Lethal Affair (23 page)

Will raised his eyebrows. “He must
have incredible will power.”

“
When he finally took me up
on it, it felt like he was testing himself. Like he was holding
something back.” She paused. “Are you sure you want to hear
this?”

“
I'm a big boy. I can handle
it.”

“
Well then. In the heat of
the moment he completely tuned out, like I wasn't even there. Does
that seem odd to you?”

“
It sounds like a red
flag.”

“
I knew right off I'd made a
mistake trying to seduce him in the first place. Then I found out I
was pregnant.”

“
When you say he was
controlling himself, do you mean sexual control?”

“
Control as in playing it
straight. No rough stuff. Then when I went to his place for dinner
he grabbed my arms, hard. It felt like he wanted to hurt me, but
then he reigned it in.”

“
You agreed to go see his
folks and got backhanded for it. Did you tell Crane about
that?”

“
I did. He's probably at
Drew's office interviewing him as we speak.”

“
What about your folks? How
are they taking this?”

“
I haven't told them my
little theory. They have enough worry on their plates. My Dad will
be opening and closing the store from now on. Won't leave my Mom
there on her own.”

“
Good. Lyle wants Jolene to
stay with him for now. It would mean you'd be on your own here and
that makes me nervous. Why don't you stay with me and Max for a
while? We'd love to have you.”

She gave him a look.

“
You'd have your own room.
Strictly friends.”

“
If I did that then my
parents really would be worried. Not to mention the Drew factor.
It's probably a reach that he's responsible for Lillian, but
regardless, I don't think you'd enjoy having his car parked outside
your place, would you.”

He sighed. “You're right. I have Max
to consider. We've got to step up security here at the very
least.”

She liked the sound of the “we”. “I
think I know just the right company for the job,” she said, and
rose in search of Brad Humphrey's card.

*

Jolene refused to leave Kylie on her
own. Lyle not only got it but respected her for it. He and Will
headed back to the diner to get ready for opening, Jolene's morning
training session canceled for the day.

Brad Humphrey sent over his son Jay to
oversee the installation of a standard alarm system. It only took a
couple of hours and once complete, he ran Kylie and Jolene through
the steps of arming and disarming the system that included sensors
on all windows and bedside panic buttons.

“
If you end up pushing the
panic button by mistake it's okay,” explained Jay. “Our motto is
better safe than sorry. If you don't mind me asking, is there a
particular reason why you're installing a security system right
now? My Dad mentioned there's been an area of concern.”

“
Yes, there has,” said
Jolene. “A woman got murdered just up the street last night. It's
like you said, better safe than sorry.”

Jay nodded and handed over a form for
signature. “I heard it on our police scanner. Scary stuff. You two
ought to take some self defense courses. At the very least watch a
few videos on Youtube.”

“
Thanks. We'll look into
it.”

“
Okay then, you're all
set.”

“
Thanks.” Kylie hesitated.
“Listen, I know this probably isn't your area of expertise, but
seeing as your Dad is ex R.C.M.P., you wouldn't happen to know a
good lawyer?”

“
What kind of
lawyer?”

“
I'm looking into getting a
restraining order.”

Jay's smile was politely rueful. “The
guy my Dad had a little talk with on your behalf the other
day?”

She felt herself flush. “Yeah, one and
the same.”

“
Here in this province it's
called a peace bond. You go before a judge and explain why you need
it, then the person you want to get it against has a chance to
explain their actions. If the judge thinks it's warranted, he or
she will grant it for up to one year. So you see, it's a process.
Still interested?”

The wind died in Kylie's sails as she
realized the legal process might mean facing off against Drew in
court. The whole thing just made her feel worn out.

She offered Jay a wan smile. “Thanks.
Think I'll sleep on it. Can I call you?”

“
Anytime.”

*

Detective Sargent Ethan Crane sat in
Drew's plush corner office overlooking downtown Victoria and the
Inner Harbor.

He took stock of Hammond. The man was
impeccable from head to toe, perfectly groomed and oozing
sophistication. The kind that could fool a woman into thinking she
was safe. He paid particular attention to his hands. They looked
soft, manicured, trauma free. Certainly not the hands of a weekend
gardener. According to Kylie Lambert, Drew Hammond thought nothing
of hitting a women. But was he a killer? At this stage of the game
that old cliché about everyone being a suspect applied.

Drew's insides were as loose as jelly.
He felt like dashing for the washroom. Surely they hadn't connected
the dots already. “What can I do for you, Detective
Crane?”

“
It's come to my attention
that you've recently been stalking a woman by the name of Kylie
Lambert. Is that true, Mr. Hammond?”

So that was it. Deep
breaths.

“
Is that what I am to her
now, a stalker? She's pregnant with my child and has been avoiding
me. To be perfectly frank, she blew me off.” He sighed
theatrically. “Says she's not in love with me. So that's that. I
won't be bothering her again.”

Crane observed the nuances of
Hammond's speech, his mannerisms, his word patterns. The man was
lying about taking Kylie's rejection on the chin so lightly; his
calm exterior waged war with a nearly undetectable deceit that
glimmered in the depths of his eyes.

Was there a connection between Kylie
and Lillian? Unraveling the complexities would come
next.

“
This is why you're here?”
Drew asked, feigning boredom. The jelly solidified as his
confidence grew. Kylie had a thing or two coming to her for sicking
this dog on him. The idea that she was probably suffering right now
over the loss of her roommate satisfied his ego.

Crane ignored his question. “You met
with Miss Lambert at the Dancing Pig last evening. She left before
you did and according to the staff you left about an hour later.
You'd had a considerable amount to drink. Where did you go
afterward?”

A jolt passed through him. This guy
had done his homework. It took all of his will power not to visibly
swallow. “I went straight home and stayed there until leaving for
work this morning.”

“
I see. Is there anyone who
can corroborate that for you?”

“
You mean, did I pick up
anyone at the bar?”

“
If you prefer.”

If you
prefer
. What a snob. Easy, man. Don't let
him get to you. “I did not. I live alone and was there alone. Why
would I take home a stranger when I'd just been dumped by my
girlfriend?”

“
It's what men do sometimes.
You know, to ease the pain.”

Was that some kind of innuendo? Drew
couldn't tell. Play it cool, he thought. “What's the problem? Did
something happen to Kylie last night?”

“
No, not Miss Lambert, but
to someone connected to her.” By a thread, but connected. “A woman
was brutally murdered last night. The crime took place outside of
her parents' hardware store.”

“
Oh?” Drew picked up the
discarded business card Crane had handed him earlier and examined
it. “You're homicide. You think I had something to do with the
murder?”

“
Did you?”

The question came quick and hard. Like
a slap.

“
As I said, I was at home.
Who got murdered?”

Drew wanted to relish the answer,
however privately. But Crane's next statement knocked him for a
loop.

“
Lillian McFarley. Name
sound familiar?”

There was a hairline hesitation, a
slight blanching of Hammond's skin. His recovery was award winning,
but Crane was good at picking up on fractions of errant emotion. It
was what made him so efficient at his job.

“
No. Never heard of her.”
That much was true. “What happened to her?” Drew asked, feigning
avid interest while his mind tried to catch up with Crane's
statement.

“
Someone used her for a
punching bag.”

He let that hang in the air, gauged
Drew's reaction. He didn't disappoint.

Drew felt the blood drain from his
face and couldn't do anything to stop it. Those had been Kylie's
exact words, that she was nobody's punching bag. A part of him felt
deep shame. Another part felt delicious pride. Inwardly both sides
warred with one another while Drew struggled to keep his demeanor
neutral.

God, but he was good at this. He may
have missed his calling. “That's a terrible shame. But what does
this woman have to do with me?”

The connection was loose but he threw
it at him anyway. “She was training for a waitress job at the same
place Kylie Lambert's roommate works. You do the math.”

“
Doesn't add up for me I'm
afraid.”

I can practically see him
patting himself on the back, thought Crane. His cop sense was
prickling like a woolen sweater.
This
could be our guy. I just have to prove it.

Crane got to his feet and Drew
followed suit.

“
I'll be in touch, Mr.
Hammond.”

“
Oh? Of what further service
can I be to you? Surely I'm not a suspect.”

Cocky bastard, aren't
you?
He let the question lie.

“
I'll see myself
out.”

He left and immediately Drew's
inter-office phone buzzed. His secretary informed him that he was
to report to Stanley Hammond's office at once.

Annoyed, Drew thought, what
now?

Riding the elevator to the penthouse
floor, Drew digested the fact that he'd screwed up. He'd killed the
wrong woman.

But wow, what a kick! He'd never felt
such power, such glory! It had placated the need inside him. For
now.

Stanley sat in his imperialistic seat
behind a huge mahogany desk. The view from up here was stunning,
the Olympic mountains a purple haze on the distant horizon above
the cityscape.

“
You just had a visit from a
homicide cop. What's that about?”

“
A girl was murdered in the
Village last night. Someone beat her to death. Apparently she's a
work mate of Kylie's roommate. They wondered if I knew her, that's
all.”

“
And did you know
her?”

“
No.”

Stanley stared at his son. He was
fidgeting, nervous. Trying to hide it.

“
You're sure.”

“
Yeah, yeah, I'm
sure.”

“
Alright then. Back to
work.”

Drew slunk off to the elevators
relieved that the interrogation had been short. If there was one
man who could still intimidate him it was his father.

Stanley sat at his desk staring into a
blast from the past. Drew as a six year old child, pulling wings
off of flies. Beating the petals off of his mother's roses with his
plastic baseball bat. Then almost turning the bat on the neighbor's
cat before his mother interceded and took it away from
him.

There had been other, more alarming
incidents throughout his adolescence.

Stanley formed a steeple with his
fingers and stared into his own past. He had his regrets, now that
he was older. Wiser.

He also had a finely honed sixth sense
when it came to his son. The boy was hiding something. Of that
Stanley had not one doubt.

* * * *

CHAPTER TWELVE

A summer heat wave hovered over
Victoria turning the greenhouses into saunas. The work was
grueling, sweaty as hell. Kylie's morning sickness added to her own
personal misery, and so she was glad when the weekend finally came
and she'd have two whole days off.

Drew had not shown up again at her
place of work, nor had he harassed Margie. When she looked out of
her apartment window, there was no sign of his car within her line
of sight.

With luck, she reasoned, he was
probably tired of being rejected and didn't want anything more to
do with her after Detective Crane's visit to his office.

A woman could hope.

Lyle had taken Jolene to work so she'd
left her ten-speed at home. Kylie decided the afternoon was too
lovely and the apartment too stuffy to stay put. A ride to Willow's
Beach might pick up her lagging spirits.