Lie Catchers (8 page)

For dessert, they ate lacy deep-fried rosettes topped with whipped cream and drizzled with chocolate, along with Liv’s crisp, rich
krumcake
. Strong coffee came with more talk about Ivor’s job, Chet’s fishing adventures, and the salmon industry. Parker noticed no one spoke of Liv’s writing.

Finally, when they were all seated around the living room coffee table with
akevitt
in hand, Parker said, “I thought you should know that my father spent a lifetime working security for the Port of Seattle. If you don’t mind, I’d like him to help us figure out where to go next with the investigation of Ev’s death. Is that all right?”

When Parker got nods all around, he asked the hardest question first, addressing Ivor, who sat across from him. “You learned that Liv was assaulted by Everett Olson when she was in high school?”

Ivor set his drink on the table. “She told me about it for the first time today, after she talked to you.” With a sympathetic glance at Liv, he said, “I’ve always been aware Liv didn’t like Ev. She stayed out of his social circle, but I figured that was because he was such a player.” He made fists. “I wish I’d known.”

Parker reached to his right where Liv sat and touched the back of her hand. “It was a traumatic event.” He turned to Harriet, sitting on the edge of her chair to Parker’s right. “I’m glad Liv could tell you about it.”

Harriet said, “He never bothered her again. I made sure.”

“What do you mean, Mom?” Liv asked, leaning toward her.

“I talked to him. Every damn year, on the date when he attacked you, I found him, dragged him someplace we could talk privately, and reminded him of his criminal behavior. I told him to keep away from you, and I warned him to behave like a gentlemen with women or I’d hunt him down.”

“Mom! You never…I said I’d handle it.”

Harriet raised her hand in Liv’s direction. “I did it for myself and for other girls in town.” She gave a sidelong look at Parker. “In Petersburg, we women are alone so much. We
have
to do for ourselves.”

“I understand, Harriet. Good strategy to keep Ev in line.”

Harriet nodded proudly and clasped her hands in her lap.

“Still, I have to ask if you had anything to do with Everett’s death, since you were in Seattle at the time he died.”

She blinked. “You think I climbed on a boat with Everett Olson, pushed him off the thing, then swam back to Shilshoe Marina?” With a chuckle, she said, “You know, I could have done something like that in my forties. Right?” She took a moment to draw assents from Ivor and Liv. Satisfied with their agreement, she went on. “But not anymore.”

“Were you with someone the whole time you were in Seattle?”

“Are you kidding? We don’t travel around in groups. I always visit the fabric and do-dad shops. Ivor hangs around with his cop buddies.” She smiled at Liv. “She’s after the jewelry of her dreams.” Liv frowned and Harriet said, hurriedly, “Clothing, too.”

Parker glanced at his notes. “But I thought you’d all gone to Seattle for an event.”

Liv took the lead. “You mean the
Selskaps Fiskeboller in Hvitsaus
?”

“Translation, please?”

“Fishballs in White Sauce for Special Guests,” Ivor said. “It was a Sons of Norway thing, annual. An Octoberfest celebration, which stretches into November. You know Ballard, of course, our Norwegian sister city outside Seattle proper. We have lots of friends and relatives there.”

“So all of you went to Ballard for this event, specifically?”

“Hardly,” Harriet said. “It was a dinner, an excuse to see friends and to shop in Seattle. We find excuses like that four or five times a year.”

“I see,” Parker said, sitting back in his chair. “What about Tilly? And Tuck?”

Harriet and Ivor turned to Liv, who gave them a “Don’t look at me” expression.

Liv said, “Tilly hasn’t said a thing to me about her relationship with Tuck.”

“What? I thought you and Tuck—”

“We dance on the weekends. Period.” Liv paused. “My friendships in this town are far from deep.” She gave Parker a defiant look. “Tilly’s seeing Tuck and seems afraid to tell me about it. She senses I have deeper feelings for Tuck, beyond a dance partner, and she might be right.”

Parker’s gut clenched at the idea of Liv and Tuck as a couple. Worse, she’d acknowledged the possibility Tilly knew more about Liv’s true feelings than Liv, herself. “So you didn’t see much of Tuck or Tilly in Seattle?”

“Tilly and I went shopping together a couple of times. That’s it. I think she and Tuck went out at night.”

“You think?”

Liv said, “The more nervous Tilly is around me, the more likely she’s spending time with Tuck. She was pretty jumpy at the
Fiskeboller
, so I’d say she’s probably sleeping with him.” Liv raised a shoulder. “It’s a small town. We tend to register tiny behavior changes but keep them to ourselves.”

Chet cleared his throat. “Who else is on the list of people who went to the fishball thing?”

“Along with Harriet, Liv, Tilly, Tuck and Ivor, we’ve got Mallen, the Ostersunds and their little boy, plus Bill Moe, who’s eighty,” Parker said. Harriet and Liv shared a furtive look. “What?” he asked Liv.

Pulling in a breath, Liv said, “Mallen. We’re not sure, but we think Mallen and Everett had something going. Mother and I talked about it before you came. We decided you needed to know.”

Parker closed his eyes at the thought of one more person entangled with Everett Olson.

“Sorry,” Liv said, wincing at Ivor.

“She’s not involved,” growled her brother, the intensity of his words drawing raised eyebrows from Liv and Harriet. “God dammit, why am I the last person to know about this kind of shit?” He cleared his throat, buying time to steady himself. Addressing Parker, he said, “What I mean is Mallen isn’t the kind of woman to go for a hound like Ev. She’s older and a hell of a lot smarter than that turd.”

The group sat quietly for awhile, registering Ivor’s words.

“Sorry,” Liv repeated to Parker, seeming to speak for her family.

“Me, too,” he said meeting her eyes. “Me, too.”

Parker walked through a steady drizzle to Lito’s Landing, unsettled by the notion his need to see Liv was more powerful than his wish to remain objective about his list of suspects. Even his father had seen right through his purpose when Parker invited him to go out for a beer. Chet consulted his watch and smiled, “At 10:00, my bedtime, you propose we go drinking?”

Parker had ducked his head, feeling like a juvenile, caught in a lie by his father. “I’m a little antsy, Dad. Or I ate too much at the Hanson’s.”

“Or something. Or someone.” His dad raised an eyebrow. “DJ tonight, hmm? You know I hate loud music, so you go ahead.”

By the time he reached Lito’s Landing, Parker vowed he’d have one beer at the bar with his back to the dancers and the DJ platform. If Liv came over to say hello, he’d talk to her. Otherwise, he’d avoid Barber and Liv altogether and spend the time thinking over the case.

The Rolling Stones complained loudly about not getting satisfaction even before Parker opened the door of the saloon. Inside, dancers clapped to the beat of the music. No sign of Liv or Barber.

At the bar, he ordered a beer and asked the bartender if Barber was around.

“Think he’s in the office with Liv.”

He’d emptied the bottle before he turned to watch the dancers. Still no Liv, shining among the bouncing bodies. No Barber. Damn it. He gestured the bartender to give him another beer, and took it with him on his search.

When he got closer to the dancers, he recognized Tilly in a clutch with a man he couldn’t identify. Tilly waved to him and pointed in the direction of Barber’s office, so Parker headed that way.

The door to the man’s office was ajar; Parker pushed it open slowly.

Barber stood at the front of his desk with his back to Parker. All Parker could see of Liv, sitting on the desk, were her bare legs, straddling the man’s torso. Parker gripped the beer bottle, visualizing himself cold-cocking Barber with it.
It’s none of my business. Leave.
He turned around, prepared to go quietly out the door, but he couldn’t make himself move further. Not until he saw Liv’s face.

Parker pivoted and advanced one step into the room and ever so slightly angled his head so he could see her expression. The first thing he noticed was her posture: back straight, not arched for passion. Her eyes rounded when she made eye contact with him, her expression changing from panic to embarrassment, to relief. So he took his cue from her and said loudly, “Sorry to interrupt, but the door was open.”

Barber whirled around, startled. “Christ, when the hell are you going to leave us alone?”

With a glance at the front of Barber’s jeans, Parker suppressed a sigh of relief. Zipper up. “I’m the pesky detective. Always nosing around.”

“Jesus, bloody hell. Can’t you see we’re—?”

“We’re not,” Liv said as she pushed Barber away, hopped off the desk, straightened her blouse, grabbed her jacket, and moved to Parker’s side. “Are you looking for a dance partner or a debrief of the dinner at my mom’s?”

Parker smiled. “No time for dancing, but I do have questions. Could you spare some time?”

“I guess so. Excuse us, Tuck?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Liv seemed to consider the question. “No, you don’t.” She took a breath. “I think we’re done here.” Taking Parker’s elbow, she said, “Let’s find a quiet spot, okay?”

“Suits me.” Parker made eye contact with Barber. “Will you be in your office tomorrow around ten? Or would you prefer that I come to your apartment?”

With a stony look, Tuck said, “Monday. Here. Ten.”

Parker squeezed Liv’s hand to his side and led her out the office door.

****

Liv couldn’t speak. In silence she put on her jacket and pulled the hood over her head while Parker did the same. She walked out into the rain with him, and immediately began to shiver from the cold, the wet, humiliation, and anger. She was mad at Tuck, and peeved that Parker had barged in. But mostly, she was ticked at herself for screwing up her plan. Had she drunk too much to carry it out successfully? Was she too tired? Maybe she had a cold coming on. Her mission had been simple but she’d botched it, alienating the one man in town who had money for the family project. With a glance at the guy who was escorting her home, his elbow pinning her arm to his side, she sighed. The problem was Parker.

She unlocked the store and walked upstairs to her apartment, figuring Parker would come up behind her even if she told him to go home. He was a man after answers, so he wouldn’t leave her alone until he was satisfied with what she had to say.

Escaping to the bathroom, she used the toilet, put a brush through her hair and checked for mascara smudges. She closed her eyes and leaned against the bathroom counter, weary of her charades.

Parker stood silently in the middle of Liv’s living room. She wanted to ask him what he wanted from her, but couldn’t bear the complications in his answer.
Soothing. I need soothing
. She clicked on a Diana Krall disc waiting for the first words of “Killing me Softly” to warm the space. Fingering the amber stones of her necklace brought a memory of the last time she wore them. January 24th, one year ago. A blustery day of shopping in Sitka. Rain came with lightning, a rarity. Memorable. As always, date details grounded her, bringing exactness to a whirlwind of confounding emotions.

Parker touched her shoulder. “May I have this dance?”

Liv twirled to find him so close she could smell beer on his breath. A hint of cologne. Had he shaved recently? Smiling at the thought he might have done that for her, she gave him her right hand and rested her left hand on his shirt collar, intent on finding a way to touch his chin to answer the shaving question.

But the shave-or-not dilemma was a minor one. She’d already screwed up with one man tonight, would she make a wrong move with Parker, too?

She drew her thumb along his chin and sighed at the silky smoothness. Forget the man’s mouthful of queries and his intense gaze. Just dance.

While the singer lamented over losing her mind, Liv’s body disappeared into Parker’s. Soothed, she was and aroused at the same time, aware Parker knew not to use words. A close shave and a close dance spoke volumes. She was the silent one, afraid to say what might start an avalanche of sentences, lowering her guard, exposing too much to the wrong person at the worst time. This man who held her was a cop and she was on his list of murder suspects. Even if Parker was unorthodox as an investigator, he still held the power of his profession. The reason for his offer to dance wasn’t clear, was it?

The strumming ended, emptying the room of the singer’s piercing ballad.

“Good night, Liv. And thank you for the dance.”

Parker kissed her on the forehead, walked out the door and closed it quietly, taking with him all the unasked questions she would never answer.

****

“How was Lito’s tonight?”

Parker squinted into the dark living room of the B&B, surprised to hear someone was up at such a late hour. “Dad? What happened to your early-to-bed plan?”

“He’s a gentleman, your father is,” came a woman’s voice.

“Jenny? Couldn’t sleep?” Parker’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. Jenny and his father were seated close to the fireplace, its embers gently lighting their faces.

Chet said, “We started a roaring fire that lit up the room. Thought we better hang around to make sure it died down.”

“Truth is, your father indulged an old woman. I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut these days.”

Parker sat on the slate bench fronting the fireplace, facing Jenny and his father. In the waning light, Chet and Jenny’s complexions appeared smooth, and their hair took on a golden glow, more blonde than white. Parker had the unsettling experience of viewing a youthful version of his father and the ghostly figure of his mother. “You look….uh…” he stammered, overcome by emotion. God, he missed his mother. “You seem comfortable here by the fire. Solve any world problems?”

“Actually we focused on solving yours.”

“Mine?” Parker asked, surprised by the notion.