SEE HIM DIE (9 page)

“Your house burned?” Julie pressed a hand to her chest, but not before Blake saw the way it trembled.

“It’s a total loss.” A hiccupping sob echoed across the line. “Thank God none of us were home.”

“I can’t believe it. I’m so sorry.”

After another minute or so of discussion about what Morrison and her kids would do, Julie pleaded with her friend to be careful before ending the call. She passed the phone back to him. The news had rattled her. He couldn’t quite label the emotion in her eyes now. Determination, maybe?

“I don’t understand any of this.” She searched his face. “And I’m not sure whether I believe your story. But whatever is happening, there’s only one thing I care about and that’s making it stop. If you can help me do that, we’re good. If not, you’d better take me back to Mobile.”

Blake gave a single nod. “I can help you do that.”

5:00 p.m.

“Those are all the names you remember?”

Julie nodded. He’d asked that question a dozen times. The jump drive was hidden in her apartment. She couldn’t very well get to it since the police still held her place as a crime scene. The names she’d given him were the only ones she recalled. She’d told him about the conversations she’d overheard. None of it was real evidence, but she inherently understood that it was wrong.

“You heard Austin reference the list in phone calls?”

“In a roundabout way. He tried to make me believe I was being ridiculous, but I know what I heard.”

“Do you remember exactly when you confronted him about the list?”

The answer was easy. “Right before I moved out. I was sick to death of his lying and cheating. The possibility that he was involved in something illegal was the last straw.”

The truth was she’d been ready to go long before that moment. Fear had kept her in place. She’d had no idea how she would manage. She’d gone straight from her parents’ home to college and grad school, and then directly from graduation to being Mrs. Austin Barton. She was going on thirty and she’d never supported herself. Hard work didn’t scare her at all but the idea of living on the street certainly did.

Detective Duncan stood. “I could use some coffee. You?”

“No thank you, Detective.”

“Blake.”

She pushed to her feet. “Blake. I’ll take a bathroom break while you get your coffee.”

For an instant, they stood there staring at each other. Whether he believed ladies should go first or he wanted to ensure she didn’t take off on him, he waited for her to make the first move.

The tiny bathroom was circa 1950. The blue toilet and sink reminded her of her childhood summers spent at her grandmother’s. Her entire life she’d always felt safe and protected. Her family had been good people. She’d grown up surrounded by wonderful, caring people. How had she chosen such a bad man for a husband? Why hadn’t she recognized him for what he was? Sweet Jesus, he was dead. Murdered.

After taking care of necessary business, she washed her hands and frowned at her reflection. She looked like the walking dead. Dark circles under her eyes. How long had it been since she’d had a good night’s rest? Too long.

“Thank you, Austin,” she muttered. As much as she hated all he’d done to make her miserable, she couldn’t help feeling sorry for how he must have suffered the final minutes of his life. Would he have felt any sympathy for her had she been the one murdered? She doubted it. Anger chased away some of the softer emotions. He would be thrilled she couldn’t put up a fuss about the divorce.

After finger combing her hair and checking her teeth, she returned to the main room. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee filled the air. Blake stood as soon as she came into sight.

When she’d resumed her seat, he started his questions again. “What do you know about the woman he was with Friday night?”

“Barbie?”

He chuckled at the way she said the other woman’s name. “Yes.”

“She’s Barbie Sue White. One of the waitresses at the bar knew her.” The painful realization that Marie and her kids had lost their home—probably because someone wanted to get to her—made Julie sick to her stomach. She should never have accepted her friend’s hospitality. Now her home and possessions were gone. All the mementoes from her babies’ first years were lost.

How would Marie ever forgive her?

“This isn’t your fault.”

His eyes were the darkest brown she’d ever seen. Like his hair. Deep, rich brown. She wondered if he had a wife or a girlfriend. He didn’t wear a ring. Who could tell about that anymore? He could have a wife and half a dozen kids running around for all she knew.

Why in the world was she even thinking about his marital status?

Because she needed a distraction. Anything to take her mind off the reality of what was happening to her. Her best friend’s house had burned down. The man she’d married had been murdered and she was a suspect.

Oh, wait, and that didn’t even include the fact that she’d been shot at. The possibility of what could happen next terrified her.

She lifted her chin in defiance of the emotions twisting inside her. “You’re right. It’s not my fault. Now all we have to do is prove who is responsible.”

“Randall Barton.”

The certainty in his deep voice made her shiver. “Do you have any evidence at all that it’s him?” It wasn’t that she wanted to be uncooperative, but Randall had always been so good to her. Always. In subtle ways, he’d tried to make up for Austin’s infidelity and neglect. The idea that he had spoken negatively about her to the police simply made no sense. “It’s just that, he has never given me any reason to believe he’s anything but kind and generous.”

Could she trust her judgment? Probably not. She was still reeling from finding Austin’s body. The blood. She shuddered.
Austin was dead
. Austin—the man to whom she was married for three and a half years. How could she have known so little about the real man? How was she supposed to believe Randall was some sort of mobster?

It was all simply too much.

Blake lowered his tall frame into the club chair next to the sofa, his coffee cradled in his big hands. “There are whispers in the organized crime world about brothers on the southeast coast who operate behind the scenes.”

“Whispers?” Surely he wasn’t basing all he’d told her on rumors and innuendoes. He’d spent an hour telling her all the drug smuggling and nasty crimes Randall orchestrated. Where was the proof? Without evidence, even if she believed the story, Lieutenant Cannon would laugh her out of his office and right into a prison cell.

“The Bartons have always maintained several degrees of separation. No getting their hands dirty.”

“If all you say is true, you’re suggesting that someone Austin double-crossed killed him? Since I saw the list and confronted Austin, is it possible that same someone wants to make sure I don’t share what I know.”

“Possibly.” He set his coffee aside. “At this point, my instincts are leaning toward Randall as the one who ordered Austin’s death. And yours.”

He’d implied as much before, but she just couldn’t wrap her head around the idea. “Randall loved Austin. You’ll never convince me he did this.” There were some things that just weren’t possible.

Blake held up his hands surrender style. “Let’s move on for the moment and focus on what we can do.”

“I’m listening.”

“When Austin left the bar on Friday night, his girlfriend, Miss White, was with him.”

“Lieutenant Cannon said her alibi was airtight.” Julie watched Blake take another sip of his coffee. Rather than look unkempt, a day’s beard growth made him even more handsome. And there she went off into fantasyland again.

“Why don’t we find out for ourselves?” He stood.

“What makes you think she’ll tell us anything different than she did the cops?” Julie couldn’t see her talking to them at all.

“We don’t have to play by the same rules as the cops.”

“You are a cop.” She reminded him as she pushed to her feet. He’d said the same thing to her when she’d rear-ended him what felt like a lifetime ago.

“Not today.”

Wild Willie’s, Perdido Beach Boulevard

Orange Beach, 10:00 p.m.

Monday nights were ladies night. No wonder the place was packed. The dance floor was overflowing with moving bodies. Somewhere in that throng was Barbie White. If they could find her and then get her out of here without any trouble, it would be a flat-out miracle.

Julie tugged on Blake’s arm. He leaned down so she could put her lips to his ear. It was the only way to hear.

“There!”

She pointed and he spotted the bleached blonde sandwiched between two guys who were clearly hopeful the threesome would continue off the dance floor. Blake headed in that direction. Julie stopped him with another tug on his arm. He leaned down once more, bracing himself for the feel of her lips against his ear.

“You make a move for her and I’ll distract the men.”

The jealousy that had a bad habit of rearing its ugly head whenever he was near her poked him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Even in that plain pink tee and those body-hugging jeans, she was way more gorgeous than any of the other women in the place.

Rather than respond, she dove into the crowd.

“Hell.” Blake went after her.

With no choice but to follow the plan, he went for Barbie, cutting between her and the man at her back. He had his arms around her waist before she bothered to look at him. When he ushered her toward the edge of the dance floor, she finally turned in his arms and peered up at him. Recognition flared and she tried to wriggle free.

He held her tighter. “We need to talk.”

Barbie clamped her mouth shut. By the time they reached a quiet corner of the club, Julie had caught up with them.

“You,” Barbie shrieked.

“Did you kill him?” Julie demanded with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop.

Barbie’s face puckered into a practiced pout. “I did not!”

“What time did you go your separate ways that night?” Blake asked before Julie could accuse the woman of murder again.

“I’ve already given my statement to the cops.” She tossed her hair. “My alibi checked out.”

Julie went toe-to-toe with her. “Now you’re going to give it to me.”

Barbie rolled her eyes. “Whatever. When we left the bar where you work,” she sneered at Julie, “we went back to his house and had sex.”

“I’m sure that took all of five minutes.” Julie folded her arms over her chest.

Blake held back his grin. “Did Austin take you home or did you spend the night at his place?”

“He took me home about midnight. He said he had to talk to you.” She looked Julie up and down. “I can’t understand why he’d bother when he had me.”

Julie reared back, anger and confusion on her face. “Why did he have to talk to me?”

Barbie lifted one bare shoulder in a shrug. “How would I know?”

“He said plenty to Julie at the bar,” Blake reminded the woman. “Was he planning on trying to intimidate her into signing the divorce papers?”

“Let me give you a piece of advice, handsome.” She trailed a glittery gold nail down his shirtfront. “You can’t win this war.”

“This is a homicide investigation, Miss White.” Next to him, tension whipped through Julie’s body but she held her tongue. “We’re trying to find the truth,” Blake urged. “We think you can help us do that.”

Barbie glanced around. “You think the cops want the truth?” She shook her head. “This isn’t about the truth. It never is when the Barton name is involved.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Julie demanded.

Another dramatic eye roll ensued. “Did you never listen to your man?”

Julie stuck her face in the other woman’s. Blake wondered for a second if he’d have to pull the two apart.

“Why was he coming to talk to me?”

“All I know is he got a call from his brother. Randall was pissed. He told Austin he’d better take care of the situation right then. Austin took me home so he could go see you.” Barbie’s face puckered again. “You killed him.”

“I didn’t kill him,” Julie snapped.

Barbie waved her off. “The police think you did and that’s all that matters.”

“Randall sent Austin to Julie’s apartment, is that what you’re saying?” Blake asked.

“All I know is what Austin said.”

“Is that what you told the police?” Blake pressed. No wonder Cannon considered Julie a suspect in spite of numerous statements proving Julie was at the bar at the time Austin was murdered.

“Damn straight,” Barbie confirmed.

Julie turned to him. “Then why are they trying to blame this on me? I wasn’t even home until after two.”

She was right, no matter that the police were currently ignoring that glaring fact. According to his partner, the M.E. had established time of death as between one and two a.m. “It had to be Randall,” Blake warned. This time she didn’t argue.

Barbie laughed. “You think the police would dare accuse a Barton of murder? Where have you two been? Don’t you know the Bartons own this county?”

With that profound announcement, Barbie headed back into the crowd of dancers, her hips swinging in time with the music.

“You were right.” Julie looked up at Blake. Her eyes were wide with defeat. “Randall set me up.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

Midnight

Julie had never felt so alone in her life.

How could she have been fooled so badly?

It was bad enough to learn her husband had been lying and cheating basically during their entire marriage. She’d chalked up his behavior to his being a total bastard. But to learn she’d also been fooled by his brother? A man she’d thought was kind and generous. How could she have been so very wrong?

She glanced at the man driving as he made the last turn that would take them back to the cottage. Could the police really be involved in this cover up, too? Had Randall killed Blake’s brother?

Dear God. What kind of monsters had she been surrounded by?

As soon as Blake parked the car, she was out the door. She blinked back the tears as she strode toward the door. Somehow she had to make sure Randall didn’t get away with this. No man should be above the law.

Blake opened the door for her and she went inside. As he turned on lights, she walked out to the screened porch that looked over the water. It was so quiet here. Quiet and peaceful. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt at peace with her life. Maybe before her parents died. She should call Marie and make sure she was okay. Her heart still ached for the loss of her friend’s home. How could she feel such grief for her friend’s things and not feel any for her murdered husband?

What was wrong with her?

Maybe because he was a vile human being? Worse than she had dared to suspect.

“It’s been a tough day.”

The sound of Blake’s voice flowed over her, making her shiver with an awareness she had been trying to deny since the day she’d rear-ended his fancy sports car.

“I’m sorry the men I trusted had something to do with your brother’s murder.”