The Michaela Bancroft Mysteries 1-3

by Michele Scott

  Gag. Sure. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

  "Come on in. Ethan is in the kitchen giving Josh his bottle." She grabbed a purse from the coat closet next to the front door. "I have to run out right now. Sorry I couldn't visit. Next time."

  "Sure, no problem. Nice to see you, too."

  Michaela felt relieved. It was so weird between them. Anyone who'd been watching the two of them exchange pleasantries could see that they were both being fake with each other. There was no love lost between them. She couldn't help wonder if Summer's exit had to do with her coming over.

  "Mick? That you?" Ethan appeared from around the corner into the hallway of what Michaela referred to as the mini-manor, which was as perfect as Summer—decorated to a tee. Not a color mismatched, not a speck of dust anywhere.

  "Hi."

  Summer walked over to Ethan and the baby. "I have to go. See you later. Bye." She gave them each a peck on the cheek It seemed odd for a mother to be almost cold with her son, not to mention her husband. But again, none of her business. "Bye, Michaela." She waved and was out the door, a breeze blowing past as she shut it behind her.

  Michaela turned to Ethan. "Everything okay?"

  He shrugged. "Oh yeah, fine. Everything's great. How about you?"

  "I already told you on the phone that I'm okay. I'm hanging in there." Josh's eyes were at half-mast as he sucked down a bottle. "He's getting so big."

  "And heavy to lug around. Come on." He led her into their family room, painted in cream and a soft peach—once again, way too Summer for Michaela. He laid Josh down in his playpen. "Let's go see the horse real quick. He's asleep."

  "Will Josh be okay?"

  "Sure. I always lock everything up, and he can't get out of there."

  She nodded and followed him out to the barn, feeling odd in her heels and black dress, but nevertheless wanting to see Ethan's new horse.

  "Here's my boy." They stopped in front of one of the stalls. The horse padded over to them, his ears pricking forward, his eyes bright and intelligent. He stood about fifteen hands, sorrel in color with four perfect white socks and a blaze down the center of his face.

  "He's beautiful, Ethan. Oh my God." Michaela brought a hand up to touch the soft nuzzle on the horse.

  "He is. What do you think? Want to work with him?"

  "Of course. I'd love to, but Ethan, I can't think much past tomorrow right now. Who knows what will happen with this Sterling Taber thing? I might be going to jail."

  "No you won't. That won't happen." He shook his head. "It can't."

  "But…"

  She started to say that it could. He brought a finger to her lips. "No more of that bull about you going to jail. Life is just beginning for you, and this horse will be a part of it. Okay?"

  "Okay," she uttered, and for the first time in several days she didn't feel afraid.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  MICHAELA LEFT ETHAN'S PLACE FEELING ODDLY relieved. He was always the optimist, and spending time with him and Josh had rubbed some positive vibes her way. She hadn't killed Sterling Taber, and justice would prevail. It had to.

  Dwayne's truck was gone. He must've driven to the tack shop to help Camden out. She was happy that the two of them had been able to move beyond Camden's past. Once this mess was behind her, she would have to start planning a bridal shower for her friend. She decided to take a break and sit outside with a glass of iced tea, put her head together, and then see about going over to Ed Mitchell's jewelry store to talk with Tommy Liggett.

  She changed into a pair of jeans and light sweater. Thankfully the November days were growing cooler. In only a couple of weeks Thanksgiving would be upon them, and God, how she prayed this whole mess would be over by then. She would go to her parents, like she did every year. She and Mom would bake apple and pumpkin pies and have some of Mom's friends from church over. There would be the usual fare of garlic mashed potatoes, turkey, cranberry sauce, green beans, and what Michaela always made best: a black cherry Jell-O dish from a recipe her grandmother had passed down. Grandma had died a little over five years ago and was sorely missed; and then they'd spent the first holiday season without Uncle Lou last year, which had been real tough on all of them. But Camden and Dwayne would be there. Ethan wouldn't. Hell, maybe she should invite Ethan and Summer. She needed to get past the animosity. What about Jude and Katie? She would have to invite them. Why did even the holidays have to be stressful?

  She knew Jude would be back tomorrow. How was he going to take all of this? It was strange, but she really hadn't had time to miss him. She'd been so wrapped up in this drama. She had missed the sense of security he provided, and she knew he might've been able to handle Peters's attitude toward her, but she didn't feel that deep sense of longing. It had to be because of the drama that had taken place over the course of the week.

  She took a long drink of the tea and closed her eyes, then heard something behind her and sat up. Carolyn Taber stood a few feet away, her hand inside her purse. It took a second for Michaela to register who it was. The woman had raccoon eyes from mascara dripping down her face. "Why did you do it?" Carolyn sputtered.

  "What are you doing here?" Michaela asked, standing slowly. Did Carolyn have a gun in her purse?

  "Sterling!" she screamed. "Why did you kill him?"

  Michaela shook her head. "I didn't kill him and I suggest you leave, Mrs. Taber. You're trespassing."

  Why hadn't she gotten a new dog yet?

  Carolyn's face turned a dark shade of red, her plastic-surgeoned nose pinching. "Yes, you did. Everyone knows you did. Why?"

  "You're insane. You need to leave."

  "Not until you tell me why you murdered him."

  "Where's your husband, Mrs. Taber?"

  "On his way home."

  "Does he know about the affair you and Sterling were having? Weren't you supposed to be heading home with him? Is that why you're here? Did my comment about you starring in a film tip him off?"

  "No. I told him that I wanted to stay and shop, then go to Los Angeles and do some more."

  "Right. I didn't kill Sterling. I know about the affair. I have proof of it, and the police know about it, too." She was bluffing, but maybe by doing so she'd smoke out Carolyn Taber.

  The woman looked ghastly, to say the least. "No, please tell me that you did not give those to the police!" She started to pull something from her purse.

  "No!" Michaela yelled, but then realized that the woman was opening up a checkbook, her hands shaking.

  "Tell me that you didn't give those to the police. I will pay you for them. How much do you want?"

  "Yes, I did give them the tapes."

  Carolyn's hands shook even more with this revelation. "You had the last set. I talked with Sterling and we worked things out. He said that he'd destroy the other tapes for me. He promised me. I know he did it. I believed him. He loved me! I can't believe that he gave a set of those tapes to you and you gave them to the police. What have you done to me? You've ruined me. You have completely destroyed me! You will pay for it."

  Michaela wasn't about to tell her that she'd stolen the tapes from Sterling's house. She didn't figure that would be a good idea. Carolyn Taber spun around and stormed away. Somehow she was convinced that Sterling's sister-in-law would make good on her threat, and she also realized that she now had no choice but to turn those tapes over to Peters.

  TWENTY-NINE

  MICHAELA PUT IN A CALL TO PETERS, WHO wasn't at the station. She left a message. What to do? Well, she still wanted to talk with Tommy Liggett. She called the jewelry store, but the woman who answered said that Tommy was on a break and would be back in about half an hour. Frustrated, she slipped on a pair of riding boots and headed out to the barn, where she took Leo out and lunged him for a bit. Watching his smooth, clean lines, his taut muscles move through each pace diligently, was meditative in a sense. His hooves pounded repetitively against the dirt as he moved in a forward circle with each stride. He tossed his delicate head into the air an
d blew hard, his nostrils flaring as she pulled the lunge line taut and urged him to whoa. His long dark mane lay against his face and neck. She leaned her forehead on his and felt tears sting her eyes. She would get her life back, for her horses and for herself. As soon as she saw Jude she would hand over the tapes and plead for his help. He could help her with this. Thank God he would be home in the morning.

  She cleaned Leo up and put him away. Her legs were like Jell-O, and it seemed as if she'd had the wind knocked out of her. This week had torn at a remote part of her soul—so much ugliness, seediness, scandal, and cruelty. If she put feelings on it, vocalized her thoughts, she'd knew she'd break down. Exhaustion engulfed her. She planned to take a shower and then talk to Tommy Liggett.

  She stepped under the running water, and once again her mind traveled back to the events of the past few days. The polo mallet. Was the murder premeditated? Or was it a "heat of the moment" thing? Say it was premeditated. No, that didn't jive. Her mallet was a convenient weapon. A premeditated murder would've meant someone would have planned it, brought a weapon, and bam! But that's not what happened.

  Who had been angry at Sterling that day? Then again, who hadn't? Juliet was angry. Did she know about Lucia? Oh, and what about Lucia? Here was a girl who'd told the cops that Michaela was sleeping with Sterling, which was so far from the truth it was laughable. And Mario's car…and the wig? What was that all about? Those two could have been in cahoots, or the three Sorvinos—Pepe included. Ed Mitchell told Pepe that his daughter and Sterling had been fooling around. Pepe would've gotten upset and maybe he went to Mario. What if Pepe confronted Sterling? Followed him into the back office where Sterling was going to change, things got out of hand, Pepe hit him with the mallet, then went to get Mario. Michaela didn't recall seeing Pepe around after she'd found Sterling, and in those few minutes when Mario went to see if Sterling was dead and Michaela called the cops, could Mario have wiped off the mallet? But her fingerprints had still been on the mallet. Pepe could've been wearing gloves. It was a good theory. It fit. The only thing that did not fit was, why would any of them follow Michaela around?

  What about Erin Hornersberg? She'd gone looking for Sterling before the match, became angry with him before the show, and didn't care at all when he'd shown up dead. She'd been very uncomfortable with Camden and the women's visit. But this was a woman who did, in all respects, come across as slightly off. Maybe she should consider questioning Erin again, only this time she would take Joe with her.

  And what about Carolyn Taber? She hadn't even been at the event. Or had she? Michaela wouldn't have known who she was at the time. There were a lot of people around that day, and if she'd been there she would've blended in with the rest of the crowd. Had she snapped over the videos? Sterling had said on the tape that she didn't need to bother destroying them, because he had more sets. Were the tapes that Michaela had the only ones left? Carolyn had been willing to pay for them. Had she also been willing to kill for them?

  These were all angles that she still needed to look into. She rinsed the shampoo out of her hair and turned off the water. Pulling back the curtain to grab her towel, she screamed and jumped back when she saw who was on the other side of the curtain, now staring at her buck naked.

  THIRTY

  "JUDE!" SHE PULLED THE TOWEL FROM THE RACK and quickly wrapped it around herself. "What in the hell are you doing?"

  "I could ask you the same thing."

  "Excuse me? You weren't supposed to be back until Friday."

  "When Katie and I were in our last port, I called in to the office and heard about what happened. We flew straight home."

  "Jude! Why did you do that? You didn't tell Katie, did you?"

  "Of course not. She's a little angry with me, though. I told her that I had to get back for work."

  "A little angry? I don't blame her. I'm angry, too."

  "You're angry because I came back to try and help you?" He looked totally incredulous.

  He also looked good. How she could think that just then, she wasn't sure, but she couldn't deny that the tan he'd gotten on the cruise highlighted his blue eyes, and his hair had bleached lighter in the sun. She wanted to reach out and touch the lightened waves. "I'm upset, that's all, that you would cut your trip short because of me."

  "Come on, Michaela. The woman who I'm dating has been arrested for murder and I'm not supposed to get home as fast as I can to help? Why didn't you contact me?"

  "You were in the Caribbean on a cruise."

  "There are ways to get messages to passengers, you know. I wasn't off the planet."

  "I know, but honestly, I didn't want to ruin your trip."

  He sighed. "Why am I not surprised? And why am I also not surprised that this has happened to you?"

  "What do you mean by that, 'not surprised that this happened to me'?"

  She stormed past him, embarrassed and upset that he had the gall to enter her bedroom, then her bathroom, unannounced, and now he'd seen her in the buff. They'd shared some passionate moments together, sure, but they hadn't ever been naked together, and right now she felt like he had an unfair advantage, which she did not appreciate. And dammit, what did he mean that he wasn't surprised about her situation?

  "It's not as if you run from murder. You're a modern-day Sherlock Holmes."

  She turned on her heel and shook a finger at him, almost losing her towel. "That is so unfair, Jude. I don't go around looking for murder. I can't help what happened in the past and I certainly can't help this situation."

  "You still should have called me."

  "Oh please. That would've been selfish. You were on your vacation, for God's sake, and with Katie. I couldn't have done that to you, much less to your little girl. I had hoped that by the time you got home this would've all blown over and then we could've laughed about it. Besides, what would you have done if I got a hold of you in the middle of the ocean? You would've gotten on the first plane back home and stormed in here and tried to save me as if I'm a damsel in distress. Thank God you didn't find out until today. At least you had some of the week to enjoy yourself."

  "Aren't you a damsel in distress, though?"

  "No. I'm a very capable woman. I can take care of myself. I don't need rescuing. I don't need the white horse and Prince Charming. And honestly, that's been a problem for us all along. You seem to feel the need to take care of me."

  "Maybe that's because you need a man to take care of you."

  "What! Please. You don't know me that well, then."

  "What I know is that there is some pretty incriminating evidence against you for a murder that, knowing you as I do, I can't believe you would have ever done. I don't plan to save you, Michaela. Why do you keep fighting me? Resisting me? All I want to do is help. That's what people who love each other do. They are there for each other. But I have to wonder if you even want my help. You're always pushing me away, and this is only the latest incident."

  Wait a minute! Love! Love? When did that ever come into the picture? He'd let that one slip. Oops, and she decided that she'd let it fly by, pretending that she hadn't heard it, but dammit, why was there a lump of emotion tightening at the back of her throat? She was not ready for this.

  He walked over to her. "Michaela, let me help you."

  "I need to get dressed," she said.

  "You do?" Jude traced the top of her towel with a finger.

  "Yes. And we're arguing."

  "No, we're not."

  "Yes, we are."

  "Can we go back to it later?" He kissed her neck.

  "Jude, the timing is off. I don't want our first time to be…well, make-up sex."

  "There is nothing wrong with make-up sex. And I may have been upset with you, but seeing you in the shower and having you yell at me kind of turns me on."

  "Yeah, you shouldn't have seen me in the shower. How did you get in? You scared me."

  "I'm a cop. I think I know how to get into a home. We need to get you an alarm system. You never know who will snea
k in and suck the blood out of you." He sucked on her neck like a vampire. It tickled and Michaela couldn't help but laugh. "I can make you smile even more."

  She sighed. He kissed her on her neck again, his fingers traced the edge of the towel wrapped around her. Feelings she hadn't been in touch with for a long time traveled through her, and she stopped thinking. She allowed Jude to keep kissing her as she dropped her towel.

  THIRTY-ONE

  "YOU DID WHAT?" JUDE ASKED. "OH THIS IS NOT good, Michaela! Damn! I could arrest you. I should arrest you. Breaking and entering? You stole the tapes? What were you thinking?"

  They stood in her kitchen making sandwiches. The afternoon had turned into evening and they were both hungry.

  "Arrest me? Please. I didn't want to keep it from you—and doesn't all of this show you that Peters is heading in the wrong direction with this investigation?"

  "Maybe, but what you did by breaking into Taber's home was a crime. And you did this alone?" He raised his eyebrows.

  That was the only part of the story that Michaela felt she had to omit. She could not expose Joe. He had gone out on a limb for her more than once. He'd given her the opportunity with the riding center and was always there when she needed a friend. No, she could not betray his trust.

  "Yes," she replied. "I did it, and I'm not sorry either. What am I supposed to do, Jude? Stand by and let Peters see that I rot in jail? He's not doing anything as far as I know to find out who really killed Sterling. It's me he's after."

  Jude stared at her. "This isn't the first time you've gone searching for answers where murder is concerned. The last time you almost got yourself killed."

  "I know that. But this is the first time that my freedom is on the line and you and me…I mean, us…aren't we in a relationship? Because it sure felt like it over the last few hours. Like we'd taken that next step. We won't be taking any more steps if I'm in jail. You said that you came home to help me, and now you're thinking I should be arrested for trying to find out the truth."