Power (28 page)

He parked in her drive and made the journey up the walk to her door. When they were married, he had lived in this house with her and Andrea. It wasn’t his home and at first he hadn’t wanted to move in here. But Annette had pointed out that Andrea needed to feel like she hadn’t lost her home as well as her father. So for Andrea’s sake he had moved in. But this had never been a home to him. This had been Brandon Denton’s home. It still was as far as Dan was concerned. Whether Denton opted to stay here or not.

Annette opened the door before he had a chance to knock. Her face was flushed from crying. That was the first thing he noted. The second was that she was wearing a robe.

“I’m so glad you came.” She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside.

“I can’t stay long,” he warned as she closed the door. And locked it.

She turned to Dan, more tears crested on her lashes. “He says that since Andrea is in college we should sell the house. Downsize. He wants me to give up my home. I must have been out of my mind to take him back.”

“You have an outstanding attorney.” He knew this from experience. “If you want to keep the house, fight for it.” Dan surveyed the soaring foyer. “Make sure that’s what you really want. It’s a big place to take care of alone.”

She wrapped her arms around him. “Come sit with me. Would you like a glass of wine or a beer?”

He removed himself from her embrace. “I can’t stay, Annette. I have to meet Jess and Detectives Wells and Harper. We have some issues to iron out on a case.”

A frown worried her brow. “Can you come back after you’re finished? I really need to talk to you.” She hugged her arms around herself. “You know what I’m going through better than anyone. You always know the right course to take.”

“I do know what you’re going through, Annette. We’ve been there before. After your first divorce from Brandon. That’s a place I can’t revisit. I adore Andrea and I hope you and I can remain friends, but that’s all we can be.”

He’d done it. Said what needed to be said.

Tears welled in her eyes and he wanted to bang his head against the wall. He absolutely did not want to hurt her. But she was forcing the issue.

“It’s Jess, isn’t it?” She blinked back the tears. Resignation registered in her expression. “You still have feelings for her.”

He plowed a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. Was it Jess? Not entirely. “You are a beautiful, intelligent woman, Annette. What we had for that short time was great. But it wasn’t what either of us really wanted. We found that out pretty quickly.” He laughed sadly. “And I genuinely appreciate our friendship now just as I did before we became a couple. This isn’t about another woman; it’s about facing the reality of who we are and what we really want. I think we both know this is not it.”

She waved him off and shook her head, her eyes bright again. “You’re right. I know this. But I also know it’s her you really want. Maybe that’s why I feel so afraid.”

He frowned. “Why would you be afraid?”

“We’ve known each other a long time, Dan. You’ve always been there for me. Especially these past three or four years. Now it feels like I’m losing every part of you to her.”

Well, there was a mouthful. “I don’t know what to say.”

She smiled, the expression a little sad. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll get used to it and eventually I’ll be okay with it. I should have realized the first time I saw you two together that you were off the market.”

He laughed, sort of. “I’m not sure I was on the market, but Jess would definitely tell you that she has not made any major purchases, not even a lease.”

“Either she’s kidding herself or you’re kidding yourself. It’s inevitable, Dan. Mark my words.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know about that, but I do know this. Twenty years ago I screwed up with Jess. The thing I’ve realized the past couple of weeks is that if it takes me twenty more, I will make it right. We may never be anything more than friends, but I’ll do it right this time.”

Annette hugged him and whispered, “She’s a lucky woman.”

Dan felt a smile tug at his lips. “No. I’m the lucky one.”

Cotton Avenue, 5:35 p.m.

“Everyone is in place, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Sergeant.” Jess was ready to get this show under way. “Chief Black arrived with the Russian?”

“He did.”

“Good.” That was a huge relief. She needed everyone here if this was going to work.

Dorothy Chandler had made it clear that she did not want the bastard anywhere near her family, but she had agreed considering what Jess had planned.

When all was said and done, Jess was pinning her hopes on another confession that might not come. If she could get the right players in place, maybe the truth would find its way to the surface—with the proper prodding.

It had taken some finagling but the cast was, it seemed, all here.

After one last appraisal of her staging on the second floor, she turned to Harper. “A final walk-through, Sergeant, and we’ll be ready.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Downstairs the crowd was thinning. Dorothy Chandler had gone all out to bid farewell to her beloved granddaughter. The food, the flowers, the china and linens. Not to mention the crystal and silver. And, of course, the lovely little orchestra. Talk about going out in style. Even Jess was impressed, and this sort of gala didn’t usually move her much.

As she crossed the parlor, her attention was drawn to Burnett, his mother on one side of him, his father on the other. Burnett fit in perfectly in this world. But then he’d been groomed for this his entire life. Which made Jess and him kind of like vinegar and water. They most likely wouldn’t ever mix.

She would have to remind herself to tell him that his navy suit was her favorite. Brought out the color of his eyes. And something about the cut went above and beyond the call of duty to complement his tall, lean build.

Before she moved on, his gaze connected with hers and she gave him a nod. Not because he looked damned awesome, but because he had her back and that meant more to her than all the promotions and raises in the world.

Lori, Harper, and Jess converged next to the French doors at the rear of the house. Lori had made her way through the dining room and kitchen. Harper had threaded his way through the trail of those saying their good-byes in the entry hall.

“Andrea has taken the girls to the garden,” Lori confirmed.

Jess nodded. “Good.” She didn’t want any of those little girls accidently walking into the middle of what was about to happen. Lieutenant Prescott was in the garden as well to make sure none of those still lingering outside came back into the house.

“Let’s do it.”

Lori and Harper fanned out to take their positions.

Jess wandered. The closest of friends and members of the family were all that remained inside the mansion. Jess didn’t know any of them except the dance moms and their daughters she had interviewed five days ago. The beige suit she wore wasn’t her favorite but it fit in well enough, she supposed. Just this time yesterday she’d been butting heads with gangbangers.

How was a girl ever to know the right outfit to wear, much less the perfect shoes?

Jess had checked Darcy Chandler’s closet that first day. The woman loved her shoes. Those shoes had told a story that Jess hadn’t been able to ignore.

She wandered through the remaining folks gathered. There was the Russian, who had, by all accounts, loved his wife. He’d just had a problem with fidelity. But his wife had had enough.

Then she was dead.

Jess’s gaze roamed the room until she found Corrine Dresher. Now there was the lady with the real motive. Her daughter may have been fathered by the Russian, who then left her to pursue Darcy. She had obviously decided to return after all this time to collect on her little growing dividend.

But why wait until now?

She appeared to have been receiving some sort of payment all along, so it wasn’t necessarily about the money.

Then there was the child. Allegedly mean-spirited. Not a very good dancer. The other girls probably made fun of her. Had her and her mother’s lives been difficult? Had they come here with hatred in their hearts and vengeance on their minds?

Often children merely acted out what they heard and saw at home.
You are what you live
. If Corrine said ugly things about the other little girls, Katrina likely adopted that behavior.

With Darcy out of the way and Daddy getting a big insurance settlement, perhaps they could finally be together as a family. The one thing Corrine and Katrina had never had.

But then the Russian had confessed to killing his wife.

Considering that Darcy and the Russian had no children of their own, being with Corrine and Katrina might have been his only hope to have a family in the truest sense of the word.

So why the sudden confession?

Jess checked her watch. It was time.

As if they had synchronized their watches, Andrea hurried into the parlor from the front entry hall. She walked straight up to Corrine Dresher. Jess didn’t have to be in earshot to know what she said.
Ms. Dresher, Katrina went upstairs and refuses to come back down. No one’s supposed to be up there
.

Dresher was heading for the stairs before Andrea finished speaking.

Jess followed. Giving her a good head start.

Behind her, amid those still gathered, Chief Black would be watching for his cue.

The musicians continued to play, the elegant tune uplifting, though Jess couldn’t place it to save her soul. Something by Mozart, she thought.

As she reached the upper part of the staircase, she saw Corrine standing in the upstairs hall, staring dumbfounded at the elements Jess had staged. A chair sat under the chandelier and a bright pink boa hung from its ornate arms.

“I haven’t quite figured out how the boa got trapped in the chandelier,” Jess explained.

Corrine’s attention snapped to Jess as she took the final steps up onto the landing. “What is this?” she asked with admirable shock and maybe even a pinch of disgust.

“That’s how Darcy Chandler fell over the railing.” Jess gestured to the chair she had dragged over from the desk at the end of the hall. “A boa was trapped in the chandelier for some reason and she pulled the chair over to get it down.” Jess shook her head. “I knew there had to be a reason she removed her shoes and set them aside. This was it.”

“What’re you talking about?” As indignant as Corrine sounded, the fear was beginning to show in her eyes.

“Her shoes.” Jess slipped off her shoes and placed them just as Chandler had placed hers. “She put them there so she could climb up on the chair seat. The trouble is, whoever pushed her over the railing didn’t notice her shoes.”

“Someone pushed her?” Corrine asked, her voice noticeably high-pitched now. “I thought Alexander fought with her and that was how she fell.”

Jess shook her head. “You saw him downstairs, didn’t you?”

“I did.” She adopted a look of shock and disgust. “And frankly I’m stunned the family allowed him to come after what he did.”

“That’s only because he recanted his confession.” Jess shrugged. “Apparently he’s innocent.”

“I didn’t hear anything about that.” Corrine visibly braced. “It wasn’t on the news.”

Jess nodded. “It was. The five o’clock news. Only you were here, so you didn’t see it.”

“What you’re saying makes no sense. Why would Darcy have been up on a chair? And why is that boa hanging there like that? What’re you trying to prove?”

“Darcy died because of a boa like that.” Jess gestured to the feathered accessory. “She was trying to get it down. Somehow it got hung up there. We found the feathers trapped on the chandelier from where it was pulled loose. The medical examiner found tiny pieces of those same feathers stuck to the fingers of Darcy’s right hand. Like I said”—she indicated the chair and the boa again—“that’s why she fell.”

“So it was an accident,” Corrine suggested, her tone and expression wary.

“It might have been except that whoever put the boa there was watching when Darcy climbed into that chair to rescue it.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“There were two people, by their own admission and based on eyewitness accounts, who were the last to see Darcy Chandler before she died. You, when you brought lunch for the girls, and then your daughter, Katrina, when she came inside and found her.”

“What does that prove? How do you know Darcy fell off a chair? You’re guessing,” Corrine accused.

Jess touched her lower left leg. “The medical examiner also found a bruise where Darcy hit her leg on this railing as she fell over it. The only way for her to bruise her leg there was to fall from a position above floor level.” She pointed to the chair. “So you see, the evidence speaks for itself. I know who set up the whole scenario. I just can’t figure out how
you
could have put the chair back in place and not notice the shoes.”

“What are you implying?” she demanded.

“Alexander told the police what you did, Corrine. That’s why he’s here. We know you pushed Darcy over that railing.” That wasn’t exactly true… the Russian hadn’t admitted anything new just yet.

Corrine’s defiant expression wilted into one of defeat. “I’d had it with her. When she dismissed Alexander from the studio, that was the last straw. She was so determined to hurt him and she was only hurting the girls. But I did not kill her. After I delivered lunch that day, she and I came back into the house and I followed her upstairs. We were arguing.” She hugged her arms around herself. “We were always arguing. She was a bitch. I don’t know how the boa got trapped in the chandelier. Perhaps when the girls were playing earlier that morning. They throw them around sometimes.”

She fell silent for a long moment, her expression distant. “We were arguing and she climbed up on the chair to try and get the damned thing free. I said something, she shouted something back, and suddenly she was falling. I don’t know if she turned the wrong way. Or just lost her balance. But she fell. I was in shock and afraid so I snatched down the boa and moved the chair. Then I rushed to check on her but she was dead. I don’t even remember what I did then, but I know I left because when my daughter called I was already two or three miles away.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “It was an accident. A horrible, horrible accident.”