“Why do we have to wait until tomorrow?” Cortnie asked.
“First, because my dear Mimi and I have a date tonight. Your man is covering so I don’t have to break my plans, and second, Emmet is out of town. She left right after punching Rayna. I have a cop watching her. I didn’t like her attitude toward Rayna, and I want to talk to her myself. I’d prefer you ladies wait until I question her, then I hope you only talk to her about the damn horse.”
Cornie and I gave each other a knowing look. Of course we’d only talk to Emmet about the horse. We wouldn’t interfere with a homicide investigation.
“I’ve gotta head out. If we aren’t going to do anything fun, I’m going home. I’ll look into a few things from my computer at home.” She left the room.
Nick watched her leave, then wrapped his arms around me and said, “Finally, alone at last. Want to run upstairs for a quickie?”
Forget arms around me. I grabbed his hand and practically ran up the stairs to the second floor of the house.
Since the agency was in a Victorian home, and we only used the first floor, the second floor had three rooms and a bathroom. The room that faced the front of the house was still used as a bedroom, and had a queen sized bed with a dresser, nightstands, and a closet with full amenities, as any well-appointed hotel room would offer. We didn’t often have overnight guests, or any that I can think of, but it was there if needed. And right now, it was needed. And I could find a good use for the shower afterward, too.
We ran up the stairs and rounded the corner when I heard the noise. I stopped. “Did you hear that?”
Nick looked at me like I was stalling. “No.”
I waited. Nothing. Maybe it was my imagination. We walked along the hallway, And I felt like we were school kids getting ready to have sex in our parents’ house while they were out. I got a chill. It was silly, but this was fun.
I stopped before the bedroom door and looked at Nick. He had the sexiest smile on his face, and I could only imagine the things he’d do to me when we got on the other side of that door.
I turned the knob and pushed the door open. When I turned to enter the room, I screamed.
Uta screamed, too, and pulled the covers up over her chest.
The man next to her covered his head.
Nick doubled over laughing, then stepped out of the room.
I looked over my shoulder at him, trying to regain my composure, but watching his face turn crimson and nearly blow up as he tried to stop laughing, wasn’t helping.
I didn’t know if I should say, “Excuse me,” and leave the room, or “What the hell,” and wait for an explanation.
Uta helped me by saying, “I’m so sorry. I thought everyone had left for the day.” She pointed to the blob under the covers. “This is my husband, Roger.”
“Okay,” was all I managed. I wanted to leave the room; sex was definitely the last thing I wanted at the moment. At least me having sex with Nick was the last thing on my mind.
“We are having our house fumigated, and I didn’t think you’d mind if we stayed here tonight. We usually don’t go to bed so early, but well, we were alone and…one thing led to another…”
I didn’t want to know any more. “Uta, it’s fine. You and Roger stay the night. The TV has satellite, and help yourself to anything in the kitchen. Nick and I will be on our way.” I walked out and started to close the door. Realizing I’d been rude, I said, “Oh, nice to meet you, Roger.”
From under the sheets, I heard a muffled, “Nice to meet you, too.”
I closed the door and sprinted past Nick and down the stairs toward my office. I grabbed my purse and briefcase, and headed out to the parking lot. Before I got to my car, I saw Nick walking down the steps of the porch, holding his sides.
At that moment, we both burst out laughing.
“That sort of put a damper on the mood, didn’t it?”
I walked up to him and plastered his body against his car. “But still, to know we’ll still be wanting sex at that age and beyond, makes me want to jump your bones right here in the parking lot.”
He kissed me on the forehead. “Easy, girl. Let’s go back inside and get Lola, then we’ll go to my house, have dinner, and take it from there.”
“Oh, shit.” I’d left Lola sleeping in her bed. I ran up the steps, and unlocked the kitchen door. When I opened it, Lola was standing there waiting for me. “Sorry, girl.”
I went to pat her on the head, but she trotted right past me to Nick. He opened the door to his Crown Vic and she jumped in. “I guess she’s riding with me.”
“I guess she is. I don’t blame her for being mad at me. I’d pretty much ignored her all day.” I kissed Nick on the lips and turned to get in the Land Rover.
“Get in my car. I can bring you back in the morning.”
I wasn’t going to turn down that offer. I pressed the button on my key to lock my car and walked around to the passenger side of the Crown Vic. Nick followed me around to the passenger side and opened the door for me. It seemed all sweet, like he had manners, but he had to open the back so he could put Lola back there. Grudgingly, she moved in slow motion, like she was terrified to jump from the front seat to the ground and took baby steps around to the back door. One foot at a time, she put a paw on the back seat, then pulled it back, as if she couldn’t bear to be stuffed in the back of a cop car.
“Lola, get in the car,” I snapped. The absolute wrong thing to do. She sat firmly on the cement, her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth.
Nick bent down, whispering in Lola’s ear, which perked up, and she jumped into his car like the cement was on fire.
“What did you say?”
“Secret between me and Lola,” he said. He shut her door, then walked around the back of the car and got in.
I didn’t dare stand outside a second longer, because I knew he wouldn’t whisper in my ear; he’d leave me standing in the parking lot.
“I’m going to run by the grocery store and grab something for Lola before we head to the house. I don’t have anything for her.”
He turned onto Central Avenue, then a right on Capitol to West Market. Turning left, we headed toward North Davis Road. At the intersection of Market and North Davis, I saw a familiar vehicle and sat up taller in the seat.
“Nick, slow down.” Of course, he didn’t listen, so I grabbed his arm and said, “I think that’s Skinner’s pickup.” I pointed.
Nick did slow down, and we were right next to the truck, only it wasn’t Skinner’s wife in the passenger seat. Nick slowed even more, and we stayed a car length behind the truck.
“This just keeps getting more and more convoluted.” Nick slid in one car behind Skinner and followed.
So much for Lola getting her dog food, or me getting my home cooked meal. I was still holding out for some good sex, though. I watched as the heavy traffic moved along, trying to get a good look at how cozy Rayna and Skinner seemed in the vehicle together. Pulling up beside them, Rayna was close to the passenger window, or I’d have never recognized her from my vantage point in Nick’s car. North Davis Road is a busy intersection, and it’s not unusual to see people you know, but it’s so busy you rarely have a second to look away from traffic to wave. Nick kept his eyes on the cars and the road, and I kept my eyes on the people in the pickup.
“By the way, I checked out the mayor, and he’s got an airtight alibi for this morning. Not that I thought he was a real suspect anyway, but it was good to rule him out right away. I’ve been looking into the auction, and the contract Bucky had with Pam Brown. That had my attention, until now.”
“Skinner’s wife…” Oh, crap, I hadn’t told Nick I was looking into this case on my end.
“What about Skinner’s wife?” Nick’s voice changed. The casual conversation turned sharp and crisp.
“I went to talk to her about the rift between Bucky and Skinner. You know, get another take on it. See what she thought about the relationship between the two men. She’s been married to
Skinner almost as long as Bucky and Rayna have been married, so I’m sure she’s seen a lot of the bad blood spilled. Anyway, I wanted to meet her.”
“Whatever would you be investigating for your client if the other entity is dead, other than maybe my murder investigation?” He didn’t look at me, and I could see the steam coming out of his ears.
“Fine, I was being nosy. I wanted to see how Skinner’s wife felt about being second fiddle.” I admitted it.
“Second fiddle to what?”
“You mean who. Rayna.As you can see, Skinner’s in love with Rayna. Has been since the day he met her. Only Bucky swooped in and married her before Skinner could win her over. So Skinner settled and married Naomi. I found out that the horse in the middle of all of the friction originally belonged to Naomi, and she’s glad to see Rayna won’t be the owner anymore. She wasn’t too happy to hear that Skinner was planning to buy him back. They’re barely making ends meet, and the fraud that Bucky committed has ruined their credit. That’s why he hired me, to help him fix his credit and get back on track.”
“You think she knows Skinner is seeing Rayna?”
“We don’t know that he is,” I said, defending Skinner for some ungodly reason.
“We’re sure as hell going to find out.”
I heard Lola groan. I turned to see her lay down on the back seat and put her paw over her eyes. She wasn’t happy about this turn of events, fearful her doggy friends were going to see her riding in a cop car.
“Pretend you’re a K9, Lola. Your friends will be proud,” Nick said, like he’d learned her personality as well as Charles had, or maybe Charles had been schooling him. They’d been spending way too much time together lately.
“By the way, I heard the car shopping didn’t go so well.” I wanted to let him know Charles talks to me, too.
“Actually, it went very well.” Nick continued on to Laurel Drive, as Skinner continued toward North Salinas. “He found a Porsche 911 E he might buy. And he kind of has a crush on the salesman.”
Skinner didn’t turn onto Highway 101 toward Prunedale, which would have been back to the Cox place. Instead, they headed into town. This was interesting.
“Oh, no, he’s not getting the 911 after all. Max came by the office and talked him out of it. I don’t know all of the details, but I do know that he and Max are out on a test drive of another car tonight.” I loved knowing more than Nick.
“I guess we’ll be getting an earful by tomorrow morning,” he smiled a knowing smile.
“I know, I almost can’t wait. I’m glad he’s finally looking forward to something.”
The truck turned left on North Main Street, then almost an immediate left into the Wagon Wheel Motel. Nick drove up the block to the intersection and flipped a U-turn. We came back around in time to see Skinner walking into the motel office, while Rayna sat in the truck. She’d slid down in the seat, as if she was afraid someone would see her.
The Wagon Wheel Motel’s color scheme looked more like a flamingo than a wagon wheel, although there were wagon wheels on the front of every motel room door. The building was a cream color with pink trim and pale turquoise doors. Like most motels, the office was up front, and surrounded by well-trimmed bushes. The parking lot was shaped like a horseshoe with a fenced-in swimming pool, some sort of recreation room, and maybe a laundry room, in the middle. That building was painted turquoise with cream trim and pink doors.
“Has Bucky’s death hit the news outlets yet?” I asked. I hadn’t had time to check my news feed or turn on a TV.
“I’m sure it has, but I haven’t checked.” Nick pulled his car into the motel driveway and drove around to the far side of the swimming pool, where the fence and foliage partially obscured his car. We waited.
It was another ten minutes before Skinner returned to his vehicle and jumped in. He drove to the back of the motel and parked in front of room 143. He got out of the truck, went around to the passenger side, and opened the door for Rayna. He helped her out of the truck and had his hand on the small of her back has they walked to the room. Rayna looked at the ground the entire time. I swear she wished she was wearing a ball cap. Skinner unlocked the door and let her in.
“No bags?” I asked.
“Just wait.” Nick shifted his car in reverse and pulled out of the space.
“I don’t see anyone coming out.” I craned my neck to keep the room and truck in view as Nick moved the car.
He moved about four spaces closer to room 143, parking within full view of the motel door.
The door stayed closed. Not even the curtains moved.
“I’m going to get out and get closer to the room. See if I can hear anything.” I grabbed for the door handle.
Nick grabbed my arm. “No, you aren’t. You’re going to stay right here. I don’t care if they are screwing each other’s brains out, or planning their next murder, we aren’t going anywhere near that motel room.”
“Why not?” I didn’t understand his logic. “They could be hiding evidence. Bloody clothes.”
“Rayna doesn’t think she’s a suspect,” Nick said, his voice monotone as he stared at the room.
“And why is that?”
“Because we told her as much.” Same disinterested voice.
I knew this voice. He doled out information, just enough to keep me from bugging him, but not enough to get him in trouble for sharing too much. He acted like it was no big deal, so I wouldn’t get all worked up about it. But I was all worked up about it. If Rayna wasn’t a suspect in Bucky’s murder, and we were following them, then Skinner was.
“So, what you’re saying is, we aren’t following Rayna, we’re following Skinner. You really think he killed Bucky?” I wasn’t sure how I felt about my client being the murderer.
“I’m not sure what I think right now. I’m just waiting to see what happens next.” He never took his eyes off the room.
“But why have you ruled out Rayna?”
“We haven’t.” Point blank.
“But…” Ah, never mind, he didn’t even have to answer. If she didn’t think she was a suspect, she’d be more open to having the cops search the house, or be more relaxed about her movements, and slip up. “You think the case will go cold?”
“I have absolutely no doubt we’ll catch the killer.” The lilt in his voice made me think he already knew who it was. He just had to catch the person, or find enough evidence.
“Alrighty then.” I sat back and closed my eyes. This was his stakeout, not mine. I’d done enough of these, and I wasn’t on duty, so I was taking a nap. I was starving, and I didn’t want to think about my growling stomach, so I concentrated on my breathing. Or on Lola’s snoring, which was louder.
It seemed like only a minute before Nick smacked me on the shoulder. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty, they’re on the move.”
I looked at my watch. We’d been there two hours. It was dark outside. I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check for messages and it started to ring.
I answered.
“Ms. Capurro, it’s Naomi Mathis.” She sounded winded and tired.
“Yes, Naomi.” This couldn’t be good if she was calling me.
“Have you heard from Skinner at all? I’ve been calling him, and he’s not answering his cell phone. I’m starting to worry about him.”
I looked at Nick before answering. “Have I heard from Skinner?” Nick shook his head. “No, I’ve been at work all afternoon, and he hasn’t called me since I talked to you.”
Her voice became shaky, “I hope he’s okay, or I hope he’s dead. I’m not sure which.”
“I’m sure you want him to be okay, Naomi.” I really hoped they weren’t having sex in that motel room. I hoped they would have picked a nicer place than that.
“With Bucky out of the picture, I’m not sure where I stand now. I’m really scared. I haven’t heard from him all day. It’s not like him to leave me to unload the cows, and not even check to see if everything’s okay. If I’m okay.” If I coul
d hear a breakdown coming over the phone line, this would be what it sounded like.
“Are you okay?” I really wanted to know. I felt sorry for Naomi.
“I don’t know. I think so. I need to talk to Skinner.”
We followed Skinner’s truck back up Highway 101 toward what I hoped was the Cox place. I guess we’d find out soon enough. I knew Nick was adept at tailing a suspect (or whatever Skinner was), but I kept finding myself wanting to give him directions, hints, reprimands. I didn’t dare, or he’d leave me on the side of the road. I’d do the same to him if he was in the passenger seat and had the nerve to tell me how to do my job.
“I’ll see if I can get in contact with him. But if he’s not answering to you, he surely won’t answer for me. Are you still at work?” I knew she was; what reason would she have to go home?
“Yes,” she said, barely audible.
“Take a break. Sit down. Have something to drink, and take a deep breath. I’m sure he’s okay, and that you have nothing to worry about.” Lie, lie, lie.
I disconnected and immediately dialed Skinner’s cell phone number.
He answered on the second ring.
I greeted him with, “Call your freaking wife, asshole.”
“Excuse me?” He sounded more perplexed than mad.
“Your wife is terrified that you’ve rolled your truck in a ditch and died. You haven’t returned her calls, and she’s worried about you. Call her now!” I didn’t even try to be friendly.
“What the heck is Naomi doing calling you?” Now he sounded mad.
Oh, about that… “I stopped by your livestock place earlier today, looking for you. Low and behold, you weren’t there. For a man so eager to get to work this morning, you sure have found it difficult to actually make it there.”
“What did you need that you couldn’t have called me for?” His words were clipped.
“That’s beside the point by now. Your wife unloaded a full trailer by herself, because you were too distracted to get to work and help her…”
“Oh my, I truly forgot. I can’t believe…she’s going to kill me. I’ve gotta go.” He hung up on me.
Electile Dysfunction (Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Book 6) Page 12
