The Opposite of Dark (24 page)

“Possibly. Did you find Marcus's old address book?”

“Yes, and I gave it to Detective Lalonde.”

“What for? There may be a clue to the money in it.”

“There isn't. And I'm tired of all the lies and secrets, Theo. Dad wasn't murdered. He ate tainted mayonnaise in a restaurant.”

“Casey,” Theo said, putting his hands on her shoulders, “Marcus's poisoning was no accident. He was deliberately given contaminated food.”

“Bull. Mother said you lied about the timing of Dad's death to get me involved so I'd lead you to the money. This is just another pathetic attempt.”

“No.” He relaxed his grip. “Haven't you wondered why Marcus was the only one who got sick?”

“He wasn't the only one, there was—”

“Simone Archambault, yes. She was with Marcus and saw him in the hospital. That's why I needed to talk to her. I think she disappeared because she knew something about Marcus's murder. It would explain why Darcy killed her.”

“Darcy?” Casey's heartbeat quickened. “Are you saying he killed dad?

“He always denied his involvement. Claimed he'd gone to Paris only to talk to Marcus, but I spoke to the waiter who served Marcus and Simone.” Theo paused. “The waiter told me he was paid to give Marcus a special salad dressing, as a joke.”

“Who paid him?”

“He wanted more money before he'd give me a name. I agreed, but then the waiter's body showed up in the Seine. He's the suicide victim you mentioned in Paris.”

“Oh, god.”

“I wouldn't be surprised if the idiot had tried to extort more money from Darcy in exchange for silence.”

A police cruiser headed toward them, at last. Theo had his back to the vehicle.

“Did you confront Darcy about Dad?”

“There was no point without proof, which I now have. It's why I had to see you.”

“What's the evidence?”

The cruiser pulled to a stop. The ladies rose from the bench and waved Casey over.

“Listen, I won't be long,” she said to Theo. “Could you wait?”

“Actually, I think I know where Darcy might be,” he checked his watch. “I'll call you soon.”

As Casey watched him head down the street, she wondered if Theo had told the truth about Darcy. Either way, both of those guys were bad news.

FEELING A LITTLE
revived after a nap, Casey sat on the yoga mat, legs stretched out, feet flexed, and arms high over her head. She took a deep breath and then bent forward until her hands gripped her calf muscles. The seated forward bend was supposed to help a distracted mind relax. Right now, she'd use any help she could get.

Stan hadn't been happy to hear about the purse thief's escape. The yelling hadn't bothered her—she'd expected that—but his decision to put one of the part-timers on the case sure had. His excuse was that the suspect might recognize her, even though she'd assured Stan that the kid hadn't looked at her as he ran.

She'd studied the suspect's file again to see if she'd missed something, but there was nothing new. Maybe she'd stake out Vancouver Technical Secondary tomorrow and the bus stop nearest the school.

Casey still marveled at the suspect's speed; “a regular track star,” Wesley had said. Casey sat upright. Wait a sec, the kid did have a smooth, efficient running style. She recalled how he'd pumped his arms when he ran, how he'd kept his head up and shoulders relaxed. The guy must have had some track and field training. She knew a little about running, thanks to Greg's fifteen-hundred-meter races in high school. This was late May, still track and field season, wasn't it? Greg's track meets had usually been in spring. Tomorrow, she'd check out Van Tech's sports field.

The phone rang. Casey rolled out of her shoulder stand and hurried to answer it.

“This is your mother. Darcy wants to talk to you.”

“He can talk to Detective Lalonde.” Casey's jaw clenched. “A woman named Simone Archambault was murdered last night and Theo thinks Darcy has something to do with it. Maybe you can persuade Darcy to turn himself in. After all, he is your boyfriend, isn't he?”

A long pause. “Theo told me what happened last night. I'm sorry you had to go through that.”

She wasn't denying her relationship with Darcy—god. “Gee, thanks. So what does Darcy have to say about it?”

“He says Theo killed her and he wants to tell you what he knows to clear his name. Darcy says he has proof Theo did it and he wants you to give it to the police.”

The tension in Mother's voice made Casey nervous. “I can understand why he doesn't want to see them, so why don't you take the evidence to Lalonde?”

“I suggested that, but he was adamant that you meet him at the house.”

“No.”

“Casey, listen to me. Darcy said he'd hurt Summer if you didn't show up.”

Casey inhaled sharply. “What?”

“I'm sorry, but his search for the money is making him desperate. I'm suggesting you go, but that you have Detective Lalonde meet you there.”

“I don't—”

“Please, Casey, for Summer's sake, and Rhonda's and mine, I'm begging you to meet him at six. Call Lalonde.”

“Why can't you?” The question was barely out of her mouth before Mother hung up.

Fear coursed through Casey. Had Darcy threatened Mother? Forced her to make the call? Casey checked her watch; almost four now. Lord, she didn't want to go there and especially not alone. She needed to talk this over with someone she could count on. She dialed Lou's number and sighed with relief when he answered.

“How was your meeting with Simone last night?” he asked.

“It didn't happen.”

After she described events, Lou groaned. “I don't believe it.”

“There's more.” Casey hesitated. “Mother just phoned and begged me to meet Darcy at Dad's house in two hours.”

“You're not going, are you?”

“I have to. She said Darcy would hurt all of us if I didn't, but she did say I should bring the police, and I was wondering if you'd go with me, kind of as second pair of eyes.”

“Have you told Detective Lalonde yet?”

“That's my next call.”

“Casey—”

“You wouldn't have to face Darcy. I'm just looking for a little moral support. We'll take off the second Lalonde shows up.”

“You know I'd do anything for you,” he said, “but—”

“Great, I'll pick you up in an hour.”

She hung up before he could finish turning her down. She wouldn't have much time to convince Lou that she needed his help to do this and that she was running out of courage fast.

After wolfing down a mini microwave pizza, Casey hurried downstairs and found Rhonda stirring something garlicky on the stove.

“Summer will be back from Whistler soon,” Rhonda said. “Want to have supper with us?”

“Thanks, but I just ate and I'm on my way to see Lou.”

“You've been avoiding me all day.” Rhonda glanced at her.

“Sorry, but I've been really busy.”

“Do you know if the police have arrested anyone for that poor woman's murder?”

“No.” Late last night, after she'd told Rhonda about Simone, they'd cried. She hadn't wanted to rehash the whole thing again today. “But I did learn one interesting bit of news.” And Rhonda wasn't going to like it. “Darcy and Mother are lovers.”

“What a lot of bull crap.”

“It's true.”

Rhonda's paling face made the blue smudges under her eyes turn dark plum. “Who told you that?”

“Theo Ziegler, and Mother sure didn't deny it when we talked on the phone a few minutes ago.”

Her hip bumped against a chair. “They're playing games with you. Isn't Ziegler the man you saw running away from this house last night?”

“Yes, but now I'm not so sure he's the killer. In fact, Darcy's a suspect, too, and last I heard he's avoiding the police. Now that Lalonde has a man watching this place, I doubt Darcy will be back. Please, Rhonda, you've got to believe me. The guy's no good.”

Rhonda bit her lower lip. “I suppose Lillian's the one he's been phoning so much. I'm throwing that shithead's junk on the street.” She started to pace the room, then stopped. “If Darcy's involved in crime, chances are Lillian is too. God, what if they both killed Marcus?”

“Which is why I need to know how deeply Mother's involved. I'm going to search her place tomorrow, whether she's there or not.”

“Not smart, Casey.”

“There's not a lot of choice here. Mother is up to her neck in this, and I know she's not telling me everything. Besides, if she catches me, she won't call the police. Despite Lalonde's good opinion of Mother, you and I know that she was raised to hate cops and probably still does.”

“True, but what if Darcy's with Lillian?”

“Then I won't go in.”

Rhonda stared at her, then turned away and sighed. “I found your lock pick set on the floor while I was trying to put your apartment back together that night. I put them on the top of the fridge because I didn't know if you still kept them in your junk drawer.”

“I do, and thanks.”

Casey opened the back door and stepped outside, feeling guilty for not revealing Gustaf Osterman's existence. Rhonda should be told, but the news would lead to questions she didn't have time to answer.

When Lou answered her knock ten minutes later, he was buttoning his shirt. Before he could finish, Casey spotted two large bruises on his ribs. Guilt made her want to sink through the floor.

“That looks like it still hurts a lot.”

“It's not bad. Come on in.” He sat with her on the sofa.

She glanced at his sparse chest hair, the injuries to his face. “Asking you to go was a mistake. Sorry.”

“You shouldn't go either.”

“Listen to me.” She gripped his hand. “Darcy will hurt Rhonda and Summer if I don't.”

“The cops can pick him up before that happens.”

“What if he makes bail?” She watched Lou cross his arms and frown. “I have to do this.”

“For shit sake, Casey.”

“Face the fear, act quickly, then move on,” she said. “It's what Dad would have done.”

“You wouldn't do a lot of things Marcus did, which is good.”

Casey glanced at the giant get-well card on Lou's coffee table. She'd read it when she'd stayed over. Seeing Marie's flamboyant signature with the two hearts beneath it still irritated her.

“What about asking Theo Ziegler to go in your place?” Lou said.

“I don't trust him. He showed up on the M8 and said that Darcy paid a waiter to give Dad the botulism.”

“Shit.” He slumped back against the sofa.

“Supposedly, there's proof, but he left before I could see it. Needless to say, I have a problem with his credibility.”

She watched Lou scratch the eczema on his hand. The rash always appeared when he was under stress.

“He left a phone message while I was napping this afternoon, but I haven't returned it.” Casey checked her watch. “I should go.”

Lou gripped her wrist. “I thought you wanted to move on with your life and let Lalonde handle things.”

“That was before Simone died.”

“Have you called Lalonde yet?”

“I got his voice mail and left a message.”

“What if he doesn't get it in time? He won't want you near the place.”

“I'll drive out there but stay in the car, and leave when Lalonde arrives.”

“Bad idea, Casey. A million things could go wrong.”

“I'll keep the doors locked and let you know how it went.”

He wouldn't let go of her. “You're not leaving.”

“Lou—”

“Don't try and explain or rationalize your way out of this. I mean it.”

She couldn't remember when she last saw Lou this angry. He'd never been much for arguing or physical fights, but even Lou had a breaking point. Slowly, she pried his fingers off her wrists and met his beseeching gray eyes.

“I'll be okay, I promise.”

“Call Lalonde again.”

She removed her cell phone from her jacket pocket and dialed his number. “Still voice mail.”

Lou grabbed the phone from her and stood up. “This is Lou Sheckter. Casey's on her way to the Marine Drive house right now and she's in danger.” He paced the room. “Can you go there now, or send help, or at least call us back?” He gave the date and time, then disconnected.

“Lou, I can handle—”

“No, you can't. If this is about facing your fears, then you need to wake up and realize that there are some people you
should
be afraid of.”

Casey swallowed back her frustration. Why didn't he understand that saving people she loved from being hurt was worth the risk? She started to head out, but Lou scrambled past her and flattened himself against the door. It would have been funny, if it weren't for the deadly intent on his face.