Tonight You're Mine (13 page)

“Nothing. The housekeeper claims they
never
had a dog, even when Paul was young.”

“And the other boy?”

“What other boy?”

“Rosa had a son. Juan. He was quite a bit younger than Paul.”

DeSoto shook his head. “I didn't know anything about another boy and she didn't mention him. I don't think it would have made any difference, though. The woman was adamant—no dog,
ever
. Looking around the grounds, I didn't see any signs of a dog.”

“I didn't, either.” DeSoto glanced at her questioningly. “Okay, I took a spin past the house earlier today,” she admitted.

“Did you go to the door?”

“Heavens, no! I haven't even been in Olmos Park since…well, let's just say I didn't have any desire to linger.” She paused. “Do you believe Rosa about the dog?”

“Yes.”

“Then why would the dog be wearing a tag listing the Dominic address?”

“It could have been a mistake. One digit wrong could make a big difference.”

“But what about my seeing a big dog with a man who looked like Paul, then finding the Dominics' address on the ID tag? Doesn't that seem like a bit of a coincidence to you, Sergeant DeSoto?”

“It's Raymond. Ray.” He glanced down at his wine glass, then looked at her solemnly. “No one has seen Paul Dominic for fifteen years. Do you know how unlikely it is that he would suddenly turn up in San Antonio after all this time and come to your father's funeral?”

“You don't believe me,” she said, her disappointment obvious.

Ray's eyes strayed from hers, back to the aquarium. “I'm not saying I don't believe you. I'm just saying what you're thinking is unlikely. However,” he added, suddenly smiling at her, “unlikely isn't synonymous with impossible.”

Nicole let out a big sigh. “Thank goodness you're not just dismissing me.”

“I would never do that. So you think the intruder in the wolf mask might be Dominic?”

Nicole frowned. “It crossed my mind, but now I'm sure it isn't. I believe that dog wearing the ID tag with the Dominic address belongs to Paul. The intruder was attacked by that dog. Why would Paul's own dog attack him?”

Ray twirled his glass in his hands. “Did you get a look at the dog that bit the intruder?”

“No. It was on the other side of the fence. But I'd seen the Doberman
three
times prior to that night and I'd noticed a brass tag hanging from its collar. I believe it was the tag the police found.”

“All right, let's say it
is
the same dog, it belongs to the man you saw in the cemetery, and it wouldn't attack him. Who do you think is coming into your yard wearing a wolf mask?”

“A prankster, I guess.”

“Maybe one of your students?”

“Maybe, although I don't know who. Whoever it is, they don't seem to want to do anything except scare us.”

Ray nodded. “You're keeping all your doors and windows locked?”

“Absolutely.”

He nodded again, set down his wine glass, and gave her a penetrating stare. “If you're convinced Dominic is alive and here in San Antonio, why are you so afraid? I thought the two of you were in love.”

“We were.”

“He's a murderer.”

“That was never proved,” Nicole snapped, then softened. “I'm sorry. It's just so hard for me to believe that Paul could commit
two
premeditated murders. Besides, all they had was circumstantial evidence. That and hearsay.” She sighed. “
My
statements being the most damaging. I'm afraid because he might think I ruined his life.”

“You didn't,” Ray said firmly. “He killed those men in cold blood and then he ran, too cowardly to stand trial.”

“He did run,” Nicole said reluctantly. “But he was arrested because of
me
.”

“And because the murder weapon was found at his house.”

“Nevertheless, I made damaging statements to the police.”

“Statements that would have been considered hearsay.”

“But they were from the woman he loved. How would you have felt in his place?” She leaned forward, speaking intensely. “Ray, don't you see that I
did
destroy his life? I'm afraid of him because what happened to him was because of me.”

“Mrs. Chandler, calm down,” Ray said gently.

Nicole became aware of how her voice had risen. She folded her hands in her lap and concentrated on slowing her breathing. “I'm sorry I lost control, but I'm certain Paul is back.”

“He may be, but the evidence is thin.
Very
thin.”

She looked at her folded hands and the gold wedding band it had never occurred to her to remove. “You're right,” she said calmly.

“I'm glad you feel better.”

She raised her eyes. “I don't feel better. I only meant you were right about the evidence of Paul's return being thin.”

“So you still believe Paul Dominic is in San Antonio and he's trailing you?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I can't change your mind about that and I'm not going to try because there's a chance it's true. But it's only a small chance. I'd say a thousand to one.” He smiled and rose. “I've taken up enough of your time for this evening. I'm sorry I upset you, Mrs. Chandler.”

She walked him to the front door. “Please call me Nicole, and you didn't upset me. It was actually good to talk about this to someone besides my friend Carmen, even if neither one of you believes me.”

“I don't disbelieve you. I'm just skeptical. It's my nature.”

Nicole opened the door. She stared for a moment, then reached out and removed a long-stemmed white rosebud that had been tucked under the knocker.

Ray grinned. “You have an admirer who gives you white rosebuds?”

“Yes,” Nicole whispered. “Paul Dominic always gave me white rosebuds.”

1

Raymond DeSoto pulled away from the Chandler house, drove around a couple of blocks, then returned and parked four houses down from Nicole's.

So she was convinced Paul Dominic had returned. After her father's suicide, he'd heard all the stories about her assault, the double homicide of Zand and Magaro, and Dominic's arrest and subsequent flight into what seemed oblivion. He remembered that time, but it was long ago and whoever told him the story now gave a slightly different version after fifteen years, so Ray had looked up all the newspaper articles from the time to refresh his memory of how things were perceived back then.

What he'd come away with was the picture of a girl who had been badly traumatized over and over within a period of a few weeks. She was brutalized by Ritchie Zand and Luis Magaro. It was a miracle she'd escaped with her life. He was also aware of what the newspapers left out—the belief of a large portion of the police and the public that she'd asked for what happened to her, that by being beautiful, stylish, and out alone after dark, she'd gotten exactly what she deserved.

Then came the revelation that she was involved with Paul Dominic, a rich and famous concert pianist ten years older than she. The press attributed this bombshell to “an unnamed source close to Ms. Sloan.” Ray was certain it wasn't her parents. He'd learned she'd been close to Carmen Vega at the time of the relationship with Dominic, although if she'd been the leak to the press, either Nicole hadn't known or hadn't let it affect their friendship. Of course, Carmen wasn't the only one who knew about Dominic. After all, Magaro and Zand had known exactly where to find Nicole that night—outside the Dominic home.

Now somebody was looking in Nicole's windows wearing a wolf mask. He smiled slightly at the crudity of the trick, but it frightened her. He wasn't as doubtful about Dominic being alive and returning to San Antonio as he pretended to be in front of her—she was right about there being a few too many coincidences. Still, he knew it wasn't Dominic trying to terrorize her in a wolf mask. As Nicole said, he wouldn't be attacked by his own dog.

But was Nicole right about everything else? Was last night a freak encounter between the dog and the prankster, or was Dominic following her? And if he were, what were his intentions? Nicole feared he wanted revenge for the trouble
she
had caused Dominic. Ray shook his head, letting out a sardonic grunt. Nicole hadn't done a damned thing to Dominic except tell the police about the death threat he'd made. Another cop who'd been on the case told him she'd been heavily medicated at the time of that statement. A lawyer would have made mincemeat of her words.

Other than that, Dominic had nothing to blame her for. Maybe he didn't want revenge at all. Maybe he thought he could rekindle their romance. Whatever his reason for following her, he was probably unstable, perhaps even insane. And he was stalking Nicole Chandler.

Ray had his evening planned even before he'd visited Nicole. He reached across the front seat, picked up a thermos, and poured a cup of strong black coffee. Then he sat back in his seat, his head barely visible to a passerby, and settled in for a long night.

2

For her first day back at school, Nicole donned an iris-blue suit with a white silk shell beneath the long jacket, faux pearl earrings and necklace, and a deep russet lipstick. She took special pains with the curling iron to turn her hair into a shining pageboy. No one was going to look at her and see a broken, weepy woman, she thought in satisfaction. “Always put your best foot forward,” Clifton used to say. “Don't show your pain to the world.” “I'm doing my best, Dad,” she said aloud to her reflection in the mirror.

“Are you about ready, Shelley?” she called. “You have to take the bus this morning.”

Shelley bounced into her bedroom, Jesse hot on her trail. “Mommy, how pretty you look!”

“Thank you, sweetie.”

“Did Sergeant DeSoto ask you for a date last night?”

Nicole looked at her in surprise. “How did you know he was here?”

“We don't live in a mansion, Mommy. I heard voices and I peeked out the door.”

“Sure you did. How about this scenario instead? You were watching
NYPD Blue
and you were making sure I was busy so I wouldn't catch you.”

“Mommy, I really
did
hear voices!” Then Shelley grinned guiltily. “But it was during a commercial when I had the earphones out. It was a really good episode. You would've liked it.”

Nicole shook her head, although she couldn't keep the right side of her mouth from lifting in amusement. “You are incorrigible.”

“What's that?”

“Since you're so grown-up, you look it up in the dictionary.”

“Well,” Shelley persisted as Nicole slipped on her wristwatch. “Did he ask you for a date?”

“No.”

“No!” Shelley wailed, thumping down on the bed as Jesse jumped up to join her. “Why not?”

“Did you feed the fish this morning?”

“Sure, but you didn't answer my question. Why didn't Sergeant DeSoto ask you out?”

“Shelley, even if he liked me that way, I'm married.”

“That didn't stop Daddy.”

Nicole paused. “No, it didn't, did it?” She looked down at her gold wedding band and abruptly slipped it off, dropping it in her jewelry box.

“Daddy doesn't wear his, either,” Shelley said quietly. “Does this mean you hate each other?”

Nicole looked at her seriously. “Certainly not. Your father and I were very happy together for a long time and we'll always be close because of you. We're just not really married anymore, except in the eyes of the law, and even that will change soon.”

She expected tears, a melancholy look, a plea for her and Roger to get back together again. Instead, Shelley said simply, “Okay. What about Sergeant DeSoto?”

Nicole rolled her eyes. “My matchmaking daughter. I told you he didn't ask me out.”

“Then why was he here?”

“He came about our prowler.”

“I told you he'd believe us about the werewolf!”

“He doesn't think it was a werewolf. He believes we have a prowler who dresses like a wolf.”

“Are they going to do a stakeout to catch the guy?” Shelley asked excitedly. “Of course, even if they collar him, and he's smart, he'll lawyer-up and not say a word.”

Nicole rubbed a hand across her forehead then burst into laughter. “Shelley, we
have
to cut down on your television time. You don't sound like a nine-year-old girl anymore. You sound like a homicide detective.”

“I think that's what I want to be.”

“I thought you wanted to be a movie star.”

Shelley frowned for a moment. “Maybe I'll be a movie star who
plays
a homicide detective!”

“I'd rather you became a teacher.”

“Oh, Mom,” Shelley said in what Nicole feared would become a frequent teenage whine. Then she brightened, running toward the white rosebud in a bud vase on Nicole's dresser. “Mommy, how pretty!”

“Yes, it is.”

“Is it from Sergeant DeSoto?”

“Honey, it's time for us to be going.”

“You didn't answer—”

“No, it isn't from Ray.”

“Ray?”

“Sergeant DeSoto.”

“Then who's it from?”

Nicole adjusted her right earring and stuck a pack of tissues in her purse. “I don't know.”

Shelley studied the rose, then her mother's face. “I think you
do
know but you don't want to tell me,” she said impishly.

Nicole didn't answer because the child was exactly right.

3

Nicole's campus office seemed strange to her, a place she hadn't occupied for months instead of just a week. When she opened her door, she found a cheerful card from Miguel under her door. How thoughtful of him, she mused as she spooned grounds into the coffeemaker. Her first class wasn't for forty-five minutes, so as the coffee brewed, she sat down at her desk and began sorting through the mail that had collected during the week.

Five minutes later the phone rang. “Hey, teach, how's it going?” a cheerful voice rang in her ear.

“Carmen, how nice to hear from you. What's up?”

“I'd like to invite you out to dinner tonight.”

“At your house?”

“No. I said ‘out.' That's not ‘out' to me. Let's go somewhere fun on the River Walk.”

Nicole smiled. Considerate Carmen, knowing that her first day back at school would be hard on her and how much she loved the River Walk. “That sounds great. But were you thinking of including Shelley and Jill? If so, we can only have one drink each, watch our language, and act mature.”

“But we want to have fun, so of
course
we're not taking the girls. I thought Shelley could spend the night with Jill. She'd like that, wouldn't she?”

“She'd love it! Jill's just two months away from being a bona fide teenager.”

“Then why don't you drop her by the house around six? Bobby will baby-sit. He even volunteered to drive each of them to school in the morning.”

“But Shelley's school is so far out of his way.”

“He says he doesn't mind. You can meet me at the store.”

“It's a date.”

“My,
you
seem to be recovering from tragedy easily.”

Nicole put down the receiver as she watched Avis Simon-Smith lounge in the doorway. “Hello, Avis. As for my recovery, it may not be as easy as it looks, but I'm making progress.”

“
And
dates,” Avis said coyly.

“Only with my best friend of almost thirty years.” Avis kept looking at her, smirking maddeningly. Nicole had never been around anyone who made her so edgy, but she always tried to be friendly to the woman who seemed to be a fixture in the department. “Thank you for taking over my class in my absence.”

“That's me, the department workhorse.”

“I'm sorry you were so overworked,” Nicole said mildly. “Would you care for a cup of coffee?”

“Is that all I get for my week of hardship?”

Nicole stared at her long, homely face. “I had intended to send you flowers—”

“
Flowers!
” Avis nearly shrieked, sounding as if Nicole had said “snakes.” “God, do you want people to think we're
lesbians
?”

Nicole gaped before Avis broke into loud, braying laughter. “Oh, put your eyes back in your head. It was a joke. Lord, no one around here would ever think
you
were a lesbian with all the attention you pay to the young male students.”

“I beg your pardon?” Nicole managed.

“Oh, forget it. No sense of humor. That's what's wrong with most of the people in this department.”

Two of these humorless people walked by and glanced at Avis, but no one stopped. I don't blame you, Nicole thought. I wouldn't want to get involved in this, either.

“Yes,” Avis said abruptly.

“What?”

Avis sighed. “You asked if I wanted coffee.
Yes
.”

“Fine. Do you take cream or sugar?”

“Both. I've never had to worry about keeping this girlish figure.”

“You're lucky.”

“Lucky? Do you think I enjoy going through life looking like an anorectic?”

“You don't look like an anorectic,” Nicole said, stirring Coffee-mate into the cup and wishing desperately the woman would leave.

“Nice try. That must be why people in the department like you so much. You're always trying to be sweet. A regular ray of sunshine.”

Nicole handed Avis a cup and sat down behind her desk. “My mother would certainly disagree with you.”

“I guess you save your charm for your career.” Avis took a sip of coffee and wrinkled her sharp nose. “Too weak.”

Nicole automatically started to say “I'm sorry,” then stopped. If the coffee hadn't been too weak, it would have been too strong or too sweet. Avis always found something wrong.

“As I was saying,” Avis continued, ignoring Nicole's silence, “you are the department sweetheart. Our beautiful young princess.”

“Avis, I hope you're teasing,” Nicole said evenly. “Otherwise, I'm going to think you're off your rocker.”

“Oh-ho!” Avis crowed. “A little venom bubbles to the surface.”

“Did you find that remark venomous? I thought I was teasing, just like you were.”

Avis set down her cup, sloshing coffee on Nicole's desk. “But I haven't been teasing.”

“Then you've gotten some wrong ideas somewhere. I'm certainly not the department princess. It sounds ridiculous for you to even make such a statement.”

Avis stood abruptly. “I have to go. I know you're starting Melville today. I did an
excellent
job with the Hawthorne section. I hope you don't make a mess of the one on Melville.”

“I'll try to maintain your magnificent standards,” Nicole muttered dryly.

A moment later, while Nicole wiped up the coffee Avis had spilled, Nancy Silver stepped in. “Glad to see you're back.”

“Thanks.”

“Nicole, I couldn't help overhearing Avis.” She stepped into the office, her dark hair shining under the light. “She's not well, you know.”

Nicole looked up, thinking of Kay. “You mean she's ill?”

“Not physically. But she's taken a lot of blows lately.”

“Tell me about it,” Nicole said bitterly. “I know how it feels.”

“But it's different for you. You're still young and beautiful and you have a child. Avis is all alone. No husband. No children. She had dreams of becoming a great scholar, but after a twenty-five-year career, she's had only one book published over twenty years ago and just three articles since then. The book she's been working on for five years has been rejected time after time.”