Tahoe Blues (15 page)

Cara’s eyes shot angry arrows
at her target and hit a bull’s-eye. “A couple of days too late for that, don’t you think?” she barked back.

Tanner knew he had blown it. The moment that officer showed up on the dock
, he should have made sure Cara’s home was secure. He shook his head and knew he should have acted long before that, and not just for Cara. He should have never allowed Lisa access to anyone’s apartment until he was positive beyond all doubt that his new employee could be trusted. He hadn’t even run a background check on her. He listened to her sad story and was sucked in. Seeing Cara sitting next to him in the adjoining jail cell, he had to wonder how good an actress Lisa was.

Tanner was momentarily saved from having to eat crow for his
lack of foresight when they heard Martin Langley’s voice talking to a police officer as they walked down the echoing corridor. Martin asked for a few minutes alone with his clients and one set of footsteps retracted.

A moment late
r, Martin was standing in front of them. “I have good news and bad news. Which would you like to hear first?”

Cara and Tanner spoke in unison,
“Good.”

Martin pointed at Tanner. “Duncan has dropped his complaint against you
, and you will be released shortly.” He dropped his chin and shifted his gaze towards Cara. “Unfortunately, I won’t be able to get a bond hearing for you until tomorrow. I think they prolonged the search of your premises just long enough to be able to keep you overnight. If they bring you out for questioning, the only thing you are allowed to say is, ‘I want my attorney present.’ They will have to call me. I have already been extremely vocal on this point, so with any luck they won’t bother you.” He took a breath and added sympathetically, “Try not to worry. I’ve brought in the best investigator I know. His name is David Crandall, and we will be working very closely on this. In time, I’m sure you will be exonerated of all charges and the truth will be revealed.”

Cara stood up and approached Martin. “Can he meet with me tonight? I want this wrapped up as quickly as possible.”

Martin shook his head. “Sorry, you will only be talking to me. I will record our conversations for him to listen to. I don’t want any misinterpretations of anything.”

“I don’t understand. Why doesn’t Mr. Crandall simply talk to me himself?”

Martin rubbed his forehead and Tanner instantly had a bad feeling in his gut. Martin had a spotless reputation, but he was keeping something about this new investigator to himself. Tanner made a mental note of the investigator’s name and decided that when he ran a background check on Lisa, that David Crandall’s name would be added to the list.

“He and his children have just recently moved to the area. His wife is still in San Diego wrapping up the sale of their home. I put him to work before he was ready
, so he placed a few stipulations on our agreement. One of them was that I conduct the interviews so he can review them while at home with his kids.”

Cara
’s face was worried. “If he doesn’t have the time, I think we should get someone else.” She took hold of the bars and tried to shake them. “I want someone who will devote one-hundred percent to getting me the hell out of this mess.”

Martin wrapped his hand over hers. “He’s the best man for the job.
He is extremely motivated, but if it makes you feel better, I will have someone ready to jump in if David finds he can’t handle both the job and the kids. I promise the back-up guy will be kept well informed,” Martin paused when a light bulb went off in his head. “As a matter of fact, I’ll see if they would be willing to work together.” A small smile crossed his face and his chest puffed out slightly. “I think that might be the best idea I’ve had all week.” He stepped back and pointed at Tanner. “I’ll wait for you out front and give you a ride home. In the meantime, I’ll get my other guy onboard.” He turned and pulled out his cell phone.

Martin was already making progress by the time
he hit the outside corridor.

Tanner got up and walked closer to Cara. “Martin has everything well in hand.”

Cara stared at the empty hallway. “Yeah, and the first person I want them to check out is Barbie, Bitch-ass, Blue-bug.”

Tanner knew Cara was probably going to flip, but he couldn’t resist. “You mean
Lisa Hill?”

Two days later Cara was back in her
apartment wearing a new piece of jewelry. The judge had not required her to post bond, but because of her supposed wealth and her alleged ability to flee the country, he decided to place her under house arrest. With an ankle bracelet firmly attached to her leg and the inability to range further than two miles from her residence, the summer session out on the lake with LOLA and her students had been brought to an abrupt halt. The University had no choice but to place her on unpaid administrative leave, and Cara could see everything she worked so hard for begin to crumble down around her.

What
surprised her even more was that Leah left numerous messages of apology on her voicemail while Brett had remained unusually quiet. Cara wasn’t ready to face another conversation with Leah. She had said some pretty harsh things. Cara knew she probably deserved most of them, but Leah had to know that her slights had been unintentional. When Cara thought about how Leah might feel when the new back-up/partner detective, aptly named Hunter Henderson, came to interview her about the possibility of her planting evidence, Cara kissed any possibility of a reconciliation goodbye. Eventually, she would call Leah and hopefully work everything out, but not now. She needed time to adjust to her new reality. She hadn’t even talked to Mrs. G. Cara’s loveable, nosy neighbor had left a basket of goodies on her doorstep, but had kindly not pushed herself upon her.

Cara hated the thought that Mrs. G. might
somehow be involved in the set-up. When Hunter visited her last night in her jail cell, she had given him the names of everyone she could think of with known access inside her home. Cara had almost left the elderly woman off the list, but something nagged at her to tell all. Maybe she had been watching too many cop shows, but the guilty person always seemed to be the one person you least suspected. Mrs. G. fit that profile perfectly. Knowing how hectic her summer was supposed to be, Cara had given Mrs. G. a key and asked her to keep an eye on the place while she was gone. The woman had total access, as did Tanner, and that husband-fucking bitch he called an assistant.

Unable to sleep while she was locked up
, a million theories about how she ended up in this mess flooded her brain. One had been that the evidence had been planted before she even moved in, and Duncan coerced Beth Rainy into moving and had arranged for Cara to sublet the apartment so he could frame his wayward wife while he absconded with the gala funds. The odds of that were slim, and Cara pitched that conspiracy away along with the one where Duncan’s sister, Drew, unbeknownst to Cara, actually got creative with the gala’s record keeping before Cara handed in her keys.

Cara was rela
tively certain the theft occurred under her ex-sister-in-law’s watch when the books were closed out late gala night. Even though Cara hadn’t monitored everything as closely as she had in the past years, she hadn’t completely ignored the accounting and nothing had appeared out of place while she was in charge.

With a million and one thoughts
still swirling around her head, Cara walked into the kitchen and poured herself another cup of coffee. She was a mess. Her hair was twisted haphazardly up in a loose bun with stray tendrils falling every which way. Her baggy t-shirt and boxers were semi-covered up by the rattiest robe she owned. The robe’s tie had long since disappeared, but wearing it felt like home, and right now she needed a bit of down home comfort.

Cara wanted to call her mom and dad, but she didn’t have a clue how they would take this kind of news. Her mot
her had been ill and Cara didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her delicate recovery. Throughout her entire life Cara’s dad had been a godsend when her car broke down, or when a pipe broke and needed repaired, but he would be worse than useless dealing with legal issues. The urge to run back into their loving embrace was strong, but Cara held off. She couldn’t go anywhere, and the moment they heard of her predicament, they would insist on coming to Tahoe, and Cara was not equipped to put up with them for the duration.

Cara rummaged through her cupboards. If she couldn’t go home
, she could bring a little bit of home to her. She needed a fix of her grandmother’s minestrone soup. She really wanted some homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies or some fudge, but she didn’t have the right ingredients.

As Mrs. Dun
can Alexander, Cara hadn’t been allowed to cook. The few times she tried to invade the kitchen at the compound, the amicable cook turned irritable and kicked her out.

Out of desperation Cara looked in the basket Mrs. G.
had left on her porch, but the baked goods contents fell short. She wanted the aroma of a simmering pot of soup, or the slow roast of a free-range turkey permeating every inch of her apartment. Her mouth salivated at the thought of pumpkin pie with whipped cream, sweet potatoes glazed with brown sugar, and a green bean casserole.

Thanksgiving! She
needed a Thanksgiving dinner. Cara went to her refrigerator and opened the freezer. She had a bag of frozen green beans, a package of sweet potato fries, and a small marinated turkey breast. No pumpkin pie in sight, but this was a good start.

She turned her oven on to preheat. Then Cara cut open the packaging of the turkey breast and placed it in the middle of the pan. The thing looked puny in there all by itself, so Cara dumped the green beans and fries in all around it. Her concoction didn’t look all that appetizing
, so she went back to the cupboards and gave them another look. She found a can of small whole potatoes and a jar of turkey gravy. She drained the potatoes and added it to the mix. The gravy was poured over the hodgepodge one-dish meal and as soon as it was covered in foil, Cara placed the pan in the oven and hoped for the best.

Twenty minutes later Cara had the smell she was looking for and was able to relax. She curled up on the couch
, and with a pillow clutched to her breast, she was finally able to fall asleep.

The sound of a buzzer pulled Cara out of her slumber. She blinked several times trying to get her bearings. The buzzer was relentless. It took a few seconds to figure out her dinner was ready. She dragged herself off the couch and wobbled her way to the oven. Through her sleepy haze, she managed to turn off the alarm and pull out the roasting pan. Cara left the meal on top of the stove and crashed back onto the couch.

Waking
naturally several hours later, Cara felt refreshed and ready for the day. It was ten o’clock at night. Her stomach rumbled, and she realized she hadn’t had a thing to eat. The scent of her makeshift holiday meal still wafted in around her and once again, Cara headed for the kitchen. She wasn’t sure how long the food had been sitting out and was a bit leery about whether she should eat it.

When she
plucked the foil off the pan, she burned her fingers. Cara grinned from ear to ear at what she saw. The turkey and vegetables looked delicious, and it was still warm because she had failed to turn off the oven. The heat which radiated from it was enough to keep the meal piping hot on the stovetop and, for once, Cara was happy for the grossly out dated and inefficient appliances.

Against the advice of her attorney and his leg man, Hunter Henderson, who had both advised her to put some distance between herself and anyone who had
access to her home, she picked up her phone and called her landlord. “Hi, have you eaten dinner yet?”

“Cara, it’s really late. I ate hours ago.”

Undeterred, Cara asked again, “Would you like to keep me company while I eat?”

She heard Tanner chuckle. “I have a nice bottle of Chardonnay chilling in the fridge. Would
you like me to bring it over?”

“Is it from the Napa Valley?” she teased.

Tanner laughed. “I don’t know.”

“Well....
bring it anyway. I’ll risk it.”

“I’m on my way.”

A minute and a half later Tanner knocked on her door.

Cara greeted him with two wine glasses in her hand. “Come on in.” She scooped the poultry and veggie aroma up in her hand and waved it under his nose. “Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

Her small dining room table had been set for two and a dish of delectable goodness had been placed in the center. “You cooked?” Tanner stretched his neck to look over Cara’s shoulder to get a better look at what was on the platter.

Dressed in nothing but a pair of jeans and a tight fitting t-shirt the man looked good. He was barefoot
and a hint of shampoo smell emanated from his still damp hair. Cara figured he had been out working in the complex during the day and had just recently showered. She nodded her head proudly. “It even tastes good.” She hooked her arm with his, and guided him towards the table.

He took the wine glasses out of her hand as she took the bottle out of his. “Ah,” she sighed. “It’s from one of my favorite wineries.”