Authors: Sherryl Woods
“Dana?” Rick called in a hushed voice.
She went into the foyer and saw him standing at the top of the stairs.
“I think you ought to come up here.”
Her heart thudded dully. “It’s not Carolina, is it?”
He shook his head.
“Then what?”
“Not what, who. My guess is it’s her husband. He looks just like the guy in the wedding picture on the nightstand.”
Dana sucked in a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them again, she forced herself to climb the steps.
“He’s dead?” she asked when she reached the top.
“Oh, yeah,” Rick said softly. “He is very dead.”
In fact, Tony Vincenzi looked as if he’d been dead for some time—a day or two, perhaps—which brought into question who had killed him. It hardly seemed likely that Peter Drake had done it days earlier, then returned to the scene of the crime for another search of the premises—not unless he was a total idiot, anyway.
Had he even seen the body? He’d been downstairs when Dana had spotted him.
She glanced at Rick. “Shall we call O’Flannery from here or tip him off after we make a getaway?”
“Your call.”
“My gut is practically screaming that we should get our butts as far away from this place as possible,” she said.
“And your head?”
“For once, it concurs. Let’s go.” At the foot of the stairs, she hesitated and glanced around wistfully. “I never got to look around down here.”
“I think we can safely assume that if there were anything incriminating in the place, your friend Mr. Drake would have found it. Whoever killed Vincenzi, my guess is that Drake was here to tidy up.”
“You think Carolina asked him for help?”
“Or whoever ordered the hit in the first place.”
“Hit? Why did you say it like that?”
“His hands were bound behind him. It looked to me as if he’d been kneeling on the floor when he was shot. Classic hit.”
Obviously she’d been too rattled by the sight of yet another body to analyze the scene. “Of course,” she said, recalling the image of the way his body rested against the foot of the bed, almost as if he’d been saying his prayers when he was shot. It didn’t surprise her, as it once might have, that his prayers hadn’t been answered.
“Two minutes in that den, that’s all I ask,” she pleaded.
“I don’t think so,” Rick said.
He suddenly grabbed her hand and practically dragged her toward the back of the house with an urgency that startled her.
“Would you mind telling me what’s going on?” she said, balking at the door.
“We’re leaving.”
“By the back door? We came in the front.”
“Just as Detective O’Flannery is about to do,” he noted with some urgency. “Apparently your Mr. Drake wasn’t quite as oblivious to our presence as we might have hoped. My guess is he gave us time to get well and truly implicated in the crime, then called the police and reported prowlers.”
Dana didn’t waste time cursing Peter Drake or the possibility of a silent alarm, which neither of them had considered. She raced out the back door, one step behind Rick.
Fortunately, he’d had the foresight to park on an undeveloped piece of land, just beyond the Vincenzis’ property line. They disappeared into the woods almost at once, making it a virtual certainty that O’Flannery couldn’t spot them, not without bloodhounds, anyway.
Dana’s adrenaline was pumping fast and furiously as they pulled away.
“Remind me to take you on a nice, tame date once all this is over and done with,” Rick suggested a few minutes later, when they’d both caught their breath.
“You sure you wouldn’t get bored with me?” she asked.
He gazed into her eyes. “Never,
querida.
Never.”
The wicked desire she saw blazing in his eyes made her tremble. Oh, yes, she thought, she was in this—whatever
this
turned out to be—way, way over her head.
28
T
here was no time to ponder what they might have done about the desire darkening Rick’s eyes, because they found Kate waiting impatiently for them in the kitchen. The aroma of food was in the air and the table had been set for four. Dana had a pretty good idea whom she’d been expecting.
“Where the devil have you two been?” Kate demanded when they crossed the threshold.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Dana replied. “Have you made coffee, by any chance?”
“I’ve had time to make a whole gourmet meal,” Kate retorted irritably. “Yes, there’s coffee and a roast and baked potatoes and fresh green beans. I was just thinking of baking a cherry pie.”
Dana grinned at Rick’s incredulous expression. “Kate cooks when she’s anxious,” she explained.
“You would not like to visit Yo, Amigo when these attacks come on, would you?” he asked, sniffing the air appreciatively.
Kate frowned at him. “I don’t expect another one. I’m demanding that the doctor give me tranquilizers, as long as Dana and I remain friends.”
Dana regarded her suspiciously. “Are you sure I’m to blame for this? I thought you had a date with O’Flannery tonight. Did you have this meal planned for him?”
Kate scowled. “Okay, yes, but the dutiful detective got a call, so I hauled everything over here, figuring maybe you could fill me in on what’s been happening. O’Flannery is as tight-lipped as a clam. He said he would come by here, when he could, if he could, whatever. I got the distinct impression that there is news.”
“You could say that,” Dana agreed. She described the assortment of dead bodies that had recently come to light.
“Holy mackerel!” Kate breathed, when she was done. “What do you suppose it all means?”
Dana glanced at Rick, then said, “Actually, I’ve been thinking about that. As weird and unlikely as it seems, I think maybe Carolina and Peter were having an affair.”
“Oh, yuck,” Kate said. “He is so...”
“Bland,” Dana supplied.
“No, slimy, smarmy, whatever.”
“Not a good candidate for an affair with the elegant Carolina?” Rick interpreted.
“Exactly.”
“So, if it wasn’t romantic, what was it?” Dana asked. “What connected them?”
“The obvious,” Rick said. “The church. They were all on the board, were they not?”
“Yes,” Dana said. “So what?”
“Have you seen any financial records from the church?” he asked.
Dana stared. A familiar tingle began, and for once it wasn’t the least bit sexual in nature. It was the reaction she always had when she finally discovered the thread that would start to unravel a complex mystery. “What exactly are you thinking?”
“Were these two in a position to embezzle church funds?” he asked point-blank.
Dana was at a loss. She had never interfered in that part of Ken’s life. “I have no idea how that part of the church’s business was conducted. The only person besides Ken who could tell us that would be Mrs. Fallon.”
“And she is conveniently dead,” Kate said. “I think Rick might be onto something.”
Dana held up her hands. “Okay, I see where you’re going with this, and it’s certainly worth checking out. It would explain why someone planted drugs. They probably figured it would make it look as if Ken embezzled the money to buy drugs, right?”
“Exactly,” Rick said.
“Okay, then, why is Tony Vincenzi dead? He didn’t even attend this church.”
“Wild speculation?” Rick asked. “He found out what his wife was up to and ratted her out to Ken. That’s why she was wailing in his office that day, because she’d been caught. In her case, confession apparently wasn’t good for her soul.”
As badly as she wanted to tie up all the loose ends, Dana couldn’t entirely buy Rick’s not-quite-far-fetched theory. “Why would they need to embezzle church funds? Carolina’s loaded. You saw her house. And Drake does okay.”
“Are you sure about that?” Rick asked. “Appearances can be deceiving. Maybe Carolina’s husband kept her on a tight budget. Maybe Drake lived beyond his means.”
“And Tremayne? Where does he fit in?” she asked.
“Maybe he doesn’t,” Kate chimed in. “Maybe we’ve been focusing too hard on him, because we don’t like him.”
“Or maybe he’s behind it all, to get money for his failed development deal in South America,” Dana said slowly.
“We need to see the books,” Kate concluded. “Or bank records. Do you have any of that stuff around the house?”
Dana shook her head. “It’s all in the church office. Even if we found the books, do either of you know anything about accounting? I certainly don’t. It’s not the kind of thing I ever investigated.”
“I do,” Rick said. “I’ve had to take a crash course since opening Yo, Amigo. The government demands very accurate records for the funding it provides.”
Kate cast a resigned look toward the stove. “That roast was destined to taste like sawdust, wasn’t it?”
Dana grinned. “Then it will be just right for that cop who stood you up.”
Kate visibly perked up at that thought. “Yes, it will.”
“Which cop would that be?” a familiar voice asked just as they reached the front door.
They found themselves facing a very disgruntled-looking O’Flannery.
“Oops,” Dana murmured under her breath.
O’Flannery didn’t wait for a reply to his question. “Now, just where would you all be off to this time?” he inquired cheerfully.
“A walk,” Kate said at once. “We were just going for a walk to work up an appetite.”
“I thought we had dinner plans,” he said.
“We did. You canceled,” she reminded him. “Your message said you’d catch up with me here.”
“And take you out,” he elaborated.
“You didn’t say that. Besides, I’d already cooked. I brought the food over here.”
He beamed. “Terrific, then we can all eat together.” His gaze settled on Dana, then skipped over to Rick and back again. “Maybe over dessert you two can tell me what you were doing sneaking around inside the Vincenzi home just prior to my arrival there.”
Dana sighed. Rick scowled.
“Who is this Vincenzi person?” he asked.
“Oh, give it up,” O’Flannery said. “I know you were there. I saw you as you made a dash for the woods. I didn’t waste time giving chase, because I knew exactly where to find you.”
Dana’s expression brightened. “Precisely. Would you have felt the same if you’d seriously thought we were fleeing felons?”
“Felons? Maybe not, but you were fleeing a crime scene. How’d you get in and why were you there?”
“Do we have to do this standing in the middle of the living room while my roast dies a little more with each passing minute?” Kate grumbled peevishly.
O’Flannery sent a warm smile her way. “Of course not. I’m sure we’ll all be much more relaxed over a nice, hot meal.”
“Speak for yourself,” Dana muttered.
“Hush,
querida,
” Rick whispered as O’Flannery followed Kate toward the kitchen. “You will stir his suspicions.”
Dana stared at him incredulously. “His suspicions are on full alert as it is. I don’t have any explanations I care to share with him, do you?”
“No, but I am very quick on my feet. There was a time when it was the only thing between me and prison.”
“How reassuring.”
He caught her hand in his and squeezed it. Oddly enough, she felt better almost immediately. Not relieved exactly, but warmer. Hotter, in fact. No, she corrected at once, that was another reaction entirely, and one that was growing increasingly troublesome.
“Ah, I see the table is already set for four,” O’Flannery said jovially. “What good planning. Or were you expecting someone else?”
“It would serve you right if we were,” Kate muttered as she began shuttling dishes of food to the table—enough food for an army, which only confirmed her earlier agitation.
His gaze narrowed. “I thought you understood that I had to go out on a call.”
“That was before I knew you were going to try to pin a crime on my friends.”
“Nobody said anything about locking your friends up for a crime,” he protested. “Besides, Tony Vincenzi was long dead by the time they broke in.”
Dana exchanged a congratulatory look with Rick. Obviously, she knew more than she’d ever wanted to know about dead bodies. A few more and maybe she’d qualify for a career in forensic medicine.
She was so intent on patting herself on the back that she apparently missed the significance of the rest of O’Flannery’s statement. Kate didn’t.
“Are you going to charge them with breaking and entering?” she demanded.
“Not if they open up and tell me what they were doing there,” he said, then gazed first at Dana and then at Rick. “Well?”
“Do you actually have evidence that we were ever in that house?” Rick queried quietly.
“An eyewitness, namely me.”
Dana gathered from the question what Rick’s strategy was going to be. She chimed in. “Where were we when you spotted us?”
“Hightailing it across the backyard toward the woods.”
She grinned. Rick looked complacent.
“Interesting,” she said. “That would be outside the house, then, correct?”
O’Flannery scowled. “Oh, no, you don’t. You two were inside. There’s not a doubt in my mind about that.”
“But you just said that you didn’t actually see us inside,” she reminded him. “You’re making an assumption based on circumstantial evidence.”
He didn’t look nearly as rattled or as defensive as she might have liked. He turned calmly to Kate, instead.
“Did these two happen to mention anything about Tony Vincenzi when they arrived here?”
“You mean that he was dead?” Kate asked.
Rick groaned.
“Oh, Kate,” Dana murmured.
Kate stared at them. “What did I do?”
“They would only have known about Vincenzi if they were in that house,” O’Flannery explained gently.
“Oh, hell,” Kate muttered, glaring at the detective. “You tricked me.”
“I was only able to do it because you’re an honest woman. Thank you. You’ll make a terrific witness.” He paused and stared pointedly from Rick to Dana and back again. “If it becomes necessary.”
Dana broke first. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you why we were there.”
He chuckled at the belated and very reluctant offer. “No need,” he said indulgently. “Remember, I was there when Juan Jesus described the woman who’d been crying in your husband’s office. I knew you’d head straight over there to confront her. I parked a block behind Rick and waited to see how things would play out.”
Dana regarded him incredulously. “You tailed us?”
“You bet.”
There wasn’t so much as a hint of repentance in his voice, which irritated her no end. “Well, given the number of reinforcements you obviously called in,” she said sarcastically, “did anybody think to tail Peter Drake when he slipped out of the place?”
The detective’s smug expression slipped just a little at that. “Who the hell is Peter Drake?”
“He’s the man who was inside Carolina Vincenzi’s house when we got there,” Rick supplied. “Too bad you missed him. I suspect he could tell you quite a lot about who murdered Tony Vincenzi and why.”
To Kate’s obvious irritation, O’Flannery shoved aside his plate and leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Maybe you’d better start at the beginning,” he suggested, glaring at Dana. “And this time, don’t leave out any of the significant details, okay?”
Something in his impatient tone suggested that there would be dire consequences for jerking him around again. Dana took the hint seriously. After a quick glance at the others for approval, she elaborated on the skimpy story they’d sketched for him earlier. When she was finished, the detective sighed heavily and stood up. After casting a regretful look at his untouched plate of food, he motioned toward the door.
“Let’s go, all of you.”
“You’re taking us to jail?” Kate asked. She seemed to have lost a little of her righteous indignation.
“Not yet,” he retorted. “Right now we’re all going over to the church office. While you’re in the vicinity, you might want to say a prayer or two that I don’t charge the whole bunch of you with obstructing justice and anything else I can dream up.”
Her temper clearly revived, Kate planted herself in his path and glared up at him defiantly. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He scowled right back. “Try me.”
Dana had the feeling that a very promising romance was about to go up in smoke unless someone stepped in to prevent it. Against her better judgment, she interceded.
“Kate, he’s just doing his job.”
“Well, it’s a lousy job,” Kate grumbled.
“Could we debate the merits of my career choice some other time?” O’Flannery asked. “Or, if you’d prefer, you three can stay here and argue about it while I go over to the church.”
“Not a chance,” Dana said, heading for the door. She smiled at him smugly. “Besides, I’m the one who has the keys.”
“The lack of keys doesn’t appear to be a real impediment with this crowd,” he retorted dryly. He reached in his pocket. “Besides, I have a set, too. It’s a crime scene, remember? Only the police have access for the moment.”
Check and checkmate.
Everyone dutifully trailed after the detective. Dana was so irritated, she was oblivious to the biting, bitter cold wind. She was imagining all sorts of dire fates befalling him, and enjoying each and every scenario, when Rick tugged her to a halt.
“What?” she asked, lifting her gaze to meet his.
“You go on. I’m going back into town.”
Given the circumstances, the announcement stunned her. She studied his face intently, but his expression was unreadable. “Why? I thought you were going to help us interpret the books.”
“I’m sure O’Flannery can do that.”
Her suspicions mounted. “And you can’t bear the thought of letting another man steal the limelight?”
“Hardly.”
“What, then? Why run out now?” She fastened her gaze on his, or tried to, anyway. He continued looking everywhere but directly into her eyes. Either they were getting too close to a solution he didn’t like or... She regarded him with excitement. “You’ve thought of something, haven’t you?”
“Maybe,” he admitted.
“Then I’m coming with you,” she said at once.