ToServeAndProtect (13 page)

Dustin slid his hands into his front pockets. “Is
there more to this than what you’re telling me?”

“No.” She clicked a few keys.

“What about the men at the funeral? We need to know
what they want. We can’t fight what we don’t know.”

“All they said was that they were acquaintances of
Elliot’s. I’d never seen them before.”

“I ran the license plate. The car was rented by Robert
Marino.” Tyson was currently trying to find out more on the man and the other
two with him.

“I don’t know who he is. I can’t help you.”

Dustin sighed and leaned against the wall. “It’s time
to put all our cards on the table if we’re going to work together.”

“I agree.”

“Then when do you want to talk about Scott?”

“How did you…I don’t want to talk about him. He’s none
of your business.”

“The D.A. thinks he is.” Dustin growled and ran his
fingers through his hair. “I’m getting another beer.”

Finding a way to get her to open up was proving
difficult. She had to trust him. He had his fucking career at risk. Getting
involved was beyond stupid, but he couldn’t seem to change course.

He returned with another stout for her as well. She
hesitated before taking the bottle from him.

“Think I’m trying to get you drunk?”

“Alcohol tends to loosen one’s lips,” she whispered.

Dustin watched her lips and talking was the last thing
he wanted to do. Maybe if he plundered her luscious mouth, tasted the heat of
her kiss, he could burn through her resistance. He wanted to crack her reserve
and see if there was as much fire in her body as danced in her eyes.

“I don’t know what you want from me. As hard as it is
for you to believe I knew nothing of his life, it’s true. We lived in the same
house, yet hardly ever saw each other. Now and again, we’d watch television. We
never talked. We sat in silence. I need your help to find out what my father
was doing. Was he the source of the trouble or did he fall victim to it?”

“I’m committed to finding out what happened to your
father. I’m using every tool at my disposal to keep you safe.”

“I don’t want to be here alone.”

“You aren’t. I’m here.”

“But what happens if whoever killed Elliot comes
back?”

“We’ll be ready.” Dustin sat in front of the computer
again. “This may take a while. I need to locate the configuration file for the
e-mail accounts and retrieve the passwords.”

“Then I’ll leave you to work.”

The ticking sound of the second hand on the
grandfather clock mingled with the tapping of computer keys. Like a machine,
Dustin focused on his task. Any little clue he could find could help. Anything
to shift suspicion off her.

McKenna left him alone. Hours passed and dusk settled
outside the window. She changed into mint green lounging pajamas. The silky
material hung loosely from her shoulders. She peeked in on Dustin. He continued
to make notes on a yellow legal pad.

Her stomach growled. Making him dinner was the least
she could do. In the kitchen, she opened the fridge, but the expired milk
smelled and the tinfoil-covered casserole dishes were starting to separate into
part grease and part unrecognizable mush.

She went back to the office and poked her head inside.
“I’m hungry. Are you?”

“I could eat. I’m not finished with the computer.” He
glanced up from the screen and his eyes locked on her. “So I’m not going home.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Do you want to go out?”

“I’d rather stay in.” Her heart pounded under his
unwavering stare. The plan had been to use whatever means necessary to keep him
close—for self protection and to discover the truth. Now, knowing how she
responded to him, perhaps it was too dangerous. “Do you think it’s wise, becoming
too personally involved?”

“Probably not,” he said, and then smiled. “But that
doesn’t imply I’m working an angle to get you in bed.”

“What if I am?”

Dustin laughed. “I’d say go with it. Sounds like a
good plan.”

She didn’t laugh at his amused expression.

“Come on, I’m making progress on the computer. I don’t
want to stop. Do you want to order a pizza?”

“Not really.” She sighed. “I’ll get dressed and we can
go out.”

He put his hand on her arm. “Don’t. Order something
and I’ll pick it up.”

That hand slid down her arm, fingering the silky
material of her pajamas. “If you want to keep working, you shouldn’t touch me
like this,” she whispered.

“I know.” He let his hand drop. He grabbed his keys
off the desk. “I’m going to be at it for a while.” He hitched a thumb
indicating the computer. “Would you mind if I parked the truck in the garage
when I get back?” He jingled the keys in his palm.

“Why?”

“You have nosy neighbors. You were right. I’m walking
a fine line. The department has policies. I don’t want anyone to get the wrong
idea.”

“Finding your car in my garage is going to look much
worse.”

“I trust my instincts. Those instincts tell me to stay
close to you if we’re going to solve this murder. Can I park in the garage?”

“I’ll get Elliot’s clicker.” She went to the kitchen
and returned a moment later. “His space is empty. I sold his car today.” He
raised an eyebrow. “It’s complicated.”

“You can tell me about that and Scott over dinner. How
about Italian?”

“Sounds good.” She leaned against the wall. “How do
you know about Scott?”

“This is a murder investigation. Every detail is
scrutinized. McKenna—” When he said her name, he sounded exasperated. “This
investigation isn’t going to go away. Whoever took out Elliot may return. You
can’t hide from them or me. Let’s solve this puzzle, clear your name, and get
you your life back.”

She nodded.

“I’ll be back in a few.” Dustin headed out the front
door. A moment later, the truck roared from the curb, and the sound gradually
faded as he drove away.

* * * * *

“Where’s your partner?” Captain Baird came out of his
office.

“Working I’m sure.” Tyson glanced at the captain. He
had his keys in his hand. “Before you head out look at this.” Tyson slid his
chair over, giving Captain Baird a better view of the computer monitor on his
desk. “Mrs. Westerberg lives across the street from the Porter’s. She swears
she saw a dark blue or black sedan in the driveway when she let her poodle out
at nine. She couldn’t identify the make or model.”

“Bring her in. Have her give a description.” If the
neighbor could remember the shape of the taillights, where they were located on
the rear of the vehicle, and hopefully a few specifics about the contours of
the car, was it boxy, or curved, they could narrow the field of possibilities.
“What color car did you say the friend drove?”

“Black Hyundai.”

Captain Baird made a clicking sound with the side of
his mouth. “I think you just got a break in the case.”

“I also found some information on the Marino Family.
They have businesses in San Francisco and Long Beach. Shipping, paper
manufacturing, a handful of other small business. For years they’ve been under
suspicion for illegal activities. There’s never been enough evidence to act on
by the local police departments. FBI is involved. What I can’t find is a
correlation between Dr. Porter and his research and the Marino Family
businesses.”

“Keep at it. Check with your partner. See what he’s
found out. And tell him to check in once in a while.”

* * * * *

McKenna took a bottle of wine from Elliot’s reserve.
Deep reds were supposed to go nicely with Italian cuisine. The table was set,
and Dustin transferred their meals from Styrofoam onto stoneware and set them
on the table. McKenna set a serving bowl on the counter for the salad.

“Excuse me,” she said as she squeezed between the
island and Dustin. He went to the wall and dimmed the chandelier over the
table.

McKenna inhaled sharply. The last thing they needed
was mood lighting for an intimate dinner. Unless of course, she was trying to
get the detective into bed. Getting close to him was beginning to feel a lot
less like self-protection—and more like lust.

Dustin held the chair for her to sit and then sat
across from her. Lifting his glass to toast, he said, “To finding the truth.”

Emotion churned in her stomach. Their time together
represented more than finding out what happened to Elliot. McKenna lifted her
glass to him. In Dustin, she had an ally in this mess. “To believing the
truth.” They both drank.

Dustin set his glass down and picked up his fork.
“Okay, so talk. Why’d you sell the car?” He took a bite of salad.

McKenna swallowed, then sighed. “I don’t want to play
games anymore. Albert said cops would say anything to get a suspect to open
up.” She glanced at him over another fork-full of chicken. “You don’t have to
say anything tonight, Dustin. While you were gone I decided to tell you
everything.” She took another drink to push the food down her tightened throat.
Hopefully dinner would settle her stomach. Moreover, she hoped it stayed down
because her nerves were tangled.

“First, I don’t have an alibi. I’m sorry I lied. Dawn
can be convincing. Not that I have much of an excuse, but I have reservations
about trusting the police—for what I think are good reasons—and Dawn was trying
to help.” McKenna took another sip of wine and tried to swallow her
nervousness. “Those reasons don’t really matter now.”

“Maybe we should start from the beginning. I need the
whole picture of you, your family, and as much as you can tell me of Elliot.”

She nodded. “I’ll tell you everything, but first,
Elliot’s bankrupt. He liquidated his funds over the last six months. Company
stock, retirement accounts, savings, and checking, it’s all gone. He’d had the
same accountant for twenty years. I found out Elliot fired him about six months
ago. Albert claims he didn’t know. I believe him.” She set her fork on the
table. “Thankfully he didn’t take out a mortgage on the house.”

“Any mortgage lender would’ve checked his financial
record.”

She agreed. They continued to eat their meal. “I hope
I won’t have to sell the house. No job, and no death benefits until the
investigation clears me, means I don’t have income. Selling the car put ten
thousand in the bank. You know as well as I do that if I need to hire a defense
attorney, it won’t last. It’s difficult to comprehend the amount of money
that’s gone.” She finished her glass of wine.

Dustin glanced around the room. “I know
pharmaceuticals are lucrative and this house is incredible.”

“Elliot was a genius. What in the world was he
involved in?” She stood from the table and grabbed the wine from the counter.
“Do you want a refill or would you prefer a cup of coffee?”

“Coffee. I spoke with Detective Jones on my cell when
I went to get dinner. The three men from the funeral are big players out of Long Beach. Seriously bad players. Problem is they don’t have anything to do with
pharmaceuticals. We need to find out what links them to Elliot. Men like the
Marino’s can be very persuasive.”

Dustin carried their plates to the sink and turned on
the tap. “I still want to hear about Scott.” They stood hip to hip. Dustin
rinsed the dishes and McKenna put them into the dishwasher.

“You did loosen my lips with alcohol.” She smiled as
the deliciously dizzying effects of good wine mingled with the satisfaction of
a good meal. “Scott was my high school sweetheart, but we’d been friends since
kindergarten.”

McKenna closed her eyes and remembered the
freckle-faced kid who sat with her at lunch and told her disgusting jokes about
diaper rashes and lawnmowers. ‘What is red, black, white, and smells?’ he’d
ask. When she could only stare at him with a dumb look on her face, he would
laugh and say, ‘A skunk ran over by a lawnmower.’ “We were children and then we
grew up.” She closed the dishwasher and took two coffee cups out of the
cupboard.

Dustin dried his hands on a towel hanging over the
stove handle. “I know the story from newspapers and police reports. Now I want
you to tell me what really happened.” He followed her to the table with his cup
of coffee.

“I thought we were in love. All our friends expected
us to get married after high school.” She sipped her coffee. “I did, too.” She
took a deep breath. “I didn’t know he had other plans. He wanted to go away to
college. I would’ve gone with him, but that wasn’t the real problem. His
parents disapproved of me, and he didn’t want to disappoint them.”

Tears trailed down her cheeks. “You can imagine his
horror when I told Scott I was pregnant.” She didn’t see Dustin move, but
suddenly he was sitting in the chair next to her. “He said he couldn’t tell his
parents, that he wouldn’t destroy their hopes for him. We were in his father’s
study. He was angry.
I
was angry so I left him alone for a minute.” She
sniffed. “When I came back he had a gun. We struggled. Even now, I can still
hear the thunderous pop of the gun going off in my head.” In her mind she
relived those moments. “My hands were on the gun.” She looked down and once
again her fingers shook. “I hit the wall from the recoil, but it had been his
finger on the trigger.”