Maggie barely waited for her to sit before asking, “What’d you learn?”
“What?”
“The funeral. Did you learn anything?”
She seemed so hopeful, Robin almost hated to let her down. “Not really. The turnout was huge. She must have been well liked.”
Maggie’s expression fell slightly, then became carefully neutral. She sat in the chair next to Robin.
“There was one thing. Cindy’s mom said little Joey had wanted to talk to the chief, but he died before he got a chance.”
Maggie leaned toward her. “What do you think that was all about?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did she say what he wanted to tell him?”
“No, but she didn’t act worried about it.”
Maggie pleated the bottom of her shirt between her fingers. “Do you know if Mark visited him that day?”
Robin frowned. “Everyone knows Joey liked Mark. He’s good with kids.” Thompson’s remarks tried to intrude, but she pushed them away. “I remember how upset he was after Joey died, but I can’t remember if he saw him that day or not.”
“It’s been almost a year now. If Mark learned anything, he would have told you back then.” Maggie sprang from her chair and paced. “What if someone did get a chance to talk to Joey, and he shared what he knew with the wrong person? What could a little boy know that would incriminate someone?” She flopped back into her chair. “This is too confusing.”
Robin shook her head to clear it. “I hate this. These are Mark’s friends. How could one of them be guilty of murder?”
Maggie left with neither of them any closer to the truth. That evening Robin finally got some time alone with Mark. The flow of visitors had stopped, so they shouldn’t be disturbed, but she wanted to ensure some privacy. She poked her head into the hall.
“I’m going to close the door. I want to talk to Mark for a bit.”
Jack, the officer on duty, nodded, and she eased the door closed.
“Hmm, what’s running through that cute little head of yours?” Mark asked with a wicked grin.
“Not that. You’re in no condition, and I’m too tired.” A glimmer of sunshine pushed back the darkness in her mind and broke free on her face. “Besides, we might make people in the other rooms jealous.”
He chuckled, the lighthearted sound she had missed the last few days. “Then tell me, what will we do?”
The moment felt so fragile, she hesitated to break it. She wanted to pretend none of this had happened and just banter, but he wouldn’t thank her for waiting. How could she start? “I have something to tell you.”
“I gathered that. Is it good?”
She twisted her wedding ring around her finger. “No, it isn’t. I haven’t let anyone tell you this, but I think you need to know what’s been going on.” Once she started, she couldn’t stop. She began with the money they found in his pockets and kept going. When she told him Internal Affairs questioned her, anger exploded on his face. But he kept quiet until she told him everything.
Almost everything. “Oh, and Isaiah Thompson accused you of having an affair with Cindy Carroll.” The tears finally burst forth and ran down her face. He made room for her on the bed, and she climbed in and snuggled up. His arms pulled her in close, and she relaxed against him.
He held her until she stopped crying and then gave her a gentle squeeze. “Honey, you know I’d never have an affair. I love you too much. And with Cindy Carroll? Are they kidding? She’s not even out of college.” He stroked her arm. “What could Thompson be thinking? He must have been trying to turn you against me so you would tell them something.”
She bent forward and peered up at him. “He knew about my divorce and about Carl cheating on me. He must’ve known it would be a sore spot.”
Mark’s kiss was tender as he tucked her back under his arm. “I can’t believe he put you through that.” He carefully rested his head against the pillows. “I can see why he got a search warrant after finding so much money in my pocket. I have no idea where it came from. I know I didn’t have it the night before, and from what the doctor said, it was too early for me to have gone to the bank. It had to be planted so they would search the house. So where did the other money come from? And how did they get it in your closet? Maybe we can find something from the briefcase. If IA will let us. Sorry, didn’t mean to think out loud.” He gave her another quick squeeze. “I know it’s impossible, but try not to worry. Peter and I will figure it out.”
She relaxed. The worry would come back of course, but for now, she let it go. Snuggling in closer, she changed the subject.
He followed her lead and talked about other things, but his mind seemed elsewhere.
A tap on the door signaled the end of their quiet time, and Ed poked his head in. “Do you want us to come back later?”
“No, of course not. Come in,” Robin said.
When Ed opened the door wide, Silvia scooted around him. “OK you two, what are you up to?” Silvia grinned.
“I told him all of it, and this is how he reacted.” Robin climbed off the bed, ignoring Mark’s hands that didn’t want to let go. She smoothed the bedcovers before sitting in the chair. Conversation flowed around her, but she wasn’t listening. For a little while, she let the thoughts and fears of the last few days fade. Everything felt right. Still one little question wouldn’t go. How long could it last?
22
Robin drove home and, for the first time in days, spent the night in her own bed. She woke early, refreshed and ready to take on the day. A plan had come to her during the night, and she knew the perfect person to help her carry it out.
Maggie answered the phone on the first ring. “What’s the matter?”
Robin realized getting a call from her at 7:00 AM must have scared her. “Sorry, nothing’s wrong, but I need a favor.”
“Anything.”
That’s why Robin loved her. She told her what she was thinking, and though she could hear the doubt in her voice, Maggie agreed.
“Let me get dressed and I’ll pick you up,” she said, and good to her word, she arrived thirty minutes later in the Sunshine Interiors van.
“Are you sure this is a good idea? What if we get caught?” Maggie asked.
“I guess we’ll figure that out when the time comes. Libby’s getting Peter to check out little Joey, so maybe we can check out the police officers in Mark’s unit. We’re decorators, we’re used to sizing people up by the way they keep their house. We can’t go inside, but maybe if we drive by we’ll get a feel for them on a more personal level.”
Maggie shook her head. “If you say so. Where should we go first?”
Robin took out her Christmas card list. “Let’s start with Tammi James.”
She gave her the address, and Maggie keyed it into her GPS. It didn’t take long to get there. The neighborhood was new, with construction still in progress a few blocks away. Though the house was small, it was nice. Maggie drifted to a stop across from the address and put the van in park, allowing it to idle while they took in the cute little two-story. The siding was light gray, with white trim and shutters.
Dare they get out and peek in a window? Robin had just unhooked her seatbelt, when a moving van backed into Tammi’s driveway.
“Is this the right address?” Maggie rechecked the GPS.
“Yep, it’s the one on my list. Is Tammi moving? Could her finances have deteriorated so bad she had to sell her place?” She felt a tinge of pity at the thought.
A middle-aged woman propped the door open while two men exited the truck. The driver spoke to her while the other man opened the rear and set the ramp. Someone was moving in, not out. The woman strode to the truck. She was tall and slim, an older version of Tammi.
“It must be her mother,” Robin said.
Maggie steered away from the curb and drove to the end of the block.
Robin craned her neck to look back. “That’s how she’s making it without her husband. If her mom move
s in, she can get help with the house payment and free daycare. It’ll be hard on her though. I don’t think they get along all that great.”
Maggie dipped her head to enter in the next address. “Maybe her mom moving in is a way to cover extra money.”
Robin felt sadness as she drew a line through Tammi’s name. “I don’t think so.” She remembered what Tammi had said at their last barbeque. She could never measure up to her mother’s expectations. Living with her must be excruciating. “It would allow her some flexibility, but I don’t think it would be enough by itself. I think we can drop her off our list.”
Bill’s house was in an older part of Pinon Creek, but it was bigger than Tammi’s. It needed a paint job, and a twenty-year-old van sat in the driveway. An assortment of bicycles, skateboards, and sports equipment littered the yard.
Maggie parked down the street, and she and Robin got out of the van and jogged back. Robin just had to see inside. Slim, curtain-less windows flanked the door in invitation. Clutching some fliers and business cards, they walked up and Robin peered in, rehearsing what she would say if she got caught.
The living room and dining room looked similar to the outside—full of furniture and toys, crowding a too-small space.
Maggie pretended to put something on the door in case someone was watching, and they calmly but quickly fled past the clutter, to the van.
“So much stuff!” Robin said, waiting for Maggie to hit the door unlock. “A lot to afford on one full-time and one part-time salary.”
Maggie climbed in and started the van. “At first, I thought some of it might be from the neighbor kids, but the inside is worse than the outside, and some of it looks pretty expensive. Of course, if the house is paid for that would make a difference.”
Robin nodded. “I think you’re right. I’ve been in their house, and it’s stuffed with a lot of designer brands. They wear designer labels, too. Let me see my notes.” She routed through her bag and lifted out her journal. “Peter says when they did a financial check on Bill they discounted him because his charge cards are all maxed out. That’s how he’s affording all those designer things.”
Maggie made a U-turn out of the neighborhood. “Maybe we shouldn’t be writing him off so fast. Mounting bills could be making him desperate. He might have convinced himself he wasn’t hurting anyone. Giving information isn’t the same as killing someone.”
“It is in the eyes of the law if it leads to murder,” Robin said. “And he must know that.”
“Yeah, but it doesn’t take the same cold-bloodedness pulling the trigger and watching someone die would take.”
“True.” Robin scribbled a note in her journal.
David lived in a second-floor apartment. Two large windows fronted his apartment’s white exterior, and he’d left the blinds open. Robin raised to her toes and shaded her eyes to peer inside. The living room and kitchen furniture could have been bought by Bachelor’s Are Us—leather, leather, everywhere. A few dishes resided by the coffeemaker. Otherwise, the place was tidy.
Maggie took her turn to peer inside, not having to get on tiptoe do it. “Not much to see here. A single guy’s man-cave. Some nice leather though. Looked like pretty good quality, but hard to tell from here.”
“I agree. Good quality, but nothing extravagant. He’s not living above his means though, judging by his furnishings.” She put a question next to his name and gave Maggie a grin. “Now for the one you want to see.”
Greg’s apartment was on the top floor of his building in a nice part of town. They rode the elevator up, Robin picturing what his place would look like and drawing a blank.
“What do you think we’ll find?” She elbowed her friend in the ribs. “Will electronics have taken over? Is he a neat freak or a slob?”
Maggie huffed and moved away. “I don’t know. Let’s just get on with it.”
The elevator doors opened to a small hallway and a door with the only opening being a peephole. “We’re not going to figure him out today,” Robin said. “His apartment must take up the entire top floor.”
Maggie darted back into the elevator and pushed the down button.
Robin assumed more than anywhere else, Maggie did not want to be caught snooping here. She moved a little slower.
Maggie reached out and dragged her inside. “Would you hurry up?”
Robin laughed.
Back in the vehicle, they drove to Pinon Heights where Chief Donovan and Beth both lived. An exclusive gated community—complete with a guard on duty. Robin glared at the guardhouse as they drove by, her plan of sneaking in on foot evaporating. She didn’t need to see their houses. The aura alone was intimidating.
“We should target this neighborhood for the business,” she said.
Maggie nodded. “Roger that, partner.”
She turned the van toward the hospital. “Apparently, the people with money are Greg, Beth, and Chief Donovan. The chief I can kind of understand. After all, he probably makes quite a bit, and he’s single. But Beth I don’t understand and, I hate to say it, Greg. Beth lives in the Heights, for heaven’s sake. How on earth does she afford it?” She scowled at Robin. “And Greg lives in the penthouse of a pricey building.”
Robin flipped through her notes. “According to Peter, Beth lives in her aunt’s house and takes care of it for her. Janice lives in a nursing home, and the trust handles all the bills. Beth can spend what she makes on herself.”
Maggie bit her lip as she turned into the hospital lot and found a parking place. “That leaves Greg.” The lightness in her voice seemed forced. “Wouldn’t you know it? I’m attracted to a possible drug dealer.”
Robin laughed. “Don’t get too worked up yet. Greg received an inheritance from his uncle.”
Hope flared in Maggie’s eyes and then died. “That’s a little convenient, isn’t it? I hate to say so, but he makes the most sense.”
Robin watched her face. It felt like she was delivering a bombshell on her best friend. “Ed told me about a scandal involving Greg as a boy.” She lowered her voice. “He was sent away as a teenager, and Ed thinks it involved drugs.”
Maggie eyed her nails. “Why do I even care? It’s not like I had any kind of relationship with him.” Her face took on a faraway look “Although he doesn’t seem like a drug dealer. I can’t explain it, but he seems kind.”
Robin touched Maggie’s arm. “We have no proof he’s the leak. So far all we have are rumors.” She let go and went on quickly. “I think we need to talk to the chief. I wanted to talk to him anyway about Joey and ask him what he’s heard from Internal Affairs.”
Maggie nodded, her eyes getting a misty look.
Robin snickered, trying to lighten things up a bit. “I desperately want to ask what he’s doing to investigate, but I don’t know how to go about it.” She braced her elbows on her knees. “How do you tell the chief of police you think he’s not doing a good enough job—especially when he’s your husband’s boss?” She unlatched her seatbelt and reached for the door handle. “Thanks for everything. It helps to have someone to talk to who isn’t police. I need someone objective to tell me when I’m getting crazy.”
Maggie smiled. “You are crazy, but it’s nothing new. You’ve been crazy since I met you.”
Robin laughed, and got out of the van.
Maggie left without going back in to see Mark. If Greg was there, she probably didn’t want to see him. She pushed her friend’s hurting face out of her mind. She hated doing that to her. But if Greg was not what he said he was, she deserved to know now.
23
Peter exhaled. He was on his way to see Virginia Carroll again. How had he let Libby talk him into this? Bringing up this subject would be painful, and it had probably been covered thoroughly at the time. But if checking it out again brought the smallest thing to light, it would be worth it.
He had called first, so she was expecting him, but he didn’t get out of the car right away. He checked his notes for exactly what Robin said she’d hea
rd. Joey had wanted to see the chief, but he died before he could.
Virginia answered the door and let him in, extending her hand.
Peter shook it gently and then covered it with his other hand. “I’m so sorry to disturb you again, Virginia. But like I said on the phone, I think it would help give us the whole picture if we knew more about Joey.”
Virginia showed him into the living room and sat in the same place on the couch as she had the last time.
He sank into a recliner across from her.
An eight by ten picture of Cindy now graced the table next to the couch. Virginia reached for the picture and stroked the glass with her finger. “I want to get to the bottom of this. If the same person or people are behind the deaths of my children, I want them stopped. What do you want to know?”
Peter checked his notes. “At the funeral, someone said Joey had wanted to see the chief but didn’t get a chance before he died. Is that correct?”
She nodded. “He said he had something to tell him. I wasn’t crazy about interrupting the chief, but he’d given me his card, so I called after lunch. He said he had an event or something that night, but he’d come by the next day.” Her voice was husky, and she cleared her throat. “He’d been doing so well. We had no idea he would go that fast.”
“Did anyone come to see Joey the day he died?”
“I don’t think so. I told the police officer that at the time. They were hoping to find out what Joey wanted to tell Chief Donovan, but he never told me. As far as I know he didn’t tell anyone else either.”
Peter leaned forward clasping his hands together, trying to make his posture as nonthreatening as possible. “No one came, not the police, not anyone?”
Her finger stilled, and she glanced up. “His friend Tim came to see him. He was pretty shaken up after Joey died, because he had seemed so strong that morning. We all thought he was getting better. I think Tim took it as hard as Cindy did.”
Again, Peter kept his voice gentle. “Did the police question him that you know of?”
“They probably did, but I don’t know. I can give you his address if you’d like.” She went to the kitchen and returned with an old-fashioned address book.
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