Brian’s eyes still burned with accusations, but he released her. “This isn’t over.”
Emily stepped between them. “Why don’t we go inside? I think you owe this young lady an apology and I’d like to hear what she has to say.”
“All right, but I think you’re making a mistake. And I don’t intend to apologize.”
Carolyn hesitated. An apology? Emily sounded sincere, but did she have ulterior motives?” She sensed that Brian, though he’d calmed down, hadn’t finished his tirade. Was his mother providing a more private venue for him? Carolyn tucked her fears away—or tried to. She’d come here to give Emily back the money that Adam had given her to paint his portrait. That’s what she intended to do.
Michael would have worn a hole in the rug if he’d been able to walk. Instead of pacing, he’d let his mind run wild and come up with far too many scenarios of what could have happened to Carolyn.
Marla had been gone for over an hour. Carolyn had the burner phone he’d given her but it was going straight to voicemail. She had to know that he and Marla would be worried. He checked his cell for the umpteenth time. Nothing.
He was just setting it back on the coffee table when it buzzed. Marla. “Did you find her?”
“I did. I was able to track the GPS on the rental.”
“And?” Relief came and then left just as quickly.
“The car is parked in the Burke’s driveway. And Brian’s car is right beside it.” She hesitated. “Something else. Do you know where they live?”
“I have an address, but never had a chance to go by the house.”
“On a bluff maybe a couple hundred feet from where you were shot.”
“So one of them could have been the shooter?”
“You’re thinking Brian? It’s a possible, I suppose, but….”
“Have you called for back-up?”
“Um—no. I thought I’d check things out first.”
“Marla, that’s not a good idea.”
“I could say I’m following up on the shooting.”
He sighed. “No. Radio in your intentions and make sure your superiors are okay with it. And wait for back up.”
He heard the dial tone before he’d finished speaking.
Michael hung up. “I don’t like this one bit.” Instead of settling down to rest, he put in a call to his partner for an update. Doug should have checked out the list of names from hotel security by now. And he wanted to give him a heads up on Carolyn and Marla’s location.
“Calhoun.” His partner’s voice sounded coarser than usual. “Hey, Stedman. I figured you’d be calling. I can’t talk right now.”
“What’s going on?”
“You know that list of names from the hotel? The guy working security the night of the big party is dead. We got a call from his girlfriend. She found him in his apartment.”
“Girlfriend? I thought the guy was married with kids. A Greg something.”
“McNeil. He was supposed to be working. He apparently traded shifts with the dead guy at the last minute.”
Michael leaned forward pressing a hand to his head. “Any leads?”
“Nothing so far. The crime unit is processing the scene. Listen, I’ve got to go. I’ll come by later and fill you in on the details.”
“Right. Details.” His sarcasm went unanswered as Doug had already ended the call.
Michael bashed his fist into the arm of his recliner, glad for the cushion. The last thing he needed was to break his hand. He had to settle down. With his injury he wouldn’t be much help anyway. If fact, he wasn’t supposed to be working the case at all. He was lucky Doug and Marla were keeping him abreast of their findings. They could keep him out of the loop completely.
“Carolyn, please sit down.” Emily Burke gestured toward the expansive living room.
“Thank you.” Carolyn settled into an off-white chair that offered a view of the beach. Her apprehension over going inside the Burke estate had dissipated. Brian, though he’d followed Carolyn and his mother inside, strode down the hallway and into one of the rooms.
“Would you like some tea?” Emily shifted her gaze from her son’s retreating figure to Carolyn.
“You don’t need to go to any trouble.”
“No trouble. It’s already made. I was just going to have some when I heard Brian making a scene.” She smiled. “I apologize for my son. He’s taking his father’s death very hard. We all are, but….”
Carolyn nodded. “I understand.”
“Excuse me a moment.” Emily headed into the kitchen area. While she was gone, Carolyn took a moment to appreciate the view. The architect had designed the house so that one could see the ocean from every room. A windowed deck graced the front of the house. It reminded Carolyn of Marla’s parent’s place only more elegantly appointed. A stone fireplace covered the southeast wall. The walls were the same off-white as the furniture and would have seemed stark and sterile if not for the colorful paintings and accessories. She gasped when she saw that the seascape Adam Burke had purchased from her at the gallery hung between 2 large windows on the north wall.
“Are you surprised to see your painting?” Emily set a silver tray laden with cups, a tea service, and a small china plate of cookies on the glass topped coffee table.
“Yes, to be honest, I wasn’t sure what to expect.”
Carolyn accepted the tea Emily poured for her. “Do you take sugar or cream?”
“No. This is fine.” She took a sip, immediately recognizing it as Earl Grey.
“Do try the Madeleines. I baked them this morning.”
Carolyn picked one up, puzzled by Emily’s demeanor. She certainly didn’t seem the grieving widow.
As if reading her mind, Emily added, “Having something to do helps me cope. A little anyway.”
After taking a drink of her tea, Emily caught Carolyn’s gaze. “I’m glad you came by.”
“I—.” Carolyn looked away. “I wanted to tell you . . ..” She found it hard to say the words. “Mrs. Burke, despite what the papers and the newscasters say, I was not having an affair with your husband.”
“I know.”
Carolyn made eye contact again. The kindness she saw in Emily’s eyes surprised her. “You do?”
Emily smiled. “I’ve known all along.” She reached out and touched Carolyn’s arm. “My husband and I have been happily married for twenty-five years. I refuse to believe that he’d be unfaithful. I told the police that—I’ve told reporters that, but I guess they’d rather believe the worst.”
Carolyn took another sip of her tea. “Do you have any idea who might want to implicate your husband and then kill him?”
“No idea at all.” She set her cup down. “It isn’t as though he didn’t have enemies. When you’re a politician, enemies come with the territory, but killing him?” She shook her head. “I can’t imagine.”
“I was a target too and still am.” Carolyn told her about the note and the dead carnation she’d received at the hospital. “The only connection I’ve ever had with your husband was when he bought that painting.”
“It’s so beautiful.” She smiled. “He gave it to me as an anniversary gift. “I’ve always loved seascapes and yours is magical.”
“Thank you.” Carolyn didn’t know how to respond. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
“Oh?”
“He commissioned me to paint his portrait. It was to be a gift for your anniversary.”
“He did?” Emily’s lips quivered, her stoicism lessening as her eyes filled with tears. She pulled a tissue from the box on the end table.
Carolyn reached into the bag she’d set beside the chair and pulled out her check-book. “He gave me a retainer—a thousand dollars. I wanted to return it since. . ..”
“No, please.” Emily held up a hand. “Please. Keep it. I would love to have a portrait of my husband. That is if you think you can still do it. I know this has been hard for you as well.”
Carolyn swallowed back
a sob. “I—I’m not sure.”
“The police told me you’d been drugged. And that you hadn’t killed him. I’d already determined that.”
Carolyn nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Scenes of waking up next to Adam crashed back into the forefront of her mind. Her stomach crested on a wave of nausea. Carolyn covered her mouth and closed her eyes willing the visions to go away.
“I’m sorry.” Emily tipped her head back. “It must have been horrific finding him like that.”
“I wish I could make the images disappear. I suppose they will in time.”
“I hope so.”
Carolyn read true sympathy in Emily’s eyes. “I don’t understand why you are part of all of this. Unless. . ..”
After a long pause Carolyn asked. “What were you going to say? Unless what?”
“Nothing.” She dabbed moisture from her cheeks. “It’s just so unthinkable.”
“Please. You remembered something didn’t you? Something that might help the case?”
She sighed. “I have no idea why you’ve been made a target. Maybe someone saw you and Adam talking at the art exhibit or even at the fundraiser.”
“Possibly. Like his opponent? I remember seeing James Trenton that night. I saw an interview on TV last night—he . . ..”
“I saw it too.” Emily shuddered. “He had no business saying those things.”
“No, he didn’t.” Carolyn hesitated not sure if she should ask the obvious question. “Do you think Trenton could have killed your husband?”
The doorbell rang, ending their conversation and leaving Carolyn’s question unanswered. A moment later, Emily escorted Marla into the living room.
Michael had never been so relieved to see anyone in his life. If he’d been able, he would have raced across the living room and caught Carolyn up in his arms and . . .. And what? He chided himself for getting caught up in the moment. Instead of welcoming her with open arms, he folded his arms against his chest and glowered at her. “It’s about time you showed up. You had us worried sick.”
“You’re right,” she said. “I should have at least called you. I was afraid you’d try to stop me from going to see Emily.”
“How? Tackle you?”
She winced at his tone and then offered up a tentative smile. “No. You wouldn’t have to. I would have felt like I do now.”
“Which is?” He could hardly speak. She was far too beautiful for her own good. He wondered if she had any idea what she was doing to his libido. He reminded himself again that he needed to steer clear of her, at least until they’d solved the case.
“That I need to be here to take care of you.”
“Humph. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
She met his harsh gaze with one that turned his insides to mush. Michael adjusted the ice pack on his leg and straightened the pillow behind him.
“I’m sorry you were worried.” Carolyn pinched her lips together. “I’m not sorry I went to see Emily.”
He worked his jaw back and forth. “You were taking a huge risk. Marla told me Brian was there.”
“Yes, and despite the wig and glasses, he recognized me. I need to be careful not to let people get too close.”
Michael couldn’t help but wonder if her comment went deeper than her disguise. “Did he hurt you?”
She rubbed her right arm. “I'll have a bruise, but his mother intervened before he could do any real damage.”
Anger surged through him. “Do you want him arrested?”
“No. After I told him about the evidence, he backed off.” She set her bag on the table in the entry and pulled off the wig and glasses. “We need to remember that Brian just lost his father.”
She was showing entirely too much compassion for the guy. “That doesn’t give him the right to assault people.”
“I’m not making excuses for him. Just cutting him some slack, which is what you should do.” Shaking out her long blonde hair, she started toward him.
Michael’s heart jumped to his throat. “Where’s Marla?” He knew the rookie officer had gone back to work, but needed to alter the direction his mind was taking.
“I left her at the Burke’s place. She said she planned to check in with Doug. I told her we needed to look at James Trenton as a possible suspect.”
“And why is that?” He seemed to remember Marla mentioning the guy’s name, but he’d been a drug induced haze at the time. And he’d been concerned about Carolyn not showing up.
“I saw him at the resort on Saturday night before we went into the ballroom to eat.”
“I remember. We chalked it up to publicity.”
Carolyn settled onto narrow space beside him on the couch and picked up the limp ice pack. “Looks like it’s time for a new one.”
“Leave it.” Michael found it hard to breathe, let alone speak. He raised his arm and wove his fingers into her hair drawing her closer.
She went still. Her blue eyes fixed on his. Their eyes closed as their lips touched and then touched again.
“Michael,” Carolyn whispered. Her hands pressed against his chest as she moved away. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Why not.” At the moment he didn’t care about later. She’d tasted sweet and he wanted more. He knew the pain medication was interfering with rational thought.
She gave him an indulgent smile. “You’re on pain pills and not thinking clearly. You don’t want to do something you’ll regret later. And we’re both emotionally charged.”
“Right.” He cleared his throat.
“When this is all over—when life gets back to some kind of normalcy, we should talk, but right now you need to rest.”
“I know.” He closed his eyes to block her image. “You were going to get me another icepack.”
Carolyn picked up the limp pack and took it to the freezer where she swapped it out for a frozen one. Marla had given her directions for Michael’s care back in the Burke’s driveway. “He’s grouchy as an old bear,” Marla had said. “It’s tough to be injured like that when you’re in the middle of a case. I’m worried he’ll try to do too much too soon. Guys are like that. Take it from a gal with four brothers. He needs a woman to keep him in line.”
“I don’t think he wants it to be me.”
“Are you kidding? He’s crazy about you.”
Carolyn stared at her friend in disbelief. “I’m a nuisance. I annoy him. Besides, I have to go home. With this disguise I should be able to slip into the main part of the house unnoticed.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I need some clothes and . . ..”
“That can wait. We can shop later. I have to get back to work and we can’t be leaving him alone too long. We need to make sure he takes his pain pills and rests his leg. He thinks he’s tougher than he is and I’m afraid he’ll do something stupid. I bought a couple of ice packs earlier—be sure he uses them. And feed him.”
“You sound like his mother.”
She grinned. “Like I said, I know how guys think.”
Carolyn had hurried back to Michael’s apartment then. Marla had been right. He was grouchy and no doubt in a lot of pain. She’d been prepared for that, but not for the attraction building between them. Not for his kiss. Her lips still tingled with the feel of him. She hadn’t wanted the kiss to end.
You’re here to nurse him back to health, not raise his blood pressure, she reminded herself. Carolyn smiled at the thought that she might have done just that. He’d certainly raised hers. She pushed aside her errant thoughts and desires aside and took the icepack to him.
“Thanks.” He glanced up at her when their fingers brushed, but she turned away.
“Let me get you some fresh water.” She frowned at the two pills sitting beside the nearly full water glass. “When was the last time you took something for pain?”
He shrugged. “This morning.”
It was nearly five. “Take these.”
He crossed
his arms. “And if I don’t?”
“I’ll leave. I want to go home anyway and if you aren’t going to cooperate I might as well let you fend for yourself.”
He surprised her by holding out his hand and letting her drop the pills into it and then swallowing them down with the water she gave him.
“You can’t go back to your place. Not yet. It’s too dangerous.”
She nodded. “You may be right. We’ll talk about that later. Right now I think you need to take a nap while I make dinner for us.”
His lips curled in a smile as his eyes drifted closed. “Now that’s something we can agree on.”
Carolyn watched him for a moment, and then pulled the afghan up to tuck him in. Her heart tripped a little as he reached out to take hold of her hand. She squeezed his gently and pulled away.
Two hours later, Michael limped to his recliner so he could keep his leg elevated and eat from the tray Carolyn had prepared for him.
“You didn’t have a lot of options in your fridge,” she said.
“I recognize the salad and the grapes, but what’s this?” He pressed his fork into the pie shaped concoction.
“I made a sweet-potato and smoked salmon quiche.”
It didn’t sound all that great, but his stomach growled in anticipation. He forked off a small piece and after examining it for a moment, stuck it in his mouth. The combination of sweet potatoes, onions, smoked salmon and eggs were about the best thing he’d eaten since his mom’s shepherd pie back in Minnesota. “This is great.”
She smiled. “Glad you like it.”
She set up a TV tray table in front of the sofa and ate with him. “I know you’re off work for a couple of weeks, but do they keep you in the loop regarding the investigation?”
He stopped eating, carefully weighing his answer. “Doug will let me know what’s happening.” He thought about the news he’d gotten earlier. It wasn’t something he could share. “He’ll probably come by later.”
“So is there anything new?”
Michael hesitated a little too long.
“What is it?”
Deadly Deception (An Artisan Mystery Book 1) Page 8
