What had Beau said? Most motives end up being about love or money.
But to get herself in this deep, without a plan already in place … it seemed Lila wasn’t quite as sharp as she thought she was.
“Tell Beau to stop by some day.” Rico’s voice startled her and she jumped about a foot. “We still miss him around here. Tell him I’ll take him out for a beer or something.”
“Will do. Thanks, Rico. You’re one of the good guys.” She gave the young deputy a hug and left.
* * *
Sam left the sheriff’s department, pondering what she’d just discovered. Her car went toward the Victorian, almost on automatic, and she arrived at Kelly’s driveway without actually remembering all the roads and turns. Who needed a driverless car?
Scott called a loud “Come in” when Sam approached the kitchen door.
“What, all by yourself in the kitchen?” she asked. “And … baking?”
“Kel asked me to brush some oil over this loaf of Italian bread and get it into the oven. That’s the sum total of my baking skills, I assure you. The girls are upstairs, our bedroom I think, and I’m afraid to go in there.”
“Well, have fun with the bread. Don’t forget to set a timer.” She headed toward the foyer staircase. What had he meant—afraid?
Raucous laughter greeted her at the top of the stairs and she followed the sound to the master bedroom. Kelly and Scott had stripped off the dark, Victorian-era wallpaper, refinished the original hardwood floors, and redone the color scheme in soothing tones of taupe with purple accents. What caught Sam’s eye was movement at the doorway to the adjoining bath, where Ana came tumbling through the doorway in a fit of giggles.
“Silly mommy,” she shrieked, pointing toward the bathroom sinks when she spotted Sam.
“Hey, pretty girl. What’s silly mommy up to?”
“You have to see her hair!” Ana spun in a circle and then dashed into the bathroom.
Sam followed.
The vanity top was strewn with hair gear—a dryer with diffuser on it, a flat iron, a half-dozen clips, and four bottles containing who-knew-what types of gels and other products. The carved box, Manichee, sat amid the chaos. Kelly stood in front of the mirror, surveying her mass of curls, which now resembled a reddish brown explosion gone horribly wrong.
“This did not go the way I envisioned,” she said.
Sam suppressed a laugh—the sight was truly comical. “Two questions: What, exactly, did you envision? And, um, this isn’t permanent, is it?”
Kelly gave a hard stare into the mirror, then a bewildered gaze at all the gear on the vanity. “You know what, you’re right. I didn’t quite start with a clear vision. And no, thank god, it’s not permanent. I’d be better off to wash this out and start over.”
“And this experiment came from … where?” Sam picked up the box and lifted the lid. It was empty.
Kelly gave Ana a sideways glance.
“From me! Mommy wanted to look like Karsheean.”
“She overheard us talking about … you know, earlier. And I said the name Kardashian, and she asked who that was, so I showed her some pictures. And she said my hair would be very pretty all long and wavy like that … and the rest is history.”
“Yeah, natural curls like yours aren’t exactly easy to tame into long and wavy, are they?”
“Not to mention, my hair isn’t long, never has been past my shoulders, and probably never will be—not like those photos.”
“Ah well, I say you give up on the experiment and let’s go make some tea or something.”
Kelly’s eyes widened. “I am not going downstairs with—with this!”
“Even after nearly five years of marriage, you’re conscious of your appearance around Scott. That’s cute.”
“I’ll shower this off and be back to myself in ten minutes. You girls can go start the tea.”
Ana grabbed Sam’s hand and led the way. Scott had apparently gone back to his study, and they made their way, unseen, to the kitchen where the Italian bread was smelling heavenly. Sam filled the kettle and put it on a burner. By the time she had located a pretty china teapot and cups and a loose tea called Buckingham Palace Garden Party, Kelly reappeared with damp curls, sporting her normal casual style.
“Better,” she said. “And it didn’t even require a special potion—just water and shampoo.”
“Better,” Ana echoed.
Eliza meowed her approval.
They brewed the tea and settled at the small kitchen table, Ana swigging her watered-down cup in three swallows and heading off to find her daddy.
“So,” Sam began, “we were talking about Lila’s dream of becoming as glamorous as a TV star so she could snag a wealthy man. I got a peek at the evidence proving she was spending money as if she actually had some.”
She related some of the details from the credit card statements.
“She’s up to her credit limit everywhere, and it looked like she’s paid the minimum for months now.”
“How many different cards?”
“Six or seven, I think. Rico only left the room for five minutes. I had to read fast.”
“Most likely Lila was applying for a new card every time she needed more spending power.”
“Wow, hard to believe these companies would keep issuing new cards,” Sam said. She carried two and paid the balances in full each month, but realized most of the world didn’t operate that way. Especially younger consumers who were getting their first taste of their purchasing power.
As if reading her mind, Kelly said, “I know what it felt like. Remember, when I got back here from California I’d reached my own debt ceiling. Thank goodness I got some wise advice from you.”
“I’m just glad you took it. You worked hard to get stable again. Doesn’t look like Lila was anywhere near stable. Each of her charges was a thousand dollars or so.”
Kelly made a pfft sound. “That’s nothing in the world of designer clothes, Mom. A purse alone can run five to ten thousand, if she goes for the top brand and buys the real thing.”
“Well, she certainly wasn’t at that level yet.”
“So, she was probably outfitting herself to fit in. When she got to Dallas, she wanted to look like the classy girl who could walk into a swank bar or somewhere without appearing like a complete rube. Then, when she met Mr. Right, he would outfit her in high fashion and she’d be the eye candy on his arm.”
“Yeah, most likely that was the case.” Sam picked up one of the tiny lemon cookies Kelly had set out on a plate. “But I cannot figure out how this relates to a motive for murder.”
Kelly shrugged. “I dunno. No man was covering her bills—at least yet. Her parents didn’t seem to have any clue about this, especially her father. Danny surely didn’t know about her spending habits …”
“Let’s hope Danny didn’t know about her spending habits. The pressure to get married. Can you imagine if he actually had married her and then realized what a financial burden she would become?” The prosecutor would argue that was plenty of motive.
“She didn’t want to marry him. Or Richard. Or probably not this S guy. I’m betting Lila Contreras was after a much, much bigger catch.”
But who would that be?
Eliza meowed insistently, grabbing their attention. Kelly pushed her chair back and allowed the cat to jump up onto her lap. When she began kneading Kelly’s chest with her paws, Sam noticed.
“What is she trying to tell you?”
“I have no idea, but she’s been insistent ever since yesterday when we were in the attic. I even went back to the book and found the page she kept pointing to.”
“And?”
“I read the entire page. It was some poetic-sounding bit about names. ‘What is in a name, after all? A name shall appear, and that name shall be the chosen …’ I don’t know. You know me and poetry. I never quite get it.”
“Hm. Almost sounds Shakespearean, but I don’t recognize those particular words.”
“Right. Shakespeare. My worst grade in all of high school literature was that segment.”
As soon as Kelly quoted the passage she’d read, Eliza looked toward Sam.
“We were talking about Danny’s situation. Maybe it’s something about the names? We’ve pretty well talked to everyone whose name we got.”
“Except the elusive S,” Kelly said.
“Mrroww.” And then Eliza leaped off Kelly’s lap.
Sam and Kelly exchanged a long look, eyes slightly wide.
“I guess we made the cat happy, but I still can’t figure out why,” Kelly said.
Sam drained her teacup and stood. “Hey, the tea was wonderful. I gotta get home.”
Chapter 44
Sam’s phone screen lit up when she started her car. She’d gone inside and left it on the console. “Okay, what’s this?” she muttered. The number on the screen showed Delia Sanchez so she immediately tapped the button to call the lawyer back.
“What’s up, Delia? Good news, I hope?”
“I’m not sure. I had a call from Danny about twenty minutes ago.”
“He’s all right?”
“I think so, although he seemed a little … something. Edgy.”
“Did he say what it was about?” Surely prisoners didn’t get to make calls just because they wanted someone to talk to.
“He had received a phone call, a friend from back home.”
“Friends are allowed calls now?”
“No. I’m guessing that the young man used the pretense of calling from my office or something like that. Anyhow, Danny thought it unusual enough that he felt I should know.”
“Okay, so who was it?”
“A guy named Chad. Danny says they were more like drinking buddies than close friends, and I guess that’s why hearing from Chad was odd.”
Sam vaguely remembered the young preppie looking guy sitting at the other end of the table at Thrashed. Kelly had spoken with him more than Sam did, but she didn’t remember any special connection between Chad and Danny.
“So, Delia, are we supposed to take some kind of action? What do you suggest?”
“Well, Danny just said the phone call worried him. He said it sounded like the friend had been drinking, and he was going on about Lila, something about lots of fond memories and that kind of thing. But the call ended with this Chad turning on Danny, saying he hoped Danny would rot in prison.”
“Really. Wow.”
“Could be the drinking, could be … I don’t know … anything.”
“I can make some calls, see what I can find out. Maybe there was more to Chad’s and Danny’s friendship than I picked up on the first time?”
“Let me know what you find out.” Delia seemed glad to have handed over the puzzle to someone else.
Sam put her phone on speaker as she started home. With a voice command to her contacts, she called Danny’s sister.
“Hey, Patsy, I know you’re crazy busy right now, but I just have a quick question. Danny has a friend named Chad. Do you have a number for him? I guess he called Danny today, and it’s prompted some questions.”
“Chad Smith? Um, yeah, hang on a sec.”
Smith.
When Patsy came on the line again, Sam blurted out the first question that came into her head. “Was Chad ever involved with Lila?”
“Yeah. That was no big secret, except maybe from my brother. They started hanging around all chummy, about five minutes after Danny moved to New Mexico. Why?”
“Did no one think it strange that she also kept stringing Danny along?”
“Well, I guess, now that you mention it.”
“Straight out—was Lila romantically involved with Chad Smith?”
The silence told her a lot. Then Patsy got her voice back. “Probably. She had a nickname for him—Smitty—that no one else used. She joked once that it was from some movie character, a guy who was strong and handsome and rich.”
Smitty had to be S.
Sam barely remembered saying goodbye to Patsy; her head was reeling as the pieces clicked into place. He had bragged about having money and how he would inherit his father’s business one day. She let the clues bounce around until she got home and parked the car. It was all starting to make sense now.
Her breathing was coming hard when she called the sheriff’s department and asked for Evan.
“Please, Evan, don’t question me right now.” She gave the highlights of her calls with Delia and Patsy. “San Antonio PD needs to bring in Chad Smith for questioning. I think he may have been here in Taos when Lila was killed. We need to find out. Whatever evidence you can get, please do. It’s important.”
Eliza had told them—a name shall appear. And this name fit. Sam felt the hair rise on her neck.
She couldn’t say why she was feeling almost panicky over this. Maybe some insight from having handled Manichee earlier, maybe just the adrenaline blast from having figured out the connections with Lila, S, and Danny. But something in the case was breaking loose and she needed for Evan to understand its importance.
“Sure, Sam, I should be able to get to it this afternoon.”
“Not just any time. Make the call now and please make them understand it’s super important. Isn’t there some kind of A-number-one priority or something?” She couldn’t remember the terminology Beau used to use.
“Okay, then. Priority One it is.”
“And call me back when you learn something. If you can arrange to be in on the interview, by video or something … I don’t know … Can I be there too?”
“Sam, is there something more you’re not telling me?”
That Lila was spending money like crazy? That she’d tried blackmailing three different men for large amounts by hinting they’d fathered her non-existent child? That one of them had become enraged enough to kill her? Evan knew all that. It just seemed he hadn’t put it together with the same sense of urgency.
“No, not really. Just have the police question him about how well he knew Lila and, mainly, find out where he was when she was killed.”
“Okay, sure.”
She ended the call, not at all certain how quickly he would follow up. But she’d done what she could, for now. She walked into the house, pocketing her phone, but feeling a little letdown from Evan’s reaction.
When a call from him came, not five minutes later, she stopped in her tracks in the kitchen.
“You could be on to something, Sam. Chad Smith has vanished.”
Chapter 45
An LS500 was reported stolen from Addison Smith Lexus when the dealership opened for business that morning. In checking the security cameras, the previous evening it all appeared to be business as usual, nothing but the normal comings and goings of employees and customers. The dealership closed at eight p.m. A few browsers, probably those who didn’t immediately want to be accosted by a salesperson, wandered onto the lot and meandered among the cars. But those were pretty much gone by ten.
At two in the morning, the cameras had gone on the fritz and didn’t come back on until Gloria, the office manager, came to work at eight in the morning. She was one of those OCD types who bustled about while the coffee brewed, making certain every little thing in her world was precisely in order. She saw that the system needed rebooting, so she did that. Then she poured her coffee and went to her desk.
The service manager, Randy Biddles, had been on duty since seven. People liked to drop their cars off for maintenance on their way to work, so his was the earliest-opening section of the whole operation. He’d been one of the last to leave the previous evening, and he swore the car, which was valued at more than a hundred grand, was parked right next to his assigned slot. But he must have been mistaken. Either that or the buyer had convinced a manager to let him come in the early hours to take delivery—people did get antsy about picking up their new cars. And for Randy, the days tended to blend together, especially when you worked several twelve-hour shifts in a row because your worthless assistant manager was
on a bender with his skanky girlfriend. It was impossible to get good help these days.
By the time Gloria and Randy ended up next to the coffee machine it was nearly ten o’clock. His chance comment about the white LS500 clicked in her precision-minded head, along with the inoperable security cameras, and they called in the sales manager.
No, the buyer of the pricey car hadn’t come by to pick it up. His appointment was at noon today.
So, where did the car go? An all-out search was launched, because this buyer was a close friend of Addison Smith’s and it wouldn’t do not to have his car ready and waiting.
But the car wasn’t on the lot. And a nervous call to Mr. Smith revealed that the family was concerned, too, because their son Chad was supposed to take his younger sister to her mandatory piano rehearsal for the big recital in two days’ time. Chad wasn’t home and his bed hadn’t been slept in.
Two plus two sometimes really does equal four. Smith called the police and his insurance company first, then placed a call to the friend whose new car wasn’t going to be ready for delivery quite yet.
By the time Sheriff Evan Richards from Taos, New Mexico, called the San Antonio PD, the missing car and the dealership owner’s spoiled rich-kid son were far from tops on anyone’s mind. But Evan finally reached an officer who knew the Smith family, and he passed along the details. The officer’s name was Miguel Contreras.
* * *
“Why would he be on the way to Taos?” Evan asked Sam.
“Once I brought up the questions about big sums of money, and after Chad Smith’s call to Danny in jail, he figured out that Chad was the one who killed Lila. He was ready to sit down today with his attorney and make a formal statement. Once Delia knew the whole story, she was planning to call you and lay it all out.”
Deadly Sweet Dreams Page 20