Love And Lies Page 6

“Well,” he said, his glance darting to the Judge, “just as I took it, a couple arrived to be seated. So I put the envelope down on top of the reservations book for a second.”

  “And the reservations book is where?” Boscoe asked.

  “Right at the entrance to the restaurant.”

  “Okay, so you put it down for a second. And then?”

  “I took the couple to their table.”

  “Leaving the envelope where it was.”

  The maître d’ nodded.

  “And the front of it? With Ms. Sagourin’s name written on it? Was that facing up or down?”

  “I…I’m not sure, but it was probably up, because I’d just looked at it.”

  “All right. So you took this couple to their table. Then did you return to the entrance right away?”

  “No, not exactly right away. The gentleman wanted to know if we had any special wines in the cellar that weren’t on the wine list. So I told him about those. Then they talked a little about a wine-tasting tour they’d just been on in France.”

  “So all this actually took a lot longer than a second,” Boscoe said. “How much longer, would you say?”

  The maître d’ shot another glance in the Judge’s direction, then looked at Boscoe again. “Maybe ten minutes? But the second I got back to the entrance, I gave the note to Rod,” he added, nodding toward the waiter.

  “And you,” Boscoe said, turning his attention to the younger man, “took it directly to Ms. Sagourin?”

  “Yes. Immediately.”

  “But in the meantime,” Boscoe said, “it was sitting where anyone going in or out of the restaurant— or even just walking by the entrance—could have had a look at it.”

  “Well…yes,” the maître d’ admitted.

  Boscoe nodded. “That’s all for the moment then, gentlemen. We’ll let you get back to the dining room.”

  The moment the Judge closed the door behind them, Talia turned to Boscoe. “The man in the hall was Mrs. Wertman’s killer, wasn’t he.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  She glared at him. She was lucky to still be alive, and there was no guarantee she’d stay that way. So she wanted answers, not more of his stupid questions.

  “Well, let’s see,” she said, trying not to sound totally sarcastic. “Mrs. Wertman was killed with a gun in the room I was supposed to have. And now I’ve had a gun stuck in my back and been warned how easy it would be to take me out. Does anything add up there?”

  “I doubt it,” Boscoe said.

  “What? How can you say that with a straight face? Somebody wants me dead! And I know I’m not supposed to say a word to anyone about the trial, or about whether I think the accused is guilty, or name any names, but you know exactly who I mean!”

  “Ms. Sagourin, try to calm down,” Arnie Rebuzo told her. “Now, I don’t know if what I’m going to say will make you feel better or worse, but if somebody really wanted you dead, odds are you wouldn’t be standing here yelling at us.”

  “I am not yelling!”

  “The point my partner’s making,” Boscoe put in, “the point I was trying to make, is that things don’t add up. Not the way you’re adding them up at least. You’re saying someone killed Mrs. Wertman because he thought she was you. But now that he’s got your identity straightened out, he merely walks up behind you and frightens you?”

  “Going from murdering to threatening,” Rebuzo said, “is the wrong way around. First you get threatened, then you get killed. Nobody starts off shooting and de-escalates to a threat.”

  “Exactly.” Boscoe took over again. “And the threat itself doesn’t make sense, either. Real threats are specific, not vague like his. Why tell you that you’d be easy to kill, but not why he’d want to? Or what he wanted you to do so he wouldn’t? I’m not sure what’s going on here yet, but I think that guy in the hall might just have been some weirdo. If he really wanted you dead, he would’ve killed you right there when he had the chance.”

  CADE LOOKED UP from his book, not sure if he’d heard a sound from the next room or only imagined it. But either Talia had changed her mind about stopping by to let him know what the Judge had wanted, or she’d been talking to the old fellow for a heck of a long time.

  Telling himself the Judge was probably lonely with his wife away, Cade went back to his novel. A minute later his eyes strayed to the door that connected 227 and 225. If Talia was in there he wanted to see her. Maybe the Judge had gotten her even more upset. Or maybe…

  Well, regardless of how many possible reasons he came up with, the bottom line was that he wanted to see her. And even though the door was locked on both sides, there was nothing to stop him from giving a tap to see if she was there.

  While he was still considering the idea, someone knocked from the hall. He pushed himself out of the chair and headed for the door, hoping it wasn’t Boscoe and Rebuzo. If the good detectives paid him another visit they’d probably come armed with an arrest warrant.

  When he opened the door and saw Talia, he smiled. She didn’t smile back. She just stood there, looking as frightened as a trapped rabbit. Even though it made him want to put his arms around her and assure her she was safe, he didn’t. He figured, if he was really careful, there was still a chance he could win his game of look-but-don’t-touch. He’d begun to doubt it was a very good chance, though. And ever since he’d discovered that the thought of something happening to her made him go ice cold inside, he’d been wondering if he shouldn’t just give up on his game altogether.

  He gestured her into the room, but she didn’t move. She simply whispered, “Is Harlan in there?”

  “No. What’s wrong?”

  She glanced along the hallway, then at him again. “Would you mind coming to my room? I don’t want him arriving and interrupting us.”

  “Sure.” He stepped out into the hall and closed the door, wondering what the hell the Judge had said to shake her up so badly. The minute they were inside her room, he asked.

  “Oh, Cade,” she answered, “it wasn’t anything Judge Bradshaw said. You were right—he only wanted to talk to me because he was worried about me. He just wanted to be sure I’d be careful. But before I got there…when I was halfway down that hall, someone stuck a gun in my back.”

  Cade stared at her, his throat dry and the ice-cold feeling back again. Then he remembered the phone call that had made him leave her on her own, and the feeling changed to one of horror. He hadn’t just been reading too many detective novels, after all. Someone had wanted to lure him away from her. But since she already looked so damn frightened, he decided not to tell her that at the moment.

  “Are you all right?” he said, instead. “He didn’t actually harm you?” When she shook her head, he began to breathe a little more easily. “Good. That’s the main thing. So what happened after he stuck the gun in your back?”

  Talia shrugged, looking so close to tears that Cade gave up all hope of being able to keep his distance.

  “Hey,” he said, putting his arms around her. “You’re okay. And you’re safe now.”

  As he pulled her close, her scent wafted enticingly over him. Evocative of sea air and cool sand, it never failed to make him think of a secluded stretch of beach in the moonlight. And when she pressed her cheek against his chest he could feel his heart beginning to beat faster. She was as soft and warm in his arms as he’d known she’d be. So soft and warm he found himself hoping that if time ever stood still she’d be in his arms when it happened.

  “Just relax,” he whispered into her hair. “Just relax and tell me when you can.”

  “He said,” she finally murmured, “that he wanted me to know how vulnerable I am. How easy it would be to kill me.”

  Cade swore silently and hugged her a little more tightly. He wasn’t going to let anyone kill her. Whatever the hell was going on, he’d see that nothing more serious happened to her than already had.

  “I assume,” he said after a minute, “the guy’s voice didn’t sound fam
iliar?”

  “No. It was muffled. Just a hoarse whisper. I’m sure it was a man, but that’s all.” As she finished speaking Talia drew away a little.

  Reluctantly Cade let his arms fall to his sides. He’d known what would happen if he relaxed his don’t-touch rule, and sure enough it had. She’d felt so good that now he wanted to kiss her—even though he knew this was one hell of a time to start getting romantic.

  “What about the cops?” he asked, shoving his hands into his pockets so he couldn’t reach for her again. “Have you talked to them yet?”

  She nodded. “The Judge called Boscoe. So I’ve just had another session with him and Rebuzo.”

  “And?”

  The wan smile she gave Cade made him want to kiss her even more. “And basically,” she said, “they admitted they don’t know what’s going on.”

  Cade simply shook his head. The fact that the good detectives didn’t know what was going on was hardly a news flash. They obviously figured the killer could be almost anyone. That was the only explanation for them having questioned him a second time.

  But if the killer could be almost anyone, then hell, he could also be almost anywhere.

  That thought drove the lingering temptation to kiss Talia completely out of Cade’s mind. “Look,” he said, glancing toward the balcony. “I want you to tell me all the details of what they said. But I’d feel better if I had a quick look around first, okay?”

  Chapter Six

  Cade didn’t bother waiting for Talia’s answer. He simply walked over to the bathroom and made sure no surprise visitor was lurking there. After checking the closets he headed out through the French doors.

  The night was starry and moonlit, no black shadows to conceal anyone. And since the walls separating the balconies were only waist high, he could see that the adjoining ones were empty, as well.

  Reassured, he went back inside and sat down on the love seat beside Talia. “So, fill me in on exactly what Boscoe and Rebuzo said this time around.”

  “First let me tell you how the guy knew I’d be going to the Judge’s suite.”

  She proceeded to tell him about how the Judge’s note had been left lying around, how practically anybody could have read it. From there, she moved on to what had happened with Boscoe and Rebuzo. But she’d barely gotten started on that before Cade could see she was close to crying, her blue eyes growing wet with tears.

  Before they spilled over he suggested she take a break from the story. When she nodded, he put his arm around her shoulders, then simply sat stroking her golden hair and breathing in that beach-in-the-moonlight scent.

  It was dangerously bewitching. And her body against his was even more bewitching…even more dangerous. But he could no more run for the hills under these circumstances than he could have during the trial, when he’d first become aware of the effect she had on him.

  And hell, foolish as it probably was, he no longer had the slightest desire to run. Not for the moment, anyway. All he wanted to do while they were stuck on this island was ensure that nothing more happened to her.

  Finally she leaned back against the couch and looked at him. “You know what I think bothers me most?”

  He shook his head.

  “Well, besides being scared half to death, it’s that I can’t make any sense of all this. Until I talked to Boscoe and Rebuzo, things at least seemed to add up. I was back to the theory that Joey Carpaccio’s hit man had mistaken Mrs. Wertman for me. Then when he discovered he’d made a mistake, he pulled his stunt in the hall.”

  Cade waited. It sounded straightforward to him.

  “But it doesn’t add up,” Talia continued. “Boscoe put it perfectly. He said if the guy in the hall had really wanted me dead, he’d have killed me right then and there.”

  “Well—” Cade hesitated “—maybe he didn’t because the place is swarming with cops now. That doesn’t make it the best time to kill someone. Or maybe he figured he could scare you enough to make you vote the right way.”

  “Then why didn’t he tell me that’s what he wanted? It’s because he didn’t say a word about the deliberations that Boscoe and Rebuzo don’t think he has anything to do with Joey Carpaccio. In fact, Rebuzo practically came right out and said that if Carpaccio had told someone to kill me, I’d already be dead.”

  “Well, if they don’t think he had anything to do with Joey, what the hell do they think? I mean, I know you said they don’t have a clue, but surely they have some ideas.”

  Talia shrugged wearily. “Their best guess is that he’s just some weirdo. Either a hotel guest or somebody on staff. By now everyone knows the whole story and knows I’ve got to be a bundle of nerves. So maybe he was just somebody getting his jollies at my expense.”

  “Dammit, Talia, that doesn’t sound like much of a best guess to me. I think Boscoe and Rebuzo are just grasping at straws. And not only about your guy in the hall. Do you know why you waited so long for them to get to the Judge’s suite?

  “Partly,” he went on when she shook her head, “because when they got the call saying that the Judge wanted to see them, they were busy in my roompractically accusing me of Mrs. Wertman’s murder.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head again.

  “I’m serious. I was starting to worry about how soon I’d find myself in a courtroom again. And I don’t mean as a juror.”

  Talia managed a smile, but it was such an incredibly fleeting one it tugged at his heart.

  “I just don’t know,” she murmured. “Maybe they are only grasping at straws. But it could have been a weirdo. There are a lot of people walking around loose who shouldn’t be. I see examples of it all the time in my practice.” She paused, shaking her head. “It’s just so damn spooky, because he knew who I was and intercepted that note and…it was all so organized.”

  Cade cleared his throat uneasily. The time had come to fill her in on exactly how organized. She had to have all the facts, even though telling her was going to make her even more frightened. “That message,” he forced himself to begin, “the one I got when I was walking you to the Judge’s suite? Saying there was a phone call for me?”

  She nodded.

  “When I got to my room and called downstairs about it the guy had hung up. And even though it was supposedly urgent, he hadn’t left a message. And he didn’t phone back.”

  For a moment Talia just gazed at him blankly. Then those gorgeous eyes of hers grew wide with fresh fear.

  “Oh, Lord,” she murmured. “Of course. He had to have been right there in the dining room to have read that note. So he knew you were with me.”

  “And he wanted you alone,” Cade said quietly.

  Talia simply sat staring across the room for a minute, then looked at him again. “Cade? Why on earth would Boscoe and Rebuzo think you might have murdered Mrs. Wertman?”

  He shrugged. “I can’t prove where I was when she was killed.”

  “But I thought you were in your room with Harlan.”

  “I was, but Harlan didn’t see me. That hadn’t occurred to me until the detectives asked about it. But when I first came upstairs, Harlan was in the shower. And I went out to have a look around before he was done.”

  “So he was in the shower when Mrs. Wertman was murdered?”

  “Right.”

  “But if he didn’t see you, then you didn’t see him, either.”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then how,” Talia said slowly, “do you know he really was in the shower? How do you know he didn’t just leave the water running and go out?”

  IT ALL ADDED UP to Harlan Gates. Talia glanced at Cade, sitting on the love seat opposite hers, and tried to remember which of them had been first to realize that.

  She wasn’t sure, but that was why they’d moved from her room to Cade and Harlan’s, deciding that when Harlan showed they’d see what he had to say for himself. Oh, they didn’t actually believe he’d snuck out of his room—shower running—and murdered Mrs. Wertman. Once they�
��d talked about that, they’d decided it was a pretty absurd idea.

  In the first place, even though Harlan was a little strange, neither of them could really believe he was a homicidal maniac. And in the second place, he’d known Cade would be getting to their room any minute. So if he hadn’t been showering, and Cade had been there when he’d come back to the room…well, it was just too absurd.

  But the possibility Harlan had been the guy in the hall didn’t seem the least bit unbelievable, because the more they’d talked about Frank Boscoe’s weirdo theory the more sense they’d decided it made.

  She shook her head, imagining what her professional colleagues would think about something called a weirdo theory. It was hardly a term the American Psychological Association would sanction. But setting that quibble aside, it made sense that nobody would go from murder to a threat of murder. Which made it unlikely the guy in the hall had been one of Joey Carpaccio’s friends.

  That left them with the weirdo theory. And Harlan Gates was both their closest certifiable weirdo and the most obvious suspect. He’d been in the dining room, so he’d have walked straight past the Judge’s note. He could easily have read it. Then, all he’d had to do was hang around until he’d seen they were finished eating. Once they were, Harlan could have called the desk from a pay phone to get Cade waylaid, then gone upstairs to lie in wait for Talia.

  Of course, he’d have needed a motive, as well as the opportunity, and that was the weak link. There was no obvious motive. But even though people tended to keep their deepest secrets hidden, she suspected Harlan’s relationships with women weren’t particularly healthy. And if he leaned toward the sadistic, he’d have thoroughly enjoyed scaring the hell out of her.

  She looked at Cade again, wishing Liz Jermain had put him in a room with one of the other jurors. Any of the others.

  “Where the hell’s Harlan?” Cade muttered, glancing over and catching her gaze.

  The warm concern in his gray eyes made her wish she was sitting right beside him, the way they’d been in her room. Then he could easily put his arms around her and hold her again. Merely thinking about her body pressed against his was enough to start a fluttering around her heart, and being close to him had made her feel comforted and protected. And far more than that.