Don't Look Down (25 page)

“He’ll be here in twenty minutes,” she returned, squeezing his knee beneath the table. “And don’t worry; I can run faster than Frank.”

“Let’s hope we don’t have to find out whether that’s true,” the detective noted, slipping his ever-present notepad out of his jacket pocket. “Let me have it.”

“You found Stoney holding a Giacometti statue, right?”

“A who statue?”

“Giacometti. Alberto Giacometti. Trust me, he’s big.”

“Okay.”

She could have told him that Stoney never hid business shit in his front closet, not when he had a hidden room in the attic, but that probably wouldn’t help anything. “The statue wasn’t taken in the original robbery, and I know that because it was there at least until Charles Kunz’s wake. Daniel took me into his dad’s old office and asked me if I knew what it was and how much it might be worth.”

“And you told him what?”

“I told him a full-sized Giacometti had gone for as much as three million.”

The detective sat back in his chair. “I’m not sure you should be telling me this, Sam. You’re admitting that you saw this statue and then the next day your guy gets arrested with it in his possession. That doesn’t look good.”

“But Stoney also had a Gugenthal ruby with him, didn’t he?”

Frank eyed her. “How did you know that?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute. Look at it from the perspective
of a professional thief.” She gave a brief grin. “Pretend I’m acquainted with one. I know exactly where the rubies are, how to easily liberate them, and I decide they’re probably the simplest and most lucrative items in the house to dispose of. Easy to hide, easy to disperse in small quantities. I walk right past an unprotected Giacometti that’s not even listed in the insurance papers yet. And then a couple of days later I go back and steal it
after
the family realizes how much it’s worth.”

“But why would someone plant it on Barstone?”

“Because it makes you look at him—and maybe me—for the murder and robbery.”

He nodded. “And the ruby connects him—you—to the night of the crime. The Giacometti only connects him to the house.”

“Right.”

Frank jotted down a few notes. “Can you prove
anything
you’re saying?”

Samantha drew a slow breath. Castillo hadn’t let her down yet. There was always a first time, but hopefully this wouldn’t be it. She needed him to know what was going on, and she needed them to be able to trust one another, even at the cost of the bet. “Not yet, but I think Daniel did it, and I think Laurie suspects him.” The whys and wherefores could wait until later—if ever.

“And?” the detective prompted after a moment.

Sheesh. Everybody was getting to know her way too well. “And so I kind of offered to help Laurie dispose of any stolen items and keep her brother out of prison.”

The tip of Castillo’s pencil broke. “You
what
?”

“Hey, you’re always telling me you need proof.”

“Yeah, but…” Frank swore softly in Spanish. “If they
trap you into doing something illegal and then drop a dime on you like they did on your friend, you’re screwed, Sam.”

“They won’t trap me into anything. I’m the trapp
er
. They’re the trapp
ees
.”

Rick was also gazing at her. “Don’t forget that this isn’t just a robbery. It’s a murder, too.”

“That’s why I’m doing this—for Charles. All I want is answers—and proof.”

“No.” Rick stood, walking to the floor-length windows and back. “I know how you push people into revealing things, Samantha. Pushing like that to find a murderer will get you killed.”

“Excuse me for interrupting,” Frank broke in, “but whatever everybody’s hunches might be, I haven’t found a stitch of evidence that either of the Kunz kids had anything to do with killing their dad. No motive, nothing. Maybe they just took advantage of circumstances and robbed the safe.”

“Maybe,” Samantha admitted reluctantly, “but I don’t think so.”

“Cash went missing at the same time, you said,” Rick put in as he continued pacing. “I have to say, extra cash is fairly easy to fold into a real estate business. And Laurie Kunz has one of those.”

Rick might know everything about the sharks in the business world, but she knew about theft and greed and the way people’s minds worked. They made a pretty good team, actually. “And Daniel’s got a cocaine habit. A bad one.”

Castillo pulled another pencil out of his pocket. “That could explain his need to take the rubies—especially knowing the insurance company would lock down the estate—but it still doesn’t prove a murder. His father bought him a yacht, after all. And he’s got a stable of polo ponies or something.”

“He’s got a pair of them,” Rick said. “We’re actually playing on the same team Monday afternoon, for the Fireman’s Fund charity.”

“I think we need to look at the insurance papers,” Samantha mused, “because Daniel said the boat wasn’t his—yet. And I’d bet a Picasso that the ponies don’t belong to him, either. Charles wasn’t a fool. He had to know about Daniel’s drug habit. Maybe Dad was pinching the money hose to force Daniel into rehab or something. Can we check to see if he’s been to any clinics lately? Or whether he was scheduled to enter a clinic and didn’t?”

“That’s gonna be sticky, but I can pull a few strings.”

“So can I,” Rick added after a moment. “And don’t forget Laurie in all this.”

“Let’s say I’m buying into all this speculation,” Castillo said. “And let’s say it makes more sense than anything my guys and I have been able to put together. What’s our next step?”

“That’s easy,” Samantha replied, storing Frank’s response in her mind for use against Rick later. She
was
ahead of the cops. “We wait for a phone call. How do you feel about barbecued steak?”

Saturday, 7:15 p.m.

R
ichard sat in one of the wrought-iron bistro chairs on the pool deck and watched as Samantha did a cannonball into the deep end in tandem with Mike and Olivia Donner. From what Samantha had said, she hadn’t had much of a childhood, but she made up for it when the Donner kids were around. He noted that Chris Donner, the oldest of the brood, had abruptly decided he wasn’t too mature and dignified to take a dip in the pool, either—and he knew that it had happened the moment the Yale law student had seen Samantha in her red bikini.

They made an odd group tonight: The thief, the police detective, the lawyer, and the British nobleman. Rick took a sip of beer. Extremely odd, and yet over the past three months it had all become rather…normal.

“Hey,” Samantha said, trotting up to drip water on his shoulder, “are you going to sit there and brood all night?”

“I’m barbecuing.”

Her cool lips kissed his ear. “It’s just a little more murder
and mayhem,” she whispered. “They’re becoming my specialty.”

He twisted his head to look up at her. “You’ll have to forgive me if I’m not terribly happy about the way you put yourself in harm’s way.”

“Take it easy. She hasn’t even called yet. She might not.”

“And if she doesn’t?” For a brief moment he hoped that Laurie and Daniel Kunz had decided to flee the country rather than go up against Samantha Jellicoe. If they knew her as well as he did, they might consider it.

“I’ve been thinking about that.” She lowered her voice still further. “A little B and E for a good cause could be just the thing.”

His hands went cold. “Sam, you prom—”

She put a finger to his lips. “This isn’t just about Charles, now. It’s about saving Stoney. And I never promised. I said I would try.”

Bloody, fucking hell
. “Don’t—”

“I’ll tell you first.” She straightened again. “At least get some trunks for Frank. You two are still teammates, right?”

Richard sent a glance at the detective, sipping an iced tea at one of the bistro tables and chuckling at the kids in the pool. He’d put himself in charge of Samantha’s cell phone, and it sat at his elbow, charged up and ready to ring if anyone called.

“Right. He’d probably sink straight to the bottom, but I’ll ask if he’s interested.”

She kissed him again, this time on the mouth. “Thanks, sweetie. She’ll call. Then you’ll only have my safety to worry about. And turn the hot dogs.”

Shit. He got to his feet and went to check the barbecue. Mike and Livia had demanded hot dogs rather than steaks, and after a mere moment of Samantha-instigated chaos, din
ner had turned into dogs and burgers, leaving Hans busy in the kitchen making something called macaroni salad.

Richard flipped the burgers and turned the hot dogs, then made his way over to Frank. “I keep plenty of extra suits, if you want to take a dip.”

“Thanks, but technically I’m still on duty.”

With a nod, Richard returned to his seat with Katie and Tom and took another draw of his beer. Samantha had returned to the pool, and was playing blind man’s bluff with the three Donner kids.

“So whose idea was it to invite the cop?” Tom murmured, working on his own beer.

“Samantha’s. We’re waiting for a phone call.”

“So I gathered. Anybody in particular?”

“Yes.”

Tom scowled. “You know, if we’re butting in during your little murder and robbery rodeo of fun, we can go.”

Kate put a hand on her husband’s arm. “Don’t be so cranky. I’m sure Rick would let us know if anything dangerous were going on.”

He heard the warning in her voice, the mother protecting her brood. “Nothing more dangerous than a phone call, Katie.”

She smiled. “Thanks for your generous SPERM donation, by the way. It was the hit of the luncheon.”

Tom blinked. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The manatee society, hoss,” she returned, laughing. “Rick and Sam donated five thousand dollars.”

The attorney was shaking his head. “You people really need a better acronym.”

“It gives the blue-haired old ladies a thrill,” Kate said. “And gets the cause attention. So it all works out.”

“Except for the husbands like me who have to say their wife’s looking for SPERM contributions.”

“That’s part of the fun.” She squeezed his wrist. “Now go and lifeguard so Rick and I can chat for a minute.”

“Yeah, okay.” Tom snagged his beer and went to sit on the end of the diving board.

“What are we chatting about?” Richard asked, settling deeper into his chair.

“Are you actually looking for a house for Patricia?”

“Did Samantha tell you that?”

“Actually, your realtor did. We chatted before the luncheon.”

“You know Laurie Kunz?”

She leaned closer. “Don’t change the subject, Richard.”

He forced a grin, though he didn’t consider his question unimportant. Kate’s opinion of Laurie could have been useful. She had great instincts. She was also still glaring at him, and he shook himself. “What was the subject?”

“Patricia.”

“She asked me for help. But I really don’t think it’s your concern.”

“You know, I thought Samantha was out of line when she went driving with Patricia. Then she shows up at SPERM with Pa—”

“Will you please call it something else?”

“Fine. Laurie says you’re helping dear Patricia find a place to live in Palm Beach. Then Sam shows up at the manatee society with Patricia and says you know they’re working together.”

“And your point is?”

“My point is, are the two of you insane?” When Frank glanced at them, she gave a self-conscious glance at the rest of the pool deck occupants, then lowered her voice. “I know you didn’t appreciate Sam associating with Patricia, because I know you. So you turn around and try to find her a place what, a mile from where you and Sam are living?”

“She asked for my help,” he repeated, clenching his jaw. He didn’t need advice on his damned relationships.

“If you can’t resist your chivalrous impulses, fine, find her a place to live. Buy her a nice house. But for God’s sake, don’t set that viper loose in your own backyard. She’s not here to do you any good. She’s here to help herself. And she’ll slip in between you and Sam so smoothly you won’t even realize it until Sam decides she’s had enough and vanishes.”

“Nobody’s vanishing, Kate.”

“Trust me, Rick. I know how the female mind works. Patricia’s been here what, two weeks? And already she’s jumped into Sam’s work, and into your time.”

Reluctantly Richard had to admit that Kate had a point. A good point. He looked over at Samantha again, treading water about three feet from Mike and easily eluding the fourteen-year-old as he searched for the other swimmers.

“I never thought of Patricia as being that slick,” he said slowly.

“Come on. She’s a professional at getting what she wants, and she’s desperate. You’re the only failure she’s had, and I don’t think she’s given up on you, yet.”

Richard straightened. “She’s not getting
me
back. That’s ridiculous. I’d never trust her again, even if it wasn’t for Samantha.”

“She doesn’t have to get you back to ruin you and Sam. But play it however you want. I’m just saying you should be a little more cautious. I mean, when you caught her and Peter, I hope you realize that couldn’t have been the first time they fooled around on you.”

He’d considered that during the divorce, and it was probably the closest he’d ever come to doing Patricia physical harm. Being reminded of it didn’t serve to improve his mood
any. “You’ve given your advice, Kate. I trust you’ll leave the rest to me.”

Reinaldo and another employee, Valez, emerged onto the pool deck just then with a bowl of macaroni salad and a tray of condiments. Richard blew out his breath. “All right, burgers are burning,” he called, standing.

They clustered around three closely spaced tables, handing bottles of ketchup and jars of mustard around. He’d always enjoyed entertaining the Donners, but with Samantha present, and even considering Frank Castillo’s unexpected visit, he couldn’t put a word to the sense of deep satisfaction the evening gave him. It was probably the first time Solano Dorado had actually felt like…home.

“What are you smiling at?” Samantha asked, shoveling a mound of macaroni salad onto her plate. “I thought you were being pissed off this evening.”

“I’ll save it for later,” he returned. “Any more thoughts on how you’re going to refurbish the landscaping here?”

“I’m thinking garden gnomes. They could peer around all the ferns and stuff.”

Thank goodness he was already working on his second beer. The veneer of alcohol enabled him to give a calm nod. “Perhaps the Seven Dwarfs and Snow White.”

“Hey, that’s good. I was thinking more like leprechauns, but I like the whole enchanted forest thing.”

Beside her, eight-year-old Livia in a pink one-piece swim suit and a pair of blond ponytails, was laughing. “You guys are crazy.”

“You should make like a Japanese garden,” Mike contributed.

“Great, squirt,” Chris said from the neighboring table. “That would totally go with the Spanish-style house.”

“Oh, and like garden gnomes go with anything.”

“She was joking.” The oldest Donner offspring looked at Samantha. “Weren’t you, Sam?”

She shrugged, still grinning. “Who knows? I’m pretty sure gnomes go with everything.”

“Mike could loan you his
Star Wars
action figures,” Olivia offered.

“I can not. You loan her your doll collection.”

“I have a stone tortoise my uncle made for me,” Castillo put in unexpectedly. “I’d be willing to donate that. It’s bright blue.”

“A blue tortoise?” Olivia exclaimed, giggling.

Frank nodded. “I think my uncle’s crazy.”

“Then he’d fit right in here.” With a laugh, Kate passed the bottle of ketchup.

Samantha’s cell phone didn’t ring. They sat out by the pool through dinner and through an ice cream sundae dessert, and through a soak in the Jacuzzi for Samantha and the kids, and nothing interrupted them.

Finally the Donners gathered up their clothes and shoes. “This was fun, Uncle Rick,” Livia said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah, thanks, Rick,” Mike added as his mother nudged him forward.

Chris offered his hand. “Good luck this semester,” Rick said, shaking it.

“Thanks. I’ll need it.” After a hesitation, the twenty-year-old took Samantha’s hand as well. “It was great meeting you, Sam.”

She grinned. “You too, Chris. You’re way cooler than your dad.”

He laughed, blushing. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, thanks a lot,” Tom put in. “I’ll see you in the office first thing Monday, right?”

“Right,” Rick agreed. That would be for the meeting about Walter, and how to ensure he got out of jail on bail. “Samantha and I will be there by eight.”

The attorney nodded. “Bring your checkbook.”

“I will.”

“I’d better get out of here, too,” Castillo said, shaking hands.

“Thanks for staying,” Samantha told him, wrapping her fingers around Richard’s arm, probably so she wouldn’t have to shake the detective’s hand. She’d come a long way, but not quite that far.

“You call me as soon as you hear anything,” Frank returned. “I’m not kidding.”

“I get it.” She nodded.

Not that she’d said she would call, but Richard let that pass. He was just happy to have the rest of the night alone with her.

Samantha checked her cell phone again and pocketed it in the thin jacket she’d donned. “Technically she’s got until early afternoon tomorrow to call me back, if she does it at all.”

“I looked at the TV listings for tonight,” he said, escorting her up the poolside stairs to their bedroom balcony. “
King Kong vs. Godzilla
is on in about fifteen minutes.”

“You wouldn’t kid a girl about something like that, would you?”

“Never.”

Yes, that was his Sam, the best cat burglar in the world, now mostly retired, and fanatic Godzilla fan. And justice-bringer for a murdered millionaire whom she’d only known for a few minutes, despite the cost to herself and her small circle of friends. Even considering what had happened, Charles was lucky to have her on his side.

Richard frowned. She’d said Charles had been uneasy that night. Had he known someone was going to kill him? Had that been why he’d approached Samantha? That made her some sort of avenging angel, he supposed. It suited her, and in truth he couldn’t exactly imagine her doing nothing but planting garden gnomes. What would she do, then, if her next client only needed an alarm system?

“I’m going to check my e-mail,” he said as they walked inside the master bedroom suite. Leaning down to pick up the TV remote, he tossed it to her. “Be right back.”

“I need to shower the pool off me, anyway.”

In his office, Richard turned on the computer and then slid open the top drawer of his desk. All evening he’d been weighing whether to leave the party in favor of the Kunz papers. If he didn’t take a look at them before Laurie called, he could be allowing Samantha to step into more danger than she realized. Of course, he could simply have told her he had the files in his possession, but if they turned out not to have any significant information, he’d be losing a step on her—and he couldn’t afford to do that. Nor would he risk letting Castillo know he had the files; he was supposed to be aiding the legal side of the wager, and he was certain getting those papers without some sort of warrant couldn’t be good for the police department’s case.

Tom had managed to get just about everything he’d asked for: Paradise Realty financial statements, Charles Kunz’s will, and some of the Kunz family trust paperwork. Slowly he began paging through it, looking for anything that might point to a motive for robbery and murder. The real estate records would probably have been indecipherable to anyone without a background in business and finance, but to him it said marginal success, with a net large enough to keep the
company in business, and small enough to keep it from being anything to gloat about. Hm. According to gossip, Charles’s little girl was a real estate wizard. It didn’t look that way to him. But was that enough to point to robbery and murder?