by Karen Renee
My lips pulled down, but I did my best to soften my frown. “Mother-daughter spat, I guess you would say.”
His brows furrowed. I thought he’d keep his disapproval to himself, but I was wrong. “She has nothing to spur a spat with you. Do you want me to talk to her?”
I dipped my chin. “No, Clint. And to be honest, she kinda does. We should be sticking together right now. Our grief... I don’t know, she’s pretty much the only person I can share it with fully, and vice versa.”
His chin dipped, his eyes intent on me. “You got me to share it with, too.”
A small smirk twisted my lips. “I do, and as often as you’re here, so does she. But you know it’s not quite the same.”
He sighed, then he kissed my forehead. “You’re right,” he murmured there.
I stepped back so he could leave, but a gray Ford Fusion pulled into the driveway. The windows were tinted, and I couldn’t make out who was behind the wheel other than the fact it was a man.
Under his breath, Clint muttered, “Fuck.” He turned to me. “You keep your mouth shut.”
My eyes narrowed. “Clint.”
His eyes widened. “That’s Gaspar, and I don’t know why he’s here, but I know I don’t like it.”
The burly detective unfolded from his car, reached behind the seat and pulled out a suit coat. He shrugged into it and strode up the walk. “Ms. Connelly. How are you?”
“I’m... well,” I said.
He didn’t even acknowledge Clint. With a look at my purse, he asked, “Are you heading somewhere? I thought we might talk inside.”
“This pertain to Bronwyn Connelly?” Clint asked.
Gaspar’s eyes cut to him. “This pertains to Ms. Connelly,” he said, his tone dismissive.
Clint nodded. “Then let’s hear it.”
Gaspar’s hazel eyes swung back to me. “Ma’am, he really isn’t—”
I shook my head. “No, anything you have to say, you can say in front of Clint.”
The change in his expression was minute, but I saw it held resignation and disappointment. “Fine. There was a report you were abducted last week?”
Clint opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. He looked at me and I figured that was my cue.
“That is correct.”
“Did you see who did it? Someone approach you?”
I shook my head. “No, I knew someone came up behind me, but before I could turn, I was cold-cocked.”
He glanced at Clint and back to me. “Was your rental car ever found?”
“It was still in the lot the next morning,” Clint put in.
Gaspar’s lips tightened for a moment. “How do you know that, Ramsey?”
Clint cocked a brow. “Because I drove her back on the off chance the car was still there.”
The detective returned the eyebrow arch. “And the keys were there?”
Clint shook his head. “No. Raegan had to request another set from the rental company.”
Gaspar shook his head, as though he knew Clint had hot-wired the vehicle. “And reports of gunshots outside this home?”
He directed the question to me, but had his gaze aimed at Clint. “An intruder. I wasn’t armed, but he didn’t expect to find me in the bed, let alone my fist in his face.”
Detective Gaspar looked at me, then back to Clint. “You investigating?”
Clint’s jaw shifted for a beat. “Not officially. She’s my woman.”
“Anything happen since the gunfire?”
“Nothing I can report,” Clint said.
“Meaning?”
Clint sighed. “Meaning, I think someone pressured a waitress to mickey Raegan’s drink when we were out, but I don’t know it for sure. I prevented her from drinking it and got us the hell out of there.”
Silence fell, but before I could fill it, Clint did.
“Why are you here? This your case now? Thought you closed Bronwyn’s case?”
Gaspar’s eyes slid to me briefly. “I did, but the events surrounding Ms. Connelly may require reopening it.”
“Did the ME get the analysis of stomach contents back yet?” Clint asked.
The detective’s head twitched. “Is there some reason you’d like to know?”
Clint shrugged a shoulder. “No. I just find it strange a woman who was a certified lifeguard was found dead in a bathtub. If anyone knew about water safety, it was Bronwyn.”
After a somber glance my way, Gaspar said, “Some suicides don’t come with notes.”
Clint made a low noise that sounded like a growl. “That’s bullshit, and it’s offensive. Especially to the victim’s sister.”
Gaspar turned to me. “If you should remember anything about your assailants, please call.”
I nodded, since I didn’t trust myself to speak.
He went back to his sedan and left. Clint stood with me for a long moment after he’d driven away. I wanted to ask what he was thinking about, but I knew better than to cut in on his thoughts.
When he looked down at me, I could tell he was conflicted. “Part of me wants to trust him, but my gut says he’s too damn slick.”
My head tilted back and forth slightly. “Be nice if he reopens the case. I’m not sure yet, but I have a feeling getting Bronwyn’s life insurance money is going to be a pill if it’s deemed accidental. Probably impossible if Gaspar gets asked and he mentions he thinks it’s a suicide.”
Clint sighed. “Hadn’t even thought about that shit. You taking care of that for Penny?”
I nodded. “It’s among the many things I have to do today. Call the insurance people, call New York—”
“Say again,” he demanded.
I looked up at him. “It’s been weeks since my interview with Eastern, Sharpe, and Prescott, and they deserve to know my status. I’m not going back to New York, and they need to find someone else.”
A smile played at Clint’s lips, but he was staring at a spot over my shoulder. He focused on me and the lip twitch died. “Why can’t you work for them from here?”
I turned my head slightly to the side. “I don’t think that’ll fly, Clint. So much of advertising is about meetings and brainstorming and—”
“And people Facetime now, or Skype. If they want you, hotshot, make them want you from here. And if you have a meeting you have to attend, it’s not like Orlando International is some backwater regional airport. Haven’t checked lately, but I know there are direct flights to La Guardia.”
I pressed my lips together as I thought about it. Ordinarily, I didn’t tell employers anything about my personal life, even after I’d been working there past the probationary period. It was bad enough that I had married a coworker, and this firm knew that. Yet, there was no getting around the fact Mom needed a modicum of care, and that would cost at least three times as much in New York.
Locking eyes with Clint, I said, “You’re right. I’ll see what they say to that.”
He pecked my lips. “Great. Go get your Mom sorted out, honey. I’ll call you around lunch, if I can.”
Clint
I WALKED INTO THE OTERO-Silva offices after I finished a call with a buddy who still worked at the Orange County Sheriff’s Office. At the rate I was requesting favors, I would owe him an entire case of his favorite booze.
As I entered the office, Deanne smiled at me. “Good afternoon, Ramsey.”
I cocked my head. “Ha-ha, smartass. It’s only nine-thirty, and I’d have been here on time if not for a visit from Detective Gaspar.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Better you than me.”
My brows furrowed. “How do you even know him?”
She shook her head. “You don’t want to know, but I was relieved to hear he finally got married.”
At her words, I knew she was right. I didn’t want to know.
Paul’s door was open, and I knocked on the jamb. “You got a minute, boss?”
He lifted his chin. As I walked in, he asked, “I hear that right? Gaspar paid you a visit?”
I nodded
. “Well, not me, but Raegan. I just happened to be on my way out the door when he showed.”
Confusion washed over his face. “I thought you were determined to stay away from her?”
I sighed. “Things changed when she was taken from a Target parking lot.”
He nodded. “I would think so. What did Gaspar want?”
“Mind if I close the door?” I asked, moving back to the door.
“Not at all.”
After closing the door, I took a seat. “Gaspar was following up about Raegan’s abduction, but what I wanted to tell you about was the visit we received yesterday from Tommy Debenedetti.”
He blinked in surprise. “Debenedetti visited your home?”
I shook my head. “He and his goon broke into Raegan’s mother’s house. Seems Penny had an affair with him back when Rae was five or six.”
Paul’s gray brows pulled together. “Her mother must be young.”
I snorted. “She’s seventy-one. The age gap between them probably didn’t mean much at the time. The rumors about Tommy kidnapping a girl... turns out that little girl was his own daughter.”
“Lots of people speculated that. Did he tell you this?”
“Penny did. The daughter is essentially the link which brought them together, for a time.”
Paul spun a pen on his desk. “So why was Debenedetti there?”
“Said a hit was taken out for Raegan, and Wynnie’s death was a case of mistaken identity.”
He sat forward. “He wouldn’t fuckin’ know that unless—”
“Unless he was offered the hit, but didn’t take it,” I said, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees.
Paul mulled it over. “Maybe not, but since you’re telling me about this, I assume he said he doesn’t know who took the job.”
I nodded. “Yes, but I don’t buy it. Something’s off. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“How so?”
“He knew just enough, but not enough. You know?”
“Cagey.”
I looked at the ceiling for a moment. “That, but also, his regret seemed like it ran deeper than just sympathy for an ex-lover who lost a daughter. And, he’s insistent that if I leave Penny without my protection, I notify him.”
His lips twisted. “I can almost see that. Nobody wants someone they were close to –even if it was long ago– to die. Part of why so many are trying to take over his turf. He’s always had a heart... for a criminal.” He shrugged. “Hell, when he first started out rumor was it was his heart that drove him into crime in the first place.”
I leaned back in my seat. “Really?”
“The daughter died, right?”
I nodded.
Paul continued. “That must have happened while he was trying to get custody. He had legal bills, and his legitimate business wasn’t helping him make ends meet. Sad to say, but crime pays... or at least it did back in the nineties. Assuming one didn’t get caught, of course.”
The silence between us stretched because I was having second thoughts. My intention had been to request time off so I could devote my time to figuring out Raegan’s problem. But I knew being the only person on this was a bad idea. Of all my cases, this one demanded as much objectivity as possible.
“You’ve made a strange bedfellow,” Paul muttered.
My head tilted. “I wouldn’t go that far, but he did say he’s my ally. Of all things.”
“Why are you telling me this, Clint?”
The moment of truth.
Paul was a good boss because he would hear everyone out. When I first realized that about him, I thought it made him weak, but I quickly saw my mistake. It made him easy to work for and prompted all his employees to be straight with him, even when it was difficult.
With that in mind, I said, “I thought I was telling you all that in order to justify taking time off. But I know being the lone wolf on Raegan’s problem isn’t a good idea. If you’d prefer me to take time off, I will, but don’t put someone on this and keep me out of it. No way I won’t do everything in my power to keep her safe.”
“She lives in New York, doesn’t she?”
“Not for much longer. We’re giving it another shot. She’s calling the firm she interviewed with earlier in September to let them know. Maybe they can arrange something where she can work from Orlando. I don’t know, but losing a sister, having your own life threatened. It wakes you up.”
He nodded. “Fine. Had you taken the time off and gone it alone, what were you planning to do? After I hear your plan, I’ll see who can be spared from cases.”
BY THE TIME LUNCH ROLLED around, I remembered to call Raegan. Her cell immediately went to voice mail and I fought the urge to panic. Scrolling through my phone, I found Penny’s home number and pressed the call icon.
It rang three times before Tanya answered, “Connelly residence.”
I clenched my teeth, but unclenched them to ask, “Tanya, where is Raegan?”
Her smile reflected in her voice. “She’s on the back patio, Clint. Has been most of the morning, but she just stepped out there five minutes ago when some number from New York came up on her phone.”
I exhaled, surprised at the amount of relief I felt. “All right. Well, when she’s done. Let her know I called, and I won’t be able to swing by for lunch.”
She lowered her voice. “Anything for me to tell Penny? I’ll let Rae know all that, but I think something’s bugging Penny and I can’t figure it out.”
I frowned. “Tell her my boss is taking Wynnie’s case pro-bono, but make sure you do that when Raegan isn’t around to hear it.”
“Seriously?” she asked in a whisper.
“Yes. And I repeat, make sure Rae doesn’t hear you.”
“You got it. And if I haven’t mentioned it before, you’re the man, Clint Ramsey!”
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I didn’t burst her bubble.
Chapter 21
There’s Always a Choice
Raegan
WHEN I GOT OFF THE phone, three hours had passed and my stomach told me it was lunchtime. I had spent the bulk of those three hours bickering with the insurance company about Wynnie’s death.
My call to Eastern, Sharpe, and Prescott went far smoother in comparison. They understood my predicament, and while there was a regional office in Orlando, they would need time to consider if the position could be done from here. A decision would be made by the end of the week.
When I set my cell phone on the patio table, the heavy dread I expected to feel in my chest wasn’t there. If it worked out, that would be great, but Mom was right; a high-ranking position wouldn’t keep me warm at night. Of all the changes I was making, this one seemed to be the easiest.
I went back inside to find Tanya putting the house phone on the charger base. “Did the phone ring?”
She grinned. “Sure did. Clint just called, said he wouldn’t be by for lunch.”
I nodded. “Speaking of, what do you and your brood want for lunch?”
“Pizza!” Jared cried.
She shook her head at her son. “No, sweetie.” She looked at me. “That’s all right, Rae. Marcus has a check-up, so we have to run.”
I gave her a light hug and helped her get her two boys out the door.
Mom and I ate lunch, and watching her squeeze a peanut open, I realized there was a method to Clint’s madness. The shells were softer than dry-roasted peanuts, which allowed Mom to work her fingers and maybe feel a small sense of triumph which she likely wouldn’t get much of with dry shells.
Mom scowled at me. “What are you thinking about so hard? Calculating my sodium by the peanut?”
I breathed out a laugh. “No. Clint convinced me those things don’t have as much sodium as I thought, and I actually see why he gives them to you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Because I like them, Raegan. No other reason than that.”
I shrugged. “If you say so, Mom. When do you see your therapist again?”
“Tom
orrow. Ten-thirty.”
Not knowing what Clint was doing, I texted him about Mom’s appointment. I didn’t know how long I’d be on house arrest, but I figured taking her to the doctor was out of the question.
As I put the phone down, the doorbell rang.
“I wonder who that could be?” Mom muttered.
I didn’t know, but I went to the counter where my purse was hidden and took the gun out. Halfway to the door, I realized I didn’t need the gun. Juanita stood on the porch, cupping her eyes to the door.
I shook my head but hurried to open the door.
“Juanita. What brings you by?”
“You didn’t come to the salon, so I’m bringing the salon to you. Plus, I don’t know what I was thinking last night. We only pull a half day on Mondays, so if you’ve eaten, we’ll highlight your hair.”
I pressed my lips together as I recalled Clint’s comments about that.
While she came inside, her gaze sharpened on me. “Why do you look like that? Last night you seemed excited and I know it wasn’t the wine talking.”
I shook my head. “Let’s just say, Clint...”
“Is not here, is what we should say about Clint.”
I chuckled. “Yes, but he did not like the idea of me doing anything to my hair. Said, if I wanted highlights, I should go jogging with him.”
She threw her head back with laughter. “And are you jogging with him any time soon?”
I shrugged.
She pointed at me. “Exactly! That hair isn’t going to highlight itself. Let’s go. Mi hijo will understand when it’s all said and done.”
Mom wandered into the living room and I noticed she wasn’t using her walker. I made a mental note to ask about that later, both with her and with her therapist in the morning.
“Good afternoon, Penny,” Juanita greeted.
“Hello, Juanita. Did I hear you plan to highlight her hair?”
“You did.” She gave Mom an assessing look. “I could give you a trim or something if you like while we wait on her color to set.”
Mom smiled weakly. “Let me think about it, but I’m excited to see Raegan get her hair done. You mind if I watch my soaps?”
“I would mind more if you didn’t.” Juanita turned to me. “Where will we have the most room? The guest bathroom or...”