Colorado Bodyguard (9 page)

Chapter Nine

In the harsh fluorescent lighting of the interrogation room of the Montrose Police Station, Phil Starling looked even sicklier and more disreputable. “You don't have any right to hold me like this,” he said, as soon as Rand and Marco entered the interrogation room. “I didn't do anything wrong.”

“You were carrying a concealed weapon without a permit,” Rand said. He laid a file on the table and pulled out a chair. “We just have a few questions for you.”

Starling turned to the man beside him—a white-haired, florid-faced fiftysomething lawyer in a paisley tie and rumpled suit. “Tell them they can't hold me.”

“If my client answers your questions, are you willing to strike a deal for his release?” the lawyer asked.

“That's the district attorney's decision, not mine,” Rand said.

“I'm sure the DA will consider your opinion in the matter,” the attorney said.

“I see you haven't met our DA.”

The lawyer frowned. “If you aren't going to make a deal, why should my client cooperate at all?”

“How about in the interest of justice? Or because it's the right thing to do? Or how about this one—we want to find the person who's responsible for several crimes. If that person isn't your client, maybe he should help us figure out who it is.”

“What crimes?” Starling asked.

“We'll get to that.” Rand sat in the chair across from Starling and his lawyer. “Why were you at the fish store yesterday afternoon?” he asked.

“I told you—I wanted to buy fish.”

“What kind of fish?”

“I don't know. Tuna, I guess.”

“You weren't there to buy drugs?”

“You don't have to answer that,” the lawyer said.

Phil's gaze slid sideways. “No.”

“But you were aware that Alan Milbanks sold drugs?”

He hesitated. “I might have heard some things. But that's not why I was there.”

“Did your ex-wife buy drugs from Alan Milbanks?”

This question got a surprised snort from him. “Lauren? Is that what she's into now?”

“Do you think your ex-wife takes drugs?”

“Nothing that woman does would surprise me. You know she's crazy, right? Certifiable. She even spent some time in the loony bin.”

“The loony bin?”

“The psych ward. Mental hospital. Whatever the politically correct term is these days.”

“Was that why you divorced, because of her mental problems?”

“That, and a lot of other things.” Another sideways glance.

“When was the last time you saw Lauren Starling?”

“You don't have to answer that one, either,” the lawyer said.

“A lot of help you are,” Starling said. “I don't have to answer any of these questions.” He turned back to Rand. “I told you. In court, when we officially split.”

“You haven't seen her since?”

“No.”

“How does she make the court-ordered support payments to you?”

He wiped one hand across his face, which was shiny with sweat, and glanced at the lawyer, who shrugged, arms crossed over his chest. Starling sighed and turned back to Rand. “So you know about that, do you?”

“The court ordered Lauren to pay monthly support payments to you as part of the divorce settlement. How did she make those payments?”

He settled back in his chair, as if hunkering down for the long haul. “She mailed a check. Though she wasn't always on time, I can tell you that.”

“What happened when the checks were late?”

“I'd call and tell her she'd better get the check to me right away or I'd see her in court.”

“But you told us earlier you hadn't talked to your ex-wife since the divorce.”

He frowned. “Did I? Well, it's not like we were having a friendly conversation or anything, you know. We just talked about the money.”

“What about the money, Mr. Starling? How are you doing financially?”

“That's none of your business,” he snapped.

Rand paged through the file he'd brought with him. “You're staying at one of the cheapest motels in town. The manager tells me you're late with this week's payment. And he says you've been there two weeks.”

“He'll get his money.”

“When was the last time you worked as an actor?”

“I was in a show in the spring.
Barefoot in the Park
. I got great reviews. Right now I'm waiting for a deal we've got going with Hollywood to come through. I thought it would be good to take a little vacation while I had some downtime, because I can see things are going to get really busy here soon.”

“But right now you don't have any money coming in?” Rand said.

“I have some savings.”

“But your only reliable income is the support payments from your ex-wife.”

He snorted again. “I wouldn't call those reliable. She hasn't paid me anything in almost two months.”

“You are aware, Mr. Starling, that Lauren Starling has been missing for more than a month.”

“I know she hasn't sent me a check and she hasn't bothered to show up for work.”

“What do you think happened to her?”

He shrugged. “Like I told you. She's nuts. She probably decided to run off to Baja or join a commune or something. No telling.”

“But you haven't heard anything from her?”

“I told you, no!”

Rand leaned across the table and fixed Starling with a cold gaze. “We have a witness who says she saw you and Lauren together at a hotel here in Montrose.”

Phil flinched, a reaction so brief anyone who wasn't watching him closely might have missed it. “What—you think we were still sleeping together? Fat chance of that.”

“I didn't mention sex,” Rand said. “This witness says you were talking. What were you talking about?”

He looked away and said nothing.

“The hotel has security cameras,” Rand said. “I'm sure we can find photographs to prove you were there, in addition to the eyewitness.” He was sure of no such thing, but he wanted Starling to worry.

“I went by there to talk to her about the support payments,” he said, the words coming out in a rush.

“What about the payments?” Rand asked.

“I needed more money.” He twisted his hands together on the table in front of him. “She had it good—cushy job with that news station in Denver. Prime-time news anchor, everybody's sweetheart. I got work coming—a big, important role. But everything in Hollywood takes time, so it's gonna be a while before the money comes in. So I figured, she could pay me a little more now, and when the money starts rolling in for me, I'll cancel the payments altogether. If that's not generous, I don't know what is.”

“Did Lauren tell you her job at the news station was in jeopardy? That she might be laid off soon?”

“As if that was ever going to happen. That was just an excuse. The station wouldn't dare get rid of her. I mean, she has a disability, right? They fire her, she could sue. Of course, that might not be so bad. Maybe she'd get even more money. Either way, she could afford to share some of the wealth with me.”

“But she refused to pay you.”

“She did. I even threatened to take her back to court, but she didn't care. She told me she couldn't help and showed me the door.”

“How did you feel about that? Especially after you came all this way to plead with her.”

“How do you think I felt? I was plenty irate. I told her that wouldn't be the last she heard from me on the issue.”

“So the two of you argued. Maybe things got out of hand?” Rand leaned closer, his voice low, confiding. “What happened? Did you hit her? Did she fall and hit her head? Maybe you got scared and decided the best thing to do was to hide the body, drive her car out to the park and make it look like she'd committed suicide?”

Starling stared at Rand, his jaw gone slack, eyes wild with terror. “What are you talking about? I didn't hurt her. I didn't lay a finger on her. I left—told her I'd come back the next day, after she'd had more time to think about my offer. Only when I came back, she wasn't there. I figured she was avoiding me. I haven't seen her since.”

“Yet you stayed in town. Why is that?”

“Maybe I like it here.”

“And maybe you have people in Denver who are after you to pay money you owe them?”

“Yeah, maybe some of that, too. But I've just been hanging out. I haven't seen a hair of Lauren's since that one day I talked to her.”

“What about Lauren's sister, Sophie?” Rand asked.

His eyes narrowed. “What about her?”

“She says you threatened her when you saw her in town yesterday.”

“That little mouse? You've met her, right? Can you even believe she's Lauren's sister? The two are nothing alike.”

“Why did you tell her to go home and mind her own business?”

“Because she was giving me the stink eye.” He drew himself up, indignant. “She never did like me, always treated me like I was something the cat dragged in. The police arrested her for harassing me, remember. I didn't do anything.”

“What did she say to you?” Rand asked.

“She accused me of following her. As if I'd waste my time on a nothing like her.”

Rand had to fight not to defend Sophie from Starling's disparagement. She was worth far more that all the beautiful, sparkling, empty-headed women he'd ever met. But better to change the subject. “So you didn't know that Lauren knew Alan Milbanks?” he said.

“Lauren and Alan?” He laughed. “He wasn't exactly her type, you know?”

“What do you mean?” Rand asked.

“Lauren might be whacko, but she was hot. She never had trouble attracting good-looking guys. That's why she married me, you know?”

Behind them, Marco coughed. Starling scowled at him but was smart enough not to comment. “So Lauren didn't introduce you to Alan Milbanks?”

“No. I wanted some fish and people told me he had the best fish in town.”

Substitute
crack
or
meth
for
fish
and Starling might be telling the truth, Rand thought.

“Do you always carry a gun when you shop for fish, Mr. Starling?” he asked.

“I told you I'd heard rumors about the other business they did at that place. I wasn't taking any chances.” He rubbed his hand across his chin, the beard stubble making a rasping noise. “So, what happened—did you finally catch him in the act? Is that why the place was closed?”

“Mr. Milbanks is dead,” Rand said.

Starling froze. “Dead? What happened? Did he have a heart attack or something?”

“He was murdered. Do you know anything about that?”

Starling gaped, openmouthed. He certainly appeared shocked by the news, but after all, he was an actor. Rand didn't trust the reactions of someone who was trained to portray emotions. “Do you know anything about the murder of Alan Milbanks?” he asked again.

“No! What kind of guy do you think I am?”

“A guy who carries a gun to buy fish,” Rand said drily.

“I never even fired that gun!” Starling protested. “I bought it off a kid in Denver, for self-protection. I'm not a murderer!”

Fortunately for Starling, tests on the weapon backed up this assertion. The little revolver hadn't been fired in a long time, judging by its condition. And the caliber didn't match the bullet that had killed Alan Milbanks. “Do you know anybody who would want Alan Milbanks dead?” Rand asked.

“How the hell should I know? Somebody he sold bad fish to? I hardly knew the guy. He probably had lots of enemies.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Who doesn't have enemies, right?”

“Did Lauren have enemies?”

“Lauren?” The hardness around his eyes softened a little. “Nah. Everybody liked Lauren. Even at her wackiest, she was never mean. Even when she drove you nuts, you couldn't stay mad at her.”

“But you could stay mad at her,” Rand said. “You were angry enough to come all the way to Montrose to confront her.”

“I told you, that was about the money.” He leaned forward, hands clasped, expression earnest. “Listen, I know I was no angel in our marriage. I cheated on her, but you got to understand what it was like being married to her. The big TV star. The beauty queen. Everywhere we went, people fawned on her. If she came to one of my performances, everybody paid attention to her, not me.”

“A little hard on the ego,” Rand said.

“Exactly. It gets to a guy, you know? And then, I never knew what she was going to be like from day to day. One day she was this dynamo, racing around from one project to another, all happy and energetic, little Miss Positive. The next day she wouldn't even talk to me. She was like this little dark cloud huddled in the apartment. I couldn't depend on her. It drove me crazy. And it drove me into another woman's arms.” He shrugged. “So sue me. I'm human. But even after all that, part of me still loves her. I just couldn't live with her.”

“The last time you saw Lauren, what was she like?”

“She was fine. As normal as she ever got, anyway.”

“Did she seem depressed? Upset about anything?”

“No. Believe me, you couldn't miss one of her black moods. When she and I talked at the motel, she was all business, but not negative.”

“Did she say why she was in Montrose?”

“She mentioned something about work—some story she was reporting on—but she didn't go into detail. To tell you the truth, I didn't care. All I wanted was to come to some agreement on the money and leave. She's not really a part of my life anymore, and I always believed in making a clean break, you know?”

“And you never spoke to her again? No phone calls or texts or any other communication?”

“Nope. I called the hotel the next day and they told me she'd checked out. I drove by a couple of times to make sure and her car wasn't in the lot. She didn't answer my texts or calls to her cell. I figured she was on assignment somewhere else and was avoiding me.”