Rafael rolled one muscular shoulder. “Talvez. Maybe,” he corrected.
“You were shagging Tracy Good.” Nick controlled his temper because he wanted to shred skin and that never looked good in a police report.
Rafael looked away and expelled a deep breath. Shrugged again as though it didn’t matter. “Sim. We had sex if that’s what shagging is.” He looked back at Nick, his face carefully blank of expression. Too blank, too controlled. “She like sex. I like sex.”
“You lied during a police investigation, Romeo. That’s obstruction of justice and I can bust your balls onto the next flight to Rio just for that.”
Rafael’s face bleached beneath his tan and a nerve ticked in his jaw. “I didn’t hurt her. I just want no trouble with the polícia.” He appealed to Nick with those pretty eyes, but they didn’t work on him. Nick knew what hid behind the shiny façade. A rapist. It must have shown on his face because Rafael’s expression closed up as he looked away.
“Ah, you’ve found out my mau past.” The words were punctuated with a hard expulsion of air. The Brazilian crushed the cigarette beneath his sneakers and picked up the butt, staring up at the sky like a martyr. Nick hoped a seagull shat on his face, but neither of them was that lucky.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Nick invited.
Rafael’s lip thinned and he didn’t look so pretty now. “I no care to discuss it.”
“Then you’d better pack your bags, sunshine, because I don’t have time to fuck around.” With feigned indifference Nick started back up the beach. “I’ll have your case file in half an hour anyway. Go say goodbye to your boss because—”
“Não!” Rafael stood rigid, his eyes burning with what looked like tears.
Poor baby. Nick stopped walking and stared at the young man, waiting.
“I had sex with the wrong girl!” Rafael’s fingers constricted into fists as if to contain his emotions. “I was nineteen and stupid.” He stared at the sand, then back at Nick, his eyes a curious mixture of beseeching and pissed. “I picked up a girl in Copacabana and we went dancing and had sex.” He closed his eyes and raised his face to the sky. “I was drunk.”
He muttered something in Portuguese that sounded like a prayer, opened his eyes and looked straight into Nick’s eyes. “She was fourteen and the authorities would have done nothing except the little puta found out my family was rich and cried rape.”
Anger settled low in Nick’s stomach. “You had sex with a fourteen-year-old and expect me to feel sorry for you?”
Rafael spat. “Feel sorry for her if you want, she said she was legal, and I was drunk enough to believe her.” Rafael peered down his arrogant nose. “I didn’t ask her to chupar meu pau.”
Nick didn’t know what chupar meu pau was, but figured it wasn’t a peck on the cheek. “The charges were dropped?”
Silently Rafael drew a line in the sand, stood looking down at it. The wind was getting up, cooling the temperature, cooling Nick’s temper.
“My father paid her off.” The self-loathing on the boy’s face made Nick pause.
“There is a saying in Brazil. Prisons are for BPPs—black people, poor people and prostitutes.” Rafael’s lip twisted. “My father was proud of me that day.”
“So you came over here to screw older girls?”
Rafael laughed, his eyes traveling slowly down Nick’s length as if to disconcert him, but Nick was too old for that crap. “Perhaps. I like sex, but I am not a violent man, Detective.”
“Then why did Lily lie to me about being with you on Saturday night?” Nick’s voice shook with renewed rage, except it wasn’t rage, it was betrayal and it caused a pain in his chest that was new and frightening.
“I not know.” Rafael stuffed his hands in his pockets and frowned. “Lily and I are friends. That is not easy, but it is…interesting,” he admitted, his eyes softening. “She thought I needed an álibi. You must tell her everything, I suppose?”
Nick stared at the cocky bastard and didn’t know whether to ignore him or flatten him. “Where were you after you left the bar?”
“With a woman.” Rafael’s eyes turned opaque, impossible to read.
“Name?”
Another self-depreciating smile tugged the corners of Rafael’s lips. “I didn’t ask her name. Just her age. She liked my accent.” His eyes twinkled, saying just how much women liked his accent, the arrogant, smarmy, little shite.
“So what will it be Detective? Will you make my father proud again and throw me out of the country for shagging?”
Nick took a single step toward Rafael, tension spiking. There was nothing Nick would like more than to rough up that pretty face. But he stopped and they stared at each other. One with dirty secrets. The other with secrets as dark as sin.
The beat of Nick’s heart was heavy in his chest. “If you had anything to do with Tracy Good’s murder, deportation will be the least of your worries. And if you touch Lily with that overactive dick of yours, I’ll rip it off and stuff it down your throat. Daddy won’t be able to get you out of this one, pal. Got it?”
Rafael nodded, clenching his jaw against whatever response he wanted to make. Nick strode away, kicking up sand. Vaulted the seawall and climbed the embankment, glancing to where Tracy had taken her last agonized breath. It was easy to forget about Tracy. There were no relatives baying for justice. No friends weeping with grief. Just men who’d used her for sex and no one who really gave a shit. He looked back at Rafael Domenici, who stood smoking yet another cigarette. The worthless sack of…
And Nick shouldn’t give a damn because he had Tracy’s killer in custody, but Lily, closer than blood, had lied to him.
Why?
He glanced at the Gatty building and checked his watch. Two o’clock. He hovered uncertainly beside his SUV, unnerved because he wanted to go see Susie for a few minutes before he headed off to question Lily. But he was working and only had an hour before he was due to re-interview Judy Sizemore. And although he could make the accused wait, it wouldn’t go down well with the Crown Office.
His stomach churned as he unlocked his car door and got in, Rocket jumping over the seat to lick his face. Nick gave the dog a quick rub under his chin and started the engine. Right now, Susie was an indulgence he couldn’t afford.
Chapter Sixteen
Resting her chin in the palm of her hand, Lily dragged her fingers over her face, stretching down her lower eyelids as she read a review paper outlining the developmental stages of octopods. She sipped her coffee, trying to clear her blurry vision and fuzzy mind. She needed to call Niall and quit her job. She didn’t have time for it anymore, not with her mother’s illness and trying to do her Ph.D.
If she could just get her mom stable, she’d be able to concentrate on her studies and achieve more than even Saint Chrissie had been able to do. A car pulled up outside and Lily craned her neck to see who it was.
Nick!
Grinning, she ran out the kitchen door, closing it quietly behind her so as not to wake her mother from her nap. The drugs the doctor prescribed made her tired and woozy. Rocket nearly bowled her off her feet in the rush to say hello.
“Hi there, boy. Long time no see.” Lily laughed and hunkered down for a stroke while avoiding a good licking. “No tongues. I know where it’s been!”
She stood and reached to give Nick a hug, but he pulled away.
“What is it? What’s the matter?” The stern set of his features told her he was angry. Despite what Susie had told her on the beach yesterday, Lily knew there was something going on between the two of them. She’d spotted his car there when she’d gone jogging that morning.
Had they already broken up?
“Let’s take a walk.” He inclined his head toward the path in the marram grass along which he’d rescued her mother just a couple of nights ago.
“Okay.” It wasn’t too cold so she didn’t bother with a coat and Nick was wearing a leather jacket she could always steal. She picked up a slimy tennis
ball Rocket had brought along for his own entertainment and slugged it over the dune. Rocket took off, the grass whipping behind him like the swish of scissor blades.
They followed the dog to the beach where the surf played tag with the gulls. She’d dyed her hair last night, blond with pink streaks, and even though it was just her and her mother in the house she wore full battle makeup.
Nick stopped on the soft sand, his countenance severe and unfriendly. “Why did you lie to me?”
What was he talking about? “I never lied.” She frowned. Despite the blood connection, she’d always preferred Nick to Chrissie and this was the first time he’d been anything but friendly. She didn’t like it.
“Rafael Domenici.” Nick’s eyes were the same green as the sea glass she’d picked up the other day on the beach, but right now they held less warmth.
“Oh. That.”
“You lied to me during a murder investigation. I could charge you with obstruction of justice.”
“Oh, come on.” Lily couldn’t believe his tone. He was her rock, her anchor, her ray of hope in a world dominated by a ghost. “Rafael didn’t kill Tracy. You’ve got your murderer, why are you making such a big deal out of this?”
Was it a coincidence he hooked up with Susie after years of not getting involved with anyone, and then treated Lily like crap? Resentment rose inside her against a boss she’d wanted to worship. “Is this because of Dr. Cooper? Did she say something about me?”
Nick cut her off with an impatient exclamation. “This has nothing to do with Susie. Shit, Lily, if you don’t think lying to the principal investigator in a murder inquiry is bad enough—” his lips stretched taut, “—what about lying to me?”
“I don’t know why you’re getting all pissy with me. It wasn’t that big a deal.”
His fists clenched at his sides. “Since when did you get so good at reading men? Since when do you instinctively know some guy isn’t a killer?”
She didn’t know if it was the sarcasm or the derision that hurt the most. Humiliation crawled up her spine and made her feel very, very small. How dare he? Nick, more than anyone, should understand she wasn’t some stupid little twit. “He’s a Romeo, not a killer. Come on. I know him, I work with the guy.”
“You know him, aye? Well, did you know he was charged with rape back in Brazil?”
Tension bit into her stomach. “Bullshit.”
“He had sex with a fourteen-year-old girl who cried foul and reported it to the police.”
“Did he force her?”
Nick shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
Relief hit her solar plexus. “Well then—”
“She was fourteen, for God’s sake!” Nick retrieved the ball Rocket had dropped at his feet and sent it flying into the air.
Lily jerked a shoulder. “Plenty of girls I know had sex at fourteen.”
“Did you?” Nick’s eyes narrowed as he asked the question and she knew he’d switched from cop to brother-in-law.
“No.” She put her hands on her hips and shot him a glare. “But I could have. Girls use sex to control boys at that age. Boys are just too stupid to know it.”
The disappointment in his eyes hurt more than she could have ever imagined.
“And you think boys are stupid.” This time he kicked the ball for Rocket and she watched it run for miles across the hard-packed sand, the dog in flat-out pursuit. She wished she could run away too.
“What happened to you, Lily? I trusted you.” Nick’s voice dropped away and shame rolled in her stomach like nausea. “What happened to the little girl I used to carry around on my shoulders?”
She wiped at the eyeliner she knew would be running down her face.
“And why do you wear all that crap on your face?” His expression screamed freak and suddenly she couldn’t catch her breath. He put his hands on her shoulders and she tried to jerk away, but he was stronger than she was. “Why, Lily? Why do you hide behind all that shit?”
He turned her to face him, but she refused to look up. He knew why she wore so much makeup. He was the only one who understood exactly why she wore any makeup at all. She wanted to kick him in the balls, but Nick wouldn’t take that from anyone and though he might love her, he might also leave, and that thought made the air in her chest freeze with fright.
Everyone left. Chrissie, her dad, and now her mother. She didn’t want to be alone. Lily scrubbed her cheek against her shoulder to wipe the tears away. They were both breathing hard. She stared at Nick’s shirt buttons, not wanting to see the expression on his face.
Please don’t leave…
All her mother cared about was Chrissie. Her sister hadn’t been perfect, but Lily had loved her too, and now she wanted to forget she’d ever existed—except whenever she looked in the mirror all she saw was her sister’s reflection.
“Do you think I like looking like her? You think I enjoy seeing the pain in Mom’s eyes when she calls me the wrong name or the disappointment when she realizes her mistake?” Lily gripped his jacket with both hands and shook. “You’re just as bad as she is. You always blamed yourself for Chrissie’s death, but you never blamed her! She was screwing somebody else, for Christ’s sake.” Her knees buckled as she tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let go. She collapsed against him and he wrapped his arms tight around her.
“I’m sorry.” Nick stroked her hair the way her mom used to. “Don’t cry. It’s all right, Lily.”
He jammed her against his chest to comfort her and suddenly her anger evaporated and the great gaping hole of truth stared back. It wasn’t all right. It would never be all right, but maybe she knew a way to make him stay. She lunged for his lips, crushing his mouth to hers and had her tongue down his throat for one second before he thrust her away.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Nick stalked away in a tight circle. He wiped his sleeve across his mouth and looked as if he wanted to spit. “What the hell was that?” His green eyes were furious and blazing.
What have I done?
Tears flooded her eyes and she spun away, running through the dunes. He didn’t follow and she knew that, to him at least, she was nothing like her sister.
Nick was late for the meeting he’d set up. He gave the guy from the Crown Office a shit-eating grin and followed him into the interview room. Judy sat talking to her lawyer, the wariness in her eyes exposed by the harsh assault of fluorescent lights. Nick sat, started the recorder and reeled off the time, date, people present and purpose of interview.
Lily had kissed him and it tasted like incest.
He wiped his mouth again and pushed her out of his mind. Then he noticed how hard Judy was staring at him. How hard she was concentrating. He paused mid-word and stared back.
Killers usually relaxed after they confessed, opened up as if they were in therapy. They either regretted what they’d done and wanted absolution, or they got a thrill out of reliving the moment and shocking their audience. Nick had outgrown shock years ago, except for Lily friggin’ kissing him.
He took a sip of coffee to try and blot it out.
“I need you to talk me through the murders, Judy. Everything you did on those days, starting with last Saturday.”
Her fingers played with the swollen arthritic knuckles which trapped her wedding band on her finger.
“I told you I killed her. Them. Why do we need to go through all this again?” Her eyes were weak on contact, her voice big on determination.
Nick leaned forward, fighting his growing sense of unease. “How did you get into St. Andrews last Saturday night?”
She flicked him a glance, frowned at him as though he was an idiot. “I drove my car.”
“The Peugeot?”
She nodded and he looked at the report in his hand. His toe still throbbed, but it helped him concentrate on the here and now. “Okay. There are a few things I don’t understand. One of them is why we didn’t find any of Tracy’s blood in your vehicle.”
Watching her face
he noted the way her eyes swung toward her lawyer and back again to him.
“I washed off in the sea after I killed her.” She took a quick breath and released it. “I couldn’t stand feeling the blood on my face and clothes so I ran in and washed it all off.”
It sounded like the ideal way to thwart a police investigation.
“Must have been cold?” he queried. But Judy was a diver, like him, Jake, and Chrissie had been. Like Susie. Cold water wouldn’t bother her that much.
Judy shrugged. A muscle ticked on her face, tugging her right eye in a garish wink.
“What happened when you first got to the Gatty? Did you go into the building?”
She sipped her water, looked straight through him to the wall behind his head. The guy from the CO fidgeted in his chair.
“I hid behind the Dumpster and waited for Tracy to come out of the building. Jake had been working that day, when he got home I could smell her on him.” Her nostrils flared, but her tone was crisp. “I left him drinking in his study, knew he’d fall asleep.” Her fingers moved in a weird knitting motion. “She always worked late. God, I wish I hadn’t given up smoking.”
Smoking would be the least of her worries in jail. “So you hid behind the skip and then what?” Nick pressed.
“She came out and walked past me.”
“Did she cut through to the gate or walk all the way around the car park?”
“I—I don’t remember,” she stuttered.
How could you not remember? Unease slipped through him and his gut clenched. “What happened next?”
Judy looked relieved to have gotten off so easy, but Nick wasn’t done with the details.
“I crouched down when I saw her coming. She passed within a foot of me, but it was dark.”
Nick kept his face impassive, but foreboding grew with each word Judy uttered. No mention of the haar that had enveloped the beach that night, providing ample cover.
“I remember now. She went through the gate. I sneaked behind her and hit her over the head, and then she turned toward me and I hit her again.”
Sea of Suspicion Page 19