* * *
Catherine Bell was still managing to hold court at a party that had absolutely nothing to do with her. She had to have been in her late sixties or early seventies, her hair was a shocking white, and she was sitting in a chair someone must have carried over for her, wearing tailored pants and a silver silk top that emphasized her willowy frame. To Cooper she looked as intimidating as ever.
“This is the woman you think took a hoe to Hardwick?” Park murmured beside him where they watched her talk about how proud they all were of Eliza and encourage the crowd groveling at her feet to come to the event tomorrow, it “truly will be inspiring.”
Park shook his head. “She doesn’t look like she could hoe a weed.”
“It was twenty-five years ago—she would have been in her prime. Besides, it doesn’t take a lot of strength to kill someone like that if you get the angle right. Once to knock him down, right here at the temple. Finish the job when he’s stunned on the grass and then you’ve got gravity working for you.” Cooper demonstrated a quick brutal swinging motion toward his feet. “Boom. Easy. What?”
Park was looking at him with distaste. “Remind me not get on your bad side.”
Cooper crossed his arms. “Oh, so you think I have a bad side?”
Park snorted.
“Anyway, she would have been stronger then, and poetically I doubt she’d have seen Hardwick as anything more than a troublesome weed. She’s always had a certain understanding of who’s worth what.”
“With herself firmly at the top, I assume.”
“Of course. The marina was her family’s business, actually. She only changed the name after she was married, god knows why. It’s made her very important in town. Well, wealthy and well-known, anyway, which are the building blocks for power if not importance. I think that’s why she and Robert have been grooming Eliza for politics since she was born.”
Park raised an eyebrow.
“It’s like Catherine’s version of a having a title in the family. She’d get her hand in all the behind-the-scenes action. Maybe even swing a few laws the marina’s way. A scandal like embezzlement would have completely derailed those plans.”
“It sounds like you may have some preexisting...opinions about Mrs. Bell.” Park looked extremely skeptical, almost amused. “It also sounds like a soap I watched once.”
“If by preexisting you mean opinions formed from my previous interactions with her, say around the time of the crime in question, then yeah, you bet I do.” Cooper paused. “Of course, Robert Bell would have been capable of killing Hardwick then, too. And he’s maybe just as Machiavellian as his wife,” he murmured, thinking.
He glanced at Park, who was shaking his head. “Look, I see why you’re being defensive. The Bells remind you of your own family. The ruling class of Florence.” Park started to protest, but Cooper continued, “I’m not saying money leads by necessity to evil. Your relatives are probably perfectly nice, but I know these people and I think Catherine at least would absolutely kill to protect her own interests.”
“I’m not being defensive,” Park said with a touch of impatience. “And just so you know before you meet them, very few of my relatives are perfectly nice, actually. I just think it would be irresponsible not to point out that your feelings about the Bells may be clouded by your relationship with the youngest, dickiest one.”
Cooper barely even noticed that Park was still harping on there being a relationship with Gabriel. His attention had snagged on something else. “What do you mean, meet them? Did something happen?” He lowered his voice. “Something you think the BSI is going to get involved with?”
Though Park’s family had been cleared of any wrongdoing during his and Cooper’s first investigation together, it had become quite clear that as an old, large, and powerful pack, they considered themselves out of the law’s reach. Park didn’t talk about it much, but Cooper imagined he would find it difficult to choose sides if it ever came down to it, pack or not. Is that what Stephen had started to say?
“What? No. Nothing like that. I just meant—” Park broke off, looking curiously flustered. “I didn’t mean meet them under a professional capacity, but, you know.”
Cooper shook his head, not getting it.
“Well, I’m here with your family now,” Park said.
Cooper laughed without humor. “Yeah, and I apologized for that already, right? If I didn’t have such an unusually competitive waitlist of biggest regrets, that fact would make top five. Can I just say for the record now, if I ever do run into any blood relatives of yours, for whatever reason, I hope to god there’s significantly less murder.”
“Right. Okay. Well, no promises.” Park looked distracted. “So are we going to interrogate this devil incarnate in orthopedics or not?”
Cooper frowned, puzzled at his abruptness. Was Park still not feeling well? He waited, but no explanation was forthcoming. “Let me take the lead here, okay? She hates me enough that she’ll want to get under my skin, and we might be able to use that to get her to talk more.”
Park shrugged, still not looking directly at him. “It’s your show.”
As they approached, Catherine caught Cooper’s eye and murmured something quietly to her hangers-on, who tittered and scattered as good courtiers do.
“I heard you were in my house today,” she said once he was in earshot. That was it. No greeting or normal acknowledgment of recognition. Just an observation delivered without ornament. That was Catherine’s way. Never aggressive or outwardly hateful, she would never have been able to acquire the social acclaim she had if she was, but she did make the absence of courtesy into a sort of art. The art of war.
“Yeah, I was hoping to talk to you and your son.”
“I can’t imagine what you and I might talk about. And”—she looked confused—“didn’t you, hmm, have your chance with Gabriel?”
Confused like a shark.
“Not him. Jacob. I wanted to talk to him about his relationship with Rose. Rose Daugherty.”
Her pale blue eyes showed no sign of recognition, not even a flicker, but he wouldn’t bet against her in a staring competition with a marble statue.
“You remember Rose, of course,” Cooper continued. “She lived across the field from you, competed in your favorite pageant, and broke into your house to find evidence that you too had embezzled funds from Valley Girl.”
Catherine folded her hands in her lap carefully. “Of course I remember Rose. A very troubled young woman, I’m sorry to say. But she didn’t break into my home. And before you continue, please know that I take slander of the dead”—she paused—“and the living, very seriously.”
“It’s not slander if it’s true. She was seen entering your home via the storm cellar. Not the usual guest entrance, is it?” He paused. “Unless you’re saying she was there to see Jacob. In which case, yes, I am still hoping to speak to him about their relationship. Is he here? Gabe did promise me he would be.” Cooper looked around the room theatrically.
Catherine’s voice was slightly steelier now. “Jacob is home attending to his father.”
Cooper frowned at that. Why would Gabriel have lied? Or was Jacob again avoiding seeing him? Why?
“Regardless, there’s nothing to talk about. There was no relationship between him and that...girl.”
“He’s home, you said? I’ll have to stop by later to confirm that.”
She tilted her head. “I hadn’t realized you’d decided to make your father proud after all and join the sheriff’s department. He must be very happy.” She matched Cooper’s pronounced scan of the room. “Where is he now? I know I saw him speaking to those FBI agents before, but that was almost an hour ago.”
Cooper viciously bit the inside of his mouth and beat back the ashamed and nervous little boy she somehow knew still lived inside him. He was grown now. He had faced down worse threats th
an Catherine Bell. In theory.
“I know Rose was sneaking into your house to look for evidence of embezzlement,” he said flatly. “That’s not a question, it’s a fact, and I think it’s a fact you’re familiar with. Maybe because you caught her in the act. Maybe because you grew suspicious on your own. Why else did you think she signed up for the Valley Girl pageant? A sudden yen for tiaras?”
“I had hoped that she was interested in bettering herself, in turning a new page. A hope that was lost when she overdosed on methamphetamines in the middle of the competition. Overdosed,” Catherine repeated slowly. “Truly tragic, but not murder. So I can’t imagine why you’re delivering these questions as threats.”
“No one’s threatening you, Mrs. Bell. I’m just asking why Hardwick approached you with the evidence Rose found before her death rather than go straight to the police. Was he hoping for a payout to keep quiet? Or did he just want to see your face?”
She stood shakily, her expression alien, twisted into pity, like she was looking down at a small child who was humiliating himself. She was a tall woman. Five-eight or-nine, by Cooper’s guess, and her heels put her within a couple inches of his eye level, but not above it. Still, Cooper had a feeling Catherine could look down on him from hell.
“I can see why you’d like to think so,” she said, voice dripping with sympathy. “It must be hard to have already lost your mother and now your father, too. I would also like to make up a silly story to comfort myself. But that’s all it is. A story. Alex Hardwick never approached me with evidence because there was no evidence to find. This is all a fiction that’s gotten out of hand.”
“She was seen sneaking into your house—”
“To see me.”
Cooper turned, startled by the interruption. A woman had approached. She was an inch or so shorter than Catherine and had relaxed honey-blond hair, a friendly if unremarkable face, and the same beautiful brown eyes as her brother.
“Eliza, what are you talking about?” Catherine snapped. The presence of her daughter seemed to throw her more than anything else that had happened so far.
“Rose was sneaking into our house to see me.”
Cooper glanced at Park and raised his eyebrows. “Why would she do that?”
“We were friends.” She held out her hand to Park. “Hello, I don’t believe we’ve met. Eliza Bell.”
“Oliver Park. I work with Cooper.”
“Of course. Cooper, good to see you again.” She shook his hand, too. Her skin was strikingly soft and her grip gentle. Cooper had to resist the urge to cradle it in both his hands like some kind of creepy old man. “Oliver Park. I don’t suppose you’re a relation of Delia Park in DC?”
Park tilted his head slightly. “My cousin,” he acknowledged.
“I didn’t know you had family in the city,” Cooper said, surprised and momentarily distracted.
“Why would you? She hasn’t broken the law,” Park said coolly, without looking at him. Cooper frowned.
“I would be very surprised to hear if she did,” Eliza said, and even her laugh was soft and soothing. Cooper had no idea where she’d gotten all these pleasant traits from, but he could see how she’d done so well for herself in government. There was something very comforting about her presence. “I had the pleasure of meeting Delia Park several times at charity events when I was working in the urban planning department. She’s one of the largest patrons of housing development,” Eliza was explaining to her mother.
“Really?” Catherine reevaluated Park carefully, then smiled, her whole demeanor changing when she saw what she was looking for: old money, breeding, power. “Are you in town long, Mr. Park?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Though if you have the chance, I hope you come by the marina tomorrow. My daughter is having a little campaign event I think you would enjoy. Do you like live music? There will be wonderful bands there and food and speeches—”
“Mom, please. He doesn’t live here. He can’t vote for me.” Eliza offered them a sympathetic look. “It’s like running for high school class president all over again. My mother is so involved she puts my campaign manager to shame.”
“I’m sorry, is it wrong to be proud of your children? He may not vote for you, but he can listen to your wonderful speech.”
And write a wonderful check, Cooper had no doubt. “Eliza, if you don’t mind, you said before that you were friends with Rose Daugherty and that it was you she was sneaking into the house to see.”
“That’s right. We were very close.”
Why was this the first time he was hearing of it? Why was it a secret? Why did it involve the basement? Cooper knew why he and Gabe’s “friendship” was subterranean. But was Eliza saying she and Rose were close romantically? Sexually? Eliza didn’t look like she felt the need to clarify. Was that because of the people around them? Or did it really not cross her mind that many would hear that and consider a non-platonic relationship?
Park—back to his charming interrogator persona, bless him—finally said in a genial but perplexed voice, “I’m sorry, Ms. Bell. I’m a little confused. Is it normal around here to have your friends enter through the storm cellar?” Well, okay, maybe he wasn’t quite back to full charming status.
Eliza smiled sadly. “We didn’t want people to know we were friends. We’d only started hanging out when she signed up for the pageant. She was new to that world, so I’d give her tips on how to speak, what to expect, and what to wear. I even gave her some clothes and stuff from when I competed. She didn’t want people to think she was trying for favoritism or had an unfair advantage.”
“As it would have been,” Catherine said stiffly before Cooper could get a question in. “But I don’t see why you would hide this from me.”
“Sometimes you could be a bit judgmental, Mom.”
Catherine tossed her hair behind her shoulder, irritated.
Eliza took a deep, steadying breath and explained, “Rose was going through a difficult time, I’m sure you know about that. She was struggling a lot with drugs. Methamphetamines, specifically. We talked about it almost every day. I was terribly naïve then. I thought I could be enough to help her get clean. I was afraid if I told my mother she wouldn’t approve and would stop me from seeing Rose. I wish I had told her now. I know an addict needs much more of a support system than one teenage girl.” She reached up to play with the delicate gold chain at her neck, a comforting gesture. “I’m responsible for Rose’s death.”
“Darling, no.” Catherine touched her daughter’s arm. “There wasn’t anything you could have done.”
“I could have said something. Gotten her real help. I saw her getting worse, struggling more, using more. But I never imagined she would die. It’s so hard to see mortality at that age.” She looked back at Cooper, and now he could see a little of her mother in her. That stony, unforgiving determination shining through eyes so like Gabriel’s. “I regret what happened every day.”
Her words hung in the air, the ringing truth in them impossible to deny. Then the real woman was gone and the politician was back. “That’s why one of the initiatives I have as mayor of Jagger Valley is to implement earlier substance abuse prevention education at the middle school level.”
Before either of the Bells could ask Park to estimate how much he cared about children’s health in a dollar amount, Cooper asked, “Did Rose ever mention why she signed up for Valley Girl to begin with? From what you’ve been saying about her, it doesn’t really sound like something she’d have been interested in taking on at that time in her life.”
“Rose told me about that journalist, if that’s what you mean. Poor Mr. Hardwick. I know he wanted her to look into the possibility that my family was involved in the embezzlement.” She glanced at her mother apologetically. “After we got close, Rose admitted to me that’s why she first signed up.”
/> Catherine clicked her teeth.
“But I told her there was no embezzlement and she trusted me. She actually cared about the competition by then. We talked about her getting off the meth and using the prize money to go to college and get a fresh start.” Eliza took a shaky breath. “She really, genuinely wanted to win.”
Maybe, Cooper thought. Or...
He had a vague idea from late-night reality TV bingeing that pageants were expensive to compete in. If Hardwick was as obsessed with digging into the embezzlement scandal as it seemed, Cooper could see him possibly funding Rose’s wardrobe. But maintaining a meth addiction was expensive, too. If she was using as much as Eliza made it sound, maybe Rose had kept stringing Hardwick along even after Eliza told her there was nothing to uncover in order to use her rhinestone fund for crystal.
But would she have really just taken Eliza’s word for it?
Maybe she was onto something in the embezzling investigation after all, and that’s why she was sticking around.
“So she just admitted to you that she’d lied to you and been spying on your family and you thought it was okay? No big deal?” Park asked. “That would not have flown in my family.”
“I was hurt,” Eliza said slowly. “Of course I was hurt. I was a teenager; everything was painful then. But she was my best friend and”—she smiled—“like I said, I was a teenager. I couldn’t imagine life without her.”
Cooper asked, “How do you know Rose believed that there was no embezzlement?”
“Perhaps she was smart enough to recognize the truth,” Catherine said, the unlike you hung in the air between them.
Eliza glanced at her mother with slight, almost fond disapproval, then gave Cooper an apologetic look. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Rose. We’ll give you whatever files you want. Look at my family’s bank statements from that time, look at our phone records. Whatever you need to clear up once and for all that there was no embezzlement on our part, it’s yours.”
“That’s very generous of you.”
The Wolf at Bay (Big Bad Wolf) Page 20