Double Blind (17 page)

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Authors: D. P. Lyle

Tags: #Mystery, Thriller

BOOK: Double Blind
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“So you could turn off his faucet, so to speak?”

“Could. Wouldn’t. Ain’t really my water. It’s everybody’s. But, Burt Eagan likes to have control. Of everything. Doesn’t trust anyone.”

“I see.”

“Besides, he already owns half the valley. If he gets my land, he’ll have two thirds. I believe he’d like to own the whole damn town.”

“Why?”

“Greed has no bounds,” Billy said. “Besides, rumor is that he wants to expand that lab of his. Owning the entire valley sure would cut down on the opposition to such a move, don’t you think?”

“But, his lab is shut down.”

“For now.” Billy licked sauce from his fingers. “Don’t underestimate Mr. Eagan. He started that lab with profit in mind. It ain’t in his nature to walk away from money. If he saw a chance to open it up again and make a pile of cash, he’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Sam sat for a minute digesting what Billy had said. She downed the last of her beer and turned on her stool to face him. “OK. I’ll see what I can find out, but I want you to do something for me.”

“Like what?”

“Give Wade what he wants.”

Billy shook his head. “No way.”

“Listen, Billy, you’re not helping yourself here. Give Wade a boot print and some blood and a hair sample. When nothing matches, maybe Wade will back off on you and start looking for the real killer.”

“Is this for Wade? Or for you?”

Sam smiled. “I do believe you, but I can’t deny that I would feel better if a crime lab backed up my belief.”

Billy nodded. He ran a finger around the lip of the beer bottle he held. “I’ll think about it.”

The waitress returned, snatched up Billy’s empty plate, and scooted a dish of chocolate ice cream in front of him. “I assumed you wanted the usual.”

“Absolutely,” Billy said. He looked at Sam. “Want some?”

“No, thanks.”

Billy shoveled a spoonful into his mouth. “If I knew when my last meal was going to be, this’d be it. Ribs, beer, and chocolate ice cream.”

 

Chapter 21

After Sam returned home, she showered and changed clothes and then she, Alyss, and Shelby drove to the church, arriving just before the 4 o’clock service for Lloyd Varney. It appeared as though the entire town was there.

Over a background of sniffs and suppressed sobs from the gathered mourners, Reverend Phillip Blaine offered a heartrending eulogy from the church pulpit and then led the congregation to the adjacent cemetery where he stood quietly, as Lloyd’s casket descended into the ground. Billy, scrubbed and dressed in a suit and tie, clutched Louise’s hand, tears soaking his cheeks and beard.

Afterwards, everyone remained frozen in stunned silence as if unsure what to do or say. Slowly, the crowd dispersed. Sam, Alyss, and Shelby offered their condolences and prayers to Louise and then headed for the gate that led from the cemetery grounds.

An elderly couple walked toward them. The woman held the man’s right arm as if helping him balance. His gait was more a shuffle, his left leg dragging behind him as if it were afterthought. His left arm, thin, with pale, parchment-like skin and freckled with brown liver spots, protruded from his blue short-sleeved shirt. Flexed at the elbow and again at the wrist, it lay across his chest, the hand balled into a useless fist that seemed to clutch at his heart. 

As he neared them, he smiled. At least the right half of his face did; the left frozen in a plastic stare. He looked like a living drama mask; one side smiling, the other crying. His eyes sparkled pleasantly.

“Hello, Dr. Locke,” Alyss said. “Martha.” She nodded to the woman and then introduced everyone.

“Nice to meet you.” Sam said.

“Our pleasure,” Martha said. She had soft gray hair and even softer eyes. “You’re the one that found Lloyd, aren’t you?”

Sam nodded.

“Terrible thing,” she continued. “A nice man and a good friend.”

They stood in awkward silence for a second until Alyss spoke. “Dr. Locke is our resident genius. He was nominated for a Nobel Prize once.”

“Really?” Sam said.

“Long ago,” he said.

“What field?” Sam asked.

“Medicine. I didn’t win though.”

“Still, to be nominated is a great honor.”

“You’re very kind,” he said.

Sam’s brain made the connection. “You ran Burt Eagan’s lab.”

He nodded.

“We saw it on our ride the yesterday,” Alyss said. “A low, concrete structure? Down by silver Creek?”

“That’s the one,” Edgar said. “I worked there for a little over a year. Until my stroke. After that, I was unable to continue, so Burt had to shut it down. I don’t know whether he ever found anyone else or not.”

Sam shook her head. “Burt said it wasn’t operational.”

“That’s too bad. I hoped he would get it up and running again. We had some very interesting experiments underway.”

Sam marveled at this man. Despite his frail body with its withered arm and leg, its half frozen face, his eyes were bright and clear and his mind quick. It was as if what the stroke took from him physically, it returned mentally.

Martha smiled apologetically. “We’d better be going. Edgar’s stamina isn’t what it used to be.” They said their goodbyes and turned down the sidewalk toward town.

Sam watched them go. “Impressive man. I don’t think I’ve ever met a Noble nominee.”

 

Chapter 22

The next day, Sam, Alyss, and Shelby arrived at Casa Grande a little past one. Carmelita ushered them to the patio where Burt introduced them to his son Conner and Hollis’ daughter, Kelly.

Conner, eighteen, had just finished his freshman year at Princeton. He was tall, fit, blonde, and possessed his father’s intelligent, intensely blue eyes. His smile was welcoming and his handshake firm. Sam liked him immediately, but noticed Alyss nervously studying Shelby’s reaction to the attractive young man.

Kelly, like Shelby, was seventeen and two weeks out of high school. She had porcelain skin, green eyes, and a pixie-like face, framed by raven hair, cropped and combed so that it curled beneath her jaw. The sunlight added a tempered blue hue. A faint sprinkle of freckles lay across her nose.

Kelly turned to Shelby. “Did you bring your swim suit?”

“Right here,” Shelby said, indicating the Elmo backpack slung over one shoulder.

“Cool bag,” Kelly said. “Come on. I’ll show you where to change.” She led Shelby around the Olympic-sized pool to a low cabana that extended its entire length.

Conner followed them as far as the pool deck. He stripped off his shirt, revealing a lean muscular body above his denim colored swim trunks. He dove into the water and with smooth strokes swam to the other end where he executed a perfect flip turn and reversed his direction.

“He swims like a pro,” Alyss said.

“Conner’s on the swim team at Princeton,” Burt said, his face beaming with pride.

The two girls came out of the cabana, giggling as if they were old friends, raced each other toward the pool, and jumped in.

The water sparkled in the sun. Sam could smell a faint hint of chlorine mixed with the aroma of the pines. Beyond the pool, near the cabana, Carlos was busy firing up a huge oil drum smoker.

Sam accepted a bottle of Budweiser from Burt and sat at one of the patio tables. Burt and Alyss settled across from her, nudging their chairs near each other.

Carmelita placed a plate of quesadillas on the table. “Cheese, Ortega chili, and red onion,” she said. “But, don’t eat too much. Carlos is going to smoke some ribs and brisket.”

“I can’t pass on these,” Sam said. She snatched one of the quesadillas and took a bite. “Hmm. Carmelita, do you cook like this everyday?”

“Only for my Carlos,” she said with a twinkle in her root beer brown eyes. “Mr. Eagan, he eat like a bird. That’s why I like when he has guests. I can make all the things I like.”

“Call me anytime,” Sam said. “I could eat like this every day.”

“She’s not kidding,” Alyss said. “I wish I could eat like her, but if I did, I’d weigh two hundred pounds.”

“Simple,” Sam said. “Just take up boxing as a hobby.”

Carmelita retreated to the kitchen. As soon as the door closed, it reopened.

“Here’s Hollis,” Burt said.

Sam looked up as a man, at least ten years older than Burt, stepped onto the patio. Hollis’ entire appearance screamed vanity. Over-dressed for the occasion, which Sam guessed was typical for him, he wore a caramel cashmere jacket over a white silk shirt and brown pants. The shirt gaped open to the fourth button, revealing a tuft of silver hair and a single gold medallion, which hung from a matching chain. His teeth were perfect, capped; his tan, indoor, paid for. He approached them, a wave of cologne leading the way and a broad, practiced grin on his face.

Burt made the introductions. Hollis shook Alyss’ hand and then Sam’s, which he cupped in both of his. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” he said. His dark brown eyes swept over her face as if studying it for flaws. He released her hand and sat next to her. “Are you ladies enjoying yourselves?”

“Very much,” Alyss said.

“Beautiful day,” Hollis added. “Better than Houston. It was ninety-five and sticky when we left yesterday.”

Burt laughed. “I’ve been telling Hollis that he should build on his land and move here permanently, but I can’t get him out of Texas.”

“Why should I build when I have this place to visit whenever I want?” Hollis said, waving an arm toward the house.

Carmelita appeared with a scotch on the rocks and handed it to Hollis. He took a deep pull. “That’s wonderful. Carmelita, you’re the best bartender I know.”

“Where’s Niki?” Burt asked.

“Getting dressed,” Hollis said. “She’ll be down shortly.”

As if on cue, the door opened and Niki appeared, wearing a bright yellow string bikini beneath a sheer black shirt, open in the front. Sam wondered what took so long to put on.

Even though she was only 22, Niki Upton had a household face. Not homely, household. One that had been in every home in America.
Vogue
,
Cosmo
,
Elle
,
Redbook
, and a number of fitness and lingerie magazines. She was tall, thin, with sunken cheeks, a pert nose, and huge blue eyes, which gave her a startled look that only added to her youthful beauty. Her short blonde hair looked like a tastefully trampled cornfield.

Sam was amazed. And more than a tiny bit pissed. She had seen Niki’s face dozens of times, staring from the magazine rack at the grocery store or on the coffee table at the homes of friends. Niki had even been featured in a television special on the production of some sports magazine’s annual swimsuit layout. Sam had convinced herself that all these beautiful super-models weren’t actually that beautiful. That the camera was simply kind to them. That they wouldn’t really stand out in a crowd. Niki proved all that wrong. Even with no makeup, no special lighting, she was incredibly beautiful.
Damn it!

Then there were those breasts. They looked like two ICBMs, each of which could level a major metropolitan area. Sam felt as if she should move from the line of fire in case Niki’s brain stumbled onto the launch code.

Niki accepted a glass of wine from Carmelita and walked toward them, hips swaying indifferently as if walking the runway in the latest Armani or Versace design. She sat in the empty chair next to Sam.

When Burt introduced Niki to Sam and Alyss, her cool demeanor dissolved into a warm smile. “Sorry I’m late. I was on the phone with my agent. Did I miss anything?”

“No.” Sam said. “There are a few of pieces of quesadilla left.” She slid the plate toward Niki.

“Great.” Niki took one of the wedges and bit into it. “God, I’ve missed Carmelita’s cooking.” She devoured the wedge and took another. “I always eat like a pig when I’m here.” She patted her bare belly. “And I’ve got a lingerie layout to do in Paris in two weeks.” She bit into the second wedge, then licked grease from her fingers. “Oh well, an extra hour in the gym tomorrow.”

Conner, a towel draped over his shoulders, walked up to the table. “Dad, we’re going to take some horses and ride up to the lake. What time’s dinner?”

Carmelita looked out the open window from the kitchen. “Five,” she said. “And don’t be late.”

Conner laughed. “Don’t worry, we won’t.”

Burt introduced Hollis and Niki to Shelby. Shelby’s eyes widened when she shook Niki’s hand.

“I can’t believe it’s really you,” Shelby said. “Conner said you were here. I see your pictures everywhere.”

Niki smiled. “You must work in a garage. Mechanics seem to love my calendars.”

Shelby laughed. “So do the guys on the football team at my high school. And my friend Kaylee thinks you’re like the greatest model ever.”

Niki blushed slightly. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh no, don’t be. I love fans. Where would I be without them?” Niki ran her fingers through her hair. “Give me your friend’s address and I’ll send her a couple of signed pictures. If you think she’d like them.”

“Like them? She would like have a major stroke.”

Everybody laughed.

Beautiful, witty, cool, charming. Niki had it all, Sam thought. She would be easy to hate if she wasn’t so damn nice.

“Come on,” Conner said. “Let’s get going.”

Alyss looked at Shelby. “Wouldn’t you rather stay here and swim?”

Shelby rolled her eyes, released an exasperated sigh, and whispered to her mother. “Mom, don’t do this. I’m not a baby.”

“Something wrong?” Burt asked.

“I’m just concerned,” Alyss said. “Lloyd’s murder. Then, the Kendalls saw something. God knows what.”

Burt smiled. “I heard about that.”

“Oh?” Sam said.

“Forrest Wade told me. I’m sure it was Billy they ran into.”

“I don’t know,” Alyss said. “Besides, Shelby’s not very experienced with horses,” Alyss said.

“She rode beautifully the other day.” Burt leaned toward Alyss, placed a hand on her arm, giving it a gentle pat, and smiled. “Don’t worry. Conner’s been on horses all his life. And he knows these horses better than anyone. And there isn’t some wild man running around in the forest.”

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