Dangerous Relations (11 page)

* * * *

The fresh air helped her regain her equilibrium. Ardin strode across the parking lot,
dodging cars searching for a spot. She considered reporting Rabe's offensive behavior to the police
chief. As though he'd care how she felt. He was a man, for God's sake, and no doubt would back his
detective to the hilt.

She got into her car and slammed the door shut. Rabe could keep right on detecting, but
she wouldn't help him again. Not even if she found a crucial clue. She'd sooner track the murderer
herself than go through another humiliating session with him.

She was about to drive off, when someone knocked on the passenger window. Bill Presley,
wearing a navy three-piece-suit and toting a bulging attaché case, grinned at her.

Ardin smiled back as she opened the window. She still wasn't used to seeing old "stork
legs" dressed as a lawyer. She had too many memories of Bill in basketball silks, racing about the
court and scoring the points that had won him a scholarship to college. He still had the same goofy
smile, but his dark hair was thinning at the crown. His wonderful sense of humor and keen
intelligence were as glowing as his wife's spectacular looks.

"Hey! I was beginning to wonder if you lost your hearing, or just weren't talking to
me."

"Neither. I've just been to see Rabe."

"Ah." He nodded in commiseration. "An interrogation by our own Inspector Javert."

She grimaced. "I brought him some information, and he thanked me by casting innuendoes
and maligning a friend."

"He's a believer in the old scattershot method--shoot at everyone involved in the case, and
you're bound to hit the guilty party sooner or later."

"You mean like Dimitri Costas?"

Bill pointed a long, skinny finger at her. "Now that's someone I can't comment on, as you
well know. But you can do with some friendly company. Care for a cuppa?"

Ardin gazed at his attaché case. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere?"

"Court in forty-five minutes. But we have till then."

"It's a deal."

At the coffee shop, Bill went up to the counter for lattes and biscottis, and then joined Ardin
at the corner table.

She smiled up at him. "Now this is what I call service."

"And the reason Vivie married me. She claims I'm the only truly liberated man she's ever
met."

"You're lucky to have her."

A grin lit up his face. "Don't I know it." He winked. "I hear tell that you, Brett, and Leonie
were dining out last night like one happy family."

Ardin's heart began to race. "Brett just happened to ask me--"

Bill held up two ham-sized palms. "No explanations required. But I will say he's a hell of a
nice guy. I hope he wins his case and adopts that precious little girl."

Ardin gulped. "Bill, I want to adopt Leonie."

"You?"

His stare of incredulity wounded her. "Yes, me. Why? Don't you think I'll make a good
mother?"

"No. I mean, I'm sure you would--will."

"Suziette did name me successor guardian," she reminded him. "And Aunt Julia can't care
for her. Not now."

"True. It's just so sudden. Don't tell me you want to take Leonie to live in Manhattan."

"I do."

"Which further complicates the situation. Don't forget, an attorney will be named to
represent Leonie's best interests."

Ardin felt a chill in the pit of her stomach. "Right. I haven't given it much thought."

"Not me, of course. I'd recuse myself because Leonie and Michelle are best friends."

A battle lay before her, and Bill was telling her, as politely as possible, that he wouldn't be
taking her side. Ardin sighed. Winning custody of Leonie wasn't going to be as easy as she'd
imagined.

Bill steepled his long fingers and leaned toward her across the tiny table. "By the way, what
inspired you to visit Rabe voluntarily?"

"Oh, that. Last night I found a notebook Suziette had hidden in her old room. Good officer of
the court that I am, I took it directly to the police."

"What kind of notebook?" His sharp tone gave her an inkling of the formidable legal
opponent her old school friend could be.

"Suziette's high school record of dirty deeds. I found you under CQ."

Bill cocked his head. "CQ?"

She explained Suziette's code and did her best to keep her tone light as she said, "By the
way, did Suziette have a fling with Corey in high school?"

Bill winced. "Now you're taking me back to some painful memories."

"How so?"

He eyed her speculatively. "So you'll understand, first I have to explain a few things about
your cousin."

Ardin held up her hands. "Spare me the graphic details."

Bill chuckled. "You're totally missing the point, Ardin. Suziette was a butterfly. She
flitted from guy to guy. We all knew that. But
while
she was yours, you felt like the
sun shone on you and only you. Suziette had the power to make you feel privileged. The
chosen one."

Ardin bit her lip. "So it wasn't just the sex."

"Oh, that, too. Those three weeks I walked on air, thrilled out of my skull that Suziette was
conferring her special charms on me alone. And then I found out--"

"That you were sharing them with Corey," she finished for him.

"Exactly." He sprawled back in his chair. "I went running to her house to have it out with
her, saw them in a clinch through the living room window, and went home to bawl my eyes
out."

"How long do you think their fling lasted?"

"I get the feeling they had a fight that night, because two days later she was back with
Randy Tarkman, and he wouldn't put up with any competition."

Ardin waited for Bill to return to the here-and-now. "Do you think Corey killed
Suziette?"

He shrugged. "I couldn't say, but Suziette had a way of remaining friends with her former
boyfriends." He made a mocking bow. "Case in point."

Ardin considered the expensive bracelet her cousin had charged, the loan she'd made to
Dimitri. "That was then. Before she'd learned how to trade her charms for hard cash."

Bill looked amused. "Suziette would never prostitute herself. Besides, she was married,
remember?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of blackmail."

Bill gnawed at his thumb cuticle as he considered. "Could be you're right, Ardin. And if
that's the case, I'd put my money on one of her more recent lovers. Not someone back in high
school."

Crestfallen, Ardin said, "So Rabe was right. The notebook I found is of no use."

Bill rose to his feet. "Don't play detective, Ardin. Suziette led a colorful life that included all
sorts of people. You might ask one question too many and get someone angry. Let the police find
her murderer."

His cautionary words sent a shiver down her back. "Thanks for the coffee." She kissed his
cheek. "Good luck in court."

Bill grinned. "Easy case. I'll win hands down."

* * * *

Who killed Suziette?
Ardin pondered the question as she stopped at the dry
cleaners, the shoemaker, and the supermarket. Was it Corey? Dimitri? She shivered.
Certainly not Brett or Bill, though she'd bewitched them all at one time or another. Despite
Bill's analysis, Ardin knew her cousin had always been greedy. No doubt, as she got older,
she'd learned to exact as good as she gave.

God only knew what she'd demanded and received from her lovers. Until she insisted on
the impossible. The undoable. The one thing one particular male refused to oblige her with.

Who was the man and what was his breaking point?

Ardin's head was spinning with suppositions, none of which she could prove. Finally
disgusted, she gave up. This was no way to track down a murderer.

Home again, she put away the groceries, ate a tuna sandwich, and then drove to the
hospital. She found Aunt Julia asleep amid her various hook ups. She placed the package of clean
nightgowns on the bureau where her aunt would see it.

Julia's cardiologist peered in the doorway just then. "Ms. Wesley." He beckoned her into the
corridor.

"How's Aunt Julia doing?"

The doctor, a beanpole of a man with graying hair, pursed his lips before answering.
"Considering her weakened heart and the fact that the coronary was not severe, she's doing as well
as can be expected."

Ardin heard the concern in his tone. "I see."

She listened numbly as Dr. Morissey explained he'd like to keep Aunt Julia in the hospital
another week in order to run tests to help him decide the best course of treatment. After that, she
could go home, but would probably require a day nurse to look after her for a while. Her heart
wasn't strong, and she had to lead a quiet life without stress.

Ardin watched the doctor walk away until he disappeared. Poor Aunt Julia. The horror of
Suziette's murder had taken a toll on her health. Would she soon be visiting both her mother and
her aunt at the assisted-living residence?

One thing was certain. Aunt Julia was too ill to take care of Leonie. The court would have to
decide for her or for Brett.

"Oh, no!"

Hundreds of slivers of glass glittered on the ground by the driver's side of her car. A rock
occupied her seat. With trembling fingers, Ardin pulled aside the rubber bands to release the
note.

"GO BACK TO MANHATTAN ASAP."

She reached for her cell phone and spent the next half hour making calls--to a local garage,
her insurance company, and lastly, to her mother, who was expecting her. After Ardin had
explained everything, Vera sounded more indignant than upset.

"Be sure to call that Inspector Rabe immediately," she insisted. "Let him find the perp, as
they say."

"Oh, sure. And he's not
Inspector Anything
, Mother. He's
Detective
Rabe
,
though he stinks at detecting."

She could almost hear her mother bristling. "Ardin, you can be the most stubborn child.
And I wish you hadn't told Bill about finding Suziette's tally pad, as you call it. He's always been a
nice boy, but you mustn't take any chances."

"I know," Ardin agreed ruefully. "It's just so difficult, not having anyone to talk to about
things."

"Well, you can always talk to me. And don't forget Brett."

"Mother! He's as much a suspect as Bill, remember?"

"Says who? How long did they say it will take to repair your car?"

"Three days, if I'm lucky."

"Well, you can use Julia's car in the meantime."

Ardin winced at the thought of driving around in her aunt's large Cadillac. "I suppose, if I
have to. I'd better go. Speak to you later."

"One more thing, Ardin dear. Remember that woman we passed the other day, arguing
with her nephew?"

She thought a moment. "Your friend, Renata? The one with all the money?"

"Right. The poor thing started feeling ill two days ago and had another one of her spells.
They took her to the hospital. Would you mind stopping by her room when you're there visiting
Julia? Just peek in and say hello."

"Mo-om! She doesn't even know me."

"She's never met you, but I've told her all about you."

Ardin groaned. The tow-truck driver was climbing down from his truck. "Have to go, Mom.
The tow truck's here."

"Just look in for five minutes. It'll do her good to see a friendly face."

"Oh, all right. Good-bye for now."

"Take care, Ardin, dear. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Ardin called the police from the gas station. She felt relief when Officer Devine and another
young policeman came into the small office jammed with automobile supplies and took her
statement. No, she hadn't seen anyone break the window, and yes, she had the note in her
pocketbook. Officer Devine took it gingerly from her, and placed it in a plastic bag. She accepted his
offer to drive her home, and made no protest when he insisted on escorting her into the house and
looking around.

It was only as she watched the two officers drive off that she felt the full impact
of what had happened. She began to hyperventilate, her shoulders rising up and down as
she gasped for breath. "Get a grip," she muttered. "You're fine, you're fine." She repeated
the words over and over, until her breathing returned to normal. But she couldn't stop the
prickling feeling in the back of her neck.

Someone--maybe Suziette's murderer--had followed her to the hospital, and risked the
chance of being seen to teach her a lesson. It was an act of anger and desperation. She'd rattled
somebody's chain, and he wanted her gone. Away from Thornedale.

Me and my big mouth
,
babbling on about evidence and tally books, and making it
my business to find Suziette's killer.

She tried to recall everyone she'd spoken to recently: Frank, Detective Rabe, Bill, her
mother.

Maybe Suziette's notebook was important, despite Bill's insistence that it went too far into
the past to mean anything. She shivered as she wondered if the attack had anything to do with her
decision to adopt Leonie.

A strong cup of tea would set her right. While the water heated, she rummaged through the
bags of baked goods she'd bought that morning, until she found what she was after. She bit into the
huge cinnamon danish and moaned with delight. The sweet, familiar taste soothed her, took the
edge off her fear. She felt stronger now, strong enough to remind herself that no matter what, she
wasn't going to leave Thornedale.

She had fifteen minutes until the school bus brought Leonie home. Just enough time to pull
herself together and put on a smiling face. The poor child had had enough upheaval in her short life
without having to deal with her jittery Cousin Ardin.

She'd taken no more than a sip of her tea when the sound of a car in the driveway caught
her attention. She went outside in time to see Brett helping Leonie out of the Jeep.

Contradictory emotions unsettled her already frazzled nerves. The glorious sight of
Brett in jeans, white t-shirt, and work boots sent shock waves throughout her body. At the
same time, she resented his presence. This was
her
time with Leonie, time she'd been
looking forward to. And here was Brett, announcing to the world that Leonie was his
daughter and he intended to look after her, no matter what.