“But your perp has to be able to handle a crossbow. That’s kind of odd, isn’t it? Someone who would have the skill to use the bow but not own one?”
“True.” Honey brought the ball back to Peter. This time he picked it up, tossed it, then pulled a white handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his hand off.
When the dogs returned, Lia opened the door and the pack made a mad scramble up the steps and into the kitchen. She found them milling by the counter where she kept dog biscuits in a cookie jar.
“Sit,” Lia commanded. Three butts plopped on the floor. Lia gave Max a stern look. Max turned her face away and slowly, as if obedience would kill her, lowered her hindquarters until they barely touched the ground. Lia reached into the jar and handed each dog a treat.
“That dog is just contrary,” Peter said. “Do you always give them a treat each time you leave?”
“Every time. It lets them know I’m leaving. I like to think it eases any separation anxiety, but I don't know if that’s true or not.”
They climbed into Peter’s Blazer. Peter turned on the ignition and put the car in gear. “What do you think of my truck?”
“What do you mean?”
“Would you rather be riding in something stylish, like Brent’s A4?”
Lia laughed. “I asked my mechanic about Brent’s A4 when I took the Black Beauty in for her oil change last week. He says they’re over-engineered, expensive to fix and demand frequent dates with their mechanics.
“Stan said, given the choice between my twenty year old 240 and a brand new A4, he’d take the 240. I bet Brent will begin to rethink his love affair with Celeste before he’s had her six months. Seriously, don’t you have better things to do with your money?”
“Well, uh . . .”
“You think I’m going to run off with the first guy who drives up in an expensive car?” she teased.
“I was just wondering.” He shrugged.
“Yeah, it gets me all hot and bothered, sitting down at Stan’s and drooling over those expensive, busted cars he works on. I’m just dying to hook up with a guy who has enough money to burn on one.” She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, don’t you know me better than that?”
“Uh umm . . .”
“Stan, I might run off with, if it wasn’t for that wife of his.”
“Excuse me?”
“Except I have you and I don’t need anyone else. You gonna quit asking me stupid questions, Kentucky Boy?”
“That wasn’t why I was asking.”
“No? Why were you asking?”
“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of this. Last night you said marriage is about money and wanting the same things, and there’s a lot of truth to that. My former fiance dumped me because she figured out my income bracket would never be up to her standards.”
“Leaving aside She-who-will-not-be-named, a car’s a car. It gets you where you want to go. I’m practical about things that involve money. Right now I have to be, but that wouldn’t change if I had more of it, and I don’t think it’s your responsibility to provide an endless supply of it. Did I pass?” She batted her lashes.
“How was your day, Darling?”
“Do I detect evasive action?”
“You do.”
“It was fine. Renee oohed and aahed over the pictures I showed her. She picked the one I like best, with Dakini’s fur flying and her eyes all wide while her tongue is hanging out. It’s a bit goofy. Renee wants a big canvas so it will reign over her den like portraits of Chairman Mao in China, back in the sixties.”
“Did Renee put it that way? About Chairman Mao?”
“She did. You know I wasn’t alive back then.”
“How big is this going to be?”
“I’ve got to go back to measure her fireplace to be sure, but I’m thinking three by four feet, maybe four and a half.”
~
Lia and Peter sat in a quiet corner of Emanu Ethiopian Restaurant. Lia tore a bit of injera off the layers of spongy flatbread lining their platter and used it to scoop up a bit of stewed vegetables.
“So what’s next with the case?” she asked, popping the morsel into her mouth.
Peter chewed thoughtfully. “We’re going to give Stryker a good hard look, make sure the alibi holds up. Find out where he did his hunting in the woods, who knew about his bow, ask the neighbors if they’d seen anyone strange around the neighborhood. If you could call that a neighborhood. We’re not looking forward to going back.”
“Was it that bad?”
“It’s like another country up there, isolated from the rest of the city like it is. We’re also going to continue checking in with hunters to find out who’s been where in the forest, and what they’ve seen. It’s tedious, but it’s our best shot at finding a witness. There’s a good chance they don’t realize what they saw.”
“What about other suspects? Wouldn’t the wife have a motive?”
“She was at work.”
“She could have gotten someone else to do it, don’t you think? A hit man or a boyfriend? Couldn’t she have gotten wind of his plans to divorce her? Maybe she didn’t want to split the assets. Maybe she felt angry and humiliated.”
“I don’t think she’s hired anyone. We went over the family financials a couple days ago. No signs of a large amount of money being moved. Only a really stupid hit man would do the job without getting an advance.”
“Or maybe a really smart one who knew that’s the first place you would look. Maybe someone has some reason to believe they could count on getting paid.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, I’m just tossing it out there. Maybe she handed over collateral.”
“What kind of collateral could she give him?”
“You’re missing a car, aren’t you?”
Peter nodded thoughtfully. “It could work. He gets the car as the first part of his payoff, sells it to a chop shop or otherwise disposes of it.”
“What about a boyfriend? If he was cheating, she could be cheating, too.”
Peter tried to imagine Monica with her freckles and her Martha Stewart home ushering the meter reader in the back door while wearing a neon red negligee trimmed with dyed marabou feathers. It didn’t play. “We talked to her neighbors, also her co-workers. We couldn’t find anyone she was especially close to. No sign of a boyfriend, not that anyone knows about. According to them, it goes against type.”
“Doesn’t mean there isn’t one.”
~
Peter opened the passenger door of his Blazer for Lia.
“You don’t have to keep doing that,” Lia said. “My fingers work perfectly fine.”
“I do if I want to sneak a peek at your ass without you noticing.”
“Men.” She climbed into the truck, turned, and caught his line of sight. Peter shrugged, whistling as he walked around the SUV to take the driver’s seat.
“You never mentioned if you saw Kate Onstad today,” Peter said as he pulled out onto Montgomery Road.
“She had breakfast with us. She was so nice. I was afraid she’d hate me for turning her in, but she was grateful I hooked her up with Renee.”
“Huh.” Peter turned south on Ridge Road.
Lia turned to look at him in the darkness. “She told us this story, about how she hooked up with George the first time, back in high school.”
“Oh?”
“It was very romantic. She gave him her virginity out in the woods.”
“Really?” Peter gave her a speculative look.
“You ever make love outside like that?” she asked.
“A gentleman never tells. Would you like to?” He took his eyes off the road to gauge her reaction.
She bit her lip, hesitant. “Well . . . it’s, I don’t know . . . it’s an interesting thought.”
He whipped the SUV into the nearest parking lot and turned around, heading north on Ridge Road.
“Where are we going?”
“French Park. You keep thi
nking about losing your virginity in the woods while I drive.”
“It’s chilly out.”
He patted her thigh as the car inched over the speed limit. “I’ll warm you up. I promise. Who are we? Captain of the football team and hot head cheerleader? Hoodlum and honor student?”
“That’s what they were. He was a hoodlum, she was studious. Maybe we could go in a different direction. Tramp and virginal jock who is also an altar boy.”
“Depends. Do you want to be swept away or powerful and in control?” He entered the park, drove up the hill, parked in the lot beside the now vacant caretaker’s cottage.
“Here? In a parking lot?”
“Oh, ye of little faith, where is your trust?”
“I want high school petting rules. No hickeys on the neck, and you’re going to have to make me desperate for you before you get to peel any of my clothes off,” she bargained.
“Why do I have to do all the work?”
“You’re the gas and I’m the brakes. Woody Harrelson said so in a movie.”
He grabbed a blanket out of the back and opened Lia’s door for her. She slid out, into his arms as he leaned over to kiss her.
She placed an index finger against his lips. “Not so fast, Kentucky Boy. What’s with the handy blanket?”
He ducked her finger, nipped her neck. “Emergency first aid. Shock victims, that sort of thing. But you can look for semen stains if you like.” Nibbled some more. “What’s your name tonight? Vanessa? Kelly? Maybe a sweet, wholesome Sue? Did I get you drunk first?”
She stared over his shoulder, at the stars, considered. “Your name is Kirk. You’re a star basketball player, and you were about to flunk out of English before the coach hooked you up with me for tutoring. He really needs you for the state championship. My name is . . . Natalie. I’m very protected and inexperienced, and I’m saving myself for marriage. You’ve been sitting really close to me for months and we keep exchanging looks. Oh, and I’m the coach’s daughter. Dad said it was okay for you to take me out for a milkshake since you passed your midterms. He trusts you.”
She stepped out of Peter’s embrace and turned wide eyes on him. “Kirk, I thought we were just getting a milk shake. What are we doing here?”
“I just thought we’d go for a walk.” He shrugged, faking indifference. “It’s a pretty night out. You don’t have to be back yet, do you?” He dabbed the corner of her mouth with his finger, grinned. “You had a bit of chocolate there.”
“I guess it’s okay, but I’m a little chilly.”
“Here,” he said as he took off his jacket, slung it around her shoulders. “Warm enough?”
“Oh, Kirk, your letter jacket. This is almost like being your girlfriend.”
“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”
“I-I thought you were going steady with Sally.”
“Nah, we just went out a couple times. It’s not anything.”
“She’s so much prettier than I am.”
He took her chin in his hand, tilted her face up. “It’s all makeup and big tits. You’re prettier than her any day.”
“You mean it?”
He bent over and pressed his lips against hers. She kept her lips closed, like a proper virgin. He kissed his way over to her ear, sucked on the lobe. A thrill shot through her. “Open your mouth for me,” he whispered against her skin.
Lia parted her lips and Peter covered them with his own, slipping his tongue inside her mouth. She jolted. “What are you doing?”
“Sweet Natalie, haven’t you ever been French kissed?” His warm breath feathered her cheek. He slid a chilled hand under the hem of her blouse, startling her as it met the warm skin at her waist. “You want to be my girlfriend, don’t you?”
“I . . . I don’t know.” She edged away, dislodging his hand. “Someone could come along and see us. Dad would kill me.”
He winked at her, nodded toward a copse of evergreens with heavy boughs sweeping the ground. “Let’s go in there. I bet it’s totally private.”
She said nothing as he led her toward the circle of trees, then ducked between the branches, disappearing in the shadows. She felt her way along, following the pull of his hand. “Kirk, I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.”
“It’s okay. Let’s sit down.” He tugged. She sat on the blanket with a thump, bumped into him.
“Oops, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?” She felt around, trying to get her bearings in the dark. Her hand collided with his chest. She snatched it back.
“Nah, I’m fine. Let me put my arm around you. . . . There, are you warm enough?” His hand brushed the outside of her thigh in a time-honored, faux-casual encroachment that sent shivers through her.
“Uh-huh. Kirk?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you kiss me again?” she asked, shyly. “I can’t do anything else, but I-I like kissing you.”
Day 7
Tuesday, October 15
“Are you ever going to let her off that leash?” Bailey asked.
Lia eyed Max from her perch on the picnic table. Max was giving Lia dirty looks from the other end of the twenty foot training lead. “Nope.”
“Aw, she wants to be free, don’t you, Max?” Jim said. “See, she wants to run around with the other dogs. Look at how much fun Honey and Viola are having.”
Honey and Viola, Lia observed, were laying in the grass, doing nothing. Just like Fleece and Chester. “She doesn’t give a damn about the other dogs. She wants to be on the other side of that fence.”
“You don’t know that,” Jim said.
“I do know it, just like I know that the minute she’s over the fence, you’re going to remember that you’re late for an appointment to get your colon irrigated.”
“Poor Max,” Jim said. “Nobody loves you.” Max wandered up to Jim and gave him a sorrowful look. He scratched behind her ears.
“I wish I could let her off lead. As it is, I have to take an extra walk every day to give her some exercise.”
“How did it go at Renee’s yesterday?” Bailey asked. “Did she like your photos?”
“You know Renee. She’s so easy to work with. I wish I could clone her. She invited George’s mystery woman to have breakfast with us.”
“Really?”
“Poor woman.” Lia paused to consider her ethics, then decided she could share some of Kitty’s confidences. “She came all the way up here to be with the guy she crushed on in high school, only to have him murdered and her a suspect.”
“I’m sorry he died, but I don’t condone adultery,” Jim said.
“I don’t think she’s responsible for the issues George was having with Monica,” Lia said. “I think meeting her again gave him the courage to face the problems that were already there. She said he was talking about getting a divorce.”
“Leaving someone is not facing your problems,” Jim said.
“It sounds like he was being a swinging monkey to me,” Bailey said.
“What’s that?” Lia asked.
“That’s a guy who won’t let go of the woman he’s got until he has the next one lined up, like Tarzan swinging from vine to vine in the movies.”
“Women do it, too,” Jim said. “It’s no better when they do it. Are you sure you should be friendly with that woman? She did have a crossbow in her trunk.”
“You sound like Peter. I don’t believe she did anything. You should have heard her yesterday. She needs all the friends she can get. She’s over a thousand miles from home, stuck here while they sort things out. I’m glad Renee is helping her.”
~ ~ ~
“Here, hold this.” Lia nodded to the end of the inch-wide tape measure, which she pinned to the edge of the stone fireplace with one hand. Renee took over and Lia walked the tape out to the other side of the masonry column. Dakini lay on the floor, sphinx-like, supervising this operation.
Lia eyed the markings. “Eight feet, give or take a half inch to allow for irregularities in the stones.” She walked the
tape back and took the end from Renee. “How high is the ceiling?”
“Fifteen feet, at this end.”
Lia measured from the top of the mantel to the floor. “Five and a half. That gives us nine and a half feet by eight feet to play with. We’ll want a roomy margin of stone all the way around, at least two feet.”
“I want her to look like she’s jumping over the heads of everyone in the room,” Renee said. “The grandkids will love it and it’ll make Harry’s business associates nervous, just the way he likes them. You can make it look like she’s going to pop right off the canvas can’t you?”
“I’ll do my best,” Lia promised.
“I’m sure it will be wonderful. I trust your judgement. Now have a seat and let’s discuss other topics.”
“Don’t you mean gossip?”
“Well, if you want to get all technical about it.”
Lia sat on one end of the leather sofa. Renee poured coffee from the thermal carafe Esmerelda had brought in earlier. Lia accepted the cup, added half-and-half. Renee sat down by her. Dakini jumped up on the sofa next to her mom.
“Where’s Kitty?” Lia asked. “How’s she holding up?”
“Poor thing. Not so well, I’m afraid. She puts on a brave front, but I think she’s just devastated. Wouldn’t you be? I talked her into letting my massage therapist come and give her a session in the guest apartment. I thought that would be best. I wanted to talk to you in private.”
“Oh?”
“She needs some help, and I think we should give it to her. You know that stick of a wife has to be behind George's murder, even if she didn’t do it herself. Who else would want him dead?”
“She does seem like the obvious choice, but what can we do about it?”
“We need some good intel. I don’t know the woman, so that leaves you.”
“Me? What do you want me to do about it?”
“Just talk to her and be sympathetic. I know you can handle that. You dealt with Catherine, and she could be a real witch.”
Lia leaned back, furrowed her brow. “What exactly do you have in mind, Renee?”
“Oh, nothing onerous, I assure you. The family is grieving, aren’t they?”
Maximum Security (A Dog Park Mystery) Page 11