“Really?” Sloane began edging Michael toward the door. “Has she remarried?”
“No. She’s an actress. Or a want-to-be actress. Right now she’s in a fabric softener commercial. You might have seen her on TV. She has these great big green eyes and gorgeous auburn hair halfway down her back. They have her running through a meadow waving her fabric softener sheet.”
“Auburn hair running through a meadow. Umm, sounds lovely. I’ll have to look for it, although I don’t watch much television.” Sloane almost bumped into Michael as he tried to hasten him along to the front door. Michael heard a car door slamming outside. The date had arrived early, and Sloane didn’t want this deputy intruding on his evening, blathering on about a dead girl’s lovers. That would certainly put a chill on the evening, Michael thought, almost smiling. Caldwell wanted him out. Now.
Too late. The doorbell rang. Sloane opened it. Michael peered past him to see a woman wearing a smile and a beautiful cashmere coat. “I’m early, but I saw the police car,” she said lightly to Sloane. “I thought you might need a lawyer.”
“I don’t think things are that dire,” Sloane said. He ushered her in. “Monique Lawson, Deputy Sheriff Winter. I’m sorry. I don’t remember your first name.”
“Michael,” he nearly choked out. Monique Lawson looked enough like his ex-wife, Lisa, to be her older sister. “How do you do, Miss Lawson?”
“I prefer Ms.” She extended her hand. It was surprisingly large and strong and her gaze direct to the point of being unpleasantly searing. “Michael Winter. You moved into your grandparents’ house.”
“Yes. My grandfather left it to me when he passed away last year.”
“And you decided to abandon Los Angeles for Winston? Why?”
Sloane looked uncomfortable. “Monique, I really don’t think that’s any of our business.”
“I’m curious, that’s all.”
“I wanted a change of scene,” Michael said tersely. The woman’s intrusive manner immediately put him off.
She gave Michael a penetrating look. “I hope there’s no trouble here.”
“None whatsoever,” Michael said. “I just had a couple of questions for Mr. Caldwell.”
“But you’re done now?”
“Yes.”
“Good,” Monique said emphatically. “We have a lovely evening planned with friends at the Tudor Rose Restaurant. Ever been there, Deputy Winter?”
“No.”
“You should go. It’s one of the best restaurants in the state.”
Sloane Caldwell gave him a meaningful look. “I hope I was of some help, Deputy Winter, but we are running late. It was a pleasure meeting you. Good evening.”
And get lost, his tone said. Michael bristled inside at the dismissal. He couldn’t resist adding, “Oh, Mr. Caldwell, there’s something I meant to tell you earlier.”
“What is it?” Sloane snapped, nearly pushing him out the door.
“Patricia Prince was found dead this afternoon. We think she was murdered.”
3
Christine stared at her brother openmouthed for a full five seconds before she managed, “Patricia had a boyfriend she met in the barn?”
“Yeah.” Jeremy’s face reddened. “I knew I shouldn’t tell anyone, but I guess it doesn’t matter now if I tell you. But you shouldn’t tell anyone else.”
Christine leaned back in her chair. “Jeremy, what makes you think Patricia had a boyfriend she saw in the barn?”
“One afternoon I came home early. You remember that day I had the upset stomach? Anyway, I saw Patricia going down to the barn. I thought she was going to ride Sultan and I stayed at the window awhile to see her riding him, but she didn’t come out. A long time later, a guy came out of the barn. I couldn’t really see his face. He acted sort of sneaky. He went away from the barn toward the river without ever looking back. Then a little while later, Patricia came out. When she got to the house and found me there, she said the vet had been in to look at the horses, but she was all nervous and stuttering and guilty-looking.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean the man in the barn was her boyfriend.”
“Her hair was messed up and her makeup was gone and her blouse was buttoned up all wrong.”
“Oh. Did you get any sense of what the man you saw leaving the barn looked like?”
“No. He had on a jacket with a hood. It was beginning to rain a little. Anyway, one Sunday Ames went somewhere and I was supposed to go with him, but I changed my mind right before he left. Patricia wasn’t in the house and I went down to visit the horses. I went in the barn and I heard music coming from up in the loft. And I heard, well, noises.” His face grew redder. “Moaning and stuff. And I heard Patricia say, ‘I love you,’ and I heard a man’s voice. I sort of recognized it, but not exactly, ’cause the music got louder. I guess I should’ve yelled to them that I was there, but I was too embarrassed and I knew Patricia would get really mad at me, so I just took off.”
“Jeremy, how long ago was that?”
He frowned ferociously. “Around Valentine’s Day. I remember ’cause Danny Torrance’s little sister sent me a valentine. She’s only nine, but she says she wants to marry me. She’s so funny. That’s how I remember.”
“So that was almost two months ago.”
“I guess.”
“Jeremy, are you sure you have no idea who Patricia was meeting in the barn?”
“I don’t know. Well, maybe I do, but I just can’t get it. You know what I mean? When you think you know something, but it won’t come, no matter how hard you think?”
“Yes, I know that feeling.”
“But since she met her boyfriend in the barn and she died in the barn, maybe it’s real important that I make it come to my mind, that I make myself think of who it was.”
He rubbed a hand across his forehead. He got headaches when he was upset. Christine could tell one was coming on, and she wasn’t going to push him further. “Sometimes when I can’t think of something, I just try to put it completely out of my mind for a while. Then, at the oddest time, up it pops!”
“Really? You think maybe that would work for me?”
“I’m sure of it. Just stop thinking about Patricia.”
“I’ll try.” He sighed. “But, Christy, there’s something else. I think maybe Patricia knew I knew about her boyfriend and didn’t want me to tell, because she got a lot nicer to me after I was in the barn that time. She even sang on the karaoke machine with me, even though I’d asked her to a hundred times and she’d always said no.”
“She sang with you?”
“Yeah. She tried to sing like Jewel. She was pretty bad, but I told her she was good anyway.”
“You always tell me I’m good, too.”
“Yeah, but you aren’t as bad as Patricia.”
“Thank you, kind sir.”
“Hey, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s not that you’re not good—”
“It doesn’t matter, Jeremy. I’m not a good singer.” Christine paused. “Not like Dara was.”
“Yeah, Dara was real good. I even made tapes of her singing.”
“Tapes?” Christine repeated, a shock going through her. “You made cassette tapes of Dara singing?”
“Yeah. Sure.” Jeremy suddenly looked alarmed. “There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“No, of course not.”
“Her favorite thing to sing was ‘Rhiannon.’ And she sang a couple of songs called ‘These Dreams’ and ‘Walkin’ After Midnight.’ I can’t remember who they’re by.”
“The group Heart and Patsy Cline. But I want to know about a particular song she sang.”
“Which song?”
“I don’t know it. I never heard it before, but I have the words.” Christine dashed to the desk where she’d placed the paper on which she’d written the words to the song someone had played over the phone the night she was in the hospital. She rushed back to the table. “I’ll read the lyrics and you tell me if yo
u recognize them.” Jeremy gave her that wide-eyed look that said he was afraid he was in trouble, but she had his full attention. “I can’t remember the melody. I just wrote down the words.”
“Yeah, okay, say them already. You’re creepin’ me out.” Christine read slowly:
“ ‘Everywhere I go
Dark eyes peer at me.
I wish they meant me love,
But I know they desire me harm.
I want to live long and full,
But sadly, I am certain that
All too soon, death waits for me.’ ”
Christine looked up at Jeremy. “Well? Do you recognize them?”
Jeremy’s face had paled and his eyes widened. He nodded. “I think it was the last song Dara ever sang on my karaoke machine. She wrote it. It was so sad—not like her other songs.”
“But you taped it?”
He nodded again. “Yeah. I didn’t really want to ’cause like I said, it was so sad. But she made me tape it. Twice.”
“You mean she didn’t like the first version and taped over it a second time?”
“Nooo.” Jeremy was looking more and more frightened. “She asked me to make two tapes. I kept one. She took the other one.” His forehead puckered. “Are you sure I’m not in trouble? I didn’t mean to do anything wrong.”
Christine reached over and touched his hand, smiling. “No, honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. I just got excited because this is important. What happened to the tapes?”
Jeremy looked down. “I . . . I don’t remember. It was a long time ago. And right after she sang the song, she went away. Everybody was all to pieces and the days after sort of seem like a dream or something.”
“But you keep the tapes you make in a special place.”
He nodded. “Uh-huh. But Dara took one of them, like I said.”
“Jeremy, I want you to look for your copy of the tape.”
His voice rose. “Why? I don’t get why you care so much about that song.”
“I just do. But not because of anything you did wrong, understand? Just because I want to hear the tape again.”
“Again? When did you hear it? Dara never let you listen to her music and I didn’t play it for you.”
Christine looked at her fearful brother. She didn’t want to tell him the truth, but he could always tell when she was lying, and at this point a lie would scare him more than the facts. “Someone called me late at night. They didn’t say anything. They just played the tape of Dara singing this song. Then they hung up.”
Jeremy’s mouth slackened. “Really and truly? You didn’t dream it?”
“How could I dream about a song I’d never heard?”
“Oh gosh,” Jeremy fretted. “Oh golly. It would be just like Dara, singing to you in the night. Christy, this is too creepy.”
“It sure is. That’s why I want to find out who could have that tape and played it to scare me. I want you to look for your copy of the tape.”
His gaze grew even more miserable. “I already did. After they found that body and Ames said it was Dara, because I wanted to hear her sing again.”
“And?”
“And all the tapes of her singing were gone. I didn’t lose them, Christy, honest,” Jeremy assured her fervently. “I’m real careful with my tapes. But they weren’t there. Maybe she took them when she left. Only I guess she didn’t really leave. So maybe someone else took them. They weren’t a big secret or anything. Patricia heard us singing on the karaoke machine. And Ames. Maybe other people. I just can’t remember the last time I saw the tapes. I’m real sorry, Christy.”
He sounded completely sincere, and it wasn’t like Jeremy to lie. But he could be forgetful. He’d made the tapes three years ago. He could have misplaced them in all that time, no matter how much he cherished them. That’s the best spin she could put on the situation. At least it was the least frightening. Jeremy was looking at her warily. “It’s okay, Jeremy. The tapes aren’t that important.”
His fingers twisted together as trouble churned in the beautiful blue of his eyes. “Hey, Christy?”
“Yes?”
“I think maybe the tapes are important. Could the person who played you the tape on the phone have killed Dara and taken her tape away from her?”
“I suppose that’s possible,” she said reluctantly.
“Then why would he play the tape to you on the phone late at night?”
“Maybe to play a joke.”
“What kind of joke is that?” Jeremy demanded. “It’s not one bit funny.” He paused. “Christy, I think maybe he did it to scare you. But why would somebody want to scare you?”
To get me to stop nosing into Dara’s death, Christine thought grimly. To get me to back off, stop searching for a killer, so that most people in town would go on thinking that you, my darling brother, murdered Dara Prince.
CHAPTER 15
1
Christine felt as if she were struggling up from deep water. Pressure. Coldness. Dark. Then her world grew lighter, lighter, and lighter until she opened her eyes and realized she’d been asleep and it was morning. Nine-thirty, to be exact. She hadn’t slept this late for months.
For a few minutes she lay still, staring at the ceiling. She thought about Patricia. Yesterday at this time she’d been alive, maybe excited about seeing a man she loved. Now she lay cold and stiff in a morgue. And Christine thought about the message on her answering machine saying tonelessly, “Poor Patricia. See what happens when you find out too much?” What had Patricia found out? Who killed Dara? Exactly the same thing Christine was trying to find out? And if she did, would her fate be the same as Patricia’s?
At last the sound of the television penetrated her consciousness and she remembered that Jeremy had spent the night. She’d told him she thought now was the time for him to move in with her permanently, and although he’d demurred weakly, saying maybe Ames would need him now that Patricia was dead, Christine was certain he’d seemed relieved. He couldn’t have relished the idea of living with an even gloomier Ames in that large, somber house.
When she went downstairs, she found Jeremy sprawled on the floor in front of the television. Rhiannon sat on his back tangling a delicate black paw in his blond hair. “What are you watching?” she asked.
“News.”
“Since when do you watch the news instead of cartoons in the morning?”
“Since we got a flood. The weatherman says the river crested last night. That means the water went as far up as it’s gonna go. Now it’s on its way back down. The flood’s over and we don’t need to pile up any more sandbags.”
“Hallelujah.”
“Think maybe we can open the store now?”
“Not until after Patricia’s funeral, Jeremy. It wouldn’t be proper.”
He looked slightly downcast. Christine was not sure whether his fallen mood was caused by a reminder of Patricia’s death or the knowledge that the store wouldn’t open for a few days. “Have we lost too much business at the store?” he asked. “Are we going to the poorhouse?”
“It would take a lot more than a few days of lost business to put Prince Jewelry into bankruptcy.” Jeremy frowned, not understanding. “We’re not going to the poorhouse. Where did you hear about the poorhouse, anyway?”
“Wilma. She’s always saying to Streak’s brother, ‘You’d better stop spending all your money. The poorhouse is right around the corner, Mr. Big Shot.’ He gets mad when she says that. Anyway, I’m glad Prince Jewelry isn’t losing all its money, ’cause I don’t want to lose my job. I love my job.” Jeremy smiled. “I made coffee!”
“I know.” As Christine walked into the kitchen, the smell alone burned the inside of her nose. One cup of Jeremy’s coffee could set you jittering for at least two hours. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings by emptying the pot and fixing a fresh one, so she mixed equal parts of milk and coffee like espresso. The result tasted nothing like espresso. She shuddered as she forced down a second sip. At least the stron
g brew was eye-opening.
Jeremy came into the kitchen. “Maybe I should go tell Ames I’m gonna move in here with you now.”
“I think I should be the one to do that,” Christine answered quickly. She did not want Ames’s bitterness at her spilling over onto Jeremy. She also feared the slim chance that Ames might plead with Jeremy to remain in his house, either out of genuine loneliness or possibly out of a desire to hurt Christine. Two days ago she would not have considered Ames capable of such petty cruelty. Now she didn’t know what to expect of him. “If you do it, he might think you’re not happy living with him.”
“Well, I’m not really happy living there,” Jeremy said meekly.
“I know, but we don’t want to hurt his feelings. I’ll make it sound like it’s all my idea and I just insist that you move in with me now. After all, you’re my brother and I’ve fixed up a room for you and Rhiannon is here. He knows how much you love Rhiannon.”
“That all sounds real good,” Jeremy agreed. “And it’s true.”
“Yes. I won’t be lying. I don’t know how things will be at the house today because of Patricia’s death, but I still think I should talk to him about your moving no later than this afternoon. You can hang out here with Rhi.”
“Christy, I’d rather go to the store.”
“The store is closed today.”
“I know, but there’s something I want to work on.”
“Jeremy, you sound like you did the other morning when you were so determined to go in early. You’re working on something secret, aren’t you?”
Jeremy’s gaze shifted. “Okay. It’s a secret. But it’s nothing bad.”
“I didn’t think it was.”
“It’s just something special that I wanted to do all by myself without Rey helping me. So will you let me go to the store alone like the other day? I won’t lose the key, I promise.” He crossed his heart. “I’ll guard it with my life—”
“All right. Let’s have some breakfast, then get dressed, and I’ll take you to the store while I go to Ames’s house.” She tried to sound chagrined. “Oh gosh, we’ve drunk all the coffee! I’ll have to make a fresh pot.”
If She Should Die Page 25
