The Michaela Bancroft Mysteries 1-3 (79 page)

"New evidence?" she asked. He
was
here about the tapes then.

He nodded. "I'm here to let you know that Carolyn Taber, Sterling's sister-in-law, committed suicide this afternoon and left behind a set of incriminating tapes, along with a letter that has led us to believe she was involved in her brother-in-law's murder. I'm afraid that you were a victim of circumstance. My apologies."

"Suicide?" She shook her head. No, that didn't add up at all. Carolyn Taber was off—that much was a given—but she hadn't appeared suicidal. Michaela could buy into the possibility that she'd murdered Sterling, but not that she'd kill herself. The tapes. She rubbed her forehead. "Um, you said tapes? What do you mean?"

"Ms. Bancroft, this is an ongoing investigation and I'm not permitted to discuss it with you." He leaned back against his cruiser.

Rage suddenly boiled under the surface, overtaking her sense of shock. "
You can't discuss this with me?
After all the grief you've caused me in the past week, going after me like a pit bull, and you can't at least let me in on what you've found?"

"That is correct. The case against you was shaping up to be circumstantial, and it would appear after our forensics team went over the polo mallet again that there is another set of partial prints on there. I do apologize for any inconvenience this has caused you."

"
Inconvenience?
All I have to say,
Detective
, is that if I were a vengeful person, I'd have a lawsuit smacked down on the police department and you personally so fast that you wouldn't have time to shove another donut down your throat! This has been the most poorly conducted investigation." She shook her head. "I think it would be best for you to leave now."

She stormed off toward the barn as Peters drove away.
Now
they found partial prints other than hers on her mallet? Of course: Because she'd handed over the tapes, the investigation took a different turn. She kicked the dirt with her foot. "Damn!" She went into her office, grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, and sat down at her desk. The tapes. Peters had said that Carolyn had a set of tapes with her when she killed herself. But she'd pleaded with Michaela for
her
tapes. Sterling had told Carolyn that he'd destroy the tapes, or at least that had been her story. He hadn't destroyed his set, that much was for certain. Michaela had turned that set over to Jude. And Carolyn had presumably destroyed the set that Sterling had sent her. He told her on the tape not to bother destroying her set because there were others. Someone had another set of those videos. But who? Had Carolyn killed herself because she felt there was no hope? Maybe she thought that if her husband found out, things would be over between them and the gravy train would stop running. Again, though, how had she acquired a set of the tapes? Where was she when she'd supposedly taken her life?

Michaela wanted answers, because she wasn't buying the idea that Carolyn had killed herself. Women like Carolyn Taber bounced back, even after ugly divorces and scandal.

She needed to talk to Jude. Would he give her the information she wanted? Or would he tell her to go and do what she was best at—train horses and teach kids? Wasn't that what he'd told her? She hit her desk. Here she should be thrilled. She was off the hook. No one suspected her of any wrongdoing and she was free to get her life back on track. But still, what good would it do if she felt in her gut that Sterling Taber's killer wasn't dead but still out there? Sure, Sterling and even Carolyn weren't exactly pillars of society, but they
were
people, and they didn't deserve to be murdered. And Michaela knew that Carolyn Taber had been murdered. She just knew it.

She got up from her desk and headed into the house. She had withheld one of the tapes from Jude, the one with another woman in it—which she'd assumed was a one-night stand. She hadn't thought it mattered the other night when she'd seen it, and then she really didn't think it mattered when she connected Carolyn to the other tapes. But
did
it matter, though? Could the mystery woman have had a set of the tapes, too?

As much as she hated to do it, Michaela put in the other tape. She watched all forty minutes of it and was thoroughly sick to her stomach when it was over. She saw nothing. Well, she saw something all right, but she couldn't find anything odd. The sound effects consisted of some grunts and moans and Sterling finally yelling out the woman's name—Sheila! Yuck.

Nothing there. Michaela paced inside the family room—usually a place of comfort and warmth, it now felt like four walls closing in on her. There were holes in all of this, and she was going to take them one by one and plug them up. She called Jude but he was out of the office, so she left a message. She was determined to learn what he knew about Carolyn Taber's apparent suicide. Since she couldn't start with Carolyn, she'd begin with Rebecca Woodson's fall from the pier in Santa Barbara last summer and her subsequent death. Everything about what had happened last summer smelled foul to her. She didn't believe the story that Rebecca had fallen by accident. She'd seen Sterling in action. The man had an anger management problem, plus he was a narcissist and complete egomaniac. He'd do anything to cover his ass. Both Zach and Tommy had witnessed Sterling and Rebecca drinking, then arguing, and that was all they knew until the next morning when the police questioned Sterling. Then, Rebecca's brother came by to beat
the truth
out of Sterling about what had happened to his sister. Then, the Woodsons filed a wrongful death suit that Charles Taber quietly made go away with a large sum of cash to the Woodsons. After that he'd cut down his brother's share of the family fortune and suggested that he leave for good; thus, Carolyn Taber and Sterling's desire to get back into his wealthy family's deep pockets.

Michaela got on the Internet, hoping to see if she could find out any more information about Rebecca Woodson. After about an hour of skimming articles and scouring phone information pages, she found the man she believed to be Rebecca's brother. She had to speak with him and find out what the family thought happened that fateful night. She picked up the phone and hit pay dirt.

Rebecca's brother, Ryan, hesitated to say anything at first. "Who is this? What do you want? You from the paper?"

"No. I'm not from the paper." Michaela explained who she was. She told him about Sterling's murder, the investigation over the past week, and why she felt the need to talk to him. Amazingly, the man didn't hang up on her.

"I'm not surprised that bastard is dead. You know, Becky was my baby sister. A good kid. Sure, she was a little wild sometimes. She liked to party, and if she hadn't gotten all caught up in that rich-kid crowd, she'd still be here. But that Sterling dude, he was no good, you know? Strung Becky along like he was dangling a carrot in front of a rabbit. Creep. I hear he done that with lots of girls. Liked to give them jewelry and things, you know, make sure they believe he was into them. Crazy, too, 'cause a guy like that didn't need to do no convincing girls to be with him, you know? A guy like that only needed to snap his fingers and there you go, the girls come runnin'."

"He liked to give women jewelry?"

"Oh yeah. Gave Becky a diamond ring, like he was gonna marry her or sumthin'. Please. That ring, she had it on when they found her." He started to choke up. "I know this is gonna sound real awful of me, but I needed money to investigate those people. Them Tabers are loaded and when Becky was killed—and she was killed, I know—it broke my mother's heart. I made a vow to get those people. I took that ring to hock it and get some cash to pay this guy I know who's a private eye, and the ring was a fake. Fake fucking diamond."

"Fake?"

"Huh. Yep, fake. Just like that guy was."

Michaela asked him about what he thought happened the night his sister died.

"I think Becky and what's his name, can't even say it, got into it. My sister was feisty and I think she figured out what he was all about, and they started in and he pushed her off the pier. He ran home and hid behind his family's dough. Money talks."

"I hate to ask you this, but what about the rumor that Becky had a sugar daddy?"

"That's bull! I never heard that. She wouldn't do that."

"What about the wrongful death suit your family filed?"

"I can't talk about that. The Tabers did pay my mother some cash and we decided to leave the situation alone. Too painful."

"Did you ever talk with Sterling again? After your sister's death?"

"Once. Dude actually called me three weeks ago. He had the gall to call me and tell me that he wanted to talk to me about Becky and what happened that night. I told him that unless he planned to admit that he murdered my sister, we had nothing to talk about."

"What did he say?"

"I didn't let him say nothing. I hung up on him. He came into my work a few days later but I wasn't there. I don't know what the hell he wanted. It's probably a good thing for him I wasn't here. But looks like I won't need to be worrying about Sterling Taber dropping in on me ever again."

Michaela talked a few minutes more with Ryan, thanked him, and hung up. Tommy was pretty certain that Rebecca had a wealthy older man keeping her in diamonds and pearls and that she played him on the side, but her brother claimed he had no knowledge of it. Was it pure rumor started by a group of wealthy, spoiled young people, or was there a secret life to Rebecca that her brother either didn't know about or denied? Either way, as far as she was concerned, she'd acquired two interesting pieces of information from Ryan Woodson. The first tidbit was that Sterling had gone to see Ryan when he was in Santa Barbara. Why? What was it that he wanted to tell Ryan about his sister's death? He surely wasn't going to admit any wrongdoing. The visit itself was a mystery, but could it be tied into Sterling's own demise?

The other fascinating thing she'd learned was about the ring that Sterling had given to Rebecca—a fake. It caused Michaela to think about the tennis bracelet she'd found, and Sterling's juvie stint for stealing an expensive jewel.

Before she had time to explore that train of thought, her doorbell rang—repeatedly. Oh God, don't let it be Peters with a change of heart about things.

"Okay, I'm coming!" she yelled. Whoever was on the other side of the door certainly wanted her to open it.

She was surprised when she opened the door and came face-to-face with Ethan's wife, Summer, holding Josh. It took Michaela a moment to even register who it was. She immediately recognized little Joshy, but—hold the horses—Summer was not in her usual state of yuppydom with carefully applied makeup and perfect outfit. "Summer?"

She handed Josh to her. "I have an appointment and I couldn't find anyone to watch him and I knew you'd probably be here and it's important, and you are his godmother, so watch him for me for a little bit, okay?"

Michaela nodded. "Sure. Are you okay? Is everything all right?" Was this for real, Summer asking her to help with the baby? Never in a million years would she have thought this would happen. Something had to be wrong. "I'm…well…uh…are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," she snapped. "I don't have a choice. Are you going to help me out here or what?"

"Yes, of course, I'll watch Josh. Everything is okay, right?" she said again.

"Everything is perfect." Summer took a step back and stood up straight, brushing her hands across her tight, black satin pencil skirt and lacy white blouse cut down to…well, pretty low, and the hair—no longer the pretty copper that Michaela was slightly jealous of. No, it was magenta almost, and not pulled back, but down, long and wavy. If Michaela didn't know better, she might think that Summer and Ethan had some kind of hot date planned, because she looked every bit the seductress. "There's formula in here." She handed her a blue diaper bag. "And diapers, wipes, and a jar of food. Actually there's a few jars of food. He likes the sweet potatoes."

How long did she plan to be gone? Not that Michaela minded. She loved being able to spend time with her godson. "What time will you be back?"

"I left a message for Ethan, letting him know to pick him up here. My appointment could run late, so Ethan will be by."

"Okay." So they didn't have some afternoon delight thing planned. Strange, but Michaela was relieved, which was stupid, because it wasn't as if Summer and Ethan didn't sleep together. And now she herself seemed to have a sex life again. Sort of.

"Bye. Thanks." She gave Josh a kiss on the cheek. The baby smiled at his mom but didn't reach out for her as he leaned his head against Michaela's chest. Her heart quickened. She couldn't deny her desire for a baby, especially while holding Josh.

Summer rushed toward her Mercedes. She turned around at one point and seemed to hesitate, but then waved again. Odd. Actually beyond odd, but Michaela wasn't going to fight it. She was going to spend some time with Josh and she couldn't be happier to see his cherubic face and big blue eyes. "Hey, little babe, what are you doing?"

He cooed and smiled at her and she thought her heart would melt right there. To have a child—amazing. If she could feel this much love while holding her godson, then what would it be like to have her own baby? That thought brought her back to Jude and made her wonder if she should consider taking their relationship further. She knew that he wanted to. Could she allow herself to fall for him, completely and totally? He also had told her that he desired more children and he didn't mind that it looked as if she couldn't conceive. That if they ever did commit to each other then adoption might be a good option. They'd only briefly discussed it when he'd asked her about kids. She'd told him that she hadn't been able to get pregnant while married to her ex-husband, Brad. She'd endured a series of fertility treatments, which her insurance didn't cover, and at the time had caused her to go deeply in debt—this right after Brad took off with an ex–rodeo queen.

Michaela laid out Josh's blankie and some of his toys, then took each stuffed animal and made voices and faces to go along with it. The baby laughed and it was probably the sweetest sound Michaela had ever heard. They made silly voices, endured one diaper change, and then they lay on their backs and stuck their feet in the air, grabbing their toes—well, Joshy was able to grab his toes. Michaela wasn't quite so limber and wound up twisting and falling over to the side, laughing at herself. She hadn't had this much fun in ages.