Jude Devine Mystery Series (106 page)

He sounded deflated. Jude knew the feeling. Adrenaline fueled a homicide investigation like this one, and when the primary would never get the chance to try for a confession or even interview the suspect, because he was deceased, the case suddenly became much more clinical and the drive faded away.

“If they’re our guys, you’ve closed a major case,” she reminded him. “It wasn’t just good luck.”

“What about everything else?”

“Maulle is dead,” Jude said flatly. “If he was a pedophile, the FBI will eventually investigate him and determine whether or not to make the case public. I doubt they will. What’s the advantage in humiliating his family?”

“I’m not convinced that he was,” Koertig said. “I just got through the first notebook. It’s not sex fantasies or anything like that. You should take a look.”

“I don’t need to,” Jude said. “And neither do you. In another few days, this case will probably be history. Just have someone pack it all up and I’ll see it gets to the right people. We can also pass on what we know about Anton Voronov to the FBI.”

Koertig managed a glum nod. “I wanted the perp walk.”

“You’ll get to stand next to the sheriff at the press conference.” Teasing him gently, Jude said, “If you’re lucky he might even let you say something.”

“First I have to squeeze him for the Miami trip.”

Jude pointed toward Pratt’s door. “Go break the good news. He’ll be all over it.”

*

“Thanks for helping me with this,” Pippa told the handsome deputy carrying her boxes into the log house.

Jude had said she would send someone, and Pippa was half expecting a stringy, middle-aged trooper who would spit in the shrubbery every time he came up the steps. She felt bad about checking out a hot guy in the house where her uncle was murdered not even a week ago, but it was hard not to notice six feet of gorgeous male standing right in front of her with a smile that made her heart pound in her chest.

Pippa wished she’d remembered to put on antiperspirant or bothered to wear a decent top. Instead she smelled of pizza and had a tomato stain in the center of her T-shirt where her cleavage was supposed to be. She also had greasy hair because the shampoo in her hotel room had run out and housekeeping had replaced it with conditioner by mistake.

“Where would you like this one, ma’am?” Again that old-fashioned sideways glance and shy flash of white teeth.

Pippa pointed anywhere, knowing she was blushing. She reminded herself that she was now a stupidly rich millionaire who could buy handsome men like she bought purses, and throw them away when she got bored. She wondered if her parents knew how much she was going to inherit. Was that why her mom had suddenly wanted her to come home and had even offered the conservatory for her sculpting?

She thought about Ryan and his bitch wife who always put her down. Pippa wanted to share the money with him, but not while he was married to
that
. Besides, Griffin Mahanes could say what he wanted, but she wasn’t going to keep it for herself. There was so much good she could do with a fortune like that, Pippa got emotional thinking about it. She loved animals and the environment. If she was smart, she could put the money to work and help make the world a better place. In her heart she knew that was why Uncle Fabian had left his fortune to her. He knew she cared about the things that really mattered.

Pippa let herself look at the deputy again. Tulley. The name suited him. His coal black hair dropped over his forehead, tempting her to slide it back between her fingers. She wondered whether he would act differently toward her if he knew she was rich. Probably. The thought made her uncomfortable, and she was glad no one knew except her family and the attorneys. The detectives all thought she was just staying in the house temporarily. Pippa had let them make assumptions. She had the impression they thought her mother was in charge now. Naturally Delia had encouraged that idea.

Pippa decided if anyone asked, she would say what she’d said all along, that her uncle had left a lot of money to charity. It wasn’t a lie. She would just leave out the other half of the story. If she was going to live here for a while, she wanted to make real friends who liked her for who she was.

“I never saw a log cabin like this one.” Deputy Tulley stood in front of the windows gazing out at the splendor of the mountains.

Pippa could sense his awe. He wasn’t just talking about the house but also the matchless perfection around it. She let her gaze slide over him again, taking in his long legs and slim hips. The gun rested on his right, a little lower than his waist. His torso was lean, rising to a chest and shoulders that filled out his shirt without making him look like a hulk.

If she had to find a word to describe him, it was “beautiful.” He reminded her of the marble gods she’d seen in Italy one summer. She wished she could run her hands over him. Warm living flesh as smooth as cool stone. He would make the perfect model, supposing she could concentrate enough to sketch him. She caught her breath as he turned, and for an awful moment she thought her fascination must be obvious. His expression was almost skittish, his eyes screened by long black eyelashes.

“Are you going to be okay here, by yourself?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. I thought I’d just close up his rooms and try not to think about it. I guess I’ll just see how it goes.”

Tulley didn’t look at her directly. Tucking a thumb in his belt, he said, “I was thinking, if you want I could fix you up with a dog. I’d let you borrow Smoke’m for a couple of nights, except that he’s a duty animal and we have to be on call at all times.”

“Don’t worry.” Pippa tried for a lighthearted tone. “I have Oscar, and I’m going to pick up the cats tomorrow morning, once I’ve finished unpacking.”

She felt uneasy and a little confused for the second time that day. Earlier, when Jude had called her about moving her stuff into the house, she’d mentioned Hugo. They’d spoken and Jude said he’d offered to provide security if Pippa wished. Because they weren’t face-to-face, Pippa wasn’t sure if the concern in Jude’s tone was just sympathy or if she was worried. Now, here was Deputy Tulley suggesting she got a dog.

“Deputy?” she asked. “Do you think I should get a security guard in case those men come back?”

Tulley rested his right hand on his holster. He seemed to be considering his next words carefully. “Talk at headquarters is that won’t be a problem. There’s a couple of dead bodies down in Florida that look a whole lot like those composite pictures you saw.”

“Really? You caught them!” Pippa felt light-headed with relief. “Oh, my God. And they’re
dead
?”

“We don’t know for sure it’s them, and don’t tell anyone I said so. Okay?”

“That’s fine. I won’t say a word.” Impulsively, Pippa asked, “Are you off-duty now, Deputy Tulley?”

He checked the solid stainless steel watch at his wrist. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Want to have dinner with me?”

For several noisy heartbeats she thought he was going to say no, but a broad, slow smile creased the corners of his mouth. “I sure would like that, Ms. Calloway.”

“That’s Pippa,” she said, not for the first time.

“My name’s Virgil,” he responded. “But I answer to Tulley…and darned near anything else a lady wants to call me.”

The line would have been hokey from another guy, but from Tulley it seemed too sweet and sincere to be anything but the bald truth.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Pippa said. “I’ll go change and be back in a few.”

As she climbed the stairs, a chill crept over her and she caught hold of the banister, suddenly overcome. Images danced before her eyes. Blood. Uncle Fabian’s gray face. Her legs shook and sweat broke across her forehead. She took a step back and glanced behind her.

Before she could say a word, Tulley took the stairs two at a time. When he reached her, he said, “It’s okay. Take a breath. Real easy.”

He placed his arm behind her, barely brushing her waist, and walked her up the stairs like a partner in an old-fashioned dance. When they reached the top, Pippa let herself lean against him for a moment.

Tilting her head, she said, “Thank you.”

Their eyes met and this time he didn’t look away.

Chapter Seventeen

“This house has an elevator,” Tulley whispered in Jude’s ear.

They were just inside the doorway of a contemporary living room that opened onto a slate-paved terrace. People roamed the outdoor entertainment area, carrying cocktails and converging around the pool. Mercy’s home on High Desert Road was what realtors would term a “luxury retreat.” She and Elspeth had bought the place soon after their wedding. Jude had given the housewarming party a miss.

“That’s Portia di Pazzesco.” Tulley tilted his beer glass toward a conical-breasted blonde. “She’s in the new Rupert Palmer-Forbes film. The one about the movie star whose girlfriends all look the same.”

“In art as in life,” Elspeth Harwood cooed from behind them. “Portia’s real name is Mary Stubbs and she’s a total slapper. Be warned.”

Jude stepped sideways to avoid the kisses Elspeth was doling out to party arrivals. Tulley stayed where he was and went pink beneath his tan when Elspeth brushed her lips against each of his cheeks.

Jude had to admit Elspeth had pulled out the big guns tonight. Her incredible red hair cascaded in natural ringlets over her milk-white shoulders. The ivory dress she wore was a filmy, strappy thing that made her look naked underneath, which upon closer inspection, was possible. Her ingénue-pink lipstick probably matched her nipples. It would have been easy to find out since the front of her dress barely covered her breasts. On some women this look might have seemed slutty, but Elspeth looked like a wood nymph who’d strayed into the realm of mortals. It seemed pointless to hate her just because she was absurdly beautiful.

“What’s a slapper?” Tulley asked, gazing at the actress in breathless adoration.

“That’s British for a vulgar flirt who’ll shag anyone if it will help her career. Or even if it won’t. Which reminds me,” Elspeth hooked her arm in Tulley’s, “there’s a favor I want from you, sweetie-darling.”

Eager as a puppy, Tulley asked, “Do you want me to light the fire pit?”

“Not yet.” Elspeth patted him indulgently. “See that woman, the one with the trout pout and the diamonds? She’s executive producing my next movie and she wants to meet you.”

“Me?” Tulley fidgeted with his belt buckle. He got anxious talking with strangers at social gatherings. That was one of the reasons he didn’t have a girlfriend, at least that was a theory he’d shared with Jude. “Why?”

“She enjoys handsome young men and you’re the handsomest in the room, silly boy.”

“I don’t want to be an actor,” Tulley said.

“I know. But that won’t matter to her, trust me.” With a radiant smile at Jude, Elspeth said, “Do excuse us. Must go schmooze.”

Jude couldn’t resist watching as her deputy was fed to the she-wolf. Elspeth must have told him to say nothing and smile. He did his best but could not quite hide his alarm as the bejeweled fingers trailed down the front of his shirt. Jude ignored his “rescue me” stare. Her thought was
You wanted to come to this shindig, pal
.

She strolled to the bar and observed the activity out on the terrace while she waited her turn. This was clearly an upscale party. Instead of the usual potato salad, hot dogs, and scorched steaks off the grill, platters of sushi and froufrou finger food were being toted about by crisply dressed waiters who looked like models. Jude hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She flagged down a pretty boy and scooped a handful of edibles onto a napkin. Everything tasted of spinach, a vegetable that had never inspired rapture in her.

The long-bodied brunette ahead of her in the line dropped a ten-dollar tip on the bar and sashayed away with a couple of cocktails. Jude asked the bartender if there was a decent Scotch to be had.