Cut to the Quick (7 page)

“Just ‘Hello, how’s your day?’ Like that.”

Vining understood how the innocuousness of Somerset’s actions made them as chilling as if he’d made an overt threat.

“Did she file a stay-away order?”

“Her mom said she was about to. A couple of weeks ago, Lauren and her dad approached Somerset. Her dad told him he was upsetting Lauren and her children. Somerset said he couldn’t understand how his being nice to her and watching out for her was a problem. Her dad got heated. Told him it was a big problem and he’d better knock it off.”

Vining shot an angry glance at Somerset in the conference room. “And?”

“Somerset started turning red from his neck all the way up to his scalp. All he said was, ‘Okay.’ ”

“Okay?”

“That’s it. Okay. He turned and walked away, holding his arms down by his sides, all rigid. Lauren didn’t see him after that and they figured it was over.”

“Any priors?” Vining inclined her head to look into the eyes of the shorter Ruiz and not at the top of his bald head.

“No.” Ruiz looked at Somerset in a way that was almost hungry, as if daring him to look up. The man had secrets, and Ruiz wanted them. “He’s a passive-aggressive fucker. You can smell it on him.”

Caspers made a gesture like he was breaking a twig in half. “Snap.”

“You said he’s a computer consultant,” Vining said. “Does he work for a company?”

“He did for a couple of years. The human resources person there said he resigned and won’t give me anything else without a warrant. Somerset dropped out of Caltech after studying there for about a year and a half. Never got his degree. Now he works out of his home. Lives in an apartment above the garage of his parents’ house in San Marino. His daddy owns a company in town that makes some medical technology something. Figures. The loser has a rich daddy supporting him.”

Ruiz, like many cops, had a chip on his shoulder regarding the Pasadena area’s many wealthy denizens. Pasadena and its neighbor, San Marino, had been a playground for the wealthy since the turn of the last century.

Vining didn’t fault Ruiz for his prejudice. She had her own, but also had the conceit that hers was well-earned.

“Did you hear about Mercer’s dog?” Caspers went on when Vining indicated she hadn’t. “Autopsy showed he’d ingested something that ate his guts out. Probably mixed with ground meat.”

“A Prestone patty,” Ruiz commented.

“Who would be that cruel to a dog?” Vining asked rhetorically. The human carnage was unbelievable, but the added offense to the animal pushed it over the top.

They fell silent, thinking of the poor dog eroding from the inside out.

“Planned it all out.” Ruiz narrowed his eyes at Somerset.
“Every step of the way. Just like he was writing a computer program.”

“We haven’t eliminated Mercer’s business partner, Mark Scoville, as a suspect in a murder-for-hire plot,” Vining reminded him. “Scoville and his wife had three couples to their home last night for a dinner party that didn’t end until after eleven. With the TOD estimated between six and nine p.m. that puts him out of any of the wet work. But he got funny when we asked if he knew anyone who might want to do Mercer harm. He volunteered to take a polygraph.”

Ruiz raised bushy eyebrows. “Somerset refuses.”

“You should have heard him go on,” Caspers said. “It’s a matter of principle. The test is ridiculous. Inaccurate and unscientific. He won’t lower himself to participate in a carnival game. Says the fact that the results can’t be used in a trial proves his point.”

“Maybe not, but not participating makes you look guilty.” Ruiz had a gleam in his eye. He felt a rush from being within inches of snatching not just a bad guy, but a snarling, drooling monster.

“It’s one thing to know something. It’s another to prove it.” Vining stated the obvious to get Ruiz’s goat. It worked.

“Gee, Vining … ya think?” Ruiz took off, saying, “I’m getting coffee.”

Vining looked at Caspers. “Guess it’s up to you, Caspers. You want to help me interview Dena Hale?”

“Ch-yeah,” Caspers enthused.

“Remember, eyes on her face. Hands on the table.”

“Detective Vining.” Caspers feigned insult. “I am a professional.”

“A professional what?”

The young detective took a lot of grief from the more-seasoned detectives, but he was an easy target.

Caspers seemed genuinely put off by her ribbing.

Vining grabbed his arm and started toward the room where Hale waited. “Come on, friendly ghost. Let’s put the screws to Mrs. Hell in L.A.”

SIX

“
D
ena’s story
jibed with her husband’s.” Vining used a lime wedge speared with a plastic toothpick to stir the foam of her blended margarita. “Except for one issue.”

“The separate bedrooms.” Kissick caught the bartender’s eye and pointed at his empty wineglass. He said, “Thanks, Paul,” when the bartender pulled the cork from an open bottle of cabernet and filled the glass until it was brimming.

It was well past the dinner hour at Monty’s. The venerable chophouse had been in the same location for sixty-five years. Off the beaten track from the relatively new phenomenon of Old Pasadena and its mostly chain restaurants and shops in restored historic buildings, Monty’s was a beloved locals’ joint. Sadly, developers had finally made the owners an offer they couldn’t refuse. The restaurant was due to be demolished to make way for an office building.

Vining’s cell phone, which she’d set on the bar, jangled musically. She picked it up. “Text message from Em. She’s with her dad and Kaitlyn and the boys in Santa
Barbara.” She read it aloud. “All good. Major shopping today. Love you.”

She snapped her phone closed. “I miss her more than I want to admit.”

“Julie and I have been trading the boys back and forth for years. I still have a hard time when they leave.”

“Did I tell you that Em’s starting a new school?”

“No. Where?”

“The Coopersmith School of the Arts. It’s a magnet school that specializes in music and fine arts. It’s hard to get in. Emily is so excited.”

“That’s great.”

“She’s going to miss her old friends and I’ll have to drive her to and from school for the time being.”

“She’ll be driving before too long.”

“That’ll be something new to stress over.”

“Seems like only yesterday they were in diapers.”

Vining sighed and picked up her drink, which was still nearly full. After a pause, she began, “On another subject, how about Mark Scoville and Dena Hale? I don’t think
they
miss each other when they’re apart. Dena said the room at the left of the stairs is her
salon
. Keeps her clothes there so she doesn’t disturb her husband when she gets up before dawn to go to work. Mark said she sleeps there because of his snoring and because he likes to stay up late.”

“Maybe she was trying to preserve his dignity. Still, I sense trouble in the Tudor. I bet nothing’s happening between the sheets in either bedroom.”

“I bet Scoville sleeps in his parents’ old bedroom. He still has all their furnishings. Their clothes are probably still in the closets.” Vining looked disgusted. “That would send me down the hall to a separate bedroom.”

Kissick sipped his wine and glanced at a basketball game on one of the TVs suspended from the ceiling on
either side of the bar. “What did she say about Mark’s business affairs?”

“Claimed to be the uninvolved wife. Doesn’t know anything about it.” Vining took a bite out of the remaining half of her cheeseburger. It wasn’t on the dinner menu, but the cook would always make one for her. The restaurant’s steaks were great, but didn’t fit Vining’s budget.

“Was she telling the truth?” Kissick snatched a French fry off Vining’s plate and dunked it into the cocktail sauce that went with his shrimp.

“Maybe, but she’s an actress.”

“Newscaster.”

Vining flicked her hand, dismissing the title that bestowed additional gravitas. “Anyway, she was pulled together in the way she answered questions.”

“Self-possessed.”

“Whatever.” He had a habit of suggesting more-precise words, just thinking out loud. Normally, she didn’t mind. He was a college graduate and read a lot. She’d barely gotten her high school diploma and was damn glad she’d made it that far. Right on the heels of Grad Night at Disneyland, she and Wes, her high-school sweetheart, had married. Emily came along soon after. Then, scant years later, divorce, and the ongoing struggle to support herself and her daughter. She wouldn’t dream of undoing any of it if it meant she wouldn’t have Em. Street smarts were more important than book smarts in their line of work anyway, unless one had plans to move up the ladder. Still, she’d like to be better educated. Maybe one day.

She knew Kissick wasn’t showing off, but she felt peevish. The day was getting to her.

He shook his head at something going on in the basketball
game. “Did she know anyone who might do the victims harm?”

“She didn’t know anyone who would hurt Mercer or Richards. As for herself, she’s had nutty fans. One guy used to hang around this restaurant that Scoville owned when they were first married. When the restaurant went belly-up, the guy disappeared. She talked about how tough the restaurant business is, how hard it was for Scoville to lose his business, and so on.”

“Scoville’s had lots of failed business ventures. After I drove him home, I stopped by the house of one of his golf buddies.” Kissick dredged a jumbo shrimp in cocktail sauce and consumed it up to the tail. “This guy was full of stories. He’s also in this investor group that Mercer and Scoville belong to. Said that Mercer and Scoville were having big issues over the billboard company. He laughed when I suggested that Scoville invited Mercer to buy into Marquis because of Mercer’s business smarts. He said Mercer was a dilettante. A great guy, but never worked a day in his life and was more interested in acting like he was a businessman than being one.”

Kissick ate the last of his shrimp. “This guy said that Mercer owned fifty-one percent of Scoville’s company. Sounds like Scoville sold a controlling interest not as a savvy move to bring in expansion money but out of desperation to bail the thing out.”

“I bet he’s run it into the ground since taking it over from his father.” Vining watched a waitress deliver heaping platters of steak to two older men seated at a red vinyl booth along the wall. The waitress, who looked as if she’d worked there since the Nixon administration, used two spoons to mix globs of butter, sour cream, and chives into baked potatoes that were nearly the size of footballs.

“Scoville’s chief financial officer said he couldn’t talk to me. The next thing we’ll hear is ‘talk to my lawyer.’ ”

Vining set the last quarter of her cheeseburger on the plate, wiped her hands, and tossed the napkin beside it. “Even if it was the creepiest murder-for-hire ever, Scoville would have been expecting news of it. There was no denying his and Dena’s shock when they heard about the murders. I didn’t pick up deception from either of them. Scoville doesn’t impress me as a good liar. The only time I felt he was hiding something was when we asked about people who might want to do him or Mercer harm. Maybe they were into a dirty business deal.”

“Scoville has a big ol’ chip on his shoulder. Sounds like Mercer did too. I can see the two of them making enemies.” He pointed at the remaining cheeseburger on her plate. “You going to eat that?”

She slid her plate toward him.

He picked up the burger and bit into it, closing his eyes as he chewed. “Mmm … They do a great burger here.” He popped the rest into his mouth. “I’m really going to miss this place.”

“Me too. Order more food. You didn’t eat very much.” She realized they were doing it again—acting like a couple. They had been for a few months two years ago. Great months, until she’d ended it. She’d had sound reasons. She had a young daughter at home, and wanted to set a better example than her own much-married mother had for herself. Their relationship could affect their work, even though it wasn’t against policy for officers to date or even marry. To be honest, she was scared silly.

He snagged a final, now-soggy fry before shoving the plate away. “I’m trying to take off the weight I gained when I was on IOD leave.”

Kissick had been on leave from the injury he had sustained while working their last case.

Vining looked at his lean frame. “What? Six ounces?”

“Seven pounds. I couldn’t work out for over a month. Who knows? Someone might want it again.” He winked at her.

“There’s that.” She changed the subject. “I caught up with a couple of Scoville’s dinner party guests after I dropped Dena off. They said it was a
normal
evening with the Scovilles. Mark was there the whole time. No unexplained absences.”

“And normal means …?”

“Mark drank too much. Got loud. Dena was pissed off. Got quiet.”

“She has hard-fought sobriety, and she’s living with a drunk,” he said. “I’d say that’s a problem.”

“Hard-fought sobriety?” She didn’t hide her amusement.

“You’ve gotta give the woman her due. She’s been open about her struggle. How she crashed her Ferrari. Went to A.A.”

“You’ve gotta change the channel.”

He sipped his wine, looking a little irked. “So do the Scovilles’ friends have any idea what’s going on in that marriage?”

“No one would admit anything. Maybe Dena and Mark keep their private life private. Dena’s shown she can be proud. Guess she doesn’t have it all after all. I still can’t get over the way her daughter treated her. I can’t imagine Emily ever being that disrespectful to me.”

“My boys toward me either. There are two sides to every story, but still, it’s sad. I think Dena’s lonely.”

“You would.”

“What does that mean?”

“Poor little rich girl.”

“She seemed down-to-earth.”

“I wonder if you’d be so sympathetic if she wasn’t so good-looking.”

“That’s a callous thing to say. I care about all human beings.” He opened his palms if cradling the world between them.

“Especially women with good legs in short skirts.”

“Why Corporal Vining, I didn’t know you cared.”