by Joanna Wayne
“Do you miss the work you were doing in the army?”
“I never look back. It gets you nowhere.” At least that had been his policy before Kelly had dropped back into his life.
“And I continually look back,” she said, “but maybe that’s because I’m not where I’d like to be in the present.” She swirled the wine and watched it settle. “Were you ever married?”
“No.”
“That’s a short answer.”
“It was a short question.”
“Why not?”
He stood and walked to the fire, picked up the poker and nudged the logs until sparks shot up the chimney. “Guess I never met the right woman.”
“You’re smarter than me. I obviously didn’t wait for the right man.”
She stared into the fire, and they sat in silence until she’d finished most of her second glass of wine. “I’m incredibly tired. If you’ll excuse me, Jack, I think I’ll carry my glass to the sink and turn in.”
“Conversation from me and cheap wine. Puts the women to sleep every time. But just leave the glass here. I’ll get it.”
Her lips parted in a tentative smile that didn’t reach her eyes. She started to the bedroom she was sharing with Alex, but stopped and leaned against the door frame. “Thanks for taking us in. As exhausted as I am, I’m sure I’d be afraid to close my eyes anywhere else. I’d fear something would happen to Alex.”
And with that she disappeared into the bedroom one door down from his. He stood in front of the fire and watched a stray ember dance its way up the chimney. Yep. The house was definitely different with her in it.
And it would be heartbreakingly empty when she left.
Sunday, 12:36 a.m.
Single S Ranch
JACK HAD JUST TURNED off the lamp when his phone vibrated and clattered against his bedside table. He checked the ID. Gilly Carter. Jack’s adrenaline shot up. The detective wouldn’t call this time of the night without good reason. He took the call. “What’s up, Carter?”
“Sorry to bother you this late, but there are some new developments I think you and Kelly should know about.”
“Do you have a new suspect in Nick’s murder?”
“No, but the evidence on David Bates is pretty much down the toilet. He was nowhere near the crime scene last night. I don’t even see a reason to charge him with interfering with the investigation. A half-decent attorney would get him off on mental instability, and Denver’s full of half-decent attorneys.”
“Then I’m guessing Bates is not why you called.”
“No. We had another actor die tonight.”
“Murder?”
“We haven’t totally ruled it out, but there’s no indication of foul play. The guy was at a party in the same hotel where the Warners were staying. He was drinking heavily and said he was going up to his room to turn in. Not fifteen minutes later, he fell from his tenth-floor balcony.”
Nick let out a low whistle. “That had to make a mess. Anybody I know?”
“Hal Hayden. I hear he was a good friend of Nick Warner’s. I’m hoping to learn more about him from Kelly. How’s she holding up?”
“She’s having a hard time, but she’s hanging in there. Her daughter’s safety is her main concern at this point.”
“I need her to come in tomorrow.”
“You can ask her about Hal Hayden on the phone.”
“It’s a little more serious than that. Let’s just say she’s a person of interest, and we need to talk.”
“You know damn well she didn’t have anything to do with her husband’s death.”
“I agree it’s not likely, considering that an attempt was made on her life, but I’ve got a police chief who’s ready to chop heads if we don’t come up with a viable suspect and a motive for the murder. He likes to hear that I’ve left no stone unturned. So what time do you want to bring Kelly in to see me?”
“Snow’s coming down pretty good out here. Roads may be impassable by morning.”
“Then let’s make it noon, give the plows plenty of time to do their work.”
“Noon it is, but it’s a waste of your time and ours, Carter. Believe me, Kelly doesn’t have a clue what her late husband was into.”
“I hope you’re right.”
He was right. Jack no longer had any doubts in that department, but Hal’s death added a whole new level of complications to an investigation he still didn’t have a handle on.
If Hal Hayden had help plunging to his death, it would be the third attack in less than forty-eight hours, all of them with some connection to Nick Warner.
And unless Jack was way off base, there was a bullet with Kelly’s name on it already in a chamber and waiting to be fired. He planned to make damn sure it never reached its mark.
Chapter Eight
Sunday, 9:10 a.m.
Single S Ranch
Kelly slipped on the icy terrain, the mountain growing steeper, and the blinding snow and howling wind making every step a battle.
Faster, Kelly. Faster. Nick urged her on as the sounds of gunfire exploded around her. And then she looked behind her, and there was Nick, laughing and aiming an AK-47 at her heart.
Kelly jerked awake, knowing it was a nightmare yet still clasping the sheet so tightly that sharp pains needled her fingers. The cold from the dream had settled in her chest like sheets of ice, and her arms and legs felt as if she’d been running for miles.
She blinked and rubbed her eyes, then looked to the bed next to her to check on Alex. The covers were shoved back, but Alex wasn’t tangled in them the way had Kelly expected she’d be.
A quick burst of intermingled giggling and barking relieved her mind. She took a deep breath and her nostrils filled with the invigorating odors of frying bacon and coffee. She felt around on the night table looking for her watch, and then finally found it on the floor. Apparently she’d done some serious arm-swinging during her restless sleep.
She groaned when she saw the time. She hadn’t meant to sleep this late. Seduced by the waiting coffee, she made quick work of wiggling into a pair of comfortable jeans and a mauve sweater. She splashed her face with cold water, brushed her teeth, pushed her hair behind her ears and decided that would do. Not paparazzi-ready, but…
The days of worrying about that were coming to a close. Nick was dead. The reality of it hit more solidly at that instant than it had any time since she’d left the hospital.
She perched on the edge of the old claw-foot tub while the knowledge took root. Nick had been her husband—yet they were practically strangers. She hadn’t hated him, nor had she actually liked him, though this was the first time she’d ever let herself admit that. Perhaps it was learning of his tremendous debt that made the truth clearer.
He had to be the star in all aspects of his life, no matter the cost.
Everyone always raved about his generosity, but even that was about him. He liked the attention he garnered from giving expensive gifts, throwing wild parties and taking his friends on fabulous trips. Liked having his wife shop in the most elite boutiques and wear designer gowns whenever he needed her on his arm to quell the growing rumors.
Nick the magnificent. A magazine had once used that as the title of an article about him, and he’d had the page blown up and framed. It hung over the pool table in his massive den.
But he was dead now, and Kelly wouldn’t concentrate on his faults. He’d loved Alex, and that was the legacy she’d pass on to her daughter.
Kelly found Alex in the middle of the kitchen floor, still in her pajamas, tussling and sharing kisses with the collie. “I beated you up, Mommy,” she announced. “But I didn’t beated Jack up. Cowboys get up early, huh, Jack?”
“Can’t have slackers on the ranch.”
“And Jack let Stormy come inside and play with me cause it’s too cold for me to go outside and play with him. Pete and Repeat didn’t want to come inside. They were chasing rabbits.”
Kelly stooped and gave her daughter a kiss on th
e cheek. “I’m glad Stormy came in to play.”
“He sleeps in the barn with the other dogs, cause they’re his friends. Friends can sleep together, huh, Jack?”
“Friends have been know to do that.”
He poured a cup of coffee and handed it to Kelly. “There’s sweetener in the blue canister right behind you. I don’t have any of that powdered cream.”
“I can use milk.” She opened the refrigerator and poured straight from the carton they’d had delivered with the rest of the groceries last evening. “Can I help with the cooking?”
Jack turned a slice of bacon, then jumped back to keep from getting splattered from a spray of hot grease. “I’ve got it under control. Alex and I have already eaten.”
“So why are you still frying bacon?”
“For you. I was going to give you five more minutes of sleep before I woke you. Luckily, you saved me the trouble.”
“Good. I don’t want to be known as a slacker. Guess I should have mentioned that I don’t normally eat breakfast.”
“No wonder you stay so thin. Probably have a personal trainer, as well.”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Make that did.
“You California babes do suffer. But you’ll hurt my feelings if you don’t at least try my pancakes.” He poured a ladle of batter onto the sputtering griddle.
“Your coffee’s divine, I’ll give you that.”
She took another long sip, savoring the taste and the warmth. She tried to remember the last time she’d sat in a kitchen with a man while he cooked breakfast. It had definitely been before Nick. They hadn’t had meals together in a couple of years, and even when they had, the cooking had been done by a chef.
Kelly finished her coffee, then refilled the mug as Jack set a plate of fluffy pancakes and crispy bacon in front of her. She poured a tiny river of maple syrup in the center of the short stack and watched it dribble to the edges before cutting off a bite with her fork and slipping it between her lips.
“Hmm. Wow! Good.”
“I told you.”
He hadn’t lied, and with the first bite she realized that she was famished. Jack kept her company while she ate, but the talk stayed light with no mention of Nick’s debts or yesterday’s attack, since Alex and Stormy were still in the middle of the kitchen floor.
“That’s it,” she said, when she was down to the last half of the last pancake. “I can’t eat another bite.” She got up to dump the remains down the garbage disposal and rinse her plate. Jack walked over to Alex. “How would you like to watch some TV?”
She jumped up and started singing and dancing around Stormy. “Can I watch cartoons?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Alex followed at Jack’s heels and the collie at hers. Kelly stayed behind, knowing that luring Alex to the den was the signal that it was time to forget laid-back congeniality and get down to business. Jack mixed the two almost seamlessly. Maybe that’s why the lines between old friend and client kept getting entangled in her mind.
Only they’d never really been friends. They’d gone from acquaintances to unbridled passion to strangers in less time than it took most couples to orchestrate the first kiss. She wondered if even Lenny would have been fast enough to track that progression.
Jack reentered the kitchen alone, the TV blaring loudly behind him.
He took the seat opposite hers. “We need to talk.”
“I know. I left my phone in the bedroom. I should get it and call Mitchell again. I’m certain he doesn’t know about the debt. He’d have made Nick cut back on his spending.”
“Did he have that kind of clout with Nick?”
“Absolutely. Nick knew he owed his career to Mitchell. He’d managed him from day one.” She stood to go for her phone.
“The call can wait.”
“Okay.” She sat back down. “Why do I think you have bad news?”
“Maybe you’re psychic.” He leaned forward and toyed with a fork that had been left on the table. “Detective Carter called last night after you went to bed, actually a few hours after you went to bed.”
“What did he want at that time of the night?”
“Hal Hayden fell from the balcony of his hotel room. He was ten floors up.”
“Oh, no.” The image made her ill, and sorry she’d eaten. “How did that happen?”
“The investigation isn’t complete, but there was no obvious sign of foul play. He was drunk, so he could have just fallen.”
“First Nick and now Hal. How bizarre—and tragic.”
“Detective Carter said they were friends. Were they more?”
She hesitated, but there was no reason to deny the truth. “Yes, they were more than friends.”
“You know that for a fact?”
She nodded. “I told you that I caught Nick in a compromising position.”
“And that was with Hal?”
“Yes, six months ago, and I still see Hal in and out of the house on a regular basis. In fact he always seems to be around. Do you think he could have been distraught enough over Nick’s death to kill himself?”
Jack pushed the fork aside. “Do you?”
“I don’t know. I always figured he just liked the lifestyle Nick afforded him—though now we know Nick couldn’t afford it.”
“Always fun to be with the king.”
“Yeah,” she sighed. “Then again, he might have been crazy about Nick. My husband had a way of making you believe that things were all about you when they were really all about him.” She’d been naive enough to fall for that once.
She felt guilty for thinking about that now. Guilt on top of everything else. This was all so hard.
“The detective called for another reason, too. He wants you to come in for questioning.”
She had her second sinking sensation of the conversation. “What do you mean by questioning?”
“He’ll probably ask about your relationship with Nick.”
“He can’t think I’m a suspect. I was with you when Nick was shot, and I surely didn’t try to kill myself yesterday.”
“He knows all of that. The questioning is likely routine.”
“Did he refer to me as a suspect?”
“He referred to you as a person of interest. He’s looking for a motive.”
“A motive?”
“He may have heard that you were planning to divorce Nick.”
Kelly exploded. “Divorce is a long way from—” She stopped midtirade. She had to calm down before Alex heard her and came running in to see what was wrong. But the frustration kept eating away at her. “I’m not involved, Jack.”
“You’re preaching to the choir, but there’s no getting around seeing Carter. Either you go in willingly or he’ll get a warrant. I told him we’ll be there at noon.”
“We? You throw that out so casually. This is about me, Jack. I’m the person of interest.”
“You can refuse to answer questions until you have a lawyer present.”
“I’m not bringing in an attorney. I have nothing to hide. For God’s sake, I was almost a victim myself. The monsters could have killed Alex—and you. Carter can’t just disregard that. You were a witness, and the car we were in is riddled with bullets from an assault rifle. And besides I can’t go running into his office. I have Alex.”
“We can take her back to headquarters. I’ll call Evangeline. She’ll assign someone to watch her. It’s all part of the package when you sign on with PPS.”
“It seems as if you and Carter have this all worked out.” The comment wasn’t fair and she knew it, but she was facing enough without the police working against her. The mountain from her nightmare had become real, and she was sliding down it and into a chasm that was growing deeper by the second.
Sunday, 11:08 a.m.
Downtown Denver
THE SNOW HAD STOPPED falling, and the sun peeked from behind a layer of gray clouds as they entered Denver’s downtown area. Jack had been silent for most of the drive
into town which was fine with Kelly. She was tired of talking about things she seemed powerless to change.
Her cell phone rang. “It’s Mitchell,” she said, checking the caller ID. “What do I tell him?”
“Just say you need to see him this afternoon. Best not to get into the debt issue over the phone.”
“Hi, Mitchell, where have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday.”
“I changed hotels. Didn’t they tell you?”
“No, but I also tried your cell phone. It’s constantly busy.”
“I know. Nick’s murder has created a media storm. I’ve been so upset I can barely deal with the situation. You know how I felt about Nick. He was like a brother. And now there’s Hal Hayden. Did you hear?”
“I heard.”
“This will be known as the Film Festival from hell. Well, back to the reason I called, I just talked to the medical examiner. He’s released Nick’s body. I need to know where it should be delivered.”
“The Beverly Hills Funeral Home. I called them yesterday and they’ll take care of everything including a private service in their chapel.” Very private. In fact she might not even make it back in time to attend, not unless she was certain there was no risk to Alex.
“I hate to badger you about this, Kelly, but have you booked a flight home?”
“Not yet.”
“I know you’re concerned about yours and Alex’s safety. So am I, so I took the liberty of calling the company that installed your home security. They’re going to check out everything and make sure the alarm system is working properly.”
“I appreciate that.”
“And I’ve contacted a bodyguard service in Beverly Hills. They’ve assured me they can guarantee your protection, though I really don’t think you have a thing to worry about. That attack on the high way was most likely a case of mistaken identity—or else Jack Sanders was the target.”
“I guess that’s a possibility.”
“If that’s it, I should get back to the media feeding frenzy.”