Playing with Fire (23 page)

“I love you,” she whispered.

“I love you more.”

And strange as it seemed, in this place where the specter of Diane should have been the strongest she no longer felt her sister hovering over her. Mocking her.

Cassie stood in her living room, listening to Barry Dangler and getting angrier by the minute.

“This was a real break-in, Barry,” she snapped, her words laced with venom. “Don’t try to make out it’s nothing.”

“Well, why in the hell would anyone want to break in here?” he demanded. “What could they want?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out, and that’s what I’m asking you to check into.” She was furious. “Why is it you just want to sweep it under the table the way you did with Diane’s death?”

“Whoa, there.” Now
he
was angry. “Back off there, Cassie. Nobody’s sweeping anything under the rug. I’m still convinced that somehow, some way, Griffin Hunter engineered what happened with your sister.”

“Well, he didn’t break into my house.” She planted her hands on her hips. “He was with me in Florida when it happened.”

“There’s always his friend, Phil,” Dangler reminded her. “We noticed him cruising by here a few times.”

“Is that so?” Cassie wanted to stamp her foot or throw something. She was beyond frustrated. “Just how did you notice that? You checking up on my house for your own reasons?”

His face reddened. “Just doing regular night patrols.”

“Which increased 1,000 percent since Griff came into the picture.” She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “We asked Phil to keep an eye on the house because we were afraid something like this would happen. Phil wouldn’t have to break in like that. He’s a locksmith. He could have done it without any trace. Besides, what would be his motive?”

Dangler glanced around the room. “Lots of valuable stuff here, you know. Mighty tempting.”

“Oh, please. Now, you’re reaching. First, you tell me there’s no reason for a robbery, now you tell me I’ve got stuff anyone would want to steal. You can’t have it both ways, Chief. What’s going on here, anyway? Why are you giving me such a bad time?”

Dangler gave her a hard look. “When you run with the wrong people, Cassie, most anything can happen.”

Just like that, it was clear to her. As long as Griffin Hunter slept in her bed and was a part of her life, she’d be tarred with the same brush the town had used on him. This was the very thing he’d warned her about, but she hadn’t realized just how bad it could be.

With a supreme effort, she controlled the anger raging in her. “Fine.” She turned away from him. “Just write up some kind of report so I’ll have it for the insurance company. I won’t bother you again. If I have a problem, I’ll take care of it myself. Just remember, I still have a sister whose murder hasn’t ever been solved. I won’t stop poking my nose around until I get some answers.”

“You might not like what you find,” the chief said in a flat voice.

Cassie gritted her teeth. She was tired of hearing this from everyone. “At least I’ll be the one to find it since you and everyone else seems to think we’re not worth bothering about.”

“Cassie, I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did. You can show yourself out.”

She spent the morning putting the house back in order, dusting and vacuuming as she went along. She needed to keep it in shape for any prospective buyers.

At noon, she called Carol, thanked her for everything she’d done, and told her the place was ready to show again.

“I know I shouldn’t be saying this, Cassie—”

“Then don’t. Do you want the listing or not, Carol? It’s no problem for me to call someone else.”

“Who on earth would you call?”

Carol sounded so astonished, Cassie almost laughed.

“Strange as this may seem to you, there are other real estate agents in Texas.”

“But we’re the experts in this area.” Carol’s disbelief was evident. “We’re the best you can get.”

“Then I suggest you do your job and leave my personal business out of this. Let me know when your client wants a showing again.” She disconnected the call, wishing she could slam it into Carol Markham’s smug face.

She finished unpacking her car and putting things away. The cartons coming from Tampa on the moving van would be stored in Griff’s garage on a temporary basis.

She called the bank, relieved to learn all the papers for the annuities had been processed and the appropriate checks transmitted electronically. She realized she still hadn’t told Griff about the windfall and made a mental note to do so.

That done, she decided to go through all the clothes in the garage. Family Services always needed clothing so after checking everything with great care, she would send it all to them. But before she could get started, Neil called.

“I just wanted to make sure you were all right,” he told her.

“I’m fine, Neil.” God, she just wanted to slap his patronizing self. “Why wouldn’t I be? Is there something I should not be fine about?”

“Not at all, not at all.” She could visualize him thinking of how to rephrase his words. “I heard about the break-in, and I just felt a responsibility to check on you.”

She bit down on her temper but failed to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “I didn’t realize the break-in was in the paper so soon. News sure gets around this place in a hurry.”

“Stoneham is a small town,” he reminded her. “We all look out for each other.”

“If that’s true, how come Barry Dangler is trying to blow off what happened?” she demanded. “If Griffin hadn’t been with me, I’m sure he’d have him in jail for it. And if everyone is so very concerned about the Fitzgerald family, how come Diane’s murder is still unsolved?”

There was a long silence at the other end of the line. She could almost hear Neil turning sentences over in his mind.

“Cassie, you need to leave Diane alone,” he said at last. “She’s dead, and that’s unfortunate, but your sister lived a life where some kind of violence was the only possible ending. You need to get on with yours. Away from Stoneham. Away from Griffin Hunter. Maybe coming back here wasn’t such a good idea for you after all.”

“Is that a threat?” she asked, her tone quiet desire her boiling anger. “Or do you know something you’d rather I didn’t find out?”

“That’s totally unfair,” he protested. “I’m just saying, let sleeping dogs lie. If you hadn’t gotten yourself mixed up with Hunter, you wouldn’t be on this kick.”

“You are so wrong.”
What an insufferable ass
. “Diane was my sister, no matter what you think of her. And she’s not just dead, she was murdered. I’m entitled to some answers.”

“Fine. But don’t blame me if you don’t like the ones you get.”

They terminated the conversation without either of them saying good-bye.

Cassie’s rage, which had been receding, threatened to erupt again. The best thing would be to attack the project out in the garage.

Despite the heat of the day, the garage wasn’t too unbearable. Cassie found an old fan in the corner, which she plugged in, and opened the back door to get some circulation. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she pulled the first box toward her and began lifting things out. Her mother’s things.

Faint traces of the familiar scent of the rose sachet her mother had used for as long as she could remember still clung to the garments. On impulse, she held a blouse to her cheek, the material soft against her skin. Tears welled up for all the hugs she’d never received, and for the last six years when she might as well have had no mother.

One by one, she lifted each garment, examined it for usability, and folded it, stacking everything in piles around her. Then she attacked the next carton and the next. In an hour, she had gone through several cartons, rejecting only a few items. When she was almost finished, she was startled to find one that contained her father’s clothes. It must have been in the garage all this time.

Out of habit, she checked each of the pockets, not expecting to find anything. But then, in the back pocket of one pair of slacks, her fingers encountered a slip of paper. She withdrew it with great care and unfolded it. Something was written on it, the letters faded with age. She had to walk to the open door to get better light. When she read what was written, her heart thumped with an erratic beat.

You’d better rein in that bitch daughter of yours or you and she are both dead. Ten o’clock tonight.

Cassie’s hand shook. Did this mean her father knew what had been going on with Diane? And what would that have been? How did her father figure into it? Who had he been meeting? The questions bombarded her so fast she got dizzy.

Pulling herself together, she fished her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the chief’s office. She was sure she’d get precious little from him, but she still had to try.

“What is it now, Cassie?” He sounded tired—of her, more than anything. “Haven’t you stirred things up enough already?”

She forced herself to swallow a quick retort. “I was going through some things in the house, and it just occurred to me I never saw a hard copy of the report of my father’s suicide. Do you have one?”

“Shit, Cassie, now you’re seeing problems where none exist. Maybe if you’d come home for the funeral, you’d have found out then.”

“I didn’t call for a lecture, just to ask a simple question. Can you answer it for me or not?”

“I guess so.” His sigh carried through the connection. “Otherwise, you’ll be down here driving me crazy again. Yes, there’s a report. Cut and dried. Nothing funny.”

“All I ever knew was he became depressed after Diane’s death,” she told him. “Six months later, someone found him in the park in his car. He’d shot himself with that old gun he kept around.”

“That’s correct. That’s all there was to it.” Dangler cleared his throat. “I suppose you want a copy of that report, too?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind. I’d like to come by and pick it up now.”

“I do mind, but I don’t guess there’s any getting around it.” He sighed. “But you need to give me a day or two, just like with Diane. All those old files are in storage.”

Cassie blew out her breath in exasperation. “Fine. Wednesday afternoon, then. But don’t put me off.”

“I’ll have it for you.” She could tell he was irritated. “But I’m getting real pissed off at all the cans of worms you want to keep opening. Go back to Florida, Cassie. You don’t belong here.”

“You won’t get rid of me that fast,” she snapped. “For your information—and everyone else you’ll share it with—I quit my job and gave up my apartment. I’m back to stay.” She waited for him to say something. To show some reaction. There was such a long silence, she didn’t know if he was still there. “Chief?”

“I think that’s a big mistake,” he murmured. “You’re making yourself pretty unpopular around here, you know.”

“I didn’t know I had to win a popularity contest to stay in this town.” She was getting madder by the minute.

“Go away, Cassie. Anywhere. And take that damned Griffin Hunter with you. Good riddance to you both.”

She poked the disconnect button as hard as she could. She was glad she and Griff had already decided to move when this was all over. Stoneham was making her sicker by the day.

Her hand was still on the telephone when it rang again.

“Hello, Cassie.” Harley, warm and familiar. “Just checking in on you since you got back.”

Cassie exhaled. “Hello, Harley. I’m fine, thank you. And it seems still sticking my nose in where it isn’t wanted.”

“Cassie, honey.” His words were couched in his best bedside manner. “We’re just looking after your welfare, you know. You’re stirring up a lot of things best left untouched. If you plan to stay in this town, you don’t want to be raising everyone’s hackles. Especially over nothing.”

“You call my sister’s murder nothing?” Anger kept battering at her. “Harley, I thought you were a friend to my family.”

His sigh traveled through the connection. “I am, sweetheart. I’m still trying to be one.”

“Duly noted.” Then a thought occurred to her. “Who says we’re staying in Stoneham, anyway?”

“I don’t understand.”

“And you don’t have to. Thanks for the call. Good-bye, Harley.”

Neil had to have called him the minute he had hung up from her, but why? Was there some kind of conspiracy? What would it be about? It was hard to believe any of these people had anything to do with Diane. Or did they?

There was one unopened box left, the one containing all the papers from her father’s desk. After finding the slip of paper, she couldn’t bring herself to face any more discoveries at the moment. She’d need Griffin beside her to do that.

By seven, when Griff got home, she had showered, changed into fresh shorts and shirt, and lay on the couch, letting aspirin work on her headache. He held up two white paper sacks.

“I figured you’d be too busy today to cook,” he told her, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “And it’s too hot for anything heavy. I got sandwiches from the deli. Okay?”

“That’s wonderful,” she said. “You’re wonderful. Come here and let me show you how wonderful.”

“Wait until I shower,” he said. “I’m sweaty and dirty. I’ll just be a minute.”

She waited until they had finished eating and drinking the last of the iced tea before she pulled the slip of paper out of her pocket and handed it to him.

“I found this today.” She watched his face for a reaction.

“What the hell is this about?” He studied it, obviously as puzzled as she was. He turned the paper over, looking at both sides.

“I guess that’s what I’m asking you. Does this mean anything to you?”

“No.” He smoothed it out with his fingers. “But let’s see if we can figure it out.”

Cassie nibbled on her thumbnail. “I know this is a terrible thing to ask you, but could Diane have known who the real father of her baby was and been blackmailing him?”

“Anything is possible where Diane was concerned.” Bitterness tinged his words. “I think there’s a lot none of us knew about her.”

“How does my father fit into all of this? Who could he have been meeting? I’m more confused than ever.” She closed her eyes for a moment then snapped them open. “I almost forgot. I called the chief today to ask about a report on my father’s suicide, and he was none too happy with my request.”