Die Job (22 page)

“I’ve played over that night so often in my head,” I said, falling into step with her as she moved through the door and out onto the steps. “I keep thinking that I might have seen or heard something useful, but if I did, I don’t know what it was. Did you see anything?”

“I was in the museum most of the evening, with Ari and Rudy.”

“So you were all together the whole evening? Even when the fireworks started?” I hadn’t seen her when I wandered into the museum.

Her tongue poked a tent in her cheek as we crunched across the gravel parking lot to her car, a white Volvo sedan. “Well, I guess each of us went to the bathroom at some point. And the kids went to check in with some of their friends. You know how kids are!” She laughed and fitted a key into the Volvo’s lock. “I don’t think any of them took the ghost-hunting thing too seriously. And who can blame them?” She arched her brows, inviting me to share her amusement at such an unscientific assignment.

“Not me,” I agreed. I dragged the conversation back to the drug study as she slid onto the front seat. “Can you give me a ballpark figure for how much a drug like Relamin would be worth if it gets on the market?”

She scowled. “I don’t have anything to do with marketing or accounting.”

“What’s your best guess?”

Turning the key in the ignition, she said, “Five hundred, maybe?”

I felt let down. Half a million wouldn’t be worth killing Braden, not for a pharmaceutical company.

“Maybe even three-quarters of a billion,” Dr. Solomon continued, “depending. And it
will
get approved.” She started the car forward, almost clipping me with the still-open door before she pulled it shut.

Five hundred
million
, not thousand. That was real money. I stood in the small lot for a moment, the wind whipping at my hair, and speculated about what kind of money Dr. Solomon got for ensuring the drug made it through the FDA wickets. I’d bet last week’s tips that it was enough to murder for. It crossed my mind that Dr. Solomon didn’t have much of an alibi for Saturday night—although she’d freely admitted that, so maybe she was innocent?—and I wondered where she’d been on Sunday night when a werewolf-costumed murderer smothered Braden. Her daughter had hosted a Halloween party for her friends. Had Dr. Solomon been there, chaperoning again? Or had she played least in sight, trusting her daughter and her friends, or giving herself an opportunity to drive to Brunswick with no one the wiser?

I HAD JUST STARTED TOWARD MY CAR WHEN THE sound of an approaching motor brought my head around. Glen Spaatz’s Corvette cornered into the lot and came to a stop in front of me, blocking my path. Looking impossibly handsome, Glen grinned from the driver’s seat, all white teeth and crisp dark hair against a red Henley shirt. His tanned hands flexed on the leather steering wheel cover. “You’re here to find fame and fortune in Hollywood, right?” he asked through the open window.

“Not hardly.” I was getting tired of people assuming I wanted to grab fifteen minutes of fame by letting Avaline van Tassel interview me for her show.

“Good,” he said, surprising me. “You wouldn’t like it. You’re much too real to fit in with the Hollywood crowd.”

“Thank you, I think.”

He laughed. “It was a compliment. You know I tried that scene
and it wasn’t for me, either. It’s the capital of fakery. Fake boobs, fake friends, fake bling, fake emotion.” A hint of bitterness colored his voice. “More fake stuff than you’d find at a drag queen contest.”

The idea surprised a laugh out of me and his grin broadened. “Hop in,” he said, pushing open the passenger side door.

“What?”

“The St. Elizabeth Sabertooths’ volleyball team has a game in Kingsland tonight. I like to go to school sports events—wrestling, soccer, baseball, you name it—to support my students when I can. Since my other option for tonight is grading the pop quiz I gave today, I’m rarin’ to go to the volleyball game.”

“But aren’t you here to do an interview for
The Spirit Whisperer
?” I asked. As the words left my mouth, I realized I was making the same assumption about him that had annoyed me when he made it about me.

“Nope. I’m here to find you. Your mom told me you were here.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because you’re beautiful and fun and I enjoy your company.”

“Oh.” His flattery and the look in his eyes took me aback.

“Coming?”

“My car—”

“I’ll drop you back here to pick it up when we get back from the game,” he promised.

Why not? I moved around the front of the Vette and climbed in.

THE CROWD IN THE CAMDEN COUNTY HIGH SCHOOL gym in Kingsland was sparse, maybe because of Horatio and maybe because women’s volleyball wasn’t on a par with men’s basketball when it came to filling the bleachers. The first game had already started when we arrived and cries of “Mine!” mingled with the thud of the ball, the ref’s whistle, and cheers and groans from parents and a handful of students. Glen and I found a spot halfway up on the right-most section of risers and sat. The ridged metal was cold and I shifted to get comfortable, accidentally bumping Glen’s thigh with my leg. Principal Kornhiser sat just behind the volleyball team’s bench, wearing a yellow shirt printed with purple palm trees. He caught my eye and waved.

“Now, he’d fit right in in Hollyweird,” Glen whispered into my ear, returning Kornhiser’s wave.

“Are you saying he’s a fake?” I asked.

“And how,” Glen said. “He’s all ‘good karma’ and ‘I’ve got your back’ to your face, but he’ll throw you to the wolves to preserve his and the school’s reputation.”

Protecting the school’s reputation didn’t sound so hideous to me, and I wondered if Glen was getting some backlash about the ghost-hunting fiasco.

I spotted Lindsay Tandy on the court immediately; she was half a head taller than all but one of her teammates. She waited for the serve, arms extended, knees bent, a look of fierce concentration on her face. The ball sailed over the net with terrific force and a blond girl got the dig, going down on her padded knees to do it. The ball popped up and another player moved into position to set it with her fingertips, floating it high and just a foot inside the net. Lindsay bounded up and smacked the ball down into the opponents’ court, palm rigid and feet four inches off the floor.

“Way to go, Linds!” The blonde high-fived her.

“She’s really good,” I said as play continued.

“The best we’ve ever had at St. Elizabeth, according to Coach Adkins,” Glen said. “And she’s a damn good student, too. Stanford recruited her, but she opted to sign with Maryland because Mark Crenshaw’s going to the Naval Academy.”

“I heard that,” I said. “It’s too bad.” I scanned the bleachers and found Mark seated alone at the far end, his eyes fixed on Lindsay as she caromed around the court.

Glen looked a question at me as the Wildcats coach waved a finger in the ref’s face over a line call.

“It’s too bad she’s letting the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing dictate her decisions,” I explained. “Chances are, their relationship will come to nothing, but she’ll be stuck with the results of the education choices she makes now for the rest of her life.” As I was. What choices would I have made differently if I hadn’t been set on marrying Hank? Ye gods. A BA would’ve done me a lot more good in the long run than my temporary MRS.

“It’s not like Maryland is a diploma mill or something,” Glen observed mildly.

“You’re right. I’m sure it’ll work out. Where did you go to college?”

“UC Santa Barbara. It’s a big-time party school, but I managed to get my degree.”

“And how did a biology major end up as an actor?” The second game had started—the Sabertooths took the first one—and I kept half an eye on it as we talked. Someone behind us was munching on a candy bar and the smell of chocolate made my tummy gurgle.

“I was ‘discovered,’ ” he said with air quotes.

“Really?” I didn’t know that happened in the real world.

He nodded. “I was working at Sea World the summer after I graduated, doing the show with the walruses and sea lions, when an agent came up to me and said she could get me work in commercials. I did a deodorant ad and a spot for Home Depot and then I landed a movie.”

“Quite the fairy tale,” I said.

“More like a black comedy,” he said ruefully. “A couple of my movies went straight to DVD and one was never released because something got screwed up with the distribution deal, and—But you don’t want to hear about all that.” He waved a hand. “Teaching is a much more stable career,” he said, eyes tracking the volleyball as a Sabertooth served it, “and I get a lot of satisfaction out of helping the kids achieve their goals, whatever they are.”

“Why Georgia?” I asked, mindful of Hank’s cautionary story about Glen. “Why not stay in California?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and I wondered if something in my voice let him know my question wasn’t as casual as it seemed. After a moment, he said with a forced laugh, “Ever seen the traffic in LA?”

I laughed with him, but I noted that he hadn’t really answered my question.

GLEN DROPPED ME BACK IN THE ROTHMERE PARKING lot—now empty except for my Fiesta—a little before seven. The Sabertooths had won the match and we mostly talked high school sports on our way back to St. Elizabeth.

“Don’t bother getting out,” I said as he cut the motor.

Ignoring me, he came around to my door and opened it. I stepped out and found my face only inches from his as I stood. “I’d take you to dinner,” he said, “but I’ve got to get on with the grading.” He leaned forward as if to kiss me, but
I reared back, bumping my back painfully against the door frame.

“Why did you kiss me the other day? In front of Hank?”

It was almost pitch-black out here with only a couple of small spotlights casting fantastical shadows from a topiary stag and unicorn, and I found it hard to read Glen’s face. His eyes seemed to hold a speculative look as he studied me. “Can’t a guy kiss an attractive woman without getting the third degree about it?”

“You just made up that bit about me inviting you in.”

“Guilty.” He backed away from the door and I stepped around it. He closed it behind me with a
thunk
. “Let’s just say cops aren’t my favorite breed and he was obviously so jealous that I couldn’t help myself. It wasn’t fair of me to put you in an awkward position—did I?—and I’m sorry.”

Honest contrition sounded in his voice and I found myself confused by him. He was handsome and fun, but he was pushing things too quickly, and even though he’d now apologized, his using me to needle Hank was off-putting. “Where were you Sunday night?” I asked.

“So, now I’m a suspect because I don’t like cops?” His voice hovered between irritation and amusement and I wished I could read his face better in the darkness.

“No, you’re a suspect because you were at Rothmere when Braden was pushed.”

“I was home—alone—grading papers. What about you?”

“Home—alone—watching a DVD,” I admitted. “I enjoyed the game.” I offered my hand. “Thanks for asking me.”

He shook my hand with mock solemnity, but there was a glint in his eyes. “You’re welcome. Maybe next time we can go to a Jaguars game, if you like football.”

“I like football.” Smiling noncommittally, I crunched across the gravel to my Fiesta and unlocked it. A bat zipped by, no
more than a foot over my head. Glen waited until I was in the car with the door locked before beeping his horn in farewell and taking off.

LIGHTS WERE ON IN MRS. JONES’s HOUSE WHEN I pulled up to the curb, and I debated going in to see how she was doing. I was tired, though—maybe from my early morning swim—and I elected to skip the socializing in favor of some scrambled eggs and toast. I couldn’t remember when I last ate, and I felt light-headed as I approached my door. A glimmer of white attracted my attention and I moved faster when I realized someone had left a note on my door. As I stepped onto the stoop, something squished underfoot.

I looked down to see a squirrel carcass, its flattened form a grotesque doormat. “Ye gods!” I breathed, almost falling backward off the stoop in my haste to get away. I frantically wiped my foot in the grass for at least two minutes before returning to the stoop, stepping carefully around the dead squirrel, to snatch the note from the door. It was only taped up and came away easily when I tugged on it.