ILL-TIMED ENTANGLEMENTS (The Kate Huntington mystery series #2) (17 page)

Then a second revelation hit her. Maybe it wasn’t romantic jealousy. It might be a territorial thing, the kind of jealousy that fathers feel when their teenage daughters start dating. Maybe with a little bit of misguided loyalty to Ed thrown in. How dare this man try to take his friend’s place.

That made more sense. Rob was very protective of the people he cared about. And he and Liz had made her part of their family after Eddie died. Knowing Rob as she did, that meant he was feeling responsible for her, like he did for Liz and his daughters. And now here was this other man stepping into his territory, and Rob wasn’t sure about his intentions.

Was Rob aware of all this? Probably not. If he were consciously aware of the feelings, Kate knew he was mentally healthy enough to rein them in.

Ho, boy, just when you think relationships can’t get any more complicated.

How was she going to address this? She valued Rob’s friendship above all else in her life, with the exception of her daughter. But she was very uncomfortable with the idea of backing away from other relationships because they might upset him. There was no way she would let anyone, not even Rob, have that kind of neurotic hold over her life.

“Okay, wait a minute here,” she said out loud. Rob was not neurotic. If she talked to him about it, he would back off.

Kate started rehearsing in her head what she might say to him.
Look, Rob, You’re my closest friend… Hmm, no… Rob, I love you for being so concerned about me, and it’s too soon for me to consider… a new romantic interest.
She stood up and paced back and forth in front of the bench.

“I’m still grieving for Eddie,” she said out loud. “But someday, I probably will become romantically interested in another man. Very possibly Skip…” A surge of warm tingling sensations ran through her body at that thought. She dropped back onto the bench, shaking her head to clear it.

“I appreciate that you’re trying to protect me from hurt, but you need to stop acting like my father. Skip’s a sweet, wonderful man…”

“Did I hear what I thought I just heard?”

Kate froze, then jumped up and whirled around. Skip was standing three feet behind the bench, grinning at her.

Kate blushed, then gave him an embarrassed smile. She had a quick internal debate. The part of her that instinctively trusted this man won. “Come sit with me for a moment.” She sat back down on the bench and patted the empty space beside her. He joined her.

“I’m worried about Rob’s stress level. First he had a tough court case, then came directly up here to deal with all of this. But I think there’s something else going on as well. Did you happen to notice that he didn’t really seem like himself last night and this morning?”

Skip hadn’t noticed any such thing, but he nodded obediently. Never say no when a woman asks if you’ve noticed something, his father had taught him, unless the question is, “Have you noticed that I’ve gained weight lately?”

“I think he’s jealous, in a strange kind of way,” Kate continued. “Don’t get me wrong. There isn’t any romantic interest there. Rob and I have been good friends for years, and it’s strictly platonic. But it’s just that he kind of took over the role of protector when Eddie died…”

“And he’s not sure of my intentions,” Skip finished for her.

“Well, yeah, that’s part of it…” She hesitated, still a bit uncomfortable with discussing Rob’s psyche with someone else.

Again Skip guessed what was coming next. “In a way, I’m stepping onto his turf.”

At first Kate was relieved. He had figured it out. Hey, this guy was pretty astute.

Then worry shot through her. What if Skip let on to Rob in some way that she had talked to him about this? Rob would feel betrayed. Had she revealed too much to this man and put her relationship with Rob in jeopardy?

Seeing the fear on her face, Skip said, “Don’t worry, Kate. I know how much he means to you. I’d never do anything that might damage your friendship with him.”

Kate collapsed against him in relief. Then pulled back, realizing she was sending mixed messages. He put his arm around her shoulders, gave a quick squeeze and then let go.

“Before you say it, I’ll say it for you, ‘It’s too soon, Skip.’” His voice rose in a shrill falsetto.

Kate laughed, then found herself saying, “Someday, Skip, I can’t begin to tell you when, it will no longer be too soon.”

K
ate and Skip decided it was time to touch base with the others. And they could reinforce the idea that Betty had returned to her apartment by calling out her name loudly as they knocked and identified themselves.

When they entered the building, they saw Detective Lindstrom waving to them from across the atrium. The lanky detective closed the space between them in several long strides. “Mrs. Huntington, Mr. Canfield, I was hoping to run into you today. Uh, could I speak to you for a moment, Mrs. Huntington?”

Lindstrom was becoming increasingly curious about this woman, who wore a wedding ring and answered to
Mrs.
She seemed to be good friends with Franklin and the other men in this group of amateur investigators, yet none of them was her husband. Where was he?

“Sure,” Kate replied, then said to Skip, “I’ll catch up with you.” She let Lindstrom escort her to the little wrought iron table.

Business first, he decided. “I thought you were taking Mrs. Franklin to a motel?”

Eyeing the foliage around them, Kate said, in a somewhat louder than normal voice, “We did last night, but she wanted to come home this morning.” Then she dropped her voice to a whisper. “She’s actually still at the motel. Mr. Franklin and our friends are setting a trap in her apartment to see if the killer will make a move against her again.”

“They shouldn’t be doing that,” Lindstrom whispered back. “It’s too dangerous.”

“Don’t worry. Rose Hernandez is a Baltimore County police officer, and Mac Reilly is an ex-Green Beret. They can handle themselves.”

Lindstrom still looked unhappy with the set-up.

“Look, Detective,” Kate hissed under her breath. “We need to do everything we can to resolve this. Betty isn’t safe in her own home, and we can’t go back to our lives until she is.

“I can understand why you don’t want us messing in police business,” she continued, in a more conciliatory voice. “But the others have jobs they need to get back to and I have a small daughter at home.”

It was the opening he had been hoping for. “Is she with your husband?”

“No, her nanny. I’m a widow.”

Lindstrom hid his relief behind an appropriately sorrowful expression. “My condolences, Mrs. Huntington.”

“Thank you, and please call me Kate.” She smiled at him, in apology for her earlier ire.

“Folks call me Sandy, Kate.” The detective smiled back, then his face sobered again. “I wanted to warn you to watch out for the maintenance man, Joseph Fielding.” Honoring his promise to Canfield and not wanting to embarrass her, he pretended he wasn’t aware of her previous encounter with Fielding. But he did want her to know just how dangerous the man might be.

Kate was making a mental note of the creep’s last name, which Betty hadn’t known. “Why’s that?” she said out loud.

“He’s got a record. Just little stuff–petty theft, drunk and disorderlies, and a couple of domestic violence reports from an ex-girlfriend. But he’s spent quite a bit of time in the local jail.”

Kate didn’t think of domestic violence as little stuff but she kept that to herself. She didn’t want to alienate this police officer when he was being so generous with information.

“Do you suspect him of the murders? Was robbery the motive?” she asked.

“I don’t know if anything was taken from their apartments. As Mrs. Franklin pointed out, Mrs. Blackwell wasn’t a very neat woman, so it’s hard to tell if her things had been disturbed. And she doesn’t have any close relatives who can tell us if anything might be missing. Mrs. McIntosh’s daughter is taking an inventory of her mother’s place today. She’s going to let me know if she discovers anything is gone.”

“Would you let me know what she says?” Kate asked, and was surprised when he nodded.

“What I do suspect Fielding of,” the detective continued, “are the sexual assaults that have occurred in town over the last couple months. His alibis are shaky. I’m trying to break them.”

The creep claimed he’d been drinking with his buddies and his low-life friends had backed him up. Lindstrom actually found it suspicious that he was alibied for all three crimes. Most people stay home and watch TV at least some of the time.

“Were there any signs of sexual assault with Doris or Frieda?” Kate asked.

Lindstrom shook his head. “I talked to the Forsythes last night,” he said, mostly to keep the conversation going. “They told me the same thing they’d told you about Mrs. Blackwell.”

“Skip and I talked to her again this morning.” Kate filled him in on the conversation and their belief that the woman had been lying about what she had seen the previous afternoon. “I also got the impression that Mr. Forsythe might have strayed at some point in the past.”

The detective got out his pad to make a few notes, buying himself some time as he worked up his nerve. “Kate, I was wondering… uh, I was hoping you might have dinner with me, or a coffee or something… sometime? Once this case is resolved, of course.”

What is this?
Kate thought.
Am I suddenly wearing a sign that says, “I’m lonely. Ask me out!”
No man had hit on her in the last sixteen months, and now two invitations in a row. Maybe she was starting to put out availability vibes.
Maybe
she was closer to the point where it would no longer be too soon than she had thought. She tucked that idea away for later contemplation.

She realized she had paused too long. Sandy was waiting expectantly, his expression becoming more anxious by the second. No wonder he had been so free with information that a police officer would not normally share. He was trying to get her to like him.

“I’m sorry, Sandy. I’ve only been a widow for a little over a year. It’s just too soon for me to consider dating. But thank you for asking. I’m flattered.”

The man’s face fell, but he quickly covered up his disappointment. “Again, I’m very sorry for your loss, Kate. Would you think it callous of me if I asked permission to call you at some point in the future?”

Kate debated for a second. She had a strong feeling that when she was ready to date, she would be going out with the man who was already first in line, Skip Canfield. But she didn’t want to disappoint this poor guy again. She nodded, and gave him a small smile.

There was an awkward lull. Kate decided this might be a good time to feel him out about taking Betty back to Maryland. “Uh, Sandy, Mr. Franklin and I are becoming concerned about his aunt’s stress level. And as I said before, we’ve all got lives we need to get back to. Surely it couldn’t be construed that she’s fleeing out of guilt if her nephew takes her back to stay with him in Maryland, until your investigation is completed.”

Kate was pleased with her carefully chosen words. While waiting for his agreement to this plan, she tried to decide just how exuberantly she should thank him. She didn’t want to seem to be encouraging his romantic interest.

He shocked her when he shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”

“But you can’t make her stay here? Not when there’s been an attempt on her life,” Kate blurted out. So much for carefully chosen words.

“If I arrest her, I can. Kate, don’t force my hand.”

She blanched. “Sandy, please don’t do that. It could kill her.”

The detective raised his eyes to the skylights for a minute. Kate watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed in his lean neck.

The thought flashed through her mind that he was actually more her physical type–lean and lanky like Eddie–than Skip was. And yet she wasn’t the least bit attracted to him. She wondered if she would have been, if Skip hadn’t come along first.
Now cut that out!

Lindstrom brought his eyes back to her face. “Kate, have I mentioned that my captain is a by-the-book kind of guy?” When she didn’t respond, he continued, “In
his
book, we have motive, means, and opportunity. In the Blackwell case, at least.”

“Her motive’s not a very strong one,” Kate argued. “And anyone could have picked up that poker. As for opportunity, most of the folks in this community live alone and go to bed early, so if you ask them about their alibi, you’re going to get the same answer that Betty gave you, ‘home alone in bed.’ And she’s got even less motive to kill Frieda.”

Lindstrom looked at her for a long moment. “I talked to Mrs. Franklin’s agent. Her publisher had just offered her a lucrative new contract, but that offer would have been withdrawn if Doris Blackwell had sued. I’d say that $100,000 is a pretty strong motive in that case.”

Kate decided to change tactics. “Sandy, you must have pretty good instincts or you wouldn’t have earned that gold shield. You’ve talked to Betty Franklin, watched her face, her body language. You know she’s not a killer, and she’s definitely not capable of killing a close friend.”

“Yes, they seem to have been friends, but I only have her word for it that they were
close
friends. It’s also possible that someone else killed Frieda McIntosh. She had made some enemies with her gossiping. Maybe her murderer is figuring Mrs. Franklin will take the blame, which would explain the attempt to fake her suicide, so we would think both cases were resolved.”

“Sandy, aren’t cops supposed to trust their instincts. Look me in the eye and tell me that you actually think Betty Franklin is capable of murder.”

Lindstrom sighed. He looked her in the eye and said, “Kate, you’ve been watching too much TV. Yes, cops use their instincts but most of police work is doggedly following leads, searching for evidence. I can’t ignore that evidence just because my gut says someone’s probably not a killer.”

He paused. “And Captain Davis is not the least bit interested in what my gut says. He’s sitting back in his office, reading my reports, that are saying I’ve got no other real leads, and then he’s looking at his open and closed cases stats.”