Shadow of Doubt (A Kali O'Brien legal mystery) (32 page)

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Carla and I had an affair. A long time ago.”

“Like fifteen years?”

The look he gave me was biting. “My wife and I were going through a rough time, and Carla was . . . well, there was something almost electric about her. At least I thought so at the time.”

George’s face no longer glistened with sweat, but he looked uncomfortable all the same. He shifted, uncrossing and then re-crossing his arms. “We’d been seeing each other about six months when she told me she was pregnant. I offered to pay for an abortion, but she wasn’t interested. I don’t know whether she really wanted a kid, or just some hold over me. By then some of the novelty had begun to wear off. I think she realized I was pulling away.”

“So she blackmailed you?”

“It wasn’t blackmail, really. Carla asked for support, and I agreed. There was always the chance she would take me to court and sue for support anyway. This way I could keep it quiet, keep Gloria from finding out.”

Sounded an awful lot like blackmail to me, but I guess maybe, like the glass that’s either half-full or half-empty, it’s all in how you look at it.

“It was right about then that my wife developed cancer. We’d tried for years to have a child ourselves. Lots of waiting and two miscarriages. Then with the cancer, she had to have a hysterectomy. Learning about Carla would have destroyed her.”

“And Carla accepted this arrangement?” I asked. I’d known a woman in a similar situation. She’d gone after the gold band as well as the support.

“Once she realized I wasn’t going to leave Gloria, I guess she figured there was nothing to be gained by creating a scene. She was already getting money. And then she met up with some new guy not long after. By the time that died out, there was a lot of distance between us.”

I’d taken a seat across the room from George. Although I no longer had my finger on the trigger, the gun was in my lap, within easy reach. As a concession to the easy flow of words, however, I’d left Loretta locked in kitchen.

“But there was no scam,” George insisted. “I never cheated my brother. I paid Carla off in cash from the business, but I kept tabs. He always got his fair share.”

“Then when he died, you did everything you could to keep Eddie out.”

“I offered to pay him fair and square, but he wouldn’t give up.” George mopped his brow. “Last thing I needed was somebody looking over my shoulder.”

“So you phonied the books. You tried to fool him.”

“I tried to protect Gloria.” George smoothed his hair, looked at me, then looked away. “Eddie wanted to examine the books. He wanted an accounting of everything. So I came up with the idea of Foothill Cleaning. I’d make a deposit into the account, Carla would pull it out. The money flowed as it always had, only now it was accounted for. I didn’t want Gloria to find out, especially now, when the cancer has returned.”

“But Eddie figured it out anyway, right?”

“If only he hadn’t been such a stickler for detail. The guy was obsessed with learning every aspect of the business. I offered him and Susie, both, a fair price. But he got this bee in his bonnet about running the business himself.”

“So you killed him.”

George blinked and leaned forward, half-rising out of his seat. A vein in his temple throbbed. “I told you before, I didn’t kill him! He’s family, for Christ’s sake. My dead brother’s son.”

“You have a pretty strong motive for wanting to see him dead.”

“I wanted to keep this thing about Carla from blowing up, but I never wanted to see Eddie dead. What do you take me for anyway?”

When I didn’t answer, George sat back and glared at me.

“You’re right about one thing,” he said finally. “Eddie figured out Foothill Cleaning was phony. Like I told you the other day, though, we’d reached an understanding. I hadn’t wanted a partner at first, and Eddie, well, he was full of crazy ideas about expanding the business. But after he found out about Carla, we had a heart-to-heart. He understood. Was real nice about it. He could have held me up for money, or gone all righteous and threatened to tell his aunt. You never know about things like this. But he didn’t. ’Course, he knew Cheryl, maybe that made a difference. Anyway, we made our peace. Hell, in the end I was looking forward to having him there. Some of his ideas were actually pretty good. Then suddenly, he’s dead.”

“You’ve got your business, and your secret is once again safe.” I shook my head in wonder. “How convenient.”

“You still don’t believe me?”

“What about the pictures of Cheryl and the other girls?” I asked.

His brows furrowed. “What pictures?” He sounded genuinely perplexed.

“Pictures of nude teenaged girls. You don’t know anything about that?”

He shook his head. “One of them was Cheryl?”

“One of Cheryl; five of other girls. Cheryl stashed the whole set at a friend’s house right after she saw Eddie last Saturday morning.”

I watched George carefully. Not a hint that any of it sounded familiar. I ran a what-if by him anyway. “Cheryl’s your daughter. Eddie’s involved her in something sleazy. Seems like that might be another reason you’d want to see him dead.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know anything about any pictures, and I didn’t kill Eddie. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

I leaned forward. “Why did you and Gloria postpone your flight to Tucson at the last minute?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You were supposed to leave Saturday morning, then you changed plans at the last minute and didn’t leave until Sunday.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you had everyone believing you were in Tucson, while in truth you were still in town when Eddie was killed. That’s another convenient coincidence, don’t you think?”

George tugged at his pants’ leg and coughed. A dry, hoarse cough that brought a pink flush to his cheeks. “I was having prostate trouble,” he said, averting his eyes. “We changed our flight so I could see the doctor. You can call him and check.”

The guy looked embarrassed enough, maybe that part was true. “And what about me? What about this stuff with my car?”

The pink flush grew deeper. “Like I said, it was a stupid idea. Jannine mentioned that you had Eddie’s files, and then at the funeral you started asking all those questions about the tavern. And you mentioned Cheryl. Last night, when you showed up with a newsman, I was already getting antsy, and then this morning I get a frantic call from Carla. I figured you were ready to blow the whole thing. I guess I panicked.” He looked at me. “Carla made it sound so simple. She probably got the idea from one of those idiotic television shows she watches.”

“Were the fish guts her idea, too?”

“What are you talking about? What fish guts?”

“And earlier this evening, were you only trying to scare me when you practically ran me over? You could have killed me, you know.”

George shook his head in bewilderment. “Either you’ve got a good imagination, or there’s something going on here I don’t know about. I was at the tavern all evening. Ask anyone there.”

“And you don’t know anything about a florist’s box filled with fish entrails?”

George choked. His complexion turned from pink to green. “You think I’d get involved in something like that? I can’t even cut up a raw chicken without feeling sick.” We eyed each other warily.

“What kind of car do you drive?” I asked finally. I was suddenly aware that the answers weren’t coming the way I wanted them to.

“A Toyota.”

“What color?”

“Maroon. It’s parked down at the bottom of the hill.” He paused. “Look, if you call police on this, they’ll make a formal report and that will lead to all kinds of trouble. There’s no way I could keep something like that from Gloria, even if it didn’t make the papers.” His voice was strained, his tone almost pleading. He looked like a man cornered.

I hesitated.

“Please. Think about Gloria, about what it would do to her. I am sorry about your car, really. I’ll have someone come out and take care of everything.”

I was angry about the car, but involving the police wasn’t going to get it fixed any quicker. And I’d taken a liking to Gloria when I met her. Besides, I was inclined to believe George. As far as his story went anyway. It made sense, though it left a lot of questions unanswered as well.

I looked toward the phone in the kitchen while I weighed my options. George shifted uncomfortably on the couch.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he croaked. “I promise.”

In the end, I didn’t make the call. Instead, I had him hand over his wallet and ruby ring, for security in case his story didn’t check out. Then we walked together to his maroon Toyota, George in front, me following with the gun. He got in and drove away. I watched until the car disappeared from sight.

Chapter 25

It had been a long night. I was still asleep when the doorbell rang a little after eleven the next morning. Groggy and sore, I hobbled to answer it.

Ken greeted me with a smug smile and a peck on the cheek. “Surprise!”

“What are you doing here?” I squinted at him with my one good eye.

He looked as though he were on his way to a polo match. Khaki slacks, crisp white shirt, blue pullover looped around his shoulders. It was a look he carried well.

“You couldn’t make it to San Francisco, so I came here instead.” The tone was jaunty, but there was an unfamiliar tightness to his voice. Even the smile was more restrained than usual. “It was kind of a last minute decision. I tried calling last night, but I guess you were out.”

We moved from the doorway into the living room. I got another kiss, but it wasn’t any more impassioned than the first. Ken sat and began drumming his fingers on the table top.

“You have any coffee? I could use a cup.”

“Actually, I don’t. I threw away my father’s jar of instant when I cleaned out the kitchen, and I’ve run out of the good stuff from home. I could make tea, though.”

Ken stopped his drumming. “How about I take you out for lunch instead?” He paused and raised an eyebrow. “Or is it breakfast?”

“I had a very late night,” I said, deciding to leave it at that. “And I’d love to go out for something to eat. I don’t think there’s much of anything in the house.”

His gaze drifted away and then back again. He’d been casting surreptitious glances at my swollen eye and scraped cheek since the moment I’d opened the door. Finally, curiosity got the better of good breeding.

“What happened to your face?” he asked, staring openly. “An accident? I saw the car window on my way in.”

“The two things are unrelated.” It was an observation which offered little comfort. If George was telling the truth, there was still someone wandering around who wanted me out of the picture, one way or the other.

Ken scrunched up his face and waited.

I opened my mouth to explain, then shut it again. The truth required more explanation than I had energy for. “The car was an accident,” I told him. “As for my face, I fell.” I headed for the bedroom. “Just give me a minute, and I’ll be ready to go.”

I left Ken to his own devices while I took a quick shower and got dressed. My face looked worse than it had the night before, and make-up didn’t help much. It hurt too, as did my whole body. I ached in places I didn’t even know I had.

When I returned to the living room, I found Ken sitting on the sofa, right where I’d left him. He was rubbing his temples with his fingertips, but glanced up when I came in. “All set?”