Suspect Lover
Page 9
Nora sat up straighter in the hard metal chair.
“The tire treads taken from the scene match the brand of tire typically sold on a Mercedes.”
“Really,” Nora muttered. “So why do you look so unhappy?”
“Because the only tape we have of Santos leaving the building is at 5:00 a.m. the next morning. Walking out through the lobby.”
“Hmm.”
Mark looked up at Nora. Saw the obvious confusion in her face. “It’s not out of the question that he knew how to get in and out of the building without being picked up by the cameras. He’s an ex-con, remember? He knows how to be careful.”
“But he didn’t think of that when he drove by a camera to follow Haskell?”
“It’s the only way out of the garage.”
“You said he walked out the next morning. No car. You haven’t found the Mercedes?”
“No.”
“If he used it to push Denny’s Porsche off the road, the likelihood is that he would have dumped the car somewhere.”
Mark agreed.
“Let’s play it out. We know Haskell and Santos argued about something that afternoon. Santos goes back to the office again and Denny is there. They continue their earlier battle. Maybe Haskell found out about the altered financial statements. Quickly Santos decides he has to kill him. He sneaks out of the building without being picked up by the cameras, then manages to get to his car without being seen…”
“That’s conceivable,” Mark interrupted. “The garage is the first floor of the building. It wouldn’t be hard for someone to get over the wall and drop into the garage out of sight of the cameras. There’s only one at the elevator and one at the entrance and exit.”
“Okay, so he sneaks out of the building and back into the garage in time to follow his target. Then he tails him for what thirty, forty minutes?”
Mark mentally timed the drive from the office to the spot on the cliff where Denny went over the edge. “About right.”
“Pushes him off the road and over the cliff. There has to be a mark on his car. Paint scratches, something. So he dumps the car. Where?”
“Who knows? Down the road a ways. Over another cliff.”
“This would mean he would have to have had another car waiting to take him back to the office, which eliminates our idea that it was a spur of the moment decision. He couldn’t walk back and be there in time to take Steven’s four-thirty call. Maybe he phoned for a cab. They keep logs.”
“I’ll check with cab companies.”
“Or he drove back to San Jose and dumped the car somewhere close to the office. Then he snuck back into the building again without being seen. We have to assume he’s really rattled at this point, which is why he doesn’t destroy the doctored books. They’re the only motive we have for why he might have killed Denny. I mean he was sitting in front of his computer when Ford called. We know he checked the financials. Yeah, he was definitely flustered.”
Mark sneered at her. “You know, I don’t think I like you anymore.”
“Yes you do,” she said cheekily. “You should concentrate your search for the car in the area around the office building. Because it will be there somewhere if Santos is your guy.”
Mark frowned. What she laid out made perfect sense. Perfectly convoluted sense. But the biggest problem Mark had was digesting the fact that someone who had made the decision to kill as quickly as Dominic managed to pull it off so flawlessly.
“You know all he’s going to need for an alibi is proof that he was still in the building at the time Denny’s car was going over the cliff. A phone call. An e-mail. The computer time-stamps them.” Nora leaned back in the chair.
“The forensic guys are checking out his computer. And we’re waiting on the phone company for calls from the office as well as Santos’s cell and Haskell’s cell.” Mark pointed a finger at her. “You know, if I didn’t know you better…”
“You don’t know me at all, Detective.”
“I’m getting to,” Mark assured her. “I would say you seem almost smug. It’s like you know this guy is innocent and you’re just waiting for us to find that out.”
“How could that be?”
“Good question. Got an answer?”
Nora checked her fingernails. “Nope. I told you I’m just here to observe and report back to my superiors.”
“That is what you told me.”
Nora feigned offense. “Why Detective, I think I’m insulted. I believe you’re insinuating that I’m not being completely forthcoming.”
“Oh, not at all. I’m calling you an out-and-out liar.” He got up from his desk. “I’ve got other cases that need my attention. Until I hear back from the phone company or unless our guy shows up, there’s really no need for you to hang around here.”
Nora stood up, too. “First you call me a liar and now you’re kicking me out,” she grumbled. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
“Go sightseeing, shortcake.”
“Have I not warned you about the ‘short’ thing?”
“I like to live dangerously,” he said and waved to her as she snatched up her purse and strolled out of the police station.
As soon as he saw the glass doors close behind her, he reached for his phone.
Chapter 10
Caroline dropped her suitcase inside the foyer of her dark house and felt Munch brush past her as the dog went in search of new smells. The trip had been one of the most excruciating ordeals of her life. Between the guilt she felt in leaving, the anger she felt at being told to go and getting a one-hundred-pound-plus Lab across the country, she was spent.
Looking down at the lone suitcase she’d quickly packed, she wondered if she would ever go back for the rest of her things. Wondered if he would ever come for Munch. She tried to tell herself that her only option was to take his dog. After all, who else would care for her? Caroline had easily dismissed his dog sitter as an option because she wanted Munch with her. It was only fair.
He broke her heart. She took his dog.
Relationship justice.
The laptop joined the suitcase with about as much ceremony. The story she had barely started was tucked safely inside, but she had no interest in working on it. It was a murder mystery and the sleuths were a husband and wife. When she’d conceived it she’d played with the idea of turning the book into a series.
Now the story of a husband and wife investigating a murder was too nonfiction for her tastes. She would write again. Wouldn’t she? Caroline decided not to answer the question while her mental battery was giving her the low-power warning.
A week. She would give it a week and then she would miss him a little less. In a month and she might look back on all of this and realize she’d made a fortuitous escape. Perhaps in a year she’d find the humor…
No. She’d never laugh about her marriage.
Leaving the bags where they were, she headed upstairs. There was no point in flicking a light switch as she’d had the electricity turned off weeks ago. As familiar as she was with the house, she knew her way around in the dusk. Fall was hitting the east coast at a rapid rate if the orange and red leaves were any indication. Just past seven in the evening there was enough light to guide her up the stairs and down the hall to the room that had been her bedroom for so many years.
Caroline knew she’d stripped the bed before she’d locked up the house but she would find what she needed in the linen closet. Some sheets. A familiar blanket. A soft pillow.
Sleep first and think later. Eventually she and Munch would need to eat, but not for a while. In a few hours she could deal with having to move back into her empty home. In a few hours she might be able to concentrate on something other than the empty space in her soul.
A soft roof behind her had her jumping a bit as Munch rushed past her up the stairs. Having apparently sniffed out the downstairs she was ready to tackle the second floor. Caroline climbed the last step when she heard a sharp bark from one of the guest rooms.
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This bark wasn’t a curious smell bark. It was an I found something bark.
No doubt a squirrel or raccoon or some other small animal had made its way into the empty house looking for warmth as temperatures started to dip. The idea of summoning the energy to get the thing out of the house was so daunting that she began to think about leaving and crashing at her neighbor’s. But facing her friends meant answering questions and she didn’t want to do that, either.
Another bark. This one even louder.
“What is it, Munch? Is it a squirrel? Don’t be afraid. Remember, you’re bigger.” Caroline rounded the doorway prepared to deal with the furry intruder when the shift of a shadow stopped her heart.
Too big. Too big to be an animal.
As soon as the thought registered, she turned to run. An arm snaked out and caught her around the waist hauling her backward against a large hard body. Another hand circled her mouth cutting off her attempt to scream. Not that she had the air left to make any sound.
Then a voice. Rough and soft in her ear. His voice. “Don’t scream. I won’t hurt you.”
Her last thought before she drifted away into oblivion was that he already had.
The first thing that registered was the feel of the washcloth on her brow. A memory of when she’d first come to this house, after her parents’ funeral, surfaced. Caroline had cried herself sick that day until finally she’d collapsed with exhaustion. Her aunt had washed her face with a cold washcloth to ease the swelling around her eyes. She could almost hear the soft voice telling her everything was going to be all right.
But that was years ago. This was now.
Caroline opened her eyes and screamed.
Instantly a hand dropped over her mouth and a large and heavy body followed. She felt crushed by him. In the pitch black she couldn’t see his eyes, could only make out the harsh lines of his face. Her breath was trapped in her lungs and she struggled to shake him off.
Dominic was an immovable object on top of her.
Her legs brushed against his jean-covered thighs and only then did she realize that he’d removed her clothes. She was wearing nothing but her shirt and panties. Her sense of vulnerability increased and so did her struggles.
“Stop it,” Dominic whispered in her ear.
Caroline relaxed her body, not because of his demand but because there was no point in trying to move him. She lay motionless and felt every inch of his body against hers. Including his erection that was pressing into her stomach.
“If I take my hand away, you can’t scream. Your neighbors are close and I don’t want to take the chance of them hearing anything.”
She nodded. Eventually he rolled away and quickly left the bed. His back was to her as he checked outside her window looking for any disturbances. Eventually he turned and walked toward her. When she slid away from him to the center of the bed, he stopped.
“You’re frightened,” he said to himself in a disgusted tone.
He lit a candle on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. It seemed as if he was waiting for her to make the next move.
She had no clue how to react. “I don’t know what to say to you, Dominic.”
“Then don’t say anything,” he replied. “You’re exhausted. You fainted.”
“I didn’t faint.” Fainting sound so weak. So out of control. Cowards fainted. And she couldn’t have the conversation she needed to have with him if she was a coward.
“I scared you. I’m sorry. There is nothing to be afraid of.”
She couldn’t name the emotion that she was feeling right now. Strangely it wasn’t fear. Rage, maybe. Pain. Sorrow. And, damn it, hope.
She was an idiot.
“Why? I mean…What? I don’t…”
“Shh,” he said again. Two fingers covered her lips in a request to silence her. Even after everything that had happened, her heart fluttered at his touch. The urge to purse her lips and kiss those fingers was almost irresistible. “I’ll answer everything. I promise, Caroline. But not now. You need to sleep.”
“I can’t.”
“Please,” he asked or ordered, it was hard to know. He nudged her over more toward the center. She watched as he stood and kicked off his sneakers and pulled off his T-shirt.
She wanted to tell him to stop. That she didn’t want to even look at him much less sleep with him, she was so angry. But in the candlelight, his movements seemed a little stilted and she decided he was just as tired as she was.
She knew he wasn’t a murderer. She had no idea what his other crime had been, but he’d never hurt her. It was probably insane, but she didn’t have the words to stop him.
Not that it would have mattered. He lay down on his side next to her and he pulled her body into his chest. She smelled the faint hint of soap and the full-on scent of Dominic. The comfort she felt as his arms wrapped around her and a leg settled between hers was enough to bring tears to her eyes.
“I can’t do this,” she cried softly, struggling a little against his hold.
His arms tightened and his lips pressed against her temple. “Shh, shh. It’s going to be all right. Later. I’ll answer everything later. I promise. Sleep with me now, Caroline. It’s been so long since I’ve slept. I need you to just sleep with me for a while. Then we’ll talk.”
She could hear the plea in his voice and it stopped her internal struggles more than anything else. The idea that he would verbalize any weakness was new to her. She suspected it was new to him, as well. Already she could feel the rise and fall of his chest. The sound of steady breathing in her ear.
There was no way she was going to sleep. There were too many things to think about, too many questions she needed to prepare for him to answer. But they could wait. For now, he needed some rest.
Closing her eyes, she tried to think about everything she had to ask him, but the heat from his body made her drowsy and the soft rumble of his snore made her mind wander. With his hand pressed against her heart, she fell asleep, too.
The sound of a steady rain hitting against the glass woke him. The dull light outside the window told him it was early morning. They had slept for almost twelve hours.
He turned his head and studied the face that lay against his shoulder. He could feel the warm breath hitting his skin and his world came back into focus. If he could have shouted his relief he would have. With a finger, he brushed a lock of blond hair from her forehead and traced the insignificant line in her brow, one that had probably deepened in the last few days with worry.
God, he’d missed her. There was no point denying it. Yes, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Their marriage was supposed to have been an arrangement. A sensible, logical business transaction. But from the first glance at her picture, the first e-mail, the first time he heard her voice and the first time he sank his body deep into hers, he knew.
She was different.
He wondered if she would remember one of the last things she’d said to him was that she was falling in love. He remembered. It stayed with him every hour of every day. It kept him moving and plotting for a way out of this mess.
He had no illusions that her feelings would still be what they were now that she knew about his past, but he wasn’t ready to let her go. Somehow he’d made her fall in love with him once. If she let him try, maybe he could do it again.
As if hearing his thoughts, Caroline blinked her eyes open.
Their eyes met and the silent communication was so intense he was sure he could hear her speaking. He wondered if she could hear him in return.
You need a shave.
Thank you for taking care of Munch.
I missed you.
Yes.
Without thinking, Dominic leaned forward until their lips met. He pulled her deeper against his body and wondered if he would have the power to let her go if she resisted him.
She didn’t. Instead he felt her arm around his back, felt her mouth open beneath his so that he could taste her, penetrate her, breathe her in.<
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He’d missed her. So damn much. He wanted to be inside her so she would absorb the pain. Replace it with pleasure. He wanted to erase Denny. He didn’t want to grieve his loss. Didn’t want to be frustrated or angry anymore because someone had done this to him. He didn’t want to be afraid any longer.
And he was frightened. Frightened he was going to lose this. Lose her.
The kiss deepened and Dominic rolled onto his back, taking her with him. Her legs tangled with his thighs and he wished he’d shucked his pants as well as his shirt so that he could feel her soft thighs against him. He cupped her bottom and pulled her close against his hard sex and her hand rested over his heart.
He knew she could feel his body pounding, throbbing underneath his skin, and he was glad. He needed her to know how desperately he wanted her. How he had never wanted another woman like this before.
Then the hands that rested on his chest began to push instead of caress.
“No, I can’t do this. I’ll forget,” Caroline muttered pulling away from him, lifting out of his arms.
Dominic sighed and let his head drop against the pillow. He was desperate to stop her from moving away. A quick jerk of her wrist and she’d be stretched out flat against his chest. Another twist and he’d have her on her back. A button undone and a lowered zipper and he’d be pushing inside her warmth.
With everything he’d learned about her in the last month, he could woo her. Seduce her. Prove to her that their connection was special and could survive anything. He could win back her love.
If not her trust.
Selfish. He wasn’t thinking about her at all, really. Just himself. Just that he needed her. She had a right to back away.
Hell, she could walk out the front door and call the police if she chose. And as much as the idea of the police made him sweat cold, he knew he wouldn’t stop her. The next move was hers. Her call to do whatever she wanted because none of this, not from the first moment he’d signed up with that damn matchmaking service because he needed an incubator for his child, had been her fault.