RT left at the crack of dawn. In the wee hours before she’d fallen asleep, he whispered, “See you later.” Now, sitting in the meditation garden with a cup of tea, her gun in a pocket of her jeans and Niki curled at her feet, Cait experienced emptiness not unlike how she’d felt when her parents’ plane went down in the sea five years ago. When had RT become so important in her life? How had he managed, in such a short time, to tear down the walls she’d erected after the split from her husband?
Her thoughts were broken by a thunderous noise from the front of the house. Niki jumped up, ran circles around her, and barked. “What the hell . . . ?” She set her cup on the bench and started running, almost colliding with Marcus as he came out the door.
“What was that? Sounded like loud explosions,” he said.
Cait reached for her gun as she ran and was followed by Marcus and Niki. “Damned if I know, but someone’s going to pay for disturbing the peace this early in the morning.”
Jim and June Hart staggered up the path across the driveway looking as if they’d just gotten out of bed.
Cait glared at the man in front of her, who wore a leather jacket, jeans, and helmet and who had arrived on a huge, noisy, red motorcycle. “Shut that thing off!” Her hand tightened on the gun she held by her leg. “What were you thinking?”
The man shut down the engine, pushed the kickstand down, and then stepped off and removed his helmet. “Morning, Cait. Sorry about the noise.”
Stunned, Cait stared at Calder Manning. Yesterday, he’d driven a white Toyota. Today, it was this loud, red monster of a bike.
“You probably woke half of Livermore with that thing,” she said. She couldn’t help but notice his ease of getting off the bike, as if he was used to riding one that big.
He grinned. “This thing is a Ducati sport bike. If you’d like, I’ll give you the thrill ride of your life, but first I suggest you leave your gun behind. Might cause unwanted attention.”
Taken aback at seeing Manning on a bike instead of driving his rental, she’d almost forgotten about the gun and tucked it away. “I’ve had enough thrills in my life. What happened to the rental you were driving yesterday?”
“Parked it at a friend’s house. Not as much fun as the bike.”
This guy is full of surprises. “You have friends in Livermore?”
He grinned. “I have friends all over the world, even in this valley.” He adjusted his helmet under his arm, then removed the gloves he’d been wearing and tucked them inside the helmet. “You know how I make my living.” He walked over to her.
I’d like to cram that boyish grin down his throat. But inwardly, she admired his good looks and confidence. The Harts subtly positioned themselves on either side of Manning, like a couple of sentries, but he ignored them, which irritated Cait.
Neither Manning nor the motorcycle intimidated Marcus. “I assume you have a watch and cell phone. Come back at ten when you were expected.”
Way to go, Marcus. Cait stepped in and introduced them. “Marcus Singer is my manager.”
Manning hooked his sunglasses on his jacket pocket and offered his hand to Marcus. When Marcus ignored him, Manning glanced at his watch. “It’s eight twenty-two. Not early for most people.” He looked at the Harts and smiled. “Do you work for Cait, too?”
“No,” Cait snapped. “They’re friends.”
“We’re here to help with the Shakespeare festival,” Jim said. “Are you going to take Wally Dillon back to Ohio before he ends up like his brother Hank?”
Cait suppressed a grin. Yeah, Jim, you tell him.
“That’s partly my intention, of course,” Manning said, “but we have to find him first, don’t we? Or have you already located him?”
“Not yet,” Cait said, “but we will. You got another reason for coming here?”
A fleeting frown crossed his face. “Only time will tell.”
His evasion irritated her. “What makes you think you can find Wally when the police can’t?”
“Because I know him.”
“I thought it was his brother, Hank, you knew. It was Hank your parents adopted, wasn’t it?”
He hesitated, then shrugged. “Know one Dillon, know the other.”
“Really? One’s a bank robber, the other a murderer. I guess you could say they chose the same destructive path.”
Manning smiled, showing his pearly whites. “The brothers were close, if not by age.”
“Four years isn’t much,” she said. “If I recall, Wally was eight and Hank twelve when he was adopted. Were you happy with the adoption?” She hoped to unhinge him with unanticipated questions—by the flicker of anger in his eyes, she knew she had.
Manning snapped, “Once a cop, always a cop.”
Cait hoped she’d never lose the training she’d received at the academy and on the job. “It’s in my blood. Was that knife you gave Hank a souvenir from Afghanistan? Wally tried to use it to break into my house.”
Manning laughed. “I don’t remember ever being interrogated under such pristine conditions or by such a beautiful woman.” The sun sparkled off the gold cross around his neck. “I’m usually holed up somewhere in Afghanistan or Iraq. Have we become enemies already, Cait?”
A wave of guilt swept over her, but she couldn’t help badgering Manning. RT would have had a quick comeback for him. She felt a vibration in her jeans pocket, pulled out her cell, and glanced at the screen. “Excuse me,” she said. “I have to take this.” She stepped away, but kept her eye on him. “Manning’s here. It’s been a rocky start,” she told Rook.
“He’s early,” Rook said.
“He is, and he didn’t call first.” She glanced at the bike, silently thinking it might be fun to ride if RT was the driver. “You need to see what he’s driving.”
“I’m leaving the station now. A couple of plainclothes won’t be far behind. Have Marcus give them something to do at the theaters for cover.”
“That can be arranged.” She slid her phone back in her pocket. “Okay, Manning. Let’s go inside. It’s getting hot.” In more ways than one.
“Okay if I leave the bike here?”
“Sure. We’re looking for a murderer, not a thief.”
As soon as they stepped in the kitchen, June turned on Manning. “I swear on Shakespeare’s head if you don’t keep your promise and find Wally, you’ll have me to deal with. I may be old, but I’ve the mind of a construction worker.” Jim gasped, then clamped his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. “Cait’s been through hell. Fix the problem or go home and take Wally with you.” She glared at him with her hands on her hips, then settled on a barstool.
Cait covered her mouth with her hand to suppress her laughter.
Marcus giggled.
“Christ on a broomstick,” June said. “I hate when people get away with murder.”
Speechless, Manning stared at June.
Cait cleared her throat. “You’ll get used to her. She’s a dramatic actress like my Aunt Tasha before someone murdered her.”
Manning cocked his eyebrow. “Your aunt was murdered?”
“That’s how I happened to inherit this place.”
Manning slid his hands in his pockets. “Sounds like this house brings bad luck to its tenants.”
She looked at Marcus for his reaction, since he’d grown up here. “People, not houses, are responsible for the environment.”
Manning’s face suddenly looked taut as piano wire. “You’re entitled to your opinion.”
“Sit down, Mr. Manning, and relax. Detective Rook will be here soon. Coffee?”
Manning nodded. “Please. Black. And call me Calder.”
“I’ll be in the office,” Marcus said.
“I’ll help you, Cait,” June said. She whispered as she poured coffee into mugs. “I should have held my tongue. He’ll think I’m old and crazy.”
“I love you the way you are.” Cait carried their coffee to the counter and pulled out a stool and sat next to Manning.
Someone tapped on the back door.
June opened it. Fumié stood on the step with a notebook in her hand. “Hi.”
Wearing cutoff jeans and a yellow tank top, Cait thought Fumié looked like a Barbie doll with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Marcus is expecting me. I’ve drawn sketches for your new gift shop.” She looked at Manning. “Am I interrupting?”
“No, come in,” Cait said. She closed the door and introduced Manning.
“Beautiful girl,” Manning said, his eyes lingering on Fumié as she went into the office. “Anyone else I should meet?”
“Only Detective Rook.”
“Where’s your friend from yesterday, the one who was ready to shoot me if I blinked?”
“He’s unavailable.” She didn’t detect a bulge under his jacket, but she wanted to know if he was armed. “Did the friend who lent you the motorcycle also provide you with a gun?”
“Why would you think that?”
The doorbell rang.
“That should be Detective Rook. I’ll be back.”
Rook stood on the porch and cocked his head at the motorcycle. “He drove that beast all the way from Ohio?”
Cait laughed. “No. You’re not a motorcycle fan?”
“Sure, but that’s some bike. Expensive, too.”
“Manning has a rental car. The bike belongs to a friend of his in the valley. He’s in the kitchen.” Cait introduced them and then hung back to observe their reaction to each other.
“Let’s hear your plan, Mr. Manning. Do you know where Wally Dillon is?” Rook asked. “I assume you have one or you wouldn’t have come all this way.”
“Of course,” Manning said. “I don’t know where he is, but he knows I’m in town.”
“What? You didn’t tell me you talked to him,” Cait said.
“It never came up.”
What the hell? She couldn’t believe his nonchalant attitude about a life-and-death situation. She saw Rook’s ears turn pink.
Rook shook his head. “Have you seen Wally since you’ve been here?”
Cait saw a hard look in Manning’s eyes, as if he were weighing his answer.
“No,” Manning said. “He wouldn’t tell me where he’s staying.”
“Apparently he has friends here, and money. What’s he planning to do?” Rook asked.
“I assume he means to kill Cait.” Manning held his hands up. “Hey, don’t blame me. I’m just the messenger. Don’t get me wrong. I intend to find him and end this.”
Fuming, Cait said, “Oh great! He’s already killed an innocent person, one of my actors.” She struggled to stifle her anger. “What’s motivating you? What do you have to gain by coming here?”
Marcus stuck his head out the door. “Found something on John LeBow.”
Manning’s head snapped around.
“LeBow is Wally Dillon’s cousin.”
“Good work, Marcus,” Rook said. “LeBow has a criminal record but no outstanding warrants. He’s the registered owner of that pickup we towed.”
She nodded. “I asked Marcus to investigate LeBow. Now we know where Wally got the guns and who his partner is.” Cait turned to Manning. “Do you know John LeBow?”
“The name’s familiar,” Manning admitted, “but I don’t know him and I didn’t know he was their cousin. What does he have to do with anything that’s happened?”
Cait sneered. “You mean besides providing Wally with a truck, firearms, and ammunition?”
“Why don’t you start by telling us why you went to the Columbus police station to inquire about the officer who shot Hank Dillon,” Rook said. “Then tell us about your phone conversations with Wally. After that, I’ll think about letting you in on our investigation, but you are not to interfere with the police. Is that clear?”
Manning nodded, but Cait wasn’t convinced Manning agreed with anything.