Trust Me (35 page)

She couldn’t believe that she hadn’t seen it herself. The mood swings, the secretiveness, the marathon surgery sessions—she
had known for a long time that Richard’s behavior was not exactly normal, even for him, but she had never considered anything
like drugs. How could she not have known what was going on? The signs had all been right there, in front of her face, for
months.

She swallowed hard. “When did you last see him there?”

“I don’t know. About two weeks ago. Are you okay? You don’t look very good.”

“I don’t feel very good,” Carly said.

“You believe me?”

Carly nodded. “Yes. I do. Thank you for telling me the truth, Edie. I hope you’ll change your mind and stay, but it’s up to
you. I understand if you’d rather leave.”

Carly walked numbly back into the building, passing through the workrooms without making eye contact with anyone. She would
have to come up with a plan of action, she thought. And fast. Richard was due back in the office tomorrow morning, and he
had a full day of surgery scheduled. Obviously, she couldn’t stand aside and allow him to work. But how could she stop him?

The most obvious choice was to go to the police, but what would that mean to Richard? Cocaine possession was a felony, wasn’t
it? Carly didn’t know much about the drug laws, but even the thought that Richard might be sent to prison gave her pause for
thought. His use of cocaine did, technically, make him a criminal, but did he deserve such a draconian fate? He was also a
brilliant and talented surgeon, and someone who could—if he turned his life around—do twenty more years of useful work. Perhaps
if she confronted him and told him what she knew, she could convince him to take time off from the practice and check himself
into a rehabilitation program.

It wasn’t as if he could refuse. Even if he denied everything, he would never pass a drug test. She could probably force him
to get treatment by threatening to report him; but the idea of confronting him, even with the intention of helping him, sent
a shiver of apprehension through her.

And what about her own situation? She was no longer ignorant about what Richard was doing, and that put her in a very vulnerable
position. If she didn’t report him to the police and to the Veterinary Board, she could lose her license on ethical misconduct
charges.

She was wondering whom to call for advice when she saw Hector Gracie standing at the reception desk. It was as if he sensed
trouble in the air, she thought, hurrying forward to greet him.

“Dr. Martin,” said the detective when he saw her. “Day going well?”

“I’ve had better days,” Carly said. “Are you here to see me?” She wondered if he had spoken with Max recently, but she didn’t
ask.

Gracie nodded. “I need to clear up a couple of things with you. Do you have a few minutes?”

“Sure. Let’s go back to my office.” She started down the hall, but the detective didn’t budge.

“Actually, I thought we could go down to the station. If you don’t mind.”

Carly frowned. “I have three more appointments today. And wouldn’t it be easier to talk here?”

“It’s up to you, ma’am,” said the detective. “You aren’t required to come with me. But I thought that you might want to go
somewhere more private.”

“Oh.” Gracie sounded very serious, as if something important had happened. Maybe, she thought suddenly, this was the reason
why Max had never returned her call. If there had been an arrest, or some other major development in the case, maybe he hadn’t
been allowed to say anything until the police did what they needed to do.

“I understand,” she said quickly. “We should probably go right now, shouldn’t we?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

“No, no, of course not. This is important. I’ll just go and get my things.”

C
arly collected her coat and bag, apologized to her waiting client, and asked Michelle to reschedule her remaining two appointments.

Gracie drove her to the district station. She had passed by it many times but had never actually been inside. They walked
in through the back entrance, and Gracie ushered her into a small room that was empty except for a table in the middle, surrounded
by mismatched plastic chairs. On the far wall, Carly noted with fascination, was a mirror. She felt as if she were in a movie,
and wondered if anyone was looking at her from the other side of the glass.

“Have a seat,” Gracie said. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

Carly nodded. “Thank you.”

“Cream? Sugar?” In the harsh fluorescent light, the detective looked sallow and weather-beaten. Carly could see from her own
reflection in the mirror that the lighting did not flatter her, either.

She winced and instinctively reached up to smooth her hair. “Just milk, please.”

He seemed to be gone for a long time. Carly sat, waiting, listening to the hum of the lights, and the faint sounds of the
room from behind the closed door. She thought about Max and wondered if he had left a message for her. She had called to check
her answering machine at lunchtime, but there had been nothing.

Gracie finally came back, carrying two styrofoam cups. A manila folder was tucked under his arm, and he was accompanied by
a trim, pleasant-looking blond woman in a navy pantsuit. “This is Detective Roberts,” he said. “Okay if she joins us?” He
handed Carly one of the cups.

“Sure.” Carly nodded.

Detective Roberts smiled at her, set a tape recorder on the table, and sat down. “Call me Lori,” she said. “Do you mind if
we record this? It’s routine.”

“That’s fine,” Carly said. “I don’t mind.”

Gracie closed the door and joined them. Lori Roberts pushed the record button on the machine and looked at Gracie.

He sipped his coffee. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll get the basics out of the way. You know, Carly, that you are not in police custody,
and you are free to get up and leave at any time.”

“Yes, of course,” Carly said, puzzled. “I know.” It seemed strange to her that he kept saying that. Why wouldn’t she be free
to leave? He was probably just being considerate. No doubt most people were very intimidated by the police. She wasn’t, though.
She liked Gracie. He was polite, and he seemed trustworthy.

“Okay,” Gracie said. “I have a written statement, signed by you, Carly Martin, that describes your actions on the night that
Henry Tremayne was critically injured. Let’s go over it again. You arrived at the Tremayne house at approximately 5:30
P.M.
You were alone in the house with Mr. Tremayne. You gave medical care to several of his animals, then you and Mr. Tremayne
had a short conversation. You left the house just after 6
P.M.
and drove away in your van no later than six-fifteen. You went home, cooked dinner, read a book, then went to bed. You did
not see anyone after you returned home, and you did not make any phone calls that night.”

He looked up at her. She nodded.

“Is there anything in your statement that you want to change? Anything that could be made more accurate?”

“No, I don’t think so. That pretty much covers it.”

Gracie took another sip of his coffee, and Carly remembered her own cup. She tasted it and waited for Gracie to continue.

“Carly, let’s talk about your relationship with Henry Tremayne. He’s a nice guy, eh?”

“He’s wonderful,” Carly said. “I’ve known him for two years.”

“He left you a lot of money in his will. That was generous of him. Did you ever think that maybe he would change his mind?
Rewrite it?”

“I didn’t know about it in the first place,” Carly said. “They only told me when he went into the hospital.”

“You didn’t know?”

She shook her head. “No. I was shocked when Max told me.”

“According to Mr. Giordano, you told him that you and Mr. Tremayne had discussed the foundation.”

“Oh. Well, yes, we did talk about that, but…”

“You just told me that you didn’t know about it. If you talked about it with him, then you knew about it. Right?”

“Well…” Carly began, flustered. “Yes. But we only talked about the foundation as an idea. He never said anything about putting
me in charge of it, so I didn’t know about that. And he never mentioned the house.”

“Never?”

“I mean, he never mentioned the idea of giving it to me. He might have told me that he wanted to use the house for the foundation.”

Gracie nodded and didn’t speak for a few moments. He looked through the papers in front of him. Carly shifted uncomfortably
in her chair. She was starting to get an uneasy feeling, and she didn’t understand why Gracie had suddenly become so confrontational.
He hadn’t told her anything new about Henry, and he was asking her the same questions that she had already answered last week.

Gracie looked up. “How’s your business doing, Carly?”

It was an abrupt change, she thought, surprised. “The clinic? Fine.”

“You’ve been pretty busy there? Lots of clients?”

“Yes, very busy.”

“It’s good to own your own business. You have 30 percent of it, right?”

“Yes,” Carly said slowly. “That’s right. My partner owns the other 70 percent.” She hadn’t expected him to know the details
of her financial situation. Why had Gracie been investigating her? She suddenly wondered if this strange interview could have
anything to do with Richard and his drugs. But that made no sense. Why would Gracie care about Richard’s coke habit? It had
nothing to do with Henry.

“So everything is fine at work. You’re making money, you’re saving up for a nice vacation, a new car maybe… something like
that. Do you do the books yourself, Carly?”

“No. My partner does them.”

“You pay attention to how things are going, though.”

“Of course,” Carly said, slightly offended. Did he think that because she was female she ignored the finances? She had regularly
examined the books until Richard had computerized everything a few months ago, and as soon as she had a chance to learn how
to use the software, she would continue to do so. “We’re doing well.”

“Okay. Let’s talk about your car. You drive a white Chevrolet van?”

“Only for clinic business. I use it to do errands and to make house calls.”

“You take it home with you sometimes, though.”

“Sometimes. It depends where I am when I finish my house calls, and whether I need to stop back at the clinic or not before
I go home.”

“Did you take it home with you on the night of Mr. Tremayne’s accident?”

“I… don’t remember. Probably. I usually do on Wednesdays.”

“Are you certain that you left the Tremayne house no later than six-fifteen that night? Take as long as you need to think
about it.”

“I have thought about it,” Carly said. “Yes. I’m sure.”

Gracie’s face was expressionless as he looked at her. “Carly, I have two witnesses who saw you driving away from the Tremayne
house at 7
P.M.
that night. Can you explain that to me?”

Carly sat back in her chair. She stared at the detectives, looking back and forth from Gracie to Lori Roberts, so stunned
that she didn’t know what to say. “No,” she finally said. “I can’t. Who said that?”

“That doesn’t matter. It’s true, isn’t it? You left the house at seven. Why didn’t you tell me that before, Carly?”

Carly began to feel frantic. It was all becoming suddenly, terrifyingly, clear. Gracie’s request that she come to the station,
the other detective, the tape recorder, the unexpected interrogation. Gracie thought that she had been involved in Henry’s
accident. How could he believe that? Who would have lied about seeing her there? She couldn’t imagine who would do something
so malicious.

Tears came unexpectedly to her eyes. She had been on edge ever since the scene with Edie, and she wondered how all of this
could possibly be happening. “It’s not true,” she said. “I know that I left just a few minutes after six, because the television
was on, and the six o’clock news had just started. That’s when I said good-bye to Henry.”

Silently, Lori Roberts handed her a tissue. Carly took it, clenching it in her hand.

Gracie was shaking his head. “I don’t buy it, Carly. I think you had an argument with Henry Tremayne. You lost your temper,
pushed him. Forgot that he was just an old man, eh? And then you moved his body into the house to try to fool everyone into
thinking that he fell down the stairs.”

“No!” Carly exclaimed, horrified.

Gracie slammed his hands down on the table, and Carly jumped. “Do not lie to me, young lady,” he exclaimed, shaking a finger
at her. “You—”

“Hector,” Lori Roberts cut in, sharply. “Cool down, okay? You’re overreacting. I think you should go outside and take a break.”

Gracie shot Lori a baleful look from under his thick eyebrows, but he did not argue. He muttered something under his breath
and stood up. He narrowed his eyes. “Okay. I’m going. But I’ll be back.”

The door slammed behind him. Carly, trembling, turned to Lori Roberts. “I don’t understand what’s happening,” she said in
a small voice. “Do I need a lawyer?”

Lori reached out sympathetically and patted Carly’s hand. “Listen to me. You are not under arrest. Remember, you can leave
at any time, and I wouldn’t blame you if you did. Hector shouldn’t talk to you like that. It isn’t helpful. Do you want to
go? I’ll drive you back to your office right now.”