The Trap (16 page)

I put a hand over hers and patted it. “I’m sorry. I won’t bring them up again,” I said.

We sat quietly for a few minutes before Glenda gently pulled her hand away and cupped her fingers around her mug of tea. “This tea reminds me of the design center,” she said. “The people I worked with were all tea drinkers, and occasionally we used to have an afternoon tea ceremony. It was great fun.”

“You miss your interior design work, don’t you?” I asked.

“Yes, I do,” she said bluntly. “But Gabe was ready for retirement and insisted that buying into this ranch was an investment we couldn’t miss. After a while, I stopped arguing and went along with his dream.”

Afterward, I thought about what she’d said and wondered how their lives would have differed if they had chosen to follow Glenda’s dream instead.

Even though I was sure that Deputy Foster hadn’t received my message, I had to know if Damien would walk into the trap. At 9:15, I drove to Mrs. Crouch’s
house and parked down the road in a spot behind some trees where I could keep an eye on the house. Since the back of the house overlooked a ravine, I expected anyone who approached it to come from the road.

I was scared and almost wished I hadn’t come. Glenda and Gabe—who was grumpier than usual—had gone to bed early. Before I left the house I’d checked my e-mail, but Robin hadn’t answered.

I have no business being here, I thought. But I had to find out if Damien would come.

The clouds were scattered, so there was enough on-and-off moonlight to illuminate the drive to the house and the area between the house and the road. However, the mesquite and oaks cast deep shadows, and I jumped, clutching the steering wheel, when one of the shadows moved.

Into my line of vision sauntered four of the cattle that roamed the ranch. Someone on horseback was herding them down the hill. I leaned back, sighing with relief. No thieves. Only cows. At the moment I much preferred the cows.

I relaxed against the seat until suddenly I was spotlighted, the area around the car blasted with bright light. The light vanished as quickly as it had come, and I realized that a car had come up behind me and parked.

Before I could react, the passenger-side door of Glenda’s car was flung open. Ashley leaped onto the seat, dropped a large handbag on the floor, and slammed the car door.

I stared at her, my mouth open. I was still so frightened, my heart was pounding loudly and I was unable to speak.

“The Crouches never had an antique silver music box,” Ashley said. “You made that up. I’ve helped Gran clean their house, and I know for a fact they didn’t own a music box.”

“I had to make up something,” I admitted.

“Why?”

“Do you know about the thefts that have been taking place on the ranch? Did your grandmother tell you?”

Ashley was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I heard there were some thefts.”

I took a deep breath and quickly told her, “I think Damien’s the thief who’s been taking small things from the houses on the ranch. You know … things that are so small their owners think they misplaced them and don’t remember when they saw them last.”

Ashley didn’t take her gaze from my face. “Why do you blame Damien?”

“He has access to the houses here. He had coffee in the kitchen with Glenda once. She told him about Uncle Gabe’s Dime Box. Later it was stolen.”

“Other people are in and out of the houses here,” she said. “Luis works for most of the people on the ranch—both inside and outside work.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you suspect Luis?”

Ashley shook her head. “No, and I don’t suspect Damien, either. I don’t understand what you’re trying to do.”

I decided to trust Ashley. I still felt guilty about hurting her, and I wanted her as a friend. Friends are honest with each other, so I was honest and told her everything.

After I’d finished, Ashley stared straight ahead without speaking. I knew she was thinking it all over.

Finally, she said, “I think the deputy is right. No one was murdered.”

“But the falls …”

“Gran told me that Mr. Crouch had dizzy spells. Their balcony over the ravine has a low railing. It was stupid for an elderly man who has dizzy spells to build his house that way.”

“Okay,” I said, “but what about Mr. Barrow and the paperweight Luis found buried under the bushes?”

She gave me a quick look. “
If
Luis found it there.”

“You don’t believe him?”

Ashley just shrugged, and I asked, “What do you have against Luis?”

“He’s a snob,” she said.

I remembered how rude Luis had been to Cal, but I felt I had to defend him. “He hasn’t been snobbish with me,” I said.

Ashley shrugged. “He’s only interested in people who are rich. Your family has money. Right?”

I could feel my face grow hot. “Dad’s a professor. Mom’s an attorney, so we don’t have to worry about paying the bills. But we’re not what I’d call rich,” I told her.

“It depends on how you look at it,” she said. “If you can pay all your bills, I’d say you were rich. So would Luis. That would suit him just fine.”

At the moment the last person in the world I wanted to think about was Luis. “Let’s not argue anymore,” I told Ashley. “I’d like for us to be friends.”

Ashley gave me a long, slow look, then opened her handbag. She reached inside and pulled out a long, thin carving knife.

I TRIED TO SLIDE AS FAR AWAY FROM ASHLEY AS POSSIBLE
, fumbling to find the latch that opened the car door. At that moment, a car swung around the curve toward us, its brights on and a row of flashing red lights across the top. It screeched to a stop in front of us, bumper to bumper, and Deputy Sheriff Foster jumped out.

“What do you girls think you’re doing?” he snapped as I lowered my window.

I gulped and pointed. “Ashley has a knife,” I said.

For an instant Ashley stared at me as if I were crazy. Then she said, “To protect us, Julie. You didn’t think I took Gran’s car and drove out here just to chat, did you? I came to protect you, just in case.”

“From Damien Fitch?” Foster kept his eyes on the knife.

“From anyone who showed up on a dark road late at night,” Ashley answered. She slipped the knife back into her handbag. “I would have brought Gran’s gun, but she keeps it locked up.”

“She has a gun?” I asked in surprise.

“Sure,” Ashley said. “For when she’s coming home late at night, like after she’s worked at a dinner party.”

I was still frightened. I didn’t know whether or not I believed Ashley about protecting me, but what Foster had said startled me. I turned to him. “How do you know I’ve been waiting for Damien?” I asked him.

“Your friend from California phoned,” he said. “Myrtle admitted she’d been hard enough on you and began to worry that somethin’ bad might happen. They both gave me your messages. Now, fill me in. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

I told him about suspecting Damien and setting a trap for him, wanting Foster to catch him in Mrs. Crouch’s house.

Foster’s mouth twisted into a sarcastic smile. “Did you think Damien would come driving down the road, park in the Crouch driveway, then just walk into the house?”

“I guess I did,” I said.

“By my reckonin’—let’s say you’re right and Damien
is
the thief—he’d park in a clearin’ that’s just up the road, then cut through the woods to the side of the house, climb up to the balcony, and enter the house through the French doors.” He shook his head. “French doors are an invitation to burglars.”

“I didn’t know there was a side way to the house. I didn’t know there were French doors,” I tried to explain.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, which is why you need to be a good girl, go home, and leave investigations to people trained to do them.” His voice was hard-edged. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You too, Ashley,” Deputy Foster ordered. “Drive your gramma’s car home now and stay there.” He paused. “And put that butcher knife—which can be a dangerous weapon—back in her kitchen.”

Ashley opened the door, but she turned to give me a pleading look before she got out of the car. “Please believe me, Julie,” she said. “I brought the knife to protect us. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

“Okay, I believe you,” I said, because there wasn’t anything else I could say. But I wasn’t exactly truthful. I still felt both uncomfortable and a little bit suspicious of Ashley.

“No stallin’. I’m about to let my temper go. Git!” Foster commanded.

I turned on the ignition and the car’s headlights and saw, in my rearview mirror, that Ashley had done the same. I waited until she turned into the Crouch drive, backed, and headed down toward the highway. Then I drove uphill. Just at the curve, I looked back and saw Deputy Sheriff Foster’s car, red emergency lights off, headed down toward the highway, following Ashley’s route.

Obviously, he wasn’t going to wait to see if Damien showed up. I grew more and more angry.

I thought of what Foster had said Damien might do
if
he came. There was a clearing next to the road. He’d park there. Well, so would I.

Slowly, I drove around the curve, and discovered the small clearing he had mentioned. My heart jumped as I saw a dark sedan parked to one side. Was it Damien’s?

I pulled up next to it and quickly got out of my car,
wincing at the light that flashed on brightly when the car door opened. For a few minutes I stood quietly, the loud beating of my heart the only sound in my ears. I didn’t dare move.

No one came, and the dark car was empty. As quietly as I could, I began to open the unlocked passenger door. The insurance card with Damien’s name on it should be in the glove compartment. If so, even though I’d still have to prove my case to Foster,
I
would be sure that Damien was the thief.

There would be another burst of light when I opened his car door, but I’d have to risk it. The trees created a screen between this clearing and the house. If he was at the house now, chances were he wouldn’t see the brief flashes of light.

With trembling fingers, I opened the glove compartment and pulled out a fistful of papers. As I read the name on them, I gasped with surprise. It wasn’t Damien Fitch. It was Miguel Garcia—Luis Garcia’s father.

A voice came from behind me. “What are you looking for?”

I let out a yelp and jumped backward, dropping the papers and banging my elbow on the car door. “Luis!” I cried out. “I didn’t know it was your car.”

He moved closer to pick up the papers and returned them to the glove compartment. “I told you to let Deputy Sheriff Foster do the investigating,” he said. “Remember?”

Nervously, I asked, “Why are you here?”

“You were expecting Damien to come,” he said.

“How did you know that?” I asked.

“Damien told me what you had said about the valuable
music box left in the Crouches’ house.” He shook his head. “That was such an obvious setup, Julie. It never would have worked.”

I was too embarrassed to think of an answer, but Luis went on. “Damien is not a thief,” he said. “He’s not intelligent enough to be a successful thief.”

I took a step toward my own car and asked, “What do you mean by that?”

Luis smiled. “A smart, successful thief takes small things that won’t be noticed, so when they are looked for, no one can remember when they were last seen. With elderly people, the plan works even better. They don’t trust their own memories. They think they’ve mislaid or lost the objects.”

“That’s exactly what happened. And all the stolen things were missed during the last two months, after Damien was hired to work here.” I took another step toward my car.

“Believe me, Damien is not the thief,” Luis said.

Bluntly, I asked, “Why are you so sure? Do you know who the thief is?”

Luis chuckled. “No, I don’t. But I’m not going to go looking for him or try to trap him. I think by now you have learned that that route can be very foolish.”

I was close enough to my car to touch the door handle. I gripped it tightly, ready to throw the door open and jump inside. I was afraid I had made a terrible mistake. “Luis,” I asked, “was Foster right? Were you burying that paperweight?”

For an instant, he looked at me with astonishment. “Don’t you trust
anyone
, Julie?” he asked.

“I don’t know why you’re here,” I answered.

“To protect you,” he said. “It’s not safe to sit alone in a car on a lonely road in the darkness of night. After Damien told me what you had said about the valuables left in the Crouches’ house, he asked me if we should suggest to Foster that he keep an eye on the house. I told him I’d take care of it. I didn’t tell him that it was easy for me to see the setup you had in mind.”

“Damien still might have come to Mrs. Crouch’s house.”

“He didn’t.”

“You can’t be sure.”

“Yes, I can. Damien locked up the pool at nine o’clock and headed for home.” Luis paused and looked at me searchingly. “Julie, are you sure Mrs. Crouch left a silver music box in her home? When I looked, it wasn’t there.”

I gasped. “You were in her house?”

“Yes. Just a short while ago, and there was no sign of the music box.”