SUICIDAL SUSPICIONS: A Kate Huntington Mystery (The Kate Huntington Mystery Series Book 8) (12 page)

The manager waved a hand in front of his face. “Guess the place could stand to be aired out a bit more.” He walked over to the sliding glass door that led to a balcony and opened it wide.

A cool breeze made the air more bearable. Breathing through her mouth, Kate slowly walked around the room. She avoided the smudges and random stains in the middle of the cream-colored carpet.

The man pointed to more dark stains in one corner that was empty of furniture.

“That’s where the dog crate was. The police took it away.”

Kate tilted her head and contemplated that. Why would they take the dog crate? “What else did they take?”

He gave her a funny look.

She realized too late that she’d blown her cover as an associate of the police. But she opted not to try to explain. “Was there anything else missing?” she asked instead.

The man shook his head. “Nope, her purse was on the desk, next to some book. They took both of those away. And there was some expensive jewelry in the bedroom. Mrs. Hartin’s assistant came and got it last week.”

“So they’ve had a cleaning crew in. Have they said anything about putting it on the market yet?”

He shook his head again. “Ain’t been no cleaning crew. This is the way it was when we found her.”

Kate stopped in her tracks. She scanned the neat room. No, more than neat. With the exception of the stains on the carpet, the place was spotless.

That was out of character. Josie was not a good housekeeper. It was one of the many things she and her mother argued about. Her mother kept trying to send their cleaning staff over to straighten the place up. Josie always refused. Kate suspected she was messy out of defiance.

So what did it mean that Josie had cleaned the place before killing herself? Some kind of putting-life-in-order ritual?

But that didn’t fit with leaving the dog in the crate. If she’d killed herself on impulse, that was one thing. But if she’d taken the time to clean, she would have taken the time to think through the consequences to the dog as well.

“Sir,” she was blanking on the guy’s name, “I think we need to dust for prints, to be on the safe side here. I’ll have a man come by tomorrow morning. His name is Manuel Ortiz.”

The manager shrugged. “I’ll be in the office by nine.”

“Thank you. Sorry for disrupting your evening.”

Kate followed the manager out of the building. He sketched her a small salute and headed down the sidewalk. As Kate walked toward her car, she felt a chill on her neck. But the early evening air wasn’t all that cold.

When she reached the driver’s side door, the creepy chill came again. Was someone watching her? She turned and scanned the parking lot. No one was in sight. A slight breeze rustled through the small trees surrounding the lot, casting wavering shadows.

She shook her head.

Get a grip, Kate!

~~~~~~~~

Skip’s hair had fallen over his forehead as he ate. He left it there, using it as a veil to watch his wife.

Kate had made it home just in time for dinner. She picked at her food, a vacant look on her face.

“Mommy,” Billy yelled, “you’re not listening!”

“Oh, uh, that’s nice.”

Skip narrowed his eyes at her. In a low voice, he said, “He was telling you about being picked on by the older kids.”

Her face turned pink.

Skip’s annoyance melted at her chagrined expression. “Son, you need to settle down. Mommy’s a little preoccupied with work stuff right now.”

Billy pursed his lips and glared at him. The boy had a temper to match his mother’s.

“It’s hard being an adult sometimes,” Skip said. “We can’t always be everything we want to be for everybody.” The message was aimed at Kate as much as Billy.

She flashed him a grateful half-smile.

Billy crossed his arms and pouted.

As they finished eating, Maria tilted an eyebrow at Skip. He hid a grin. The Hernandez cousins had very expressive eyebrows.

“
Niños
, you help me with dishes.”

Clearing the table and loading the dishwasher were usually tasks that Skip and Kate did together, but the kids knew better than to protest when Maria used that tone.

It bought Skip and Kate a few minutes on the sofa before they had to start the bedtime routine. He settled down beside his wife and threw an arm around her shoulders. She was staring off into space.

“What’s the matter, darlin’?”

“Nothing. I’m okay.”

Skip stifled a sigh. She was
not
okay. “Want to talk about your client’s case?”

She shrugged. “I tried again to get Judith to reopen the investigation. No dice.” She turned slightly toward him. “Can I borrow Manny tomorrow morning?”

“Sure. He’s available to help whenever you need him.”

She gave him a small smile. “Thanks.”

He’d figured she would be more receptive to Manny’s help than anyone else’s. She and Manny had developed some kind of bond from previous times he’d been her bodyguard. Skip didn’t completely understand it, but his gut said it wasn’t anything he needed to worry about.

“What do you need him for?”

“To check for fingerprints in Josie’s condo. I stopped by there on my way home. The place was spotless, but the manager said no cleaning crew had been in.”

She fell silent for a few moments.

“So?” Skip asked.

“Josie was a slob.”

“So maybe somebody cleaned up to get rid of forensic evidence.”

“Yeah,” she said.

The kids bounced into the living room. Skip gave up on the pulling-teeth process of getting Kate to talk. He pushed up from the sofa and herded the children up to their rooms.

After homework had been checked, baths supervised and stories read, he descended the stairs. Kate wasn’t in their usual spot on the sofa.

He found her in the bedroom, already getting ready for bed. Silently, he followed suit. Once in bed, he wrapped his arms around her and gathered her against his side, but he hesitated to go further.

She sighed.

He slid a hand down her side to her hip. She didn’t move or make a sound. He slid it back up and cupped her breast.

No moan or curling closer to encourage him.

A lump formed in his throat. He swallowed, but it refused to go away. She had been doing better. Now she seemed obsessed with proving her client hadn’t committed suicide.

He moved his hand again to her side and pulled her closer still. Inspiration struck. “You’ve convinced me. The woman didn’t kill herself.” He truly believed that. There were too many inconsistencies.

She pulled back a little in his arms and looked up at him. “Really?”

“Really. Let us help you prove it.”

She gave him a small smile. “Thanks for lending me Manny. But a lot of this stuff, it might not make sense to anyone who didn’t know her. Like about the clean condo, for instance.”

She snuggled back down, spooning against him.

He rubbed her back and felt her body relaxing, moving toward sleep. His groin ached but he would be happy with her sleeping well. “I love you,” he whispered.

She abruptly flipped over and clung to him, her face turned up toward his. “I love you.” Her voice was low and fierce.

She stroked his chest. His skin quivered beneath her fingertips.

He stared into her eyes, shiny with unshed tears. Did she want him to make love to her after all? He kissed her lips gently.

She deepened the kiss.

He sought her breast and closed his mouth over it. Her back arched and she moaned out his name. His mouth curled into a smile against her skin.

He sucked a bit harder for a moment, while his hand explored elsewhere. She was starting to writhe and moan. He rolled over on top of her, bracing himself on his elbows so as not to crush her with his weight.

Her eyes were the indigo blue of arousal. “Thank you for putting up with me,” she whispered.

He grinned down at her. “My pleasure.”

~~~~~~~~

Kate found herself smiling as she drove to work the next day. The sun shone through her windshield and her favorite CD was playing.

Life was good.

Her throat closed. How could she be happy when Josie was dead?

She shook her head. This was no different than any other sad dilemma a client presented in her office. She worked to put up the barriers of detachment that normally insulated her own life from her clients’ woes. Whoever had killed Josie, for whatever reason, that wasn’t part of her own life. It was Josie’s life, not hers.

Reality slammed past her defenses for a moment.
Not Josie’s life. Her death!

Kate pressed her lips together and gripped the steering wheel. Nothing was to be gained from feeling guilty about Josie’s death.

She forced herself to sing along with the song coming from the speakers in her car.

.

At lunchtime, Kate listened to Manny’s message. “Hey Kate, that place was wiped down clean as a whistle. Which smells funny in my book. Nobody gets every fingerprint when they’re just dusting.”

She picked up the receiver of her desk phone and punched in Judith’s office number, which she now had memorized.

“Anderson.”

“Hi, Lieutenant. I’ve got some things to report.” Kate told her about the out-of-character, spotless apartment and Manny’s inability to find any fingerprints at all.

“I agree with your guy,” Judith said. “It’s smelly. But still not anything concrete we can use to justify a homicide investigation. By the way, that doc swore he’d never heard of you or Josephine Hartin or any recent prescription for clonazepam.”

“What?” Kate screeched.

“Yeah, so I sent a detective by that pharmacy, and the prescription has mysteriously disappeared from their files. They have no clue what we’re talking about.”

“But I saw it! He–”

“Calm down, Kate. I believe you. They’re all covering their butts.”

Kate banged her fist on her desk. “Damn it! They’re so afraid they’ll get implicated in some lawsuit, they’d destroy evidence.”

“I think the old man is mostly covering for his wife. And protecting his own reputation. Not so sure about the pharmacist. I may go down there and talk to him myself.”

Kate held her breath, afraid to say something that would discourage Judith from doing so.

“Still can’t make it an official investigation,” Judith said into the silence. “But I’m inclined to shake this guy’s tree and see what falls out.”

“Would you let me know what you find out?”

A pause. “Probably.” Judith disconnected.

Kate glanced at the clock on her office wall, then dialed another number. She made an appointment with Josie’s veterinarian for seven that evening. Toby didn’t know it yet but he was getting his yearly check-up a few months early.

Her stomach grumbled, wanting to know where lunch was.

But she had one more call to make. She got Liz Franklin’s voicemail. “Hey Liz, since your husband’s in court tomorrow, I suddenly have a gaping hole in my schedule. Would you be interested in meeting for lunch? Give me a call.”

She winced a little, wondering if that sounded like Liz was just the pinch hitter, when Rob wasn’t available for their usual Wednesday lunch. Then she shrugged. Liz would probably understand.

In truth, she was glad Rob wasn’t available so she could get together with Liz instead. In many ways she and Rob were closer, the friendship having grown initially out of working together on the cases of mutual clients. But after all the harrowing things the three of them had been through together–before and since her remarriage to Skip–she and Liz were pretty tight as well.

And there were some things that women understood better than men. Like guilt.

CHAPTER TEN

Kate held back her tired sigh. Her last client of the day walked to the outer door of the waiting room and turned to give her a little wave as she left.

A small cough.

Kate jumped and jerked around toward the sound.

A woman rose from a chair in the corner of the waiting area. She smoothed down the skirt of her navy wool suit and cleared her throat.

Belatedly, Kate realized it was Nancy Hartin. Grief had aged her a decade in the last couple of weeks. Her face sagged and the frown lines at the corners of her mouth were etched more deeply. Her blonde hair–pulled back in a neat chignon–was dull, with gray roots showing around her face. Her clothes hung on her too-thin frame.

The woman cleared her throat again. “May I have a few minutes of your time, Mrs. Huntington?”

Kate resisted the urge to look at her watch. If she didn’t get home soon, she’d miss out on time with the kids before her appointment with Josie’s vet.

“Sure. Come in to my office.” She gestured toward the door.

Nancy Hartin settled into the chair across from her desk.

Kate sat down in her desk chair and waited.

Mrs. Hartin uncrossed and re-crossed her legs. “My lawyer will be furious if she finds out I’m here, but I had to come and ask you again to please let me… us, see Josephine’s file.”

“My lawyer won’t be too happy about this meeting either.” Kate paused, choosing her words carefully. “Mrs. Hartin, I can only begin to imagine your pain. But you need to believe me when I say that seeing Josie’s file will not help. There is nothing in there that gives any hint of why she died.” She avoided saying the word
suicide
, since she was no longer convinced that her client’s death was self-inflicted.

Mrs. Hartin gave her a stern look, but the grief shadowing her eyes diminished the effect.

Kate’s chest ached. She tried to put herself in this woman’s shoes, imagining if Edie had… Her mind rebelled against the thought. She leaned forward. “There is something that might help both of us to find some answers.”

The woman’s eyebrows went up but she remained silent.

“You have her journal. There may be something in there that would shed some light on what happened.”

Nancy Hartin straightened her spine. “I’ve read the journal, cover to cover, twice. There are no answers there. But there are indicators of your incompetence. Apparently my daughter was afraid to tell you certain things.”