For the Sake of Their Baby (7 page)

“On your own because of me.”

“And in some ways, it’s been a good thing.” At the hurt expression that flashed in his eyes, she added, “Don’t get me wrong, I would rather be part of a team than all on my own, but that means I’m an equal partner, not a child.”

“I never think of you as a child, honey. You are all woman, every little delicious bit of you.”

She nodded. “Well, as long as we understand each other.”

“I think we understand each other, don’t you?”

She wasn’t even sure what he was talking about anymore. Giving up, she returned his smile. “Perfectly.”

Chapter Four

Thanks to the phone call, Dave was outside waiting when Alex pulled up in front of Ocean Bluff’s only fire station.

“I don’t think you’d better come in right now,” his friend said as he met Alex a few steps from the truck. He accepted the bag filled with his brother’s clothes and tucked it under one arm. Dave himself was a wiry man who barely came up to Alex’s chin.

“Battalion Chief Montgomery heard about the new trial but he still thinks you’re guilty as hell,” Dave added.

“Great,” Alex said, looking longingly at the station house, the doors all open. He could see the three red engines parked in the bay, all as shiny as the day they came out of production. He knew the big cardboard box inside to the left was used to collect toys for disadvantaged kids. This place had been his second home for three years; it might never be his to enter again and that thought created still another layer of ache in his heart.

“It’s politics,” Dave said, glancing over his shoulder. He seemed nervous, which wasn’t his normal state by a long shot. Any man who could share the responsibilities of raising three little kids under the age of four, let alone
maneuver seventy feet of hook and ladder through the narrow roads of Ocean Bluff, had to have nerves of steel.

“Most of the guys think you got railroaded,” Dave added, lowering his voice a notch or two. “The rest think the old man pissed you off to the point where you were justified in stabbing him. Some of them think you should have received a medal or something. But Battalion Chief Montgomery, well, you know how he is.”

Cautiously, Alex said, “He’s the logical choice for Fire Chief when Purvis steps down next year. He’s also as honest as the day is long.”

“Plus he and Sheriff Kapp are suddenly buddies.”

Alex stared at Dave. “What do you mean?”

“Kapp was here earlier today.”

“What did he want?”

“I don’t know. Montgomery doesn’t exactly confide in me.” He looked over his shoulder again. His behavior made Alex jumpy and he found his gaze straying to the towering brick building, too.

“Listen,” Dave said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I’ll ask around. Meanwhile, this is a lousy spot to hold a serious conversation. I’m off tomorrow. Why don’t you come by the house? Ginny is taking the kids Christmas shopping so we’ll have a little privacy.”

“Sounds good,” Alex said. “There are a few things I’d like to explain to you.”

Dave nodded tersely and backed up a few steps, effectively cutting short Alex’s inclination to clap him on the back or shake his hand.

Alex drove off wondering what was going on. Dave had said Chief Montgomery and Kapp were buddies. Did it matter? Alex couldn’t see a connection or that even if there was one it pertained to him, but it was bothersome, nevertheless.

Well, no matter what Dave dug up, telling him the truth about the night Devon Hiller died would feel great. Even talking to Ron had been a relief. Emily—well, Emily was another matter.

Just how much sway did that fiercely protective woman have over his wife? he wondered. Hopefully, not too much because she was going to be one tough nut to crack. Would he try for Liz’s sake? Absolutely.

What wouldn’t he do for Liz’s sake? After high school, after years apart, they’d been lucky enough to find one another again. He’d known immediately he still loved her. The miracle occurred when he discovered she still loved him.

Would she really leave him when and if this was ever resolved? Once before, he’d felt it all slip away from him. Those weeks of sitting in his cell had been a nightmare. Then the trial, the divorce papers, the hopelessness—

When Liz had told him last night that she hadn’t killed her uncle, he’d felt a surge of hope he was not going to relinquish. Liz loved him, he knew she did. She was just feeling the shock of having her husband back, looking out for her. He understood how hard-won this new independence of hers was. She would have to learn how to balance being self-reliant
and
protected by the man who loved her because he wasn’t going to go away.

He pulled up beside Liz’s car. The rain had stopped and the sun was struggling to get through the high, wispy gray clouds. He spent a second looking at the grove of towering redwood trees that dwarfed the single story white house and felt the sense of peace he always felt when he knew he would see Liz within moments.

As soon as he got out of the truck he heard himself hailed by Harry Idle, an apt name for a man who seemed
to do very little except watch satellite television and keep track of his only neighbor’s comings and goings. Alex wasn’t too fond of Idle, but he walked out toward the fence to meet him as the older man sauntered across the country road.

“I heard on the television that they let you go,” Idle said as he came to a halt. The balding sixty-year-old had put on a few pounds since the last time Alex had seen him and after that bit of mild exertion, was breathing heavily. His weight was probably pushing three hundred and he smoked like a burning building.

Alex said, “For the time being.”

“I figure you did the community a favor by killing Devon Hiller.”

Should he protest or get away? That one was a no-brainer. “Well, see you around, Harry.”

But Harry was just getting wound up. Leaning against the mailbox post, he added, “That man ruined half this town when he put in that shopping mall. I had a nice little shoe store until Devon Hiller came along. Couldn’t afford to relocate at his fancy-schmancy mall so it went down the tubes. I haven’t had a decent job since. That’s when the Mrs. left me, too. And now, all these years later, my little girl is in a drug rehab program for the third time, all because our family got busted up by that tyrant. Downtown used to bustle. Now it’s dead. That’s all because of Devon Hiller. I’m just sorry someone didn’t put an end to that geezer twenty years ago.”

“I really do have to run,” Alex said.

“Can’t tell you how many times I thought of doing it myself,” Harry said, adding with a vaudevillian wink, “and I’m not the only one thought that way.” Pounding Alex on the back as though they were coconspirators, Harry lumbered back across the road.

A
LEX FOUND
Liz at the table, spooning canned soup into her mouth in such dainty little sips that it made his heart flip in his chest. Raised in a family of men, spending his adult years around still more men, the feminine way she had of doing everything from applying lipstick to painting her toenails always fascinated him.

She looked up and smiled. “Hunger finally got the best of me,” she said. “Don’t let Sinbad out, okay?”

Using his foot, he gently nudged the cat back inside before closing the door. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Since when don’t you let the cat out?”

She shrugged and averted her gaze and he suddenly understood. The answer was simple:
since he went away.
“How did everything go down at the station?” she asked.

He sat down opposite her. “Okay. Did you know there was a certain degree of animosity among the locals when your uncle built his first mall?”

She nodded. “Of course. I was pretty young, but over the years I heard things.”

“And what about when he built subsequent malls?”

“They were smaller, just strip malls, really. I don’t even know if many people realized he was behind them.”

“It’s a small town—I bet lots of people knew. And I bet some little businesses got shoved aside, right?”

“Probably.” She frowned and added, “For every business Uncle Devon helped go under, two new ones started. He brought jobs and opportunities into the community. And after the malls, he was involved with land development. Half the houses on the south end of town are there because of him.”

“You’re defending him,” he said softly.

“Weird, huh? Well, I’m not really defending the way he did things or the way he didn’t care who he hurt.”

“And I’m not concerned with the ethics of growth and all that right now. What I am wondering is how many former business owners with a grudge had the opportunity to kill your uncle?”

Liz blinked. “Oh.”

“Maybe you could get together some figures on the computer or something.”

“Or something. I have to warn you that I find it rather amazing what information noncomputer people think computer people can ascertain with the flip of a switch and a few pounded keys. It doesn’t always work that way.”

“You’ll make it work,” he said with complete confidence.

“Maybe. Remember those boxes my uncle had us take home a month or so before he died? They’re in the garage. He said they were full of my stuff, but you never know, there might be something in one of them that will help.”

“We’ll look.”

“And I’ll get a list of everyone who went out of business within a year of the mall opening. Then we’ll dig a little further and see what happened to them next.”

“Harry Idle’s wife left him.”

Liz smiled. “Can you blame her?”

“The point is that he blames your uncle.”

“Harry Idle?”

“His daughter has been in and out of rehab. The man thinks his life would be perfect if your uncle had left well enough alone. He may be right.”

“Are you saying that Harry Idle stabbed my uncle?”

“What I’m really saying is that where there’s one disgruntled former shopkeeper, there may be more.”

“But would they wait two decades to exact their revenge?”

“Didn’t the newest strip mall open just last winter? There are undoubtedly new grudges afloat. Anyway, it’s a place to start.”

“I’ll check everything I can think of,” she said as she took her empty soup bowl to the sink, Sinbad following and meowing. As Liz shook kibble into a bowl and set it before the cat, Alex reached for a pad of paper and a pen.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to work up a sequence of events. Your uncle was alive when you left. Do you remember if he was smoking a cigar?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t remember any smoke.”

“There was a smoldering cigar in the ashtray when I got there. I saw your car, what, maybe ten minutes before I found him. Fifteen, tops.”

“How did you get into the house?”

“I knocked, but when no one answered I tried the knob. I didn’t see how he could be asleep because I knew you’d just left and you’d told me he suffered from terrible insomnia. The door was open. His housekeeper, who told the sheriff she slept through everything, said he always locked his doors.”

“I don’t remember locking it after I left,” Liz said. “Of course, I was too upset with him to care much one way or another.”

“Who else had a key?”

“Just me. And the housekeeper and Uncle Devon. He was pretty careful about things like that.”

“Then maybe the killer was already inside the house
when you were there and left the door open when he or she left after the murder.” He felt a sudden jolt of worry. Had Liz been inside the house with a killer? Would that person now wonder what she’d seen?

“I know the sheriff didn’t find any broken windows,” he continued, trying to hide this worry from Liz. “Unfortunately, half the town had access to the house that night thanks to your uncle’s party. We need a guest list.”

“That
is
on the computer,” Liz said.

“Good. We’ll cross-reference that list with the new one you compile of out-of-work former businesspeople and see what comes up.”

“Do you really think—”

“I don’t know,” he interrupted. “I just don’t know. I’m also wondering who phoned in that timely tip. It wasn’t me or you or the housekeeper.”

“Was it the murderer?”

“I think it must have been. My lawyer said it came from the public telephone at the Four Corners Market, less than a mile from your uncle’s house. It was anonymous.”

“How did the sheriff explain that?”

Alex shrugged. “Some good Samaritan said he heard yelling and grew concerned when it stopped abruptly. He or she, they couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman for sure, said they heard it as they were walking their dog.”

“Yelling so loud that a person on the road could hear it, but not the housekeeper?”

“She sleeps above the garage, not in the house.”

“That’s true. Plus she plays a radio all night tuned into a San Francisco talk show. She’s addicted to it.” Liz bit her lip. “I was thinking about what you said, how you found Uncle Devon in front of his desk. If he
walked around the desk by his own volition and took the letter opener with him, doesn’t that mean that whoever came into his study that night made him nervous or afraid?”

“That’s a good point. I had to come up with a story for the sheriff that explained the physical evidence in such a way that it was believable that I murdered the old man, but that doesn’t make my account accurate.”

“And what story did you come up with?”

“I kept it simple. I told him that your uncle and I argued, that your uncle got angry, picked up the letter opener and tried to attack me and stabbed himself instead. It didn’t go over very well because I outweighed him by fifty pounds, was fifty years younger and didn’t have a scratch on me.”

“I think it more likely that whoever entered his den frightened him.”

“Hard to picture the old buzzard frightened of anyone, isn’t it?”

“Yes. But if that happened, then it was premeditated.”

“Especially since your scarf ended up in his hands. Someone must have brought that scarf into your uncle’s den, intending to use it, to make it look as though you killed him with it. Keep that in mind, Liz. We’re looking for a cold-blooded killer who wanted you blamed.”