Deadly Intent (20 page)

“Not really.” He reached for another cookie, but only twirled it in his hands. “You don’t want me to meet her.”

Abbie bit her lip. This wasn’t turning out the way she had expected. It was true she had no intention of bringing Liz into their lives. Why should she? The woman had never made any attempt to find her, and her attitude toward Abbie during the two years they had spent together under the same roof had been downright unpleasant. But was she being fair keeping Ben from her?

“I don’t know where she lives, but I’m sure I could find out.” She dreaded it already but would do it, for Ben. And hope he didn’t end up disappointed.

He seemed satisfied with that answer. “Does Grandma know Uncle Ian is dead?”

So, it was Uncle Ian now. “Not yet. I’m planning on telling her today.” Before he could ask another question,

she reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. “Ben, the reason I told you all this is because the story of Ian’s death will probably be in the papers, maybe even on TV. If you read or see or hear anything you don’t understand, I want you to come to me. Will you do that?”

He nodded again, but obviously, his curiosity hadn’t been fully satisfied. “Is there going to be a funeral, like when Joey Barfield’s uncle died?”

Why hadn’t she anticipated this third degree? How could she have imagined that he would take the news placidly and then go about his day the way he always did? “I don’t know, Ben. Ian was here with his girlfriend, so she’ll probably make the arrangements and bury him in Ohio where they live.”

“When will you know?”

“Know what?”

“Where the funeral will be.”

She had never expected a conversation with her nine-year-old son would be this stressful. “I suppose I could talk to Ian’s girlfriend and see what she has planned.”

In fact, a visit to Rose Panini was first on her agenda, not because she was anxious to know the details of her stepbrother’s funeral, but because she needed to find out how much Ms. Panini knew, and whether or not she should worry about her.

And there was the letter. Somehow, she had to find it.

“Why don’t you get started with your homework. Tiffany will be here any minute.” Not quite ready to field any more questions from her inquisitive son, she stood, half expecting Ben to ask if he could attend the funeral. To her relief, he didn’t.

Twenty-One

The Clearwater Motel was a one-story building with light green siding and a small patch of grass in front of the canopied entrance. It was a ten-minute ride from the restaurant and an easy walk from Lake Carnegie where the murder had occurred.

Aware that Ben had been doing his homework and watching her at the same time, Abbie had called Rose Panini, introduced herself over the phone and asked if she could stop by. Far from being reluctant, the woman had told her she wanted very much to meet her, and had sounded as though she meant it.

“I don’t have to be at work until five,” she had added. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk.”

That last part, about not having to go to work until five, worried Abbie. Why had Rose bothered to find a job when Ian had planned to leave Princeton as soon as he had the money? Maybe she knew about the blackmailing scheme. Maybe she was just as greedy and ruthless as Ian, and intended to pick up where he had left off.

Abbie tried not to speculate or worry unnecessarily. There were a number of reasons Rose Panini might want to stay in Princeton. She could have friends here, or relatives. Or maybe she had fallen in love with the area. Many visitors who came here for the first time developed an in

stant liking for the university town, finding it both cultured and hip.

The woman who opened the door of the motel room was not what Abbie had expected. It was obvious she had been crying, and when she saw Abbie, fresh tears started rolling down her cheeks again.

“I’m sorry if this isn’t a good time,” Abbie said, feeling bad for intruding.

Rose shook her head, then, unexpectedly, threw her arms around Abbie, enveloping her in a cloud of Obsession. Quiet sobs shook the woman’s shoulders for about half a minute, during which Abbie felt totally helpless.

At last, Rose pulled away to let her in. “Don’t mind me. I just came back from the morgue.” She took a tissue from the box on the dresser and blew her nose, sounding like a foghorn. “Seeing Ian lying on that cold slab hit me hard. If I didn’t believe he was dead before that, I certainly believe it now.” She pressed the balled-up tissue against one eye then the other.

Abbie was a little thrown off by this show of grief. It was inconceivable to her that someone as despicable as Ian could have inspired love. Either he had cleverly concealed his true nature from his girlfriend, or she was a very tolerant woman.

“I’m sorry, Miss Panini.” Oddly, she meant it.

“Call me Rose, okay?” Rose sniffed. “I’m glad you called. I wanted to meet you, but didn’t know how to go about it.” She sat on the edge of the bed, her tight black skirt riding up to reveal chunky thighs. A white blouse and black, open-toed sandals completed the outfit. Abbie guessed Rose was waitressing.

“I didn’t know Ian had a girlfriend until Detective Ryan told me.” She sat on the chair by the window and cast a quick glance around, wondering if her mother’s letter was

anywhere in this room, or if Ian had taken it with him to the lake. What if the police had found it on his body? Either way, getting her hands on it would not be an easy task.

“Is there anyone you can call?” she asked, turning her attention back to Rose. “A friend? A family member?”

Rose shook her head. “I just have a cousin in Toledo, and my friends have enough problems of their own without having to worry about mine.” She shrugged. “I’m kind of a loner anyway.”

Abbie was glad to hear that. A loner didn’t have anyone to talk to. “You said something about having to go to work. Does that mean you’re planning to stay in Princeton?”

Another shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. I like the people at the Golden Diner where I work. Kat, one of the waitresses there, said I could move in with her and split the expenses. It’ll be a little cramped, but anything’s better than this room, where all I do is think of Ian.” She gave her nose a few more swipes with the tissue before tossing it in the wastebasket. “I feel so damn guilty.”

“What happened isn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it is. I shouldn’t have given Ian the money for the trip.”

“Why did you?” Now that it was out, the question seemed a little too forward, but Rose didn’t seem to mind.

“I could never say no to him. And he painted such a nice picture of the two of us starting over, having our own business. I let it go to my head. I should have known better. I should have remembered all the ventures Ian started that went sour.”

Abbie found herself liking the woman. “Where did you and Ian meet?”

“Vegas. I was a showgirl.” She may have seen the surprise in Abbie’s eyes, because she added, “I was twenty

years younger then, a size six and had legs that wouldn’t quit. Ian was quite a looker, too. And boy, did he know how to charm a girl.”

That, too, was hard to believe. “What was he doing in Las Vegas?”

“He knew people there—dangerous people. A year after I moved in with him, we had to skip town in a hurry. Seems like someone was always after Ian.”

“Like Arturo Garcia?”

Rose looked surprised. “Ian told you about him?”

“Detective Ryan did. He wanted to know if I had heard of him.”

“I hope the police find him.” She shivered. “I wouldn’t want him to show up here.”

“Why would he?”

“Detective Ryan didn’t tell you?”

“I know Ian turned in state’s evidence against Arturo, but how would that concern you?”

‘ ‘That’s not all Ian did. He also ran off with thirty thousand he had just collected on Arturo’s behalf. The man’s going to want his money back, and if he thinks I have it, which I don’t, he could come after me.”

“After all this time?”

“Men like Arturo Garcia don’t like unsettled scores. It’s bad for their reputation, if you know what I mean.”

Abbie remembered the fierce look on her attacker’s face and knew exactly what Rose meant.

“He sounds dangerous,” she said, fishing for information.

“Oh, he is that. That’s why Ian was so scared of him.” She blew her nose again. “Did Detective Ryan tell you Arturo may have been here the afternoon of the murder? In this room.”

“No.””He won’t know for sure until he gets fingerprint results from the lab, but I don’t need a crime scene expert to tell me that brute was here. I know he was.” She gave a sideways glance. “It’s all in there.”

Abbie followed her gaze and saw large, colorful cards laid out on the table by the window, some in pairs, some in a cross pattern. She smiled. “You read tarot.”

“I’ve been reading tarot cards since I was a teenager. My folks and I lived next door to a psychic and I used to spend more time at her house than at mine. She taught me how to read the cards and how to interpret them.”

“Are you pretty good at it?”

“Never made a wrong prediction yet.” Her voice dropped. “Ian used to say it was a lot of bullshit, but he was wrong. Everything I ever saw in the cards came true.” She looked at Abbie. “You’re in there, too.”

Abbie didn’t believe in psychics or anyone with special powers, but felt compelled to ask, “What did you see?”

“Troubles, worries, danger. Someone wants something from you.” She walked over to the table and tapped a card picturing a man standing behind a woman and putting a necklace around her neck. “I can’t tell what because cards can be interpreted many different ways, but I see money. A repayment for a debt.” She looked back at Abbie. “Maybe that’s the money you were going to loan Ian?”

Loan. She had said loan, so it was possible that she didn’t know about the blackmail. “He told you about that?”

“Yes. At first, I didn’t want to believe him. Why should a stepsister he hadn’t seen in twenty-eight years hand over twenty thousand dollars?”

So that was the amount he had told her. It made sense. A hundred thousand would have alerted Rose—who was far from stupid—that he had more in mind than a loan.

“Actually, you were right in your assumption,” Abbie said. “I had no intention of loaning Ian any money. I couldn’t have, even if I had wanted to. All my assets are tied up in the restaurant and my house.”

“But he told me...” Rose studied Abbie for a few seconds, as if she was trying to decide who had deceived her—Abbie or Ian. “You really turned him down?”

Abbie nodded.

“Why didn’t he tell me that? Why did he let me believe you had agreed to help him out?”

“I don’t know.” And for some inexplicable reason, Abbie felt terrible about lying to this woman. Maybe it was best if she steered the conversation in another direction. “Will you be taking Ian’s body back to Toledo?”

Rose looked down at her hands. “No. I’m going to bury him here, in Princeton. I don’t have the money to ship his body back, and I can’t ask Liz to foot the extra expense. She’s already paying for the funeral.”

That was a surprise. “You’ve been in touch with Liz?”

Rose stood up, walked over to the table and started gathering the cards. “I called her as soon as I found out about Ian. She tends bar at the Manhattan Towers in New York City.”

“I see.” A thought suddenly struck Abbie. “Did Ian talk to her while he was here?”

To her dismay, Rose nodded. “He took the bus to New York earlier this week. It was my first day on the job and he was here alone, so he decided to touch base with his sister.”

“How did that visit go?”

“Fine, I guess, for a sister and brother who saw each other once in a blue moon. He didn’t say much about it.”

“How did she react when you told her about Ian’s death?”

“She didn’t seem too worked up about it, or maybe she didn’t want to show her feelings over the phone. Ian told me she was kind of a cold fish.” She turned a card, studied it for a moment. “But she surprised me by offering to pay for the burial, just when I was wondering where I’d find the money. She’ll be here in a couple of days.”

She flipped another card. “Did you know she was married to a rock star once?”