High Deceit

by C. E. Waterman

  “Is he paying child support?” Libby rescued her again.

  “I’m sure I’ll get some after we go to court, but I’m not counting on it. He might send it for a while, but he’s never been good at long-term commitments. I plan on supporting us myself, and whatever he gives me will be gravy.” She picked at her sweater. “I know that’s not what I’m supposed to do. People tell me I need to make him pay, but I think my life will be better if I don’t have to fight with him anymore, you know? I may feel different about it later, but right now, I’m too tired to care.” Tammi rested her head against the wall and relaxed, as if all the energy had drained out of her.

  Robin felt sorry for the young woman, working so hard to raise her daughter alone. And in a man’s profession, at that. “It must be really hard on you. How’s Bill working out as a partner?” she asked.

  Tammi sprang to her feet, as if embarrassed at showing any weakness. “He’s great. You know, I wondered how it would work out having a man for a partner. It’s not like I had a choice for a female partner in Pinon Creek.”

  “So it’s working out?”

  “Yeah. In fact, we have a lot in common. His wife has a lot of the same spending habits as my husband. At least my husband didn’t leave our daughter to go shopping.” She started to laugh then stopped. “Not that he wouldn’t leave her to go to the track.” She shrugged then leaned over to give Robin a hug. “I’m sure Mark’s going to be fine, Robin. He’s one of the best detectives we’ve got, and he was in great shape. That’ll help.”

  Robin nodded.

  Tammi blew out of the room.

  Libby looked at her, and they laughed. It felt good. “What do you think that was all about?” Libby asked.

  “I have no idea.” Should she keep her mouth shut? No, Libby was her friend. She had to be warned. “Libby, you don’t think they’ll drag Peter through the mud, too, do you?”

  Libby’s face didn’t change. “I wasn’t thinking about it until Tammi sneered at his dentist appointment.” She leaned back and braced her head against the wall. “I guess it’s inevitable knowing how close they are. I wanted to smack her when she asked what Mark could have been doing.” She chuckled. “Did you see her face when you said bleeding? I about lost it right there.”

  Robin grinned. “I know. I felt kind of bad.”

  “Don’t you dare feel bad. She ought to feel bad. Maybe she’ll pay more attention to what she says from now on.”

  “Nah,” they said in unison.

  In mid-giggle, Daisy, Bill’s wife, walked in the door. “Yeah, she ought to watch what she says about other people.”

  6

  Shame engulfed Robin when she realized what Daisy must have overheard. “Daisy,” she croaked. “It’s so good to see you.”

  Libby’s face flamed scarlet. “Um, yeah. Come on in.”

  Daisy entered, shoulders back, posture rigid. She walked stiffly into the room, carrying flowers. The light shone off her pretty blonde hair, and the blue of her sweater and skirt deepened the blue of her eyes. Although right now, those eyes were icy.

  Robin didn’t know what to say. How could she extricate her foot from her mouth, without making it worse?

  “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to be talking about you.” Libby solved the problem for her.

  “From what I heard, you guys weren’t the ones talking about me. It was Bill’s partner.” She spit out the last word.

  “Even so,” Robin said. “We didn’t mean for you to be hurt.”

  Daisy reached the chair next to Robin and perched on the edge. “I just want to clear a few things up.”

  Robin groaned inwardly. “You don’t have to…”

  “Yes, I do,” Daisy interrupted. “I want you to know my daughter was never in any danger. Despite what you’ve heard, I would never do that. There was this great sale at Macys, and I wanted to get something for a friend’s new baby. I went right after work, but I got held up. And just because I wasn’t there right when little Jessie got home, she called Bill from the neighbor’s house.”

  “Ah. And Bill was upset,” Libby said.

  “That’s an understatement. He picked her up and took her to his mother’s. You wouldn’t believe the note he left. Like I was the worst mother in the world. And then I had to deal with snide remarks from my mother-in-law. It wasn’t like I was that late, for heaven’s sake. Jessie would have been fine for a few minutes.”

  Robin had no idea what to say. They had stumbled into a marital minefield, and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing and blow it all up.

  “It’s ridiculous the way he treats me,” Daisy continued. “As if I’m a criminal or something. I wasn’t even getting it for myself. What did he want me to do, show up at a shower without a baby gift?” Daisy shifted. “He says I have a problem, but he doesn’t understand. He always says we don’t have enough money. I’m sick of hearing it. We always have money for the things he wants.” She took a breath. “He even took away my credit cards.” She blushed deeply. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”

  Robin made an ‘it’s nothing’ gesture with her hand, but inwardly she wished the woman would stop.

  Libby leaned forward. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  Why had Libby said that, unless she was as uncomfortable as Robin?

  Robin cringed inside, waiting for Daisy to blow. Thankfully, she didn’t.

  “Thank you, but we’re getting along fine, especially with me working part time.”

  Finally, Robin could change the subject. She jumped in before Daisy could say anything else. “Speaking of the job, how’s it working out? Didn’t I hear you’re a court reporter?”

  Daisy shrugged. “Yeah. It’s not bad. The trials are kind of interesting, you know? Last week we had a guy charged with burglary.” She snickered. “He tried to say someone planted the items in his car.”

  Libby raised an eyebrow. “Did it work?”

  Daisy relaxed into her chair. “Nope. The jury found him guilty.” She shook her head, and as if just remembering the flowers in her hands, she held them out to Robin. “Enough about me,” she said. “How’s Mark?”

  Robin took the flowers and updated her on Mark’s progress, glad to be safely out of the blast zone. “These flowers are lovely,” she said standing, “they’ll need some water. Would you like to come to Mark’s room?”

  Daisy nodded. “I’m supposed to meet Bill. He should be here soon.”

  As they took the elevator back to Mark’s floor, Libby checked her watch. “Peter’s picking me up in a few minutes to take me to see Virginia Carroll. She goes to our church, and he feels if I’m there it may be less stressful for her.”

  “Is that Cindy’s mother?”

  “Yes, poor woman. She lost a son to a drug related event last year, and now her daughter. I don’t know if I could take it.”

  “I heard about that at the time,” Daisy said. “It hurts to think of losing a child, and in such a horrible way. I heard he jumped off the roof or something.”

  The elevator stopped on Mark’s floor. A uniformed officer sat in a chair outside Mark’s room. He looked familiar from her trips to the station, but Robin couldn’t quite remember his name. He introduced himself as Jack Olsen. Then she remembered. He worked the front desk sometimes.

  Silvia sat next to Mark’s bed, stroking his shoulder. She must have been talking to him, trying to wake him.

  Ed sat in the recliner nearby, reading some kind of trade magazine.

  Mark looked the same as before, his face still pale against the pillow. Robin picked up his hand, the one without the IV, and brought it to her lips. It was warm, despite resting outside the blankets. She fought the urge to tuck the covers more securely around him for fear of dislodging any tubes, and lowered his hand to its former position.

  “Please wake up, sweetheart,” she said, tears forming in her eyes again. “I need you.” She focused on his face as if the two of them were alone. But a rustle behind her remind
ed her of everyone else in the room. “We all need you.”

  7

  After a three-hour nap, Peter woke with a headache. His body wanted more sleep, but he needed to see the crime scene. If he’d known how things would be with Internal Affairs, he would’ve gone there yesterday. Now, it would be harder to tell what happened, but maybe something about the scene would help him piece things together.

  He parked far enough away to walk through the lot and check for anything the crew might have missed. Crisp air chilled his nose, but the strong sun melted last night’s snow. The ground was swept clean, not even a piece of trash remained. He should have expected that. The crime scene unit didn’t miss much.

  Police tape crisscrossed the entrance in place of a door. He removed one side at the top and stepped over the bottom, tacking the top piece back when he went through. Judging by the vacant building’s rickety stairs and the dirt and grime, it had long been abandoned. David said he’d contacted the owner and discovered he’d been trying to sell it but had given up hope. He mustn’t have thought keeping it up was in his best interest.

  Peter moved around the building, looking for obvious signs of activity. Some scuffmarks marred the dirt on the cement floor, but there was no way to tell how much of it occurred during the investigation and how much was there before. Any number of people could’ve been in the warehouse with Mark. He’d ask to see the preprocessed crime scene pictures, but he still wouldn’t know how many were from the medical team.

  A fair amount of blood stained the floor near the entrance, likely where Mark lay. He gazed up at the loft where he’d heard Cindy’s body had been found.

  Would IA try to make it look as if Mark killed her and then someone shot him as he was leaving? He could have hit her from this distance. But the gun they’d found in Mark’s hand hadn’t been his issue. In fact, it had been reported stolen recently.

  Peter climbed the rickety stairs and scanned the upper level for evidence of where they’d found Cindy. The outline of her body was near the banister, and blood splatter covered some of the rotted wood. He squatted and peered through the decayed boards, careful not to touch anything. She could have been watching something below. Had Mark known she was here? Peter rose and stood back a few feet, examining the splatter. It splayed toward the rail, so Mark couldn’t have shot her from downstairs. Unless they thought he killed her first, went to leave, and was shot at the door.

  He ground his teeth. Not knowing what IA was thinking was so…so frustrating. Would they tell him what tests they’d ordered and their results? Probably not. If they thought Mark was guilty, they wouldn’t trust his partner. He took pictures with his phone where they found Cindy’s body and then hovered it over the banister and snapped a few more. What could she have been watching? A table sat almost beneath the mezzanine, and from this vantage point, it was clear that the dust on it had been disturbed.

  Maybe he could get information some other way. If they used the state lab, he might talk Bob Randall into giving him details. Bob was a good guy. He wouldn’t like IA railroading Mark.

  Nothing else at the warehouse jumped out at him, so he took some general pictures and walked back to his car. His next task required a delicate touch. He wanted to talk to Cindy's mom, and she’d already been questioned. She went to his church, so a social visit wouldn’t be out of order, and with Libby along, as they’d planned, it would be unofficial. Besides, no one was better at dealing with grieving people than his wife.

  He picked Libby up at the hospital and drove her to Virginia Carroll’s home. One look at the silent house almost made him reconsider. The blinds were drawn and the only sound was melting snow dripping from the trees. Peter found himself wanting to tiptoe up the walk.

  Libby grabbed his arm slowing him to a stop. “Do you think she’s awake? Maybe we should come back later.”

  “I don’t think that would help. We’re going to disturb her no matter when we come.” He led the way to the front door before he changed his mind.

  Cindy’s mom answered his knock, unlocked the screen, and pushed it open. Her face, without makeup, showed every line, and her hair was squashed to one side. She forced a polite smile. “Peter, Libby. Come on in.”

  Peter’s stomach churned over questions he had to ask. But which was better, let her alone to grieve in peace or bother her and possibly find her daughter’s killer? Cindy deserved justice. That didn’t make facing a grieving mother any easier.

  “We’re so sorry, Virginia.” Libby grasped her hands. “What can we do? Is there something you need?”

  Virginia shook her head. Her lips trembled, and her already-red eyes filled with tears. Libby took her in her arms, murmuring in her ear. Peter couldn’t hear her, but Virginia’s shoulders relaxed and her labored breathing slowed.

  All they needed was for her to have another attack. She had heart problems, and losing a daughter after having lost a son a year ago could send her over the edge.

  Virginia led them into the small living room. The drawn drapes made it cold and dreary. It had a bygone aura to it, red barn fabric on the couch and chair, and side tables similar to the ones in the house where he’d grown up.

  The two women sat together on the Early American style couch, and Peter moved to a chair across from them. He prayed for Virginia and for guidance then scooted to the edge and touched her hand.

  “I’m sorry to have to do this, but I need to ask you some questions. Are you up to answering them now? I hate to wait because the longer we put it off, the more time your daughter’s killer has to get away.”

  Virginia gave a shaky nod.

  He patted her hand and brought out his notebook. “Another policeman may have asked you this already, and if so I apologize, but do you know why Cindy was in the warehouse? Had she told you she would be there?”

  Virginia twisted a handkerchief in her lap. “Not a warehouse. She called around eleven o’clock and said she was at a charity event and not to worry if she was home late.”

  “Did she say where it was or who it was for?”

  “No, she left a message since I was asleep. She never went to charity events, at least not as far as I know—we don’t have that kind of money. I assumed it had something to do with the DARE Program.”

  Peter rested the notebook in his lap and gave her his full attention. “What else was going on? Had Cindy been acting strange?”

  Her eyes glimmered. “You mean more than normal? Ever since Joey died, she hasn’t been the same. She was driven to catch the people who hurt him. She wanted them all to pay.” Virginia loosened her grip on the handkerchief and stared at her hands, moving her reddened fingers as if they hurt.

  Peter remained silent, not wanting to stem the flow of information.

  Virginia lifted the corners of her mouth. “I was so proud of her. She was determined to ensure every kid in town knew how dangerous drugs could be. I thought she’d settle down after they arrested the guy who gave it to Joey, but the trial fueled her fire. She wanted drugs out of Pinon Creek altogether.” Her smile widened, and this time it reached her eyes. She chuckled. “Once that was accomplished she might have gone global.”

  Peter grinned back, remembering the determined college student.

  Virginia’s smile disappeared. “She was like that about everything. Once she made up her mind, nothing could change it. Believe me, I tried.”

  “Could she have met someone on the college campus?”

  Virginia seemed to think for a long moment. “Not that she mentioned, but you could ask Nora Lane. She was Cindy’s best friend.”

  Peter wrote the name. He’d just have to do that.

  8

  Robin breathed in the spicy scent of the casserole Libby unwrapped for their dinner. If she closed her eyes, she could imagine herself in Libby’s warm kitchen instead of a sterile hospital room. “Maggie will be upset she missed this. You know how much she loves your cooking.”

  Libby plopped a spoonful onto a paper plate and handed it over. “No
worries. I left one for her, too—and one for the Carrolls. I was on a roll last night.”

  Ed and Silvia took a plate, but Daisy and Bill declined.

  “We’d better run.” Daisy rose from her chair next to Mark’s nightstand. “The kids will be starving. I’m sorry to be missing out on this though. It smells heavenly.”

  Anxious to ask Bill some questions, Robin stood to see them out.

  Bill and Daisy shook hands with Mark’s parents.

  “Daisy,” Silvia said. “I forgot to tell you how pretty you look. Love your outfit, is it new?”

  Daisy glanced sideways at Bill. “Uh no, not really. I mean, I’ve had it a while.” Daisy hurried to the door, probably anxious to avoid a scene with her husband.

  Robin’s cheeks flamed again. Although with what she’d overheard, there would likely be a scene at home anyway. Robin waved good-bye and returned to her seat. As she wiggled into the vinyl, she almost sprang back up. She’d meant to question Bill about what he’d heard around the department. Oh, well, it’d have to wait.

  They were still eating when Peter and Greg showed up in their team t-shirts on their way to the season’s first softball game of their city league. The red and white t-shirts were spotless, probably for the last time.

  “You guys look spiffy,” Robin said. “What’s the weather like? Are you still going to have the game?”

  “Typical Colorado spring weather. Thirty degrees and snowing yesterday, and fifty and sunny today.”

  Libby dished some of the casserole onto a couple of plates for her husband and Greg. “I called the rec center. The guy told me we’re on for tonight. Since the snow melted, the fields will be a mess, though. I’m not excited about this one.” She grinned. “Don’t you wish you could join?”

  Robin laughed. “Not really. I think I’ll pass this time.”