Seconds to Live (Scarlet Falls) (11 page)

“How well did you know her?” Stella asked.

Gianna lifted a bony shoulder. “She was nice. She gave me a ride sometimes. I know she worked a lot, but I don’t know much about her personal life.”

Stella pressed. “Did she seem upset lately or show any signs of relapsing?”

“No.” Gianna’s hair swayed as she shook her head. “Missy seemed pretty solid.”

“How often do you go to NA meetings?” Mac asked.

“I try to go a couple of times a week, depending on how tired I am or if I feel like walking. Otherwise I have to get a ride, and a lot of members don’t like to give out their cell phone numbers. Missy did, though. She was sweet.”

“We’re doing everything we can to find out who killed her.” Stella stood and picked up Gianna’s pasta. “I’ll put this in the fridge for you to heat up later. You know you can always call me for a ride.”

“Thanks.” The girl’s eyelids drooped. “You do enough for me.”

Mac jotted his cell number on the back of an envelope on Gianna’s table. “You shouldn’t be walking around alone in the dark. Call me if you ever need to go and don’t have a ride.”

She smiled, but her eyes were sad. She turned to Stella. “You have hit the mother lode, girlfriend. He is definitely not just a pretty face.”

Mac laughed. “I only have my Harley right now. So you’d have to ride on the back of that.”

“Seriously?” Her eyes brightened. “That’d be so awesome.”

“Anytime.” Mac wondered what would have become of him if Lee hadn’t straightened his ass out. Would he be dead or homeless?

“I wish I wasn’t so . . .” Gianna’s fist curled around the edge of the blanket. “Helpless.”

“Everybody needs help now and then. There’s no honor in going it alone.” A lesson Mac had learned the hard way. He pushed the piece of paper toward her. “Put my number in your phone. No more walking alone at night.”

She took the number, picked up her cell, and input his number with her thumbs. “Thank you.”

His phone chimed with a text. Mac’s screen read:
Gianna :)

“We need to go. Lock up behind us before you fall asleep.” Stella led the way outside. They waited to hear the deadbolt turn in the lock before walking back to the car.

“How long has she been waiting for a kidney?” he asked.

“Probably only six months, but to her it seems like forever. Dialysis is miserable.” Stella glanced back at the apartment building.

“Can we go interrogate Adam Miller now?” Mac wanted to see this guy, badly.

“Oh, yes.” Stella slid behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. “It’s time.”

Mac opened the file on Dena Miller and checked Stella’s notes. “If he had something to do with his wife’s disappearance, why would he call the police?”

“Hard to explain his wife’s sudden absence.” Stella pulled out onto the street.

Mac looked up from the file and caught Stella’s glare. “Or he wants you to find her for him.”

Her brows shot toward her hairline. “That would be particularly devious.”

“It would,” Mac agreed. “No chance she ran?”

“Naked?” Stella’s brows rose again.

“Maybe they fought and she didn’t have time to grab clothes.” Mac scanned her perfect penmanship. “Your notes from his interview say Dena has no close friends or family.”

“
According to her husband
, she has no close friends or family.” Stella made a right turn and the car leaped forward. “But maybe Dena kept secrets from Adam. What time is it?”

“Just after one.”

Stella pointed at the case file. “Can you call the clubhouse restaurant and find out what time he paid his check? They were closed yesterday when I called.”

“On it.” Mac made the call. The hostess had heard about Dena Miller’s disappearance and cooperated. “She says he paid the bill with a corporate credit card at twelve thirty p.m.”

She banged a fist on the steering wheel. “That’s two hours before he said he left.”

Her phone rang. She answered on speaker. “Detective Dane.”

“Have you made any progress on finding my wife?” A man’s tinny voice emanated from the cell’s small speaker.

Stella lifted the phone toward her mouth. “Hello, Mr. Miller. Are you at home?”

“Yes.”

“I’m on my way to your house right now to give you an update.” Stella ended the call and glanced at Mac. “He’s already lied to me twice, so let’s go see what Adam Miller is hiding.”

Chapter Sixteen

Stella parked the car at the curb in front of the Miller’s house. “You need to keep a low profile. My boss specifically doesn’t want you going all rogue.”

“Rogue?” In the passenger seat, Mac lifted his sunglasses. Humor glinted in his eyes.

“His word, not mine. Please, just don’t do anything that will get me fired.” Exasperated, both with his smart-assery and her attraction to it, Stella got out of the car. “How should I introduce you?”

“However you want. Just don’t call me agent anything.”

She looked at him over the roof. “If you’re worried about your cover, you probably shouldn’t be with me.”

“Probably not.” Another evasive answer.

Which she wasn’t going to accept. “Is this dangerous for you?”

He considered her question for a few seconds. “I’m not particularly worried about my cover in Brazil. But years ago, I was tight with a pretty nasty gang. They might consider my association with a cop as a betrayal.”

A real answer. She was making progress. “And if they found out you were DEA?”

“They’d kill me,” he said with complete certainty before walking off.

Stella rushed to keep up with his long strides. “Do you want to elaborate on that?”

“Not now.” Mac walked off, circling the house.

Stella swallowed her frustration. He’d opened up more than she’d expected. From the regretful frown on his face, maybe he’d shared more than he’d intended. She’d try for more information later. She’d need to be patient. Maybe sneaky.

They made a complete circuit and ended up on the front walk.

He scanned the ground and the exterior. “Any sign of forced entry?”

“No.” Stella studied the tall hedges that lined the property lines. “But the landscaping was designed for privacy. Once he pulled his car into the driveway, he’d be shielded from view.”

“Carrying a woman out of her house in broad daylight is still bold.”

“Yes,” she said. “Disturbingly so.”

Mac hung his sunglasses on the front of his T-shirt. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he assessed the scene. “He feels like he can’t be caught. Is he arrogant or self-righteous?”

“Maybe both.”

Adam answered on the first knock. His face was puffy, his eyes bagged, and his breath smelled as if he’d drank whiskey for breakfast then gargled with coffee. Wrinkles creased the front of his tan slacks, and his hair was mussed.

Stella would have pitied him if he weren’t a liar.

“Come in.” He gave Mac a questioning look.

“This is Mr. Barrett. He’s offered his assistance. He helped me find several people last fall.” That was close enough to the truth that saying it didn’t give Stella hives.

Adam shook Mac’s hand and led them back to the kitchen.

Stella stood at the counter in front of a stack of posters emblazoned with “Missing” and Dena’s photo.

Scanning the rooms, Mac wandered into the adjoining living room. He stopped in front the shelving unit full of pictures and studied at each photo.

“Have you found any sign of my wife?” Adam asked, keeping one suspicious eye on Mac.

“Not yet,” Stella answered. “We’re retracing her movements yesterday. Her photo has been distributed in a statewide bulletin. Every state, county, and local law enforcement officer on duty is on the lookout for her.”

“I put up fliers all over town this morning.” Adam spun. His lips flattened into a white line. “What about forensics?”

Everybody was an expert on police work.
Damn CSI.

“Our techs are still sorting through the evidence,” Stella said.

Adam’s frown deepened as he continued to pace back and forth across the tile floor. “You don’t have any clue where Dena is, do you?”

“Not yet,” Stella admitted. “But I have a few follow-up questions for you.”

He paused, turning to face her again. “Of course. I’d do anything to find her.” But his shuttered eyes contradicted his offer.

“You kept very close tabs on your wife.” Stella leaned a hip on the counter and relaxed her posture. She didn’t want Adam on the defensive. “We’ve talked to a few people who commented that you frequently checked up on your wife’s whereabouts.”

“I love my wife.” He smoothed his disheveled hair. “Since her fall, I worry about her constantly.”

Stella zeroed in on his guilt. “Did you call the spa yesterday while your wife was there?”

He glanced away. “I might have. I don’t remember.”

“How about her physical therapy office?” Stella pressed.

“I did call
them
,” he admitted. “But they wouldn’t tell me if she’d been there, so it hardly matters.” Anger tightened his eyes before he reined it in. He smoothed a wrinkle from the front of his slacks.

“Except that you lied in your statement,” Stella pointed out.

“I was upset when I spoke with you yesterday.” He enunciated each word distinctly. “I didn’t lie. I forgot.”

Stella did not buy that for one second. “How closely did you monitor Dena’s activities?”

“I like to know where she is.” Adam’s eyes narrowed with suspicion and his upper body tilted toward Stella. “What are you implying, Detective?”

He was playing the devoted spouse well, but Adam Miller set off Stella’s creep alarm. There was something about him that just wasn’t right, as if he straddled the line between love and obsession.

Stella met his aggressive posture with a small step forward. “Did you get angry with her? Did you hit her?”

Tension sharpened his tone. “Why would I hurt the woman I love?”

Not quite a denial. It happened all the time.

Stella watched his eyes as she delivered the next statement. “You said you left the restaurant at two-thirty yesterday, but the club says you paid your bill two hours before that.”

“I walked my client to his car. We talked for a while in the parking lot.” He waved off her comment as trivial, but his gaze held hers. Behind his anger, Stella saw arrogance.

“Can you give me your client’s name and number?” Stella asked.

“No.” Adam’s face darkened. At his side, his right hand curled into a tight fist. The knuckles whitened. “I won’t have you ruining my career. I didn’t have anything to do with my wife’s disappearance. I’m the one who called you to find her.” The veins in his neck protruded and his mouth went tight with fury. “What is wrong with you? Why don’t you understand how much I love my wife?”

Just how violent was Adam Miller? There was one way to find out. Stella let her voice rise. “You’re missing two hours yesterday afternoon. Did you and Dena have a fight? Did you hurt her and call us to cover your tracks?”

“How dare you!” Adam exploded. Two rapid strides brought him across the six feet of space that separated them.

Balanced on the balls of her feet, Stella prepared to counter if he actually struck out at her. But a fast-moving body collided with Adam and knocked him out of the way. Adam careened sideways and landed in a sprawl on the tile. Mac had been so quiet, she’d forgotten he was in the next room, but obviously he’d been paying close attention. He’d knocked Adam on his butt.

“What the fuck?” Rolling onto his back, Adam rubbed his hip.

Stella tugged on Mac’s arm, but she might as well have been trying to move an oak tree. He glared down at Adam. “I could ask you the same thing. Assaulting an officer will get you arrested.”

“I didn’t touch her.” Adam scrambled to his feet. Leaning around Mac, he jabbed a finger at Stella. “I’m calling my lawyer. Your boss is going to hear about this. Next time you want to interrogate me, make an appointment.”

Stella ignored the threat. With Mac impossible to budge, she walked around him to confront Adam. “You came right home after you left the golf course yesterday?”

Fuming, Adam leaned closer. Then with a quick glance at Mac, he backed off. “You’re wasting your time questioning me while my wife is in danger.”

“In that case, the faster I rule you out as a suspect, the faster I can pursue other lines of investigation,” Stella said in a quiet voice. “Lying to me complicates the process.”

“My wife is missing, and you’re fucking around investigating me instead of looking for her.” Despite his protest, Adam scrawled the name and number of his client on a business card. “Find my wife.” He thrust it into Stella’s hand as she and Mac turned toward the door.

“Why didn’t you bring him in?” Mac asked when they were settled in the car. “Questioning him at the station might take away his arrogance.”

“Because thanks to you, he’s already screaming for his lawyer.” Stella turned to face him. “I don’t have any evidence that he had anything to do with his wife’s disappearance.”

“He’s lying.” Mac’s voice flattened.

“The two discrepancies in his original statement are explicable,” Stella reasoned. “Or at least that is what an attorney will say.”

Mac snorted. “He’s hiding something.”

“Thanks to your reflexes, I can’t arrest him for assaulting an officer. You body-blocked him before he touched me.”

“Sorry.” But Mac’s tone didn’t sound apologetic. “Instinct.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but you can’t feel as if you have to protect me. I provoked him intentionally. I wanted to see if he’s a violent man. If he had taken a swing at me with you standing a few feet away, that would have told me he was impulsive and doesn’t have a good handle on his temper. I would have known he was capable of hitting a woman. I would have taken him to the station. A possible assault charge would have given me leverage.”

“I didn’t want him to hit you.”

“I understand that, but you have to trust me to do my job. I was ready for him. If he’d tried to strike me, he would have found himself facedown and in handcuffs before he could blink.” But frankly, Stella would have taken the blow if it helped her find Dena Miller.

“Antagonizing him wasn’t necessary.”

Anger heated Stella’s face. “Adam Miller is controlling and arrogant, and I know he’s hiding something. But I’m not concerned with him.
I
want to find Dena. She’s been missing twenty-four hours. Time is running out. I need to know if Adam hurt her or some other man took her.” Stella jammed the key into the ignition. “Every minute that passes decreases the chances of finding her alive.”

Mac rubbed his face. “I’m sorry.”

Stella turned to face him. “Look, if we’re going to continue this . . .” she gestured between them, “arrangement, then you have to trust my training. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I’m defenseless.”

“I grew up with Hannah.” Mac snorted. “I have the utmost respect for a woman’s ability to kick ass. Trust me. I don’t think of women as defenseless.”

“I guess not.” Stella pulled away from the curb. She had nothing but respect for Mac’s sister, who really could kick butt.

Mac rubbed his chin. “Did you notice anything strange about the pictures in the Miller’s house?”

“Like what?”

“There are no other people in them. Not a single friend. No one. Every picture in that house is of Dena and/or Adam.”

“He said they don’t have any close family or friends.”

Mac shook his head. “She didn’t have a single family member? I’m not saying it’s not possible, just not probable. People who don’t have much family tend to have a few close friends.”

“Maybe she’s an introvert.”

“Maybe.” Mac nodded. “I also noticed from the photos that she’s an experienced hiker.”

“Adam says her neck injury kept her to short distances.”

Mac shrugged. “We’ve already established that they were less than honest with each other. She could be in better shape than he knows.”

“True.” Stella turned out of the development. “But you saw a naked woman four miles from her house in a storm. That seems quite a distance. And if Dena left her husband, wouldn’t she have gotten dressed first?”

Mac considered her argument. “Unless she was desperate and didn’t have time to grab clothes.”

“In which case, she wasn’t walking. She was running away. But that seems like a stretch.” Stella’s gut insisted that Dena had been violently taken from her home. But Mac was forcing her to see other possibilities.

“What now?” Mac asked.

“Now I go back to the station and fill out some paperwork.” Stella texted Brody the information on Adam’s alibi.

“Fun,” Mac teased.

“It’s exactly as exciting as it sounds.” She needed to update her files with today’s interviews, and she and Brody needed to compare notes. “Do you want me to drop you home?”

“Please. I need to head over to my brother’s house, where I will be tormented for shaving.”

“Siblings.” Stella grinned.

“Exactly.” Mac squinted out the window.

She drove out to Mac’s house.

“See you tomorrow.” His gaze dropped to her lips for a split second before he reached for the door handle, and she wondered if he wanted to kiss her.

Not professional.

But Mac seemed to bring out every inappropriate thought she could possibly have.

“Yes. Good night.” After he’d gotten out of the vehicle and disappeared inside his cabin, Stella turned the air-conditioning vents toward her face. She was halfway back to the police station when her cell buzzed. She picked it up. Gianna’s phone number was displayed on the screen.

“Hello,” Stella answered the call.

Gianna didn’t bother with niceties. “I was getting ready to go to my NA meeting tonight, and I remembered something I should have told you this morning. I saw this guy hanging around outside when I went into the last meeting.”

Stella grabbed for her notebook and pen. “Can you describe him?”

“About six feet tall,” Gianna said. “Thin, short hair.”

“Where did you see him?” Stella asked, excitement humming in her blood.

“Thursday night at the Catholic church.”

“Was he at any of the other meetings?”

“Not that I noticed.”

“Do you have a meeting schedule?” Stella asked.

“It’s posted on the local NA group website.” Gianna rattled off a web address.

Stella put the call on speaker and accessed the site on her smart phone. There were multiple meetings listed every day in the region, which covered the tri-county area. A recovering addict with a car could find a meeting every single day if that’s what he needed.