Murder at Castle Rock (10 page)

A wave of guilt crashed over me. I was the one who told Dixon about the fight.
This is my fault.

"I heard him say they were taking Laura to get her full statement today. If she tells them she was with Parker yesterday, it'll give them a motive to pin on Reese." Bronwyn wiped away another tear. "We can't let them arrest him, Ame. He didn't do it. I know it!"

I took a long pull from my strawberry margarita.
What a mess.
I needed to talk to Reese before the police came back with more questions. At least then I could get his side of the story and know for sure that he was innocent. "Don't worry, Bron," I said as our tacos were brought out to the table. "We'll get to the bottom of this."

*  *  *

On the short drive to Castle Rock, I'd tried Reese's cell phone. No answer. His truck wasn't parked in the employee lot, but I was happy to see Kat's Honda Civic—that is, until I spotted the two police cars parked alongside it. There were several cops standing around the back exit and loading dock. Sergeant Sinclair had assigned officers to guard the sealed off areas of Castle Rock, and his forensics team would be in and out of those areas as they continued their investigation.

As we rounded the corner to the venue's entrance, we found another vehicle parked in the gravelly front area, a black Jeep Liberty. Detective Ben Dixon was leaning against the Jeep, arms folded across his chest. His expression was unreadable behind a pair of mirrored aviators.

"Good afternoon, Miss Grace, Bronwyn." He gave us a curt nod. He turned to me. "Might I have a word with you in your office? I have a few more questions about last night."
Great, just what I need—a surprise inquisition.

"Sure, come on in." I opened the employee entrance and made an "after you" gesture with my arm. Bronwyn walked in after him, giving me a nervous glance. "Be cool," I mouthed. I sent Bron to the break room to fetch some coffee as I escorted Dixon to my office. Once inside, I offered the detective a chair and took a seat behind my desk, clasping my hands in front of me on its ledge. "What more would you like to know?" I asked, getting straight to the point.

Dixon twisted the tip of his red mustache between his thumb and forefinger. "What can you tell me about the relationship between Laura Holly and Parker Deering?"

Uh oh
. I didn't want to betray Bronwyn's trust by spilling everything she'd just told me. Plus everything I knew would just make Reese seem guiltier. If the police caught me lying, though, I'd have a whole new world of problems—and I didn't think an orange prison jumpsuit would do much for my complexion. I'd need to choose my words carefully. "Laura is a bartender here, but she's dating our bouncer, Reese Martin. Parker's just her boss."
All true. So far, so good.

"Fair enough," Dixon said. "So, you weren't aware that Miss Holly and Mr. Deering had a relationship of a less professional nature?"

"A 'less professional nature?'" I continued to play dumb. "We all had drinks with Parker after hours sometimes, if that's what you mean…" I supplied. "He was more like a friend to everyone than just a boss."

Dixon's mouth set in a hard line, and his eyes narrowed. He knew I was making him spell it out for me, and he wasn't happy about it. "Were you or were you not aware that Laura Holly and Parker Deering were engaged in a sexual relationship? Be straight with me, Miss Grace—I know you were with Mr. Stone outside of Parker's office yesterday. You heard the two of them together, didn't you?"

Crap
. I hadn't thought about what Stone might have told them. He had no reason to keep mum about overhearing Parker's little tryst. There was no dodging the real question now.

I'd come too far to admit that I now knew it was Laura I'd overheard with Parker—if I came clean, he might be angry enough to nab me for obstruction of justice or some other trumped up charge. Since Stone and I had not actually
seen
Laura with Parker, he'd also want to know how I knew for sure whom Parker was with. I couldn't turn Bronwyn in for eavesdropping on the sarge again—she'd be in some serious trouble too.

I chuckled and raised an eyebrow at him in an attempt to look skeptical. "That's absurd!" I said. "Laura and Reese have been together for two years. In that time I've never seen Parker and Laura fooling around—or before then, for that matter. Mr. Stone and I
did
hear Parker with a woman in his office yesterday afternoon, but I can honestly say I never saw the woman, and I didn't recognize her, er, moans. I have no proof that it was Laura Holly."
Hah! Take that, Detective!
I gave myself a mental high-five.

Dixon thought this over for a few moments, but in the end he seemed to believe me. "'Not aware' it is, then." He smiled to himself as he jotted something down on his notepad. "So, let's switch gears. What can you tell me about the relationship between Mr. Deering and Katherine Taylor?"

"Kat?" This question caught me by surprise. "Kat's been my best friend since we were in preschool. We've both worked for Parker for five years now. They've got a great working relationship, but that's all."
What is he getting at?

Amusement played across Dixon's face. He flashed me a grin that reminded me of a devious child with a secret. I half expected him to taunt me with a few rounds of
"I know something you don't know!"
in a singsong voice. "Miss Grace," he began, setting down his notepad and clasping his hands in his lap. "Either you're a really good actress, or you really don't know as much as you think you do about what's been going in your precious Castle Rock. You'd think that after being friends for so many years that your pal Kat would've at least invited you to their wedding."

I stared blankly at Dixon for almost a solid minute. Then I collapsed into a laughing fit in my chair. "Good one, Detective!" I doubled over as I guffawed. "Kat and Parker married? Sure, when pigs fly!"

"Then there's a little porker out there somewhere who got his wings about six months ago," Dixon retorted. My laughter died in my throat, and I blinked at him.
He's serious.
If Kat and Parker had so much as gone on a single date—
believe me—
I would have known about it! Kat had always spent most of her time off from work shooting pool or schooling me at Indiana Jones pinball at The Cavern—although I was starting to give her a run for her money—or sitting on my balcony dishing about life, love, and liquor. At some point, the topic of
"I'm marrying our boss"
would've come up.

Kat
has
been kind of MIA lately
. We hadn't hung out as much over the past few months—but it had been a busy time for Castle Rock. I'd been focused on making myself look good for my annual review, and Kat had been coming in early and staying late often to work with Parker on some of our show promotions…
Wait a second
. Then there was mystery man in her office yesterday. But Parker had been in his office, hadn't he? At least, his door had been shut, and his radio was on. I had no way of knowing for sure. Was Parker Kat's mystery boyfriend—no,
husband?

No
. Dixon was just playing mind games with me, trying to trick me into giving away something that might help him find out what really happened to Parker. "I don't believe you." I said stubbornly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Believe it." He pulled a manila envelope from inside his coat and slid it across my desk. I reluctantly picked it up and pulled a sheet of paper from inside. As I scanned the document, my eyes nearly popped out of my head. It was a State of Nevada marriage certificate for Katherine Elise Taylor and Parker Devon Deering in the city of Las Vegas on May 20 of that year. "Found it in Deering's desk drawer," Dixon added smugly as I gawked at the document in my hands.

My mind raced.
May 20?
Kat and Parker had flown to Las Vegas that week for a talent booking and promotions conference at the Venetian Hotel and Casino. I was originally supposed to go with Kat, but two days before we were scheduled to leave, I'd caught what I was pretty sure was a mutant version of the flu. I had a 101-degree fever for several days and almost ended up in the hospital. There was just no way I could make the trip.

Parker jumped at the chance to fill in for me. He planned to gamble away the last of his inheritance and hit up a classic car expo that was happening that weekend just off the Vegas Strip. Laura and Reese were left in charge of Castle Rock while Kat and Parker took off for the weekend, and I stayed at home in bed, coughing, sneezing, and moping that I couldn't be living it up Vegas-style with my bestie.

When they came back from the trip, everything had seemed normal—or, at least, I had thought so at the time. Kat brought me chicken soup and dished about her Vegas vacation. She told me stories about lounging poolside at the hotel while hot cabana boys refilled her yard-long margarita glasses, watching the amazing fountain show at the Bellagio, and seeing a Cirque du Soleil show at Treasure Island. Exchanging vows with Parker certainly never came up.

If Kat had married Parker, why would they have kept it secret for the past six months? More importantly, if my best friend was now Parker's wife, what in the hell was he doing in his office with Laura yesterday? Something didn't smell right about this whole situation.

I didn't have very long to process the news. Detective Dixon took the paper and envelope back from me, returned them to his coat pocket, then he fired off his next question. "Do you have any reason to believe that anyone you know or work with wanted Parker dead?"

I shook my head, dazed. "I don't really know
what
to believe anymore," I said quietly. I let his words sink in, and I looked up, confused. "Wait—I thought Parker's death was ruled a suicide."

The detective glanced back at my office door to make sure that it was properly closed this time—he'd learned from his mistake the night before. Still, he leaned in close and lowered his voice. "We're still waiting on the coroner's report," he confided. "But the preliminary report from the crime scene notes the presence of an unexplainable wound on the back of Mr. Deering's head. Parker landed face-first,"—I cringed as he said this, once again picturing my poor boss face-down on the concrete—"but there was a contusion at the base of his skull that was inconsistent with the angle he landed. Slight bruising suggests that it occurred before his fall. If I didn't know any better, I'd say someone clocked him good before he fell." Dixon leaned back in his chair again and gave me a suspicious look. "Know anyone who might've wanted to hit Mr. Deering?"

The blood drained from my face. Between what Bronwyn told me at lunch and my vivid nightmare from the night before, Dixon's theory made a lot of sense. I didn't know for sure if Parker was dead before he fell, but one thing was certain: he was at least unconscious when he tumbled from the tower. He had either been pushed or dumped over the side—which meant someone had been in the tower with him.

Bronwyn chose that moment to pop into the office with our coffee. Dixon eyed my pale face and must have decided that perhaps I needed some time to think about all this new information before I could tell him anything of use. "I'll take mine to go," he said, rising from his chair. He took the Styrofoam cup from Bronwyn's outstretched hand. "Amelia, if you think of anything you want to tell me, give me a call." He slid his card across my desk and strode out the door.

Bron cocked her head and eyed me, obviously wanting to know what went down in my office while she was making coffee. I didn't have time to explain to her now—I needed to talk to Kat. "Stay here," I told her then I bolted from the office. I burst into Kat's office without knocking but halted in her doorway when I caught sight of her.

Even in all our years of mascara-running, puffy-eyed, runny-nosed crying sessions over boys and the like, at that moment, Kat looked the worst I had ever seen her. Her normally voluminous, wavy hair hung limp around her pale face. Her eyes were so swollen from weeping that I wasn't sure if she could even see me standing there. She looked eons older than the bright-eyed, goofy girl I'd had lunch with yesterday afternoon.

Kat looked up slowly from her desk full of crumpled tissues. Her waterlogged eyes barely registered me at first. "Amelia?" she said hoarsely. When her eyes met mine, I could tell she knew that I knew. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you." Her face crumpled and she broke down, sobbing.

Seeing my best friend in so much pain made me heartsick. I hurried around the desk and hugged her fiercely. "It's okay, honey. It's going to be okay." I didn't know what else to say.

"I was going to tell you," she choked out. I eased around her desk and grabbed a bottle of water from her mini-fridge, then grabbed her box of Kleenex and guided her over to the green leather couch along the far wall of her office. Bottle and fresh tissue in hand, she curled up on the couch and filled me in on the details of her marriage to Parker Deering.

It's no secret that Parker was kind of a cheapskate. Rather than paying for a second room in Vegas, he decided to save money by bunking with Kat in the room that she and I were to share. What started out as an innocent work trip became a weeklong affair fueled by too many free cocktails from the casino. She and Parker had partied a little too hard, and one thing lead to another—by the end of the first night they were pushing the twin hotel beds together. They agreed to a one-week, no-strings-attached fling—just while they were in Vegas. By the end of the third day, Kat decided to blow off the rest of the conference, and they spent the remainder of the trip together, partying on the Strip, attending all the best shows, and getting wet and wild in their Venetian Jacuzzi.

Between sniffles, Kat told me about how the last night in Vegas was a complete blur. She vaguely remembered flashes of a poker game at one of the casinos, bottomless margaritas, an Elvis impersonator, and a chapel. She overslept on the day of their departure and awoke in a panic with a killer hangover. Stumbling out of the hotel bed, she tripped over Parker's pants and kicked a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket. She picked it up and unfolded it to discover that it was their marriage certificate.