File M for Murder (23 page)

Sean must have read at least some of my thoughts in my expression, because he looked increasingly disturbed.

“No, Dad, I know what you’re thinking. I’m sure Laura didn’t know about any of this. She’d never condone crap like this.”

“What are you talking about?” Laura’s sharp tone surprised both of us. “What wouldn’t I condone?”

I turned to see her standing in the kitchen doorway. She scowled at Sean and me as she advanced toward us. Diesel went to her, chirping a welcome. She paused several feet from me to pat Diesel’s head.

“Come sit down, sweetheart. How are you feeling?” I stood and pulled out a chair for her.

“I’m feeling better, thanks.” Laura sat and folded her arms across her chest. Her expression turned mulish. “What are you two talking about? Something to do with me, I know.”

I resumed my seat, and Sean and I exchanged glances. He shrugged, and I knew it was up to me to answer Laura.

“Sean printed some of the files from the thumb drive.” I indicated the papers on the table with a slight jerk of my head. “We’ve examined them, and they reveal some nasty aspects to Lawton’s personality.” I paused for a moment. “Aspects that I can’t believe you knew about, frankly, or you wouldn’t have remained a friend.”

Laura stared hard at me and then at her brother. Slowly, as if reluctant, she reached for the papers and pulled them toward her. She drew a deep breath and began to read the one on top—Lawton’s savage letter about Ralph Johnston’s play.

“How about some tea? Or something to eat?” I asked.

“Hot tea would be nice.” Laura’s gaze didn’t waver from the letter as she spoke.

With a motion of his hand that indicated I should remain seated, Sean got up to make the tea for her. I nodded, then watched with mounting concern and unease as Laura read through the short stack of papers.

She was still reading when Sean set the cup of tea in front of her. She picked it up and took a few sips as she continued to read. Her face reddened and then paled a few times before she put the last paper down.

“That pig. ‘Experience, manhood, honour, ne’er before did violate so itself.’” She shook her head.

“Shakespeare, right?” Sean glanced at me.

“I think so,” I said when Laura failed to respond. “But I’m not sure of the play.”

“
Antony and Cleopatra
,” Laura said. “And here’s another
one: ‘Slave, souless villain, dog! O rarely base!’” She rubbed her eyes, and I could see she was crying. “I could think of a lot more, if I weren’t so angry with him.”

Before I could move, Sean got up and knelt by her, putting his arm around her. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he held her until she calmed. Then he kissed her forehead before resuming his seat.

Laura looked at me, lovely even after crying, and my heart melted. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry that you have to know about such vulgar things. You had no idea about any of this, did you?”

“No, Daddy, I didn’t.” She shrugged, her expression a mixture of puzzlement and sadness. “He could be an ass sometimes, but never anything like this with me. He could be really cutting with things he said, but it was only here in Athena that I saw him turn really nasty.”

“You probably brought out the best in him. Around you, at least for a while, he tried to be a better person. I’d like to think that anyway.” I leaned forward and grasped one of her hands. Her fingers curled around mine and held tight for a moment.

“Poor Damitra.” Laura sighed. “I can’t be too irritated with her now, even though she’s a giant pain most of the time. I had no idea she was being treated like that. Men are such pigs, sometimes.” She smiled briefly at Sean and me in turn. “With certain exceptions, thankfully.” She drained her cup and rose from the table. “I think I’ll have more tea. When are we going to eat? I’m starving.”

By now it was almost six o’clock, and I discovered that I too was hungry. “Let me see what our options are.” I went to the fridge and checked inside. Azalea generally kept us supplied with casseroles and other ready-made meals, and I found a large dish labeled
CKN SPCH
that I translated as a chicken and spinach dish.

I announced my find, and both Laura and Sean agreed that sounded fine. Into the oven it went to heat while I prepared a salad. Sean started a fresh pitcher of iced tea—one of the best kitchen gadgets I ever bought was an iced tea maker—and we sat down to a hearty meal twenty minutes later.

While we ate I kept a covert watch on Laura. She was quieter than usual, and I knew the revelations about Connor Lawton’s true character had bothered her. She caught me a couple of times and offered what I considered a brave smile each time. If she wanted to talk, I would be ready, but I figured she would need some time to herself to process everything.

Stewart and Dante appeared as we were finishing, and Diesel greeted his playmate with a plaintive warble. Dante bounced up and down around the much larger cat, whimpering and emitting the occasional short bark. As the humans watched with bemused smiles, Diesel placed one of his paws on the dog’s back and pushed him down. Dante knew who the alpha was and submitted meekly.

Laura excused herself, pleading tiredness, and after Sean and I both gave her quick hugs, she departed upstairs. Diesel came to me and warbled a couple of times before he turned and followed Laura. I knew he was telling me he would take good care of my daughter.

Sean and I sat with Stewart as he consumed the remains of the casserole and the salad. I pretended not to notice when he slipped tidbits of chicken to Dante. The dog would have turned into a complete butterball by now, the way Stewart fed him from the table, if it weren’t for the vigorous exercise he got playing with Diesel in the backyard at least twice a day.

We filled Stewart in on the latest developments, and he was properly horrified over the attack on Laura. “When
you find out who was responsible, let me know,” he said, his face darkened by anger. “I’ll help beat the crap out of the jerk.”

Sean grinned and said, “It’s a deal.”

Not long after that I decided I was ready to go upstairs and try to relax. I probably should have read more of the files from Lawton’s thumb drive, but I was too tired. This had been a long and difficult day, and my headache had come back with a vengeance.

Upstairs I took some aspirin and got ready for bed. I tried to read for a few minutes, but I found it difficult to concentrate. I put the book aside and turned out the light.

Sometimes when I’m really tired, my mind fixes itself into a seemingly endless loop, and I have trouble going to sleep. I figured tonight might be that way because of all the stress of the day. But I soon drifted off.

I awoke sometime later to the sound of an alarm and the smell of smoke.

Three nerve-wracking, exhausting hours later, I sat in the kitchen with my family, both two- and four-legged, to take stock of our situation.

“I’ll never complain about your filthy habit, ever again.” Laura cast a tired but fond glance at her brother.

“Same here, I think.” I suppressed a yawn. “We’re incredibly lucky you happened to be on the back porch. The damage could have been so much worse.” Diesel meowed and rubbed against my thigh. I scratched his head to reassure him. The noise and excitement tonight had frightened him badly.

“I just wish I’d caught the bastard.” Sean, fatigue obvious in his expression and posture, frowned.

“At least you scared him off before he could set more fires.” Stewart shivered and clutched Dante closer to his chest. The dog whimpered and tried to lick Stewart’s chin.

Sean had gone out to the back porch around ten to have a cigar and unwind. When he finished an hour or so later,
he decided to stay there a while longer. He liked to sit there in the darkness. The glow from the street lights at the front of the house barely penetrated, and he found the atmosphere conducive to thought.

As often happened, however, he drifted off in his chair, he told us. He awoke sometime later to sounds of an intruder in the backyard. Before he could even get out of the chair to investigate, he heard the noise of the fire as it took hold at the corner of the porch. He yelled as he scrambled through the door into the yard. He barely made out a dark shape as it fled around the corner of the house.

Sean continued to yell for help as he ran for the water hose to douse the flames. Both Laura and Justin, whose bedrooms overlook the back of the house, heard him. Laura called 911 while Justin ran downstairs, clad only in his underwear and a ratty T-shirt, to help Sean. Stewart soon followed after, handing his dog over to Laura, who also had Diesel with her. I woke up during this and was almost mindless with worry until I knew everyone was safely out of the house.

By the time the fire department and the police arrived, the fire was almost out. I met them on the front walk along with Laura, Diesel, and Dante. The firemen went into immediate action, and Sean, Stewart, and Justin joined us in the front a little later.

Time blurred after that. Between the questions from the police and the fire chief, I felt my head spinning. Neighbors had come from several nearby houses and stood on the sidewalk near the street, held back by two policemen. Diesel cowered against me, overcome by the number of strange people and the noisy activity going on around us. I did my best to reassure him, but before long I felt about as bewildered as he did.

Finally the fire department was satisfied the fire was out,
without a lot of damage, I was happy to hear. Everyone submitted to thorough questioning, and by three-thirty we were all together in the kitchen trying to make sense of what happened.

“What I don’t get is, why would someone want to burn down this house?” Justin shook his head. “It makes no sense.”

“It’s my fault.” Laura, her expression grim, glanced at each of us in turn. “Whoever killed Connor must think I know something. Either that or someone hates me so much he doesn’t care whom he harms. I’m sorry to be the cause of this.”

“Nonsense,” I said, my voice a little heated. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Laura smiled briefly.

“The police are going to watch the house,” Sean reminded us.

“The rest of the night, at least.” Stewart frowned. “But what about tomorrow and after?”

“I’ll help keep watch. My earliest class is at ten, so I can stay up late and sleep in a little.” Justin gazed at Laura like a puppy watching its owner and hoping for a treat.

“Thank you, Justin,” I said, trying not to smile. “That won’t be necessary. The police will keep watching the house, and I’m sure once Kanesha Berry has heard about this, the sheriff’s department will probably get involved. If all else fails, I’ll hire a security firm to protect the house until whoever did it is caught.”

“I
hate
this. All because of that jackass Connor.” Laura’s savage tone shocked us all, I think. “I wish I’d never met him.”

I wish you hadn’t either
, I thought. I would never say that to her, however. She was exhausted, as indeed we all were, not to mention the high level of stress she was under.

“It’s time everyone went back to bed.” Sean stood. “Come on, there’s nothing more we can do now. We’ll be safe with the police keeping an eye on the house.”

Stewart, with Dante still in his arms, stood also. “Good idea. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I can use all the beauty sleep I can get.” He fluttered his eyelashes at Sean. “I have to look my best for my hunky housemate, or he won’t pay any attention to me.”

Sean guffawed. “Face it, Princess Not-So-Charming, you need more than sleep to get
my
attention.”

Stewart placed his free hand over his heart and pretended to swoon. Dante barked. “So cruel, so heartless.” He paused. “And so full of it. I’m more man than you could ever handle anyway.” He swept past Sean and strutted his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Justin looked slightly shocked at this interplay between Stewart and Sean, but he should have been used to it by now. Laura and I laughed, and Sean pretended to be wounded. His wide grin spoiled the effect, however.

“Off to bed, all of you,” I said. “Come on, Diesel. We need our beauty sleep, too.” I made shooing motions with my hands and started turning out lights.

The three preceded Diesel and me upstairs. As I headed for my bed I silently blessed Stewart. He always knew how—and when—to break the tension. We all needed to recover our balance, and by getting us to laugh, Stewart had us off to a good start.

The next morning, after a sound sleep, I woke to the phone ringing. I groaned. A short sleep, because the clock informed me that it was two minutes past seven. I fumbled for the receiver, wanting to answer it before anyone else was wakened by it.

“Hello.” I wanted to say,
Who the heck is calling here this early?
, but good manners forbade me. I noticed Diesel was not beside me on the bed. He was probably with Laura.

“Mr. Harris? Kanesha Berry here.” Her clipped tones indicated she was in business-as-usual mode. I expected her to call about the fire, but not so early. Did the woman never sleep?

“Good morning, Deputy. What can I do for you?”