Power (3 page)

The image of Darcy Chandler lying on that cold marble floor, her skull likely shattered along with untold other internal injuries, filled Jess’s mind. The shoes removed and set carefully aside filtered in next. That part just didn’t fit, unless they were already there before Chandler’s fall. Maybe forgotten for some reason. But then where were the shoes she had been wearing at the time of death? Had to be those Gucci pumps. They matched her dress. A dress that she would have had to hike up in order to throw a leg over that upstairs railing. That, Jess would come back to. For now, she needed info on Chandler’s husband, the Russian.

“Do you have reason to suspect that rumor is true?” This was a small, elite dance studio. The likelihood of any secret staying secret for long was somewhere in the vicinity of zero.

Andrea scrunched her face as if it pained her to speak on the subject. “That’s what everybody thinks but I can’t say for sure it’s true.”

“Any idea which mother the others thought was the troublemaker?” Beyond Andrea, six of the mothers waited—all wealthy, all gorgeous, whether by nature or by design. Could be any one of them.

Andrea gave another shake of her head, her eyes carefully averted. She suspected someone but she wasn’t saying. Jess could push for that when and if the time came.

“Andrea, would you say you know Darcy as well as any of the other assistant teachers or students, or moms, for that matter?”

Hesitation slowed her response but she nodded with conviction.

“I know you’re upset,” Jess hedged, “but I want you to answer the next question without analyzing your answer first. I’ll ask the question and you say exactly what comes to mind in that instant. Okay?”

“O… kay.”

Jess reached across the table and patted her hand. “Thank you, Andrea. I know this is just an awful time for you, but you’re helping more than you know.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes as she nodded, her lips pressed tightly together.

“Here we go. Do you believe”—Jess watched Andrea’s face closely for the coming reaction—“Darcy was capable of taking her own life?”

“No!” Her eyebrows drew together as she underscored her answer with an adamant shake of her head. “No way. She would never do that!”

“Not even with her husband cheating and divorce looming?” Jess had no evidence that indicated one manner of death over the other at this time. Still, a nasty divorce slanted the already odd circumstances in a more disturbing direction. Were there financial problems to boot? Not from the looks of things, but looks could be deceiving.

“That’s impossible,” Andrea stated firmly, her eyes reflecting that certainty. “I heard her talking to him just before she went into the house to see Ms. Dresher out. She wanted to make him pay for his infidelity.”

“Did he stop by?” A few moments ago Andrea had said she’d seen no one other than the dancers and Chandler. Then she remembered Dresher. Cutting Andrea some slack, extreme anxiety often caused confusion. But if the Russian was here anywhere near the time of death, Jess needed to know.

“She got a call from him on her cell. At least I think it was him. Ms. Darcy told whoever it was that she was going to make them pay one way or the other. Then she had to go because Ms. Dresher showed up with lunch.” Andrea flattened her palms on the table and stared directly into Jess’s eyes. “She was really angry. If you knew Ms. Darcy you would know she’s not the kind of person who would admit defeat and just kill herself. She would fight.” Tears spilled past her lashes. “No way did she do this on purpose.”

Jess nodded. “Thank you, Andrea. Anything else you think of, you call me immediately.”

The door opened and Chief of Police Daniel Burnett walked in. As if it hadn’t been only yesterday when Jess had last seen him, naked and sprawled in her bed, her entire being went on alert like a GPS locking in on a destination.

He looked damned good for a guy who’d been beaten and stabbed less than a week ago. Her throat tightened at the memory of those long hours they’d spent entwined in each other’s arms on Saturday night… and Sunday morning.

“Jess.” He nodded to her, a flash of remembered heat in those blue eyes, before shifting his focus to Andrea. “You okay, sweetie?”

The girl burst into tears as she jumped out of her chair and ran into his arms.

That was Jess’s cue to move on. “I’ll give you two some privacy. I have interviews to conduct.”

In view of the time and the emotional state of the girls and their mothers, not to mention Prescott’s scowl, Jess opted to share the load. She usually preferred to question potential witnesses herself but that didn’t make sense in this situation.

With a BPD uniform keeping the remaining daughters and mothers company, Prescott took one of the girls and her mother to another venue in the garden while Jess interviewed Corrine Dresher and her daughter, Katrina, in yet another. No wonder they’d needed such a fancy gardener. This place was like a maze, with dozens of lovely little seating areas created from nothing more than nature’s glory.

“When you entered the house to get the two missing boas,” Jess asked the girl when they were settled, “did you hear anything at all? A door? A phone? Footsteps?”

Katrina’s face pinched with visible effort as she thought hard on the question before answering. “It was quiet. I could hear the grandfather clock ticking. Then I saw Ms. Darcy on the floor.”

“Did Ms. Darcy say anything or move at all?”

Katrina shook her head. “I thought she was asleep, but her eyes were open.”

“Did you try to wake her up?”

The girl’s eyes widened as she nodded. “I shook her and called her name but she didn’t say anything.” Katrina touched her ear, then her lips. “There was blood. So I ran to get Andrea.” Big tears rolled down her cheeks. “Did I do something wrong when I tried to wake her up?” She turned to her mother. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I really didn’t!”

“Can’t you see how upset she is?” Ms. Dresher demanded. “You’ve held these girls here for more than an hour and we just want to go home. This has been horrifying for us all.”

Jess reached for patience. This mother was, as far as they knew, the last person to see Darcy Chandler alive. The daughter was the one to find her body. Anything either of them remembered could make all the difference. “I understand, ma’am. I have just a few more questions and I promise you can go home then.”

Ms. Dresher dabbed at her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to these girls. Haven’t they been through enough?” She huffed an exasperated sound. “Just do what you must so we can go home and mourn this terrible, terrible tragedy.”

“All righty then.” Jess focused her attention back on the daughter. “Katrina, I like your boa. Is it the only one that’s white?” The other girls had black boas, at least the ones who were wearing theirs. Jess made a mental note to check upstairs for the two that were missing.

Katrina’s stricken expression brightened. “I’m the best. Whoever performs the best the previous week gets to wear the white boa. Mr. Alex picks the superior performance each Saturday. This time he picked me. I get special privileges all week, like being Andrea’s helper.”

“Did you see Mr. Alex today?”

She wagged her head. “Ms. Darcy said he won’t be our teacher anymore.”

The split between Chandler and her husband appeared to be common knowledge as Andrea had indicated.

The girl peered up at her mother. “Who’ll be our teacher now?”

Both erupted in tears.

Jess managed to get a few answers out of the mother. She’d brought the lunch, veggie pizzas and vitamin water, as Andrea stated. Chandler had seemed fine when she’d walked Dresher to the door on her way out. She had gotten a call on her cell but Dresher could not speculate as to the identity of the caller. The two women had hardly exchanged a dozen words during her brief visit. Darcy Chandler was alive and well and ranting at her caller, Dresher insisted, when she departed the premises. Some minutes later, Dresher couldn’t say how many, though she willingly showed Jess the call list on her cell, she received a call from her daughter who was hysterical and who had just gone into the house and found the body. That call had come from Katrina’s cell phone at one-oh-two, which narrowed time of death considerably.

Darcy Chandler had fallen between twelve fifteen and one o’clock. And based on what they had so far, she had been alone in the house… just Darcy and those damned shoes.

Even though the ME had taken the body away, Jess suggested that Ms. Dresher and her daughter not exit through the house. The child didn’t need any further trauma, and no one needed access to the house until Jess had another look around.

The rest of the interviews went the same. No one saw or heard anything. Darcy Chandler seemed distracted but otherwise fine. No one admitted to knowing any additional details about the divorce but all appeared upset at the idea that the teaching team had been torn apart. And all showed more concern about who would take over the girls’ dance instruction than the fact that a woman was dead. Extending the benefit of the doubt, Jess supposed the lack of compassion could be chalked up to shock.

By the time the interviews were completed and Jess returned to the conservatory, Annette Denton had arrived to take her daughter, Andrea, home.

Jess composed a smile for the woman who was Dan’s most recent ex-wife. That part might not have bothered Jess so much were the woman not totally gorgeous and entirely elegant. Everything about her was perfect.

“Annette.”

The other woman gifted Jess with a forlorn glance. “This is just devastating.” To Dan she said, “I can’t believe she would fall like that. She’s been a dancer her whole life. Balance is everything.”

“You knew her well?” Jess inquired.

“Darcy and Annette have been friends since elementary school,” Dan answered for her. “They attended Brighton Academy together.”

Jess wanted to remind him that she was speaking to Annette but she opted to ignore him instead. However, she did make a mental note of the fact that Annette had attended the same fancy school as Dan, which meant they had known each other most of their lives. News to Jess, who had gone to public school and hadn’t met Dan until she was seventeen. Just one more indication of how different her world and Dan’s had been. She hadn’t known any of his rich-kid friends back then… only him and that crazy wild passion that burned between them.

“If she didn’t lose her balance and fall,” Jess countered, “that would mean she jumped.” Which was a strange way to commit suicide since, at that height, the odds of survival with horrifying consequences were far too great. “Do you have reason to believe Ms. Chandler had sufficient motive to want to end her life?”

The woman’s marriage was on the rocks, but would that have been enough to push her over the edge, figuratively and literally? Not according to Andrea and the others. If Annette was a close friend of Darcy’s, she might be privy to inside knowledge that the kids couldn’t know or comprehend.

A number of emotions played across Annette’s face, not the least of which was confusion. “Are you suggesting suicide?” She shook her head. “I don’t believe that. Darcy would never do that to herself, much less her parents or her students. She loved life—her life—far too much.”

“Would her husband want her out of the way?” The home and dance studio were Chandler’s, obviously. What did he stand to lose in this divorce?

“Alexander?” Annette laughed but quickly pressed her fingers to her lips and adopted a properly shamed countenance. “I’m sorry, but he’s absolutely not that desperate. And he loved Darcy. He just didn’t have it in him to remain faithful. She knew that about him. She’d simply had enough this time. A divorce was inevitable from the day they said ‘I do.’ ”

“Do you know how we can contact him?”

Annette’s hand went to her chest. “Are you saying he doesn’t know?”

“We haven’t been able to locate him.”

Dan stepped away to take a call on his cell.

“He has a loft in Five Points.” Annette frowned. “He’s not answering his cell?”

“Unfortunately not, and his voice-mail box is full,” Jess elaborated.

“The husband is downtown,” Dan announced as he rejoined their friendly little huddle. “BPD picked him up a few minutes ago at the Botanical Gardens. He was meditating. Chief Black is interviewing him.”

Jess’s jaw dropped, but not because they’d found the missing husband meditating at a local point of interest. “Why is Black interviewing him?” This was her case. Her detectives had been the first on the scene. Her first real day on the job and already the good old boys’ network had reared its ugly head.

“I should take Andrea home.” Annette gave Dan a hug, then smiled briefly for Jess. “Let me know if there is anything else I can do.”

When Andrea had gotten in another hug, the strikingly beautiful mother and her equally stunning offspring departed the premises.

Jess waited until she had Dan’s attention. “Why,” she demanded, “is Deputy Chief Black interviewing the husband?”

“Crimes Against Persons does homicide, Jess,” he reminded her unnecessarily. “
If
this is a homicide, Black isn’t too happy that you tried to hijack his case.”

“I didn’t try to hijack anything. My detectives got the call. They were the first on the scene. I was under the impression that murder fell within the scope of my unit as well.” So this was the way it was going to be. No surprise. The Chandler case would be a high-profile one whatever the cause of death turned out to be. Black didn’t want Jess horning in on his territory under the circumstances.

“We can iron this out downtown.”

“Fine.” Jess grabbed her bag. “As long as everyone involved understands that this is my case, we’re good.”

Dan took her by the arm, waylaying her departure. She mentally kicked herself for shivering at his touch. Damn it. She was old enough to have better control than that. Apparently age had nothing to do with chemistry or one’s ability to contain it. A textbook illustration was the idea that she was ridiculously jealous of Annette Denton. That was just wrong.

“As good as you are at the job, Jess,” Dan said, his tone and his gaze uncomfortably direct, sobering her instantly, “there will be no playing favorites. We talked at length on the subject this weekend. You said, and I agreed, that on the job there can be no perception of favoritism. We follow the chain of command. This case belongs to Crimes Against Persons. Are we clear?”