24
“I don’t know what to say.”
Amelia grinned at me as she sorted through the various wigs and outfits in the trunk of her car. “I figured it would be a good idea to have a stock of this stuff, just in case. Maya has a trunk-load as well.” She plucked out a blond wig, a pair of thin, stylish glasses, and a box of makeup.
“This is my fault, isn’t it?” I asked as she continued to sort through the wigs. She found a black one and handed it to me.
“Put that on,” she said. “You gave me the idea when Ben was in trouble. Once I started working with Chester regularly, I realized it would be prudent to have a few disguises in case I ever needed to confront an enraged husband or something. I wouldn’t want them recognizing me on the street later, you know?”
It was a good idea, but I had a hard time believing that anyone would be fooled by a wig and a pair of glasses. Of course, these weren’t like the cheap ones I’d bought her before. The wig she’d handed me felt like real hair, and the glasses looked like glasses you’d get at an optometrist’s office.
“How much did all of this cost?” I asked.
Amelia tied her purple-tipped hair up so that it didn’t touch her neck, and then pulled on her blond wig. “Enough.”
We used the bathroom in Chester’s office building to put on our disguises. It took us nearly twenty minutes to get ready. Amelia helped me with my wig, and while I didn’t get a pair of glasses, I did get a fake mole at the corner of my eye. She found herself a pretty cotton-candy-pink dress, while I ended up with a pantsuit over a size too small. The makeup took the longest to apply, and I let Amelia handle it. By the time she was done, neither of us looked like ourselves.
“I’m impressed,” I said, checking myself out in the mirror. “I didn’t think you knew how to put on makeup other than black eyeliner.”
“Ha. Ha.” Deadpan. Her lips were bubblegum pink. Made up as she was, Amelia kind of reminded me of Courtney, which was terrifying.
“So, what’s the plan?” I asked. We were in Amelia’s car, with her in the driver’s seat. “I don’t see how disguises are going to help us discover what kind of car Martin drives.”
“The costumes are for our protection,” Amelia said. “I have a plan, and figure we won’t want Martin realizing who we are. I’m not too keen on a guy like that showing up on our doorstep.”
I thought back to my phone conversation with him. “No, neither am I. But he knows who I am, knows your name. I don’t see how this is going to help.”
Amelia was still grinning. “He won’t know it’s us. Trust me.”
I spent the rest of the ride looking at myself in the sun-visor mirror. I looked younger, despite the pantsuit, which was surprisingly thinning, despite how I’d had to cram myself into it. I most definitely didn’t look like Amelia’s mom anymore. While she’d gone for a manufactured beautiful, Amelia had turned me into an insurance adjuster.
I tugged at my clothes, wishing she’d had something in my size, but unfortunately, that wasn’t to be. I guess I should be thankful she’d had the pantsuit at all. “I intentionally bought one two sizes too large,” she’d said. “It’s a lot easier to wear padding under that than one of these dresses, if ever I need to look bigger.”
Not the most flattering of statements—especially since it felt like I might pop the stitching if I breathed too deeply—but hey, I never said I was a petite flower.
We pulled into the lot of Martin’s private practice a few minutes later. The building was small and butted up against a nail salon on one side and a defunct Blockbuster on the other. The lot shared space with the local first-care building, and a small grocery aptly named Downtown Grocer.
My heart sank as I scanned the lot. “There has to be a hundred cars here.” There was no way I’d be able to pick Martin’s car out of the sea of vehicles. “Do you see a Mercedes?”
“No,” Amelia said, getting out of her car. “But that doesn’t matter.”
“Doesn’t matter? How are we—” I hurried to catch up to her. “Amelia, what are you doing?”
She was marching straight for the door to Martin’s practice. She paused outside it, whipped out a compact, and checked her makeup one last time. “You’re a witness,” she said. “Just verify everything I say, okay?”
“What? Wait!” It was too late; she’d already yanked open the door and was inside.
“Oh dear!” Amelia wailed, her voice an octave higher than normal. “Is the doctor in? Please, tell me I didn’t hurt his car.”
The nurse behind the window rose—Uma, I supposed. She looked to be in her early twenties, and was made up more like a stripper who was dressed as a nurse for her routine than someone who actually worked at a doctor’s office. The top buttons of her blouse were hanging open, leaving very little to the imagination.
“Who are you?”
“Me?” Amelia asked, hand fluttering to her chest. “I’m Amy Tan. I was heading in to get my nails done, and was so worried about not chipping one while driving, I dinged another car. Someone told me it was the doctor’s vehicle.” She looked at me. “She saw it and I just had to have her here as a witness so he knows I didn’t do it on purpose. I really, totally didn’t mean it, I swear.”
It was hard not to gape at her. Not only did she have a very Courtney-like look about her, she sounded like an over-the-top version of her.
The nurse seemed completely flummoxed by Amelia’s outburst. She blinked through the window, a near vacant look in her eye. I know it’s not nice to judge, but looking at her, I couldn’t figure out how she’d made it through medical school, let alone landed a job at an actual doctor’s office.
That’s not true. I knew exactly how she’d gotten the job, and it was through no fault of her own.
“Get Doctor Castor,” I said, changing my voice so it was rougher, and a smidge deeper. “He’ll want to assess the damage.”
Uma blinked a few more times before she scurried off into the back, presumably to get Martin.
“You didn’t hit his car,” I whispered, despite the fact we were alone in the waiting room.
“I know. But if he thinks I did, he’ll want to see what kind of damage I’ve inflicted. I’ll pretend I forgot where I parked, and have him take me to his car, which, of course, will be perfectly fine.”
“He won’t like you wasting his time.”
She shrugged. “Who cares? I’ll get a look at his car, and then apologize and grovel. He’ll be annoyed, but it’s not like he’ll shoot me for not damaging his ride. And while I’m out there with him, maybe you can learn something about him here.”
Uma returned then. “The doctor is with a f—err, patient. He’ll be out in a moment.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Oh, bless you.” Amelia rushed forward and reached through the window to take Uma’s hand. “You’re a lifesaver.”
Uma looked both pleased and kind of worried, as Amelia withdrew her hands and joined me by the door.
“Overplaying it a bit, aren’t you?” I asked under my breath.
“Maybe a little.” A ring of red was creeping up her neck. “It’s not like I do this sort of thing often. Besides, she seems to be buying it.”
Uma was watching us with a worried expression on her face. I didn’t think she suspected anything, which was a plus, but the longer this played out, the more likely I found it to be that we’d be discovered as frauds.
It didn’t take long for the door to open and an older man to stride out. He was wearing a nice suit and looked agitated. It took me a moment to realize I’d seen him before, just a few days ago.
“Mr. Wright?” His name popped out of my mouth before I could stop it. “Sterling Wright?”
Mr. Wright paused, halfway out the door, and glanced back at me. “Do I know you?”
“No, I just recognized your face. Are you one of Doctor Castor’s patients?”
“That, my lady, is none of your business.” He started to push his way out the door, but I stopped him.
“I know Detective Cavanaugh.” And then, to add a personal touch, I added, “Emmitt.”
“And?”
“He’s mentioned he’s been in a lot of meetings lately,” I said. “He’s working on a murder investigation and the meetings have been getting in the way of him doing his job. Weren’t you supposed to be with him now?”
“I don’t need to attend every meeting.” Mr. Wright glanced at his watch. “They are a necessary evil, and I hope that in the coming days we can reach a point where we are all happy. I’m certain the detective is doing the best he can under the circumstances. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.”
Before I could say another word, he pushed out the door and walked away.
I wanted to follow after him and press him into going easy on Detective Cavanaugh, but by then Martin Castor had joined us, and he was steaming mad.
“Who are you?” he demanded. “And what’s this about hitting my car?”
Amelia hitched in a breath, but did good by not showing fear. Martin was an intimidating man in person. He was in good shape and had a piercing stare that was almost a physical force. For an older man, he held himself like someone who would happily get into a fistfight if it would solve his problems.
“I’m sorry, Doctor,” Amelia said, breathless. “It was an accident. I’m sure my insurance will pay for it if it really is your car.”
“What car did you hit?”
“I, well . . .” She fumbled for a moment. “I didn’t look to see what make or model or anything. I don’t know that sort of stuff. Someone told me it was your car, though, and I just had to rush in and tell you what happened.”
Martin closed his eyes briefly and rubbed at the lids. “Fine. Show me.”
He didn’t so much as pay me a second glance as he walked out the door with Amelia. As the door swung closed, I heard her say, “I sure wish I could remember where I parked.”
I was left alone in the office with Nurse Uma, so instead of just standing around like a dope, I approached the window with a friendly smile. “Hi.”
“Hello.” She looked me up and down, and by the expression on her face, she didn’t approve of what she saw.
“What’s Doctor Castor like?” I asked. “I was thinking of changing doctors, and his name came up, so I figured I’d ask about him while I was here.”
“He won’t take you on,” Uma said. She lifted a perfectly manicured hand and spread the top of her shirt open a little farther.
Was that a hint?
“Well, can you at least give me an idea of what he’s like? Just in case.” I winked.
Uma sighed. “He likes things his way.” Another head-to-foot glance. “You aren’t his type.”
“His type?” My smile was faltering, but I somehow kept it in place. “I’m not trying to date him.”
“Sorry, he’s not going to be interested.” And with that, she closed the window.
I bit back a retort, knowing it would do little good. If I needed any more evidence that Martin Castor was a sexist jerk, Uma was proof enough. I wondered if she hated her job, or if she liked the attention.
Then again, it didn’t matter either way. It was Martin who made the decision to hire her. And maybe she’s a damn good nurse, I thought as I returned to my spot by the door. Good-looking people could be just as qualified for their jobs as the rest of us. Martin’s prejudices were causing me to make assumptions I wouldn’t normally make.
The door banged open just as I reached it. Martin stormed inside and walked right into me, nearly knocking me off my feet. Without so much as an excuse me, he shoved me aside and stormed to the back.
“Jerk,” I muttered. When Amelia didn’t follow him in, I headed outside to find her. It took me a moment to realize she was sitting in the driver’s seat of her car. When I climbed in next to her, I noted her hands were clutching the wheel, and they were shaking.
Amelia took a trembling breath, and then pulled off her wig. “His car is a white Lexus. He was . . . unhappy about being disturbed.”
My motherly instincts were in full force seeing Amelia so shaken up. “Did he say something to you?”
“He might have said a few things I won’t repeat to my mother.” Amelia glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “I’ll be okay. He was pretty pissed, but he’ll get over it.”
I wanted to march right back into the office and give the doctor a piece of my mind, but I restrained myself. It wouldn’t help anything. “What now?” I asked instead.
“Jack said it was a black car he saw that night?”
“Or dark colored; he wasn’t sure. And while he said it was a Mercedes, he allowed that it could have been another fancy car.”
“Like a Lexus?”
“Yeah, but Martin’s is white.”
“This car is white,” Amelia said. “Do you think an arrogant, vain man like Martin Castor only has one vehicle?”
She put the car in gear, and we were moving. I didn’t need to ask where we were headed. Amelia had a determined look on her face, one that told me she wouldn’t drop this until she found something to pin Martin to the wall with. Whatever he’d said to her, it must have been pretty bad.
We were soon cruising through a residential district where only the rich could afford to live. Nearly every driveway was gated, every house a mansion. I saw more than one nice car that would have fit Jack’s description parked in many of the driveways, which worried me. If there were that many nice cars in Grey Falls, how could we use a sighting of one to prove Martin’s guilt?
You’re not even sure he’s guilty, a little voice in the back of my mind said. While I wanted both Harry
Davis and Martin Castor to get what was coming to them, I wasn’t going to accuse them of murder without proof.
“I found his address while doing my research,” Amelia said as we drove. “At least, the address on record.”
“Do you think he’s somehow hidden that too?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. As far as I know, he has more than one home.”
Which made sense. A lot of rich folk had multiple places of residence, but most of the time, the second and third homes were on beaches or off on some mountain somewhere.
“There.” Amelia slowed down and pointed. “That’s his place.”
“That’s a big house.”
Martin’s home had to be the biggest house on the street. Like most of the other properties, the driveway was gated, but the fence was short and spikey, so you could see over it.
“There’s got to be what? Twenty rooms in that place?” Amelia asked.
“At least.” The front of the house was done in red brick that looked new. The windows were wide and clean. There had to be at least three floors, and that didn’t count any basement levels. “Can a doctor who lives in Grey Falls afford something like this?” We didn’t exactly live in a big city.
“He is pretty old,” Amelia said. “He could have been saving up for years.”
She slowed to a stop, just outside his driveway. There was a roundabout in front of the house, complete with a fountain at its center. There were no cars in the driveway.
“He has a garage,” I said, pointing to the structure. “If he has another car, it’ll be in there.”
“He could fit five cars in there.” Amelia leaned forward, as if she might be able to see through the doors. “We need to get a closer look.”
“How?” I asked, noting a neighbor standing outside on his lawn, watching us with a hose in hand. “Someone will see us.”
Amelia sped up again, and put Martin’s house behind us. The neighbor went back to watering his flowers. “Not now,” she said. “But tonight.”
My heart did a little hop in my chest. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”
She shot me a look out of the corner of her eye. “Trust me, Mom, I have a plan. And this one is even better than the last.”