by Kim Davis
When the doorbell rang, I clipped a leash on Piper and then answered the door. Mel stood there, glaring at Detective Jackson. Piper barked at the two men and lunged at the detective. The leash almost slipped from my hand, but I grabbed it before Piper snapped at him.
“I’m so sorry about that, Detective Jackson.” I pulled Piper back into the house and wedged her behind me. “This has been an upsetting time for her, and she must feel the need to protect me. Let me crate her.”
As I placed a soft chew toy in the crate with my dog, I wondered about the detective. Why had Piper tried to attack him? I thought dogs were good judges of character, and I worried Detective Jackson might be involved, aside from trying to prove I was Tori’s killer.
The two men had let themselves in and sat at my dining table. I nodded at them both before choosing a seat next to Mel.
“Detective Jackson, what brings you here?” My voice quivered. “Surely my house being broken into doesn’t warrant a homicide detective taking down the report.”
“I want to make sure you’re not using this as a way to get rid of any evidence.” He waved his hand around the room. “I’ll need to look around and dust for prints. Not that I expect to find any.”
My eyes narrowed. I was ready to give in to my annoyance over his assumptions and tell him off. When a meaty hand squeezed my arm, and I saw my attorney glaring at me instead of at the detective, I clamped my lips together and kept them clamped.
“Fine,” I hissed from the corner of my mouth.
“Do you mind if I look around now, Mrs. Martinez?” The detective seemed to be trying to avoid involving Mel.
“Do you have a warrant?” my attorney answered.
“No. Your client called us about a break-in, remember?”
This wouldn’t get resolved unless I stepped up. “Fine, the smashed window is in my bedroom. The jerk dumped all my clothes on the floor and destroyed some photos. Nothing is missing that I can tell, but I’d like to file a report for the insurance company just in case.”
Mel turned his glare back at me, and I shrugged. “I want to get this over with so I can repair the window and clean up since my mother scheduled a real estate agent to come over in the morning.”
I slapped my hand over my mouth. Oh. My. Gosh. My mother would flip if I didn’t have this place pristine when she showed up in the morning with the realtor. I realized, with or without a window repairman, I wouldn’t be sleeping at all tonight.
“You’re not wasting any time moving forward, Mrs. Martinez.” The detective sat back down. “Is there a particular reason for rushing to sell your home?”
Again a meaty hand squeezed my arm, except the squeeze was a lot harder this time. Mel must have been trying to make his point and get me to stop opening my mouth.
“My client’s reasons are personal, Detective, and have nothing to do with your case.”
“I guess that remains to be seen, but it definitely makes me suspicious.”
As if I needed anything else to make him suspicious of me. Why wasn’t he looking into Philip? Oh yeah, my hopefully-soon-to-be-ex was a cop. They stuck together and protected their own.
Once Detective Jackson was out of hearing range, my attorney turned his glare back to me. “If you weren’t Lars’s stepdaughter, I would decline representing you. What part of not talking do you not understand?”
Funny thing, before all this murder stuff, I would have said I was a very quiet and shy person. I didn’t chat much unless Tori got me wound up. But now, I couldn’t be quiet to save my life.
“I don’t mean to talk. It’s just that I have to make him understand I’m innocent.”
“No, you don’t have to make him understand you’re innocent. Your job is to sit there and be quiet. My job is to keep you out of jail by providing reasonable doubt when you go to trial.” Mel leaned in close to my ear and hissed, “Do I make myself clear?”
I nodded and plastered what I hoped was a contrite expression on my face. My stomach felt like a volcano ready to erupt. I didn’t want reasonable doubt. I wanted people to know I was completely innocent instead of always wondering how I got away with murder, like they did with O. J. Simpson. It looked like I would have to step up my own investigation, since neither my attorney nor Detective Jackson would clear my name.
Mel cleared his throat. “Emory, please pay attention.”
“What?”
“I’ve been trying to ask you why you’re putting the condo up for sale.”
“Because I lost my job and I’m in debt, thanks to Philip. I don’t trust him to help pay for the loans he took out, so I’m selling.”
“I heard about you getting fired. You should have called me.”
“Why? There isn’t anything you could have done.” News apparently traveled fast in our town. I was sure I’d hear from Mother that her bridge club ladies’ chatter would be focused on my troubled life. She wasn’t going to be happy.
“It’s a wrongful termination. I can still file a lawsuit and get your job back.”
“Uh, let’s not do that yet. My mother thinks she can get me another job and a place to live.” I cringed when I said that. I sounded like a loser, but I would be utterly humiliated to show my face back at my accounting firm.
“Just let me know when you’re ready.” Mel stood to leave.
“Do you have to go now? There’s something I want to show you after the detective leaves.”
“Oh, you mean this?” Detective Jackson strode into the room, holding up the baggie containing the stolen artwork.
Chapter 20
“How did you…?” My voice squeaked. “That’s not mine. I can explain it.”
“Detective Jackson, would you give me a moment to confer with my client?” Mel’s forehead wrinkles were furrowed so deep from frowning at me, you could have planted seeds in them.
I thought I saw the detective roll his eyes, but at least he nodded. “I need to go through the clothing more thoroughly. See if I missed anything.”
“Wait, you were only supposed to take fingerprints and write a report for my insurance company.” Once more, the meaty hand clamped onto my arm and squeezed. I was sure I would have a bruise.
“My client is right. We’ll have to ask you to leave all of her property here and come back with a search warrant.”
“Nice try, Mel. You know I can confiscate items if I happen to think a crime has been committed.” Detective Jackson laughed. “By the way, thanks for leaving the ladder set up in the closet. It made my job easier. I’ll be back with a warrant to continue my search.”
“When will that be?”
Mel gave me another scowl.
“My mother is coming with a real estate agent in the morning, and it would be awkward if you came while they were both here.”
Oh boy, it would be beyond awkward. My mother would disown me if that happened. I tried not to think about how it would be even worse when I was arrested for possession of stolen artwork.
“I think you have more serious issues than dealing with your mother, Mrs. Martinez. Whoever broke in showed a lot of rage when they smashed your jewelry box and ripped up your photos. On top of this problem.” The detective held up the painting.
I knew what he said was true, but then again, he didn’t know my mother.
After the detective left without telling me when he would be back with the warrant, Mel called a glass company, and someone on the phone promised they would replace the window within an hour. I let Piper out of her crate and offered my attorney some tea or coffee, which he declined. After I made myself some hot tea with honey, I popped a dozen frozen Lemon Crinkles into the oven. I needed comfort.
With a sigh, Mel plopped back into a dining-room chair. “You’d better tell me how you got into this fiasco tonight while we wait for the glazier.”
I explained how I had found the painting hiding in my childhood jewelry box, which I hadn’t opened in years.
“I assume your fingerprints are covering the purported s
tolen painting?”
“I didn’t know what it was, so I picked it up.” I shook my head. “It has to be Tori’s or maybe Philip’s, even though I find it hard to believe. But there’s no other explanation.”
“It’s obvious whoever broke in here is angry the painting wasn’t where they left it.” Mel looked me over. “You shouldn’t stay here, even with the window repaired. Maybe you can stay with a friend—or better yet, with your mother and Lars, since they live in a gated, guarded community.”
I shuddered. “Let me call my sister. I can sleep on their sofa.”
“Do you really want to put your sister and her children in danger? Someone is angry and might try to find that package again.”
“Oh, I didn’t think about that. You’re right.” I shuddered again. “I’ll have to stay with my mother.”
Even though Mel had declined a beverage, he ate almost the full baking sheet of warm Lemon Crinkles. While the cookies kept him occupied, I hurriedly stuffed clothing into the closet and the drawers of my dresser, not bothering to hang or fold anything up. I kept a few things out to put into an overnight bag to take to my mother’s house, but I was more concerned about the condo looking decent for the real estate appointment. After I cleaned up the last bit of broken glass, the doorbell rang. I put Piper back into her crate so she wouldn’t bark her head off at yet another stranger entering our home.
“Thanks for coming by on such short notice.” I swung the door wide open to admit the glazier. Only it wasn’t the glass guy. It was Randall.
“Did I come at a bad time?”
“It might have been appropriate to call before you dropped by.” I brushed a cookie crumb from my cheek and hoped I didn’t have others clinging to my face. “Someone broke in, so I’m waiting for the glass repair person.”
“I called several times and left messages. When I didn’t hear from you, I was a little worried. Are you okay?”
“You might as well come in. My attorney is here too.”
Randall followed me into the kitchen, where I introduced him and my attorney to each other. I put more frozen cookie balls, chocolate chip this time, into the hot oven, and let Piper back out of her crate. Instead of barking at Randall, she sniffed him, nudged his hand, and insisted he pet her. Interesting. I hoped that meant she was a good judge of character, but then again, my dog adored Philip.
“Is anything missing? Do you know why they broke in?”
“Nothing is missing that I can tell.”
Now, if my attorney hadn’t been present, I would have spilled the entire story. But one menacing glare from Mel reminded me to keep my lips zipped. I also remembered that he charged by the hour, which made him an expensive babysitter—one I couldn’t afford, even under the best circumstances.
“Mel, since Randall is here to keep me company, you don’t need to wait around for the glazier.” Hint, hint. When I saw him eyeballing the cookies in the oven, I wondered if he’d take cookies as a form of payment. “I’m sure the repairman will be here soon, and I promise to go back to my mother’s tonight.”
Mel took a long look at Randall and nodded. “Make sure she does that, young man.”
“Sure. No problem.”
My dog gave Randall a gentle nose nudge to remind him she was being neglected, so he bent back down to give Piper more love.
I walked my attorney to the door and opened it just as the glass guy rang the bell. I cringed. Piper wasn’t in her crate. This could get ugly. My dog wasn’t a bad dog, but she was protective and acted like she wanted to tear someone’s arm off, especially when the doorbell rang and a stranger appeared. Once she settled down, she was fine, which was why the crate training had been helpful. Except, this time, there was no barking and no golden mass of fur barreling through the front door at the unsuspecting man.
Mel had finished giving the glazier instructions, so I led the middle-aged man, dressed in a khaki uniform with the name Cody embroidered on his shirt, to my bedroom. He took a few measurements and asked if I could leave the front door unlocked, since he’d be going in and out multiple times. My dog was being uncharacteristically quiet, so I went back to the kitchen and found Piper on her back, legs splayed out. Randall was giving her a massage. I shivered—in a good way—when I imagined getting a massage like that from Randall. I shook my head. I did not need to go there.
“Are you a dog whisperer? I’ve never, ever seen her so mellow with a stranger in the house.”
He laughed, his voice low and utterly sexy. “Piper’s a good dog. She just needs an alpha to show her some attention.”
Whoa. It was getting hot in here, and it wasn’t because the cookies were baking. I startled when I realized I’d left the cookies in the oven and forgot to set a timer. I rushed to the oven and opened the door, expecting to see smoke roiling out. Instead, perfect golden rounds of cookies oozing melted chocolate chips sat on the baking sheet.
After moving the cookies to a wire rack to cool, I excused myself to call my mother. It took me a while to find my phone, and when I turned it on, sure enough, I saw three voice mails from Randall. I paused and looked back at the man mesmerizing my dog. Why would he show up at my house when I didn’t answer my phone? It wasn’t like we were close or had even dated casually. Could he have been the person who broke into my house? It made little sense. I couldn’t think of how he might be connected to the painting unless Tori had told him she hid it here. All of a sudden, I felt uncomfortable being alone with him.
Chapter 21
I called my mother, who was appalled about the break-in. She immediately asked if she should reschedule the real estate agent. Given the awkward problem of the detective showing up with a search warrant, I didn’t want my mother anywhere around when that happened. I also didn’t want to warn her of the possibility, so I was glad she brought it up and not me. Nor did she need to hear that a search warrant hung over my head. I hoped the detective would be long gone by the time my mother showed up with the real estate agent.
“We had better reschedule the agent. Besides, Philip is on the title, so I need to get his agreement to sell the condo.” I planned to put off talking to him about that until I found out what would happen with the search warrant. “But the reason I called is my attorney doesn’t think I should stay here on my own. There’s a bit of, um, rage in the break-in. Can I stay with you tonight?”
My mother remained uncharacteristically quiet for a few moments. “Of course, darling. I’ll prepare the guest room. What time should we expect you?”
I looked at my watch. Ten already? “The glazier is working on the window now, so hopefully within an hour.”
I realized that was late for my parents, but I had no choice.
“Send me a text when you’re on your way.”
Back in the kitchen, I tried to come up with a plan to get Randall out of the house before the glass guy left, but he hadn’t finished telling me the story about Tori and his brother. My curiosity won over common sense. I also couldn’t bear to tear Piper away from her personal masseur. She looked like she was in doggie heaven.
“You never finished telling me about Tori and your brother the last time you were here. Would you like to talk about it now?”
Randall sat up, his magic fingers leaving Piper’s fur. She glanced at him then closed her eyes and drifted back into nirvana.
“Yeah, we were rudely interrupted. Your husband is a piece of work.”
“Soon to be an ex-husband, I hope.” I twisted a strand of hair around my finger. “I’m so sorry he tried to hit you. There’s no excuse for his behavior.”
Randall waved off my apology. “It’s not your fault, so don’t blame yourself. My brother worked with a few arrogant cops like that. You learn to avoid them as much as possible.”
Silence hung between us. I wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about his brother, and I didn’t want to pry. Well, I did want to pry, but I tried to be sensitive to the loss he must feel over his brother’s death. I got up, plated some cooled cookies, an
d set the plate on the table in front of Randall, while I waited for him to break the silence.
He picked one up and ate half of it in one bite. Once he swallowed, he finished the remaining half.
“Would you like a glass of milk or some tea with the cookies?”
“Water is fine.”
By the time I filled a glass with ice and filtered water, Randall had eaten three more cookies. Maybe the cookies were his dinner. I couldn’t judge. I’d eaten a dozen cookies for dinner a time or three.
“Thanks. These are fantastic.” He sighed contentedly. “I guess I should tell you about Dylan and Tori. Some days are harder than others to talk about it.”
“Take your time,” I murmured, although I really thought he needed to hurry so I wouldn’t get to my mother’s house too late.
“Right after Dylan graduated from the police academy, he became engaged to his high school girlfriend, Selena. They wanted a long engagement while she finished her college degree to get a teaching credential. In the meantime, he moved to the vice squad. He was a natural at undercover, since he had a darker complexion than I do and was bilingual, thanks to Selena and her family. Somehow, Tori befriended her, and a few months before the wedding, Selena found her new friend and my brother in bed together.”
Randall rubbed his face with both palms then twisted his neck back and forth until I heard a pop.
“The next thing I know, Dylan and Tori were engaged. I always thought something was off about Tori, but I couldn’t prove she was doing anything wrong. Dylan started acting different and spent more money, especially on expensive gifts for Tori. Gifts that I was sure he couldn’t afford. But he would never talk to me about it.”
Randall paused and cracked his knuckles. “His unit planned a big takedown after a reliable snitch told them about an incoming shipment of stolen cigarettes. I’m sure he told Tori about it. She was always asking us questions about our work. Anyway, when the unit showed up to make the arrests, they were met with heavy gunfire. They knew we were coming, and Tori was the one who warned them.”