Suspicion of Guilt

by Tracey V. Bateman

“What a weasel.”

  Reece’s lips twisted into a wry grin at Leigh’s assessment of his charm—or the lack thereof. He paused on the other side of the wall separating him from the kitchen, feeling like a jerk for eavesdropping, but thinking he might be handed a clue on a silver platter if he hung out at the door for awhile.

  “We don’t have time to think about him right now, Leigh,” Denni’s voice responded. “What am I going to do about Monday’s luncheon?”

  “Oh, brother. I forgot about that.”

  Luncheon? The woman had a serial saboteur on her hands and she was giving a party? Reece scowled.

  Leigh’s voice continued. “Who can we call to get the basement pumped out?”

  “There’s no point. The electric company won’t shut off the electricity until Monday.”

  “Well, that’s that.”

  Denni’s sigh went straight to Reece’s heart. He shook it off. Now was not the time to get soft about the house mother. For all he knew, she might be the one responsible for the mishaps. He’d have to look into her insurance policy again.

  In the meantime, she was going to take his help whether she wanted it or not.

  He lifted his cell phone from his belt and dialed while he walked to his truck, a gray and black Avalanche. He leaned against the door listening to the rings.

  “Hey, Jack,” he said when his friend answered the phone. “I have a little problem I need some help with.”

  “What’s that?”

  “How hard would it be to get a rush order to shut off someone’s electricity?”

  “What kind of police work calls for you to do that?”

  “None. This is a personal favor. The lady has a basement full of water and can’t pump it out while the electricity is on.”

  He hesitated a minute. “Give me the address and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks, Jack. Oh, one more thing. Can you turn it back on tomorrow? She has a luncheon on Monday.”

  A knowing chuckle reached his ears. “Hey, don’t tell me you finally found someone who actually wants to go out with you.”

  Heat burned his neck. The idea of dating Denni Mahoney had merit. As a matter of fact, he’d thought of it more than once. And if the case ever wrapped up, he might ask her out, but not now. “No. Nothing like that.” He gave him the address and quickly disconnected the call.

  Before he could lift the door handle and climb into the truck, a low growl caught his attention, setting his senses on high alert.

  With careful movement, he turned his head. A Doberman stood not five feet away, teeth bared, and looking ready to bite a hunk out of him.

  “Easy, boy.”

  “Buffy! Leave that man alone!”

  Buffy? This had to be the worst case of misnaming an animal he’d ever encountered. Boy or girl, Buffy looked more like a Bruiser or a Spike.

  Still he felt a little embarrassed to have been so antsy, when an elderly woman marched right up to the dog and smacked it on the nose as though Buffy didn’t have the capacity to bite off a thumb. “Shame on you,” she scolded. “What have I told you about being nasty to people?”

  Buffy’s pink tongue shot out and lathered the woman’s wrinkled hand. She melted visibly. “Oh, you’re such a sweetie pie,” she crooned.

  “Ma’am. I take it this is your dog?”

  “Of course, she is. Aren’t you, Buffy Boo?”

  Reece tensed. The baby talk was getting on his nerves. Flashing his badge, he put on his best off-duty-but-still-a-cop face. “Inside the city limits, Buffy has to stay behind a fence or inside the house where she isn’t a threat to anyone.”

  “Buffy wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  “The behavior I just witnessed was pretty aggressive, ma’am. I thought I might have to pepper-spray her.”

  The woman gasped then frowned, causing deep furrows between her eyes. “Nothing more than police brutality.”

  Reece scowled. All he needed was a woman on the verge of hysteria over her vicious dog.

  He was about to leave her with a simple warning to get the dog secured somehow, when she pointed her shaky, gnarled finger at him. “My Buffy is the only protection I have from the neighborhood thugs and thieves.” She jerked her head toward Mahoney House. “Do you know who lives there?” she asked in a hoarse whisper. “Juvenile delinquents.” The smug look she gave him clearly stated that she need say no more. “They come and go at all hours of the night with their earrings and spiked hair.”

  Against all reason, Reece found his defenses creeping upward. “Ma’am. I’m not in the habit of harassing elderly ladies and their guard dogs. However, the law states all dogs be kept secured. You can’t leave her out even if you don’t approve of your neighbors. Is that clear?”

  Anger shot through her faded blue eyes. “I’ll put her back behind her fence, but I can’t guarantee she won’t get loose and go after one of them.”

  “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”

  The lady snorted and tugged on Buffy’s collar. “Come on sweet ’ums. Let’s get you home and give you some food.”

  Squinting against the sun’s reflection off the back of his truck, Reece watched her leave, Buffy in tow. Now, there was a woman with a reason to get Mahoney House closed down. Why hadn’t Denni ever mentioned trouble with her neighbors?

  Making a mental note to do some more investigating, Reece climbed behind the wheel and cranked the engine. This case was bizarre. It irked him that so many months had gone by without a crack. Robbery and sabotage? How did the two of them go hand in hand?

  He had figured one of the girls had lifted the electronics from the house and sold them for quick cash, but Denni had a point. What reason would they have for flooding the basement of their own home? The neighbor, on the other hand, might have a reason for sabotage, but the thought of that little old lady sneaking into the house and pilfering almost made him laugh. Not that it was completely impossible, but it was improbable and certainly not something he’d want to bring up to his chief.

  He glanced at Mahoney House. A curtain dropped as though someone had been watching him. Denni? He smiled, but dismissed the likelihood. It was a nice little fantasy to boost his ego, anyway.

  Two hours later, he was on his way back to the Mahoney House with a borrowed portable pump and a generator in the back of his truck.

  The electricity should be off by now and he had Jack’s word that he’d turn it back on tomorrow evening. Reece wasn’t helping out just to be a nice guy. This was also his way of spending time with the girls in their own environment. Something he’d never had the chance to do before. Maybe he could earn their trust. And someone would start talking.

  The added bonus was the time he would spend with Denni Mahoney. His throat constricted at the thought. From their first rocky meeting, he’d been attracted to her despite the circumstances. With round eyes the color of melted chocolate, sweet perfume, shiny hair and soft curves, she was the embodiment of beauty and femininity. Alluring enough to warm a man’s blood, yet innocent enough for him to picture her in a white wedding gown carrying a bouquet at the same time.

  The memory of her eyes flashing with anger when she defended the girls made him grin. She was spunky to boot. He was determined to find the person responsible for trying to thwart her dream. So far, trying to be the hard-edged cop hadn’t drawn out the saboteur. Maybe it was time to turn on the charm.

  Chapter Two

  Peeking from behind the burgundy drapes hanging at the living-room window, Denni felt her heart jump at the sight of Reece’s truck pulling into the drive.

  In a way, she wanted to ask him, “Hey, what part of ‘no’ don’t you understand, buddy?” But mostly, she wanted to throw her arms around him and thank him for taking matters into his own hands and not accepting no for an answer.

  “What’s he doing back here?” Leigh’s voice next to Denni arrested her attention, pulling her from the vision of flying into Reece’s well-muscled arms.

  “Looks like he decided
to help us clean up whether we like it or not.”

  Leigh headed for the door—all bad attitude and body language. “Want me to get rid of him?”

  “No, don’t be rude. He’s doing us a favor.” Just why he was doing them a favor, she didn’t know. But she wasn’t opposed to figuring it out.

  “I think it’s sort of sweet.” Denni turned at the soft sound of Cate Sheridan’s voice. The girl waddled across the room, her eight-months-pregnant belly leading the way.

  “Sweet?” Leigh sniffed. “Those hormones are definitely affecting your brain. The guy’s been on our backs for months accusing us of robbing Denni. Now he’s blaming us for a flood. And you think he’s sweet?”

  “Crazy, isn’t it?” Cate grinned and elbowed Denni. “He sure is a hottie, don’t you think?”

  Warmth flooded Denni’s cheeks. It was one thing for her to consider Reece a good-looking man in the privacy of her own mind, another for the girls to notice. She rolled her eyes and tried to recover some dignity. “I’m too old to think ‘hottie’ when I see a guy.”

  “Yeah, right.” Leigh’s voice held no humor.

  Cate nudged Denni again and said in her best Southern drawl, “Ya might be old, honey. But ya ain’t dead.”

  Denni couldn’t hold back a laugh.

  Obviously seeing nothing funny about the whole situation, Leigh swept over them both with a glare. “Just remember this particular guy is out for my blood, Denni. Don’t let him charm you into suspecting one of us.”

  Denni turned to the girl, and her heart softened at the worry darkening Leigh’s black-lined eyes. “Leigh, I know you had nothing to do with any of the things that have happened around here. And it would take a lot more than a great-looking guy with big muscles to make me believe any different.”

  “You say that now. But you don’t know guys all that well, Denni. My mom used to run off with every charmer that came along until he’d dump her, then she’d take up with another one. And my mom isn’t a stupid woman. These guys are good talkers. Believe me, they know how to get what they want from a woman. Especially one as nice as you.”

  Three sharp raps on the door stopped Denni from pursuing the conversation. Leigh rarely talked about her biological mother. Perhaps she was almost ready to open up. But with Reece standing in the doorway, Leigh’s entire demeanor spoke of belligerence and the polar opposite of cooperation. Denni knew there would be no getting the girl to talk today.

  “What do you want, Corrigan?” Leigh demanded.

  “It’s all right.” Denni moved forward quickly in an effort to avoid an unpleasant scene. “I understand you’re to thank for getting the electric company to shut off the power for us.”

  He gave a modest grin and nodded as he stepped inside. “I overheard Miss Sommers mention your luncheon on Monday.”

  “Eavesdropper,” Leigh accused.

  “Yes,” Denni said firmly. “And thanks to his eavesdropping, we can get the basement cleaned up and perhaps pull off the luncheon without all ten churches deciding not to sponsor us.”

  Muttering words that burned Denni’s ears and never failed to make her stomach churn, Leigh spun around and stomped out of the room.

  The detective watched her go, his lips twisting into a sarcastic grin. “She’s going to have to stop throwing herself at me. It’s getting downright embarrassing.”

  Cate giggled. “It would definitely be a cold day—”

  “Cate, will you please go up and let the other girls know we’ll be starting on the basement soon?”

  Denni shook her head. Living with a group of girls who held to no strong faith, and who had pretty much seen and heard it all, definitely presented its challenges. With the exception of Rissa, all of the girls attended services only as part of their requirement for living at Mahoney House. Rissa had found a true commitment to Christ last year.

  Working to place children in foster homes for the past ten years, Denni had met caring families who provided loving, nurturing environments. The kids in those homes were the lucky ones. The children she was most concerned about were the others: the leftovers whose foster parents cashed the checks and spent them on their own pleasure, without providing properly for the children they had agreed to take in, the kids who fell through the cracks when they turned eighteen and the government stopped paying for their upkeep, at least as foster children. Many grew to adulthood and ended up in the welfare system, continuing a cycle of poverty and neglect.

  Denni knew she couldn’t fix the whole problem, but for five girls she was making a difference. At least she believed she was. Each was either in college or, in the case of Cate, taking online courses. Each had a part-time job as well and a mountain of hope for the future.

  If she could pull off the luncheon Monday afternoon, perhaps there would be room for twenty more girls. Two houses, larger than the four-bedroom Victorian home she currently owned, each providing a home for ten, plus a house mother of sorts. Denni would then serve as a paid coordinator for all the houses.

  She wanted it so badly she could taste it. Like a craving for milk chocolate or veal parmesan with sauce and gooey mozzarella cheese. It just had to be God’s will.

  “So, the girls…”

  Detective Corrigan’s voice brought her back to the moment. The proverbial fly in the ointment. This guy’s suspicions could blow everything sky-high. She had to find a way to convince him to point his investigation away from the girls.

  Denni watched him as his gaze perused the five eight-by-ten photographs arranged on the mantel above the stone fireplace.

  “What about the girls?” Defenses raised, Denni narrowed her gaze and geared up for a fight.

  “They all look so innocent. You’d never know from these pictures that one of them could be responsible for the mishaps around here.”

  “They look innocent because they are innocent.”

  “We’ll see.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re so sure one of my girls is responsible for these things, Reece. Again, what would they possibly have to gain?”

  He lifted his eyebrow and she felt herself blush. “Detective Corrigan, I mean.”

  “Hey, don’t worry about it. Reece is fine.” He gave her a shiny, white-toothed grin. “And I’m not so sure it’s one of them. Just checking out all of the possibilities. Denni.”

  She smiled back, trying to calm her racing pulse. “First-name basis, eh? Doesn’t that seem a little friendly considering our positions? I shouldn’t have initiated it.”

  “Maybe I like friendly.” His eyes captured hers and held. Denni couldn’t breathe. With every fiber of her being she wanted to believe that Reece truly found her appealing. But just as quickly, reason struck a dissonant chord and her chest tightened. He hadn’t shown the slightest interest in her over the course of the three-month investigation, so why now? All of a sudden he was softening his stance about the girls. Pretending he wasn’t so sure it was one of them when he’d never even considered anyone else before today.

  She folded her arms. “All right, Corrigan. Just what are you trying to pull here?”

  Reece couldn’t help but grin at Denni, face twisted into a fierce scowl and her feet planted on the floor as though she were digging in for the fight of her life.

  “I’m not trying to pull anything. Can’t a guy think you’re cute and want to get to know you better?” He gave her another smile and watched her closely, looking for a crack in her armor.

  She sniffed. “Oh, sure. You think I’m a real cutie, don’t you?” She shoved her hands onto her nicely rounded hips. “I’m exactly the same as I have been since you started slithering around here and you never looked twice before. As a matter of fact, I’ve recently put on about ten stress pounds. Real attractive, huh?”

  Actually, it was. It gave her a softer, curvier look that kept him fighting to keep his eyes focused above her neck. This time he lost the battle and gave her a once-over. Three months of weekly or more visits had taken its toll on his reserve. Denni Ma
honey was definitely under his skin.

  She frowned and sent him a dismissive wave before he could voice his opinion. “It doesn’t matter. I know what you’re up to. Trying to get in on my good graces so that you have better access to the girls. Well, just forget it. And you know what? You can just leave.” She pointed to the door.

  Okay, so maybe he should have eased into the new strategy. Although, he did still have an ace in the hole. “I’m not going anywhere just yet.”

  “You are if I say so.”

  “I came here to pump out your basement, and I don’t plan to leave until I do it.”

  “Because I’m so attractive you mean? You just can’t help but be my knight in shining armor?”

  Before he could answer, two of Denni’s girls entered the room. Searching his memory, he drummed up their names. The tall one he knew was Shelley Bartlett, a brunette with wire-framed glasses and a minor slump in her shoulders that he imagined was due to her height. She stared at him then moved on, her expression softening as her gaze rested on Denni.

  “Hey, Denni.” Rissa Kelley practically bounced into the room. Plump and rosy-cheeked, she had a quick smile and a touch of a Southern drawl that was obviously put-on since he knew she’d lived her entire life in central Missouri. “Cate said we’re ready to start cleaning up the basement.”

  “Just about.” Denni looked past the girls toward the door. “Didn’t Cate come back with you?”

  “She started feeling a little dizzy,” Leigh said, entering the room like a black cloud. Reece tensed. Was she going to explode into a vicious downpour? “I told her to stay in bed. She shouldn’t be doing this kind of work, anyway.”

  Denni nodded. “Agreed. I’ll check on her in a little while.” She turned to Reece. “Are you ready to get started?”

  “Isn’t there one more of you?” Reece asked, determined not to be completely left out.

  Leigh rolled her eyes. “How observant, Detective.”

  Oh, boy, would he like to slap the cuffs on that one and toss her into a cell. He’d lay odds she was behind this whole thing. Only, Denni had brought up a good point earlier. What was her motive? But he dismissed the thought. Not everyone needed a motive to try to harm the very people doing their best to help. Jonathon had been proof of that, hadn’t he?