3 Dime If I Know (23 page)

Britt shook his head, his lips turning down. “Hon, I know you mean well, but you’re stirring people up. You’ve hit a nerve. Murderers come in all shapes and sizes, but there’s only one Cleopatra Jones. Your mother would skin me alive if anything happened to you.”

I waved off his concern as another idea occurred to me. The brazenness of it warmed me, and I shucked off the blanket. “We need to strike back at his powerful family, now, while they think I’m helpless. They won’t be expecting an offensive move.”

“You need to go home to Dee and the girls.”

“That’s what the Goldens expect, but I won’t roll over and play dead. That house in Potomac is where I need to be. I’m gonna drive down there and shake the family tree.”

“Now I know you’re nuts. Stay away from the entire Golden family.”

“Not happening.” I studied him for a long moment. “But you could go with me.”

He studied me back, as if he were deciding something important. “You can go with me, but I have something to show you first.”

Britt drove me to the police station and parked me at his desk. “Stay put. I’ll be right back.”

The Law Enforcement Center bustled with buff-looking young men. Three officers had people sitting at their desks, as I was doing. A female officer strolled by. All of these people risked their lives every day to keep the peace.

Kudos to them for that. One bullet hole in my car, and I’d fallen apart.

But I shared with them a need for justice, a need for the real story to be told. Would I have made a good cop? My head said yes, but my gut said no. I couldn’t get past the whole shooting thing.

Give me an accounting nightmare any day. The cops could keep the armed criminals.

Britt returned, manila folder in hand. He withdrew a page. “Take a look at this.”

I read the first line of the formal-looking document with growing interest. “Brenna’s death certificate? How’d you get it?”

“I requested it, same as you. Only my request got bumped to the head of the line.”

I read the coroner’s statement describing the death of Brenna Golden. It wasn’t pretty. Over fifty wounds. My stomach turned at the words.

“Poor kid,” I whispered. “What were you doing behind the target?”

Britt nodded. “Valid question. One I wondered myself, so I also requested the coroner’s detailed report. I didn’t learn much except to see a schematic of the wounds.”

“I don’t need to see that.” I had a perfectly good imagination. “What about a photo of Brenna? Was that in the coroner’s report?”

“If there was, it was removed before I accessed the file.”

Not that I wanted to see the corpse, but the omission seemed downright odd. “What does that mean?”

He held up his palm. “Before you go getting crazy ideas, it might have no meaning at all. The picture could have been lost or misplaced. Happens all the time.”

Chagrined, I studied the death certificate again. “The time of death is given as seven in the morning. That’s precise. How’d the coroner pinpoint it so exactly?”

“I believe he took the time from the police incident report. The kids began firing at the range at that time.”

“Does this seem right to you?”

Britt leaned closer. “Everything seems neatly tied up, but it feels off for some reason.”

I felt a flicker of hope. “You don’t trust the report?”

“Never said that. But I’m willing to hear more from the family about this cold case.”

That was something, at least. If I couldn’t flush Starr’s killer from the field of suspects, perhaps understanding Brenna’s death would shed light on how the Goldens operated.

Britt drove us to Potomac. Knowing I wasn’t alone bolstered my courage. Deep in my bones, I knew this was the right thing to do. There were answers in that house, answers that had been kept secret for way too long.

Florie opened the paneled door. In her tidy uniform and owlish-looking glasses, she seemed like a caricature of a housekeeper. “Yes?”

“I apologize for coming unannounced, but I need to speak with the family,” I said in a rush of words, hoping against hope she wouldn’t slam the door in my face. “My car’s in the shop, so an old friend drove me down. This is Britt Radcliff.”

Florie bobbed her head in Britt’s direction as she clung to the front door. Indecision crossed her face like a passing shadow from a hawk’s wing. Then she invited us into the foyer.

“Please wait here,” Florie said before melting into the house. Her soft-soled shoes made no sound on the ceramic tile floor.

“Kinda like a tomb in here,” Britt said, hands jammed in his pockets.

“Keep your voice down,” I warned. “We don’t want to get thrown out before we even begin.”

He grinned. “You have no idea, do you?”

His question caught me off guard. Was he talking about the killer’s identity? I brazened it out. “What do you mean?”

“The Goldens will treat you with kid gloves. You’ve got something they want.”

“The truth?”

“No. They don’t care about that. They’ve got their own version of the truth. They want Rafe.”

“They’re not going to get him. I mean he doesn’t want to be gotten. Oh dear, that still didn’t come out right. He’s never felt comfortable here. He won’t return to the family fold.”

Britt rocked his weight forward onto the balls of his feet.

“He won’t,” I asserted. “He told me about growing up here, about what it was like to be different. I understand what that’s like. He may have the same last name as them, but he’s his own man.”

“Blood will tell.”

“Hush. You sound like Mama.”

“Delilah is right. I’ve seen it over and over in my work. No matter how dysfunctional a family is, they band together to face an outside threat. Your action to come down here and prove Rafe’s innocence is a wonderful, loyal gesture. However, Rafe won’t see it that way, and it’s likely his family will resent the intrusion. You should at least call your boyfriend, and tell him what you’re doing.”

“I didn’t want to call earlier because he might tell me to turn around, but now that we’re here, I don’t mind texting him.” I pulled out my cell phone and entered a brief message.

In Potomac with your family. Will prove you are innocent. Love, Cleo

Message sent, I turned off the ringer on the phone. “Satisfied?”

He shrugged.

I was saved from replying as Florie hurried back. “Mr. and Mrs. Golden will receive you in the library.”

Britt’s head swiveled to take in the jewel-toned artwork, the crystal vases with freshly cut flowers, the elegant drapes, and the upscale furniture. Shep Golden stood by the wet bar, drink in hand. His white polo had a large sailboat logo, his trousers looked as if they’d just come off the ironing board. Amanda Golden stood beside the crimson and gold drapes, the sun radiant on her lithe body. Next to her was Ashley, the supermom cousin who lived next door. They both turned at our approach.

I introduced Britt, declined a drink, and got right down to business. “I’m here to talk about Rafe and Starr.”

“What now?” Amanda Golden said. “Isn’t it enough that the local police have crawled through our lives and home all afternoon?”

“I had nothing to do with that,” I countered. My hands went up, palms out to show my lack of threat. “I’m trying to help your son prove his innocence. I need to know what happened between him and Starr all those years ago.”

“That’s in the past,” Shep said. “We have an unwritten rule to never look back. It’s our family policy.”

Amanda’s sharp eyes bored into me. I’d had a crappy day as well. She didn’t frighten me.

“That’s unfortunate, because we need to find out who else beside Rafe had a connection with Starr. I understand she worked at the country club. Did you know her, Mr. Golden?”

“I didn’t know her. She worked there, for goodness sake. No one pays attention to staff.”

“She didn’t look familiar when Rafe began dating her?”

“I suppose.”

“Did you ever date her?”

“That’s absurd,” Rafe’s mother snarled. “He’s a married man.”

“Not as absurd as you think. There’s a child. Rafe says the child isn’t his. But I have to tell you, Kylie looks exactly like a Golden.”

“A child?” Shep repeated in a flat voice.

“Do you know something about Starr and her daughter?” I asked, glancing around the room. Ashley had retreated to the bar and was fooling around with the glasses. I wanted to shout at her that one of them might be laced with arsenic, but I didn’t. She could be the poisoner.

Regina walked in with Mary on her heels. “Stop this at once,” Regina said. “You have no right to be here. We’ve been through enough today.”

I drew myself up to my full height. Granted, I was four inches shorter than Rafe’s high-powered executive sister, but I felt tall. “Someone in this house has it in for Rafe. They’re making sure he will pay for Starr’s murder.”

“She was a hustler. A greedy opportunistic hustler. I told him that from day one,” Regina said. “He laughed at me and said she had an honest face. All she ever did was lie to him.”

“Please continue.”

“Starr wanted what Rafe had—money and connections. She used him, and he let her do it because she made him feel good. She wasn’t worth his time. She liked to make men feel good.”

“How do you know about that?”

She shrugged. “You hear things.”

“Things about Starr dating another Golden?”

Regina blinked furiously. “I’ve said enough.”

Hill walked in holding hands with Tiffany. “That’s a first, Reggie,” Hill said. “You always have more to say. Hey, Cleo. What’s this about?”

I noted Florie hovering by the door and waved her in. “This is about clearing Rafe from police suspicion. He’s very close-mouthed about the past.”

“He’s a Golden. We guard our secrets,” Shep said.

“Our private affairs are none of your business,” Amanda Golden added.

“Rafe has been punished enough for his secrets.” I took a deep breath. “Someone in this library is a killer.”

As if the movie had stopping rolling, everyone froze in place. Ashley stared at me. I accepted her unstated challenge. “Let’s start with Ashley. She knew the ins and outs of Rafe’s place from designing it for him. I’m sure she has access to his place today because Rafe is highly trusting. She lives next door to this house. She could have poisoned Rafe last week and throughout his childhood.”

“Poison?” Amanda leaned toward me, her voice shrill. “My son was poisoned?”

“He was. And not just once. He recalls similar vomiting events throughout his childhood, and you claimed he had a weak stomach. It’s weak for good reason. Someone has been poisoning him for years.”

“That’s outrageous,” Regina snapped. “You don’t have any proof.”

“I have the hospital report from the night he was poisoned, and I trust Rafe’s recollection of his childhood. You don’t forget vomitting episodes. Someone here gave him arsenic. Someone who wants him out of the way. They say poison is a woman’s weapon. Maybe it wasn’t Ashley who poisoned Rafe. Maybe it was Regina. Maybe she couldn’t stand the competition from her younger brother.”

“Liar,” Regina shouted. “I didn’t poison anyone.”

“But you know where the arsenic is, don’t you?”

“There were rats in the poolhouse years ago. We put out arsenic to kill them. Wait. Is that why the cops were here today? Looking for our rat poison?”

I nodded. “How many people knew about the arsenic? Show of hands?” Mary and Florie didn’t raise their hands. I waited until they looked my way. “How about you ladies? Did you know about the poison?”

Mary gave a slight nod but kept quiet.

“I would never hurt Mr. Rafe,” Florie said. “He’s so sweet to me, always coming to my kitchen for ginger ale for his upset tummy.”

“What about you, Hill?”

“I’m no poisoner, but I knew about the rats. I didn’t know we had arsenic on the premises, still don’t, and I don’t care. I’ve got better things to do than to sit around rehashing the past.”

The blonde at his elbow started. I turned my attention to her. “The answers are in the past, aren’t they, Tiffany? You used to date Rafe and now you’re with Hill. What does that say about you?”

The model-thin woman quivered. “That I know a good thing when I see it?”

Her lame quip fell on deaf ears. What had Rafe ever seen in her? I dismissed her and turned back to Hill. “Did you date Starr?”

His face colored. “Not cool. My fiancée is in the room.”

“This is exactly the time to talk about it. Let me be more specific. Did you sleep with Starr?”

All eyes turned to him, and he shrugged. “Sure. She put out for anyone. Once Rafe found out about her equal opportunity humping policy, he dumped her.”

“You dated her while she was dating your brother?”

“We hooked up a couple of times.”

His cool tone gave one impression, the fire in his eyes another. My curiosity surged. “Did she ask you for money?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“She did, didn’t she?” A piece of the puzzle snapped together in my mind. The big picture became clearer. “You didn’t blow your inheritance gambling. You blew it on Starr. Did she blackmail you?”

“Wait a minute,” Regina said, pointing at Britt. “I recognize your voice. You’re the police officer who called with questions about Rafe and Starr. The one I saw with Rafe at the police station.”

“I’m a detective,” Britt said, “but I’m here in an unofficial capacity with my friend Cleo.”

“This isn’t a police matter?”

“Only if you think it is.”

“This is very confusing,” Regina said.

“Not as confusing as the layers of secrets around here,” I said, focusing on Rafe’s sharp-tongued sister. “It’s my guess you encouraged Hill to go after Starr to prove to Rafe she wasn’t faithful.”

Shep groaned and sat down too hard in his chair. Booze sloshed over the side of his glass. Mary brought him a handful of napkins.

“Damn,” Hill said. “She’s right. You did tell me to go after Starr.”

“I did it for Rafe’s own good,” Regina said. “He’s always been too gullible, too trusting. Starr was a nasty user. I didn’t want her sinking her sharp claws into Rafe.”

“Instead she sank them into me. Thanks for nothing, big sister,” Hill said.