A Murderous Game (19 page)

Abby stared at her joined fingers.
Shock at the news of Dick's murder had begun to mix with guilt. She wished she
could take back all the nasty things she'd said. Undo all the times she'd
smugly killed him and smiled about it. Now that he was really dead, vengeance
didn't feel so good anymore.

"Mrs. Carpenter?"

Abby looked up. "I'm sorry,
what did you say your name was?"

"Simms. Detective Eugene
Simms, and my partner is Detective Baker. I asked if you can think of anyone
who might have wanted to see your husband dead?" The man observed her
closely, his intelligent looking brown eyes watchful, probing.

"I don't know. I mean, he,
Dick knew a lot of people. And, well, he
wasn't.
. .we
were divorced. It was just recently finalized." She glanced at Simms, his
scrutiny unnerving. He made her uncomfortable just sitting there, as if he were
waiting for something more. For what, she wondered? She didn't know anything.

Abby wrung her hands. An irrational
desire to scream built in her chest. She wanted to tell the detective there
were dozens of people who might have wanted to murder her ex. The line probably
stretched across the Ben
Franklin Bridge.
A line she'd stood in a few times. But of course she hadn't done it, nor could
she think of any one person in particular who stood out as a probable suspect.

"Relax, Mrs. Carpenter, we can
come back to that after you've had a chance to think on it." Simms sounded
solicitous. "Maybe it would be easier if we started with some of his
friends. Is there anyone he was close to, other than family members?"

"Harold Billings," she
said, giving him the first and only name to pop into her head. "Dick had a
number of acquaintances but was probably closer to Harold than anyone."

Rachael, who had been at the
townhouse when the police showed up that evening, took Abby's hand and held it,
as if to say,
I'm right here with you, honey
. Abby looked at her and
smiled, glad to have someone who cared at her side.

Simms wrote the name on his tablet
and then looked at her again, raising an expectant brow.

"They knew each other since
college," she said in response to his silent urging. "They were
roommates at University
of Penn and have been
friends since, about ten years. He was the best man at our wedding."

"Would your husband have told
Mr. Billings if he were in any kind of trouble?"

"I don't know. They spent a
lot of time together, but I really can't say if they confided in each other or
just hung out." She couldn't imagine Dick and Harold sitting around
sharing their personal problems, but then there had been a lot about her
ex-husband she hadn't known.

"Are you and Mr.
Billings
good friends as well?"

Abby cleared her throat. "We
work for the same marketing firm."

Simms looked at her, his tongue
working the inside of his cheek. "Did you help him get a position there or
did he help you?"

"Neither. Not directly anyway.
Shortly after I went to work for the company, I mentioned to Dick that Mr.
Norwell—he owns the firm—was looking to hire another account manager. Dick told
Harold and he applied for the job."

"Umm, I see."

Abby wasn't sure if he did. She
didn't see how Billings
working for the same firm or whether he was her friend had anything to do with
Dick's murder, though, so she saw no reason to say more.

"I'll want to talk to Mr.
Billings and possibly some of your other coworkers. I hope you don't
mind."

By Monday they would have all heard
or read about Dick's murder. It wasn't every day a senator's son was killed,
and the local press would be all over it. Maybe the press wouldn't bring her
name into things since she and Dick had been divorced. She hoped to God that
would be the case. She didn't know if she could stand being connected with
another scandal.

"Of course not," she
said, knowing he didn't need her permission. "Perhaps Harold will be able
to tell you something or know some other people Dick was friendly with who can
help. I doubt any of my other coworkers will know anything, though."

"You never know," Simms
said. "Sometimes what seems inconsequential leads to an important piece of
information."

The other detective, Baker, had
been standing by the side of the couch watching her. He seemed restless. She
wished he'd sit down and stop frowning at her.

"Let's try this again,"
the man said abruptly. "You said your husband knew a lot of people. Surely
you can think of at least one or two who didn't get along with him."

Abby stared at Baker a moment,
taken back by his accusatory tone. There was no reason for him to be so rude
when she was trying to be helpful.
Go away
, she thought, put off by his
abrasive manner.

"Come on, Mrs.
Carpenter," he said. "You were married to the man. Do you expect us
to believe you can't name a single person who might have held something against
him?"

"Stop trying to bait
her." Rachael let go of Abby's hand and jumped up to face the younger
detective. "You want her to make you a list of people who might have had
it in for Dick?" She snorted as if he were an idiot. "It would take
all night. The guy was a bastard."

Abby gasped. She shot Rachael a
warning with her eyes, then looked at the two detectives for a reaction.
Rachael threw her arms up in the air. "Well, it's true. Please forgive me
if that sounds insensitive, but when you start talking to other people, it
won't be the last time you hear it."

The doorbell rang, followed by an
insistent knocking. Simms looked at Abby and raised his brows. "Are you
expecting someone?"

"No." She started to get
up, but Rachael put a hand on her shoulder.

"I'll see who it is. You talk
to the good detectives." She narrowed her eyes at Baker as if issuing a
silent warning, then looked at Simms and smirked. "Why don't you make him
heel?" she said, then went to answer the door.

"I'm glad you're here,"
Abby heard Rachael say from behind her. "The cops got here about twenty
minutes ago, and they're starting to go for her throat."

Abby glanced over her shoulder.
Gage was striding toward her with long, angry strides. His eyes swept over the
detectives with a fierceness that startled her.

"Abby." He went down in
front of her, balancing on one knee, and took her hands. The dangerous predator
vanished as he searched her face, his fingers caressing hers gently.

"Dick was murdered," she
said, surprised by her lack of emotion. She'd been married to the man.
Shouldn't she feel some loss or pain? She felt numb more than anything. She was
sorry, yes, mostly because she'd imagined killing him and now he was dead. That
was guilt, though, not an honest sense of loss. The reality made her feel even
more guilty that she couldn't dredge up something more. 

"Someone shot him…at his
townhouse." She chewed the corner of her lip.

He nodded. His eyes were full of
concern. "I know. The press has already gotten hold of it and made it this
evening's top news story. I tried to call but your line was busy." He
stood up and glanced at Simms, his expression hardening. "You don't have
to talk to them tonight if you don't feel like it," he said, still holding
her hand.

"It's okay." She was glad
he'd come. Whatever the reason, his presence grounded her. "They're just
doing their job. Will you stay until they're through, though? I feel better
with you here." Something stirred in the pewter depths regarding her that
made her heart race.

"I'll stay." He held her
gaze a moment longer before angling away from the detectives and addressing
Rachael. "I think Abby could use something to take the edge off." He
shot a glance toward the kitchen. "Can you show me where she keeps
things?"

"Sure, I think I could use
something myself." Just before the two of them entered the kitchen,
Rachael turned. "Would either of the good detectives like a drink? I'd be
happy to fix you something." She smiled sweetly.
"Perhaps
a
gin and toxic
."

One corner of Simms's mouth lifted
in wry amusement. "Thanks for the hospitality, but I'm afraid we'll have
to pass."

"Oh, how silly of me,"
Rachael effected her best drawl, "duty and all that.
Pity."

Abby watched Gage follow her friend
out of the room. He was up to something. It had nothing to do with fixing them
all a drink, either, even if she could use one.

She pushed her hands through her
hair, taking a moment to rub her temples before directing her attention back to
the detectives. "Don't mind Rachael." She smiled in spite of the
apology. "She's just being protective. She doesn't mean anything by
it."

"Oh, I'm sure she does."
There was a flash of humor in Simms's eyes, but it left as quickly as it came.
He inclined his head toward the kitchen. "Who's the guy?"

A simple question, so why did it
make her pulse race?
"Gage Faraday."
Abby
tried to sound matter of fact. "He's one of my business clients."

Simms raised a dubious looking
brow. "I see."

Those two words again. And again
Abby had the distinct feeling he saw something other than she intended.

The detective made a few more
notes. She was tempted to ask what he was writing but held back, unsure why and
positive he wouldn't tell her anyway.

Baker paced, looking toward the
door Gage and Rachael had disappeared beyond as if he suspected they were doing
something illegal in the kitchen. What was wrong with the man? Abby didn't
think she liked Baker much. Simms she couldn't get a good enough read on to
decide.

"How long have you been
working for Mr. Faraday?" Simms asked.

"He hired our firm a little
over a month ago. Gage's company is responsible for the new development going
in along the river."

"I read about it. Wasn't your
husband a developer as well?"

"Yes." Why did he keep
looking at her like that? She stretched her neck.

Under normal circumstances she'd
consider Simms an extremely handsome man. He was similar in size and build to
Gage. Where Gage's hair was almost black, though, Simms's was dark blond shot
through with natural highlights. Whereas Gage's eyes were grey, Simms's were
brown, so dark to be almost black, and unnervingly probing.

Abby clasped her hands in her lap.
"Dick bid on the project, but the city awarded it to GFI. That's Mr.
Faraday's company." Why had she switched to calling him by his last name?
Maybe because those darker than night eyes brought to mind a hunter, and
alarmingly, she had begun to feel a little bit like the hunted. It had to be
her imagination, or perhaps her guilt. It served her right for playing her
little game with so much relish.

"Interesting." he made
another note. "So you took a job working for the competition."

"I work for whatever client my
firm assigns me," she informed him, wondering at the direction of his
questioning. "And I'm not sure what that has to do with Dick's
murder."

"It's just an
observation." He exchanged glances with his partner. "Should we
expect any more of your clients to show up tonight to check on your
welfare?"

Abby opened her mouth and stared
back at him, drawing a blank at his question.

"Or is there some other reason
Mr. Faraday felt compelled to rush to your side when he heard about your
husband's death?"

~~~

"I came because Abby and I are
friends." Gage answered the detective himself as he came back into the
living room. He was barely able to contain his anger at their leading
questions.

He walked to the couch, a drink in
each hand. "It isn't unusual, detective, for people who work together to
form friendships." He sat down next to Abby and handed her one of the
drinks. "Sip it," he said. "It's strong."

Simms slanted him a glance,
quirking his lip in a way that annoyed Gage.

"So you and the decedent's
wife are more than business associates?" the detective asked.

"Ex-wife," Gage clipped
off, "and my relationship with her is none of your damn business. It has
nothing to do with your investigation."

Simms gave him an assessing glance.
"Then you shouldn't mind my questions."

"Wrong. Aside from being
leading and irrelevant, they're making her uncomfortable. You don't have a
warrant, and she's not on trial here. So stop making her feel like it."

"Nothing is irrelevant in a
murder investigation." The detective glanced at his notes. "And I
didn't realize your friendship with each other was an uncomfortable
subject." His gaze slid from Gage to Abby and back again. "Was it a
sore spot with the deceased as well?"

"Back off," Gage warned.
The muscle in his jaw flexed as he studied Simms. The detective returned his
appraisal in unspoken challenge, and Gage recognized a formidable opponent in
the other man. It didn't matter. He'd do whatever he had to in order to protect
Abby.

Rachael sank into one of the club
chairs with a chuckle. Gage glanced at her. She dipped a finger into her drink
then brought it to her lips and licked it.

"Play nice,
boys."
She looked from him to Simms over the rim of her glass.
"It'd be a shame to get blood all over the carpet."

"
Rach
,"
Abby said, sounding embarrassed. She touched Gage's hand. His gaze snapped to
hers.

"I don't think Detective Simms
meant to be offensive. It's not like he's accusing me of murdering Dick."

Gage wanted to groan. They might
not have accused her, but he had no doubt she'd be their primary suspect, at
least in the beginning. Aside from the fact spouses were always considered
suspects, Carpenter's scandalous affairs and their recent divorce only
increased the likelihood her name would be at the top of their list. She
probably didn't realize the vulnerable position she was in. And that was
dangerous.