Arouse Suspicion (9 page)

"Your husband sells used cars day in and day out. Maybe he just wanted some excitement in his life," Nick said.

Mrs. Warner's double chin quivered again. "I-I've never refused him."

Danni wanted to bury her face in her hands. She could live without knowing any more sexual exploits of Willy and his wonder wurst.

"When was the last time you tried something different? Have you ever told him
your
fantasies?" Nick asked.

Feathers and handcuffs flitted through Danni's mind, jolting her libido. She tried to concentrate on her exasperation at Nick for playing sex counselor, but the pictures his question conjured—especially when he was starring in her fantasy—made it nearly impossible to focus.

Mrs. Warner's gaze turned inward even as her plump cheeks reddened. "But I thought Willy loved me."

"I'm certain he does." Nick spoke with so much certainty that Danni almost believed him. "Do you still love your husband?"

Mrs. Warner glanced at the pictures in her hands, and a tear rolled down her face. "After seeing these, I shouldn't, but I just can't help myself. Yes, I love him, but how can I compete with
that?"
She pointed at a picture of the spread-eagled Bambi.

"You don't have to compete. You're married to him. Your husband has clearly made a serious error in judgment, but that doesn't have to mean your marriage is over."

Mrs. Warner raised moisture-filled eyes. "What can I do?"

Danni cleared her throat.

He ignored her.

What else is new?

"Buy something sexy," Nick replied. "When your husband comes home from work, pretend it's your first time together, and give him an evening he won't forget."

His voice had dropped to a low, seductive tone that sent a shiver down Danni's spine, but this wasn't about him or her. And he had no right sticking up for some two-timing twit.

"He
cheated
on you, Mrs. Warner," she reminded her client. "He's the one who should be making it up to
you.
Five minutes ago, you were ready to string him up by a sensitive part of his anatomy."

"We've been together for over half my life. I have to try," Mrs. Warner said.

Danni wanted to scream in frustration. Nobody should have to put up with being treated like pond scum. She sighed. "It's up to you, Mrs. Warner. I did what you hired me to do."

Mrs. Warner stuffed the incriminating pictures back in the brown envelope and stood. She lifted her chin. "Thank you, Ms. Hawkins. At least I know what I'm up against now." She turned to Nick, and her stern expression softened. "And thank you for your advice, Mr. Sirocco."

"My pleasure, Mrs. Warner." Nick shook her plump hand. "I hope you're able to work things out."

"Me, too," she said wistfully.

Danni escorted her client out, then returned and closed the door behind her. She propped her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. "What the hell was that about?"

Nick frowned. "What?"

"Do you see a sign anywhere—
anywhere
—in this office that says Marriage Counselor?"

He crossed his arms. "She doesn't want a divorce."

Danni gave herself a shake, wondering if she'd heard him correctly. "And you know this how? Did she tell you?" She feigned surprise. "But how could she have? I was with you the entire time."

"She's been married to the guy for over thirty years. She doesn't want to throw that away without a fight, and I don't blame her."

"Dammit, Nick, when people break their marriage vows, they don't deserve forgiveness. They'll never change."

Nick studied her, and Danni had the insane urge to escape his keen gaze. What was he seeing?

"Is that what happened with your mother?" he asked, his tone and expression surprisingly gentle.

The air gushed from Danni's lungs, and her heart raced. The room dipped in and out of focus, until all she could see was the past.

"Go to your room, Danielle," Daddy ordered.

Six-year-old Danni pouted, but when Mommy glared at her, she skipped out of the living room and up the stairs. Only she didn't go to her room. She sat at the top of the stairs, where her mommy and daddy couldn't see her. But Danni could hear them.

"So who were you sleeping with this time, Glenda?"

Daddy's voice boomed, and Danni shrank back but couldn't stop listening.

"As if you care. You'd rather work eighteen hours a day than come home and take responsibility for your own family." Mommy sounded mad.

"If I didn't have that job you hate so much, you wouldn't be able to afford your fancy clothes and fancy fingernails."

Danni stuck her thumb in her mouth, not caring that she was a big girl now and wasn't supposed to do that anymore. She had never heard Daddy and Mommy yell at each other before, and Danni was scared.

"If you weren't so tired every night, I wouldn't have to go out and find someone who treats me like a woman."

"How many men have you been with?"

"Ten or twelve. Who keeps count?"

Danni heard a funny sound, like when Mommy would slap her face, but a lot louder.

"I bet you feel like a real man now, don't you?" Mommy said, her voice shaking.

"Goddammit! I've put up with more than any other man would have. Get out!"

A tiny sob made it up Danni's throat, but the thumb in her mouth prevented it from escaping. There was the sound of the door opening and slamming, then silence.

Scary silence.

Danni rolled onto her side and curled into a tight ball.

"Danni, did you hear me?"

She shook herself free of the vivid flashback and found Nick's hands on her arms, his worried face close to hers. "Wh-what?"

"Are you all right? You're white as a sheet," Nick said.

Danni's mouth felt like ashes, and her head pounded. "I'm fine. I'm just getting a headache." It wasn't exactly a lie. It just wasn't the entire truth.

It was clear by the clenching of his jaw that Nick didn't believe her, but he didn't press.

Danni moved around him to her desk and sat down, grateful that her trembling legs didn't have to support her any longer. She'd carried only vague memories of the night her mother had left.

What had triggered that repressed memory?

It must've been a combination of the adultery case and Nick's quiet question. At some level, Danni had known her mother had been unfaithful, which probably accounted for her wariness of commitments. But she never knew her father had kicked her mother out of the house. She'd always believed her mother had simply abandoned them.

"Is there anything else you need to do here?" Nick asked.

She'd almost forgotten he was in the room. "I-I don't think so. I'll check with Cathy to be sure, though." Instead of walking out to the receptionist's desk, she picked up her phone and punched the intercom. "When is my next appointment, Cathy?"

"Nothing until Monday at ten a.m.," the receptionist replied. "Is Mrs. Warner's case closed?"

"Yes. Go ahead and send her the final bill." She placed the phone back in its cradle, feeling somewhat calmer. She glanced at Nick, who'd sat down in the chair Mrs. Warner had occupied. "Nothing until Monday."

"That gives us five days to concentrate on Paddy's and Matt Arbor's deaths."

Danni swallowed the acid in her throat and focused on Nick's words. "We should talk to Matt's parents."

"His mother. From what he told me, his mom never married his father. In fact, I don't think he even knew who he was."

Danni wasn't surprised. She pushed herself upright and was relieved when her knees didn't buckle, although her head was throbbing. "Let's go talk to her now. Maybe she can tell us who he hung out with."

"Maybe we should go back to the house so you can lie down." He paused. "You've had a rough week."

She glared at him, irrational anger catching her off guard. "I've survived over twenty years without a mother. I don't need one now."

Nick held up his hands, palms out. "I was only trying to help."

"Don't."

She scowled at the straightened paper clips on her desk and swept them into the wastebasket impatiently. After ensuring her desk drawers were locked, she led the way out of her office. She stopped by Cathy's desk. "Do you have Matt Arbor's address?"

"I can get it." The administrative assistant typed in some commands on her computer. She scribbled an address on a Post-It note and handed it to Danni. "What're you going to do?"

"Talk to his mother."

Cathy's pixie face was somber. "He had an appointment with Beth the day before he died."

"What was it about?" Nick asked.

With unusual seriousness, Cathy answered, "He wanted to cut a deal."

"Beth told me," Danni said. "Do you know if he went into any details?"

"I don't think so, but you should probably talk to Beth."

Danni pointed at her closed door. "Does she have a client?"

Cathy nodded apologetically. "It's going to be at least an hour, but you can wait if you want."

Danni caught Nick's eye, but he was strangely noncommittal. She shrugged and said to Cathy, "We'll talk to her tomorrow. When is she free?"

"In the morning. Her first appointment is at eleven."

"Pencil me in for ten." Danni rubbed her brow, hoping that she wasn't getting one of her rare migraines. "We're going to talk to Matt's mother."

She was aware of a pair of identical worried glances but didn't acknowledge them. Although she was accustomed to Cathy's mother-henning, she wasn't used to having anyone else—especially this man—care about her well-being.

"It can wait until tomorrow," Nick said.

She shook her head, then realized what a dumb move that was as the ache behind her eyes increased. With any luck, the migraine would hold off a few hours, until she'd interviewed Ms. Arbor, as well as Levin and Tygard at the station.

After that, she could collapse for the night and her usual nightmare would give her a respite.

Chapter Eight

Nick followed Danni into an apartment building that had graffiti liberally splashed across its tired brick facade. The grease-stained walls and crumbling plaster in the entrance, as well as the smell of stale cigarettes, dirty diapers, and rotting garbage, reminded him too much of the place where he'd grown up. He'd worked hard to shed his past, but it still lurked within him, eager to emerge when waylaid by such powerful sensory triggers.

"Cher Arbor, 1C," Danni said, her finger on the decrepit line of mailboxes. "I wonder if her parents had a Sonny and Cher fixation."

Nick, too caught up in his past miseries to appreciate Danni's dry humor, shrugged impatiently. He just wanted to get this over with.

Danni led the way down the reeking hall, and Nick was careful not to brush against the yellowing walls. At 1C, Danni stopped and knocked. A baby's wailing and a man's guttural expletive drifted from another apartment, and Nick gnashed his teeth as deja vu swept through him.

"Knock again," Nick said between thinned lips.

Danni pounded harder. "Ms. Arbor, are you in there?"

After another minute, there was a scuffing on the other side. Two locks clicked, and the door cracked open with a chain still offering a semblance of security.

A pale blue eye surrounded by bloodshot white peered at them through the slit. "What d'ya want?"

"I'm Danni Hawkins, a private investigator." She held up her ID. "I'd like to ask you some questions about your son Matt."

"He's dead." Her tone was as lifeless as her eye.

"Yes, we know, that's why we're here. His lawyer, Beth Marshal, asked me to look into his death."

The eye blinked, then shifted to Nick. "Who's he?"

"Nick Sirocco," he answered.

She closed the door and unlatched the chain, then allowed Danni and Nick to enter. Cher Arbor tightened the sash around her faded pink robe, then pushed her flyaway hair out of her face.

"Mattie mentioned you," she said to Nick. "Said you used to be just like him but got out of the neighborhood and done good."

Her admiration made him self-conscious, but he managed a smile. "That's right. I grew up about five blocks from here. The building's condemned now."

"Just like this place'll be in a few years," Ms. Arbor said grimly.

He glanced around the tiny apartment that had a water-stained ceiling and cracked paint on the walls. The furniture was at least thirty years old, but it appeared Ms. Arbor tried to clean it once in a while. Unlike his mother, who never did anything more strenuous than lie on her back. He brought his attention back to the pitifully thin woman.

"How'd you get out?" Ms. Arbor asked curiously.

"The army."

Ms. Arbor stared at something over Nick's shoulder. "That's what Mattie was planning on doing—joining the army. See the world. It had to be better than this." She motioned to her surroundings, her loathing evident.

"I'm sorry about your son, Ms. Arbor," Danni said softly. "My father thought a lot of him."

"Officer Hawkins—he was your father?"

"That's right."

Ms. Arbor clasped Danni's hand. "He was a good man, tried to help kids like my Mattie make a better life for themselves. You must've been proud."

Danni shifted from one foot to the other, her body language screaming her discomfort. Nick opened his mouth to relieve her of answering, but she beat him to it.

"I'm finding out how good a man he was," she confessed quietly.

Ms. Arbor stared at her a moment, then seemed to shake herself. "Sit down. Would you like some coffee? I think I have some soda, too. Mattie used to drink it."

"No, that's all right. We're fine," Danni assured as she perched on the sagging sofa. "We don't want to take a lot of your time, but we have some questions we'd like to ask."

Only when Ms. Arbor lowered herself to a mustard-yellow vinyl chair across from the couch did Nick sit down at the opposite end of the sofa from Danni. A spring pressed into his left buttock, and he repositioned slowly, not wanting to embarrass their hostess.

Ms. Arbor reached for a pack of generic cigarettes, tugged one out, and lit it. She blew the smoke away from Nick and Danni. "I don't know what I can tell you. I didn't see him that much. I work the night shift at Landy's Truck Stop. As soon as Mattie got home, I usually had to leave for work. And when he left in the morning, I was asleep." Her voice was raspy, either from grief or her cigarette habit.

"What time did he usually get home?" Danni asked.

"Around eleven."

"Did he ever tell you where he was? Who he was with?" Ms. Arbor grasped the lapels of her robe with her left hand, tugging it closed at her neck. Nick couldn't help but notice her fingernails were stained brown with nicotine, just like his parents'.

"I asked him, but mostly it was 'nowhere.'" She attempted a laugh and failed. "You know how kids are nowadays."

"Did he go to the youth center very often?" Danni asked.

A spark of life lit her sallow face. "When he did tell me anything, it was about that place. He liked it, I think. I mean, it's hard to say with a seventeen-year-old. Seventeen. Already a man." She shook her head. "His father was only sixteen."

"Matt told me he didn't know who his father was," Nick interjected.

Ms. Arbor leaned over to tap her cigarette ashes into an empty can with a tomato soup label. "He didn't. I didn't either. I was fifteen and boy crazy. One of three boys—all of them sixteen—was his father. I never knew which." She said it matter-of-factly, like she was describing a stranger.

Nick felt a wave of empathy for Matt.

"Did you know any of Mart's friends? Who he hung out with?" Danni continued her questioning.

"There were two boys he used to talk about. He brought them home one time. Gary and Marsel. I don't know their last names."

"Can you describe them?" Nick asked.

"Marsel's black, tall, skinny, usually wears those baggy pants that look like they're going to slide right off him. Gary's shorter. Long brown hair. Has eyebrows that go all the way across his forehead, like there's only one."

"I know them," said Nick. "I've seen them hanging out at the center."

"Is there anybody else you can think of? A girlfriend maybe?" Danni scribbled in a notebook she'd taken from her jacket pocket.

"If he had one, he didn't tell me about her," the woman said with a snort of derision. "Guess he didn't want to scare her off."

"Did you know he was involved in theft?"

Nick scowled at Danni for being so blunt. The woman had lost her son less than a day ago.

"No." Ms. Arbor punched out the butt of her cigarette against the inside of the can. "I tried to teach him right from wrong." Her thin face crumpled. "But I couldn't even do that right."

Nick leaned forward and laid a hand on hers. It was cold and bony. "You can't blame yourself, Ms. Arbor."

"He's right," Danni said gently. "At a certain point, children have to become responsible for their own actions, regardless of how they were raised."

Although Ms. Arbor probably only saw empathy in Danni's sad smile, Nick could read the self-reproach and wistfulness in her dark blue eyes. He curled his hands into fists to keep from touching Danni, from offering—what? Sympathy? She'd prefer indifference.

"A friend of mine used to say raising a kid was like a crapshoot; sometimes you roll a seven and sometimes you hit snake eyes," Danni said. "Just remember you did the best you could. That's all anyone can do."

A tear slid down the older woman's cheek, and she brushed it away with the back of her hand. "Thank you."

Nick noticed that Danni gave Ms. Arbor time to regain control of herself instead of continuing immediately with her questions. He suspected Danni had been a good cop, compassionate and caring, much like her father, yet she probably didn't even recognize the similarities.

"Was Matt depressed or upset about anything?" Danni asked, keeping her voice low and solicitous.

Ms. Arbor shook her head, then reached for another cigarette. She tried to light it, but her hands shook too much. Nick took the cheap lighter from her and flicked it. The woman leaned close to the flame and took a few puffs to get the tobacco burning.

"No," Ms. Arbor finally replied. "If anything, he was excited about graduating from high school and getting away from here."

"Do you think Matt killed himself?" Danni asked.

"No," Ms. Arbor replied firmly without hesitation.

"Do you have any idea who might've wanted him dead?"

Ms. Arbor lowered her graying head, shaking it slowly.

Danni leaned forward to meet Ms. Arbor's downcast gaze. "Did he mention anyone he had a fight with recently? Maybe had a grudge? Did he cross anyone?"

"No. No, I-I don't know." The woman's voice was thick with tears. "I just don't know."

Danni opened her mouth, and Nick touched her arm. When she glanced at him, he shook his head. He was certain Matt's mother didn't know anything more.

He could see the reluctance in Danni's features, but she nodded once, accepting his unspoken request.

"Thank you, Ms. Arbor," Danni said. "I'm sorry if I upset you, but I just want to find the truth."

Ms. Arbor lifted tear-filled eyes. "I do, too. I-I'm sorry I wasn't much help."

Danni mumbled a few words of sympathy, then stood. "We'll let you know if we learn anything."

The woman tugged her robe snugly about her emaciated body. "Thank you."

She escorted Nick and Danni out with a shuffling gait and closed the door behind them. They walked down to the truck in silence that lasted until Danni pulled away from the curb.

"Do you believe her?" Danni asked.

Nick scratched behind Gus's ears. "Yes. Boys Matt's age don't tell their mothers anything important."

"Are you speaking from experience?"

Nick glanced sharply at Danni, expecting to find mockery. Instead, she appeared genuinely curious. He shifted his gaze to the passing street. "My mother didn't care what I did, as long as I stayed out of the way." The words came out with far more resentment than he intended.

Danni's hands clenched and unclenched the steering wheel. "Maybe I was lucky my mom left when she did."

Nick's mouth gaped, surprised by her admission.

"So, you know those two boys, Marsel and Gary?" Danni asked, abruptly changing the subject.

Still caught up in Danni's confession, Nick took a moment to switch gears. "They hang out at the center quite a bit." He glanced at his watch. "It's a little early for them to be there now, but we could stop there in a few hours."

"Sounds like a plan," Danni said. "Let's swing back by the office so you can get your car, then drop it at the house."

Two hours later, after eating Chinese takeout and leaving Gus at the house, Nick and Danni headed over to the youth center.

As Nick drove, he divided his attention between the road and Danni. She had her right ankle resting on her left knee. Her right foot jiggled constantly, and her fingers tapped a counterrhythm on her thighs. However, she'd been uncharacteristically subdued, not even arguing when he suggested they take his vehicle this time. The only time she'd shown some fire was when he'd asked what was wrong. He'd gotten a resounding, "Nothing."

"Would you quit watching me like I'm a ticking bomb?" Danni asked in irritation.

"You aren't, are you?" Nick half-teased.

Danni turned her head and leveled him with a look. "Only if you keep staring at me."

Nick braked for a red light, easing to a stop. "They might clam up around you."

"Huh?"

"Matt's friends. Maybe you should let me talk to them."

"You tried that already. All it got you was a group of pissed-off cops."

The light turned green, and Nick stepped on the accelerator. He couldn't deny her criticism, but he had a definite advantage with these kids; he'd been one of them. "This is different." He tossed her a smile. "No thin blue line."

Danni grunted and crossed her arms, which Nick assumed was her version of giving in gracefully. From his side vision, he watched the streetlights play across her strong yet feminine face, striping it with ever-changing darkness and light—one moment cold and forbidding, the next open and guileless.

Like two people resided within her.

Which one was the true Danni Hawkins?

Nick turned in to the youth center's parking lot. The center was located where gang boundaries converged, in a decrepit neighborhood that had been abandoned by everyone but those who couldn't afford to leave. No colors were allowed at the center, creating a level playing ground for those who came to play some ball or just shoot the breeze with friends. The neutral territory had survived for over twenty years because of people like Paddy Hawkins who didn't put up with any bullshit.

Nick parked in the well-lit parking area close to the building that had once been an abandoned warehouse. He recognized most of the other cars as belonging to volunteers.

Nick opened his door and started to get out, but he noticed Danni remained motionless. "Aren't you coming in?"

She blinked, and her curved eyelashes swept cheeks that appeared ghostly white in the streetlights. "It's been a long time."

Nick quelled the urge to ask her how long. He didn't know why it was so important, but he wanted her to confide in him on her own. Seconds ticked by as he waited.

She buried her hands in her blue and brown plaid jacket pockets and stared at the youth center. "I was fourteen when Dad banished me from here."

"What about when you were a cop? Didn't you come by then?"

She turned toward him, and her eyes appeared impossibly huge in her pale face. "No. This was Dad's place. I never tried to be included in that part of his life again."

Nick digested the information, and for the first time, felt a spark of anger at Paddy. The man could alleviate pain and hurting in strangers' kids but hadn't recognized it in his own child.

Danni opened her door and slid out of the SUV. Troubled, Nick joined her and walked by her side.

As they neared the center's entrance, the door flew open, and Paul Gilsen, a dark-haired man Nick's age, exited. He stopped and smiled in recognition.