A Reason to Believe (32 page)

neither a trait Matt associated with him.

“Okay,” Matt said. “Spill it.”

Kiernan turned his head, his eyes wide. “What?”

“You are never this quiet. What’s on your

mind?”

“How do you know I’m never this quiet?

You’ve known me all of four days.”

Matt could see his point. “Okay, how about this?

You haven’t been this quiet in our acquaintance,

which leads me to believe you have something on

your mind. Care to tell me what it is?”

Kiernan looked down, his lips pursed. He

sighed and unfastened his seat belt before he

turned to lean against the passenger door. “Okay,

look. Before the day after Christmas, you’d never

even heard of me. Contrary to what my sister

thinks, most people haven’t. And before Christmas

Eve, you’d never seen a ghost in your life. So I

guess it’s only reasonable you should doubt not

only what I can do, but what you saw as well…”

“Hey, wait a minute. I didn’t say I doubted

anything.”

Kiernan fixed him with a pointed look. “Aren’t

you?”

Matt felt irrationally as if he’d somehow

insulted Kiernan. “Look, I’m a cop, okay?

Everything I’ve done from the day I got my shield,

every investigation I’ve ever been involved with,

was rooted in reality—what I could see, what I

could prove. I’ve solved a lot of cases that way,

Kier.”

The wonderful eyes remained subdued. “I don’t

doubt it for a moment. I’m sure you’re a terrific

detective. But how many of those cases started out

with you seeing the murder victim at the scene of

the crime, standing upright and pointing you

toward their body?”

Matt bit his lower lip. “You know how many.”

“Yeah, I do.” Kiernan’s eyes searched his face.

“Back at the library, when you found the

information about Marc Reynolds buying out the

law firm, I could feel your doubts resurfacing, the

cop in you finding a way to push back not only

what you’d seen, but what I might be able to add.”

Matt started to speak, but Kiernan held up his

hand.

“No, it’s okay. It’s not unexpected, actually,

given your background. But do me a favor, all

right? If the idea I’m a crackpot who’s one brick

shy of a load starts to enter your mind, you’ll tell

me. I can leave and let you finish this on your own

if you begin to feel like I can’t contribute

anything.”

Matt was stunned. “I’m not going to feel that

way.”

“You’re sure? You didn’t, just for a moment,

think I might not know what the hell I was talking

about when I said this wasn’t motivated by

business?”

Matt searched his eyes. “I never for one moment

thought you didn’t believe what you were saying.”

Kiernan’s eyes were shrewder than Matt had

ever seen them. “Planning to run for police

commissioner at some point, Matthew? Because

that answer was certainly politically correct.”

Matt huffed and ran his fingers through his hair.

“God, you’re a pain in the ass.”

Kiernan’s answering smile was subdued but

genuine.

“I believe, unequivocally,” Matt went on, “that

you’re convinced Abby was killed by someone

who had some sort of personal ax to grind with

her. In my experience, the murders of children are

usually motivated by lots of things but personal

hatred by an adult for a child isn’t one of them. But

it doesn’t mean I don’t believe what I saw you do,

or what I saw with my own eyes. It’s just hard to

go from a life rooted firmly in the tangible to—”

he gestured between them awkwardly, “—

whatever it is we’ve been doing for the last few

days.”

The sparkle reappeared in Kiernan’s eyes. “You

mean, besides the sex.”

Matt gave him a sardonic look, and Kiernan

laughed. Matt was relieved to hear it. “Look, how

about this? How about you allow that I’m a cop

and I allow that you talk to dead people. Between

the two of us, we’ll find a way to work together to

figure this thing out.”

Kiernan studied him, and then nodded. “You just

have to promise to tell me if it gets too weird for

you.”

Matt recalled, with a sinking feeling, what

Kiernan had said about one of his former

boyfriends, and the last half hour made sense. He

reached across the center console and, with slow,

intentional deliberation, took one of Kiernan’s

hands and linked their fingers. “I won’t lie to you.

It’s weird. But I’m learning to deal, okay?”

Kiernan squeezed his hand, smiling faintly.

“Okay.”

“And just as I’m learning to deal with what you

do, you have to accept what I do, and how I do it.

Who knows? Between the two of us, we might

make a good team.”

“I kind of like the sound of the whole team

thing.” Kiernan looked at him slyly.

“I meant the case, Kier,” Matt said gruffly, but

his chest, which had begun to feel heavy, lightened.

“Oh, that too,” Kiernan quipped. He leaned

forward, giving Matt no time to react. Cupping his

jaw, he kissed him.

Matt was ordinarily very circumspect in public.

But for just a moment he allowed himself to forget

they were sitting in the busy parking lot of a

hospital, and kissed him back.

A sharp rapping on his window made Matt

jump. Sheila was looking at him through the glass,

her fur collar pulled up around her face. A

delighted grin lifted her lips.

“Christ,” he muttered. “I’ll never live this

down.”

Kiernan laughed as Matt lowered the window.

“Hello, boys,” she said wryly. “Decide to give

the parking lot a show today? Honestly, Detective.

Such a display!”

“Stow it, you obnoxious pain in my ass,” Matt

said. “What have you got?”

She looked past his shoulder to Kiernan. “He’s

so rude. Can’t you fix that?”

Kiernan chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Matt shot a quelling look over his shoulder, but

Kiernan just smiled. He turned back to Sheila.

“Come on, already, before you’re late for work.”

“Okay,” she said, suddenly all business. “Toni

and I were going over the guest list when I

mentioned to her something about the Rolex, and

she got all excited. Tells me she has a client who’s

been coming there for years who bitches every

single Christmas because her husband always

expects her to buy him a new model Rolex. The

woman goes on and on about how expensive it is,

but the payoff is she gets a new car at the same

time, so she guesses she shouldn’t really complain.

She has to special-order the watch because the

shops in town don’t carry the full line. Toni

specifically remembers the one you told me about.

Daytona Oyster made her think of NASCAR and

seafood.”

Matt’s pulse quickened. “So? Who’s the

client?”

Sheila’s eyes were bright with barely restrained

excitement. “Samantha Mitchell,” she whispered.

“Commissioner Patrick Mitchell’s wife.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Okay, so that’s pretty damning,” Kiernan said,

chewing on his thumbnail as Matt navigated the

Bronco through the snowy streets. “But I was with

him just a couple of days after the murder. He

seemed sincerely broken up about Abby’s death.”

“The one thing I do know,” Matt said, carefully

turning a corner piled two feet deep with snow, “is

that sociopaths compartmentalize well. They’re

good actors. If he is one, he could have murdered

her and still appeared to be sincerely grieving.”

Kiernan’s expression was troubled. “I’ve

always believed I was good at reading people. If

I’m wrong about this, I’m going to have to

reevaluate.”

Matt reached across to squeeze his leg. “We

don’t know anything for certain yet. We’re still

building a case. Yeah, you’re right. It’s damning,

but there might be another explanation for the

watch. I’ll admit I jumped there, too, but there’s

something about fixing on Mitchell as a suspect

that’s begun to bother me.”

“What?”

“He was so damned fast. Whoever was

eavesdropping outside of Abby’s bedroom door

got down the stairs and out the door before I could.

Whoever it was, he was really, really agile. How

old would you say Mitchell is?”

“I don’t know. Fifty-five, maybe sixty?”

“I’m thirty-two. And I’m a cop. Could a man at

least twenty years my senior actually beat me

down the stairs and be fast enough to disappear?”

Kiernan frowned. “Not unless he’s in excellent

shape, no.”

“We’ve got to find a way to get more

information about Mitchell and those watches.”

“What if we go and talk to Sheila’s friend, the

hairdresser. Toni, right? I was just thinking we

know more about all of the pieces than Sheila

does, and we might know questions to ask Sheila

wouldn’t. Maybe Mitchell’s wife revealed

something Toni didn’t think to repeat.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Thanks.”

Matt glanced over to see Kiernan grinning.

* * *

town, sitting in the middle of a block populated by

upscale boutiques and restaurants. Matt had never

been there. Its reputation was a little too posh and

trendy for his comfort level. He’d never dropped

more than twenty bucks on a haircut in his life. But

he’d met Toni at a barbecue at his brother’s house

the summer before, so he hoped she would at least

recognize him as Sheila’s brother-in-law.

Driving was incredibly slow-going. It had

stopped snowing but the temperature had dipped

dramatically and the roads and sidewalks had

turned to solid sheets of ice. In the downtown area,

streets were reduced to one lane in each direction

and there were snow berms as high as Matt’s head

where curbside lanes should be. He was finally

able to find a parking place off the main street

about a block from Henri’s.

“Jesus,” Kiernan said as he stepped from the

Bronco and a gust of frigid wind lifted his hair. “I

think my testicles just climbed up into my

abdominal cavity in fear.”

Matt chuckled. “Lovely visual.” He cautiously

joined him on the icy sidewalk. “They’ll come

back out of hiding as soon as you warm up.”

“So you say. The poor things aren’t used to this

kind of weather. It’s traumatizing. I’m going to

expect you to check later to make sure they’re still

where they belong.”

“I can certainly make an inspection of the

general area. I’m a detective. It’s all about

gathering evidence.”

Kiernan’s laugh rang on the frosty air. “That’s

another joke, Matthew. I hope you know you’re

blowing your whole stoic-cop image every time

you smirk like that.”

“I’m not smirking,” Matt countered, but he was

pretty sure he was.

The air inside of Henri’s was warm and carried

the scents of cinnamon and hot tea mixed with

some sort of hair-processing solution. The sleek

chrome and black lacquer lobby was deserted, but

the sound of voices came from farther back in the

shop. He stepped around a divider.

Three women and one man were seated in the

back, but they clearly weren’t clients. The chairs

were turned toward the center aisle, and two of the

women were holding mugs in their hands.

“Hello,” he said tentatively. The group of

people turned.

“Oh, for heaven’s sakes.” An older woman with

sleek, highlighted blond hair set her mug aside and

stood. Matt recognized her immediately. “I’m

sorry! We were so busy gossiping we didn’t even

hear the bell. Almost all of our clients for the

afternoon have canceled, so…” She was coming

toward him, and he saw the moment recognition

crossed her attractive face. “Oh, wait. We’ve met,

haven’t we?”

Matt offered his hand. “Matt Bennett. Sheila’s

brother-in-law.”

“Oh, of course!” She took his hand. “Matt! I

remember. How are you?”

“Good.” He gestured toward Kiernan, who’d

stopped at his side. “Toni, this is Kiernan

Fitzpatrick.” Kiernan shook her hand with a

friendly smile.

“So,” Toni said, lowering her voice, “I’m