Almost Forever (7 page)

He too seemed uncomfortable that the case had interfered with a pleasant evening. He immediately changed the subject back to their families, and they spent the rest of dinner sharing stories, he about his eccentric grandmother and she about the love of her life, Mackenzie.

Finally, Justin pushed his plate away. “I'm stuffed. I haven't had lasagna that good in…well, maybe ever. Where did you learn to cook like that?”

“Mark's grandmother was born in Italy. She couldn't speak much English, but she showed me how to cook real Italian food. I use her recipes in the restaurant.”

He picked up his plate and hers, carried them to the sink, and started to rinse them off.

“Don't bother with those. I can do them later. More wine?” she asked.

“No, one's my limit when I have to drive home.”

Too bad he can't spend the night.
Lori shook her head. Where had that thought come from? Jeez, she needed to spend some quality time with her vibrator tonight before she said something that would embarrass her. The last thing she wanted to do was stand next to him and wash the dishes, but she also didn't think it was appropriate for him to do all the work. She put the wine and dressing back into the refrigerator, then opened the dishwasher.

“You don't have to rinse them off. Just load 'em up,” she offered, eager to hurry him along. “But really, I can finish up here. You have a long drive back to Austin.”

“I can't leave you with a sink full of dirty dishes. That wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me.”

And Lori suspected that Justin was always a gentleman. Shit!

They finished cleaning up, again working well as a team. As Lori put the last glass away, Justin wiped his hands and hung the towel on a hook.

“I guess I'd better get going,” he said. “Thanks for the meal.”

“Thanks for not making me eat alone,” she answered sincerely. Somehow since she knew Mark was dead, the house seemed bigger and emptier when her daughter was gone. There were creaks and thumps she'd never noticed before. It was as if once Mark's bones were relocated, his spirit had moved into the house. She didn't really believe in ghosts. On the other hand, the last thing she wanted was to find out they existed by meeting one in the hallway.

Justin took his gun off the refrigerator and reholstered it. “An official report will be issued, probably tomorrow, by the ME, so it will likely hit the newspapers on Wednesday. You're going to be inundated with reporters this week. I wouldn't recommend you talk to them just yet. Do you have anyone to hold them back?”

She exhaled a deep breath. “Wow, good point. I'll call my attorney first thing. She'll be able to handle them. But…won't that make me look guilty?” Lori knew she was a suspect, but she didn't want to do anything that would cause extra attention. She hoped that by cooperating, she would help solve the case before it came down to her being hauled away in handcuffs in front of Mackenzie.

Justin shrugged. “It might, but it would be a smart move. He was silent for a moment, and Lori waited, knowing there would be more. “When did you hire her?” he inquired casually.

She sighed, wishing they could have a conversation for longer than five minutes without the interrogation. But then, maybe that's all that was holding them together. The silly schoolgirl tingles she felt around him could just be because he was a virile male and not because there was any kind of genuine attraction. “When Mark disappeared, someone told me that I should get my own attorney…so I did. I needed someone to look after my best interests in the divorce,” Lori answered, suddenly feeling very tired. “Casey's been with me for eight years now.”

“Casey Willows? She's sharp. Maybe she knows the name of a good PR person. Ask her about that.”

“I'll do that.” Lori frowned. “Casey has been trying to get me to file a petition with the court for a declaration of death.”

Justin's expression didn't change, but Lori could tell he was watching her closely as he asked, “Why didn't you?”

Lori lifted her chin and stared into his eyes. “Because I thought he was alive and well, enjoying his new life without the responsibility of a wife and daughter and winery.”

His eyes softened. “I'm sorry. I know you've been through a lot. I believe you, and I want to help. But my job is to gather all the facts so we can find out who killed Mark.”

She continued to meet his gaze. Unless he was a really good liar, she bought his story. “So tell me, why are the Texas Rangers handling Mark's…murder?”

“Two reasons. First, it's an eight-year-old open case. There is no statute of limitations on murder. Second, the county doesn't have the resources to handle a complicated case like this. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering why the sheriff isn't involved.”

“He's involved; he's just not taking the lead. I'll spend time with him, your neighbors, your staff…and you until we find whoever did this.”

“Good. Although Mark probably deserved it.”

“I've never had the spouse of a victim say that before.”

She rubbed her hand across her forehead. “It's been such a long haul since he went missing, and now there's closure. Well, sort of. I really do hope you catch whoever did this.”

“I should go.” He headed toward the front door and took his hat off the rack. “I'll call and set up another time to come back out and interview you and your staff formally. I'll get a better idea from the ME probably tomorrow, then I'll let you know when they can release the remains.”

She flinched. “I'll start the arrangements for the funeral. I expect you'll want to come. Who knows who will show up.”

“The odds are the killer will be there.” He put his hat on, tipped his head, and smiled. “Good night, Mrs. Roberts.”

“I thought we were past that.” Lori was disappointed that after the comfortable, casual evening, they had fallen back to formalities.

He opened the door and stepped out but turned back toward her. “Lori.” His lips lifted into a charmingly crooked grin.

Walking into the medical examiner's autopsy lab always gave Justin the creeps. Several times a year his caseload involved a murder, but there was something very different about looking at a body on the street, fully clothed and in a pool of blood, as compared to a naked body, exposed and discolored under the glaring lights.

He never got used to it.

There were three small glass-enclosed rooms, each with its own cold, stainless-steel table in the middle. One room was vacant, one had a corpse draped under a white sheet, and the other contained Dr. Janet Maddox, chief medical examiner, standing next to a skeleton that had been neatly reassembled into the shape of a human.

Janet, nearly six feet tall, jet black hair tied back in a long ponytail, wearing bright pink tennis shoes and a white regulation physician's coat, turned to greet him.

“Ten o'clock? Late night?” She smiled and set her instruments down on the tray.

“Morning, Janet. And no…well, sort of, but not what you think.” He wasn't going to share with her the X-rated dreams he'd had about Lori. He had awakened with a massive hard-on that took five minutes in a cold shower to dissipate. The rest of the night he tossed and turned, finally falling asleep just before dawn. At some point he must have hit the alarm, because it was turned off and he had overslept. But he didn't owe Janet an explanation. Besides, he didn't want to dwell on those dreams of a lithe, lovely, and totally naked Lori. “I'm on my way into the office. Damn, it's cold in here.”

“The bodies have to stay chilled to slow down decomposition. But I have a theory that cold temperatures make my body burn more calories. It's better than a treadmill. Besides, no one comes in just to chat, so I can get a lot of work done. I suppose you're here about Mr. Roberts?”

“I am. What else do you know?”

“Kudos to my techs. They got him all put back together again, just like Humpty Dumpty, except for the missing foot and finger. After all that time out in the elements, this is amazingly complete.”

Justin stepped closer. Somehow the skeleton wasn't as disgusting as human flesh.

“I've been able to thoroughly examine the wound,” she continued as she grabbed three pieces of the skull and held them together, which highlighted a roundish area of missing bone. “The hole was created by a hard object like an aluminum baseball bat or a piece of pipe…except with sharp edges. Unfortunately, there's nothing left that will give us any DNA from the killer.”

“Great.” He just couldn't catch a break on this case. “Anything else?”

“No…well, yes. I can't say for sure because I don't know what the weapon was, but the damage around the hole in Mr. Roberts's skull was relatively minor. It wasn't shattered like it was a heavy blow…you know, like with a full swing.”

“Sharp-edged baseball bat–like weapon, not swung too hard,” he repeated thoughtfully.

“Ten-four, Justin.”

“When will you be finished with Mr. Roberts's remains?”

“I'm finished with them except for a few more photos. I'll box them up, and they can have them picked up later today.”

“Thanks, Janet. I'll let Mrs. Roberts know.”

Justin's office was on a different floor in the same building, so it took him only a few minutes to get there. He did a quick check of his voicemails and emails, then picked up his phone. His heart did a little skip beat when he heard Lori's voice.

“Lori, it's Justin,” he spoke into his cellphone.

“Hey, Justin. I didn't expect to hear from you so soon.”

“I dropped by the medical examiner's office, and she said you can tell your funeral home to come by this afternoon.”

“I'll let them know. I spoke to them earlier, and I've decided to have the memorial service here at the winery on Saturday at two. Now I've got to get the word out. Thank goodness for the Internet.”

She sounded distracted, understandably. He didn't think this was the best moment to push, but he really did need to start the interview process. “I know you'll be busy, but is it okay if I come back this afternoon and talk to your employees?”

“Of course. I'll tell them to expect you.”

“I'd rather you didn't. There's a lot to be said for the element of surprise.”

“Oh…right.”

“Maybe I'll see you while I'm there.”
Well, that sounded stupid
, he chided himself.

“I'll be here.”

That wasn't exactly a rousing invitation, but then, what did he expect? Every time she saw him he had bad news.

There was a sharp knock on the door. Lieutenant Franklin entered and sat down in one of the chairs in front of Justin's desk. “Anything new?”

Since the Roberts case was the hot topic around the office, Franklin didn't have to be more specific. Justin opened the report he had finished last night on his laptop. It was all committed to memory, but it kept him focused.

Justin looked at Franklin. “Janet's going to formally classify it a homicide. There will be a press release this afternoon. Cause of death, a blow to the back of the skull.” Justin pointed to the spot on his own head. “She said it was a hard object with sharp edges, but not a particularly hard blow. The skull didn't fracture into pieces.”

“What's next?”

“I'm working on the list of people to interview.” Justin leaned back in his chair. “Lori asked me to attend the memorial service Saturday at the winery.”

“Lori?” One of Franklin's black eyebrows arched eloquently.

“Mrs. Roberts,” Justin hurried to correct.
Stupid slip.
“I told her I'd go. She's going to introduce me to some of the people Mr. Roberts was acquainted with.”

“When are you going to interview her…formally, that is?”

“I've set up an appointment today.”

“This case has the potential to cause a media frenzy.” Franklin stood and started to leave. He paused in the doorway. “I read your reports and Googled the winery. Mrs. Roberts is quite a looker.”

Justin made a concerted effort to show no emotion or reaction to that observation. “You suspect something, Lieutenant?”

“I don't need to remind you that the Bureau of Justice reports that women are the perpetrators in 41 percent of spousal murders.”

“I've read the same reports, sir,” Justin concurred. His boss had ten years of Ranger experience on him, but this felt like an overt and unnecessary challenge to Justin's professionalism.

“Then you also know the preferred female method is poisoning.” Franklin raised his hand and began to count with his fingers. “The second is the wife hiring a professional killer. The third is the wife persuading a boyfriend to do the killing. All I'm saying is you should look for a boyfriend. And always follow the money.”

“Yes, sir.”

Franklin turned and walked briskly down the hallway without another word.

Justin wanted to get back to the winery as quickly as possible, but the mention of money reminded him that a little research into the financial situation should take precedence. Lori had told him she hadn't collected the insurance, but did Mark have other cash lying around? Contacting Mark's attorney would be a waste of time. But that wasn't the only way to get access to the financials.

It took two hours of persistence and creativity, but the results caused Justin to slump back in his chair. He immediately wanted to pick up the phone and hear Lori's denials. As much as he didn't want to believe she'd had any hand in Mark's death, this new evidence was pretty damning. Perhaps it was better delivered in person so he could gauge her reaction.

During the course of his research, he'd also been able to put together the entire picture of the victim. Thirty years of the man's life were contained on three handwritten pages of a legal pad. Not much of an epitaph for someone who had had every opportunity to make something of himself but failed. By all accounts, his only claim to fame had been getting a football scholarship to UT, then flunking out. Hell, everyone knew it didn't take a genius to pass while on an athletic scholarship. Apparently, he had skipped too many classes but also, more important, too many practices, and he'd given up on any attempt at getting a degree.

Justin looked over the notes on the yellow pages. Everything you'd want to know about the man. Everything except who had bashed his head in. And every day that passed reduced the chances of finding the killer…unless she was right there, in plain sight, running a winery.

He decided to put off talking to Lori's employees and jumped to the more likely suspects. Justin desperately wanted to find some evidence that wouldn't point so directly at Lori. In his gut he didn't think she was guilty, but so far everything he had found was very incriminating.

Justin had never been so torn. He was usually the model of objectivity. His reputation in the department was impeccable. Every one of his cases had been closed with satisfactory results. Was he letting his unexpected attraction to this woman throw him off his game? Was she playing him for a fool? Or was she the victim?

He stood so abruptly his chair rolled back and hit the wall. He holstered his gun, grabbed his hat, and headed out to prove the truth…one way or the other.

Justin was tempted to turn into the Crystal Springs driveway and confront Lori right away. But frankly, he wanted to sit on his information a little longer, mulling over the facts without letting the emotion of seeing Lori confuse him.

Instead, he continued another quarter of a mile down the road and turned into the next drive, which led to the Winston Winery. He pulled into a large parking lot to the side of the main building and sat in his vehicle for a moment to finish organizing the interview in his mind. A rapid tapping on his side window startled him. He jerked his head around and saw Jerry Winston, owner and founder of Winston Winery. Justin had researched him online, plus, Winston's face was on the label of all his wines, so he was very recognizable. Justin opened the door and stepped out.

“Ranger Archer,” he said and extended his hand.

Jerry's grip was firm. “Jerry Winston.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Winston. Thanks for agreeing to see me on such short notice.”

“No problem. Let's go into one of the tasting rooms, where it's cooler and we won't be interrupted.”

Justin followed Jerry around the corner and into the main building. The tasting room was much larger than Crystal Springs'. Jerry went into one of the half dozen side rooms. There was a single table in the center, and the walls were lined with oak barrels, which gave an intimacy to the room.

“Please sit down, Ranger Archer. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Water, please.”

Jerry walked over to the small bar at the end of the room and returned with a large bottle of water. “Glass?”

Justin shook his head. “They'd laugh me out of the Rangers for that. Thanks.” He opened it and took long drink. “Whew, it's hot out there.”

Jerry pulled out a chair and sat down across from Justin. He stared at him for a moment. “How can I help you?”

“I'm sure you've heard that a body was found on the property behind you.”

“I did. Probably a drifter.”

“Actually, it was Mark Roberts.”

“No shit!” Jerry appeared to be more surprised than upset.

“There hasn't been a public announcement yet.”

“Son of a bitch! Everyone thought he was off having a helluva time.” Jerry shook his head. “Are you sure?”

Justin nodded. “I am, sir. DNA has positively identified the remains. How long did you know Mark?”

Jerry sat back on his chair and rubbed his chin as he considered the question. “All his life. Our families have been neighbors for sixty or seventy years. We went to the same school, but I'm about ten years older than him, so we weren't there at the same time.”

“That's quite awhile,” Justin commented as he looked for any sign of grief on Jerry's face.

“Sure is. We didn't hang out much when we were kids, but after we were grown, we bumped into each other in town a few times.”

“I would have thought with the two of you living right next door, you'd have been good friends.”

“Not so much,” Jerry admitted. “His vineyard has been in his family for years. My land was a farm until I inherited it. I started the vineyard all on my own. His parents were great. They sort of mentored me.” Jerry grunted. “You probably already know about this, but we were going to combine our winemaking operations—you know, the crushing and pressing steps, maybe even the fermentation and clarification…” he said, his voice trailing off.

“Never happened?” It sounded like a good idea to Justin.

“We…No, I invested a fuck of a lot of money into the idea, but his parents were killed in a plane crash, and Mark took over. He shut down the whole operation, so no, it never happened.” His voice turned cold and his words terse as his fists clenched. “Let's just say that a partnership takes two. I guess I needed him more than he needed me.”

Justin glanced around. “It looks like you've done really well. How much land do you have?”

“Only fifty acres. I wanted to expand, but the son of a bitch who owns the land in the back was fucking greedy and is turning it into a housing development. With the drought, my wells dried up, and I was always digging deeper to find enough water for irrigation.”

“I heard you were trying to talk Mark into selling Crystal Springs.” Justin's comment was casual, but he watched carefully for Jerry's response.

“We threw around some figures.” Jerry frowned. “I thought we were close to an agreement when he…disappeared.”

Justin was a good reader of people, and Jerry Winston had told him all he was going to tell him today. He wanted to ask him about his plans for Lori, but Justin knew he wouldn't get a straight answer. “One last question, Mr. Winston. Can you think of anyone who wanted to see Mr. Roberts dead?”