouth, swallowing them dry.
“Calm down,” she told herself, pacing the length of the room restlessly. “Everything’s going to be fine. Just wait for the pills to kick in and you can ha
ndle that bully Law with one hand tied behind your back.”
She’d skipped lunch and hadn’t had anything but toast for breakfast, so it didn’t take long for the sedative to hit her bloodstream. Almost immediately, her panic subsided and she started to smile. That was more like it.
The flashback came out of nowhere. One second she was in her sitting room, plotting how she was going to outsmart Law, and the next, she was back in that flea-bitten motel room where she’d given birth to her daughter, Jewel, and Ellis Mayfair was lying dead at her feet. Horrified, she took a step back and bumped into her restoration French desk. In her mind, however, it was the cheap particle-board dresser at the Wayside Inn that cut into the back of her thighs.
“No!” she whispered. This couldn’t be happening. She’d just taken too many pills.
The illusion, however, wouldn’t go away, and suddenly, the police were swarming that long-ago hotel room and roughly dragging her from the dresser. Only hours before, she’d had a baby, her darling baby girl who had been stolen from her by Ellis, and the cops had treated her like she was the criminal! They’d clamped handcuffs on her wrists, read her her rights and bullied her when she refused to confess. And all the while, Meredith stood silently by and never said a word in her defense. Not then, and not later at the trial, when she could have lied and claimed she herself killed Ellis when she walked in and found him trying to hurt her sister.
“Bitch.” She’d always been the favored one, Saint Meredith, the one who could do no wrong, and she hadn’t lifted a finger to help her. Right then, Patsy had started plotting her revenge.
The grandfather clock in the foyer struck the hour, jerking her drug-hazed mind back to the present. She had to get to the police station! A drink. She needed a drink to clear her head. Rushing to her private stash, she poured a stiff scotch.
