Trouble In Spades (20 page)

Ah. I caught myself breaking a cardinal commandment. The delusion one.

Tam had never once forgotten to set the alarm.

But . . . she
was
freaked out over Leo Barker. There was always a first for everything.

I set my backpack down, dropped my keys onto it. Tiptoeing, I grabbed an umbrella from the stand by the door and set about searching the office.

Ten minutes later I'd found nothing that indicated TBS had been broken into. I couldn't shake the feeling, though, that someone had been inside. Looking for what? I wondered.

But I knew.

The pictures.

Thankfully, they were now Kevin's problem.

Grabbing a Dr Pepper, I headed into my office and called Verona Frye. It was early, but she'd insisted I call first thing. After the usual hellos, she said, "I don't think coming here this afternoon is a good idea. Roz is suspicious, and Colin said something about working at home this afternoon, getting ready for his trip."

Nothing about Claire. I wondered about a memorial service or funeral, and finally asked.

"Oh. That. Well, the medical examiner's office is holding her body until Monday. Something about the investigation. So, there will be no service until next week."

"You didn't like her," I said, then thumped my forehead with the butt of my hand. Open mouth and all that. Inwardly, I groaned. I was even starting to
think
like my mother! I shuddered. Verona said, "I'm that obvious, am I?"

I winced. "Just a little." I was hoping she'd fill me in on why, but no such luck.

"I won't miss her, and I'm not going to lie about it. And if that makes me cold, then so be it." All-righty.

"I can scan the sketch and e-mail it to you for final approval. And I'll fax the contracts to you."

She gave me her fax number, and I asked her to electronically transfer the deposit I needed to the TBS account, since we were on a tight deadline. I couldn't get started without it, and it amazed me how often my wealthy clients tended to hem and haw about paying me.

"I'll do that now," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Nina. Thanks so much."

I set the phone in its cradle and wondered what Claire had done to Verona. Immediately, my mind jumped to Claire and Colin and how closely they worked together. Maybe I was just projecting, because I'd been cheated on. But still, it made sense.

And had to hurt like hell. At least Ginger Barlow, Kevin's lover, wasn't my
sister
. I'd have probably killed Maria if that had been the case.

In shock, I sat back.

Verona obviously hated Claire. Now Claire was dead. What if she
had
been having a fling with Colin and Verona found out? That would explain why Verona hadn't seemed all that surprised to learn her sister had died.

And Roz too. I couldn't rule her out either. I couldn't imagine what it would be like to have to work with the child conceived from your husband's affair. Did it drive her to murder, though?

Shaking my head, I decided not to go there. Let Kevin deal with it. He was a good detective. He'd find out who killed Claire, why, and lock him—or her—away. As I pulled an Almond Joy from my desk for breakfast, my gaze fell on the stack of message slips Tam had put on the desk. All from Robert MacKenna. All marked "Urgent" and "Call back ASAP."

Trying to ignore my guilty conscience, I crumpled them up and dropped them into the waste can. Thankfully, I didn't have time to dwell because my cell phone buzzed. My home number flashed on the ID screen. "Maria?"

"Nina, Gracie's acting crazy."

"More than usual?"

"She keeps barking like someone's here, but no one is. Unless you have ghosts?"

"No, no ghosts."

"Then she's acting crazy."

I'd known something wasn't quite right this morning. "Take her to the vet," I told Maria. "He's got an emergency entrance."

Great. This was just like Kit, to give me a defective dog.

"What? Me?" Maria cried.

"Yes. You."

"I don't want to miss
The Price Is Right
!"

"Kit won't like it if something happens to Gracie," I warned.

"All right," she muttered.

I gave her directions to the vet. Luckily, the office was next to a mall so she knew right where it was.

"Eww, Gracie!" I heard her say. "She just upchucked. Do I have to clean that up?"

"Yes."

"Nee-nah," she whined.

" 'Bye!"

I quickly hung up before I volunteered to come home. I had too much to do, and Maria was more than capable of taking care of a five-pound dog.

And I hated that I worried about Gracie. She was starting to grow on me in a moldy kind of way. I called the vet we used for Riley's snake Xena and warned him that Gracie and Maria would be in, and then I went to work on the supply list I'd need for the Frye job.

Tam was due any minute now, and the office would jump to life. Kit and I would need to make a run to the garden center—probably more than one. I'd let Deanna and Leo hit the Frontgate Outlet. I really hoped they'd find a wroughtiron lounge chair and a matching table. I planned to send Jean-Claude out in search of a pad for the chair. He had the best eye for fabrics.

I added lantern lights to my list, which already included pond supplies like liner, submersible pump and waterfall attachment, and I tried to think of everything from field stone to the type of aquatic plants that would work best for this job.

As I worked, part of me couldn't dismiss the alarm not being set. I couldn't help but look for things that might have been out of place or even missing around my office. But like I'd told Tam the other day, I didn't think I'd notice. My desk seemed the same, nothing missing, at least. My stash of Almond Joys was still in the bottom drawer, which reminded me that I couldn't avoid Robert MacKenna forever. My conscience wouldn't allow it. Unfortunately.

I dealt much easier with avoidance. Confrontation? Ugh. He was married. M
arried
. No matter how cute he was, or how his odd quirks were growing on me, there could never be anything between us.

The cowbell jangled, and I jumped up, spooked. "Who's there?" I called out.

No one answered.

Unable to shake the heebies, I grabbed the umbrella just in case. Swallowing hard, I tiptoed to my open office door. The little hairs on the back of my neck told me someone was out there. Well, okay, that and the cowbell. Those things just didn't ring on their own.

Keeping tight hold of the umbrella, I poked my head out to look around.

"Eeee!"
I screamed when I saw someone standing outside my door.

A hand shot out, grabbed the umbrella. "Hello, Nina."

I tugged on the umbrella, but he wouldn't let it go. Probably a good thing, because I was planning on stabbing him with its sharp tip when he did.

"Why didn't you say anything when I called out?" I asked.

"Didn't hear you," Kevin said.

"Why'd you grab the umbrella like that?"

He arched an eyebrow. "I didn't want to get hit with it. I know how you are."
One
incident with a hockey stick! Jeez!

Kevin pulled the umbrella out of my hands, leaned it against the wall.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, noticing how good he looked. Too good. Ugh. I needed to get over him. Kevin tucked his hands in his pockets. "A couple things, actually."

Reluctantly, I motioned him in, went around my desk. It was safer back here. That kiss yesterday had really knocked me for a loop.

He sat, leaned forward. "About yesterday . . ."

"What about it?" I knew exactly where he was going with this, and I didn't want to make it easy for him.

"That kiss," he said.

"Kiss?" I feigned cluelessness. I did it quite well, if I say so myself. "Oh! That. I'd forgotten."

His face hardened. "Well. I just wanted to be sure we were clear that it was a mistake. Since you seemed to enjoy it so much."

"Me?" I said innocently. "You were the first one in with tongue."

"To keep up the act," he said.

I shrugged. "If that's what you want to tell yourself."

"Nina, seriously, we should talk about—"

"Why else did you come by?" I asked, cutting him off. Talking about it was the last thing I wanted to do. There was no need. I'd already stuffed those feelings it had dredged up into the Do Not Go There corner of my brain.

Looking like he wanted to argue, he leaned back in the chair. I held my breath.

"Nate's car was found this morning."

"Where?"

"A tugboat operator spotted it in the Ohio River, in Lawrenceburg. Looks like it went over an embankment."

Oh no. I swallowed hard, spoke over the lump in my throat. "Near the Kalypso?"

He nodded. "You should probably know the FBI is handling the case now. They've been nice about it, though, and are actually sharing info."

Kevin hated losing a case to the FBI. "I'm sorry." When he didn't say anything more, I found the courage to ask. "Did they find Nate?"

"No." His eyebrows dipped as he frowned. "But, Nina, there were bloodstains all over the car. And bullet holes too. Preliminary tests say it's Nate's blood. Of course, that won't be definite for weeks. It doesn't look good."

I swallowed hard. "Has anyone talked to Maria?"

"No. Not yet."

"I'll do it."

He nodded. "Soon, Nina. The media has gotten wind of it. It will be on the news tonight."

I groaned. "All right."

He stood up, stretched his arms overhead. "I better go." My cell phone buzzed. I reached for it, but stopped when I noticed Kevin staring at me from the doorway. "What?"

"Nothing," he said.

The phone rang again. Still staring after Kevin, I answered it. "Hello?" 

Noisy static filled the line.

"Hello?" I said again. Damn, I'd forgotten to check the caller ID. I needed to add "Thou shalt always check your caller ID display before answering the phone" to my list of commandments, but I was afraid I'd continuously break it. I tended to only make commandments I could keep.

"Nina." Ohmygod.

My head snapped to the doorway. I covered the mouthpiece. "Kev!" I called out in a loud whisper.

"Nate?" I said, really loud. I heard the cowbell jingle. Jumping up, I went after Kevin, only to trip on the umbrella. Holding in a groan, I covered the phone again. "Kevin!" I yelled. A second later he filled the doorway.

I scrambled to my feet while motioning to the phone. "Nate? Where are you?" I said. Kevin was mouthing "speakerphone."

I didn't know if I had it on my cell phone. I shook my head and held the phone out so both of us could listen with our heads pressed together.

Now wasn't the time to notice how soft his hair was, or how good he smelled, but apparently I couldn't help myself.

A long breathy sigh came across the line. "Hurt," Nate said. Oh God, oh God.

Empty static echoed on the line. "Nate," I said, my throat clogged. "Are you still there? Nate!"

"Maria." The word seemed ripped from his soul, each syllable sounding like it took such effort to say. "Love," he said.

"I'll tell her," I said. "Where are you?"

"Nate," Kevin said, his voice forceful. "It's Kevin. Where are you, man? We can help."

The line went dead.

Kevin said a word that would have had my mother washing his mouth out.

"He's alive," I said.

"Not for long by the sounds of him."

"What do we do?" I asked.

He stared at me, his green eyes hard as stone.

" 'We' do nothing.
I've
got to make some calls."

"What about Maria?" I asked.

He dragged a hand over his face. "You decide," he said. "You know best how she'd react."

How would she react? I wondered. Images of Maria out on a ledge somewhere came to me. "Think I'll wait on the phone call." But I had to tell her about the car. I didn't want her hearing it on the news.

"I'm okay with keeping her in the dark for now," he said. "I've got to go." He took me by the shoulders and stared down at me. My traitorous knees shook slightly. After a second he let me go, turned and walked out. A moment later the cowbell jingled.

I was not disappointed he didn't kiss me. Not at all.

I slumped in my chair. That was twice today I'd broken a cardinal commandment. The same one too.

Tam came rushing in, her hair bobbing, her smile wide, her face flushed. "Was that Kevin pulling out?" I nodded.

Tam shook her head as if trying to clear it. "I want to know, but I have to share first."

Excited, she was talking so fast her words slurred.

"Share what?"

"I found it!"

"What?"

She set a paper on my desk. "The proof I need to show that Leo is a phony!"

Picking up the paper, I scanned it. "What is this?"

"An obituary. For the real Leo Barker."

I should stay out of it.

I knew I should. This whole Nate/Claire mess was best left to the police, the FBI, heck, even Mr. Cabrera. I had no desire to cross paths with any homicidal maniacs running around out there.

I'd had my fill of those this year, thankyouverymuch.

So what was I doing driving down Leo Barker's driveway? Good question. One I couldn't quite answer, so I avoided it. Hey, avoidance wasn't one of my commandments—yet. Leo wasn't Leo. Tam had explained to me the whole identity theft process over a doughnut. Tam was convinced Leo was wanted by the FBI, and her saying that had my mind veering left of center.

I'd have confronted Leo at work, except—surprise surprise—he'd called in sick.

I turned up the driveway of the small farm Leo had given as an address on his application form. Who knew if it was even his?