The rest of Saturday evening passed without incident. The broken window in the gift shop was boarded up with a thick sheet of plywood when Cait returned. After the guests left, the theaters were locked and alarmed for the night. Two cruisers patrolled the road below the estate. RT and Cait were alone in the kitchen with Niki.
Awkwardness overcame Cait after RT’s long absence. She grabbed a towel and wiped the granite counters until he took the towel from her. He took her hand and led her into the front room. He switched on the small stained glass lamp on the grand piano, pulled out the bench, and drew her down beside him.
RT flexed his fingers and struck a chord. “Music is therapeutic, not just for the heart but for the whole being. Relax and let it work its magic.”
She tried, until he segued into “Wind Beneath My Wings.” The tune had drawn Cait and RT into their short affair, and she’d never be able to forget it or him. Sitting next to him now, even though it had been only a month since he’d been called for another assignment, the thin thread that held her feelings in check unraveled.
Caught up in her emotional turmoil, she’d been unaware RT had stopped playing until he leaned over and kissed her on the neck and then on the lips. His kisses left no doubt how much he wanted her, awakening Cait’s body to a high pitch of desire.
“Let’s get comfortable.” He pulled her up, switched off the lamp, and drew her up the stairs.
When they were locked in the third-floor bedroom, RT slipped her blouse over her head, pulled her skirt down, and kicked it away. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. Lowering his head to kiss the valley between her breasts, he released her bra and caressed her skin. “I’ve thought about this every day since I left,” he said, his voice husky.
A small moan rose from her throat under the sweet seduction of his hands.
It took Cait a few seconds to recognize the noise she heard as Skype. Instead of going to the desk and her computer, she reached over and touched the indentation on the pillow where RT’s head had been and wished he hadn’t left at dawn to return to his trailer. She blinked at the kaleidoscope of colors streaming through the stained glass windows as she dragged herself out of bed and crossed the room. She tapped a key to activate her computer. “I’m here, Shep.”
“Sorry if I woke you, but there’s something you should know.”
Cait slipped into the chair and leaned close to the screen. “What is it?”
“It was Wally Dillon who requested that knife from the property room.”
“I never doubted it.”
“I read his police record. I think his mother put the wrong son up for adoption,” Shep said. “A delinquent at eight years old.” He held up a picture. “This is Wally Dillon.”
She studied the mug shot of a light-skinned black man, with a shaved head, and a hairline scar from beneath his left eye to his jaw.
“Recognize him?” Shep asked.
“No, but if I didn’t know better, I’d say he doesn’t look evil.”
Shep continued to hold the picture up to the screen. “Take a good look. Five-nine, one hundred sixty pounds, twenty-two years old. I’ll email you a copy. His mother doesn’t know where he is and hasn’t seen him for a couple of weeks. Not unusual, she said, because he sometimes disappears without telling her where he’s going. Consider him dangerous and armed. Was the guy hanging out by your car at the grocery store black?”
She flashed back to the incident. “African-American or Hispanic.”
“What about at the college? Did you get a look at the driver?”
“It happened too fast. I’ll make copies of his picture to hand out. This is the break we’ve been waiting for.” She hesitated. “It must be Wally with the AK-47.”
“Probably. The weapon’s not designed for accuracy, but it can sure lay down a storm of lead.” He removed the mug shot from the screen. “AK-47s are easy to get if you know where to look. He probably has connections in the Bay Area.”
Niki reached his paw up on Cait’s lap and whined.
Shep grinned. “You got a dog?”
Cait stroked Niki. “Yes, a beautiful chocolate lab named Niki.”
“Where’d you get him?”
“RT’s back,” she said. “His daughter, Mindy, wanted me to have a dog to keep me company and to protect me since I live alone. Niki is six months old, and trained.”
Shep leaned into the screen and wiggled his bushy eyebrows. “The SEAL? How long’s he going to hang around this time?”
“He said a couple of weeks.”
“Funny how he turns up every time there’s a crisis.”
“He stays in touch with Detective Rook, so he knew about my situation.”
“I’m happy for you, Cait, as long as he’s there for the right reason. I’ll send Wally’s mug shot. Be safe.”
The screen faded.
By the time Cait had showered and dressed, Niki was panting to go out. As soon as she opened the back door, he dashed off.
Kurt Mathews, her vineyard manager, rushed over before she closed the door. “Cait, we have a situation in the vineyard.”
She smiled. “I’m sure it’s something you can fix.”
“Not this time. You’ll need to call the police.”
She had a tingling feeling at the back of her neck as she followed Kurt around to the vineyard. He led her five rows down the driveway, stopped, and pointed down the row.
“What?” She took a couple of steps into the row of chardonnay vines and froze. Her cop senses screamed.
A body lay on the ground, head twisted at an odd angle. She went closer and gasped.
Chip Fallon was dead!