Tonight You're Mine (23 page)

Aline frowned. “You're right. What's your second point?”

“Who was the anonymous informant? To my knowledge, no one knows. They had no idea about the credibility of this person. To me the whole thing had the feel of a setup, but Judge Hagan issued a search warrant anyway. I think the guy was getting senile.”

“And your third point?”

“The gun. The serial number had been filed out, but they can usually bring that back with nitric-acid etching.”

“And they didn't?”

“They said they tried, but the filing was too deep. If it had been drilled, I would have believed them. But filed? I was never convinced they tried hard enough to bring the number back. That serial number could have told us a lot.”

“But what if Dominic just bought the gun from someone on the street?”

“That's possible. But as far as his defense went, at the very least, bringing back the serial number could have shown it wasn't registered to anyone in the Dominic family. At the best, it could have been traced to someone connected with Magaro and Zand. Hell, Aline, it was only because of the stuff found at Dominic's that everyone thought their murders were related to what happened to Nicole Sloan. But those guys were slime. You can bet she wasn't the only girl they'd raped, maybe even killed, not to mention all the other dirty stuff the guys in the band were into.”

“All of them?”

“Oh, I don't think the others were as bad as Magaro and Zand, but they weren't choirboys. Anyway, maybe their murders had nothing to do with Nicole Sloan.”

“But Dominic ran. Why would he do that if he were innocent?” Aline asked.

Cy leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. “Because the system doesn't always work. Sometimes innocent people get convicted. I'm sure Dominic knew that. Now can I have my dinner?”

“On one condition,” Aline said firmly. “You watch out for that girl, Cy.”

“I think Ray's doing his best to make that his job,” Cy had said dryly. “Besides, she doesn't even like me.”

“That's because you played your hard-nosed, crusty cop routine with her. But I'm not kidding. You look out for her.”

“I will,” Cy muttered now, a ringing phone bringing him out of the remembered conversation to the squad room. He leaned forward to pick up the phone. “Don't you worry, Aline, I will.”

5

Nicole was exhausted after her first class. She felt as if she hadn't slept for a week, and the weekend seemed like a shimmering oasis she would never reach. She had an hour break between classes, and when she returned to her office, she put on a pot of coffee, mocha-flavored to wash out the taste of the abominable cup she'd had at breakfast. As the delicious smell of gourmet coffee began to fill the office, she downed two aspirin, sat down at her desk, and laid her head on her folded arms. She was almost asleep when the phone rang.

“Boy, I
do
need that coffee,” she mumbled as she picked up the receiver and said in a thick voice, “Chandler.”

“Good morning, Chandler,” Carmen laughed. “You sound full of vim and vigor.”

“I'm dead on my feet.”

“You didn't sleep well at the motel?”

“No.” Nicole stood and stretched the phone cord to the table where the coffeepot sat. She poured a full mug. “Someone who sounded like Luis Magaro called last night.”

“Magaro?”

“Yes. He said he hadn't forgotten what I'd done to him and Zand. He threatened Shelley and me.” She sat back down at the desk. “Carmen, are you still there?”

“Yes.” Carmen paused. “Nicole, you do remember that Magaro is dead, don't you?” she asked carefully.

Nicole almost choked on her first sip of coffee. “Carmen, of
course
I know he's dead.”

“But you think he called you.”

“I didn't say
Magaro
called. I said someone who sounded like him called.”

“Have you told the police?”

“Yes. Ray's partner. Ray's out today. It seems he decided to watch my room for a while last night. His partner, Sergeant Waters, said Ray saw something suspicious, got out of his car to check it out, and someone hit him on the head. He has a mild concussion.”

“How awful! Did Ray see who did it?”

“I haven't spoken with him, but I got the impression from Waters he didn't know.”

“Or Waters isn't telling.”

“Maybe. At least Shelley and I get to go home tonight. I guess it's a mixed blessing. I can imagine what the place looks like after the police finished with it. Then there's all that blood in the hall…”

“Are you afraid to go back there alone?”

“No,” she lied.

“If you change your mind, I'll spend the evening with you. You just call.”

“I will,” Nicole said, knowing she wouldn't. All Carmen needed was abuse from Bobby for spending more time with her.

After she hung up, she remembered the things Shelley said Bobby had yelled at Carmen—that he'd only married her because of “the kid.” Bobby and Carmen had married just a month after Zand's and Magaro's deaths. Nicole had been unable to attend the modest wedding because she was recovering from the first of her plastic surgeries, but she understood the haste. Within two months, Carmen's pregnancy became visible. Four months later, Robert Vega, Jr., was born. In less than three months Bobby Junior died of crib death.

Although Nicole had always known Carmen was pregnant when she married, she never knew Bobby resented marrying her. They'd dated for two years. Carmen told her they'd always planned on marriage. But maybe marriage was only on Carmen's mind. After all, Nicole had heard the rumors of Bobby's indulgence in drugs and groupies while he was with The Zanti Misfits. At the time of the Vegas' wedding, though, The Zanti Misfits were nonexistent. The band died with Ritchie Zand.

“You're not looking up to par today.” Nicole glanced up and saw with a silent groan Avis Simon-Smith standing in her doorway regarding her with her large, dark, baggy eyes. “Being a bachelor girl again getting to you? Too many late nights?”

“Good morning, Avis,” Nicole said evenly. “And I have lost a lot of sleep lately, but unfortunately it hasn't been because of romance.”

“Oh, that's right,” Avis said, snapping her fingers as if she'd just remembered. “You had a couple of murders at your place. I must say, Nicole, you do lead an exciting life.”

“That depends on your definition of exciting. Would you like to come in and have a cup of coffee?” she asked reluctantly.

Avis raised her head and sniffed loudly. She wore huge, dangling earrings that suddenly reminded Nicole of floppy ears, and she had an abrupt mental picture of Avis as a bloodhound. Next she'll throw back her head and howl, she thought and promptly burst into badly concealed giggles.

Avis's head jerked toward her. “What's so funny?”

“Nothing,” Nicole gasped, unable to get a grip on herself as the huge earrings swung an inch above Avis's shoulders. “Nothing, really.”

“You're laughing at me, aren't you?” Avis demanded.

“No, honestly, I just thought of something—” At that moment Avis's large nostrils flared and she stepped forward. Nicole had never noticed how big and wide the woman's feet were, completely out of proportion with her body. Big paws for running through the woods after 'possums, Nicole thought, and lost the last of her control. She tried with all her will to stop the laughter, but it bubbled forth, loud, uncontainable, causing her to choke and tears to stream from her eyes.

“You are
such
a bitch!” Avis hissed, then vanished.

Oh, God, oh, no, Nicole thought, full of remorse although she was still laughing uproariously. Was she losing her mind? She didn't like Avis, but she knew the woman was troubled and suffered from a battered ego. The last thing she needed was to be laughed at, and Nicole would
never
have intentionally laughed in her face—no matter how outrageous her behavior—if she'd been herself. “But I'm not myself,” she muttered, reaching for a tissue. “I'm exhausted, I'm baffled, and I'm terrified, both for myself and Shelley.”

She wiped away the last of her tears and her laughter stopped as abruptly as it had begun. She would apologize to Avis. She would explain to her the strain she'd been under. Not in detail, of course, but enough so that Avis would understand. “And maybe she'll forgive me,” she said aloud.

But Avis didn't seem like the forgiving type. Nicole sighed and rubbed her temples, her head beginning to pound, when the phone rang. She picked it up and said hello. “Is this Professor Nicole Chandler?” a chirpy voice asked.

“Yes.”

“This is Mindy down at Dr. Linden's office.”

Nicole frowned. “Who?”

“Mindy. Dr. Linden's receptionist.”

“I don't know a Dr. Linden.”

“You don't? Well, I don't understand that. Please don't tell me you don't know a Jesse Chandler.”

“Jesse?” Nicole repeated blankly.

“About twenty-five pounds, most of which is unruly black hair, slightly crippled, a bark that could shatter your eardrums, under the impression he's a Rottweiler?”

“
You
have Jesse?”

“Yes, ma'am. He was brought in yesterday morning, and we were told to call your office and remind you to pick him up today. He had a checkup, a penicillin shot for a bad scratch on his side, and a bath, which he didn't like one bit. We're open until seven this evening, Professor Chandler.”

“You say he was brought in?” Nicole asked, dumbfounded. “Who brought him in?”

“Just a minute. I'll check the record.” Mindy was beginning to sound exasperated with Nicole's ignorance of the situation. “Here it is. Jesse Chandler. Brought in yesterday morning with a request for checkup, bath, medical attention, and boarding until today, when you were to be called.”

“Mindy,
who
brought Jesse in?” Nicole persisted.

She heard Mindy's frustrated sigh. “The dog was brought in by your friend Mr. George Gershwin.”

1

Nicole had hoped to get home a bit early and do a little scrubbing on that blood in the hall before picking up Shelley, but the news about Jesse couldn't wait. She drove directly to the school and went to Shelley's classroom. When she looked through the narrow window in the classroom door and saw Shelley's head drooping, her eyes full of sadness and worry, she knew she couldn't wait another thirty-five minutes until class ended. She opened the door and told the teacher Shelley must come with her now. Apparently the teacher had read about the murders because her eyes became large and she said simply, “Of course. Shelley, go along with your mother immediately.”

Shelley, too, looked frightened until they got outside the door. “Mommy, what is it?” she said, her voice quavering. “Did the dead man call again? Did someone else get murdered?”

“No one got murdered, and I've told you no dead man called. This is
good
news.” She smiled broadly. “I know where Jesse is.”

Shelley's mouth dropped. “Really and truly?” Nicole nodded. “He's all right?”

“He's
fine
. He just wants to come home. I'm sorry to pull you out of class, but—”

“Come on!” Shelley called joyfully, running down the hall. “We've got to get him!”

When they arrived at Dr. Linden's office, the waiting room was crowded. Shelley marched up to the desk and said, “We're here for Jesse Chandler.”

Mindy, pert, pretty, and not over twenty-one, smiled at her. “Are you Jesse's mommy?”

“Yes, I am. Has he been asking for me?”

“Constantly,” Mindy said with a straight face. “Do you have a leash?”

Shelley held up the leash they always kept in the car. Mindy took the leash and in a few moments returned with Jesse. He promptly pulled from her grip and ran to Shelley, yipping until Nicole thought her eardrums would burst.

A few moments later an older, graying man in a white lab coat walked out. “What's all the commotion?” he asked.

“Jesse is a little carried away with himself,” Mindy told him.

The veterinarian smiled at Shelley. “Looks like he's glad to see you.”

Shelley beamed. “Why don't you take him out to the car, honey?” Nicole said loudly over Jesse's barking. “I'll settle the bill.”

Immediately after Shelley had dragged Jesse, still yapping shrilly, out the door, the doctor asked, “Mrs. Chandler, did Jesse escape or do you let him run loose?”

“I
never
let him run loose. My house was broken into the other night while I was out. Whoever did it let Jesse out.”

“I see.” She noticed the doctor frowning slightly. Then his eyes met hers, and she knew he'd finally connected the name Chandler with the murders. No wonder. The story, along with her picture, had been splashed all over the news. “Do you know how Jesse was found?”

Nicole shook her head. “I didn't even know he was here until Mindy called my office about an hour ago.”

“It seems he'd gotten his collar caught on a fence he was trying to slide under. He was frantic and desperately thirsty when he was brought in, and he had a nasty scratch on his side, but otherwise he was unhurt. If he hadn't been found for a couple of days, though, he would have died of thirst or strangulation.”

“Oh, thank goodness he
was
found.”

“Mr. Gershwin seemed awfully worried about him,” Mindy chimed in.

“Can you tell me what this man looked like?”

“Mr. Gershwin?” Mindy asked. Every time she said the name, Nicole wanted to scream. Obviously Mindy had no knowledge of classical music. She might as well have been saying Smith or Jones. “He was very handsome. Tall, dark-haired. Long hair pulled back in a ponytail.
Beautiful
hazel eyes.” Mindy had a dreamy look on her face. She'd clearly been quite taken with “Mr. George Gershwin.” “Don't you know him? He said he was a friend.”

“I'm not sure,” Nicole said vaguely.

“Well, he seemed to know you. Even your department at the university, although I had to get your office number from a secretary. He was very emphatic about me calling you at a specific time. He said you would be out of class then.”

“Oh,” Nicole said weakly, thinking how well he knew her schedule. “Well, I'm certainly lucky that someone found Jesse. He means the world to my daughter. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” Dr. Linden said. “Mr.
Gershwin
paid the bill ahead of time.” Although Mindy didn't recognize the name, the veterinarian did. “In fact, he has change coming since we didn't have to do any major repair work on Jesse. Of course there's that leg. It should have been set right after it was broken.”

“He was a stray,” Nicole explained. “When I found him, it had been broken for a few days and was already healing. The veterinarian back in Ohio said it was best left alone.”

“I disagree, although he seems to get around just fine.”

Mindy handed Nicole a fifty-dollar bill. “This is Mr. Gershwin's change.” She smiled brilliantly. “And please tell him that if he has any pets, we'd be happy to have them as patients anytime, wouldn't we, Doctor?”

“I should say so.” He winked at Nicole. “Good-bye, Mrs. Chandler. I'm glad everything worked out so well for Jesse. And please say hello to Mr. Gershwin. I admire his music tremendously.”

“Does he play in a band?” Mindy asked the veterinarian as Nicole walked from the office, smiling.

2

When they got home, Jesse jumped out of the car happily, dragging his young mistress behind him. Nicole was glad to see that all the yellow crime-scene tape had been taken down, although she noticed another patrol car was posted outside. Please let this young man have better luck than the last one, she thought.

Shelley asked, “Mommy, will Jesse have to stay in all night?”

“No. No damage was done to the gate and we can get a new padlock tomorrow. Let's let him out to check on all his buried treasures, although I'm pretty sure they're safe.”

“Great!”

Before Nicole put her key in the front-door lock, she said, “Shelley, I'm afraid the inside of the house is pretty much of a mess.”

“That's okay,” Shelley said brightly. “I've seen it messy before.”

“It's not just messy, honey. One of the men got hurt in here. There's blood on the carpet.”

Shelley's smile faded. “A lot of blood?”

“I'm afraid so.”

Shelley was quiet for a moment while Nicole watched her silently bracing herself. “Well, I guess it'll have to be okay,” she said finally. “I'm not scared.”

But when Nicole swung open the door, she saw an immaculate living room and a pristine carpet, although a new cream, peach, and blue scatter rug lay in the hall.

“I
know
the police didn't leave the place like this,” she said in awe.

At that moment, a truck pulled up in front of the house. A young man emerged and walked toward her, glancing at a piece of paper. “Are you Mrs. Chandler?”

“Yes,” she said tentatively over Jesse's barking.

“I'm here to install your new locks. Front, side, back doors, and a padlock for the gate.”

“I didn't order new locks.”

The young man looked at his work order again. “A Sergeant Raymond DeSoto did, ma'am. He said you might want to check things out.” He handed her the work order. “His phone number's on there. I'll wait outside.” He looked down at Jesse. “Hey there, little poochie.”

Jesse let out a tremendous bark and sneezed all over the young man's shoes. “Sorry,” Shelley said. “He doesn't like to be called ‘poochie.' ”

The young man laughed, ignoring his messy footwear. “No sweat. I don't blame him. So what do you like? Duke? King?
Killer
?”

The young man was still joking with Shelley and Jesse as Nicole went inside and dialed what she assumed was Ray's home phone number. When he answered, she asked without preamble, “Are you all right? Sergeant Waters told me you were hurt.”

“Well, hello, Mrs. Chandler, lovely to talk with you, too. I'm fine, thank you.”

“I'm sorry to be so abrupt,” Nicole said. “I've been worried. What happened?”

“I'll tell you all about it later. Is the guy with the locks there?”

“Yes. I assume you
did
order them?”

“Yes. Isn't that all right?”

“It's wonderful. I've been so busy today I forgot.”

“I didn't mean to be presumptuous, but I wanted the locks changed before you spent a night in that house.”

“Thank you, Ray,” she said warmly. “I don't suppose I also have you to thank for my spotless house, too.”

“Yes, indeed. I spent the whole day on my hands and knees, scrubbing and polishing.”

“Ray, you didn't!”

He laughed. “No. I'm afraid I'm not up to that. I called a cleaning service. I hope they did a good job.”

“Ray, that was so thoughtful! And they did an excellent job. The place has never looked this good. I don't know how to thank you.”

Ray paused. “When this is all over, you can go on a real date with me.”

Nicole suddenly felt sixteen and tongue-tied, but in a pleasant way. “I think I could manage that,” she said, wishing she'd come up with something more graceful. “You're taking good care of us, Ray.”

“I must warn you, my motives aren't entirely altruistic.”

She smiled. “Good. By the way, I have another piece of good news—Jesse has been found.”

“No kidding! Where was he?”

“At a veterinarian's. When he was found, his collar was caught on a fence.” She took a deep breath. “Ray, the man who brought him in called himself George Gershwin.”

“Oh, no,” Ray moaned.

“Yes. The receptionist wasn't familiar with the name, but she described him. It was Paul. And there's something else. Jordan was at the motel room last night.”

“Jordan?”

“The Doberman.”

“Oh, right, I forgot the dog's name. I saw her outside your motel room. Rather, I saw a dog, just sitting there. I thought it was a person at first. That's what made me get out of my car.”

“And that's when you were struck.”

“Yes.”

“I'm so sorry.” She hesitated. “You might as well know the dog spent the night with Shelley and me.”

“What!”

“Yes. I got a call—”

“Waters already told me about it.”

“So, after the call there was a scratching at the door. Shelley thought it was Jesse. She had the door open before I could stop her. It was Jordan.”

“And Dominic?”

“There was no sign of him. Just the dog. It was as if she'd been sent there to guard us.”

“Dominic is the one who hit me on the head when I got out of the car.”

Nicole hesitated. “Are you sure? Did you see him?”

“No. But who else would it have been?”

“Maybe the man who called me pretending to be Magaro.”

“You don't think that was Dominic?”

Nicole sighed. “I don't
want
to believe it was Paul.”

“After all that's happened? I know he was there last night, Nicole. His dog was, and I have a feeling those two are inseparable.”

Nicole caught herself doodling outlines of dogs on a notepad and stopped herself. “I know it should make sense, but it just doesn't. Especially now.”

“Especially now?”

“He found Jesse and took him to a veterinarian, Ray. He made sure the dog was treated and Shelley got him back. She's overjoyed.”

“Are you
sure
the person who took Jesse to the vet was Dominic? Couldn't it have been that Perez guy?”

“I don't think so. Dr. Linden's receptionist said he had hazel eyes. Miguel's are brown.”

“Hazel, brown, they're so close. Nicole, do you know how notoriously bad eyewitnesses are at describing what they've just seen?”

“Yes, but I believe Mindy was describing Paul,” she maintained stubbornly. She paused. “Ray, I just can't believe a man who would go to so much trouble to save my little girl's dog would call me and pretend to be Luis Magaro, a man who's lived in my nightmares for years.”

A short silence followed. “Nicole, did you ever describe Magaro to Dominic? I mean his voice, the words he used that night?”

“Yes.”

“That's what I thought. Who else knows?”

She thought. “Roger. And Carmen. And if Carmen knows, so does Bobby.”

“Roger is a possibility, but my money's on Dominic. And I'm not sure it was Dominic who took Jesse to the vet. You are. Let's say you're right. So what? Dominic is unbalanced. He's a
killer
.”

“He didn't kill you.”

“Do you think your husband killed Izzy Dooley?”

“Of course not. I don't believe he paid Izzy to kill me, either.”

“Then who did? Miguel Perez?”

She began doodling again. “That's almost as hard to imagine.”

“Maybe your neighbor, Newton Wingate.”

She rolled her eyes. “This isn't funny.”

“You're damned right it isn't funny. You're getting all soft because you think Paul Dominic found Jesse and took him to the vet. You're pointing out that if he attacked me in the parking lot last night, he didn't kill me. Wonderful. But think about this. If he killed Izzy Dooley, and he is the most likely suspect, he also killed that innocent young patrolman, Nicole—put a gun to his head and shot him in cold blood, just to protect his identity.
That
is what makes Dominic so damned dangerous. He's a murderer and he's totally unpredictable.”

3

They had unpacked their clothes, the new locks were installed, including the new fence padlock, and Jesse had checked all his buried treasures when a car tore into the driveway, brakes screaming as it halted two inches from the garage door. Roger emerged from the Ford Explorer, but before he could reach the front door, Nicole ran outside to meet him.