Before Sunrise

by Diana Palmer

  His first thought was that something had happened to Joseph, but the little boy was sitting in the middle of the second double bed playing with toy action figures.

  Tina had been crying. Her eyes were red and swollen and she looked miserable.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked. His eyes went around the room. “And where’s Phoebe?”

  “At her house,” she said miserably.

  “You let her go?” he exploded. He jerked out his cell phone and started dialing.

  Tina started to speak, but she couldn’t bring herself to say what had really happened. She felt guilty.

  The phone rang and rang before it was answered.

  “Hello?”

  Cortez froze. That wasn’t Phoebe. That was…Drake!

  “What the hell is Phoebe doing there, and why are you there, too?” Cortez demanded.

  “Ask Tina,” Drake said icily. “As for what I’m doing here, I’m staying with Phoebe at night until we catch the killer…or killers.”

  Cortez scowled, glancing at Tina, who flushed.

  “I’ll come and bring Phoebe back here,” Cortez began at once.

  “She won’t go,” Drake said curtly. “Tina threw her out of the room. No way is she going to sink her pride enough to walk back in there. You can tell your cousin for me that I’m through competing with you. She’s welcome to you and vice versa.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Cortez demanded.

  “I told you. Ask Tina. I’m not on duty until tomorrow morning. You can contact the sheriff’s office if you need backup.”

  The line went dead.

  Cortez turned to Tina after he closed the flip phone, his eyes narrow and cold. “All right,” he murmured coldly. “Spill it!”

  Tina bit her lower lip. Tears were threatening again. “Drake and Phoebe were just sitting in the car for the longest time, laughing and talking…I just lost my temper. I piled her stuff on the floor and I said something like we needed more rooms.” Her face fell, ashamed. “She packed and left, and Drake said he’d drive her to the museum to pick up her car. I tried to stop her,” she added quickly. “But Drake was just hateful!”

  Cortez stared at her uncomprehendingly. “Tina, there’s a killer on the loose,” he said slowly. “Phoebe’s going to be the main target. Drake is a good lawman, but he’s young and he hasn’t had a lot of experience with murder cases. With the best of intentions, he could cost Phoebe her life.”

  She started crying again. “I know. I’m sorry!”

  With a long, rough sigh, he pulled her into his arms and rocked her. “Damn!”

  “I love him,” she choked. “But all he ever talks about is Phoebe this, Phoebe that. He’s infatuated with her. I think maybe she feels the same way about him. They’re really chummy for people who are just friends. When they were sitting in the car, he kissed her. They were wrapped up like lovers!”

  He’d noticed that they were friendly, but a kiss was something else again. He felt wounded. It was more painful for him than Tina might imagine, because she didn’t realize he’d rekindled his romance with Phoebe. He couldn’t tell her, either, not now, when Drake was going to be staying under the same roof with her. It would kill his pride to admit what a fool he’d been.

  “What are we going to do?” she wailed.

  “We’re going to get some sleep,” he replied. “Then, tomorrow, we’ll see.”

  She wiped her eyes. “If anything happens to her, I’ll never forgive myself.”

  His heart skipped, painfully. “If Drake’s there at night, he can protect her,” he replied, as much as he hated saying it aloud.

  “What about during the day?” she groaned.

  “She’ll be at work six days out of seven. On Sundays, I’ll talk with Drake and see what we can arrange.”

  Tina looked up at him through tears. “You could ask her to come back. I’d promise not to make any more trouble.” Her lips made a thin line. “It’s not her fault that Drake likes her more than me, after all.”

  He didn’t reply. He had enough trouble without borrowing more. “Phoebe will be all right,” he said.

  “Sure she will,” she agreed.

  Neither of them believed it.

  PHOEBE COOKED SUPPER for Drake and they watched television until almost midnight. Neither of them was in the mood for sleep, but fatigue eventually, caught up with them.

  The next morning, Phoebe woke to the delicious aroma of scrambled eggs and bacon that Drake had whipped up for them.

  She smiled as they ate breakfast, thinking how considerate her new roommate was. Then she dressed and drove in to work, pulling into the parking lot precisely at eight-thirty. She was comforted by the knowledge that Drake had followed her in his own car to ensure that she arrived safely. After personally escorting her into the museum, he departed for his police shift.

  It had been a little disappointing that Cortez hadn’t even phoned to check on her the night before. She hadn’t really expected it, though. They hadn’t parted as friends, and God knew what Tina had said about their argument. Then she remembered that Drake had kissed her forehead in the car. She grimaced. It might have looked much more ardent than it really was, and Tina would probably have told Cortez about it. Maybe they laughed about it and decided that they were better off together. She shut off the memory. It was like a closed chapter of her life. She’d better start thinking of it that way. Even more, she’d better start watching her back. There was still a killer on the loose, and she could identify the bogus art dealer.

  Marie had obviously heard something, because she was very careful to be upbeat around Phoebe. So was her assistant, Harriett White.

  The senior citizens’ group arrived promptly at ten, and Phoebe took them around the museum herself, just to avoid being in her office. It reminded her too well of the passionate kiss she’d shared with Cortez. The problem was, everything reminded her of Cortez.

  CORTEZ HAD DELIBERATELY stayed away from the museum. Tina’s talk about the kiss Phoebe and Drake had shared had hurt his pride. He was spoiling for a fight, and he didn’t want to make things any worse than they already were.

  He drove to the hospital after he got up to check on Walks Far. The man was still unconscious, but there was nobody at his bedside. Perhaps Bennett and his sister had been up all night. That was a charitable estimate, he decided.

  He checked with the officer he’d requested to remain outside the door, and nobody had been in Walks Far’s room all night. Curious, he thought as he went back to his car, that the family wasn’t keeping a vigil. If that had been Tina or Joseph or any member of his family, he’d never have left the hospital.

  He phoned Alice Jones from a public phone in the lobby. “Have you got anything new?” he asked.

  “A tentative ID on the fingerprints of the second dead man,” she replied excitedly. “I pulled a string or two,” she chuckled, sensing his surprise. “The man’s name is Fred Norton. He was listed as an art dealer, although our investigators can’t find anybody who would admit he ever worked for them. Apparently he worked for a construction boss named Paul Corland for a few days earlier in the month. Norton’s got a rap sheet the length of my leg, everything from petty theft to armed robbery and assault. And, get this, he was in prison with Bennett’s foreman. I called Phoebe and she told me that was the name of the art dealer who sold her the effigy figure in her museum, the one that blond woman made such a fuss about possibly being stolen.”

  Cortez felt his pulse leap. Bingo! “That’s the connection. It has to be. Bennett never mentioned that Walks Far was his brother-in-law, or that he had a prison record, when I first questioned him,” he said, thinking aloud. “In fact, he pretended that he hardly knew the man.”

  “Well, well, the plot thickens!” Alice exclaimed. “But that doesn’t explain the blond hair and face powder…”

  “Bennett’s sister is married to Walks Far,” he added. “She’s blond.”

  “Another revelation!”

  “
If we ran a DNA test on that hair, I’d bet that we’d have a perfect match to Claudia Bennett.” His eyes narrowed as he stared at the opposing wall. “Suppose,” he began, “that Walks Far and his wife knew the art dealer had those items stashed, and they looked around and found them in that cave. They discovered the stolen artifacts and the art dealer saw them. There was a struggle. Walks Far shot the other man.”

  “How’d he get back to the trailer? And how did he shoot another man, if he’d already been assaulted and was in a coma?” Alice persisted.

  He grimaced. “Stop messing up my theories.”

  “They won’t hold water. Suppose Walks Far and his wife were making a bid for the stolen art and the thief happened on them. Then Walks Far and the other man struggled, there was a blow to Walks Far’s head, but Walks Far shot the other guy before he passed out. His wife drags him back to whatever she’s driving, takes him back to the work trailer, pulls his inside and leaves lights on so the police will investigate.”

  “Not bad,” he murmured thoughtfully.

  “Which makes Walks Far at the least an eyewitness to murder, if not a suspect.”

  “I’ve got a guard on him at the hospital, but he hasn’t regained consciousness again.” He frowned. “I’m going to put a tail on Bennett’s sister, just in case. I’ve got a hunch she’s up to her eyebrows in this. Phoebe said the woman who came to her office was tall, blond, expensively dressed and had a mole. Bennett’s sister matches the description.”

  “A husband and a lover and an accomplice, maybe?” Alice was fishing.

  “Maybe.”

  Cortez searched his memory for what Corland had said about the man who came and worked for a couple of days and then just walked off the job. Things were beginning to come together. “What did the dead man drive?” he asked immediately. “Was it a late model SUV?”

  “I’m not psychic, Cortez!” Alice exclaimed. “You’re lucky I could get the ID from his prints,” she added. “By the way, I just spoke to Phoebe on the phone a few minutes ago. She’s really somber today. You guys have a fight or something?”

  “Or something,” he said tightly. “Keep digging. See if you can connect him with a black SUV of any age or model.”

  “I’ll do it, even though half the offices are closed today. Some people get long holidays…of course, nobody cares about my time off—”

  He hung up.

  ON A HUNCH, Cortez went back to the motel and phoned the Department of Motor Vehicles, barely taking time to kiss Joseph and speak to Tina, who was still brooding and miserable. He gave his ID and the man’s name, and hoped for a miracle.

  None was forthcoming. The man drove a sedan. He thanked the employee and hung up.

  He was doing nothing but running into dead ends. It might not be a bad idea to put some more pressure on Bennett and see what he could come up with.

  But meanwhile, he and the local police, sheriff’s department and his own unit started checking for owners of black SUV models locally.

  Cortez still missed Phoebe and wanted to talk to her, but the case took precedence. The art dealer was dead, but whoever killed him might still have a reason to go after Phoebe to tie up loose ends. He had to catch the killer before she ended up in the line of fire. Somehow, he’d work things out with her. Despite the evidence of that kiss Tina had seen her share with Drake, deep down he didn’t believe she could have been intimate with him and in love with another man. It was completely out of character. She was remarkably old-fashioned. He thought about that, and it lightened his heart. He was going to work things out with her. He’d never been more certain of anything. Now, he had to catch the murderer, and quickly.

  SUNDAY WAS A STUMBLING block, because all the state and federal offices were closed. He endured Tina’s watery, bitter mood and played with Joseph, wishing all the while that he could go and patch things up with Phoebe.

  But Monday, Cortez did some further checking and finally found the identity of the dead anthropologist. He was from Oklahoma all right, but was temporarily teaching at a North Carolina university. By checking with the staff there, he discovered that the man’s name was Professor Dan Morgan, who taught anthropology at the college. He’d been missing for some time. But he had no relatives, certainly no daughter. Phoebe had recalled that the man told someone waiting for him that he was speaking to his daughter. Perhaps it had been a ruse, to distract the person from knowing who he was talking to on the phone.

  Then an assistant of the professor’s, mastering her tears on learning of his death, recalled that he’d gone to Chenocetah to see a relative of his, a cousin, who worked for a man named Bennett. The cousin’s name was Walks Far.

  Cortez was elated. Finally a connection! He thanked the assistant, gave his condolences and hung up. Then he cursed silently, because Walks Far had known the first murder victim and had lied about it. He should have seen through the lie.

  “I’ll be back when I can,” he told Tina after he’d kissed Joseph and cuddled him for a minute. “I’ve got a lead. I have to get to the hospital and see about a comatose suspect.”

  “Have you spoken to Drake at all?” she asked with downcast eyes.

  He stared down at her until she looked at him. “Why do you think she’s mixed up with Drake?”

  “She’s always laughing with him, talking to him. He admires her,” she muttered. “They’re so…friendly! And she’s been walking around in a daze lately, like a woman deeply in love.” She frowned. “She has to be involved with him.”

  He lifted an eyebrow. “She’s involved, all right, but not with Drake.”

  Her eyes widened. So she hadn’t been wrong at first, when she’d teased Phoebe about being crazy about Cortez. “Oh, no. I couldn’t have been that wrong!”

  “You’re in love with Drake, aren’t you?”

  She bit her lip. “He started talking about Phoebe all the time.”

  “Why?”

  She shifted. “Well, I hated the way he praised her, and I sort of started praising you. A lot. He got quiet and remote, and then he just didn’t call or come around at all. I figured it was Phoebe.”

  “Maybe he thought we were distant cousins,” he murmured, thinking aloud.

  Her eyebrows arched. “But I said we were cousins.”

  “You didn’t say we were first cousins, did you?” he added.

  She thought back. “Well, no.”

  He patted her cheek, smiling. “It will all come right. We jumped to the wrong conclusion before, but now that I really think about it, I can guarantee that Phoebe isn’t messing around with Drake.”

  Her face became radiant. “Then there’s a chance…” She stopped. “I’ve ruined everything! She’ll never forgive me. Neither will Drake!”

  “It will all work out. I promise it will. But right now, I’ve got to catch a killer. You keep Joseph in here and the door locked. Got that?”

  She nodded. “You be careful,” she added. “I’ve gotten used to you.”

  He smiled. “I’m bulletproof. Honest. See you.”

  “See you.”

  He went out the door, and closed it firmly behind him.

  WALKS FAR WAS AWAKE. He’d been talking to Bennett, who was standing close beside his bed. The men looked worn out and guilty. When they saw Cortez, both of them seemed to go pale.

  Cortez came in and closed the door behind him. He approached the bed, bristling with bad temper.

  “Where’s your sister?” he asked at once, his dark eyes lancing into Bennett’s blue ones.

  Bennett let out a harsh breath. “I don’t know,” he said curtly.

  “Running for the border, unless I miss my guess,” Walks Far said in a diminished, groggy tone. He stared up at Cortez. “You’ve figured it all out, haven’t you?”

  “I’ve figured out that you and your entourage are up to your necks in this double murder investigation.” His eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you both make it easy on yourselves and fill in the missing blanks for me? You know it’s all going to co
me out eventually.”

  Walks Far let out a defeated breath and Bennett gave him the grim nod to cooperate. “My wife was running around on me with the art dealer, Fred Norton, whom I met in prison. He robbed a museum in New York, with her help, and hid the loot in a cave on Yardley’s property. He got a job with Corland so that he could keep an eye on the cave, but from a safe distance, so it wouldn’t look as if he were that interested in Yardley’s site. Although he did try to get a job at Yardley’s operation when Corland fired him.”

  “Did you know about the stolen stuff all along?” Cortez inquired.

  Walks Far grimaced, holding his head. “Not this time. Fred stayed with us after we got out of prison. She started going off places alone, or supposedly alone, after Fred moved out and we came up here to work on this job. She’d kept free of crime for several years, or so I thought.”

  “She’d kept free of what?” Cortez exclaimed.

  Bennett and Walks Far exchanged glances. “Might as well come clean with all of it,” Bennett said in a resigned tone. He sat down beside Walks Far’s bed. “My sister was first arrested for theft at the age of sixteen. I paid the owner for the merchandise so he wouldn’t prosecute. But it didn’t stop. She took a priceless figurine and a jade necklace, equally rare, out of an exhibit of Chinese art. I couldn’t afford that payoff, so Walks Far took the rap for her, to make sure she wouldn’t have to go to prison.”

  “Which explains the theft on your record,” Cortez told the other Native American.

  Walks Far nodded. “She’d married me just before the theft. I thought she really cared. She did, until she met Fred. He stayed with us for a couple of months, since we both got out of prison at the same time.”

  “In between she took another piece of jewelry from a museum,” Bennett said. “I turned her in that time. She got probation, but she dumped toxic chemicals into a local stream and made sure the authorities came after me. I got probation, too, and a hefty fine.”

  “We’ve both made sacrifices for her,” Walks Far said miserably. “But it was never enough. She wanted designer clothes and expensive jewelry and flashy cars. She liked the thrill she got from stealing. I couldn’t give her what she needed. Fred obviously could.”