CHAPTER THIRTEEN

It was starting to get dark when Abe dropped Nora at home. “Want me to stick around?” he asked.

“No, no, giving me a lift is enough. I’ll be fine. Appreciate you.”

She stepped from Abe’s Subaru and waved as the car tires crunched away on the pebble driveway. Turning back toward the darkened house, she noticed Nana’s waterfall was quiet. Must be bumper-to-bumper traffic in both directions on 95. She shook her head at the idea that her peace and quiet meant hundreds of people were going to be late for something. What a world.

Nora didn’t often use the front because she usually parked in the garage. But the front door always brought a smile. Sophie and Nana had insisted they paint it bright red. “Makes it a happy house, Mommy,” was all the explanation she needed. She pulled out the big key that opened the red door. But in the dim light, she missed the keyhole and the point of the key gently tapped the lock surface. The door swung slowly inward. Nora lifted her phone to the lock. In the screen’s light, she could see a piece of black tape holding the latch flat. A chill shot up her neck. Those hairs Rob talks about.

Nora stepped into the dark entryway. “Hello?” she called, inching her way into the silent house, leaving the door open behind her. She flicked on lights and slowly walked through the kitchen, her heart thumping in her chest. She stopped in the kitchen and listened. It was quiet. She turned quickly and rushed out the patio door and onto the back lawn, where she called Benny. He answered on the first ring, again on speaker.

“Hey, we’re supposed to be fifteen minutes out, but all we see is brake lights ahead—I got Carmen here—”

Carmen Garcia’s voice came over the phone. “Hey girl, can’t wait to see you.”

“—we are stuck in some really shitty traffic. What’s up? You home?”

Nora told him.

“Son of a bitch,” he answered, spitting the words. “I’m gonna go lights and siren and drive on the goddamn shoulder but I still can’t be there quick enough. Call 911, and do not, under any circumstances, go back in that house. Sit on your front porch until the cops get there and clear the house. Do it now.”

He hung up. Nora called 911, walking rapidly around the house toward the front. A marked Westport PD unit was in her driveway two minutes later. Nora was talking to the officer when an unmarked unit crunched to a stop and Demi Kofatos stepped from the car.

“Can’t get enough of us today, huh?” Demi called, immediately regretting the humor.

Nora looked stricken as she gestured toward front door. “Somebody broke in,” she said.

Demi joined the two of them. “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “Been a long day. But for you, too, I’m guessing. Seems unlikely somebody is still here, but let us clear the house, okay? Stay here.”

Demi and the uniformed officer walked up the front steps and disappeared into the house. Five minutes later, they were back.

“All clear,” Demi called from the front porch. “Can we go inside and talk? And don’t touch the door. We’re gonna want to print it.”

Nora didn’t answer, but stepped up the stairs and through the open door. She walked through the house to the kitchen, dropping onto a wooden chair. The detective went to the sink, running the faucet and reaching into the cabinet. “I’m gonna get you some water.” She put the filled glass on the table in front of Nora and sat across, watching Nora take a long drink.

“Thank you,” Nora said, setting the glass on the table.

“You’re welcome,” Demi said gently. “You okay to talk for a minute?”

Nora nodded.

“I don’t know what’s going on here,” Demi said. “But I’m pretty sure the dead lady’s blood is all over the back of your car.”

Nora didn’t react.

“So you have no idea how that got there?”

Nora shook her head. “I don’t.”

“Or about what she was doing in your canoe?”

“Nope.”

“Forensic people pulled a couple long reddish brown hairs off her jacket. Those going to be yours?”

“I have no idea,” Nora said. “Probably, the way this is going.”

“You and Helen have any kind of beef?”

Nora widened her eyes. “Are you joking? None.”

“Fights over work or money or love? That’s the usual stuff, as I’m guessing you know from your past life.”

Nora shook her head again. “I know. And no. None of the usual stuff, or unusual stuff.”

“So somebody wanted to kill Helen and frame you? Why would they want to do that?”

Nora paused, then shrugged her shoulders.

Before Demi could respond, Benny’s voice filled the house. “Hey, where you at in this McMansion?”

“In the kitchen!” Nora called. “Just keep walking.”

Demi turned to see a human form nearly filling the doorway, its blond crew cut passing just beneath the frame. Benny strode across the kitchen floor, swiping a wooden chair with one huge paw and putting it next to Nora, who had turned in her chair with a broad smile.

“Benny,” she said.

“Hey kid,” he answered, dropping into his transported chair with a thud, putting one hand on her shoulder. “The cavalry’s here.”

Demi was so distracted by this mountain of a person—who was entirely ignoring her—that she nearly missed a short, dark-haired woman who seemed pulled into the kitchen by his wake. But the trailing woman noticed her and leaned over the corner of the table, extending her hand.

“Hi, I’m Carmen Garcia, Nora’s lawyer. And you are?”

“Demi Kofatos, Westport PD.”

“Can I ask what you two were talking about?”

“We were chatting while the uniforms checked around.”

Carmen arched her eyebrows. “Chatting about?”

“The case, the dead woman.”

“Yeah,” Carmen said sharply, “no offense, but the chatting has to stop. Appreciate you checking around but if you want to chat about the case, you should talk to me. Okay?”

Demi shrugged and stood. “Fine by me, but I think some chatting might make sense the way this one is shaping up.” Looking at Nora, she added, “Hope you feel better,” and walked through the house to her car.

When the detective was gone, Nora stood and leaned over to embrace Carmen. Through her tears, Nora chuckled and said, “So you’re my lawyer now?”

“You bet your ass,” Carmen said, her hands reaching up to hold Nora’s shoulders as her face broadened into a smile. “We Puerto Ricans are a generous people, but I’m pretty sure you can’t afford my fancy law firm rate.”

“You never know,” Nora answered. “I’m a private sector person now, just like you. But I’m also pretty sure you aren’t licensed to practice in Connecticut.”

Benny interrupted. “Hey, don’t mean to stop the lawyer stuff, but I need two things before we continue: a chair that don’t hurt my butt and some whiskey.”

When Nora finished her story, Carmen and Benny looked at each other across the living room. “You first, by all means,” Carmen said, gesturing with one hand.

“Okay,” Benny said, cupping his whiskey glass in his gigantic hands and crossing his feet on the living room ottoman. “So no doubt the Westport cops are coming for you. The blood on the car, the hairs on the body—which are definitely gonna be yours—and it being your canoe put too much pressure on them. And they’re gonna think you staged this little break-in here at the house. They probably haven’t charged you yet because all the lab work isn’t done. And maybe because they need some piece of motive proof. Soon as they get that, you’re in the shit. And before I forget, you gotta go through every inch of this place to see if anything’s missing or been messed with.”

Benny gestured back to Carmen with exaggerated formality. “Counsel?”

Carmen grimaced. “Well, that was your usual ray of sunshine, Benny, now wasn’t it?”

Turning to Nora, she added, “And I know our beloved colleague doesn’t like—what was his charming phrase?—oh yeah, ‘lawyer stuff,’ but I want to be clear that all our conversations are in connection with my potential representation of you. I’m not licensed here, but that just means I need special permission to appear in a Connecticut courtroom; I’m still an attorney and these are privileged conversations. Okay?”

Nora nodded. “Got it.”

“And I no longer work for the federal government, as you know, but Benny still does. For these purposes, though, he is here not as a special agent with the United States Department of Justice, but on his own time, volunteering to assist me. We talked on the ride up here. Should this go any further, he intends to take a longer leave of absence from his day job and work for me, on your behalf, full-time. But here’s hoping it doesn’t come to that.”

Benny rapped two of his knuckles on his own forehead. “Knock on wood.”

“Questions?” Carmen asked.

Nora felt a wave of emotion so strong that she could only shake her head no. Carmen had been the chief of Violent and Organized Crime in the Manhattan US Attorney’s office for almost a decade, and Nora’s immediate supervisor for five hard years. As with Benny, she and Carmen had developed a connection formed by great stress, and she felt guilty that she had not been in regular touch after they both left government, Nora for Westport and Carmen for a big Manhattan law firm. Yet here these people were, dropping everything to help her, literally on a moment’s notice.

She gathered herself. “I’m very grateful you are my friends. And my legal team.”

Benny cleared his throat. “And here’s the thing. Given you got assholes breaking into your house, my leave starts now. I ain’t goin’ anywhere until you’re safe and this is sorted out. You know I got no life anyway. You got a guest bedroom in this fancy place?”

Nora smiled. “Of course. This is Westport, we aren’t savages. It’s downstairs with its own private bathroom. And its own fridge.”

“Perfect,” Benny said. “On at least two counts. And are you too fancy to have an alarm and cameras? What, you move to the suburbs and think crime doesn’t exist? Seriously? That’s top of my list.”

Nora was grinning broadly. “Will be good to have you around.”