Suspect Lover

by Stephanie Doyle

  Caroline continued to stare at her.

  “I’ve been to a few book signings,” the agent admitted. Then she reached out her hand to Caroline. “I’m a big fan. You can call me Nora.”

  “Fan?” the detective asked.

  “Ms. Somerville writes novels. Mystery novels.”

  “Mrs. Santos,” Caroline corrected her. “I haven’t had time to change it yet legally, but I’m taking my husband’s name.”

  “That might be a problem.” The detective sat in the chair across from her and Caroline sensed the news wasn’t going to get any better than it had been lately. “Ms. Somerville, how well do you know your husband?”

  Not well. Not well enough to know why he might have left. Why he might be running. Only well enough to know that he wouldn’t have hurt Denny. “How do you mean?”

  “Did you know that your husband has a criminal record? That he spent two years in prison?”

  The blow was sharp and it ripped the air from her lungs. Prison. Dominic. She forced herself to breathe in small pants and prayed she wouldn’t hyperventilate. This couldn’t be happening, not to her. Not to them.

  Prison. Dominic. Criminal.

  It couldn’t be possible. He would have told her something like that. A man didn’t get married and not tell his wife that he’d spent time in prison. She felt betrayed. The same way she felt when her parents had the audacity to get themselves killed in a car accident.

  Caroline turned her face away from the two, knowing they were searching for a reaction. She focused on the glass wall that looked out over the hillside.

  The glass. The space. It all made a twisted sort of sense now.

  I couldn’t have created a character as screwed up as you. Not unless he had reason.

  The words came back to her in a flash. Along with the venom she was feeling at the time. A reason. That’s what she wanted. What she had demanded from him. Now she had one.

  She tried to answer, but her throat closed on her violently. She swallowed and tried again. “No, I didn’t know.”

  “It was seventeen years ago,” the detective elaborated. “I take it he didn’t tell you.”

  “No, he didn’t.” So long ago, it could have been a lifetime, but that it still affected him was obvious. It was here in this house. In the control he exerted over his life, his emotions.

  Dominic. Why didn’t you tell me? “What did he do?”

  “Assault,” he said quickly. “Did he ever get violent with you?”

  She closed her eyes, offended by the question. He’d never been violent. Violent would have meant losing control. Dominic didn’t lose control. “No.”

  “Never lost his temper?” he prodded.

  Caroline stared at the man. “Dominic is the most self-disciplined man I know. I can’t imagine him being out of control.” No, that wasn’t true. He’d been out of control when they made love. But that was desire, not abuse, and all he inflicted on her was pleasure.

  “Well, it seems he beat this guy up pretty good.”

  She flinched at his words.

  “With his fists, though. Not a weapon. Truth is, two years is really the maximum on that sort of thing with no prior convictions. He must not have had a very good lawyer.”

  Caroline needed time to adjust and think. She didn’t want to answer any more questions or hear anything else about Dominic. She needed time to understand what all this meant. But somehow she sensed that the detective wasn’t finished.

  “Another thing. Santos isn’t his real name. After he got out of prison, he created a new identity for himself. You should know that your marriage to him isn’t legal.”

  Funny, of all the things that had happened in the last two days that piece of information hurt her more than the rest combined. She straightened her back and forced herself to listen despite the blows that felt almost physical.

  “I’m sorry to have to tell you this.”

  “I don’t believe you,” she replied. “What do you want?”

  “I need you to know the truth. I need you to know the kind of man you’re protecting, if you are protecting him. I need to find him, Caroline.”

  “I told you yesterday, I don’t know where he is.”

  “Can you take a guess as to where you think he might go?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “The office or this house. That’s it. That was his world as far as I knew.”

  Nora leaned forward a bit, causing Caroline to shift her gaze to her. “How long have you known Dominic?”

  “Not long,” Caroline admitted reluctantly.

  The detective pounced. “But you married him.”

  “It was a hasty marriage. We’ve really only known each other for two months. The first month through e-mail and phone calls.”

  “I would call that a hasty marriage.”

  “I shouldn’t have said hasty,” Caroline corrected herself. “Hasty makes it sound like it was a mistake.”

  The detective shook his head. “You just found out that your husband spent time in jail, that he lied to you about his identity and that he is now the prime suspect in a murder investigation, and you don’t think the marriage was a mistake?”

  Caroline didn’t hesitate. “No, I don’t.”

  He scowled but didn’t respond. The officers searching the house returned with the computer from his downstairs office and nothing else.

  “We’ll be leaving now, but we’ll be in touch.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense,” Caroline said. “Why would he kill Denny? Denny was his business. He made millions on his software programs. Isn’t that a little like killing the goose that laid the golden egg?”

  “Not if he thought he had enough eggs already,” he answered. “We spent the morning with Steven Ford. It turns out that there is a discrepancy in the company’s finances. Two million dollars appears to be missing.”

  Caroline shook her head angrily. “The company is worth ten times that. What does a man who is worth tens of millions of dollars need with two?”

  “Good question. I’ll be in touch.”

  Nora crouched in front of where Caroline sat. “I know this is going to be hard to believe, but if you know where he is you have to tell us. It’s the only way we’re going to figure this out. The only way, if he is innocent.”

  “He is.”

  “Then finding him is crucial to proving that.”

  “Who are you?” Caroline asked her. Her gut was screaming at her that something was off.

  “I’m here at the request of the government. Encrypton was up for a big contract.”

  “No, I mean who are you?” Caroline pressed. “Are you…Do you know him? There was someone in the government. A former employee of his…”

  “Hey, Agent FBI, you coming or not?” the detective called to her.

  Nora took a card out of her purse along with a pen. She scribbled a number on the back of it. “This is my room number at the hotel where I’m staying.” She added the name of the hotel to the card. “Call me. We’ll talk. And Caroline, for what it’s worth, the last thing he did before he left his office was look at your picture.”

  Caroline said nothing, but took the card and watched them leave. Munch followed them to the door and sounded off with a few harsh barks just to let them know she hadn’t appreciated their company. Immediately she returned looking up at her mistress longingly. The question was easy to read in her confused eyes.

  “I don’t where he is,” Caroline sobbed.

  “What was that?” Mark wanted to know.

  “What was what?” she asked as she followed him to his beige nondescript cop car. The siren light on top was the only thing that gave it a little character.

  “You and the missus were getting pretty chummy.”

  “She’s clearly distraught. You could have broken the news to her a little more gently.”

  Mark snorted. “I’m not in the nice business, shortcake. I’m trying to track a killer.”

  “A suspected killer. You keep forge
tting that.”

  “Not you, though,” Mark pointed out. “Don’t tell me you think this guy is innocent?”

  “I was trained not to form conclusions too early in an investigation.”

  “Well la-di-da,” Mark sang. “I was trained to close cases. I’ve got a missing ex-con, who was one of two people who had access to books that were cooked, and a dead body. It seems pretty cut-and-dried to me.”

  “What about the wife’s question? Why would a man already worth millions need to steal two?”

  “I’m not sure about that,” he admitted grudgingly. “It does sound a little weak.”

  “Maybe a little too cut-and-dried,” she suggested.

  “But that doesn’t answer my question. Why are you rooting for the bad guy?”

  She laughed. “I’m not rooting.”

  “You’re rooting. Put a skirt on you and couple of pom-poms in your hands and I would call you his personal cheerleading squad.”

  “I’m just here to observe and report back to Washington.”

  Mark accepted that for the time being. Only because he had to. At some point, though, he was going to have to do a little more digging into the pixie’s story. She was cute, so he was really hoping his gut was off on this. But he didn’t think so.

  “I guess it sort of makes sense that Washington would want this guy to be clean. Otherwise they have to go looking for someone else.”

  They reached the car and he circled it to open the door for her. She looked at the open door, then at him.

  “What? I can’t be a gentleman?”

  “It’s just a little unexpected.”

  He smiled wolfishly. “Learn to expect the unexpected with me, shortcake.”

  Her eyes took on a decided glint. “Stop calling me short.”

  “Yes, sir, Agent FBI.”

  “You know, you could just call me Nora.”

  “I could but that wouldn’t be as much fun.”

  She got into the car and he closed the door behind her. Then he circled around and got behind the wheel.

  “So where to next?” he asked.

  “I would like to see the crime scene if that’s all right.”

  “Still don’t trust me when I tell you that it was deliberate?” Mark asked.

  “I want to see for myself,” Nora said. Then she turned to him and smiled. “And for the record, I don’t think I do trust you. You seem too eager to close this case and wash your hands of it.”

  “I’m crushed.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  He smiled again. “Okay, I’m not. For the record, I’m not so sure I trust you, either.”

  “That hurts not even a little bit.”

  “Wiseass.” He started the car and reversed down the long driveway. The itchy edge overcame him and he felt his foot start to tap uncontrollably. It was hard to know if it was his passenger or…“On the way there though, we need to make a stop.”

  “Why?”

  “I think my patch is wearing off.”

  Chapter 8

  Caroline stood among the mourners and thought what a hypocrite she was. She didn’t know this man. Had met him only once. She didn’t know what his dreams or hopes had been. What used to make him laugh out loud or his favorite type of music. She only knew with every passing minute she had to suppress the urge to fling open the closed casket, haul his body out of it, shake him back to life and force him to admit who had done this to him.

  Because it wasn’t Dominic. It wasn’t.

  The minister Anne had arranged for said some final words. The small crowd, employees mostly and two police officers apparently sent by the detective to watch the proceedings, began to disperse. Caroline felt someone place an arm under her elbow and turned to find Steven trying to lead her away from the scene. She took one last look around, hoping much like she imagined the two officers were, to find Dominic hiding among the trees watching the service from a distance. A limo waited for them on the path that ran through the cemetery. Again, Anne’s doing. They all climbed inside, Anne, her father, Steven and Caroline, as if they were members of Denny’s immediate family.

  Caroline supposed they were.

  Without asking where they were going Caroline leaned her head back on the leather headrest and thought about the next step. Three days and there had been no word from Dominic. The police were still looking for him, of course, but Caroline had no expectation that Dominic would be found holed up in some seedy motel nearby.

  He was too smart for that. Certainly he’d been smart enough to find a way to leave his past behind. He’d been smart enough to build a business. Smart enough to get her to the altar before she could think about what she was doing, thereby fulfilling his ultimate goal of securing a wife.

  Yes, her husband was a very smart man.

  But why? Why, if he was planning to kill off his partner, which she knew he hadn’t done, would he have stopped to get married first? The police were considering that he acted spontaneously forcing Denny’s car off the road. That whatever conversation they’d had the afternoon of Denny’s death had triggered Dominic’s violent intentions.

  Then there were the employees who had come forward. Witnesses outside of Denny’s office who heard raised voices coming from behind the closed door. Nothing specific. Just an increase in volume, according to what Hernandez told her.

  Caroline tried to remember Dominic’s mood when he’d come home that night. Something had been bothering him, but she hadn’t pushed him on it because she was too wrapped up in her own pain.

  But she knew that the only reason he’d gone to the office that night was because she sent him there. She’d backed him into a corner and he’d run. Could he have been planning to leave even before she confronted him?

  No. He’d reached out to her. He’d wanted to make love. Make up. Could a man whose mind was on murder even get a hard-on?

  Caroline huffed softly. Maybe she should take that to the police as proof of innocence.

  The limo stopped. Startled Caroline looked up at the monstrosity that was her house.

  “I thought I could put something together for lunch for us,” Anne suggested. “We can talk. Brainstorm about where Dominic might be.”

  “Good luck with that, darling,” Russell said but offered no reason for his skepticism. He exited the limo and offered a hand to his daughter.

  Caroline felt Steven staring at her from the other seat. “We can leave. Give you time and space.”

  “To do what?” He remained silent. “Exactly. There is no answer to this, Steven. None. I go around and around and nothing makes sense.”

  “The answers are there. I know they are. I know that eventually Dominic will call us and tell us what happened. It can’t end like this,” he said tightly.

  Feeling his frustration almost as keenly as her own Caroline reached out to pat his knee. “It’s okay. Come inside. Serena sent over a ton of food. She doesn’t know what to do now that she’s not taking orders from Dominic. I imagine she thinks cooking for me is the next best thing.”

  They made their way inside and Caroline and Anne headed off to the kitchen to see about food and coffee.

  “I can also put on some tea,” Anne said, fidgeting slightly with the single strand of pearls around her neck that complemented her simple black dress. “I don’t know why, but anytime anything bad happens people always want to brew tea. You know? Like tea has some magical property to make everything go away.”

  Caroline reached out and laid her hand over Anne’s. Immediately she stopped talking.

  “I’m sorry. I’m babbling.”

  “Don’t be,” Caroline said. “You’re worried and concerned. Just like the rest of us.”

  “Just like the rest of us.”

  Caroline paused for a second but decided she needed to know all the answers now. “Anne, what happened between you and Dominic?”

  Immediately Anne snatched her hand away. She looked stunned, as if she’d just been slapped across the face. Caroline followed her g
aze as she glanced over her shoulder, but the men had gone downstairs to Dominic’s office. Probably to look through his files, his drawers. The police had already taken everything relating to the company. But maybe there was something left behind that Steven would recognize as being important.

  “What are you saying?”

  “Please. I’m not doing this to pry or bring up something embarrassing. But I need to know everything. Everything about Dominic that I didn’t know before if I’m going to try and find him. At the party I felt as if there was something there. I don’t know. A weird vibe.”

  Anne’s shoulders slumped. Carefully she placed the two teacups she had in her hands on the counter. “That was my fault. I was trying too hard. It was a year ago. Steven was starting to talk about buying a piece of Encrypton. We were newly married, and let’s say that I didn’t take to it right away.”

  “I see.”

  “The truth is I’m spoiled,” she chuckled humorlessly. “My daddy gave me everything I ever wanted. And part of what I love about Steven is that he doesn’t. And part of what makes me furious with him is that he doesn’t. I made a ridiculous pass at Dominic because I wanted to hurt Steven. Anyway, Dominic shot me down and that was the end of it. Since then I guess I’ve wanted to make sure we were friends. Good friends. So that hopefully he would forget what I did. That’s what you saw at the party.”

  “Okay,” Caroline said.

  “It was a good party,” Anne said, laughing softly without any humor. “I always throw great parties.”

  And despite knowing that she and Anne were never going to be bosom buddies, Caroline couldn’t help but smile. Then another thought occurred to her. “You made a comment that day about how Dominic’s marriage affected all of you. I didn’t understand it then. Why would his marriage have anything to do with you?”

  Anne grimaced. “I guess you’re going to find out eventually. It’s part of the business agreement, the way their partnership is structured. If anything happened to any one of them, then their piece of the company is left to the other partners. The only exception would be if they had children.”

  “I don’t understand.” But she was afraid she did.