MIND READER (29 page)

“Well,” Ina said, “I’ll expect you both here by noon Christmas Day. Tell your Parker now, you hear?”

“Thank you. I’ll tell him.”

“I’ll call if I hear anything more before then. I told that scum I’d called the police. I’m half expecting he’ll stomp my irises again, so I’m keeping a close watch.”

“Ina, you be careful. Decker could be dangerous. Stay
away from him, okay?”

“I didn’t roll out of the swamp yesterday, child. I know not to kick a mad dog when he’s foaming at the mouth.”

“All right.” Caron smiled. “See you Christmas.” Caron
hung up and turned to Parker. “Ina expects us at noon
for Christmas dinner.”

“Okay with me, if it’s okay with you. I’m due a square meal.” Parker crunched down on a cracker.

There was no justice. Even pouting, he was gorgeous.
“Tacky, honey.”

“Truth, sweetheart.” He smoothed peanut butter onto another cracker. “What else did Ina have to say?”

“Around noon Tuesday, Decker and Keith and Linda
Forrester had a whopper of an argument in Decker’s
driveway. Forrester threatened to kill Linda and Decker.”

Parker stopped chewing. “And two hours later she turns
up dead.”

Caron brushed a crumb from his lip. “Right.” She
grabbed her purse, took out the pills Dr. Z. had given her, then dry-swallowed two. “I know Forrester looks guilty,
but...it just doesn’t feel right.”

Parker shoved back his chair. “I think it’s time we had a
chat with Decker.”

Caron downed a swig of Coke. “So do I. But he won’t
talk to us. Why should he?”

“Because we’re going to put the fear of God into him.
Attack, remember?”

“The sooner the better, Parker. Misty’s awake.”

“Is she—?”

“She’s scared and in pain, but she’s holding on.”

So was Caron.

Parker pounded on Decker’s door. Inside the house, Killer started barking. “Come on, Decker,” Parker shouted. “I know you’re in there.”

Decker swung the door open. Killer bounced against the screen, popping it with his front paws. “Get outa here.” He
kicked at the dog, then growled at Parker. “What the hell
do you want?”

The beer in his hand foamed from his hand gestures. Caron squeezed Parker’s hand, then let go.

“Straight talk, buddy.” Parker’s expression darkened.
“You helped Keith Forrester and a redhead kidnap a kid
named Misty. Her bike’s in your garage. Your sister, Linda,
found out. She didn’t like it. Now she’s dead. In a few minutes, cops are going to be crawling all over your ass. And we’re the only thing standing between you and the
electric chair. Now talk.”

“I didn’t kill her.”

“Well, it’s your hide Forrester nailed to the wall.”

Decker narrowed his eyes. “Who the hell are you?”

Avoiding Parker’s gaze, Caron barged in. Sometimes, the truth just wouldn’t do. “We’re private investigators.”

“I don’t have to talk to you.”

“No, you don’t,” Parker agreed. “But you’re in this up
to your earlobes, and every cop in town knows it. We’re the
only chance you’ve got, and probably the only people in the
world who figure you
didn’t
kill Linda.”

Decker’s eyes misted. “I didn’t.”

Caron challenged him. “But you know who did.”

Decker looked torn between talking to them and telling them to go to hell. Caron pressed. “Someone is going to go to jail for kidnapping Misty and murdering your sister, Mr.
Decker. If you don’t help us, that someone is going to be
you.”

He dragged a hand through his hair and stepped back from the door. Parker opened it and went inside. Caron
followed.

Decker plopped down in his recliner. Caron watched
Killer. He sat alert at his master’s feet, his ears pricked, but
he wasn’t growling. She didn’t trust either of them.

“Linda was all I had.” Decker’s red-rimmed eyes proved
he’d been doing some heavy-duty drinking, or mourning, or both. He shielded his eyes with his hand and rubbed.

Caron started to say something, but Parker’s glance had
her keeping quiet.

Decker’s chest heaved. “That filthy cop offed her.” He
pounded the arm of his chair with his fist. “I’m gonna kill
him. Just as soon as I find that slimy jerk, I’m gonna rip
his heart right outa his chest and feed it to my dog.”

Caron swallowed back the knot of revulsion clogging her
throat. Her knees went weak. He was talking about Sandy. She knew it as well as she’d known Sandy was involved.

“Sanders?” Parker asked, not sounding at all sur
prised. He walked to the television and lifted a gold-framed
photo.

“Yeah, Sanders.” Decker took a long draw from the beer.

Parker raised the photo. “Is this Linda?”

Caron saw the long blond hair, the same beautiful face they’d seen lifeless in the morgue. It was her.

Decker pursed his lips and nodded.

“Why do you say Sanders killed her?” Caron couldn’t
believe in her heart that Sandy could kill anyone; there had
to be another explanation.

“He was sleeping with her.” Decker shook his head. “It’s
kind of complicated.”

Needing the support, Caron leaned back against the door. “We have time.”

“Keith got into a little trouble at work. Played hotshot with somebody else’s money. Sanders found out, and was
gonna have Keith arrested.”

Parker looked at Decker. “Sounds reasonable, so far.”

“They knew each other from way back. Sanders and
Forrester and Linda.”

“It can’t be that far back,” Caron insisted. “Sandy’s a good twenty years older than Forrester.”

“No, he ain’t.” Decker made a scissors motion with his fingers. “Keith’s touchy about age. He’s had everything
lifted that can be lifted. So’s Linda.”

Parker shrugged. “That doesn’t explain why Sanders
would kill her.”

“He’s in love with her. Always has been. And when he
went head-on with Keith about the money, Keith used that.
He told Linda he’d ‘learned his lesson,’ that he’d never do
anything crooked again. And he sent her to Sanders to patch things up and take off the heat.”

“
Sent
her?” Caron cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

Decker sighed. “Keith told Linda that she was the only one who could keep him out of jail. She had to pretend
she’d fallen in love with Sanders to get him to give Keith a
little time to fix things.”

“And she did it?” Caron couldn’t hide her shock.

“Yeah.” Decker sniffled, then cleared his throat. “She
was crazy about Keith. She did anything he asked her to do.
Always.”

Parker stuffed his hand into his pocket. “So Linda became Sandy’s lover and persuaded him to keep his mouth
shut about Keith and the money.”

“Yeah.” Decker took a long swallow of beer, then
crunched the can between his palms. “Then Sanders found
out Linda was stringing him along. He dropped by her house.
 
Keith was supposed to be out of town.”

“But he wasn’t,” Parker said.

“No. He was popping Linda on the sofa. Sanders
saw them through the window.”

Decker twisted his lips. “So Sanders waited till morning, then came here looking for her. Everybody knows Linda comes over here every Tuesday.” Sending Caron a leering smile, he added, “Considers it her family duty to
straighten me out.”

Caron grimaced. Could it have been Sandy, not Forres
ter, Ina’s neighbors had seen arguing with Linda and Decker?

“So what happened?” Parker put the photo back.

“She wasn’t here. She’d gone to the beauty shop first. I told Sanders. He was messing around with Killer’s leash. Said it was just what Linda needed to keep her in line.”

Caron blinked, then blinked again. “Where is it now?”

Decker shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s the last time I
saw it.”

“So Sandy left, right?” Parker prodded.

“Yeah. But first he called Linda and told her to meet him
at their place.” Decker got out of the recliner. “I’m gonna
grab another beer.”

He’d be in plain sight, but Caron still tensed. Parker
nodded.

“Their place.” Decker guffawed. “Sandy acted like it
was a big secret. Hell, everybody knew they went to the
camp. Even Keith knew it.”

Caron condemned Decker; in her heart, she blamed him
for not protecting his sister. “You let her meet him?”

Decker guffawed again. “Honey, it’s clear you don’t
know Linda. Since she was sixteen and Keith popped her cherry in the back seat of his daddy’s Caddy, ain’t nobody been able to tell her nothing. I couldn’t stop her. Nobody
could. But I did follow her.”

“So you saw Sandy kill her?” Parker picked up a sea-
shell from a shelf covered with trinkets and put it to his ear.
He sounded calm, but his hand wasn’t steady.

“No. I got caught behind a wreck and lost her. By the time I got up to the camp, Linda was dead. Piled on the grass, deader than dirt.” He snapped the top off the beer
and took a long swig.

“What time was that?”

Decker lowered the can from his mouth and swallowed.
“About three-thirty.” He shrugged. “Maybe four.”

It didn’t fit. Something was very wrong here. But what? Caron licked her lips. “You’ve explained everything except why you got involved in the kidnapping.”

“Because of Linda. Keith told me he’d fixed the papers
to make it look like
she’d
stolen the money. He’s got one of those fancy computers. He said that either I went along, or
Linda went to jail. So I went along.”

“Where’s Forrester now?” Parker returned the shell.

“I don’t know. Probably shacked up with the redheaded tramp who started all this.”

“Vanessa?” Caron asked, playing a hunch.

“Who knows? He don’t tell me his tramps’ names. But whoever she is, her money comes from her old man.
 
She’s broke on her own.”

“Do you know his name?” Caron tensed, tempted to shake the truth out of Decker.

“No. Never heard it.”

Parker stepped to Caron’s side, as if sensing she’d need him close. “Decker,” he said. “Who is Misty—and where
is she?”

Caron’s heart skipped a full beat, then pounded against
her
ribs. She was scared to breathe, to so much as blink.

“I don’t know who she is or where they have her.” He shook his head. “I swear, if I did, I’d cut her loose like
Linda wanted.”

“Misty was here,” Parker said, in a flat tone.

“Yeah, until Linda saw her. Couple hours later, Keith picked the kid up. I don’t know where he took her.”

Caron squeezed Parker’s arm. She believed Decker. He
didn’t know where Misty was now. But he was wrong about
Sandy; he hadn’t killed Linda.

“Where’s this camp?”

“Uh-uh. No way you’re getting that out of me. Forres
ter will kill me. Or Sanders will.”

Caron smelled Decker’s fear and knew he wouldn’t change his mind.

“We aren’t going to tell the police what your involve
ment in this is, Decker—at least not yet. But don’t take off.”

“My sister’s funeral’s tomorrow. I’ll be there.”

“Parker.” Caron nodded toward the door.

He gave her a perplexed look, but followed her outside.

She didn’t say a word. They got into the car and closed
the doors.

Then Parker looked Caron straight in the eye. “Vanessa
is Misty’s mother.”

“What?”

“It fits.”

“Parker, you’re making a huge mental leap here.”

He covered her hand on her thigh. “Just listen, okay?
Then, if I’m out in left field, you can be the first to tell me
you told me so.”

“Okay.”