Tacked to Death (19 page)

Michaela weighed their story. The two
of them were looking at each other with tears in their eyes. She
had the gut feeling that neither one had murdered Sterling. They
were two sad and hurt people who truly needed each other and not
any type of replacement to work through the void in their
hearts.

She apologized for her questions and
stood up. Turning, she saw Ed Mitchell walking toward her. He had
two wineglasses in his hands. Giving one to Michaela, he said, "I
understand that you think I'm a killer."

Twenty-Seven

“
I don’t think you’re a killer.
I never really did, but…I had suspicions to go on." Michaela knew
it sounded lame, but this was so awkward. Why didn't she just come
right out and accuse him?

"Suspicions or not, you know me. If you
had questions about me or my family, you should've come straight to
me. I have nothing to hide. My daughter is distraught by your
accusations and your sending the police my way. It's no trouble for
me. I can handle Peters. However, Juliet is far more delicate and
this situation is troubling her."

"Did Juliet tell you that she broke
into my house?"

Ed frowned.

Michaela glanced over Ed's shoulder and
saw Juliet and Zach whispering at a table in the corner. She
sighed. "Did Juliet tell you anything at all about last night? That
she threatened me with a gun?" She noticed Ed flinch.

"I think that maybe we should discuss
this outside."

She thought about this for a moment.
"On the patio then."

Ed gestured for her to lead the way.
Once outside they sat down at a small table. Ed leaned in. "Taber
was a piece of shit and I don't care that he's dead." He shook a
finger at her. "But I didn't kill the SOB. I didn't hire a hit man
either, if that's what is going on in your curious mind. What I did
was scare him away from my daughter. At least I tried to. Someone
performed a service when they did away with him. Do I think you did
it? No. I even told Peters that this morning when he rousted me at
seven and quizzed me about that ridiculous letter my daughter
wrote. Look, I had the guy followed. He was up to no good, screwing
around on Juliet with anything that walked. Hell, Sorvino's little
brat was on that list. I told Pepe he better keep an eye on his
daughter, or else she could also wind up like that girl Juliet and
Zach told me about in Santa Barbara."

"Rebecca Woodson."

"Yes. I know Taber got off on that rap,
but he was one shady guy and I wouldn't doubt there was foul play
involved. The last thing I wanted was to have Juliet carrying on
with him."

Michaela didn't know what to
say.

"My daughter doesn't always use common
sense. I apologize for last night. I'm not pleased with what she
and Zach did. I know you're no killer. My daughter should also know
that I'm no killer. Saying that she was trying to protect me is
ludicrous. I don't need any protection. I was with two other
couples the day that Taber was murdered. She didn't know that
because she was busy with the fashion show. But that is a
fact."

"You say that you had Sterling
followed?"

He nodded. "A private
investigator."

"And Sterling and Lucia Sorvino were
friends?"

"More than that. My guy followed them
to the polo grounds, where they were messing around in a
stall."

"Really? Do you know, then, why Lucia
would finger me as someone who was screwing around with
Sterling?"

"She did that?" He laughed. "She's a
strange kid, and trouble, too. I have no idea."

"What about Pepe Sorvino?"

He shrugged. "What about him? Good man.
Caters all of our parties. I respect his business and his
family."

She nodded. "I see. Are you also
friends?"

"We do business together."

"What kind of business?"

"You are one nosy woman. I'll indulge
you, though, because I like your ambition. I told you that he
caters my parties. He did such a wonderful job at our last party
that I gave him a ring he wanted to give his wife for their
thirtieth wedding anniversary."

That must have been what he'd been
doing the day Michaela spotted them after Sterling had been
murdered. Mitchell was paying Pepe in jewelry for a job he'd
done.

"I certainly hope you get this
straightened out, Michaela. If you need any help, let me know. Next
time you think I might be involved in something sinister,
communicate with me. It'll save you a lot of time and stress. Good
to talk and air it out. I've got to go now. I need to see Tommy
Liggett. We have a shipment due in this afternoon. I need to be
sure that he's headed over there."

Michaela watched him saunter away,
reminding her of a character Jack Nicholson might play.

She had pretty much reached the end of
her rope and decided it was time to leave Sterling's memorial,
maybe take another trail ride, or at the very least get out with
the horses. Once again she needed to clear her mind, and the only
way she knew how was by taking time out with her
animals.

She didn't bother to say good-bye to
anyone inside Sorvino's but instead walked to the parking lot. She
did make a mental note that Tommy Liggett would be at Mitchell's
jewelry store later in the day. She wanted to speak with him about
last summer and hear his version of the Rebecca Woodson
story.

As she wound down the hill from
Sorvino's toward the main road, she spotted a black Ford Explorer
at a stop sign in front of her. Sure there was more than one black
Explorer around, but her gut told her that this was the same car
that had followed her yesterday. She punched it and got right
behind the vehicle, but then thought twice. It was the same car,
and she knew it was because of the license plate. She'd been able
to get the first three numbers and pass them on to Joe; now she
read the other numbers and started repeating them out loud to
memorize them. It looked to her like she'd found the driver who'd
followed her into the shopping center.

She gave herself enough time to get
behind a few cars after they turned out onto the main highway. She
did note that whoever was driving did not appear to have long
blonde hair. That made her wonder if she was on the right track,
but intuition urged her on and she stuck with the car for about ten
miles, until the driver turned into a residential area. Now she'd
have to be more inconspicuous. She slowed her speed way down and
figured that whoever was driving hadn't picked up on the fact that
they were being followed, or else they would have made an attempt
to lose her. At least that was her guess.

The vehicle finally stopped, and she
pulled up in front of a house about a block away. Typical
desert-style, flat-roofed homes lined the streets, their landscape
a mixture of cactus, rock, and lawn. The area was a nice one, so
people obviously made efforts to run their sprinkler systems and
keep the greenery alive.

A man got out of the car—tall,
dark-haired, wearing a suit. She squinted to get a better look at
who it was. She knew him. He moved like a man on a mission, holding
himself confidently and not really giving a damn what others
thought. He shoved one hand into his pocket and headed toward the
door. Yeah, she knew the guy—Mario Sorvino.

He walked up to the front door of the
home, which was shrouded by bushes, and a woman came out to greet
him. She had long dark hair—not blonde. Interesting. They hugged
and kissed, then went inside the house. It had to be a girlfriend.
It was the right Explorer, though. Those first three numbers gave
it away.

After about ten minutes sitting in her
truck and wondering what she should do, she decided to get out and
search around the SUV. Sure it might be risky, but it was broad
daylight and she'd scream bloody murder if Mario even came close to
her. He was probably "busy" inside the house with the woman. She
didn't know what she expected to find by peering into the back of
the vehicle, or why she felt the need to do so. But she did, and
what she saw on the backseat made her flinch: a blonde
wig.

She hightailed it out of there,
thinking, Mario Sorvino with a blonde wig in the back of his car.
Mario Sorvino had followed her. Mario Sorvino said that Sterling
got what he deserved, which appeared to be the consensus of many.
But was Mario Sorvino the killer? Her jaw hurt as she realized she
was clenching her teeth. Dammit, if she could tie things together
and then take it all to the police, that's exactly what she would
do. She needed Joe's help here. She tried to call him but didn't
get an answer, so she left a voice mail.

Her phone rang and she immediately
picked it up. It had to be Joe returning her call. To her surprise
it was Ethan. "Hey, Mick. How are you?"

She didn't want to worry him, so she
replied with the standard, "Fine. I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine," he replied.
"You sound stressed. Why don't you come by and see your godson and
get away for a bit?"

She sighed. "I would, but I'm just
coming back from Sterling Taber's funeral and I'm not in the best
of moods." She was trying to find some excuse. As much as Michaela
would've loved to see Ethan and Josh, she doubted that Summer would
welcome her with open arms. Whenever they did all get together
there was a definite uneasiness between the two women.

"You went to the service? You are a
glutton for punishment. All the more reason why you should stop by.
Plus, I bought a new horse I want you to see."

"You did? That's great, but really,
isn't Wednesday always your day off? You should hang out with your
family."

"Mick, sometimes you can be so
difficult. Stop acting like a pain in the ass and come see my new
horse. I'd like to put him in training with you. He's a
two-year-old, beautiful sorrel animal. Excellent bloodlines. Plenty
of Peppy in him."

"Really?" She did like the sound of
that. Okay, maybe she could deal with Summer for an
hour.

"You're intrigued, I can tell. Come on
over."

What was she thinking? She couldn't go
to his place. She needed to track Joe down and find out what Mario
Sorvino had been after and if he did Sterling in. Time was running
out. Her parents would be returning from their vacation next week,
and Jude was due back on Friday. She didn't want them to return
home to this chaos that her life had rapidly become.

"You're coming, right? Only an hour.
Come on, Joshy wants to see you. Me, too. I want to make sure
you're as okay as you say you are."

She sighed. "Fine. But I don't have
long."

Her stomach sank as she turned into the
ranch where Ethan had moved only a little over a year ago. He'd
gone from bachelor to husband and father in such a short time. The
place belonged to Summer, who like Lance Watkins trained show
jumpers. It was an interesting combination, with Ethan's reiners
also lining the stall corridor.

Their place was large with both indoor
and outdoor arenas, a small pasture, and several boxed stalls. A
hot walker sat out behind the stalls, near a set of wash racks. It
wasn't one of the larger facilities, but it compared with
Michaela's. Summer had sold off quite a few of her horses since
Josh had been born and she wasn't doing much training these days.
Ethan had told Michaela that she didn't seem interested in the
horses the way she used to be, and he'd wondered about it. Michaela
figured that motherhood had replaced some of the need to be around
the animals as much as before, but she didn't completely buy it.
She'd been around the three of them from time to time and, as bad
as it made her feel to think it, she didn't believe Summer was the
most attentive and loving mother. From what she could tell, Ethan
had taken on the brunt of the parenting. Then again, maybe she was
simply judging with some jealousy mixed in there.

Summer answered the door in her typical
state of perfection—long red hair curled at the ends, flawless
ivory skin with makeup intact, a pair of navy slacks, and a pressed
white blouse. Summer was so very Summer, and Michaela swallowed
hard. "Hi, Michaela. Nice to see you." She fidgeted with her watch
and checked the time. "Ethan has been talking nonstop about this
horse and how great you'll be at working with him, so I suggested
he call you and have you over." She touched her shoulder. "I'm
sorry about what you've been going through lately."

Gag. Sure. "Thank you. I appreciate
that."

"Come on in. Ethan is in the kitchen
giving Josh his bottle." She grabbed a purse from the coat closet
next to the front door. "I have to run out right now. Sorry I
couldn't visit. Next time."

"Sure, no problem. Nice to see you,
too."

Michaela felt relieved. It was so weird
between them. Anyone who'd been watching the two of them exchange
pleasantries could see that they were both being fake with each
other. There was no love lost between them. She couldn't help
wonder if Summer's exit had to do with her coming over.

"Mick? That you?" Ethan appeared from
around the corner into the hallway of what Michaela referred to as
the mini-manor, which was as perfect as Summer—decorated to a tee.
Not a color mismatched, not a speck of dust anywhere.