"Good morning, Mrs. Countryman," Danni said.
The seventy-something woman looked up, and a smile lit her face, which was shaded by her straw hat with a faded yellow ribbon around it. "Hello, Danielle." She began to push herself to her feet, and Nick took hold of her arm and helped her. "Thank you, young man." She eyed him closer. "You're the one I spoke to yesterday morning."
Nick's smile could've charmed a band of femi-nazis. "That's right. Nick Sirocco."
Danni frowned. He must've talked to the older woman after she went to meet Sam for breakfast.
"Yes, you were interested in the night Patrick died," Mrs. Countryman said.
Danni's glower intensified. "You didn't mention any of this to me," she said to Nick.
He shrugged. "It didn't seem important." He turned back to the older woman. "Your flowers are beautiful. You must give them a lot of loving care."
Two pink spots blossomed on Mrs. Countryman's wrinkled cheeks. "Since I don't teach any longer, my flowers have become my students. They must be tended with patience and attention."
"Your students must've liked you."
She chuckled. "Not all of them."
Danni smiled, remembering the times she thought Mrs. Countryman was a nosy old lady. Later, she'd realized the ex-teacher had only been concerned about her.
"Did you remember anything else about the night he died?" Nick asked.
Mrs. Countryman brushed her face with her gloved hand and left a smudge of dirt on her pink-rouged cheek. "When the police officer told me Patrick had killed himself, I didn't question him. However, after I spoke with you, I thought about that evening. He had a visitor about nine o'clock. I know it was nine because Will and Grace had just come on." She hid a naughty smile behind her hand. "If my students knew I watched such a show, they would—what's the word?—freak." She cleared her throat. "I glanced out my window, but all I could see was a tan or gray sedan."
"Did you see the driver?" Danni interrupted.
"Not then. However, I heard the car start later, after ER was done, and I was getting ready to retire for the night. I merely caught a glimpse of the back of his head, but I could tell he had long, light-colored hair."
"How long?"
"To his shoulders."
Danni exchanged a glance with Nick. She hadn't heard about an evening visitor the night her dad died. It appeared it was news to Nick, too.
"Did you hear anything while he was there?" Nick asked.
Mrs. Countryman shook her head. "But then, I was watching my programs."
"Thank you for the information," Danni said.
The woman's eyes narrowed behind her round spectacles. "I have this feeling you're involved in something dangerous, Danielle Hawkins."
"We're only interested in learning the truth."
Mrs. Countryman eyed her a moment longer, then turned her schoolteacher glare on Nick. "I see you spent the night with Danielle again, young man. I do hope your intentions are honorable."
"I had a migraine last night," Danni interjected. "Nick was kind enough to stay with me."
Mrs. Countryman merely arched a pencil-thin eyebrow.
"Good-bye, Mrs. Countryman," Danni said, anxious to escape her reproving gaze.
Nick leaned forward and thumbed away the dirt smudge on the older woman's cheek. "Good-bye."
Mrs. Countryman blushed. "Good-bye."
Bemused, Danni walked to her truck and unlocked it. Nick hopped into the passenger seat. Without looking at him, Danni turned the key in the ignition and pulled out onto the street.
"I've never seen Mrs. Countryman blush before," Danni commented.
"She reminds me of my grandmother," Nick admitted. "On my mother's side. You never would have believed she and my mom were related."
"Why didn't you live with her instead of your parents?" Danni asked, intrigued by this slice of Nick's past.
Nick turned to gaze out the window, giving Danni a view of the back of his head. "Her favorite saying was, 'You make your bed, you have to lie in it.' I guess she figured I was my mother's problem, not hers."
Without thought, Danni reached across the seat and gave Nick's knee a gentle squeeze. "You didn't get a break, did you?"
Nick turned, glanced down at her hand, then met her eyes. "Your father was my break." He covered her hand with his. "I don't know what would've happened to me if he hadn't been there."
Danni's throat grew tight, but the usual bitterness didn't materialize. She gave her attention to driving but kept her hand on his knee, where it was comfortably enveloped in his warm grasp.
Chapter Eleven
When they arrived at the office, Nick reluctantly released Danni's hand so she could turn off the ignition and withdraw the key. She'd surprised him when she'd rested her palm on his knee as they'd left Paddy's house. However, the biggest shock was that she'd kept her hand there the entire drive.
He waited on the uneven sidewalk for her to join him, kicking at the weeds coming up through the cracks. He didn't approve of the neighborhood where Danni's office was located, but then it wasn't his place to judge. However, now he understood the occasional remark Paddy had thrown out about his daughter's pride and refusal to accept any help. Nick had always liked women with a mind of their own, but Danni took the concept light-years beyond any other person—male or female—he'd met.
Danni joined him, and he allowed her to precede him into the building.
"Good morning," Cathy said, her voice far too chipper. Nearly half of her face was hidden by a blond curtain, and the one eye he could see possessed a lecherous twinkle. "What's wrong? Didn't get much sleep last night?"
Nick rolled his eyes heavenward. The woman had a one-track mind.
"Migraine," Danni simply said.
Cathy's impish expression disappeared, replaced by genuine concern. She tucked the obscuring hair behind her ear. "Oh, honey, you should be at home resting."
"It was gone this morning, thanks to Nick." Her gaze slid across him, as if embarrassed to admit she'd relied on someone other than herself. She glanced around. "Where's the newspaper?"
"In the break room. I read about the shooting at the youth center." Cathy's eyes widened. "Don't tell me—"
"We were there," Nick confirmed, glancing at Danni's somber expression. "Fortunately, no one was hurt."
Danni corroborated his words with a nod. "We don't know if it's related to Dad or Matt Arbor's deaths, though." She headed down the short hallway that Nick assumed led to the break room.
Nick started to follow, but Cathy stood and latched onto his arm.
"You aren't taking advantage of her, are you?" she asked, her voice pitched low.
The question was preposterous; he couldn't even fathom Danni allowing anybody to use her. But then he noticed Cathy's thinned lips and narrowed eyes. The woman was serious—so serious that Nick wouldn't put it past her to use a dull knife on his sensitive parts if he gave her the wrong answer, even in jest. "No."
Cathy kept her laser gaze locked on him, and Nick didn't dare look away. He'd known army interrogators with less brass than this tiny receptionist. He'd underestimated her, at least when it came to protecting her friends.
The smile she suddenly leveled at him would've done a barracuda proud. "Good. I'd hate to have to kick such a fine-looking butt." She waggled her eyebrows. "Unless you're into that sort of thing."
One moment she acted like a guardian angel, and the next, a nymphomaniac.
Women! He'd never understand them. Even Danni, who was more straightforward than her flaky friend, had her Sybil moments.
Danni came out of the break room, reading the paper as she navigated down the hall. She was so intent on the article, she almost walked into Cathy's desk. Nick shot out his arm to stop her before she collided with the corner.
Danni glanced up, acknowledged his assistance with an absent head bob, then returned her attention to the paper. "It says here that the authorities believe it was gang-related, and they have little hope of determining wh
o the actual shooter was."
Nick snatched the paper from Danni to scan the story himself. He swore under his breath. "If this had happened at some country club, the cops wouldn't be so fast to call it a lost cause."
"Welcome to the real world," Danni said, her lips curled in cynicism.
He shoved the paper under her nose. "You think this is right?"
Danni's temper flared. "No, but acting like it's a big surprise is naive. Don't tell me your Rangers never carried out a mission that was politically motivated rather than an actual threat against our national security."
Nick blanched at the memory of his last mission, when he'd lost his team members in the cause of "national security."
"Nick?"
Danni's voice startled him back from the oppressive humidity of the Central American jungle and the stench of death. It had been a long time since the suppressed memories had been disturbed. "What?"
"Are you ready to talk to Beth?"
He nodded quickly. Anything was better than dwelling on that chapter in his life.
"Just knock on her door and go in. She's expecting you," Cathy said.
Danni led Nick to a door opposite hers. He heard music from the lawyer's office. By the sounds of it, the attorney was a Pavarotti fan. Danni knocked and opened the door, sticking her head in. "Do you have a few minutes?" She'd raised her voice to be heard above the operatic solo.
Pavarotti was cut off in mid-aria.
"Come in," a woman said.
Nick followed Danni into the office, which was almost twice as large as Danni's. It was also more elaborately decorated, with a mahogany desk and matching barrister bookcases. The woman sitting behind the elegant desk peered at him with dark eyes above a pair of narrow reading glasses, which were perched on her slightly flared nose. Her curly black hair was cut close to her scalp, giving her a no-nonsense appearance. This was a person who didn't tolerate bullshit from anyone. However, her smile that greeted them was warm and friendly.
The lawyer rose and extended her hand across her desk. "Beth Marshal. So I finally meet the mysterious Nick Sirocco."
Nick grinned as he shook her hand, not surprised by her firm grip. "Not so mysterious, I'm afraid."
Beth laughed. "Sit down."
By habit, Nick waited until the two women were seated before he lowered himself to the chair beside Danni's.
Beth leaned back in her leather chair and removed her reading glasses, allowing them to hang from a silver chain around her neck. "Have you learned anything new about Matt's death?"
Danni shook her head. "We talked to the two officers who were first on the scene. They said there was nothing to suggest anything but suicide."
Beth's lips thinned. "He didn't kill himself."
"How can you be so certain?"
"He wanted to make a deal. He would give up the names of those in charge in exchange for no hard time."
Leaning forward, Nick planted his elbows on his thighs and hung his clasped hands between his knees. "Those in charge?"
Beth nodded. "Yes. Those were his exact words. I asked him what he was involved in, but he clammed up. He said he wouldn't tell me anything more until I could guarantee him no prison time."
"Prison would have been hell for a kid like him," Nick said. "He wouldn't have lasted more than a month or two, unless he got himself a protector." Paddy had told him the prison facts of life years ago, when Nick had been poised on the edge. His graphic descriptions of what cons did to fresh meat had fueled young Rocky's nightmares for weeks. It'd also helped him decide which side of the law he wanted to be on.
"Did you know him?" Beth asked.
"From the youth center. I was doing some volunteer work there with Danni's father."
Beth laced her fingers together and rested her hands on the desk blotter. "Then you probably know more about him than I did. Who did he hang around with? Maybe some of those kids are also involved."
"In what?" Danni asked. "Some kind of theft ring?"
Beth threw up her hands. "I don't know. I'm just throwing out possibilities here."
Nick slumped back in his chair and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. An organized crime ring operating out of the center sounded a lot like a plot idea he'd had for the book proposal he was putting together. Except Paddy had scoffed at its plausibility. With all of the off-duty cops who volunteered there, it would be impossible to hide something of that magnitude.
Unless an officer—or more than one—was involved.
"Did Matt talk about anyone in particular when he spoke with you?" Nick asked.
"Just Danni's father. He respected him." Beth's brow furrowed. "At first, Matt was adamant about not making a deal. It was only after Paddy Hawkins died that Matt changed his tune."
Nick's heartbeat kicked up a notch. "Why?"
The attorney lifted a shoulder and shook her head. "Your guess is as good as mine."
"He knew Dad was murdered," Danni said.
Nick turned to see dark savagery in her eyes. "You don't know that."
"Why else would Matt suddenly want to deal? And why else would someone then kill him before he could cut that deal?"
"All right. Let's operate under the assumption that both your father and Matt were murdered," Beth began in a logical, lawyerly voice. "Let's also assume Matt was working within an organized crime ring. Why would anyone murder two people over a stolen laptop?"
When Beth put everything together into such concise terms, Nick couldn't help but wonder if he was out in left field with his suspicions. Why would a small-time theft trigger a cavalcade of deadly events?
"Because it's not just small-time," Danni said with an air of certainty. "There's obviously more going on here than we're seeing." She stood, and Nick turned in his chair to watch her pace. "How was Matt caught?"
Beth pawed at some files on her desk and pulled one out. She lifted her reading glasses into place and scanned the file. "When he tried to pawn the laptop, the shop owner spotted the registration number on the hot sheet." She paused, meeting Danni's and Nick's gazes. "The computer was taken from the backseat of a stolen Jaguar."
"What?" Danni asked.
"The laptop computer Matt was caught fencing was from a stolen Jaguar," Beth reiterated.
Nick's spine tightened. "Did Matt steal the Jag?"
"He said he didn't."
"Was the car recovered?" Danni asked.
"As of the day before Matt died, no," Beth replied. "I don't know if it's been found since then."
"Why wasn't he charged with the theft of that, too?" Nick asked.
"No hard evidence."
"Matt being in possession of a laptop from a stolen car would be circumstantial, at best," Danni said, nodding somberly.
"Right," Beth said.
"For argument's sake, let's say Matt didn't commit grand theft auto. Did he lift the computer before or after the car was stolen?"
"That is your bailiwick, not mine," Beth said dryly.
"So Matt didn't tell you?"
"No. He admitted to trying to fence the stolen item, but that was all." Beth rested her elbows on the chair arms and steepled her fingers. "One thing I did notice. When he first came to see me, Matt was pretty cocky and certain he was only going to get his hand slapped by the courts. When I saw him after your father died, he was completely the opposite: anxious, frightened, almost to the point of paranoia. I tried to get him to tell me what was wrong, and that's when he offered to deal."
"He knew who killed Paddy," Nick said quietly.
"And that's why he was murdered, too," Danni added, equally as softly.
"It's all speculation," Beth argued. Then her expression fell. "And it's all we have."
Nick wanted to argue, but the lawyer was right. They needed something—something concrete—to support their claims.
"Marsel," Danni suddenly said.
Nick frowned. "What about him?"
"Who is he?" Beth asked, her question overlapping Nick's.
Danni blinked, as if s
urfacing from a trance. "He was one of Matt's friends. I think he knows what's going on, or at least he has a piece to the puzzle." Her features became more animated. "Last night, when we were all gathered in the corner of the gym, I talked to him."
Nick remembered seeing them together, and he'd wondered what she and Marsel were discussing.
"I asked him what Matt was into. He wouldn't answer. and he wouldn't look me in the eye. I'll bet he knows where Matt found that laptop. He might even know who stole the Jag."
"Why didn't you tell me this last night?" Nick asked, irritation coloring his tone.
"We were a little busy," Danni snapped. Then she relented a bit. "Besides, migraines make it a bitch to think."
Nick couldn't argue. He'd seen how devastating the headache had been for her. "All right," he said grudgingly. "Maybe I can get him to open up."
"What about the other boy Matt's mother mentioned?"
"Gary. I'm surprised he wasn't at the center last night. He's usually hanging around in the evenings."
Danni met Nick's gaze. "Maybe he knew what was going down."
"Or he was a part of it," Nick said reluctantly. He didn't want to believe Gary was capable of that level of violence, but how well did he know the kid? He'd shot a few hoops with him, but he had no idea what Gary did when he wasn't at the center.
"Do you know where he lives?" Danni asked Nick.
"No, but he does have a girlfriend." He furrowed his brow as he tried to remember her name. "Annie, Angie. No." The name struck him then. "Angela, that's it. And she was there last night."
"Which means if he was involved in the shooting, he didn't give a damn that his girlfriend was inside the gym." Danni's lips drew into a thin line, and her eyes flashed.
Nick held up his hand. "Slow down, Danni. We don't know for sure Gary was involved. Or that he knew his girlfriend would be there."
She struggled with her temper and finally sent Nick a brief nod. "You're right. I shouldn't jump to conclusions."
Beth chuckled without humor. "Seems to me we've done a lot of that."
"Jumping to conclusions and hypothesizing aren't the same," Nick said with an edge of annoyance. "Danni and I should go back to the center and see if anyone knows where Gary or his girlfriend live."
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