Fair Game (33 page)

Ashley hung on to her temper with an effort. “Sylvia, we’re both under a strain, and I’m sure you don’t mean to be as rude as you sound. Anything that you arranged for the funeral is fine with me. My father exists in my memory now, and fancy eulogies and flowers won’t alter my recollection.”

Sylvia smiled bitterly. “Nicely put. You’re so good with words, aren’t you? Such a lawyer, right to the end.”

Ashley fell silent. Sylvia had clearly stored up some resentment there, and Ashley was nonplussed. Sylvia had always seemed content with her charities and her children, the family from which Ashley had constantly felt excluded.

“And now you’ve forsaken Jim Dillon, whom you’ve known for years, and if I may say so treated very cavalierly, to take up with this... cop,” Sylvia said. “And a useless one at that. He didn’t fulfill his function and prevent Joe’s murder, did he?” Her face crumpled and her eyes grew wet as she remembered the tragedy.

Ashley looked at the kids, who were glancing from their mother to her like spectators at a tennis match.

“Why don’t we continue this in the library?” Ashley said softly to Sylvia. “I’ll call Elsie to serve Cindy and Joe, and we can talk.”

Sylvia made no objection, and by the time the two women were settled with a tray in the adjoining room, Ashley had herself under firm control.

“Sylvia,” Ashley began, “Lieutenant Martin did everything possible to keep Dad safe. I was there most of the time; you weren’t. You’ll have to take my word for that.”

“Oh, you’d say anything to defend your boyfriend,” Sylvia answered bitterly.

Ashley realized that discussing the subject was useless. She wasn’t going to get into the issue of Martin’s competence again. She had witnessed what happened in Millvale, and she knew he was blameless. Grief looked for a scapegoat, and Sylvia could not accept that the unthinkable had happened. She wanted to point an accusing finger at somebody, and the cop assigned to the case was the most convenient target.

“Have you considered the possibility that this oh-so- wonderful policeman may be after your money?” Sylvia demanded.

Ashley stared back at her, stunned. Then she started to laugh. She couldn’t help it.

“I don’t find that concept particularly amusing,” Sylvia said to her stiffly.

“If you knew Tim at all, you would realize how ridiculous that question is,” Ashley said, still smiling.

“Why ridiculous? Cops are not known for their lavish earning potential, and you have just inherited all this,” Sylvia said, making a sweeping gesture to include the house.

“Tim considers ‘all this’ to be the chief barrier to our relationship,” Ashley informed her.

“‘Relationship’? I suspected it was something more than comforting the bereaved. I suppose from your last remark that he wishes you were poor?”

“I think he would like it a lot better if we were more evenly matched in the monetary department, yes.”

“You’re a fool if you believe that. Other people envy us, and some of them will try to take advantage.”

“Not Tim. I think I know him better than you do.”

“He looks like a gigolo to me.”

Ashley stared at her, openmouthed. “A gigolo?”

“Why not?”

“A gigolo cop?” Ashley said. She couldn’t believe it. She felt laughter bubbling up again, but suppressed it.

“He has the look, the manner,” Sylvia said. “I’ve watched him. So handsome... and that intensity. It works on women like a magnet.”

“Sylvia, Tim is a lieutenant on the Philadelphia police force. Cops work for a living; they work hard. Gigolos hang out in casinos and service rich women.”

“He’s servicing a rich woman. He did so last night. And you’re very vulnerable right now. We all are.”

Ashley bit back the angry words springing to her lips. It had been a mistake to even discuss Tim with Sylvia, but maybe the older woman really was trying to give her good advice.

“Look, Sylvia, I know what I’m doing, and I have every intention of behaving sensibly. Can we change the subject and talk about the practicalities now?”

Sylvia was silent for a moment, and then said shortly, “Fine.”

“I will be staying here until after the funeral, when I plan to return to my apartment,” Ashley informed her. “My father left you the town house and the place in Bar Harbor, as well as the cabin at Bear Trail Lake. You said you’ll be at the town house for now, is that right?”

“Yes. I may sell the cabin. I really haven’t had the time to consider what’s best. Joe rarely used it in recent years, and I have no interest in hunting.”

“I see. Well, I told Elsie to assure the staff here that they would all be kept on in their jobs. I plan to keep the house open, and you and the kids can use it whenever you want.”

“Thank you,” Sylvia said grudgingly.

“Sylvia, I want to make this as easy on both of us as possible. Now, why don’t you tell me about the funeral plans?”

A truce effected, her stepmother nodded and proceeded to do just that. It was an hour before Ashley was finished with the conversation, and then she went looking for her stepsiblings, of whom she was fond. They were stunned and bewildered by their father’s violent passing, bereft of his presence when they were too young to understand the forces that had taken him away.

Ashley found Cynthia in the kitchen with Elsie, helping the older woman put away the breakfast dishes in the pantry.

“Cindy, how are you feeling?” Ashley asked her, taking the child aside as Elsie made a tactful departure.

Cynthia shrugged, her eyes on the floor.

“You can tell me,” Ashley said gently.

“I miss my dad,” Cynthia mumbled.

“I know,” Ashley said. “I miss him too.”

“He’s not coming back.”

Ashley shook her head, wishing that she could contradict that statement.

“Ash, what happened?” Cynthia asked.

Ashley didn’t answer immediately, wondering what Sylvia had told the girl.

“They’re trying to keep me away from the news,” Cindy said, “but I know Dad was shot with a gun.”

Ashley nodded.

“Who did it?”

“We don’t know.”

“Are the police looking for him?”

“Oh, yes. They’ll find him, too.”

“They don’t always find assassins, I know. I read about it in school. Sometimes the police don’t get them.”

“The police are looking very hard, Cyn, I promise.”

“Why would somebody shoot Daddy?” Cynthia asked, her adolescent face crumbling.

Ashley hugged her close. “I don’t know, baby. There are sick people in the world. Maybe somebody who didn’t like what he was trying to do for our country, maybe somebody who’s just insane and doesn’t have a real reason. It’s hard to understand something like this; even adults have a lot of trouble with it.”

“Mommy says we have to remember what a good man he was and keep him in our hearts forever.”

Ashley’s eyes began to sting. “Your mother is absolutely right. And we all have to do our very best to help her now, because she’s very upset.”

Cynthia drew back to look at her stepsister. “Aren’t you very upset, Ash?”

Ashley sighed, then nodded.

“Then don’t we have to help you too?”

“We all have to help each other; it’s the only way we can get through this. Will you give me your word that you’ll mind your mother, and if you need anything you’ll let me know?”

Cynthia nodded.

“Good girl,” Ashley said, kissing her. “Now, where is Joey. I want to talk to him too.”

“He’s upstairs in Mom’s bedroom, playing with the thunderbikes Mom bought him.”

Ashley kissed Cynthia and then went up to the second floor to look for the little boy. She found him on the floor where Cindy had said he’d be, assembling plastic motocross bikes from a kit.

“Hi, Joe,” Ashley said, crouching on the rug next to him.

He looked up at her, and she saw the telltale tracks of tears on his face.

For some reason, that released the flood that had been blocked up inside of Ashley. She gathered the boy into her arms, and with that solid little body cradled next to hers, she cried and cried.

* * * *

Martin drove back to Philadelphia from the Fair estate in record time. His thoughts were filled with images of Ashley and their lovemaking, but as he got closer to the city, his concentration shifted to Rourke and the coming confrontation.

He was still wearing the clothes he’d worn to see Ashley, but he went straight to the precinct house, not stopping off at his place to change. The police station looked the same as it always had, but Martin felt that he’d altered immeasurably since he was last in it. He walked through the corridor outside Rourke’s office, oblivious to the pea-green institutional walls, the notices tacked to bulletin boards, the soft-drink and coffee machines, one of which predictably bore a hand-lettered Out of Order sign.

Heads turned as he passed, but no one spoke to him.

He knocked on Rourke’s door.

“Yeah,” Rourke barked from inside.

Martin went into the office.

Rourke was on the phone. He looked up when Martin entered the room, then said into the phone, “I’ll get back to you.”

He hung up, staring at his visitor.

Martin faced him across the desk.

“You look like hell,” Rourke greeted him.

Martin said nothing.

“You been getting any sleep?”
 

“Some.”

“You got skinny, too. It’s all those smokes, kid. Give the cigarettes a rest; you’ll live longer. I gave ‘em up four years ago, and look at me. Never felt better.”

Martin stared at the wall behind Rourke’s head. This was all he needed now, a health lecture.

“How’s Capo?” Rourke asked.

“He’s going to make it.” Martin paused and added shortly, “No thanks to me.”

Rourke held up his hand. “We’ve been through this already. I don’t want to hear that.”

“I still feel like I screwed up. Fair was my responsibility, and he’s dead.”

Rourke shook his head. “Internal Affairs already knows the Senator disobeyed your instructions. He didn’t stick to procedure. They’re aware of exactly what happened.”

“I thought IA would be involved.”

“You’ll have to talk to them, but it’ll be routine. They know there’s only so much you can do in a situation like that.” Rourke got up from his chair and walked around his desk, putting his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Don’t take it on, Tim, or you’ll never get over it. You’re a veteran, you’ve been through things like this before. Put it behind you.”

“I never saw anyone I was protecting get murdered right in front of my eyes. I felt.. . helpless.”

“Yeah, I know. Cops hate helpless. But you’ve got to let these things slide. Neither one of us expected this to happen.”

“I want to go after the guy, Gerry. It was my show. I deserve the chance.”

Rourke stared at him. “The feds have it now.”

“Then give me a leave of absence. Starting now.”

“Tim, you know how long it takes to get a leave approved around here. You’d be in a rocking chair before it came through. And anyway, I think you should stay clear of this until the IA investigation is over and you’re pronounced clean.”

“Gerry, it’s my case, and they’re pushing me out of it.”

“It’s not your case anymore, I already told you that.”

“So I’m just supposed to fade into the woodwork? I have nothing to say about it?”

“For Christ’s sake, Tim, let the feds have it. The damn thing’s getting worse every minute. That was the Bureau on the phone when you came in here.”

“And?”

“It’s hit the media that the daughter saw the shooter.”

Martin went white. “What?” he whispered.

“Yeah, I know, it’s bad.”

“I told her not to tell anyone she saw the guy,” Martin murmured, stunned. “She promised me she wouldn’t.”

“I knew you would have told her to keep her mouth shut,” Rourke said. “I checked into it, and it seems the girl was sedated in the hospital. I guess she was confused by the drug, half asleep maybe, and she mumbled something to a nurse, who then leaked it to the papers.”

Martin swore under his breath.

“It seemed fishy to me too, so I...” Rourke said.

He stopped in amazement as Martin pushed past him roughly.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Rourke demanded, blocking his path.

“Get out of my way,” Martin said, dodging.

“Don’t give me that,” Rourke barked. “I’m still your superior in this department, and you’ll answer a direct question, boyo, or I’ll have the desk sergeant detain you at the door.”

Martin paused in flight and sighed. He knew Rourke would do it, and a hassle would only delay him further.

“I’m going back to the Fair house,” he said. “The gunman will be after the girl as soon as he finds out she saw him.”