by Mallory Kane
It was obvious she’d stirred up old secrets and fears. She felt sure that one of the people who’d overheard her phone call to Misty had attacked her. Someone with a big secret to hide.
Speaking of phone calls, she wasn’t waiting another minute for Cade. She retrieved her cell phone, dialed Information and got the chief of police’s cell number.
Just as she was about to press Call she heard a banging on the door.
Cade.
She threw the door open so hard it crashed against the wall. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “It’s late.”
His eyes flashed and his mouth turned up into the crooked grin that knocked her socks off every time. “I’m fine, thanks. How’re you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Sorry. Good morning. We need to question all the members of the Reunion Committee.”
Cade sidestepped her and closed the door. “I stopped and talked to Mrs. Gardner.”
“Who?”
“The elderly lady across the street from Misty. She’s the one who called me yesterday to report that someone was lurking. You. She told me people had been lurking around the street all day. So I wanted to find out what she knew.”
“And—?”
“All day turned out to be twice.”
“Twice?”
“Yeah. It fits. She saw movement around Misty’s house at six and then again around eight o’clock. But she couldn’t identify anyone. Apparently she doesn’t see so well. Speaking of eyes—”
His hand on her arm surprised her.
“Let me look at yours.”
“My eyes are fine. I told you—”
He placed his hands on either side of her head and examined her face and eyes. His warm palms cradled her cheeks protectively, and his blue gaze swept across the sensitive skin around her eyes like the ghost of a touch.
She’d already examined her face in the mirror, so she knew that although the swelling and redness were better, she looked as if she’d been on a crying jag.
“They still hurt.” His words were a statement, not a question. His gaze was soft, and it drifted down toward her mouth.
Laurel swallowed hard. She was getting way too into his gentle concern. She backed up and pushed his hands away. “I’m fine. I’ll wear sunglasses and tell people I have allergies.”
She started to put her cell phone into her purse, then thought of something. “Give me your cell phone number.”
“What? So you can call me at the crack of dawn?”
She opened her mouth to retort, but he held up his hand. “That was a joke. Here.”
They exchanged numbers.
“Thanks,” Laurel said as she checked her backup weapon and stuck it in the paddle holster that rested at the small of her back. “I don’t suppose you’ve set up interview times with the Reunion Committee?”
He propped an arm on the mantel and sent her an irritated glance. “Not yet. I figured we could go by my dad’s and check out the pictures he found.”
Her pulse jumped. “He found pictures already? In all that mess?”
“He gets up early.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She grabbed the doorknob and flung the door open, then looked back at him, catching him staring at her bottom. He hadn’t moved from his slouch against the mantel.
“Well? Are you coming?”
He muttered something under his breath. She thought it was not a chance.
CADE FOLLOWED Laurel out to his pickup. She was determined—he had to give her that. Her eyes were still swollen and bloodshot, but she hadn’t complained at all. All her concentration and energy were aimed at finding out who had attacked her friend and her.
He opened the passenger-side door and stood back to let her climb in. Her skirt was knee-length and slim, and it rode up her thigh as she stepped up onto the running board of the pickup and into the cab. She glanced at him quickly, then smoothed her skirt, tugging on the hem.
He shut the door, a smile playing around his lips. Another fact about her—she dressed in what women used to call the power suit. He supposed it helped her feel and look more businesslike and competent, but she couldn’t bring herself to completely hide her femininity. If she really wanted to play up her competence and play down her looks and sexuality, that skirt could be a lot looser and longer, and her shoes could have lower heels.
He went around and climbed into the truck and took off. It only took about three minutes to get to his dad’s house. Cade didn’t look forward to introducing Laurel to him. He couldn’t be sure what Dad would talk about. He might tell her about Cade’s experience with the FBI, or he might go off on a long discussion about James.
Cade was also a little afraid that she might have trouble understanding his father, and he did not want his dad embarrassed if she got impatient.
However, he needn’t have worried. She charmed his father, and seemed to be charmed by him. They bent over the photos together, leaving Cade craning his neck to see. He finally gave up and went into the kitchen and made coffee.
Then he called to set up interviews with Kathy Adler, Debra Evans, Mary Sue Nelson and Ralph Langston, sipping his coffee as he listened to their tirades about how busy they were.
When he brought coffee to his dad and Laurel, they were laughing about something. Cade felt a twinge of jealousy. He hadn’t seen his dad laugh since his stroke. More accurately, since James died.
Laurel grabbed the coffee cup as if it were a lifeline. She wrapped both hands around it and took a long swallow. It seemed to transform her.
“Ah, that’s good.” She smiled at him. “Unfortunately, I’m addicted.”
Cade nodded. “We’d better get going. We’ve got our first interview in—” he checked his watch “—ten minutes.”
“Really? Great!”
Cade took the box of photos from his dad and stuck it under his arm. “I’ll run these by the station and lock them in the evidence room on our way.”
“Good. Now I won’t have to worry about them any more.” She took another hefty swallow of coffee. “Mr. Dupree, I have to know what kind of coffee this is.”
To his surprise, his dad took her by the hand and led her into the kitchen. “It’s a blend. I mix a pound of medium-roast Arabica with a quarter pound of Jamaican Blue Mountain. Then I put in a few tablespoon of hazelnut flavor blend.”
“Wonderful. I’ll try that. The touch of hazelnut is inspired.” After reluctantly setting the cup down, she turned and held out her hand to his dad. “Thank you so much. We couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Glad to help. The bigges’ mystery I solve these days is where my golf ball rolls. Come back to see me.”
Laurel leaned over and kissed his dad on the cheek. “I will, and I’ll be on the lookout for dark chocolate-covered cherries.”
His dad’s eyes lit up. “Tha’d be great.”
As she passed Cade going out the front door, he murmured, “Dark chocolate cherries?”
She sent him a smile over her shoulder. “His favorite. But you know that.”
A twinge of sadness hit his chest. He rubbed it. “His favorite? I thought he bought them for—” He bit off the rest of the sentence. For James. Just like everything else.
Laurel did a double take. “Sorry, what did you say?”
“Nothing.” He opened the front door for her. “Dad, bye,” he called. “I’ll see you later.”
As he followed her to his truck, he pushed aside thoughts of his brother. Concentrating on Laurel’s well-rounded backside helped.
“So what’s your favorite?”
“Huh?” He almost plowed into her. In a finessing move worthy of a gold-medal ice skater, he managed to avoid a collision while at the same time sliding around to open the passenger-side door of the pickup.
“What’s your favorite candy?”
Great. Now his brain was back where he didn’t want it to be. He had a vision of his dad coming home with a box of dark chocolate cherries and James grabbing for them. He didn’t bot
her to answer her.
When they were in the truck, Laurel tapped the box Cade had set on the console between them. “Your dad did a great job. He found a couple of shots that Misty’s dad took that were a wider-angle than mine. You need to look at them. A lot of them were burned too badly, but there are a couple that the FBI lab should be able to analyze. Not only can you see the ring in the photo, but there’s a portion of a face. I can’t tell who it is. I’m hoping the lab guys can enhance it enough to recognize.”
“FBI lab?” Cade took a corner more aggressively than he needed to. “So did someone put you in charge?”
“I was going to ask you again about requesting the FBI’s help.”
Irritation crowded up into his chest, squeezing it. “With what?” he snapped. “A flimsy theory about a ten-year-old picture?”
“Setting aside for the moment that the Unsolved Mysteries Division is in the business of reinvestigating old cases, we also have two assaults in the same night, plus a fire intended to burn the pictures that support my flimsy theory. So you might want to pay attention to it.”
Her voice was cold, but he heard an undercurrent of something he couldn’t identify. “And you might want to stop right there. I don’t have to let you sit in on these interviews.”
“No, you don’t. And I don’t have to wait for your request. If I present my flimsy evidence to my boss, he’ll get me assigned through the governor if necessary.”
“I didn’t say your evidence was flimsy.”
“Oh, right. Big difference. Flimsy theory—flimsy evidence.”
He kept his mouth shut as he turned onto the road to the creek bank.
“I remember this. Too bad this road wasn’t paved when we were in high school.”
Cade glanced over at her. The road below the old high school had always been a popular parking spot. “Spend a lot of time parked down there?”
Her cheeks turned pink. “No. But I’m sure you did.”
He’d been down there a few times, but he’d always felt that making out with a girl while other kids were doing the same a few feet away was a little sleazy. “You’d be surprised,” he muttered as he pulled up in front of the Visitor Center.
Laurel stared at the building. “This is Ralph’s Visitor Center?”
Cade gestured. “See where they’re breaking ground? By the time they’re done, the Swinging Oak and the swimming hole will be history. Hell, knowing Ralph Langston, he’s liable to put a fountain in the bend of the creek.” He sighed. “Still, the convention complex should be good for Dusty Springs.”
“You almost sound like you believe that.”
A scowl marred his handsome features. “Let’s go. We’re late for our first interview.”
“Why are we questioning them here?” Laurel asked, as she climbed out of the truck.
“The party’s tonight. They’re going to be working here all day.”
“Oh, and heaven forbid the CeeGees or Ralph, the moneybags, be inconvenienced. Fine. Who’s first?”
“Kathy. She’s got a hair appointment this afternoon.”
“Wow. She really is working hard,” she drawled. “Wouldn’t want to let a police investigation interfere with her day.”
Cade stopped her at the door. “Look. I get how you feel about these women. Am I going to be able to count on you to be professional? If not, I can’t have you in the room.”
“Sorry.” She felt her face burn. She didn’t like being reprimanded by him. “I would never say anything in front of a witness or a suspect. I was just venting.”
He opened the door.
Laurel stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Cade, can we keep Wendell’s death out of it until we’ve had a chance to look at the photos?”
He looked through the glass door as if he were thinking about it. “No problem,” he finally said.
When they entered, Kathy was pacing in front of a small conference room with an unlit cigarette in her hand.
“It’s about time, Cade. I told you I could spare you ten minutes.” She looked at her watch. “Half of that’s already gone.”
She started to put the cigarette in her mouth, then looked at it and muttered a curse. “I’m so tired of these no-smoking buildings,” she complained as she dug in her purse and came up with a cough drop.
Laurel noticed Kathy’s hand shaking. She watched her closely as Cade apologized for being late and held the door for her. She looked better than she had the night before—barely. Her makeup was smeared and her eyes were puffy. She’d been drinking already.
Kathy laid down her unlit cigarette as Cade explained why he was questioning her.
“I didn’t see anything. I didn’t hear anything,” Kathy said, crumpling the cellophane wrapper.
“Hang on just a minute, Kathy.” Cade reached in his pocket for a miniature tape recorder and set it on the table. “Do you object to being taped?”
“Would it matter if I did?”
“Kathy, I need your cooperation.” Cade leaned forward. “You’re a leader in this town. If people see you doing the right thing, they will, too.”
Kathy actually preened at Cade’s words. “Well, I trust you. You won’t ask anything that might embarrass a lady, will you?”
Cade’s mouth widened into that killer grin as he pushed the record button and recited the necessary identification and date and time stamp information.
“Have you been inside Misty’s house?”
“Well, of course. I was at the Reunion Committee meeting on Monday. Are you trying to trick me, Cade Dupree?”
He shook his head. “You walked up the street to check on Misty when the EMTs arrived, didn’t you? What did you do after that?”
“You know what I did. That officer of yours walked me home. I read for a while and then went to sleep.”
“So you didn’t hear the car alarm go off later? Your house is only three doors down from Misty’s.”
Kathy shrugged. “What can I tell you? I’m a sound sleeper.”
I’ll bet, Laurel thought.
Cade leaned back in his chair. “What about Harrison? Did the car alarm wake him up?”
Kathy’s mouth thinned and lines appeared around her lips and nose and forehead. “I have no idea.”
“You don’t know if your husband woke up when the alarm went off?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, Cade Dupree, but no. Harrison was in his study, passed out from brandy as usual.”
She straightened her shoulders, glanced at Laurel for the first time, then stood. “I have to leave now. Please try not to take up too much of everyone’s time. We’re trying to put out all the last-minute fires before the big party tonight.”
“One more question. Where were you around six o’clock yesterday evening?”
“Six o’clock?” For a split second Kathy looked blank, then she blinked. “Was that when Misty was attacked?”
“Do you remember where you were?”
She looked at the filter tip of her cigarette. Her fingers trembled. “I was at home.” She took a deep breath. “Taking a nap.”
“Alone, I take it.”
She blinked slowly and touched her finger to the corner of her lip, as if smoothing her lipstick. “Of course.”
“Thanks, Kathy. Send in Ralph.”
Kathy eyed Cade. “Well, aren’t we all Law & Order?” She turned.
“Kathy,” Laurel said, pulling a business card out of her purse. “There’s my cell phone number. Let me know if you think of anything that might help us.”
Kathy took the card between two fingers as if it were tainted. She stuck it in her purse without looking at it or at Laurel, then she swept out the door.
“She’s been drinking,” Laurel whispered to Cade.
He arched a brow at her. “You just figured that out?”
“No. I figured it out last night.” Laurel wanted to stick out her tongue at him or give him some other rude adolescent gesture but she restrained herself. “But drinking in the morning
? She’s a mess.”
A wrinkle appeared between Cade’s brows. “Sometimes I wonder if she’s as big a mess as she likes to appear. I have a feeling it suits her to be underestimated.”
“Well, she’s obviously an alcoholic.”
“What do you think about her alibi for yesterday evening? Taking a nap—alone?”
“I don’t believe it. You know her. She’s hardly charitable about her husband. Could she be having an affair?”
Cade shook his head. “More likely she was passed out.”
The door opened and Ralph Langston blustered in.
Laurel was surprised. Skinny, nerdy Ralph from high school had changed—a lot. Here was one classmate she would not have recognized. She studied him as he shook Cade’s hand and then hers. He’d had some kind of plastic surgery. His jaw looked more square. He had more hair than he’d had in school, too, and the pullover shirt and khaki pants he wore revealed muscular arms and abs and thighs. He must have gained sixty pounds since she’d last seen him—and it looked like it was all muscle.
He sat at the head of the table and glared at Cade and her like a boss about to reprimand his employees.
“So, Cade. What can I do for you?”
“When did you get into town?”
Ralph sat back in his chair and smiled. “Come on, Cade. I’ve been in and out of town for weeks, supervising the building of my convention center. Just cut to the chase. Where was I last night? I’d be happy to tell you, if I’m being charged with anything. Otherwise, I’ll keep my mouth shut. To do otherwise would compromise a nice woman.”
“You’re saying you were with a woman last night? For how long? Give me the specifics.”
Ralph certainly had the young executive act down. He had the suit, the body and the hair weave. But he was creeping her out. He was too smooth, too coy.
“We met at eight, had dinner, and then—” He glanced at Laurel. “Let’s just say I left after midnight.”
