Interior Motives (21 page)

Dutch gave my fingers a soft squeeze. “Wanna talk?”

“I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t owe me a thing. I’m just glad I was here. Misery is the pits, and it’s worse to sit and cry all alone.”

I arched a brow. “
You
know my kind of misery?”

“I’ve been around more than thirty years. Not all of them have been so hot.”

“That lawsuit over the house that slid down the hill.”

“Among other things.”

“Must feel good to be cleared of that stain.”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t have a clue.”

I gave a raw chuckle. “Maybe not about lawsuits, but I’ve had more than my share of pain.”

“Looks like you’re having more right now.”

“You could say that.” I drew in another deep breath and came to a decision. “Please don’t give me grief about my curiosity, okay? This isn’t the time for a joke or one of your snide jabs.”

He reached over, placed a finger under my chin, and turned my face to his. “Torture’s not my thing, Haley. You’re down right now, and I’ve never lashed out at someone who’s down. I may kid around, but I don’t hurt people.”

Why I decided to trust him, I’ll never know. “It’s about Tedd. She was at the Weikerts’ with the sleazoid doc the afternoon Darlene died. Would you believe it?”

“Interesting . . . but I don’t think I’d call Dr. Díaz a sleaze. Unorthodox maybe, but not shifty or crooked.”

“Even if it looks like someone poisoned Darlene’s HGH? He’s the one who sold her the serum, and he’s bought the lab where it’s made—with a loan from Darlene, no less.” “And you can convict the guy on that?”

“I haven’t convicted him. But he doesn’t answer questions, and I bump into him everywhere I turn.”

“He has legitimate business in Seattle.”

“He could have the illegitimate kind too.”

“Hypothetically, that’s true.”

“He was at Darlene’s house the day she died. I have to wonder if he didn’t give her a little extra nudge to hurry the end even more.”

“Someone gave her something that day. She was poisoned.” “Not in the usual way. She took in the arsenic over a period of time. At least, that’s what the pathologist who ran her toxicology screen told Lila.”

“And she told you? My, my. Aren’t we chummy these days?”

“She didn’t share privileged info, if that’s what you mean. Cissy asked for the extra tests on Darlene’s body, and Lila stopped by to give her the results when I was there.”

“For tea and crumpets, I presume.”

I blushed. “I had questions for Cissy.”

He chuckled. “I figured as much.”

“You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me.”

“Okay, okay. You’re right, I did.” He drew his brows together. “Didn’t you say you were upset over Tedd? How do you connect the dots here? Other than she counseled Darlene.”

“I told you. She was at the house that day with Dr. Dope.”

“You don’t mess around, do you? What a thing to call the guy.”

“I could call him Killer, but you’d like that less.”

“Can you blame me? You’re not just jumping to conclusions, you’re taking flights of fuzzy faith and crash-landing on mounds of quicksand.”

“Okay. I could be wrong. But things don’t look so good for the doctor right now. And Tedd’s in the thick of it.”

“Because she knows the guy? Because of her visit?”

“She doesn’t just know the guy, Dutch. She nearly married him. And she rivals the NFL’s best defensive end when it comes to the doc.”

He let out a low whistle. “She dated Dr. Díaz? Then you have to take whatever she says with a mountain of salt.”

“Now you’re getting it. And there’s more: she never said a thing about their romance. She didn’t even tell me she knew the guy.”

“Why would she share her personal life?”

“Because she’s my friend.”

“You sure about that?”

“I’m not sure about anything anymore. But I thought better of her. I trusted her.”

“And you don’t trust me—even after I saved your hide a couple of times.”

“It’s different. Tedd’s my shrink.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “So you do need a shrink. For real.”

“Don’t laugh. That’s serious. Only that little tale’s not for tonight.” I reached out and grabbed his hand. “Don’t you get it? I can’t stand to think she might have had something to do with Darlene’s death.”

He laced his fingers through mine. “That’s rough. I don’t blame you for being upset. Remember though. Tedd would need a pretty good reason to want Darlene dead. Does she?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know how far she’d go to protect Dr. Dope. His research is like his whole life.”

“She must have been a big part of that life at some time.”

“Not so long ago either. She says she broke up with him the week before Darlene died.”

“I hear your skepticism—again. Why?”

“Didn’t you see them at the Thai restaurant the other night? They were together. What if she lied and didn’t break up with him after all?”

“Why would she lie?”

“She might want to stay out of the cops’ radar.”

“It didn’t help her dodge yours.”

“But why wouldn’t she tell me about her engagement? Why didn’t she talk about the upcoming wedding? Why wouldn’t she say a thing about the breakup? Why wouldn’t she trust me?”

“Maybe it’s not about trust. Maybe it’s about the kind of person she is. You know, the private kind.”

“But she didn’t say a thing, not even when I told her about you—”

I bit down on my tongue. I couldn’t believe I’d said that, what I’d almost confessed to him.

Get a grip, Haley.

He narrowed his gaze but didn’t mention my slip. “So if not Tedd or Cissy, and if we put the doctor aside for a while, who do you think killed Darlene?”

I was still shaken by my slip. “Ah . . . well . . . um, maybe the sons. They have lots of dollar-sign motives. Neither one’s your usual bean counter, lawyer, trash collector, builder, or cook.”

“Aren’t they both independent?”

I hooted. “Darlene still had to spring for Tommy’s clothes, for goodness’ sake. And that’s after she forked over his trust fund a few years ago.”

“What about his car dealership?”

“Darlene footed that bill too.”

“Hmm . . .”

“Yeah, pal. Hmm to the max. And the day you saw me there, he got a call from someone who put the squeeze on him for money. It sounded like he’d been sure he’d inherit Darlene’s dough with Larry, had gone out and rung up a whopper tab somewhere but then had to face the music with his usual empty pockets.”

“Now I see where you’re going with this.”

“That’s not all. Larry’s another piece of work. He’s the ultimate techno-nerd with a thing for the newest, spiffiest hardware that comes down the pike. He blew his trust fund on electronics of the outrageous-price kind.”

“But if that’s the case, then he should be set. Techo-nerds are the modern-day silver barons. Why would he kill his mother?”

“Shows how much you know. Cissy told me he feels the equipment’s obsolete the minute he hauls it out of the store. He’s always ‘investing’ in that stuff, and he’d hit up Darlene every time he got the itch to upgrade.”

Dutch whistled. “Electronics don’t come cheap. There is a reason for his wired state, isn’t there? I mean, he does use it in a business, doesn’t he? Or are you saying he sponged off Darlene too?”

“No one’s sure what he does. He does have a home. The deed’s in his name. I checked—that’s easy to do.”

“Maybe Darlene bought that too.”

“Sure. Why not? But if both mooched off her so much, would they really want her gone? She never seems to have said no.”

“Maybe she finally did. They must have been desperate. Maybe they gambled for the whole inheritance . . . and then lost.”

“That’s why I have to check out their finances. And I have to look into Dr. Dope’s—sorry, Dr. Díaz’s—business. We only know that Tommy’s a mess and Larry’s just strange.”

“Never thought I’d see the day, but you know? I think you’re right. We have to nose around these guys’ businesses.” A shimmer of hope made me smile. “So you’re with me?”

He squeezed my hand. “You do make a funky kind of sense.”

I shot him a glare. “Watch it, buster!” Then I faced the single largest obstacle. “Have any brainstorms on how to do it? I’m fresh out of snooping ideas.”

“Actually, I do. You remember Ron Richardson?”

“How can you even ask? It’s not as if I stumble over people’s dead daughters every day.”

“He’s got more connections than the California power grid.”

“I hope his don’t black out as much as California’s do.”

“Let’s give him a chance, okay?”

“Count me in.”

We made plans to meet with Ron as soon as the busy man could spare the time. Then Dutch stood and gave me a hand up, but he didn’t release my hand. When I gave him a curious look, I had to catch my breath.

His eyes glowed with . . . tenderness? I wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, it touched me somewhere deep inside. His mouth curved in a gentle smile unlike any I’d ever seen on him.

And then he really did it. He pulled me closer, wrapped his arms around me, and cradled my head against his chest. What totally blew me away was my response. Instead of backing up, all my danger alerts firing, panic multiplying like termites in damp wood, I shocked myself and leaned into his warmth.

We stood there for long minutes. I welcomed the strength of his arms. I felt the rise and fall of his breath. I heard the steady beat of his heart.

“You’re something else, you know?” Dutch whispered.

“How? Like a mold and mildew plague?”

He gave me a squeeze. “No, more like a daring two-year-old.”

I pulled away as far as his iron-bar arms let me go. “That’s not nice, Merrill. I don’t do tantrums.”

Usually.

“It’s not about tantrums. You’re innocent and bold, and it just gets me.”

“So I’m naive and reckless?”

This time he treated me to a gentle shake. “Quit twisting my words, will ya? Let me pay you a compliment. You step out with a brand of courage most people can’t imagine. I get the feeling you’ll do whatever it takes to see justice done.”

“Chalk one up for the smart cookie! I could never stand to see a rotten slug get away with murder or theft or . . . whatever.”

“Yep. You’re a one-woman crusade, all right.”

“I wouldn’t go that far, but if there’s something I can do, I have a responsibility to do it.”

“I don’t get that responsibility thing, but you wear your gutsy spirit on your sleeve. Sometimes I think you don’t know fear and have no clue what self-preservation means. I can’t decide whether to buy you a leash for your own sake or beg you to let me in on your secret for bravery.”

I shuddered. “Trust me, Dutch. I know fear better than most. I faced the worst humanity can dish out and, by the grace of God, lived. I do have a healthy sense of self-preservation. It’s just that I’ve come to realize I’m not in control. The best decision I ever made was to turn everything over to God.”

“So you use faith as a reason to indulge your snoopier side.”

That topic would keep for another time, so I jabbed a finger into his hard chest. “Face it, Builder Boy. You’re just jealous. I’ve been right way more times than you.”

“Let’s see how right you are this time.”

“Set up a date with Ron, and I’ll sniff out our perp.”

He chuckled. “Ron was pretty impressed with you. Let’s see how he feels about your dog-with-a-juicy-bone ways when he’s on the receiving end of your need to know.”

“I’m not going after him, so he’ll be fine. I only want him to help me figure out what’s the deal with all these people.”

You could’ve knocked me over with a feather at his next stunt. With a smile as wide as Puget Sound, Dutch leaned down and pressed a kiss onto my forehead. Then he let go, tapped the tip of my nose with a finger, and added, “Come on. I’m going to follow you home—to make sure you stay out of trouble.”

I went into warp drive: packed up, locked the office, flipped the alarm back on, hurried to my car, turned the key, threw it in gear, and drove home with the radio blaring into the night. I didn’t want to think about what had just happened.

I exhaled my relief when I parked in my driveway. But Dutch again shocked the socks off me. He parked on the street and ran to the driver-side door.

“What’s the deal?” I asked, my voice less shaky than I felt. “Don’t you have a home?”

He shrugged. “It’s a lonely place.”

I got out of the car and shot him a grin. “Get a dog.”

“Like you told Lila, huh?”

“Guilty as charged.” I went to the porch, my six-foot-plus shadow still attached. “And it worked. Rookie’s urgent toilet needs have put a dent in her cop shop obsession.”

He laughed loud and hard. “I can’t see the cover-model cop doing the poop-scoop thing.”

“That was Dr. Farrell’s exact prescription for her. Picking up your pet’s doggy doo puts life into perspective.”

When I opened the door, the sounds of Armageddon sucker punched me. Bella and Dad were going at it pretty good.

Dutch laid a hand on my shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Beats me. They rarely see eye to eye, but they don’t usually fight. It sure sounds like they need a referee this time. Let’s go.”

We marched into the kitchen, from whence the verbal cannon fire sallied forth.

“How could you?” Bella bellowed.

“I forgot.” Dad’s voice rang louder than I remember ever hearing it. “It just slipped my mind.”

“That’s the thing, Hale. It’s not as if church board meetings pop up in the pumpkin patch. They happen every month. What’d you do instead?”

He frowned, rubbed his forehead, then shrugged. “I don’t think I did much of anything. How did you know I missed the meeting?”

Bella mimicked a phone to the ear. “Hello, Hale. It’s me, Bella Cahill. I’m the one who writes your church newspaper. Every month. Have for four years. No one’s ever told me I’m that easy to forget. Who d’you think puts the meeting schedule in that very same newspaper?”

“Well, sure, but—”

“No buts, then. I know when the meetings are supposed to happen, and I know when I see your bedroom light from across the street right around when you’re supposed to be Robber Ruling at the church that you missed the dumb meeting. Did you forget my new career? Did you forget who I am? Huh?”