Authors: Marilyn Campbell
"Detective Kidder will no longer be bothering you."
"That
would
be terrific," Teri said with a laugh. "But how can you be sure? Have you got a friend in the police department you neglected to tell me about?"
"He's dead. Murdered in his own bed."
Teri was certain she couldn't have heard right "
What
did you say?"
Selena giggled. "I knew you'd be surprised. But it's true. He's out of your hair... permanently."
Permanently? Like Rico is out of my life permanently?
Selena's usage of the word alarmed her in the same way Kidder's announcement about Rico's blonde lover had. The coincidence was unnerving. "Are you sure?"
"Oh, yes. I'm positive."
Selena's giggle was muffled this time, but Teri still heard it, just as she heard something in Selena's voice that made it sound like she knew a secret. "Selena? How did you find out?"
"Oh I heard it on the radio this morning, and I know how you hardly ever read the paper or watch TV, so I thought I'd be the bearer of the good news."
Teri was speechless. No matter how annoying the detective had been, she could not refer to his murder as good news. It seemed that Selena had a blind spot when it came to sympathizing over someone's death, and it would serve no purpose for Teri to scold her about it again. "Did you hear how it happened, or whether they know who did it?"
"Um, no, I don't think so. But I'm betting it will turn out to be another mob hit. Probably connected to his investigating Rico's death."
"But—" Teri started to argue the logic of that assumption and stopped herself. Although Kidder had been tailing
her,
believing
she
was guilty, he might also have been hounding someone in the mob. It was possible. "You're probably right."
"So,
now
are you ready to get back to work? I'm available to sit for you today."
Teri's mind was busy trying to absorb Selena's news and thinking how she needed to tell Drew right away. "Work? Yes, I should, but not today. I've got to go through Rico's things sooner or later. I decided to get it over with today, before getting back to the project. That way my head would be good and clear."
"Oh. That's probably a good idea. Tomorrow, then?"
Teri heard the whining tone and hesitated a moment too long.
"Teri? Are you still there? Maybe I should come and help you today."
"That's okay. I think I need to do this by myself, but tomorrow should be good. How about if I call you?"
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Knowing firsthand how much concentration Drew needed to do the shoot, she decided to wait until he took a break to tell him about Kidder. In the meantime, she drove to the store to get a newspaper. When she returned home, she turned on the radio to listen for the news as she scanned the paper for anything about a cop killing. Although there was nothing about Kidder's murder in the paper, she rationalized that it could have been a very late-breaking story. It was too early for the midday television news and, since her laptop was in the studio, she couldn't check their websites until Drew was finished up.
She decided the chore she had mentioned to Selena would actually be a good one for that day and took the radio into the bedroom while she got started.
As the third hourly news update ended, Teri's stomach insisted she think about lunch. Her bedroom floor looked like an obstacle course of bags filled with Rico's clothes to go to charity and boxes packed with things that his family might want to go through later. The one possession of Rico's that Teri left right where she saw it was his handgun. Since he could no longer insist they keep a gun in the house, she wanted it gone. She wondered how to go about getting rid of one.
The second phone call that day almost wiped out Teri's memory of the first. The owner of the Forsythe Gallery happily informed her that they had just sold the most expensive of her paintings. By the time Teri hung up, she was raring to get back to work on the new series she'd been thinking about. And she couldn't wait another minute to tell Drew.
She had heard the models leaving a short time ago. Drew hadn't come down from the studio yet, but he was probably hungry by now. Heading for the kitchen, she decided a picnic was in order A number of summers had come and gone since she'd taken advantage of the wooden table and benches under the trees out back. In practically no time she had packed lunch for two in a basket, located a battery-operated radio and gone outside to set it up.
Teri smiled when she saw Drew coming toward her before she had a chance to go get him.
"You must be readin' my mind again, darlin'," he said with a wink, then noticed the radio. "A little mood music?"
"Hardly." As they sat down across from each other, she took sandwiches, fruit, chips and sodas out of the basket. "Selena called this morning. She heard on the news that Detective Kidder was murdered. I've been listening for more details."
"Murdered? Geez! He was parked in front of your house just last night. What happened?"
"I'm not sure. There was nothing in the paper and I've been listening to the radio for the last three hours, trying different stations, but I haven't heard a word about it."
"That's odd. When a police officer gets killed, it's usually big news. Could Selena have been mistaken?"
Teri shook her head. "I couldn't believe it. But she said she was positive. That Detective Kidder was murdered in his own bed."
"Well, I can't say I'll miss havin' him around, but it's still a terrible thing."
"I wonder if another detective will continue with his investigation."
Drew shrugged, then took her hand in his. "Don't be frettin' over somethin' that hasn't happened yet. Kidder's suppositions were so far off the mark, we've got to believe the next detective assigned to the case will be more logical and toss those ideas out the window."
"God, I hope so. For a little while, though, I think we should still be, um..." She lowered her lashes shyly. "Discreet?"
Their relationship was too new for her to feel completely at ease discussing the mechanics of it, and she steered back to the original subject. "You know, I had this really frightening thought. What if I
had
filed a complaint against Kidder, as we discussed? Then he was murdered. I could have ended up being a suspect again!"
"But you didn't."
Before either could say more, the news came on and they both turned their attention to the headlines. Selena's news was officially confirmed—Kidder had been found murdered in his home.
"So it's true," Teri said, a minute later, when music began playing again with no further details about the murder having been related.
"That was pretty brief. Maybe you just missed it earlier."
"I suppose. I was busy and changing the channels a lot." For several minutes they ate, listening to soft rock and watching the birds battle each other for the choicest seeds, until Teri remembered to tell him about selling another painting.
"That's wonderful!" Drew said, leaning across the table to give her a congratulatory kiss that fell within the limits of discreet.
"The gallery owner said there's been so much interest in my work lately, he wouldn't be surprised if the rest of my paintings sell before I finish this next series."
"Have you started it yet?"
"I have the photos you took and I started the one with the Monticello dining room, but most of it's still in my head. It's been really hard to focus lately." She rolled her eyes and he squeezed her hand.
"But in the meantime I've done a few sketches for another idea. I thought I'd call it
Faces
. Each painting would be a collage of expressions of one person's face. Or maybe one emotion on a bunch of people's different faces." Her hands drew abstract pictures in the air. "I was thinking of doing one of a little boy, another of an old woman, throw in an ethnic mix, and go from there."
"Sounds fascinatin'. Any chance you'll be needin' a photographer to help catch all those expressions? I happen to know one who's not very experienced but accommodatin' as all git-out."
Teri fought to keep a straight face. "Oh, I already have someone in mind to ask, and he's also very accommodating. And he's proved he has a lot of experience in areas where it really counts. But those aren't the reasons I'd ask him to work with me."
"Oh?" Drew asked skeptically, trying just as hard to keep from grinning. "Then what outstandin' qualification does this someone have?"
She glanced from side to side, as if to make sure no one was listening, then secretively imparted her reason. "I wouldn't want this to get around, but I have a soft spot for lonely cowboys."
Drew laughed and brought her hand up for a kiss. "And I am mighty grateful for every one of your soft spots, ma'am. When do we start?"
"How about tomorrow? Maybe we could drive around looking for a good subject or two."
"Sounds fine to me. I'll just finish developin' the film I used today so I'll be free tomorrow. What are you up to for the rest of the afternoon?"
She couldn't help making a face. "I've been going through Rico's things. Twelve years' worth. It's depressing as hell." When he looked as though he was about to offer sympathy, she stopped him. "No, I'm okay, really. Sometimes, though, I forget what happened to him and I expect to see him walk in the door. It's a very strange feeling."
"And I'm makin' the adjustment that much harder," Drew said, looking away.
She reached across the table and touched his face. "I wish you'd stop doing that." He looked at her with one brow raised in question. "Whenever you feel guilty about something, you look away from me, as if you expect me to lay into you. I can only guess that's a little something left over from your marriage, but I don't give a damn why you do it. Just stop. You're the best thing that's happened to me in years. I can't begin to imagine how much harder this all would have been without you."
With each word, she got a little more aggressive, and his face broke into a smile. "I'll bet it's like the Fourth of July around here when you really get fired up about somethin'."
She raised her chin in a gesture of mock defiance. "Just don't try me."
His eyes instantly filled with mischief. "An' here I was, countin' on
tryin'
you at least once more today."
Blushing prettily, she again moved the conversation to cooler ground. "Do you have any idea how to get rid of a gun?"
Drew choked on the soda he was drinking. "I'm hopin' you're not about to tell me you're the one who did the detective in, and now you've got to get rid of the weapon."
"I'm serious. Rico kept a loaded handgun in the nightstand next to our bed. It always made me nervous and I want it out of the house. I don't even want to touch the thing to unload it. But I'm pretty sure he got it illegally—never registered with the police as far as I know—so I'm not sure what they might do or think if I try to turn it in now. I don't need to raise more questions than they already have. And I can't throw it away. Who knows what kind of person would end up with it. Do you want it?"
Drew waved a hand at her. "Not me. I've always figured if I had a gun, I'd probably be the one to get shot with it." He didn't mention that, for a while there, he didn't trust himself to possess such a sure means of self-destruction.
As they were cleaning up, the sound of a car in the driveway drew their attention, and they both went to investigate.
Teri's breath caught when she saw a police car but the sight of Captain Hart getting out of that car released some of the fear that had automatically gripped her.
"Mrs. Gambini. Good afternoon," Hart called with a nod and a friendly smile as he approached. With an uncertain glance at Drew, he added, "I believe we met at the police station. I'm Captain Hart."
Drew stepped forward to shake his hand. "Yes we did. Drew Marshall."
The Captain's smiling expression turned grim. "Unfortunately, we haven't located the man you both identified. Actually, 'unfortunate' is not nearly a strong enough term. That's why I came by today. I wanted to speak to you personally, before you heard it elsewhere."
Teri felt the tension return as she noticed how uneasy he looked, and thought to put off whatever he had to say. "Would you like to come in for a cold drink, Captain?"
"No, thank you. I have to get right back to the station. Do you remember Detective Kidder?"
Teri stiffened and felt Drew touch her back. "Yes, of course. He was here—"
"He was murdered," Hart said over top of her words. "Shot with his own gun, right in his home. Someone broke in through a window while he was asleep. No one seems to have heard a thing. Obviously Bill hadn't either, since they..." The captain closed his eyes and took a ragged breath. "Sorry. Bill was a good cop and a friend of mine for over thirty years. I only came by to let you know what the lab boys already found out, before the press gets hold of it."
"But it was already on the news," Teri told him.
"I figured as much. We tried to keep it under wraps, at least till we got more of the evidence sorted. When did you hear it?"
"It was just on the radio but a friend called about nine this morning to tell me she heard on the news that the detective was murdered in his bed. She had met him when he was here and again at the... the morgue."