Hot Money

by Sherryl Woods

  Molly knew that this time it was no idle threat. Hal was dead serious. “No, it’s not the same,” she said gently, recalling Hal’s halfhearted attempts at persuading Brian to choose him over her in the past. “But it won’t happen, not unless it’s what you want. You’re old enough now that the judge will listen to you, if it comes to that.”

  Brian was across the room in a heartbeat. He flung his arms around her neck and clung to her, his whole body shaking. “I won’t go with him. I won’t. I never want to see him again as long as I live. I hate him. I hate him.” His voice trailed off in sobs.

  “Oh, baby,” Molly whispered, her own tears finally streaming down her face. What in God’s name was wrong with Hal that he could inflict this kind of pain on their son? “You won’t have to leave here. I promise.”

  Admittedly, her promises didn’t have such a hot track record, but apparently Brian was reassured anyway. His tears finally ebbed. He slowly extricated himself from her embrace and gave her a wobbly grin. He was far calmer than her pat, clichéd words warranted.

  “I don’t want you to worry about this,” she told him.

  “I’m not worried, not anymore,” he said with admirable bravado.

  “Why not?” she inquired suspiciously.

  “Because I have an idea that will fix everything.”

  “What idea?”

  “If you married Michael,” he said slyly, “Dad wouldn’t be able to take me away, would he?”

  Molly gaped at him. “Where on earth would you get an idea like that?”

  “He likes you. I know he does. And he’s not married. It would solve everything, right?”

  Marriage to Michael O’Hara might solve one problem, but Molly was smart enough to know that it would only be the start of a whole slew of new ones. She could hardly explain that to an eight-year-old. “Sorry, sport,” she said with some regret. “I think this is one problem we’ll have to sort out on our own.”

  She hadn’t counted on the fact that Brian was like a terrier with a bone once he’d gotten an idea into his head. When her phone rang that afternoon the minute she walked in the door from work, she was hoping it would be her attorney with news that Hal had backed down. Instead the voice that greeted her bore a faint Cuban accent and a definite hint of laughter.

  “I understand we’re getting married,” Michael said.

  “Oh, dear Lord,” Molly murmured, blushing in embarrassment. “Brian called you.”

  “He did. He was upset, but you should be proud of him. He wasn’t letting it get him down. He has a plan, a rather detailed one, in fact.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Michael’s tone sobered. “I think maybe the three of us ought to have dinner tonight and talk about this.”

  “Michael, no. I can handle Brian.”

  “I was thinking less about Brian, than I was about you and your ex-husband. What are you going to do about him, Molly?”

  She sighed heavily. “I’ve spoken with the attorney. He’s trying to reason with Hal’s attorney, who happens to be one of his law partners.”

  “I wasn’t aware that attorneys ever listened to reason.”

  “I’m hoping for a first, for Brian’s sake.”

  “I think you’ll need a tougher strategy than that. I have to interview some witnesses in one of my cases in about an hour, but I should be out of here by seven at the latest. Why don’t I pick you up? We’ll go for Italian at that place in South Miami that Brian likes.”

  “Fine,” Molly agreed because she couldn’t think of one single reason not to go. If Michael wasn’t terrified by Brian’s marital scheme for the two of them, then it was silly to avoid him. Besides, she always thought more clearly when she talked things out with him. Maybe together they could formulate a sensible plan of action. His methodical, left-brain approach nicely complemented her own more instinctive reactions to things.

  No sooner had she hung up than she heard a rap on the door, then Liza’s familiar voice, followed almost immediately by the sound of the key turning in her door. She regarded her in astonishment. Liza was rarely home this early from her various fund-raising efforts all over town. She had more meetings to twist arms than half a dozen CEOs combined.

  “What brings you back from the fund-raising wars at this hour?” she asked.

  “I have news to report.”

  “Roger Lafferty is suspect number one in the murder of his wife.”

  Liza’s face fell. “The hunk told you.”

  “He did, but even if he hadn’t it was all over the paper this morning and on the TV and radio news all day. If you’d pay attention, you’d have known that.”

  “I know enough about what’s going on in the world without letting the media bias me.”

  Molly knew it was pointless to hike down that particular conversational trail again. Liza was stalwart in her refusal to subscribe to the papers or turn on a television. Despite that, Molly was always astounded by how well informed Liza was about the things that mattered to her.

  “What happened to you last night?” Molly asked instead. “I expected you to report in the minute you got home.”

  “Actually I went to that benefit dinner with Jason Jeffries. I was hoping to pry more information out of him.”

  “Information or money?”

  “Both, as a matter of fact.”

  “Well?”

  “He gave me a sizable donation.”

  “And?”

  “He didn’t tell me anything more than he apparently told Michael and Abrams. Roger got way over his head when he tried to take over some company in California. Tessa continued to spend money like there was no tomorrow. A few weeks ago he supposedly took out a new life insurance policy on Tessa, though nobody has actually seen said policy. Suspicion is that he intended all along to use the money to put his company back on a sound financial footing before the irritated stockholders ousted him, Jason being one of said stockholders.”

  “What about Ted Ryan’s information that Roger planned to divorce Tessa?”

  Liza shrugged. “Beats me. Either he got it wrong or that was an alternative plan, whereby he’d try to wrangle a chunk of her family money in a settlement.”

  “Do you suppose Tessa had any family money left after all this time? I thought that was why she kept latching on to all these wealthy men, so she could take ‘em for a bundle in alimony. If she had her own money, wouldn’t that hurt her position in getting some kind of obscenely huge divorce settlement?”

  “I have no idea what the workings of the court are when both parties in a marriage have money. I do know that Jason’s generous alimony ended on the day she married again. He told me that last night.”

  Molly considered that. “I suppose Josie might know for sure what Tessa’s financial status was. She was pretty certain that her boss had provided for her in her will.”

  “Wouldn’t it be a kick in the pants to Roger, if all that money from the life insurance was willed to the housekeeper?”

  “I doubt Roger would have paid the premium under those conditions.”

  “Unless he didn’t know about the will. Couldn’t that supersede the name on the policy?”

  Molly shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  “I know you and your ex aren’t the closest of friends, but he is an attorney. Couldn’t you call him and ask?”

  The morning’s events came crashing back. “Absolutely not,” she said so vehemently that Liza simply stared.

  “What’s Hal done now?” she said finally.

  “He’s threatening to take me back into court to ask for custody of Brian.”

  Liza jumped up, her expression instantly sympathetic. “Why didn’t you say something when I first walked in, instead of letting me go on and on about this ridiculous murder? What can I do to help?”

  “There’s nothing to be done for the moment. The attorney’s handling it. Brian thinks he has a solution. He’s asked Michael to marry me.”

  “Oh, dear Lord,” Liza said, t
hen a grin spread across her face. “Did the hunk say yes?”

  “We’re all having dinner tonight to discuss it.”

  “My, my.”

  “Don’t give me that speculative look, Liza Hastings. I am not marrying anyone just to keep custody of my son. And I seriously doubt that Michael O’Hara considers it an option either.”

  “Are you sure? You know how he feels about family, especially mothers and sons.”

  Molly knew. After he was separated from his mother and sent to the United States to live with relatives, he was practically obsessed with the subject. “He’s also a cop who feels very strongly that he’s a bad bet when it comes to marriage,” she said. “He doesn’t even have relationships.”

  “What about that woman he lived with, Bianca?”

  “The way he tells it, she expected more than he ever intended.”

  “He certainly took his time extricating himself if that was the case. Ergo, they had a relationship.”

  “I think what they had was mutual lust. Until she got possessive, he probably saw no reason to back away.”

  Liza grinned. “Then you’re in luck. That’s what he has with you, too.”

  “Not so you’d notice,” Molly countered, feeling oddly disgruntled. She pushed aside the feeling. “This is ridiculous. Why are we discussing it?”

  “Because your son has proposed in your behalf and now you two are going to have to figure out what to do about it.”

  “Maybe we can just sit around and figure out if Roger really killed Tessa, instead.”

  “If you would rather discuss murder than marriage with the hunk, you are in serious trouble,” Liza observed. “I think I’ll leave so you can work on your priorities before he gets here.”

  “Before you go, there’s something I still can’t get out of my mind.”

  “What’s that?” Liza said.

  “When I found Tessa’s body the other night, I looked all over the place for you and I couldn’t find you anywhere. Where were you?”

  Liza’s expression immediately shut down. “You asked me that before.”

  “I know, and you avoided answering me. You’re doing it again. Why?”

  Liza sighed and sat back down. “Because I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

  “What on earth could be worse than thinking that you might have had something to do with Tessa’s murder?” Molly said incredulously. She waited anxiously while Liza apparently considered whether to answer.

  Refusing to meet Molly’s worried gaze, Liza finally confessed, “I was upstairs in one of the bedrooms—the Cathay, to be precise.”

  Molly regarded her closely and realized it was embarrassment, rather than guilt, that had kept Liza silent. “I think I’m getting the picture,” she said.

  “I doubt it,” Liza said ruefully. “I can’t believe how naive I was. For God’s sake, I have traveled around the world and back on my own. I have challenged world leaders on their environmental policies. I’ve even ducked out on amorous suitors in a dozen languages. And I still fell for one of the oldest lines in the book.”

  “Meaning?”

  “One of the guests said he wanted to speak with me privately. I assumed he wanted to discuss setting up an endowment or at least increasing his already sizable donation. I suggested we take a walk around the grounds, but he insisted it would be quieter upstairs in the mansion. Who knows, maybe he’d always wanted to get it on in an elegant room done by some European artist who’d never gotten over a visit to China.”

  “It is a seductive room,” Molly said cautiously, recalling the soft jade-and-gold decor, the drapes of fabric that provided a suggestion of a canopy for the narrow bed.

  “Obviously he thought so. The minute we were inside, he was all over me. The last guy who tried to grope me with so little finesse was a college student. I was nineteen at the time.”

  Molly was horrified at the thought that one of the guests at a fancy gala would attack a woman in an upstairs bedroom. “He didn’t …” She couldn’t even bring herself to phrase the entire question.

  “Are you kidding? You don’t think I took all those martial arts classes for nothing, do you? The second the first shock wore off, I flipped him off the bed, pinned him to the floor, and suggested that the size of his donation be tripled.”

  “He agreed, naturally?”

  Liza allowed herself a faint grin. “He agreed.” Suddenly the grin faded. “Of course, it’s possible that his check is no good.”

  Molly regarded her in shocked disbelief as she realized what Liza was implying. “Roger?”

  “Roger,” she confirmed. “Not that I blame the poor bastard. Being married to Tessa would be enough to drive any man to extreme measures.”

  Molly understood now why Liza had been so insistent that she go with her to the Lafferty house the day before. She also realized why there had been such an odd undercurrent between the two of them. “Liza, you have to tell Michael about this.”

  “No way,” Liza said adamantly. “I refuse to embarrass either one of us by spreading this incident around.”

  “You have to,” Molly insisted. “Why?”

  “Don’t you see? You’re Roger Lafferty’s alibi.”

  CHAPTER

  TEN

  The realization that she was Roger Lafferty’s alibi had obviously never occurred to Liza. It seemed to have put her into a state of shock.

  “Surely, you realized if he was your alibi, then you were his?” Molly said.

  “I never thought of him as mine. I would have gone to jail before I’d ever tell a soul that I was lured to a bedroom by that man.”

  “Don’t you think you’re being a little melodramatic? ‘That man’ is a wealthy, prominent businessman, not some creep off the streets. Besides, it wasn’t as if you actually slept with him. When you realized his intentions, you put him down … literally.”

  “Maybe so, but he apparently thought I would be amenable to his advances. What does that say about the lengths to which people think I’ll go in the name of environmental activism?”

  Molly shook her head. “I doubt Roger was planning to buy his way into your bed. I suspect he simply had the hots for you. He certainly wouldn’t be the first man to find your combination of brains and beauty to be seductive.”

  “Maybe,” Liza said doubtfully.

  “Liza, just because you are oblivious of the way men look at you, I am not. In fact, it is sometimes very difficult being your friend. We walk into a room and all male eyes focus on you. I’m just part of the scenery.”

  “Obviously the hunk doesn’t see it that way.”

  Molly allowed herself a tiny smirk of satisfaction. “No, he doesn’t. He seems to be immune, for which I am incredibly grateful. But that’s beside the point. You have to talk to him when he gets here and tell him what happened with Roger.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, do you want me to tell him? Or maybe you’d rather talk to that Miami detective, the one who probably lifts cars in his spare time to stay in shape. He certainly looks as if he’d take the news that you were withholding evidence well.”

  Liza shuddered at the thought of sharing her most embarrassing moment with Detective Abrams, just as Molly had known she would.

  “Okay, you win,” she conceded with obvious reluctance. “I’ll tell Michael.”

  His arrival, as if on cue, prevented her from changing her mind.

  “Tell him,” Molly prodded, the minute Michael had a beer in his hand and a comfortable spot on the sofa. Liza looked as if she preferred to wait until he’d finished the beer, maybe several beers.

  “Tell me what?” he said, regarding them both suspiciously. “Don’t tell me one of you is confessing to the crime.”

  Molly glared at him. “No.”

  Liza squirmed awkwardly, her expression miserable. “Look, this isn’t really easy for me, but I do have a confession to make. Not about the murder exactly, but about Roger Lafferty. He couldn’t have do
ne it.”

  “Oh?”

  His bland response got Molly’s attention. She regarded him curiously.

  “I was with him,” Liza blurted. “I’d rather not go into the circumstances, but there is no doubt in my mind that he couldn’t possibly have killed Tessa.”

  Molly waited again for Michael’s exclamation of surprise, maybe even a curse at the loss of the number one suspect. Instead, he merely nodded. “I know.”

  Liza and Molly both gaped at him.

  “What do you mean you know?” Molly demanded.

  “Know what?” Liza said.

  “I know that he dragged you off to the Cathay Bedroom in the wild hope of seducing you. I also know it didn’t work.”

  “He told you,” Liza said dully.

  “After a lot of prodding. One of the other guests saw the two of you disappear into that bedroom. She rather gleefully reported that fact to Detective Abrams. He’s been waiting to see how long it would take for the two of you to come clean. Roger caved in first. I’m not sure if he was more humiliated that he’d tried or that he’d failed. Anyway, he told all. Less than an hour ago, as a matter of fact. I talked with Abrams right after he left the Lafferty house.”

  “If somebody blabbed, why the hell didn’t Abrams just ask for confirmation?” Liza grumbled.

  “Because it doesn’t really matter. We don’t know exactly how long you were in that room or the exact time of Tessa’s death. Sorry. Neither of you is out of the woods yet.”

  “Wait a minute,” Molly protested. “We do know the time of death or pretty close to it.”

  Michael’s gaze narrowed. “Explain.”

  “It was just after nine when we arrived. We saw Tessa, with Liza in fact,” she said, trying to reconstruct the sequence of events. “Don’t you remember? The photographer from the morning paper was taking pictures. Tessa was there, very much alive, preening for the camera in fact. Then Liza came over to talk with us. It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes after that when we got to the edge of the bay and I found the body. That makes it nine thirty, nine forty-five at the latest.”

  Molly shivered as she realized how little time Tessa had spent tangled in the mangrove before she’d discovered the body. Was it possible they could have saved her, if she hadn’t taken time to go back to the car for that flashlight? It was not something to be dwelled upon.