“Oh, I see. It’s one of those epinephrine pens for people with allergies.”
“Close, but not quite.” Mrs. Preston retrieved the object and then passed it to Caitlin. “I bet Dr. Cassidy will recognize this. It’s an auto-injector that contains naloxone.”
Spense’s brow lifted. “The opioid antagonist?”
“Yes.”
“I’m afraid I’m lost.” Brousseau scratched behind his ear.
Caitlin saw that Mrs. Preston was looking to her, the doctor in the group, to explain to Brousseau. “You were on the right track when you thought of an EpiPen, Jacques. This works in much the same way, only it rapidly reverses the effects of opioids instead of allergic reactions. So if you were the parent of a teen, addicted to heroin, for example, the doctor might provide you with one of these injectors. If you found your son or daughter near death due to an overdose, you could administer the naloxone and reverse the coma. It’s a little more complicated—repeated doses can be needed after an hour or so—but that’s the gist.”
“These injectors save lives. With a prescription, they’re perfectly legal. Tommy and I carry them everywhere we go.” Mrs. Preston’s hands flew up in an animated fashion. “We’ve got an epidemic of teen heroin use in our county. Tommy’s very involved in a program that finds resources for these kids and their families. And he’s determined that everyone who might someday have use for one of these rescue injectors has access to them—they’re quite expensive, I’m afraid. Every cop and first responder in Riverbend knows how to use them. And if they forget, the injector actually gives verbal instructions. If you like, I’m sure Tommy would be happy to sponsor some of these for your men, Inspector. Shall I look into it?”
Brousseau had been listening intently. “I’d be very grateful.”
“Consider it done. You keep that one. I’ve got another in my room.” Mrs. Preston sat back, apparently satisfied that everyone at the table understood that Tommy Preston was the salt of the earth.
Caitlin passed the auto-injector to Brousseau who rolled it between his fingers and then pocketed it.
“Tommy sounds almost too good to be true.” Spense broke the silence.
His remark caused Heather Preston’s shoulders to hunch.
“Hard to believe anyone would have a grudge against him. Can you think of any reason his brand-new bride, Rose, would want to hurt him?” Spense didn’t look away and neither did Mrs. Preston.
Her lips thinned, and Caitlin could see the mamma bear in her emerging. Her gentle expression clouded over, then toughened up. This woman would definitely defend her cub if she thought he was being threatened.
“None whatsoever.”
“But, allegedly, Rose tried to murder him. So she must’ve had some reason.” Caitlin inched her chair closer to the table and leaned forward. She kept her tone casual. “Is there any chance your son might have a different side to his personality?”
“Like what?”
“Has he ever hit you? Have you ever seen or heard about him hitting someone else?”
“Domestic abuse. I know that’s what you think.” Mrs. Preston slapped her hand on the table, making the silverware rattle. “Hell no. Tommy never laid a hand on his bride or anyone else. The only reason a person would ever want to hurt him is if they were crazy. So there’s your answer. Rose Parker is a nut. And I’m done here.”
“Rose may be a nut, but she’s also my wife, Mother.” Tommy Preston strolled into the Grotto Bar just in time to hear his mother’s rousing defense.
“Not for long.” Heather folded her arms across her chest.
“Sorry I’m late, but I had a surprise visit from Lilly Parker.”
“How’s she holding up?” Mrs. Preston asked, the storm in her expression calming somewhat with the arrival of her son.
“Not that well, I’m afraid. But I did my best to let her know I don’t blame her.” The server hurried over with a chair, but before they could rearrange in order to squeeze in another spot for Tommy, his mother got to her feet.
“You’re too good, sweetheart. Call me when you’re done. I want to go on one of those submarine rides.”
“Why don’t you get in touch with our concierge and have him book us a spot? But let’s make it sooner rather than later. I’m afraid I’m all done in. I’ll probably go to bed before sundown.” Tommy embraced his mother, then took her place at the table.
Heather Preston raised her hand in a half wave, or maybe a good riddance, and made a beeline for anywhere but there.
Ask me anything she’d said.
Except whether your son beats his wife.
As for Tommy, he sat like he was balancing a book on his head. Could be his usual posture, but Caitlin guessed sore ribs were to blame.
Spense and Tommy stretched their legs at the same time, and Caitlin saw them jump when their feet met.
“Excuse me,” Tommy said.
“No worries. I guess we share the curse of the tall man.”
Tommy sent him a questioning look.
“Always having to make amends for kicking our table mates.” Spense grinned.
Tommy grinned back. He had a friendly ease about him that made him quite likable. Maybe it wasn’t fair for Caitlin to psychoanalyze him without getting to know him first. She had to admit she was suspicious primarily because his bride had shot him.
That’s victim blaming.
Something she prided herself on avoiding at all costs.
But one thing was certain.
Rose shot Tommy.
So they couldn’t both be innocents.
Either Lilly was covering for Rose, or Heather was covering for Tommy.
Or else either Rose or Tommy or both was very, very good at hiding his or her true self from those closest to them.
Her head was starting to swim.
Spense pulled his Rubik’s cube from his pocket and set it on the table in front of him.
She almost reached for it.
“What’d I miss?” Tommy picked up the Rubik’s cube, making Caitlin glad she hadn’t. Playing with a puzzle might distract him and put him off his guard. For Spense it had the opposite effect. It helped him focus. But for most people . . .
“Don’t tell me. My mother told you I was Superman.” He flashed them that charming smile of his. “Don’t believe her. I work hard, but I’m just a regular Joe doing my best to get along in the world.”
“A regular Joe with businesses all over Texas and Man of the Year twice.” Caitlin tossed her hair flirtatiously, drawing a knock-it-off look from Spense.
But Spense had little to worry about since Tommy only seemed interested in the cube. “I used to play around with these as a kid. I’m pretty good at it. You should time me.”
“Go for it,” Spense said, hitting a dial on his watch.
Tommy’s fingers flew over the multicolored squares. He handed the cube back to Spense with a triumphant flourish and a seated bow. “How’d I do?”
“Thirty-five seconds. Not bad,” Spense said. “And you’re right, your mother gave us the scoop on Tommy Preston and his rags to riches story—not to mention his community service. I think we got most of what we need already, but do you mind if I ask a follow-up question?”
“Not at all.”
“You’re awfully cool and collected considering your bride shot you and then escaped from jail. I mean she must have some monster grudge against you to do that. If I were you, I’d be worried she’d turn up out of the blue and try to finish what she started. I’m surprised you declined protection.”
“Is that the follow-up question?”
“I’m just saying I’d watch my back if I were you.”
“Appreciate the advice, Agent Spenser. But I can take care of myself. In case my mother didn’t mention it, I’ve been around dangerous women in the past. Now that I understand Rose’s proclivity for violence, I’ll be prepared. And aside from feeling a bit wrung out, I’m physically fit. My wounds are more to my ego—and my heart—of course my hea
rt.”
“Well, you’re doing a great job of keeping the hurt inside.” Caitlin smiled sweetly. “Guess you had a lot of practice at that.”
A muscle twitched in Tommy’s jaw.
Spense twirled his cube in the air. “Time me, Caity?”
She pressed the stopwatch function on her cell. Spense worked his magic and set the cube down. “Well?”
Both men looked at her.
She checked the timer.
Interesting.
Spense’s personal best for solving a Rubik’s cube was six point five seconds. Only on rare occasions had she seen him take more than ten. “Thirty-nine seconds,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Spense.
“You win, buddy.” Spense offered a handshake to Tommy.
His shoulders opened and that uptight posture of his relaxed. “It was close though.”
“Sure.” Spense kicked back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “Ready for my follow-up question.”
“Fire away.”
“Who’s this Pamela Jean everyone’s talking about?”
For a split second, Tommy’s smile disappeared. It returned so quickly Caitlin wondered if she’d imagined the change in his visage. He seemed calm and collected now.
His eyes moved up and to the right.
Either he was genuinely trying to place the name, or he’d been schooled in neuro linguistics and knew Spense and Caitlin probably had been, too.
He could’ve mastered the art of body language in business school, and he just might have a motive to pull that skill out of his tool chest now.
Caitlin didn’t mind. She enjoyed a challenge.
“Funny you should ask. Lilly just posed the same question. I don’t recall meeting a Pamela Jean. But then again, I meet a lot of people so it’s tough to say for certain. Maybe if you tell me her last name it might ring a bell.”
“Don’t have a last name for you. But I think you’d known her by her first name.” Spense scooped his cube up and put it back in his pocket. “The Pamela Jean in question is a prostitute. Does that help?”
“I’m not going to claim I’ve never been with a lady of the evening.” He offered Caitlin an apologetic glance. “I was young once, which is a poor excuse. It was only one time, and I remember her name very well. I think it would be indelicate for me to reveal it, but I will say she didn’t call herself Pamela Jean.” Thinking on it, he tapped his chin. “Maybe she used a pseudonym. A woman in her profession might not tell me her real name. So, my answer is I don’t think I know a Pamela Jean, but I can’t swear to it under oath.”
Spense nodded.
“Good point about the false name,” Caitlin said. She had no idea if Pamela Jean was a pseudonym either. She didn’t even know if there was a Pamela Jean. Lilly seemed convinced Rose had made the story up as a means of getting Lilly to break up with Tommy so she could have him for herself. “But we have ways to track these things down. So how about you get over the indelicacy of it all and give us the name your prostitute gave you. We’ll take it from there.”
“She wasn’t my prostitute. I told you it was just the one time. Back in my college days—on a dare from my buddies. Her name was ‘Austin.’” Tommy made air quotes with his fingers. “Now that I think about it, it seems likely that was a fake name, but you never know, she could’ve been named after the town. Maybe her parents were UT alumni or something.” He turned his palms up.
Caitlin frowned.
Tommy had picked up on one of Spense’s mannerisms and imitated it—which was a subtle way of winning a person over. Might be coincidence, but more likely it was confirmation that Tommy Preston was adept at manipulation.
“I was with ‘Austin’ a total of about ten minutes.” Air quotes again. “I paid her $100 mostly so I could fit in with the rest of the guys. The whole thing didn’t really float my boat. I had trouble, excuse me for saying, getting hard, so I never went back.”
Oh yeah. Tommy was good. He’d admitted, or invented his performance problem to make the story seem more believable, and to make himself seem like less of a creep—which only made him seem like more of one to Caitlin.
“Now it’s my turn for a follow-up question,” Tommy said. “Have you heard anything more about the whereabouts of my beautiful bride?”
“We’ll get back to you on that.” Spense turned his palms up with an exaggerated flare that told Caitlin he recognized the slick on Tommy.
“I hope you’re being sincere, because I think I deserve some answers.”
He might deserve a lot more than answers. But only time would tell.
Her phone vibrated. She glanced at the message.
Or maybe they’d all get their answer right now. Rose Parker Preston had just been sighted at the hotel.
Chapter 19
Thursday
Hôtel De Plage Dauphin
Tahiti Nui
They didn’t have to go far. Inspector Brousseau took off, under false pretenses, for the pool area, where Rose had reportedly been sighted. Spense and Caity steered Tommy in the opposite direction, then took their leave after promising to keep him updated on any new developments. Nobody wanted Preston interfering with the potential bust of his bride. Once they had Tommy safely out of the way, Spense and Caity joined Brousseau, whom they found skulking behind a newspaper at the Hibiscus Pool.
“False alarm.” The inspector lowered his paper and indicated a pretty young woman with bright blond hair and brighter lipstick. A small crowd, if you can call three a crowd, had gathered around her.
Lilly.
“I should have known,” Brousseau said. “We’re going to be getting a lot of false reports with Lilly running around. And I don’t have the resources to track them all down.”
“Lilly’s cooperative,” Caity said. “Why don’t you just ask her nicely to keep you informed of her whereabouts. That way if someone reports a Rose sighting, you can eliminate whether or not it’s Lilly without sending a man out.”
“Smart lady.” Brousseau checked his cell again. “But I have to go. We just had another sighting—this one’s at Heritage Townhomes and it obviously can’t be Lilly. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind speaking to her for me?”
“No problem,” Spense said. “You got a number where she can check in?”
Brousseau passed him a card. “Just have her give her itinerary to my assistant, and please, ask her to answer any calls from this number.”
“Will do.” Spense clapped Brousseau on the back. “Go ahead. We’ll handle Lilly Parker.”
Caity tugged his sleeve. “What’s going on over there?”
A gentleman with graying hair shook his finger at Lilly, turned, and stalked away. A man and a woman moved in closer, peering at something in her hand.
“Let’s just hang out and watch for a minute,” Caity suggested.
Fine with him. He was still trying to get a bead on Rose’s twin. He only trusted her so far, given how protective she was of her sister. They moved in close enough to eavesdrop, knowing that Lilly could see them if she turned ninety degrees. But it didn’t matter. When the jig was up, it was up. Lilly had done nothing illegal as far as they knew, and they weren’t here to arrest her.
“How come, if this map is real, you’re willing to sell it to us?” The woman, mid-forties, gym rat, and likely an American, asked.
Lilly pulled away the item in her hand, now identified as a map, rolled it, and held it against her chest. “I’m not.”
“But you just said we could have it.” The man, who was approximately the same height and age as the woman and wore a matching T-shirt that read, Leverant Family Reunion, planted his hands on his hips.
Lilly backed up a step. “I never said this map was for sale. I said I was looking for an investor. I’m afraid I can’t let you and Jill have the map under any circumstances. I never should have shown it to you, but I wanted you to have a peek, just so you’d know it was real.”
Spense elbowed Caity gently. “Gauguin’s Gold?”
 
; Caity smiled. “Looks like. You up for a treasure hunt?”
He touched the Rubik’s cube in his pocket and shook his head. “I should’ve thought of that myself, back at the jail.”
“It’s only a hunch,” she said, then put her fingertip to her lips, indicating they should shut up and listen.
“Come on, Harold, this is nonsense.” Jill frowned at Lilly then turned her back in a huff.
Harold, whom Spense surmised must be husband to Jill, reached out and caught her by the hand. “Hold on. I’ve been hearing stories about this gold all over town. I want to hear this young woman out.”
“Well I don’t. She keeps changing her tune. Sounds like a bunch of hooey to me. We’re more likely to strike it rich buying a lottery ticket, and that don’t cost ten thousand dollars.”
Caity and Spense exchanged a glance. Lilly wasn’t just selling treasure maps at five dollars a pop. This was the kind of thing that could get her in serious trouble. Maybe she was thinking ahead, trying to raise money for her sister’s legal bills.
“You better go, Harold,” Lilly said. “I don’t think Jill wants—”
“My wife doesn’t make the decisions. I’m the man of the family.”
Lilly gave him a stern look. “No way.”
“No way what?”
“No way I bring you on as an investor without Jill’s okay. I’m a woman, and I need a business partner. And that partner needs to show respect for women. If this is how you treat your wife, it’s not going to work out for us. Suppose I brought you in on this deal, and then you tried to cut me out the way you’re cutting your wife out now?”
For some reason—probably her meek personality—Spense had gotten the impression Lilly wasn’t good at conning people, but at the moment, she was doing a hell of a job. She’d already landed Harold. Now she was reeling Jill in one-handed. And even though she had a higher chance of being caught at the hotel than on the street, if she did get busted, the penalty would be low. This was a target rich environment, tipping the risk-reward ratio in her favor. As far as he could tell Lilly was as smooth an operator as any he’d seen.
“I’m not cutting Jill out of any deal. I only said I make the decisions,” Harold retorted.
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