Suspicion of Guilt (10 page)

She tossed him a cheeky grin. “All right. We’ll all go to Ramsey’s. Leigh can get us a discount.”

“No!” Leigh’s protest rang into the room.

“I know, Leigh.” Denni searched the girl’s face. “I was only teasing about the discount.” Leigh had worked at Ramsey’s Barbecue Shack for the four years she’d been living with Denni.

“Sorry to overreact,” she muttered. “I’m just so sick of barbecue.” Her face had drained of color over the exchange. Denni made a mental note to seek her out later and talk about what was bothering her.

“No problem. We’ll go out for seafood.” Denni glanced around the room. “Anyone have a problem with that?”

She glanced at Reece for confirmation, but his sharp gaze rested on Leigh. Denni’s stomach sank. She knew that look. Leigh’s outburst had put her back at the top of his list.

A
t the sound of the running motor in the driveway, Denni flung open the door, unable to contain the thrill of expectancy creeping through her. She’d spent all day putting together one outfit after another until she finally felt reasonably confident about the khaki capris and a black pullover top that hit the pants just below the waistband.

Black sandals, borrowed from an insistent Cate, bit the area between her big toe and the one next to it and she knew she’d have a fat blister by the time she got home. But no amount of complaining softened Cate’s stance on the matter. “Blisters are a small price to pay for beauty,” the girl insisted.

Reece was fifteen minutes late. After finally pulling an agreement from her to go out to dinner…just the two of them. As friends. So she’d expected to see his gray-and-black truck when she opened the door. Instead, a white sedan sat there mocking her.

Feeling as though someone had let all the air out of her tires, Denni stood in the doorway looking out at the beaming faces of her dad and his flamboyant bottle-
blond fiancée, Ruth. They stood on the porch, luggage in hand, wearing matching Hawaiian shirts and identical grins.

Think, Denni! Had she forgotten they were coming to visit? She searched her overloaded brain for some morsel of memory to indicate she should be expecting them. Nothing.

“Surprise!” Even her wide-brimmed straw hat couldn’t shade the excitement radiating from Ruth’s overly made-up face.

Despite her bewilderment, Denni couldn’t help but return the smile. Ruth dropped her suitcase and pulled Denni into a fierce embrace.

“Why didn’t you two tell me you were coming?” Denni locked eyes with her dad and asked the question over Ruth’s shoulder.

“That wouldn’t have been much of a surprise, would it?” Her dad chuckled, and Denni moved from Ruth’s arms to his.

“I suppose not.” Denni plastered a fake smile on her face and gave herself an inward little pep talk about grace under fire. She hated surprises. She’d had enough of them lately to fill a lifetime.

A cloud of uncertainty flickered across Ruth’s eyes. “Is this a bad time, honey? We don’t have to stay. It’s only an hour’s drive home. Maybe we shouldn’t have dropped in on you this way.”

“No, of course not. It’s just a surprise, that’s all. And that was the whole point, wasn’t it?”

Denni gave her a reassuring squeeze and snatched up the suitcase from where Ruth had dropped it. “Come inside.” She opened the door wider, relieved beyond measure that spring-cleaning was out of the way and the
house sparkled. The new stove had arrived a few days ago, and just yesterday Denni had finished painting the new wall behind the counter. So at least she wouldn’t have to explain a burnt kitchen.

“How long are you planning to stay?”

“Through your birthday at least. Your dad, here, insists you can’t spend your thirty-third birthday without family.”

Her thirty-third…? For crying out loud, she’d forgotten all about that. Today was what? May tenth? And her birthday was the twelfth. Okay. Two or three days was doable. Now, if only the household could go a few days without a disaster, maybe Denni could keep up her facade that she had everything together.

Her mind instantly swung into plan-B mode, and she started organizing. Every available bed was spoken for, so Ruth would have to bunk with her. After Keri’s complaints about their future stepmother’s wild sleeping habits last Thanksgiving at the cabin, Denni wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of sharing with the nocturnal gymnast.

“So, when are you two going to set a date?” she asked.

“You’ll have to ask your dad that one, honey,” Ruth said, casting a sidelong glance at Mac.

He scowled and Denni bit back her grin.

“We’ll decide all that in good time. No sense in hurrying.”

“Ha! You aren’t exactly getting any younger,” Ruth shot back. “Even if you are getting handsomer by the day.”

Dad grinned and winked at his fiancée. He turned to Denni. “We’ll be tying the knot before long.”

Ruth sighed and locked her gaze with Mac’s. The sight and sound of a woman emphatically in love made Denni uncomfortable, and she almost wished she hadn’t diverted attention to that particular subject.

Ruth spared her the necessity of changing the subject again. The woman stood in the middle of the room hands on her hips, and looked around, a frown creasing her makeup. “Everything’s looking pretty good to me. You’d never know you’ve had such trouble.”

“Ruthie!”

At Dad’s admonishment, Ruth’s eyes grew wide, and her hand flew to her mouth.

Suspicion shot through Denni. She narrowed her gaze. “Never know about what trouble?”

Dad scowled and shook his head. “Women…”

“Never mind all that,” Denni said firmly. “What is it that you know?”

“I’m not saying a word. We promised Keri we wouldn’t spill anything.”

“Let me guess. She told you about the problems I’ve been having around here.”

Mac stepped forward and slid his arm around Denni’s shoulders. “It’s no more than you should have done from the very first incident. Daughters are supposed to let their dads in on problems like this. Especially if they don’t have a husband to protect them.”

A sigh whooshed from Denni’s lungs. She could have done without the non-husband comment, but otherwise, relief washed over her as she leaned into the warm comfort of her dad’s embrace. “I know, Dad. But I didn’t want to worry anyone about a bunch of accidents.”

“Accidents, my eye,” Ruth said with a snort. “Honey, you’ve got to wake up and smell the coffee. Sure as I’m not a natural blonde, someone is out to shut you down.”

That was the last time she’d tell her sister anything. All she needed was three days of “you should do this, and you should do that” coming from Dad and Ruth.

Pulling out of Dad’s arms, she looked from one to the other. “How about some coffee? I just put on some fresh right before you got here,” she said, hoping they’d take a hint and drop it for now.

No such luck.

“Now, don’t go changing the subject,” Dad broke in, his green eyes narrowing, accepting no nonsense from her.

Denni returned his scowl. She gave a shrug, feeling like a rebellious teen. “What do you want me to say?”

“You can start by admitting the truth of what’s going on around here.”

“I don’t know what’s going on, and I couldn’t control it if I did know. So far I just take what comes, and quite frankly, every single incident, except for the theft, can easily be explained as an accident.”

Dad raised his eyebrow. Only one. The dreaded single-eyebrow lift could mean only one thing: he wasn’t buying it. “Do you want to explain to me how someone could turn on the water by accident? You either turn the knob or you don’t. There is no
accidentally
to it.”

“Okay, maybe
that
one wasn’t an accident,” Denni muttered. “But the kitchen fire was.”

“You had another fire?” Ruth’s gasp rang through the room like the bells at Notre Dame. “Keri only told us about the one in the laundry room.”

Denni closed her eyes and inwardly moaned. She had to start writing down what she did and didn’t tell which sister. Now she remembered. Raven had been on the phone the night of the fire. She’d called back later. That’s why she knew about it. Denni had told her not to tell anyone. Bless her; she must have actually kept her mouth shut. Of course, when it came to family ties, Raven’s rope was a bit thin, so she probably wouldn’t have told them anyway.

“One of the girls accidentally left the burner on under a teapot and it caught fire.”

“Was anyone hurt?” Ruth asked, her pale-blue eyes clouded with worry.

“No. We caught it in time. The damage was minimal and covered by insurance.”

“That’s a mercy.”

“Yes.”

“What do the police have to say about all of this?”

Denni had anticipated the question from her ex-cop dad. But she dreaded having to tell him the truth.

“Reece is still looking into the theft. But there’s not much hope of getting the stuff back. I’ve already turned that in on the insurance, too.”

“Who is this Reece?” Dad’s sharp eyes raked her face for answers. Denni felt warmth creep to her cheeks.

“Detective Corrigan, rather,” she said, even though she knew it was too late to cover up her attraction to him. Ruth’s knowing smile spoke volumes.

Apparently, Dad was too focused on the questions to worry about the implications. “Does Corrigan have any leads on the fires and flooding incidents?”

“Well, no, I…”

“After all this time? What have they been doing down at that police station while my daughter’s in danger?”

“Remember your blood pressure, sweetie,” Ruth reminded him softly.

Denni watched her Dad’s face instantly relax at the sound of his fiancée’s voice. She marveled at the love he had found with the elderly Southern belle. Ruth was a lucky woman. Denni remembered her own mother’s voice having the same effect on her dad when his Irish temper rose.

A wave of longing for her mother washed over Denni. What might it have been like to have her mother sitting in her living room, with Denni pouring out her worry over the funding for the houses and her growing feelings for Reece, a man who was clearly not suited to her? Just to shift the burden of responsibility if only for a few minutes.

Oh, Mama. I miss you.

Suddenly aware of her dad and Ruth’s presence, Denni shook off the gloom. “In response to your question,” Denni said. “I haven’t issued a report for any of them. The fire in the laundry room was contained in the trash can. Luckily, Leigh found it and put it out before it did much more than smoke up the room. I never reported the flooded basement, and the fire investigator officially concluded that the kitchen fire was an accident.”

Dad gave an old-fashioned Irish snort. “That’s a bunch of blarney. And you’re as aware of it as I am, little girl. There were no accidents here. I want that detective’s name and the number of the police station. Or better yet, I’ll go down there myself.”

The doorbell rang as if by design.

Denni rolled her eyes. “You won’t have to go down there. That’s Reece.” And only thirty minutes late.

Reece stared across the kitchen table into the wizened old eyes of Mac Mahoney and felt suddenly like a rookie cop. No, worse, he felt like Denni’s prom date getting the third degree about where to keep his hands.

He rubbed his damp palms on the front of his jeans for the third time. He gulped and couldn’t keep himself from addressing Mr. Mahoney as sir.

Denni seemed more than a little amused at his dis
comfiture, but at the same time, Reece could feel her own tension.

“I have several leads,” he admitted, not wanting to upset Denni, but feeling the need to reassure her dad, nonetheless, before he hotfooted down to the station and made a big scene. The less attention brought to the case in front of the chief, the better as far as Reece was concerned. It would be best if the chief could sort of forget about the case until Reece was ready to offer him up a credible suspect, complete with Miranda rights and handcuffs.

“What sorts of leads do you have?”

Denni gave a short laugh. “He’s hot on the trail of a houseful of college-aged girls. And one of them is eight and a half months pregnant. She couldn’t have bent over to turn on that water faucet if her life depended on it. She can’t even tie her own shoes anymore.”

“Oh, dear,” Ruth remarked, obviously either ignoring Denni’s sarcasm or not catching it to begin with. “Do you really think one of Denni’s girls is the culprit?”

Before Reece could respond, Denni stood up. “Oh, wait. He has another suspect…my next door neighbor. Just because she’s a little leery of the girls.”

Mac nodded. “That seems likely.”

“She’s eighty years old!” Denni exploded. “It’s ridiculous even to suggest such a thing. Mrs. James is cantankerous and nosy, but that doesn’t mean she’d do anything illegal to get rid of us. Oh but wait. Let’s take the heat off of her. After all, she does have a fifty-year-old daughter who is a…what did you call her? A nutcase?”

“I said she was nuts, but that’s beside the point. We have to consider all possible suspects, or don’t you want to solve these incidents?”

“Nosiness doesn’t constitute guilt.”

Reece glared at her. “I know her nosiness doesn’t mean she’s guilty, but I’m still investigating. And I don’t care if she’s eighty or a hundred and eighty, if I find out she’s responsible, I’ll arrest her.”

“And her little dog too?” Sarcasm rolled the words from Denni’s tongue.

Irritation shot into his stomach and grew to frustration. “You saying I’m acting like the Wicked Witch of the West? I’m trying to save your project. All I get is resistance. What’s wrong with you?”

“Here, now.” Mac leaned forward in his chair. “No sense raising your voices.”

Reece glanced back to Denni’s dad. “I’m sorry. But she’s so stubborn. I can’t make her admit for one second that one of those girls could have done those things.”

“Well, the theft, maybe,” Mac said. “But why try to ruin the house? They wouldn’t have anywhere to live.”

“Exactly.” Denni’s head nodded with her statement as she jumped on her dad’s support.

“I agree. And that’s where Mrs. James comes in.”

“An eighty-year-old woman?” Mr. Mahoney’s fiancée sent him a you-should-be-ashamed-of-yourself look.

Warmth crept up Reece’s neck. “I know it doesn’t seem likely, but she does have motive. She absolutely hates the girls.”

“
Hate
is a pretty strong word,” Denni said. “Mrs. James hasn’t quite been won over yet, but I think it’s just a matter of time.”

Reece shook his head at her infernal optimism. “What are you going to do, Pollyanna? Bake her a pie?”

Mac snorted in amusement.

Denni glared at them both. “I’m going to ‘love my neighbor’ like the Bible says, and trust God to make ‘even my enemies be at peace with me.’”

“Good for you!” Ruth slapped her palm on the oak tabletop. “How’s that for taking the Word and applying it to life?”

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Reece looked to Mac for support. The man shrugged. “Sure, honey,” he said and Reece wasn’t sure which of the women present
honey
referred to. “But the Word also says to be ‘wise as a serpent.’”