“Never,” she said bluntly.
“Really? Not even as a little girl?”
“I was always a tomboy,” she told him curtly, hoping he would get the hint and leave her to her work.
Again, he smiled and drew near. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I’m a repair woman. I’m a contractor. I built this house. You seriously find it hard to believe I was always like this?” she asked dryly.
He only chuckled.
Christ, she thought. Did he think he was flattering her?
“I’d like to see you in another ball gown,” he mused.
“I’d like to see a winning lottery ticket in my hand. It’s not going to happen, though.”
He found her comment funny, completely missing the point apparently, and had the audacity to reach up and tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. She urged him back, stating, “I’m married.”
“I’m rich.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Easily, he shrugged, saying, “Just that we don’t have to let the facts of our lives stop us from what we really want.”
“Excuse me?” she blurted out, offended and heading toward the door.
How could he possibly think she was interested? She’d given him absolutely no signs or signals because, quite frankly, she didn’t find him charming or attractive.
As her hand landed on the doorknob, she turned.
If he thought he was so wealthy that the law couldn’t touch him—and since he was also very bold—he might be stupid enough to confide in her.
“What do you make of the dead woman in your bed?”
He let out a deep and breathy laugh. “When you put it like that, I sound like a killer.”
She stared at him.
“She shouldn’t have been here, simple as that.”
“You mean she should’ve died somewhere else,” she supplied, highlighting his profound lack of compassion. “Or do you mean that if she hadn’t come to your home, she wouldn’t have been killed?”
His expression turned serious and his smoldering gaze went cold, as he said, “I’ve spoken with the police.”
“I’m sure you have.”
“I didn’t know that woman. She wasn’t on the guest list.”
“If you don’t know her name, then how could you possibly know whether or not she was on the list?”
“I didn’t say I didn’t know her name,” he corrected her.
He was playing games and she didn’t like it. “What’s her name?”
“I’ve told the police,” he said easily.
“Did you also tell them that you were aware she had died in that coat room?”
“What makes you think I was aware?”
“I saw you. I saw your reaction even before the medics arrived. And I know what I saw.”
“Well, Kate,” he said once again smiling. “I’m very interested in hearing all about it. Perhaps over dinner?”
She snorted a laugh and folded her arms. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Approaching her, he said, “I never kid about dinner,” and as he widened the door and stepped out in the corridor he added, “I’ll have a dress sent to your house.”
Her house?
How the hell did he know where she lived?
She was about to race after him, and warn that he had better stay away from her and her house, when Scott stepped into the doorway.
“I thought I saw you come in,” he said with a tired smile.
“Helping Justina out with something,” she mentioned, her eyes locked on Hans as he trailed up a long staircase.
“So Max has Josie?”
“Yeah,” she said quickly looking at him. “I should’ve told you, I’m sorry. I’ll only be here an hour tops then I’m heading back.”
“Hey, no problem. I might go late here. It’s a real mess. Plus I have to get over to the morgue, but I’ve already told everyone I’m taking a full hour for dinner so maybe we can get out of the house. I’m thinking Daisy’s?”
She smiled. Of course he was thinking about having dinner at Daisy’s. It was his favorite restaurant.
“Sure,” she said before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “I can’t wait.”
She watched him lumber off toward the coatroom and when she returned to her duties, she worked faster than she ever had in her life.
Being in the mansion was making her skin crawl.
Chapter Four
Kate set her clipboard on the passenger’s seat of her truck, pleased that she hadn’t discovered any damage to the furniture that was rented from Corey’s Cabinets. After sending Justina a brief text message to relay as much, she turned the key in the ignition and drove in a wide arch, pulling around and heading down the long and winding driveway.
When she reached the booth at the gate, she rolled her window down and put her truck in Park even though the gatekeeper, a weathered looking man in his early forties, was already rolling the gate open.
“Do you have a minute?” she asked and he released the button on the console of his booth. The gate halted. “I wanted to ask you about the event the other night.”
Something behind his eyes told her that he both knew where this was going and didn’t want to get involved.
“Please,” she said. “Did you see a young, twenty-year-old woman come in last night? She had long, wavy brown hair and was wearing a black dress. The skirt was short and she had fake eyelashes.”
“I have no idea.”
“Yes you do,” she pressed. “You either remember seeing her or you didn’t. She’d be hard to forget...the only woman in a short skirt.”
He grumbled and glanced over his shoulder at the mansion.
“She wasn’t on the list, was she?” Kate asked.
He twisted his mouth to the side and after a long moment he told her, “No, she wasn’t.”
“But you let her in?”
“Look,” he said firmly. “I can’t get dragged into this.”
“You already are. If the police haven’t spoken with you yet, they will. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Then maybe I should wait until then.”
“I’m the Police Chief’s wife. If you tell me, then you won’t have to repeat yourself to the cops.”
He studied her as though he were debating then sighed. “Alright, she wasn’t on the list, but she was with someone who was. I would’ve been strict about it, but... I wasn’t about to mess with him.”
“Who?” she asked eagerly. When he said nothing, she repeated, “Who did the woman come with?”
“Lady, you are about to open a whole can of worms that you won’t be able to control.”
“Let me worry about that,” she insisted.
“She arrived with Taylor Rheingold.”
He had said the man’s name as if Kate should know who he was, but she didn’t.
“You know,” he went on, “the solar energy tycoon from Norway?”
She had never heard of him, but wondered why the guard would be too intimidated to deny the man’s date entry to the event. Then again, it probably wasn’t easy saying no to any of those rich types.
“They drove in?”
“Yeah, Taylor was behind the wheel and the girl was in the passenger’s seat...she seemed off.”
“Off? How?”
“Like she didn’t understand where she was, for one. Also, she was sort of leaning forward and I couldn’t see her hands.”
Kate furrowed her brow, not quite understanding him.
He clarified, “I think her hands were tied together and pinned to the adjustment bar under the seat.”
“So she didn’t come here of her own free will,” she surmised. And judging the guard’s mention of how the woman didn’t understand where she was... She hadn’t taken drugs. She’d been drugged. “Did you get her name?”
“No,” he said. “Sorry. There was a line of cars and Mr. Rheingold looked pressed for time.”
“Are there any security c
ameras around your booth?” she asked.
“Haven’t been installed yet.”
So there was no way for Kate to prove this Taylor Rheingold character had driven the woman in, not beyond the guard’s word.
“Did you notice anything else unusual?”
The guard thought about it for a moment then said, “Mr. Rheingold looked really sweaty. His bow tie was undone and his shirt was unbuttoned down the front. But I didn’t make it my business to ask him why.”
“No, of course not,” she said, suddenly wondering where Taylor Rheingold might be staying while in Rock Ridge and hoping like hell he hadn’t flown back to Norway. He could be the killer. “Thanks for your time,” she said, shifting her truck into Drive.
The guard opened the gate the rest of the way and Kate drove through, all the while wondering about Dean Wentworth and his strange reaction to the dead woman who had been found in the coatroom. He’d known her age and had insisted she was too healthy to die of natural causes. Did Dean know the woman personally? Had he gotten in so deep with men like Hans Geoffrey and Taylor Rheingold that he’d met a call girl and looked the other way when she was drugged and dumped in the mansion?
It set her teeth on edge just to think about it and the emotion was so strong that she knew she wouldn’t be able to simply drive home and enjoy the rest of her day.
She drove to the mayor’s office instead.
When she reached the Municipal Building parking lot, she pulled around to the back and parked near the rear entrance. Scott was still working the crime scene at the mansion and though he had told her he was planning on going to the morgue next, she didn’t want to risk him catching her in the same building as the precinct.
As she made her way inside, she thought about the year that Jason and Jared had lived in Rock Ridge. The mayor’s office reminded her of Jared, because he had worked for Dean and had enjoyed his time there. She remembered knocking out part of the brick wall and installing a window in her son’s office. She had painted it yellow, Jared’s favorite color as a child. She smiled noting that yellow was Josie’s favorite color as well.
When she reached the second floor, she crossed the hallway quickly and opened the door to the mayor’s office.
The receptionist was out, which didn’t surprise her. Dean had sent all of his employees into town to spread the word on where he stood politically on all the issues in hope of gaining votes.
She noticed Dean’s office door was ajar and as she neared it, she overheard him speaking. It took a moment of listening before she realized he was on the phone and not speaking to someone in person.
“We have to bury this thing,” he spoke low, pushing the words through gritted teeth. “No, I know the police are crawling all over the mansion. That’s not what I mean and you know it. I can’t get tied to this.” He listened for a long moment then blurted out, “No, I didn’t make my bed! And no, I’m not going to lie in it!”
He slammed the phone into its cradle and Kate flinched. She didn’t think she’d ever heard him so angry. Maybe this was a bad time.
Whether it was or wasn’t, she knocked on the door and said, “Dean?”
“Yeah, Kate? Is that you?”
As she stepped into his office she tried not to stare. He looked shaken up. His complexion seemed pale and his tie was loose and crooked.
“Hi,” she said softly with a smile. “I thought I’d check on you. See how you’re holding up.”
He sighed, lowering into his chair, and began rubbing his eyes.
“Long night?”
“Wasn’t it?” he countered. “What a nightmare. I never thought I’d have to make a speech while police retrieved a dead woman down the hall.”
Kate nodded compassionately as she sat across from him.
“Did you at least get some big donations?”
“Uh, possibly. I was too rattled. I didn’t do the math on what the fundraiser brought in,” he admitted.
“That’s understandable,” she said, trailing off to buy time to read his expression. He looked as though he hadn’t slept. “About that,” she went on. “If there’s anything you know, then Dean, you really have to come forward. Think about how things will blow up if you don’t.”
His gaze snapped up to meet hers and his eyes widened.
“You mean Scott has something on me?” he demanded.
“No,” she assured him. “But if there’s something to find, he’ll find it. You know that. It’s important to stay ahead of this thing.”
“Ahead of it?” He groaned then began laughing and rubbing his eyes again. “I can’t even get out from under it.”
After a moment, she asked, “Who is Taylor Rheingold?”
“Rheingold? Why?”
“He brought the woman to the event,” she explained.
Dean seemed to make a performance out of screwing his face up as though he had never heard of the man. Kate wasn’t buying it.
“Dean, I have to ask you,” she went on. “Was that woman a prostitute?”
He stared at her for a stunned moment. “How should I know?”
“You knew she was twenty years old and healthy,” she pointed out. “You let that slip before you’d even reached the coat room.”
Kate could tell he was angling to get out of this conversation, but they had been friends for too long, too many years. He couldn’t lie to her and, because of it ,he gradually came around.
“Alright, look,” he said in a low tone. “I knew her. But I didn’t know she’d be there.”
He was mixing lies with the truth and she didn’t appreciate it.
“You know what I think?” she said in a sympathetic voice. “I think Taylor could be responsible. I think Hans Geoffrey could’ve played a role as well. And I think you’re so determined to meet your fundraising goals and win the election that you’re sitting on information that could help Scott catch the killer—”
“No one knows she was killed,” he blurted out defensively. “Because she wasn’t killed.”
“You don’t know that. What I’m trying to say is that there are worse things than being slandered in the newspaper. If you’re arrested because you withheld information, your political career will be just as over.”
She was getting through to him, but he still wasn’t ready to talk.
“There’s a witness who saw Taylor Rheingold drive in with the woman. She looked drugged and out of it, and her hands may have been tied.”
Dean cringed with remorse.
“You really need to tell me what you know,” she pressed, but he only began shaking his head. “Dean—”
“I don’t know anything!”
“But you knew her,” she insisted. “What was her name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes you do. Tell me.”
“No, I really don’t.” After a long moment, he finally gave in. “She went by Cherry. I never knew her real name.”
“So she was a prostitute,” she surmised.
“An escort,” he corrected her. “It’s not against the law.”
Not unless Cherry tended to take things further than dinner and drinks, thought Kate.
“How did you meet her?”
“Kate,” he groaned. “I can’t go down this road with you. I’m trying to contain this mess not make it worse.”
“Your career is on the line.”
“No one knows that better than me.”
“Did Taylor introduce you?”
He pressed his mouth into a hard line, shaking his head.
“Where is Taylor staying? Is he staying at the mansion with Hans? Or at a hotel somewhere?”
“Kate, none of this is what you think, and you have to leave it alone.”
“No one is going to leave this alone, Dean,” she asserted, raising her voice. “The police are investigating. The truth will come out.”
Realizing that he wasn’t going to talk, she rose to her feet, but when she reached the door, he said, “Stop.”
She
turned, slowly facing him.
“Look, I’ll tell you how I met Cherry... but...” he cringed again and went back to silently debating with himself.
“But what?” she asked.
He locked eyes with her. “You have to promise not to tell my wife.”
Chapter Five
Kate wasn’t sure she could make any promises and yet knew that if she didn’t, Dean wouldn’t open up about how he’d met Cherry, so she tried to reason with him.
“The only way to keep this quiet,” she explained, “is to tell me and Scott what you know so that he can arrest the right person and quickly. The longer he’s investigating, the more he’s going to dig up.”
Dean seemed to weigh the pros and cons. He ran his finger over his mouth and stared off into space.
“If you cover for them,” she warned, “you’re going to look guilty.”
“I know that,” he snapped.
She waited patiently for him to come around.
After a long moment of debating, he finally said, “About four months ago, I met Hans Geoffrey. He was visiting Rock Ridge for the first time and liked the area. You know how much money he has, you saw him,” he pointed out, as though it was evidence that would demonstrate how Dean never really had a chance. “Hans wanted to meet me because I’m the mayor, and I didn’t think anything of it. In hindsight, I think that because Hans is rich and powerful, he wanted to get on my good side or vice versa. You know, get the mayor in his back pocket. But at the time, I didn’t realize that was what he was doing.”
He paused and let out a sigh, rubbed his eyes, and then met Kate’s gaze.
“He complimented my politics and asked me how much longer I would be in office. Kate, I was thinking about all the money he had and how he could help boost the economy. I swear I had the welfare of Rock Ridge in mind—”
“It’s okay, Dean. Just tell me what happened.”
“Hans kept coming back to town to visit. We met each time. Then, a few months ago when he bought the land out east and hired my construction company and you to build his mansion, he wanted to take me out to celebrate. He said there weren’t enough high-end bars around town, so we drove in his limo over to New York City. He brought me to a club. That’s where I met Taylor Rheingold; he owns it. We went into a private VIP room, and Cherry was our cocktail waitress.”
Mrs. Fix It Mysteries: The Complete 15-Books Cozy Mystery Series Page 134
