Shaded Light: The Case of the Tactless Trophy Wife: A Paul Manziuk and Jacquie Ryan Mystery (The Manziuk and Ryan Mysteries Book 1) (45 page)

Lately, however, being with Dean had become very difficult. He was so certain they were right for each other. So sincerely convinced. He’d declared his love for her on several occasions, once in front of several of her friends. He seemed to be a perfect match.

But was that enough? Wasn’t there something more? Something she should feel? Like the way she’d felt several times when she was with Nick Donovan? Or was it simply because Nick was so experienced in making women feel at ease?

She shook her head as if to shake off her thoughts. Nick Donovan was nothing to her. They didn’t have anything in common. Face it, she was feeling sexual attraction for the first time. She’d thought she was immune to such things.

She would fight it, though. She would have nothing to do with Nick Donovan. She laughed. As if she’d ever see Nick again! He’d only been flirting with her because there was nothing else to do all weekend. Likely he’d already forgotten they’d ever met.

Why did that thought make her feel so much worse?

Shauna had been talking with her family all evening. When her parents finally went to bed, and her three sisters, all of whom reminded her of Jillian, were asleep, she fell exhausted onto the leather couch in Peter’s study.

There had been talk only of Jillian and the funeral and the disposal of Jillian’s possessions. It was all settled now. There would be a service in the city and the body would be taken back home and buried there. Mrs. Jensen wanted it that way and Peter didn’t seem to care. As for her clothes and jewelry, Mrs. Jensen was to take everything home with her. So everyone was happy.

The difficult time would come when they got ready to head home and Shauna refused to go with them. Peter had said to leave everything to him, but she’d need a backup plan just in case Peter didn’t really mean what he’d said. No matter what happened, she wasn’t going home with her family.

After a long time, Shauna fell into a troubled sleep, tossing and turning, seeing Jillian’s face, stained with blood, coming toward her, threatening her, and Bart’s eyes mocking, telling her she was a spineless idiot. She woke up more than once, determined that from now on she would live her own life no matter what anyone said.

Manziuk and Ryan also had a busy night. It was nine-thirty when they returned to the station, having grabbed a couple of hamburgers at a drive-through window.

Ryan led the way to Manziuk’s office and kicked her shoes off before sitting on the edge of the desk.

“Don’t do that!” he barked.

Startled, she jumped off the desk. “I’m sorry. I—”

“No.” His voice was penitent. “I’m sorry. It was a stupid reaction.”

Manziuk hadn’t shut the door, and now another man walked in without knocking. “Long day, Manziuk?” the middle-aged man asked. He was fairly tall, with a solid build, fair hair, and a long, droopy mustache. His nose looked as though it had been broken at least once. The picture of an ex-hockey player, even though he’d never laced on a skate.

“Hello, Seldon. You’ve met, I trust.” Manziuk indicated Ryan.

“Yes.” Ryan said. “Superintendent.”

He nodded to her, then turned to Manziuk. “Been over to see Woody yet?”

“No chance. I talked to Arlie this afternoon for a few minutes. That’s it.”

“I was over at four. He’s looking pretty good. Quite a scare, though. He was asking about you. Worried that you’re on a case without him. Good thing he was where he was when it happened.” He shook his head in disbelief. “There’s one good mother-in-law story, eh?” He hit his fist into the palm of his hand. “Well, on my way out. How’s it going? Your report ready yet?”

Manziuk looked at him.

“I guess you’ve been busy. How close are we to making an arrest?”

“I haven’t got the reports from Forensics yet. There are some things I need to know. Fiber checks, mainly. Details.”

“Try to have something for me by noon tomorrow.”

“Provided we don’t have another murder before then.”

“Cross your fingers.” He stepped toward the door. “There’s fresh coffee in the kitchenette.”

Seldon left and Manziuk looked at Ryan. “Well, you heard the man. Let’s get to work. Ford should have something for us by morning.”

“Was that Sergeant Craig you two were talking about? Did something happen?”

“He had a heart attack this morning while visiting his wife’s mother in the hospital. He was gone, but they brought him back.”

“You’ve worked together a lot, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Go and visit him. I’ll start transcribing my notes. When you get back, we can go over them.”

“No, I can’t leave.”

“You’re going and that’s an order,” she said, holding out his hat. “After you get back, we can work all night if necessary. But Sergeant Craig needs you now.”

He stared at her a long moment before taking his hat and walking out of the room.

Manziuk flashed his badge and was ushered into Woody’s room without any argument. He was in a private room in coronary care, hooked onto a whole battery of machines, and at first glance Manziuk didn’t even recognize him. His eyes were shut, and he looked like an old man. His chest rose faintly, and Manziuk knew he was alive. But that was all.

Manziuk quietly sat down in the chair that was drawn up beside the bed. Likely where Arlie had been sitting most of the day. He made little noise, but suddenly Woody turned his head slightly and opened his eyes.

“Paul?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said gruffly. “Thought I’d make sure they were treating you okay.”

Woody gave a small chuckle. “Oh, pretty good. You hear what happened?”

“You came to visit Arlie’s mother and you keeled over.”

“Yeah. Pretty good, huh? Pays to look after your mother-in-law. They said if I hadn’t been here, I never would have made it.”

“Fate, I guess. They knew we needed you around.”

Woody smiled. “Yeah.”

“So, I guess you’ll have to take it easy for a while.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Woody’s voice was frail, almost a whisper.

“You hear they stuck me with a woman?”

“Arlie told me. She thought it was funny. You think it’s funny?”

Manziuk snorted. “She’s bossy and she can’t keep her mouth shut. And she fights imaginary dragons.”

“Sounds like you twenty years ago. Come to think of it, sounds like you now.”

“Thanks a lot.”

Woody smiled again.

“Well, the nurse told me I couldn’t stay long. Seems you need a lot of sleep right now.” Manziuk stood up, his immense size making the figure on the bed look even less alive. “So you do what you’re told and get out of here ASAP, you hear?”

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

“All right.” Manziuk put his hand on Woody’s shoulder and squeezed gently. Then he turned and quickly left the room. His eyes were misty, and he didn’t want Woody to see. That would have worried him.

Manziuk drove back to police headquarters and worked with Ryan until midnight.

Loretta was in bed reading when he got home. “Did you see him?” she asked when he walked into the bedroom.

“Not for long. About two minutes.”

“Didn’t he look ghastly?”

“I don’t know. A bit gray. But not too bad.”

He was undressing as he spoke. Methodically. His shoes next to the door with fresh socks in them. Pants and shirt hung over the valet Loretta had bought for Christmas years ago—after he’d bumped his head on the dresser trying to find his pants in the dark when he’d been called to a murder scene in the middle of the night. His shoulder holster was on the nightstand, ready to his reach. The phone at his hand. Alarm set.

He pulled back the covers and collapsed onto his back. His six-foot-five frame made a long mound in the bed, which had been made specially for his bulk. Beside him, Loretta’s five-foot four-inch, one-hundred-twenty-pound form was barely noticeable. “Arlie taking it hard?” he asked after a moment.

“As expected. She’s a good cop’s wife. Just a bit off-putting that it was a heart attack and not a gunshot wound.” Loretta reached over and slid her arm around his neck. “Rough day?”

“Rough year.”

“You could always sell insurance.” It had become a joke, but it was no less the truth. Loretta’s brother was a successful life insurance salesman who’d been trying for twenty years to get Paul to go in with him.

Paul grunted. He turned and put his right arm around his wife. “Kids okay?”

“Yes. They were here when Arlie called. Michael was upset. Lisa went to the hospital with me.”

“Mike okay now?”

“Yes. But I think he’s worried it could have been you.”

“He always worries.”

“It’s tough being a cop’s kid.”

“Anybody could have a heart attack.”

“But Woody isn’t anybody. He’s your best friend. And he’s closer to the kids than their real uncles.”

“I know. How do you think I felt? Out on a crazy case with a girl who’s wet behind the ears as secondary! Knowing Woody almost died this morning, and still might, and all I could do was keep talking to this bunch of lunatics and try to keep the cop who’s taken Woody’s place from saying something stupid!”

“Did you know Woody wasn’t well? Arlie said Seldon told her you made the call not to bother him when you got pulled in yesterday.”

“I just thought he looked tired. He’s not a youngster, you know. He’ll be sixty before he knows it.”

“He won’t be back. At best, he’ll get a desk job. More likely, they’ll retire him.”

He groaned and buried his face against her long black hair. “I’ve worked with him so long,” he said after a minute.

“You’ll survive,” she said coolly. Changing the subject, she added, “I called Conrad.”

“How is he?”

“Fine. London is terrific. Scotland was wonderful. He can’t wait to get to Paris.”

“Did he like Oxford?”

“Loved it. And he thought the people he talked to seemed impressed.”

“So he thinks he’ll get the opportunity?”

“He’s very hopeful.”

“Dr. Conrad Manziuk, Professor of Ancient History, of Oxford University. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

She snuggled against him. “Sounds very good.”

“Lisa okay?”

“Yes. She was sorry she missed seeing you. She’ll try to get back in two weeks. Hopefully, you’ll be able to get some time off.”

“Do you hate being a cop’s wife?”

“Not as long as you’re the cop.”

He smiled. “You know, there’s no way I could do this job if I didn’t have you to come home to.”

“Do you want to tell me about this case?”

“No. I just want you to be here.”