Stiff Penalty (A Mattie Winston Mystery) (16 page)

“And still work together.”

“It will be nice not having to hide anything anymore,” I said, the relief I felt clear in my voice. While I seem to have a knack for sniffing out subterfuge, I suck at being a part of it.

“Yes, it will,” Hurley agreed. “We can be open and honest and in everyone’s face. Hell, Winston, we could even get married.”

I sighed and gave him a weary look. “We’ve been over this, Hurley.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. You think I’m being trapped into something I don’t want to do.”

“I can’t help but feel that way, Hurley. If I wasn’t pregnant, would you be proposing to me right now?”

He opened his mouth to answer, and I sensed a knee-jerk response about to come out.

“Be honest, Hurley,” I cautioned before he got a word out. Then I pinned him with a laser-eyed focus.

He stared back at me for two blinks, and then his mouth closed into a tight-lipped grimace.

“See?” I said.

Hurley frowned. “Just because I might not have proposed to you right now if there wasn’t a pregnancy in the picture doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have done it eventually, or that it’s not the right thing to do.”

“Then there’s no rush, right?” I said. “So let’s give it some time. For now, and until after this kid is born, let’s table the topic, okay?”

“But I—”

“Here we go,” Richmond said, arriving with our meals while I again cursed his timing. He gave Hurley his egg, bacon, and croissant sandwich, gave me my garlic bagel with cream cheese, and then set down his own plate, a healthy egg-white omelet with mushrooms and onions. We all dug in with gusto, and the conversation ceased for several minutes.

About halfway through our meals, Richmond said, “So what do you guys think about what I told you? This is good news, no?”

“It is,” I said. “But I’m curious. When you say everyone knows about me and Hurley, just who do you mean? Does the chief know?”

“He didn’t come right out and say so, but I expect he does. All the officers and dispatchers know, so if the chief doesn’t know now, he will soon enough.”

“And you don’t think it will cause any problems?”

“Not with the videos in play, and not if Hurley and I team up with you. It basically eliminates all of the conflict of interest issues.”

I smiled at Hurley, but he didn’t smile back. Apparently he was still sulking over the marriage thing. Richmond finished his breakfast and said, “I imagine the two of you have some things to discuss. Steve, I’m sure you won’t mind keeping an eye on our girl here, will you?”

“Not at all.”

“Good. Then I’m going to head over to the station and get things started. I already paid for the meals. Breakfast is on me today. The chief plans to announce his news at eight-thirty, and I have an interview on the Ames case scheduled for nine, and a lawyered interview with the Ames family at ten. So you guys can take some time and talk things over. Steve, when you get over to the station I’ll brief you on the Ames case to get you up to speed.”

“Great, Bob. And thanks, both for breakfast and the rest of it. I appreciate it.”

I echoed Hurley’s sentiments, and then Richmond left, leaving the two of us alone. We ate in silence for several minutes until our food was finished, leaving us with just our coffees. Hurley leaned back in his chair and looked at me with a funny smile.

“What?” I said, starting to feel uncomfortable.

“I’m just taking in the sight of you. I really did miss you these past two months.”

“I missed you, too.”

Hurley leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. “Look, I get that you don’t want to get married yet, and I get why. I’m willing to back off on that for now, but I want you to promise me you’ll keep an open mind about it. And I also want you to promise me you won’t cut me out of your life. Whether you believe it or not, I’m truly delighted that we’re having a kid together. I’m excited about being a father. And regardless of what happens between the two of us, I intend to be a big part of this kid’s life. Okay?”

“Okay,” I said with a smile.

“Good.” He glanced at his watch. “My place is only five minutes from here, and we have nearly an hour before the chief’s announcement. I don’t suppose I could convince you to come by for a quick, um, reunion, so to speak.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively for a second, and then his expression froze. “Wait, you can still do that, right? I mean with the baby and all.”

“Oh, I can still do it,” I said. And I wanted to more than anything. “What about Emily?”

“She’s in school.”

“They let her come back after being gone so long?”

“I enrolled her in school down in Chicago while we were there. So she didn’t miss much. She’ll have to do some extra stuff here to get caught up, but I think it will do her good. And since she’s in school, my house is empty.”

“We wouldn’t want the house to get lonely,” I said, feigning innocence.

“No, we wouldn’t.”

We were out the door twenty seconds later.

“S
o you and Hurley worked things out,” Dr. Maggie says to me. “That’s great.”

“You’d think so, but it didn’t go as smoothly as I hoped.”

“How so?”

“Well, for starters, there’s the new videographer, who looks like she stepped right out of
Vogue
. She’s this gorgeous, twenty-something redhead who’s built like a model.”

“Ah, I see. You feel threatened by her.”

“Wouldn’t you? I mean, look at me. I look like a beached whale. I can’t take a bath anymore because I can’t get out of the tub, and I haven’t colored my hair in five months. I’ve got roots longer than Alex Haley’s. Not to mention that my hormones have me vacillating day to day between a barely tamed shrew and a screaming bitch on wheels. Who would you pick?”

“Has Hurley started a relationship with this woman?”

“No, at least I don’t think he has. But that hasn’t stopped her from trying.”

“So she’s been making a play for Hurley?”

“Oh, it’s been more than a play. It’s more like the unabridged edition of
War and Peace
.”

“Have you talked with Hurley about it?”

“No. I don’t want to look like some insecure, jealous dink, even if I am one. Besides, if I bring it up, I’m afraid he’ll propose again.”

“Why? Did he ask again?”

“No.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to marry him?”

“I am, at least for now. I’ve already explained my reasons to him and to you. I don’t understand why it’s so hard for you people to grasp.”

“Maybe it’s because ‘we people’ can see how much you love the guy, and how much he loves you.”

“It’s not that simple,” I grumble. “Things have happened. Besides, if he loves me so much, why hasn’t he said so?”

“Is that what’s holding you back at this point? That he hasn’t told you he loves you?”

“More or less,” I tell her. It isn’t the only reason, or even the primary one anymore, but I’m not ready to tell her the rest of the story yet. “I mean, if he can’t say that to me, it makes it all the more obvious that he’s simply offering to do the deed because he thinks it’s the right thing to do. That’s not a good way to start a marriage.”

“No, I suppose not. So what sort of relationship do you see the two of you having in the future?”

“Well, there’s our working relationship, of course. And we are very good together in that regard.”

“In that regard? What other regards are there?”

“Well, there’s the sex. We seem to be quite good in that department, too.”

“So where are the problems?”

“I think I’m in love with him, and he’s in like with me,” I say, verbalizing my fear for the first time.

“You’re afraid.”

It wasn’t a question.

“What, exactly, are you afraid of? If you were to accept Hurley’s proposal and get married, what would be the worst-case scenario?”

“That we’d end up hating one another. And we’d be forced to still work together, and parent together . . . it has the potential for being very awkward. I know, because it’s extremely awkward with David, and we don’t have a kid together.”

“How would you feel if Hurley married someone else?”

I shot her a look of horror. “Why would you ask me that? Have you heard something?”

Maggie smiles. It is the same patient, beneficent smile she uses on me all the time, and today it is pissing me off because I feel as if she’s treating me like a child. The fact that I may be acting like one shouldn’t figure into the matter. She’s a shrink. She should know better. “No, I haven’t heard anything. I’m simply trying to get you to explore your feelings more deeply,” she says.

“I seem to be feeling them too deeply already.”

“I disagree. I think you’re burying them. You’re avoiding your true feelings.”

I open my mouth to argue the point, but I shut it again quickly because I realize my objection would have been an automatic one with no real thought or consideration behind it. And some tiny little voice inside me says she’s right. She seems to sense my capitulation and repeats her question.

“How would you feel if Hurley married someone else?”

“Devastated,” I admit, tears welling in my eyes. “I would feel devastated.”

“Then why don’t you just accept his proposal? You love him, don’t you?”

“I do. More than anything.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It’s complicated,” I say, exasperated.

“You won’t marry him because he hasn’t said he loves you?”

“In part, yes.”

“What’s the other part of this equation?”

“Some other things have developed.”

“And they are?”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to discuss that yet.”

Maggie cocks her head and looks at me, eyebrows raised. I know she is hoping the silence and her expectations will wear me down, but I’m determined to do this my way.

“Okay,” she says after half a minute of silence.

“Let’s move on, and we’ll come back to this later. Tell me how things progressed once Hurley came back. What happened with your work relationship?”

“It got very interesting.”

“How so?”

“Well, for one, the Ames case drove us crazy for a while. Richmond and Hurley hit a few bumps trying to figure out how to work together, and when they threw the new videographer into the mix, it only complicated things. Plus we had all these state troopers traipsing in and out of the PD, fighting for desk space, computer access, file storage, and such. The same thing was going on in my office, where new faces were popping up all the time, and those of us who worked there started to feel like we no longer belonged. Arnie became apoplectic trying to get the Ames case evidence processed after the Madison techs that Henderson brought in took over his lab space, so he finally just gave it all to the new guys and let them process both cases. I found people sitting at my desk and using my computer every time I went into the office. Things between me and Henderson remained uncomfortably awkward, and whenever we had to do an autopsy, I begged Arnie to assist since he was at loose ends anyway. I kept myself busy by switching my work hours so that I spent time in the office in the evenings when I had better luck finding my desk available.”

“And then there was that guy I killed, Roscoe Schneider. I assumed that once the state guys cleared me that would be the end of it.”

“But it wasn’t?”

“Not even close. It turned out that Richmond was wrong when he said it didn’t look like Schneider was working with someone. The state troopers found a handwritten note in Schneider’s car that had my home address, my work address, and my work phone number on it.”

“So this Schneider guy wrote down your address and phone number. How does that imply another person was involved?”

“Because they also found a roll of hundreds inside a bag that was in the car. There was a note wrapped around the bills that said the balance would be paid when the job was done. The handwriting on that note matched the handwriting on the other one. They also found a newspaper clipping from a few months back that showed a picture of me. So it seems there
is
someone out there who wants me dead, and I still have no idea who it is or why. My nerves are as frayed as Rubbish’s scratch board.”

“That has to be scary.”

“It is. Hurley has people on the force guarding me whenever he can’t be with me. At first he was paying them out of his own pocket, but I finally convinced him that we should share the cost.”

“You mean you have guards?”

“I have someone watching my every move.”

“Even now?”

“Yes, even now. There is a cop outside your office as we speak, waiting to escort me back home.”

“You sound like you don’t think it’s necessary.”

“I’m not sure it is, and to be honest, if it was just me I had to worry about, I would have ditched the guards months ago. But now I have this one to worry about, too.” I rub a hand over my bulging tummy, and the kid gives me a kick. I’m not sure if it’s a protest, a gesture of understanding, or simply an attempt to change positions.

“You’re not still living at the motel, are you?”

“No, thank goodness. I’m back in my cottage. Only these days it feels more like a prison. I have to tell someone anytime I want to go out, and I haven’t been allowed to visit any of my family because Hurley doesn’t think their houses are secure enough.”

“Have they visited you?”

“No. I told them not to. It’s too risky. My mother hardly ever ventures outside anyway, and Desi’s always busy with the kids.”

“No wonder you’re feeling stressed.”

“And you don’t know the half of it yet,” I say.

“So tell me.”

I glance at my watch. “Are you sure you have the time?”

“I told you I have all day. I want to hear the rest of it.”

“Okay, but I have to pee first. And I’ll have an escort for that, too. Fortunately, the cop with me today is a woman.”

“There’s a bathroom right across the hall,” Maggie says. “I’ll wait until you come back.”

I hoist myself out of the chair, a Herculean task these days, and say, “Sure, flaunt your vast bladder capacity at me. See if I care.” I lumber out of the room and find Brenda Joiner sitting in the waiting room.

“I was starting to get worried,” she says, tossing aside the magazine she is reading. “You’ve been in there so long. If it wasn’t for the fact that I could hear your voice through the door, I might have felt compelled to break in there just to make sure you were all right.”

“I’m sorry, Brenda. I know it’s been a while, and it’s going to be even longer still, I’m afraid. I’m just taking a bathroom break.” I lumber out into the hallway and to the bathroom. Brenda is right on my heels.

“If you want, you can leave, and I’ll call you when I’m done,” I say as I lock myself into a stall so narrow I can barely turn around in it.

“No way, José,” Brenda says. “Hurley’s instructions are to stay with you at all times. And I’m fine. I don’t have anywhere I need to be.”

“Don’t you think this whole thing has gotten out of hand?” I ask her as I finish peeing. “It’s been more than four months of this. If someone really wanted to kill me, don’t you think they would’ve done it by now?”

“You’re still getting those phone calls, and they’re coming from a series of burner phones that change with every other call. So clearly someone has you on their radar.”

I flush and emerge from the stall to wash my hands. As I dry them, I say, “I think maybe these latest phone calls have to be coming from my father.”

“We know that the original calls weren’t from him, so that doesn’t make sense. Even if it was him, why is he being so sneaky about it? Why all the different phones? Why doesn’t he just talk to you?”

“I don’t know.” This isn’t altogether true. If the latest round of calls are indeed coming from my father, he has a very good reason for being so surreptitious. But no one knows the reason at the moment except for me, Richmond, a couple of state troopers, and a handful of federal agents. And I intend to keep it that way.

I try once again to convince Brenda to leave, but she refuses. As soon as we head back to Maggie’s office, she settles in with her magazine again and says, “I’m assigned to you all day long, so take as much time as you need.”

Maggie is still seated where she was when I left, and since I left the door to her office open, she has seen and heard the part of the exchange with Brenda that took place in her waiting room.

“I see what you mean,” she says, once I close the office door.

I waddle back to my seat and drop into it. “I have no privacy anymore,” I tell her. “Although there is an upside. It has gotten me out of going to the gym because no one thinks it’s safe enough. But it’s like this twenty-four hours a day. That makes it kind of hard to work on a relationship, particularly when there’s a beautiful woman in the picture who doesn’t wear clothes that look like tents, doesn’t have boobs that leak at odd times,
does
strut around in fashionable do-me shoes, and does seem to have lots of free time to spend with whomever she wants.”

“I take it that the whomever you are referring to is Hurley.”

“How did you guess?”

“Let’s just say it doesn’t require a psychiatric degree to figure that one out. Does this videographer have a name?”

“Yeah, Charlotte the harlot.”

Maggie bites back another smile.

“It’s Charlotte Finnegan. She told us all to call her Charlie, because she’s”—I pause and make air quotes with my fingers—“just one of the guys. Hmph!
That’s
not fooling anyone.”

“How do you and this Charlotte get along? I assume you’ve had to work with her for the past few months.”

“On the surface we get along fine. Of course, many of our interactions are on film, so we both tend to be a bit restrained and on our best behaviors during those times.”

“And the other times?”

“She’s made it pretty clear that she’s interested in Hurley.”

“Are you sure about that? Is there a chance that you might be reading meanings into things that aren’t there?”

“Let me tell you how our first few days together went, and then you tell me if you think I’m imagining things. If that doesn’t convince you, I have plenty more.”

Maggie shifted in her chair and put her legs up on a stool, getting herself comfortable. “Okay then,” she said, pen poised. “Let’s hear it.”