Ginny protested. “He’s not on the list!”
“The police always suspect the spouse. It’s required.”
She shook her head. “He has an alibi. The older boy, Joey, woke in the night and decided to call his grandmother and ask her to bring him a truck for Christmas. The grandmother spoke to the boy, then asked him to put John on the phone. There’s a record of the call and the testimony of the grandmother.”
Jim leaned back in his chair. “If I were writing this story, I’d have some nefarious way to wake that child and the grandmother, then slip out, do the murder and go back to bed with no one the wiser, but at the moment I can’t see any way to work it.”
Ginny sighed. “Well, all we can do is hand our suspicions to Detective Tran and let her sort out the evidence. You’re staying for dinner, of course.”
“Of course, but then I have to go home, to bed.” He grinned at her. “Alone this time.”
“Hush! If someone overheard you, they might get the wrong idea.”
“I never laid a hand on you.”
Her brows rose archly. “No?”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
He caught her hand, pulling her into his arms. “Say that again!”
“Say what?”
“I do.”
“Not today.” She broke out of his embrace and headed for the kitchen. “Dinner in ten minutes.”
* * *
Monday evening
Loch Lonach Gun Range
It was nine p.m. and the winter night shrouded the concrete tunnel in shadows that flickered with the wind. The smell of gunpowder lingered in the air, visible as wisps of smoke and bits of paper drifting to earth. Ginny leveled her weapon and squeezed off two more shots, this time placing them in the forehead of the paper target. She and Caroline were running neck and neck on points, but Ginny’s were the better groupings: neat, precise, well controlled. She moved the target farther away and finished the box of ammo, then cleared her weapon, brought her target in, packed her equipment, tidied up the bay, and made her way to the common room, Caroline only a few minutes behind her.
When they were both seated at the tables, weapons disassembled and cleaning in progress, Caroline looked up and caught her eye. “You seemed pretty intense this evening. Something on your mind?”
Ginny inspected the patch she was using on the barrel of her gun, then went back to scrubbing. “What would you say if I told you there was a woman moving in on Jim?”
Caroline started laughing. “I’d say she has no chance, unless you have definitely decided against him, and you haven’t. Anyone I know?”
“Um hmmm. The cowgirl who came to the ceilidh last Friday night.”
“That one! Well, I can’t say I actually know her, but I did get an eyeful. What does Jim have to say about it?”
“That he’s innocent, of course.”
“If he needs a character witness, I’m willing to tell you what I saw.”
Ginny looked up. “Which was?”
“Can you spell ‘squeamish’?”
It was Ginny’s turn to laugh. “Actually, it’s not Jim’s behavior I’m concerned with. It’s hers.”
“She got hauled out onto the dance floor by Jane, who pretty much kept her occupied and—as I recall—Jim left early and alone.”
Ginny nodded. “So he told me, though not in those words.” She finished her task, reassembled her weapon, checked it carefully, then put it away. After which she leaned back in her chair and fixed her eyes on Caroline. “May I ask you something completely inappropriate?”
“Sure.”
They had been friends since elementary school. There was very little either did not know about the other.
“Have you ever been tempted to kill another woman for stealing your man?”
Caroline finished what she was doing before replying. “You’re assuming I’ve been in that position.”
“I know you have.”
“Are you, perhaps, referring to my first summer away from home?”
Ginny nodded. No one had pressed charges, but Caroline had come home early, with cuts and bruises she had never bothered to explain.
Caroline draped one arm over the back of her chair and crossed her legs. “I left her alive.”
Ginny grinned. “I know that. I also know you put her in the hospital.”
Caroline lifted an eyebrow. “She did the same to me, but it was mostly accident. That Colorado slope we were having our discussion on turned out to have some very sharp stones at the bottom of it.”
“Why did it come to blows?”
“Shoves. Because she was lying.”
“So you hit her.”
“Heaven forefend! I asked her to refrain from spreading false tales and explained carefully that to continue was not in her best interest.”
Ginny’s brow furrowed. “What did she hope to gain by lying?”
“The contested male. It worked, too. He wouldn’t have dumped me if he hadn’t believed her.”
“She stole your property by bearing false witness.”
Caroline wrinkled her nose. “Well, he wasn’t my property, but I had kind of hoped he might be.”
“How long did it last?”
“What? The relationship?”
“Your fury.”
Caroline shrugged, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. “If you mean, how long before I got over him, about two months. If you mean, have I forgiven her, not yet.”
Ginny’s eyebrows rose. “But that was years ago!”
Caroline shrugged again. “It’s the principle of the thing. Dirty, underhanded tactics and the triumph of evil. I never get used to that.” She studied Ginny in silence for a moment. “Why are you asking? I mean, why now?”
Ginny met her eye, then told her the whole of her suspicions about Lisa Braden, by the end of which Caroline was frowning.
“Mentally ill, really?”
“Do I know? Jim says if she was really off her rocker someone would have noticed.”
“I don’t suppose you can get her a referral to a psychiatrist.”
“Not unless she snaps in public. What I wanted to know from you was how long a woman can hold a grudge.”
Caroline brushed that aside with her hand. “Forever, but hiding it can become a strain.”
“She’d be living a lie.”
“Yes.”
Ginny’s brow furrowed. “And if the lie was challenged, it would increase the stress.”
“When, not if. Things like that have a way of getting out.”
Ginny pulled her mind back from Lisa and focused on Caroline. “Speaking of which, have you told Alan, yet?”
“Told him what?”
“That you’ve decided he’s not that bad?”
Caroline arched an eyebrow. “We’re working in that direction.”
“You’ll let me know if I can help?” Ginny smiled sweetly.
“I’ll let you know you can keep your nose out of my business!” Caroline’s brow descended. “Going back to Lisa. If I were you, I’d go talk to that sister.”
Ginny considered this. “You think she knows something?”
“Maybe. Sometimes sisters do and sometimes they don’t.”
“What makes you think she’d tell me anything?”
“I spent an hour with her last Friday, and I came away with a good impression. She’s someone I’d like to know better.”
“I see.” This was no small praise from Caroline. “Okay, I’ll take it under advisement.”
Caroline rose. “Come on, let’s go get a burger. Killing people always makes me hungry, even paper ones. Can’t think why.”
“It’s because we’ve been taught to eat what we kill and paper tastes terrible.”
“You may be on to something there. Unless it’s dipped in chocolate, of course.”
“Of course.” The two girls gathered up their possessions and headed out.
* * *
Chapter 2
8
Day 12 – Tuesday morning
Coffee shop
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Ginny said. “I’m afraid I need your help. It’s about your sister, Lisa.”
Mary Jo Braden nodded, the look on her face suggesting this was not the first time she’d heard something of the sort.
Ginny took a breath and plunged in. “Lisa is under suspicion of murdering someone at work, and I’d like—very much—to be able to change that.”
“I know. She told me.”
“The police have been going over all the available evidence. So far, they can’t eliminate her.”
Mary Jo’s face settled into a grave concern. “Does what I say to you count as evidence?”
“It might. Do you know something that can help us?”
Mary Jo’s face clouded. “Maybe. You may have noticed, Lisa spends a lot of time on how she looks.”
Ginny nodded.
“That includes her nails and she’s always pretty vocal when she breaks one. They cost a lot at the salon where she goes.” Mary Jo was frowning heavily. “She broke one that night, at work.”
Ginny took a careful breath. “Are you sure it was that shift?”
Mary Jo nodded. “She came home Friday morning, after the police let her go, swearing at the nail, saying she’d caught it on something during the Code. She said she had to go have it replaced, and it was going to cost her a fortune, and she was really mad. She wouldn’t have said that if she was guilty, would she? She’d hide it from me, if she tore it while—you know. Right?”
Ginny nodded. “I would think so, yes.” She was thinking it wasn’t proof, but any murderer with half a brain would be worried about leaving evidence at the scene. If Lisa had broken a nail during the struggle with Phyllis, she might have picked it up and put it in her pocket, and, if she was worried Mary Jo might notice, she might have made up a story to cover the missing nail. So not finding the broken nail wouldn’t tell them a thing. It would only be useful if the police had found it.
“Okay. I’ll pass that on. Now can you tell me whether Lisa was mad at anyone in particular?”
“I don’t think so. She doesn’t confide in me. Not much anyway. And she wouldn’t tell me if she’d killed someone. Would she?” Mary Jo’s face paled as she said it, but she didn’t amend her comment.
Ginny shook her head. “I wouldn’t think so, but we’ve heard a rumor Lisa was jealous of the dead woman. Can you shed any light on that?”
Mary Jo’s eyebrows rose. “Why would she be jealous?”
“Because the man she wanted chose the dead woman instead of her.”
“Oh! You mean John Kyle.”
Ginny nodded.
“She was furious about that, for about six months, then she moved on.”
“One of the witnesses reports Lisa made threats.”
“What kind of threats?”
Ginny was deliberately vague. “Ways to get John back.”
Mary Jo shook her head. “She didn’t need to do that. She has someone else.”
“A steady?”
“Yeah. Two years now.”
Ginny blinked. “Do you know who it is?”
“Of course. Isaac Zimmerman.”
“The guy from Human Resources?”
Mary Jo nodded. “I introduced them. He and I met at a photography class. He’s very good, sells his work to the news media. Lisa picked me up one night from school and he was there.” She screwed up her face. “I got the idea it was serious. He’s been taking her places, nice places. She usually comes in smiling, when she comes in at all.”
“You two share a house?”
“An apartment, yeah.”
“Mary Jo, will you do something for me? Keep your eyes and ears open. I want something that will definitively prove Lisa isn’t our killer.”
Mary Jo nodded. “I want that, too. If I find out anything, I’ll let you know.”
* * *
Tuesday midmorning
Hillcrest Regional Human Resources Department
Ginny knocked on the open door and was invited in. “Mr. Zimmerman?” He rose to greet her.
“That’s me. How can I make your day better?” He gestured toward the guest chair, then sank into his own, leaning on his desk, smiling at her.
Tall, dark, and handsome. The curly black hair gleamed, almost aggressively healthy. The light blue eyes were set an attractive distance from the straight nose and balanced above a wide, generous mouth. He was clean-shaven and neatly dressed and Ginny could see the appeal. She smiled back.
“I’m hoping you can help me clear up a few things. I’m Ginny Forbes.” She saw his eyes kindle in recognition, but he did not interrupt. “I know you’ve been taking publicity photographs for the hospital, and I’m told you’re really good.”
His smile grew wider. “Thank you to whoever that was.”
“Mary Jo Braden.”
Both his eyes and his smile softened. “She’s a nice kid.”
“Yes, she is. She said you’re dating her sister, Lisa.”
He nodded, his smile suddenly wary.
“Lisa is under suspicion in the death of Phyllis Kyle.”
He nodded again, this time with nothing but alert interest in his face.
“I’m trying to prove Lisa could not have done it, and I was wondering if you had any photographs that could help me.”
He shook his head. “I turned over all my images from that night to the police. If they haven’t found anything, it’s probably not there.”
Ginny nodded. “But you might see something they missed. You have the eye.”
His lips twitched at the compliment. “I looked at them carefully, for the same reason, but didn’t spot anything. Sorry.”
Ginny’s brow furrowed. “Is there anything you can give me, anything at all that would clear her name?”
He studied her for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether to trust her, then spoke. “There is a very good reason why she could not have committed that murder.”
Ginny’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. “But you can’t tell me what it is.”
“No, it would be a breach of confidence.” He gestured around his office. “My position prohibits it.”
“I see.” Ginny rose and held out her hand. “Thank you for your time. If you find you can get past that barrier, whatever it is, and exonerate Lisa, please call me or Detective Tran. We would be very happy to be able to take her off the list.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
She took her leave and made her way to the parking garage. He knew something. Too bad she couldn’t pry it out of him, but there was someone else who probably knew what it was. Lisa. If she could be persuaded to tell.
* * *
Tuesday noon
Braden residence
Isaac Zimmerman crossed the atrium, rode the elevator up to the third floor, strode down the hall, and rapped on her door. He had called ahead, to make sure she was home and receiving visitors, then stopped for Asian takeout on the way over. Lisa opened the door to let him in.
“Hi, lover! Come for a little midday snuggle?”
He set the food down, took her in his arms and gave her a kiss. “That’s what I’ve come to talk about.”
“I was teasing.”
“I know.”
He helped her set the table, then watched as she tucked away a healthy portion of the noodles and chicken. Her appetite was still good. That was something. She added a bottle of wine to the meal.
“Are you sure you should drink that?”
She shrugged. “If it kills me, at least I had a good last meal.”
“Lisa, it’s time to tell.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want anyone to know.”
“I understand, but you have to. They need to know why you couldn’t have killed Phyllis Kyle.”
Lisa frowned. “I wish I had.”
“You don’t mean that.”
She met his eye, then sighed. “N
o, I don’t.” She poured herself another glass of wine then settled down on the sofa. He dropped down beside her, throwing his arm around her shoulders.
“It’s weird,” she said. “Sometimes I want to rip someone’s throat out with my bare hands. Like when I was watching her kids at the zoo. I wanted to be her so badly it hurt, actually hurt. Other times, it’s like nothing matters.”
He pulled her into his arms. “We’re going to get through this.”
She closed her eyes, letting him set the glass down on the table. “The odds are against us.”
“If we ignore it, you’ll die.”
“We all die, and this way would be quick.”
He gave her a hug. “Call me selfish, but I want more time with you.”
She looked up at him. “You mean that?”
“I do.”
Her brow furrowed. “The surgery may kill me.”
“I’m betting it won’t.”
“It could leave me with brain damage.”
“We’ve got the best neurosurgeon in the country right here in Dallas. Let’s call him and set this up.”
She shook her head. “Not until after Christmas. The literature says to wait until everyone is over the holidays before scheduling anything important.”
“If you have another attack, we’ll have to do the surgery on an emergency basis.”
“I know, but I’m willing to take the chance. It’s just a little while longer.”
He gave her a hug. “Then at least take care of yourself. No more emotional upsets.”
She sighed deeply. “You know I can’t control that, right?”
“Yes, but the doctor said if you stayed quiet and kept your blood pressure down, there might not be any more episodes. I can get him to prescribe Valium, if you need it.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“You should also think about taking some time off from work.”
“I’m going to have to do that after the surgery. Let me have a few more days of pretending to be normal.”
“I’ve been thinking about the future,” he said. “I’d like to go away, start fresh somewhere else.”
She looked at him. “Leave your hobby behind?”
“Not the photography.”
“That wasn’t what I meant.”
He took a deep breath. “Yes. I think it’s time to give that up. I’ve got a nice little nest egg and, if I can get a new job in a system where no one knows me, I think I can settle down to a normal life and still make ends meet.”
The Swick and the Dead Page 19