With that taunt dangling before them, Molly and Liza were left holding a dead line. Molly walked back into the living room, where Liza was looking very pleased with herself.
“I told you she didn’t do it,” she said smugly.
“Either that or she’s one hell of an actress,” Molly countered. “Has it occurred to you whose hide is going to be hung out to dry if Patrice MacDonald vanishes without a trace?”
Liza looked slightly taken aback. “Molly, you heard her. She’s coming back to defend herself.”
“So she says. As Michael likes to point out to me with regularity, someone who’s just engaged in murder is hardly likely to be above a little lying.” It felt a little odd to suddenly find herself in the role of devil’s advocate, Molly decided. Perhaps she ought to leave that, along with all the snide remarks, to Michael.
“Never mind,” she said, noting Liza’s distraught expression. “I agree with you. I think she’ll be here by the end of the day if she has to charter a jet.”
“Let us pray,” Liza murmured fervently. “Otherwise, I’d just as soon not be around when Michael and Detective Abrams find out she’s skipped again. I may be the next one to head for far-off places.”
“There are other suspects,” Molly pointed out. “If we turn our attention to them and hand over the killer’s name, they won’t have anything to complain about.”
“Good thinking,” Liza said, reaching for the legal pad on which she’d been writing coalition press releases while Molly was gone. “Let’s get to work.”
Molly groaned. “I didn’t mean right now. It’s the middle of the night and—unlike you—I have a job to get to first thing in the morning.”
“It’s almost morning now,” Liza pointed out. “If you go to sleep for a couple of hours, you’ll only feel worse. You might as well stay up.”
“All night?” Molly said plaintively.
“Oh, don’t be such a wimp. We have a murderer to catch. Who’s at the top of the list?”
“Clark Dupree,” Molly said resignedly. “Don’t forget someone has to look into that Cayman bank account Patrice mentioned.”
Liza wrote it down. “And I might as well put down Roger, Patrice, and myself since I know the police haven’t given up on us yet.”
“Don’t forget Hernando Viera. He’d been having an affair with Tessa, too. And I guess we can’t leave off Jason Jeffries, though I’m certain he didn’t do it.”
Those notations made, Liza regarded her speculatively. “Who else?”
“It could have been anyone at the party.”
“True, but realistically it must have been someone who knew Tessa well, unless some thief whacked her over the head just to take her jewels.”
“Couldn’t have been,” Molly said. “She was still wearing that diamond ring that is worth a mint.”
“So we’re back to friends and acquaintances. How about the Willoughbys? And who’s that other couple they’re with all the time? He’s a banker, too.”
Molly recalled talking to them after the murder, though she hadn’t known them before. “Newton?”
“No, Newcombe,” Liza said.
“Right. Harley and Jane. He disliked everyone there,” Molly recalled. “I’m not sure he disliked Tessa any more or less than anyone else.”
“Maybe he plans to take them all out one by one.”
“Liza!”
“Sorry. I’m getting punchy.”
“What about Helen Whorton? She and Tessa had apparently been feuding for years. What’s that rivalry all about?”
“I doubt they even recalled themselves. Tessa probably snatched all the glory after some event that Helen slaved over. In this crowd, that would certainly do it.”
“Anyone else?”
Liza shook her head. “Not that I can think of. I’ll go over the entire guest list later to see if anything rings a bell. Meantime, shouldn’t we divide up these prospects and try to see what we can find out?”
“You know them,” Molly reminded her. “I don’t. Won’t they think it downright peculiar if I come snooping around?”
“When was the last time that stopped you?”
“Okay, let’s put it this way. If the opportunity presents itself, I will ask some questions.”
Liza grinned in satisfaction. “Molly, dearest, haven’t you learned that in life we make our own opportunities?”
Before Molly could respond to that barb, the phone rang. She glanced outside and saw that the sun was already sneaking over the horizon. “Michael, no doubt,” she muttered as the phone continued to ring. “What on earth am I supposed to tell him?”
“The truth,” Liza suggested.
Molly scowled at her as she grabbed the phone. “Good morning,” she said with forced cheer.
“What happened?” Michael asked without preamble.
“I spoke with Hal last night,” Molly said, hoping to divert him. “Thanks for the advice. I think it helped.”
“I’m glad, but that’s not what I’m talking about and you know it. Since Liza is not at home, I assume she is with you. I also deduce that you were together when she called Patrice MacDonald and have been plotting and scheming ever since.”
“Why don’t you come over and join us for breakfast?”
“Because I have exactly five minutes before I have to go and testify in a murder case. I would like to go with my mind at rest on other matters. Do you catch my drift here?”
“I do,” Molly conceded. “We talked to her.”
“And?”
“She’s coming home today.”
“Was that a decision she made before or after your call?” he inquired suspiciously.
“What does it matter? The point is she’s coming home.”
“You told her everything, didn’t you?” he said, his tone somewhere between resigned and furious.
“I did not,” Molly said flatly.
“Okay, Liza did. Don’t play games. How much does Mrs. MacDonald know about the current focus of this investigation?”
“Everything,” Molly admitted reluctantly, then hurriedly added, “She says Clark Dupree did it.”
He groaned. “Terrific. Does she have proof or do we have another amateur detective on our hands?”
“You don’t have to be so cranky.”
“Yes. I do,” he said succinctly. “You two better spend today praying that our prime suspect shows her face.”
“I would like to point out that you’re the one who said we could call her,” Molly retorted.
“I trusted you to use some discretion.”
“We did the best we could.”
“I’m sure,” he muttered along with a few phrases of Spanish, which Molly felt sure were better left untranslated.
“He’s furious,” Liza guessed when Molly had hung up.
“I’d say that’s an understatement. In fact, if you and I know what’s good for us, we’ll have this case solved before the end of the day or we’ll be behind bars ourselves.”
Liza looked startled. “He’s that mad?”
“Mad enough to charge us with obstruction of justice, I’d say.”
Liza ripped the yellow legal paper across the middle and handed half to Molly. “Then let’s get busy.”
“Has it occurred to you that if we start running around questioning suspects, it will only add fuel to the fire?”
Liza shrugged. “Not if we catch the killer. That ought to take the wind right out of his sails.”
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Since none of Molly’s admittedly halfhearted protests had swayed Liza’s newfound determination, it was fortunate that her boss at the film office chose to spend the day on the golf course again—doing business, according to him. Whatever, it left Molly free to indulge her best sleuthing techniques. Jeannette, however, scowled disapprovingly every time she started to make a phone call related to the case. Molly finally sent her to the location of a commercial shoot just so she wouldn’t have to operate under he
r coworker’s worried scrutiny.
Unfortunately, none of the calls she made turned up one single piece of evidence, much less a solid hint on motive. Hell, they didn’t even turn up any of the suspects. Not even Ted Ryan, whom she’d planned to pump for information, was in his office. She decided against trying to track the reporter down at police headquarters, where Detective Abrams might get wind of her nosing around. He might take it well, but it wasn’t his reaction she was worried about. Michael would blow sky-high.
Thoroughly frustrated, she opted finally for going to lunch. She would spend the hour trying to clear her head and consuming enough caffeine to keep her awake through the rest of the day. Tonight, if she had any energy left at all, she would kill Liza for getting her into this sorry state of exhaustion.
The players continued to taunt her as she drove from the Vizcaya gatehouse that contained the film office into the Grove. With Roger and Liza both more or less accounted for at the approximate time of Tessa’s murder and Patrice MacDonald swearing she was innocent, Molly couldn’t get Hernando Viera’s affair with Tessa out of her mind. It had all the elements needed for a crime of passion.
What if Hernando had discovered that his mistress was already casting her eye about for another conquest? If Jason Jeffries was to be believed, the chase was far more important to Tessa than any lasting relationship, marital or illicit. That would explain her alleged affair with Clark Dupree.
Or, what if Caroline Viera knew all about her husband’s fling and had tired of it? She might have challenged Tessa that night, argued heatedly with her, then cracked her over the skull with that silver candlestick. And then dragged her body all the way to the bay? Molly thought. Not likely. Still, she couldn’t rule out anything.
By now the police must have retrieved the weapon from Neville’s office. If Patrice hadn’t taken it there, could Caroline Viera have been cool and composed enough to sneak it back into the caterer’s domain? From what Molly had seen of her, yes. But her guesswork was no substitute for having a cozy little chat with the woman, who just happened to be sitting down for lunch—alone—across the crowded outdoor terrace of Tu Tu Tango, one of Cocowalk’s liveliest restaurants in the heart of the Grove.
Molly squeezed between tables and gave Caroline one of her friendliest smiles. “How are you? Do you mind if I join you?”
Molly thought she caught a tiny flicker of fear in Caroline’s eyes before she gestured resignedly.
“Of course not. I hate eating alone.”
“So do I, especially in a place like this. Everyone always seems paired off. Do you come here often?”
“Whenever I have an appointment in this part of town. Several of my accounts are in Coconut Grove.”
Caroline pushed her unopened menu aside as if to confirm that she knew every one of its appetizer-portion items by heart. Molly trumped the move with her own menu and a wave to get the attention of the waiter.
When their orders had been placed, Caroline surprised Molly by asking, “Have you heard anything about Tessa’s murder?”
“Only that the list of suspects is no shorter than it was on the night it happened. What about you? Surely with Hernando’s connections, he must have heard rumors.” If the phrase Hernando’s connections carried a double meaning for Caroline, she managed to hide her reaction. The woman was definitely a master of the polite mask.
“He hasn’t mentioned anything to me,” she said. “Of course, sometimes we’re like two ships that pass in the night. We both have incredible business and social demands. Often we don’t get home until midnight and Hernando is always out of the house at the crack of dawn.”
Caroline’s classic, angular face showed signs of the same weariness and resignation evident in her voice. Of course, guilt could be taxing, Molly thought just as Caroline added, “I don’t know how Hernando does it.”
“But I’m sure his dedication is one of the things that attracted you,” Molly ventured, noting that Caroline seemed to diminish her own not inconsequential accomplishments and hectic schedule when comparing them to her husband’s.
“That and the fact that he was terrific in bed,” Caroline said with astonishing bluntness. It was the kind of remark deliberately meant to catch the listener off guard.
Dutifully startled, Molly met her gaze and saw that her lovely aquamarine eyes were filled with amusement.
“You’re really no good at this,” Caroline said. “If you want to know whether I know about Hernando’s affair with Tessa, why don’t you just ask me?”
Molly tried to hide her chagrin. “Obviously you do know,” she said, then matched bluntness with candor. “Did you before the night of the murder?”
Caroline laughed, a full-bodied sound, rather than the nervous titter of someone guilty of a crime. “So you can be direct. Good. Perhaps we can be friends after all. Yes, I knew all about the affair before that night. I also knew about the dozen or more before Tessa and the half dozen waiting in the wings. I knew when I married Hernando fifteen years ago that he was no saint and that I wasn’t going to be the one to change him. Our marriage, however, has its compensations.”
“Which are?”
“I thought I’d mentioned the primary one.”
“The sex. I suppose it comes from all that practice,” Molly said before she could stop herself.
“Indeed,” Caroline agreed dryly. “Though these days I must admit I worry far more about the consequences of that than I did before.”
“AIDS,” Molly surmised.
“Yes.”
“Still, I guess I can rule out your flying into a jealous rage that night and killing Tessa.”
“Why on earth would I? Hernando had dismissed her and moved on. Frankly, if your friend Liza weren’t so quick on her feet, I suspect she’d be next in line. She’s gorgeous and intelligent. I believe Hernando describes her as a real hellion, something he definitely admires in a woman.”
Molly decided it wasn’t up to her to defend Liza’s moral standards. She regarded Caroline with a certain amount of admiration. “Why am I beginning to suspect that a hellion is exactly what he got with you?”
Caroline nodded with evident satisfaction. “I may have to change my assessment, Molly. You might be quite good at this after all.”
She glanced at the delicate, expensive gold watch on her wrist. The gesture also showed off an impressive diamond adorning a wide gold band on her ring finger. Either Caroline’s business was extremely successful or Hernando paid for his transgressions with jewelry.
“My goodness, look at the time,” she said. “I have to run.” She took a twenty out of her purse and put it on the table. “Lunch is on me this time. Let’s do it again soon.”
She picked up her Gucci briefcase and hurried off before Molly could protest her paying the bill or even say good-bye.
When she’d gone, Molly drew out the list she and Liza had compiled and scratched Caroline Viera’s name off. Just as she did, a hand reached over her shoulder and plucked the paper off the table.
“What have we here?” Michael inquired, slipping into the chair just vacated by Caroline Viera. He’d dressed formally for his day in court. The dark pin-striped suit and pristine white shirt spoke more of Wall Street than it did Metro-Dade police headquarters. He looked drop-dead gorgeous, just as he had on the day they’d met.
Molly ignored the traitorous quickening of her pulse and regarded him warily. “What are you doing here?”
“Just hunting down suspects. How about you?”
“Am I a suspect now?”
“Nope, but who says I came here looking for you?”
Chagrined, Molly stared at him silently. He winked.
“Actually, I was told I’d find Caroline Viera here, but she was just taking off as I got to the front door. Then I caught a glimpse of you out here and figured you’d done all the advance work for me.” “Oh?”
He glanced at the menu, ordered the pizza with sun-dried tomatoes, then regarded Molly with evident curiosity. “Is
she guilty?”
“I don’t appreciate your making fun of me,” she said stiffly. “I’m trying to help.”
He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I know that. And, actually, my question was a serious one. What’s your take on Mrs. Viera?”
“Not guilty,” she said succinctly and with complete conviction.
“No reasonable doubt?”
Molly’s defensiveness fell away under his prodding. “I thought that applied to guilt, but no. I’m absolutely convinced she had no motive.”
“Not even her husband’s affair with Tessa.”
“That’s nothing out of the ordinary to hear her tell it.”
“She doesn’t object to his affairs?”
“Apparently not.”
Michael looked doubtful. “Do you buy that understanding-woman crap?”
“Surprisingly enough, in this case, yes. And if she had finally gotten fed up, wouldn’t she have killed Hernando rather than Tessa?”
“You have a point there. So who’s next on this list of yours?” he asked.
“Hernando.”
“What about Clark Dupree? I thought he was Mrs. MacDonald’s first choice.”
“He’s on Liza’s list.”
“Lord help me, now I’ve got two of you to keep tabs on?” he said with a moan. “Couldn’t you work in tandem, so I can keep track of you?”
“We figured we didn’t have much time. If the killer’s not in custody by the end of the day, we had a hunch you’d drag us in for obstructing justice.”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” he admitted. “But I decided to leave that in the hands of the cop officially in charge of this case. Lucky for you, so far he hasn’t heard about what the two of you did when you alerted Patrice MacDonald to the police interest in her whereabouts.”
Molly breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Just pray his suspect turns up.”
“Or that we come up with a better one,” Molly countered.
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