I stared at Robby. “I’m not a detective, Robby. Lieutenant Mathers is very good at his job. He’s also a good friend of mine. You can count on him to do everything in his power to find the person who killed Daphne.”
“Right. Yeah. Excuse me if I don’t have the faith you do in the Clover Ridge Police Department. The last guy railroaded me straight to prison.”
“John Mathers is nothing like his predecessor!”
“Maybe. I sure hope that’s the case, but I’ve read about you, Carrie Singleton. You’ve solved a few murders in the area. And you knew my sister.”
“I did, and I’m so sorry about what happened to her. I think in time we would have become good friends.”
“More reason to find the person who killed her.”
I exhaled loudly. “Dylan and John Mathers have told me in no uncertain terms not to investigate her murder.”
Robby laughed. “And you plan to listen to them?”
“They’re concerned about my welfare,” I said, hating how prissy it sounded.
Robby reached over to rest his hand on my shoulder. “Carrie, I don’t want you to do anything reckless, but you have way of finding out things.”
I nodded. “I confess I want to help find the person who murdered Daphne. The most likely suspect is her ex-husband. Did she tell you about him?”
“Daphne said he showed up at her library talk—scared her half to death. And he hassled her at that event on the Green.” Robby grimaced. “Her ex is one lucky SOB. If I’d caught him with his hands on my sister, he would have ended up in the hospital with a few broken bones.”
“I was there and ran to get Lieutenant Mathers. He ordered Bert Lutz to leave town.” I shrugged. “I’ve no idea where he is now. I know John—Lieutenant Mathers— wants to question him.”
“Any more ideas?” Robby asked.
I snorted. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I looked up old newspaper articles from around the time of your father’s murder and saw there was an article about a fight he’d had with a man named Lester Brown.”
Robby nodded. “I remember him. They were friendly for a while until my father got it into his head that Les was interested in my mother.”
“Do you think he was?”
“I doubt it. Les Brown was a big flirt. And I certainly didn’t get the sense that my mother cared at all about him.”
“What was your mother like around the time of the murder?”
Robby tilted his head to one side as he thought. “She was busy working most of the time. But I remember thinking how weird she was acting—happy one minute and singing a song, then suddenly turning anxious. Frightened.”
“Do you think she was seeing anyone?”
Robby shot me a disapproving glance. “That’s a funny thing to ask.”
“I suppose it’s difficult to imagine your mother having an affair, even though your father was abusive.”
“Sorry. I have no business censoring your questions. The answer is, I have no idea. Part of me is shocked to think of my mother committing adultery. Part of me wishes she’d had a bit of happiness during those dark years.”
He pressed his lips together as he thought. “I never saw any signs of her having a lover, but Daphne told me that a few times she’d passed a man leaving our apartment complex when she was coming home from school. She had a feeling he’d been seeing our mother.” He scoffed. “Of course, the man could have been seeing another woman who lived in our building. But I remember a few times when the phone rang, Mom rushed to answer it. She had the strangest expression on her face when she hung up.”
“Are you in touch with your mother now?”
Robby shook his head. “No, and neither was Daphne. Daph was horrified when she took off without a word to either of us. Of course she wasn’t around at the time of my trial either, which I sorely resented at the time. I think she’s remarried and living somewhere in Oregon. I suppose she hated her life with my father so much, she didn’t want any reminders of it, and that included Daphne and me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I know what it’s like to come from a dysfunctional family.”
“There’s one more thing I want to share with you. Recently, Daphne picked up strong vibes from someone who knew our mother.”
“That’s not surprising,” I said. “I’m sure there are plenty of people in Clover Ridge who knew her.”
Robby laughed. “Of course, but this is where her newfound psychic abilities kicked in. Daph was out in a public place when she received a very strong sense that someone she’d passed had known and loved our mother very much.”
“Was it the man she’d seen a few times leaving your apartment complex?” I asked.
“She wouldn’t say. She wanted to make sure before she told me any more.”
“How could she make sure? Did she know his name? Where he lived?”
Robby shook his head. “I have no idea. She wouldn’t tell me.”
“Then Daphne was murdered,” I murmured. “That’s no coincidence.”
He shot me a look of pure anguish. “But why would someone who loved my mother all those years ago want to kill my sister?”
“Did you tell all this to Lieutenant Mathers?” I asked.
“Are you kidding? Do you know how it sounds? Besides, I was pissed at the way they questioned me—as if I’d hurt my own sister.”
I nodded. “And you’d like me to find out who did.”
“Yes. With all my heart.”
It was close to six thirty when I finally walked through the front door of my cottage. Smoky Joe was happy to see me and led me into the kitchen, where I dropped off the items I’d bought for that night’s dinner and fed him a large supper. While he was chomping away, I wandered into the living room. His displeasure at having been left home all day was evident—throw pillows on the floor, a chewed-up magazine; even some papers I’d left on the coffee table had been scattered about.
“Sorry, Smoky Joe,” I told him when he joined me in my bedroom after eating his fill. “I know you hate to be left here on your own.”
I changed into jeans and a T-shirt, then headed back to the kitchen to prepare dinner for Dylan and me. I set the kitchen table, then heated up the barbecued chicken and roasted veggies I’d bought after meeting Robby, and dressed a salad with my homemade dressing. All the while, my mind reviewed the events of the day.
It was hard to believe it had been just this morning that I’d stopped by the movie set to watch them film a few of Tom’s scenes. My mother’s interchange with Ilana had upset me, but more disturbing was learning that Daphne had been murdered.
Daphne is dead! Robby is really her brother, Billy Harper. And he wants me to find out who killed his sister. This was both something I wanted to do and something Dylan and John wanted me not to. Why was life so complicated?
I exhaled loudly. Maybe there was no mystery here. Sometimes the most obvious solution was the right one. Bert Lutz had probably murdered Daphne. The spouse was always the most logical suspect, and Bert was a hothead and a wife-beater. I’d seen for myself how angry he’d been when he’d accosted Daphne on the Green, furious because she had dared to leave him.
Still, I couldn’t help wondering if Daphne’s murder was connected in some way to her father’s. A farfetched possibility, since that was now a very cold case. Suspects might have moved away or died. Chet Harper had had a violent temper and must have set someone off. Discovering who had murdered him was close to impossible. Neither Roy Peters nor Lester Brown, two people who had known him, could give me any leads.
Dylan came over at seven thirty bearing an expensive bottle of white Bordeaux. “Mmm,” I said, taking it from him when I left his warm embrace. “This will go very well with dinner. I’ll open it now.”
“Allow me to do the honors,” he said, following me into the kitchen. “Smells good. What have you created this evening?”
I laughed. “Barbecued chicken and roasted veggies. Straight from a new market,” I said, and was relieved when he didn’t ask why I hadn’t gone to Gourmet Delight.
Over dinner, Dylan told me about the new client who had stopped by his office. “He’s a software inventor and thinks one of the three people working for him might be stealing his secrets.”
“Sounds intriguing,” I said. “How do you plan to catch the thief?”
“I’m working on it. First I have to familiarize myself with the kind of software material Terry’s working on. Then I want to understand the working conditions—how they all work together, who has access to Terry’s files and how secure they are.”
“In other words, you need to gather information and then you’ll start investigating.”
“I suppose you could put it that way.” Dylan laughed. “It’s still a far cry from chasing after stolen artwork and jewelry.”
I cleared our dishes and turned on the coffee. Dylan stretched his arms overhead. “It’s good to be home.”
“I hope you stay here a while.”
“Me too.” He opened his arms, and I slipped onto his lap for a long and satisfying kiss. I loved Dylan and believed we were together for the long haul, which meant I had to get something settled, and the sooner the better.
I stood when the coffeemaker began to make noises and set out mugs and plates for our dessert.
“I stopped by the gym before coming home,” I said as I poured coffee into Dylan’s mug.
“Really? That must have been one fast workout.”
I reached inside the refrigerator for the milk container. “I went there to talk to Robby Dowd.”
“Did you start dating him when I was out of town?” Dylan teased.
“He wanted to talk to me about Daphne.”
“The woman who was murdered?”
“Yes. Robby’s real name is Billy Harper. He’s Daphne’s brother.”
“Oh.”
I set the container of milk on the table harder than necessary. “Before you start to lecture me, I need to say what’s on my mind.”
I drew in a deep breath, hoping I wasn’t setting myself up for an impasse in our relationship.
“Robby called me at work and said he needed to talk to me. At that time I had no idea he was related to Daphne.”
“But why did he call you?”
“Because he knew that I’d helped solve other homicides. He wants me to find the person who killed his sister.”
Dylan pursed his lips. “I see.”
“I know you hate when I get involved in an investigation because you’re worried something will happen to me. I tell you I won’t do it again—but I do, and—well, I’m sorry.” That didn’t come out as planned.
“Then you’ll explain to Robby that you’re a librarian and he should talk to John.”
“I already told him to talk to John.” I forced myself to meet his gaze. “But I’m sick of apologizing. I’m going to help Robby.”
Dylan gaped at me as if I’d just told him I was going to the moon.
I reached over and rubbed his arm. “Dylan, I love you and I love that you care about my safety, but I’m not a child. I can’t have you trying to stop me from doing something I believe is important.”
I put up my hand to stop him from speaking. “I don’t want us to fight over this. I promise to use good judgment and will try not to do anything rash or put myself in danger.”
Dylan took my hands in his. “I’m an investigator. I deal with thieves and worse. I’ve seen men shot and knifed, and I’ve been in plenty of tough spots myself. It’s hard for me to see you involved in another murder investigation. Even before you knew that Robby was Daphne’s brother, you went to check out that man who had fought with their father shortly before he was stabbed to death.”
“I did. I promise to be more discreet in the future.”
Dylan shook his head. “There’s no point in arguing with you, Carrie. You’re going to do what you feel is right, and I can’t change that. All I ask is that you please be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”