“Your prowler managed to get over it.”
Nicole’s mouth went dry. “Yes, he did. But I didn’t climb a rope and go over the fence that night.”
Waters wrote in his notebook. Ray wrote in his. He said he was going to give me an alibi, Nicole thought. I told him not to lie for me. But now I’m scared. Now I wish he’d say something. “Sergeant Waters, I believe I’ve said all I want to without my lawyer being present.”
“What are you afraid of?” Waters asked.
“I’m not afraid. I’m just not stupid.” She glanced at her watch. “Besides, it’s time for my next class, so unless you plan to arrest me…”
“Not now,” Waters said lazily. “Ray, the lady’s got a class. Guess we’d better be on our way.”
Ray nodded. They stood. “We’ll be talking with you again, ma’am,” Waters added.
“Very well,” she said in a steady voice that belied her pounding heart. “But the next time my lawyer will be present.”
After they left, Nicole put her head on her desk. Oh, God, she thought. Now I know how Paul felt fifteen years ago—scared, baffled, all evidence building against him, and no one to come to his defense.
2
Nicole was just leaving her office when the phone rang. She almost didn’t answer but at the last minute decided it might be something important.
“Nicole,” Ray said. “I was afraid I’d miss you.” Nicole could hear traffic noises in the background. “Where are you?”
“I’m using my cell phone. Cy’s in a restaurant picking up coffee for us.”
“Isn’t that what drive-through windows are for?”
“Cy likes the coffee here. You sound angry.” Nicole was silent. “You’re wondering why I didn’t say anything in your office today. Look, Nicole, I have to appear somewhat objective. Cy’s already making assumptions about our relationship. What I wanted to tell you is you don’t have to worry about an alibi. The patrolman outside your house saw you moving around inside, even saw your face at a window at the approximate time of the Smith woman’s death.”
Nicole breathed in relief. “Why didn’t Waters tell me?”
“He wanted to scare you. But Nicole, I had every intention of telling him I’d had a long phone conversation with you from about ten-thirty to eleven-thirty if it had come to that.”
“I’m glad it didn’t. I wouldn’t want to be the cause of problems with your career. But I wish I’d known this morning. Waters did scare me.”
“Sorry. I didn’t find out about what the patrolman said until a couple of hours before we questioned you. I never had a minute alone to give you a call.”
“All right, Ray. I’m glad you let me know. Maybe I can stop shaking now.”
“Just relax, Nicole. I know this has been awful, but justice will be served.”
The phone went dead. Probably Ray had seen Waters coming back to the car. “Justice will be served,” Ray had said. She wished that made her feel better, but it didn’t because she knew Ray believed justice would only be served if Paul Dominic were captured and prosecuted.
3
“Thank goodness today is over,” Nicole muttered, closing her briefcase, picking up a couple of books and her purse, and leaving the office. She knew she’d been more on target with her teaching than she had for days, but she was still exhausted.
She took the elevator down. In the large main hall, students milled around, forming into groups, laughing, picking up pamphlets someone was handing out. The place was always a scene of activity, a place to hang out between classes or just get together to socialize. Nicole passed through the crowd, nodding at familiar faces. Then her steps slowed as she saw Miguel and Lisa. Clearly they were arguing, Lisa’s color high, Miguel gesticulating, his voice loud. As Nicole neared them, she heard Miguel say, “I don’t know why I even bother with you!”
Miguel stalked off without ever seeing Nicole. She walked up to Lisa. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” Lisa’s cheeks grew even redder. “That was a shot in the dark, but I’m right.”
“Miguel doesn’t have anything to offer me. I’m with Roger.”
“And what does he have to offer you? I know he’s nice-looking and well educated, but he’s also twenty years older than you and a college professor. After he pays child support, he’s not going to be able to give you the good life.”
“Not now.”
“What do you mean, not now? What do you think is going to change?”
“His mother can’t live forever.”
“You’re counting on an inheritance. Well, don’t. She’s furious with Roger for deserting Shelley and me.”
Lisa’s eyes simmered. “I know that. She hangs up when he calls. But she’ll get over it.”
“I wouldn’t count on it. She’s never exactly doted on Roger, and now she’s angry with him and disappointed in him. I doubt if she gives him a penny.”
“She would have. She would have forgiven him. Everything would have been great.”
Her eyes filled with tears while Nicole’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve taken one shot in the dark. Let me try another. Roger no longer wants to marry you.”
Lisa’s face set obstinately. “Yes he does.”
“I don’t think so. I think he realizes he made a big mistake getting involved with you. That’s what you mean by ‘would have.’ Things would have been great if he hadn’t decided to throw in the towel.”
“That’s not true! He doesn’t love you anymore, Nicole.”
“I know. But in leaving his family, he tore up his life. His mother won’t have anything to do with him and will probably write him out of her will, not that she had a fortune to leave, anyway. He’s separated from Shelley, whom he does love. She’s so bitter she doesn’t even want to be around him. His friends don’t accept you or him when he’s with you.” Nicole tilted her head. “That’s why he’s drinking so much. He’s miserable.”
“You just want him back!”
“No. If he came to me tomorrow, I wouldn’t take him back. The damage is done. He’s already lost everyone who meant anything to him.”
Lisa glared. “He’ll feel different when everyone realizes what a nut you are,” she shouted. “When everyone knows all the awful things you’ve done lately, they’ll understand why he left you. They won’t blame him or me. His mother will forgive him, and he’ll get Shelley like he wants. Then he’ll be happy again. We’ll be happy.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Nicole said slowly. “You’d like for everyone to think I’m crazy. How far would you go, Lisa? Far enough to make me look like a murderer?”
Lisa’s eyes flashed at her. Then she turned and ran from the building.
4
Nicole’s mind churned as she drove home. So Roger didn’t want Lisa anymore. She supposed she should feel like gloating, but she didn’t. She realized now that her marriage had been over long before Roger left in January. Lisa had simply speeded up the inevitable.
Besides, it was clear both Roger and Lisa had each lost what they wanted most Roger wanted Shelley and the respect of his mother and his peers. His colleagues might be more receptive to him after he got rid of Lisa, but the damage his relationships with his mother and Shelley had sustained could probably never be completely repaired. And Lisa had apparently lost Miguel, which meant he’d been lying when he said there was nothing between them. How many other things had he lied about? Carmen had said Lisa’s parents sent her to college in Ohio to get her away from “some weird guy” in San Antonio. Could that have been Miguel?
Nicole stiffened. Had Miguel been watching her the last two weeks? Could all along Miguel have been both her protector and her tormentor?
If that were true, then he would have made the call she’d received from someone imitating Magaro. But how could Miguel have possibly known what Magaro said to her the night of the rape?
Simple, she thought as she stopped at a light. The information highway. Magaro told Bobby, Bobby told Lisa, and Lisa told Mig
uel. Maybe Miguel was going along with Lisa’s plan back then. Or maybe he was just trying to scare me so I’d turn to some man for protection, hopefully him. Or perhaps the information stopped with Bobby. Maybe it was Bobby on the phone that night. He’d certainly love to frighten me.
When she pulled into her driveway, she noted that the patrol car was still in front of the house. Well, at least she was providing fodder for the local gossips, she thought. Probably the only person who found it exciting instead of frightening was Newton Wingate, whom she frequently saw talking to the patrolmen. “Just brushing up on my police procedure,” he’d called to her one day, smiling merrily. “I’m thinking of writing a murder mystery.”
“Am I your inspiration?” she’d asked, amused.
Newton looked at her waggishly. “My dear, you’d inspire any man.”
But Newton was nowhere to be seen today. Maybe hard at work on his typewriter, she thought. Inside the house, Nicole sorted through the mail, noting there were no bills and no postcards, kicked off her shoes, and poured a glass of iced tea. I am so tired, she thought. So terribly tired. She set her glass on the coffee table and stretched out on the couch. In five minutes she was sleeping soundly.
It was night. She walked through the brush and voices floated toward her. “She thought she had us,” Magaro was saying.
“She almost did,” Zand answered, snorting something.
“No she didn’t. It would have been better if we could have killed her like I wanted, but she still couldn’t hurt us. I got too many friends, man. I told you I’d come up with an alibi.” Her right hand squeezed around something metal. It fit perfectly within her palm. It gave her a feeling of power. “I said I’d keep you out of prison, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, you did.”
“And you promised me something in return. I’ll tell you what I want. No more of this roadie stuff. I got talent, man. I shouldn’t be haulin’ around equipment I should be on the drums.”
“Vega’s on drums. He’s been with the band from the beginning.”
“So? You get rid of him. No big deal.”
“That wouldn’t be easy, man. I wouldn’t know how to do it.”
There was a long, ominous silence. “You never know how to do anything, do you?” Magaro hissed in disgust She saw the flash of an all-too-familiar knife. “You get rid of Vega, or he might meet an unfortunate fate, worse than the girl’s. At least she lived, although I’d still like to get this knife in her throat for all the trouble she caused.”
And then there was a crunching in the grass. Someone approached the two men, someone tall, someone she couldn’t quite see. Her fingers tightened on the object in her hand.
“All right, Magaro, take it easy,” Zand was saying. “If you want Vega out, he’s out. Put that damned knife away.”
The shadowy figure was off to her right, moving toward Magaro and Zand. She frowned, her sharp eyes piercing the clear night. Then, in the light of the moon, she caught a glimpse of the face…
The figure turned. Clifton Sloan looked directly into her eyes. “Nikki!” He rushed to her. Magaro and Zand were laughing uproariously at something. They hadn’t seen or heard them. They also didn’t see a third figure hovering near Nicole and Clifton. Clifton peered at her. “You’re sleepwalking again.” He dropped a gun into the grass. “Oh, God, you’re barefoot.” He lifted her, knocking the flashlight out of her hand. “We’re going home, sweetheart. We’re going home and you’re going to forget all about this.”
As he swung her around, heading for the road, she caught one last glimpse of the other figure standing absolutely still, watching them. The face. She could barely see the face…
Nicole bolted up from the couch, her heart hammering. “Oh, dear God!” she cried. “I was there that night. And so was my father. With a gun. My father had come there to kill Zand and Magaro!”
Twenty-Seven
1
At dusk Nicole was still pacing around the living room, stunned by the buried knowledge her dream had revealed. Her gentle, gun-hating father had intended to kill Magaro and Zand. What was his plan? To leave his hotel in Dallas and drive to San Antonio, kill Zand and Magaro, then drive back to Dallas and be there for his morning meeting? It could be easily done. Dallas was less than two hundred miles from San Antonio. And the police had verified that he was seen in the hotel at ten o’clock in the evening, and again the next morning at eight. His plan would have worked, but he hadn’t counted on seeing his daughter in Basin Park. That had stopped him from committing murder.
Or had it? Had he taken her home, put her to bed, and gone back to finish the job? Would Zand and Magaro have still been there? Would he have been able to find the gun again? Would he have set up Paul to look like the murderer?
She sat down, twisting her hands in her lap. What should she do with this knowledge? Call Ray? Would it diffuse his certainty that Paul was a killer? Maybe. It would also cast a terrible light on her father.
But there was a third person out there that night. She’d seen the silhouette. Could she identify that person? No. Could she prove that person had murdered Magaro and Zand after she and her father left? No. If Ray even believed her story about the third person, he would probably think it was Paul.
She was certain it wasn’t. So who was it? Carmen, as Lisa believed? Nicole concentrated on the memory. The person had been taller than she, and certainly heavier, but beyond that she could remember nothing. Could it have been Bobby, wanting only to kill Magaro because he was forcing Zand to kick him out of The Zanti Misfits? But why would he have killed Zand? Could that murder have been an accident? Or could it have simply been an unknown, crazy person who’d seen her father drop the gun and seized an opportunity?
Abruptly Nicole realized she had a splitting headache. She went into the kitchen, downing two more aspirin as she glanced out the window. It was dark now. She’d been pacing and thinking for over an hour, and she still didn’t have any answers.
She went back and lay on the couch, waiting for the aspirin to take effect, glad Shelley wasn’t here to see her in this condition. Would her life ever return to normal? Would this mystery ever be solved? Or would she end up in prison?
She was still lying in the dark when the phone rang. Oh, no, she thought. How can I possibly sound normal if it’s Shelley or Ray?
Nicole rolled off the couch and stumbled into the kitchen, banging her knee on the coffee table along the way. “Hello?”
A moment of silence spun out. Finally Paul said in a raspy, pain-ridden voice, “Nicole, come to the Mission San Juan. I need you.”
Then the line went dead.
2
Nicole stood holding the phone for a few seconds. What could have happened? Had she led someone to Paul less than twenty-four hours ago?
Without hesitation, she bolted for the bedroom, and nearly tore off her suit. Within minutes she was in jeans and a sweater. She pulled a jacket over her clothes, stuffed her gun in the pocket, then picked up the bedroom phone and called the taxi company, once again directing them to pick her up on the street behind hers as soon as possible.
As she ran through the darkened living room, she remembered Ray saying the night Avis had been murdered, the patrolman outside had seen her moving around inside: The men sent to watch her were clearly alerted to survey for normal light patterns, and here it was pitch-dark, not one light glowing in the living room. Quickly she went around, turning on lamps and even the television. She pulled back the sheer curtains, looking outside, just in case he was looking back and could see her face. Then she drew one set of draperies. All looked normal for eight-thirty on a week night.
Next she went to the basement and retrieved her ladder. She went out the back door and propped the ladder against the fence. Two minutes later the ladder lay in the backyard of the empty house, and she had made another successful drop to the ground. She arrived at the sidewalk just as the taxi pulled up.
“The Mission San Juan,” she said, climbing into the backseat.
The driver turned around. “Not again!”
Nicole looked at him. “Good lord, what are the chances of getting the same taxi driver two nights in a row?”
“Slim. Look, lady, I told you I don’t like it out there.”
“Didn’t I pay you double last night? Didn’t you make more than you would have in a normal night?”
“Yeah,” he said grudgingly.
“Did any harm come to you?”
“Well, no.”
“Then what’s the problem? I’ll pay double the fare again tonight. You could use the extra money, couldn’t you?”
“Okay.” He shook his head. “But if you’re havin’ an affair, lady, I’d suggest you find a better place like everyone else. This is weird.”
“Please just drive. I’m in a hurry.”
“You’re always in a hurry. I’d sure like to know what this guy’s got goin’ for him. No woman would do this for me.”
You’re not Paul Dominic, she thought. I’d do anything for Paul if he needed me.
But what could be wrong? Nicole asked herself as they crossed the city, this trip slower than the last one because it was earlier in the evening. If someone had caught up with Paul, why would they be holding him at the mission? It certainly couldn’t be the police or Paul would be in custody. What about Miguel? Carmen? Maybe even Lisa or Bobby?
But perhaps Paul wasn’t being held at all. Maybe he’d been badly hurt and taken refuge at the mission instead of going to a hospital, which would be too dangerous. If that were the case, though, why hadn’t he gone to his mother’s? Fear of Rosa? And what could she do for him?
After what seemed an interminable ride, they finally arrived at the mission. “Don’t tell me,” the driver said. “You want me to wait.”
“Yes. Do I have to pay up to this point?” Nicole asked.
“No. You were good for the fare last night. I guess I trust you.”
Thank heavens, Nicole thought, remembering she only had ten dollars in her purse and no checkbook. He’d have to wait until she returned home to get paid.
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