MULTIPLE MOTIVES (The Kate Huntington mystery series Book 1) (10 page)

Kate smiled.
When things have settled down, I’m going to relive this moment and savor that giggle
.

“So here’s what we’re going to do,” the doctor was saying. “Tomorrow we’re going to get you on your feet so you can try out those legs of yours. If all goes well, in two or three days I think you can go home. But you can’t fly. The changes in cabin pressure wouldn’t be good for that noggin of yours. Hmm, I’d prefer you go by ambulance but that would be expensive.”

He turned to Pete. “Young man, can you rent a station wagon or van, something that has seats that fold flat so your wife can lay down in the back?” Pete nodded enthusiastically.

“Thank you!” Kate whispered to the doctor as he swept past her.

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back and bustled down the hall.

~~~~~~~~

Monday morning, Kate was awakened by the doorbell. Her alarm would have gone off in fifteen minutes anyway, because this was the day that Mary and Pete were starting for home. But who was ringing her doorbell at seven-fifteen in the morning?

She grabbed her robe and raced down the stairs. When she looked through the peephole, the face she saw made her stomach clench. She groaned out loud.

Phillips hit the bell again.

She yanked open the door and pushed the screen door out, forcing him to back up. Pulling the inside door closed behind her, she stepped out onto the porch. “Do you mind, Phillips? The sun’s barely up yet and I’ve got house guests.”

“Oh, yeah, Franklin and who else? You into orgies now? And it’s Detective Phillips to you.”

“You really are disgusting,
Detective
Phillips. My parents and brother-in-law are here, as if it’s any of your business.”

“Everything you do is my business, lady. You’re a murder suspect.”

“Why don’t you say it a little louder so all the neighbors can hear? And give my parents a heart attack while you’re at it.” Kate realized her fists were clenched. She willed them to uncurl.

Phillips actually had the decency to look sheepish, but he didn’t apologize. “I have some more questions for you.”

“You mean you have the same questions for me,
again
. I don’t have time for this. My family is leaving this morning and I have to see them off. If Mr. Franklin is available, we can come to the station later.” Spending part of her morning at the police station was not what she wanted to do, but she had to get Phillips off her porch before her family came looking for her and saw him.

“I don’t need to talk to Franklin right now, just you.”

“
Mister
Franklin is my attorney, and he has advised me not to talk to you again unless he’s there.”

“Oh, got something to hide?”

Kate gritted her teeth and reined in her temper. She had to get rid of him. “Look, Detective, give me a break here. Let me get my family on their way and I’ll be at the station by ten-thirty.” She didn’t have clients scheduled until that afternoon.

The inside door swung open. Her father, in his bathrobe, stepped into the doorway, a baseball bat clutched in his hands.

“It’s okay, Dad! Mr. Phillips is a neighbor. And he’s about to leave. Sorry, Mr. Phillips, but I don’t have any flour.” She knew she was babbling but couldn’t seem to stop herself. “I’m not much of a cook so I don’t have stuff like that on hand.”

Phillips gave them both a hard look. “Later,” he said, and left.

As Kate turned back to her father, he lowered the bat and raised an eyebrow at her. “Funny thing. That fella’s the spittin’ image of the copper who was askin’ questions ’bout Ed a couple a months ago.”

Kate couldn’t think of a thing to say. She’d forgotten how hard it was to fool her old man.

“Humph. Guess I’ll be gettin’ meself dressed.” As he walked away, he said back over his shoulder, “Mac’s comin’ to see us off. Said he’d be here ’bout eight.”

Pete had managed to rent a camper, complete with tiny bathroom and kitchenette. Mary wouldn’t have to leave it until they reached their home. The doctor had approved. Her parents were going along to help Pete care for the patient on the road.

By the time Mac arrived, Kate was showered and dressed. Pete and her father had left in the Saturn to pick up the camper. Her mother was in the kitchen, still in her robe, making breakfast. Kate took the spatula out of her hand and tried to shoo her off to get dressed. Her mother gave her a skeptical look.

“Oh, come on, Ma. Even I can make scrambled eggs and toast.”

“Don’t worry, Aunt B,” Mac said, reverting to his childhood name for Kate’s mother, “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

Kate turned on him, swinging the spatula in mock battle. Mac just grinned as he helped himself to a cup of coffee.

Once her mother was out of earshot, she said, “Hey, Mac, do you have to be at the restaurant this evening?”

“Funny you should ask,” Mac replied. “Got things covered there for awhile. Dan called me last night. Once they get Mary home, he’s plannin’ on leavin’ your ma out there. But he’s comin’ back. Asked me to camp out on your couch ’til then.”

Kate had to smile. Her old man was definitely nobody’s fool.

But how to stop him from coming back? She’d have to give that some thought. At least she had a few days to come up with something.

“This evening I want to have a strategy session. A war council, if you will–you, me and Rob.”

Mac nodded and the subject was dropped as they heard footsteps heading toward the kitchen.

Getting Mary and her retinue on their way went smoothly from there. After breakfast, Pete loaded luggage into the camper while Kate stocked the tiny refrigerator and playhouse-sized cabinets with supplies.

Pete and her folks piled into the camper. Mac and Kate followed in his Hummer. Only Kate knew there was a third vehicle in their little caravan. Her bodyguard was dutifully tagging along behind.

At the hospital, Pete pulled the camper right up to the front doors. Mary was brought out in a wheelchair pushed by an aide. Her gnome of a doctor trailed behind. Kate doubted he normally escorted patients to their vehicles, but maybe he wanted to personally supervise this rather unorthodox discharge.

Kate hugged her sister gently. Then she and her mother exchanged a hug while Pete and the aide helped Mary into the camper.

The doctor handed her mother a clear bag of pill bottles, then leaned into the back of the camper. “I’ve gone over everything with your mama so I’ll turn you over to her now,” he said to Mary.

Bridget shyly said, “Thank you, Doctor, thank you so much.” Despite the fact that she was a couple inches taller and quite a few pounds heavier than the doctor, the elderly gentleman gallantly took her elbow to assist her up the three little steps into the camper.

Pete closed the door, then grabbed the doctor’s hand. He pumped it so hard Kate was afraid he’d give the little man whiplash. Eyes glossy with unshed tears, Pete said, “Thanks for everything, Doc!”

“Just try not to rattle her brains too much on the road, son.”

The doctor pointed at Kate. “You, young lady! You be careful.”

“I will,” she replied, but before she could say anything else, the doctor quickly shook her father’s hand and bustled off.

“He didn’t give
me
a chance to thank him,” she protested.

Her father gave her a sharp look. “Not endin’ up a patient in his hospital I expect’ll be thanks enough, lass.” He turned and lumbered up to the passenger door of the camper’s cab.

Pete gave Kate a hug, shook hands with Mac and headed for the driver’s door. Kate walked to her father’s open window. He reached out and stroked the side of her face, then cupped her cheek. She leaned into the palm of his big hand.

“Don’t worry, Dad,” she said softly. “I’ll be careful.”

“Yer a good lass, Kathleen.” As Pete started the engine, her father patted her on the head, then retracted his arm inside the window. The camper pulled slowly away.

Once again Kate felt like she was ten years old. “I love you, Daddy!” she called out.

“I love you, too, Katie girl,” drifted back to her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The meeting with Detective Phillips did not go so smoothly.

He was furious when he heard that Mary was on her way home. “You sent your sister back to California without telling me?”

Kate sat back in her chair. They were seated in a stark conference room. More likely an interrogation room, she thought as she struggled to tamp down her own anger. “I seem to recall saying something just a few hours ago about seeing my family off. What the hell did you think I was talking about?”

“I thought you meant your parents. The doc said your sister wouldn’t be able to travel for at least a couple more weeks, and you turn around and sneak her out of the state.”

“I didn’t sneak her anywhere. It wasn’t safe for her to be in Maryland.”

Rob started to say something but the detective cut him off. “I needed to re-interview her.”

“Why?” Kate asked. “She doesn’t remember anything from the day she was attacked.”

“And isn’t that convenient,” Phillips said.

“No, it’s not at all convenient. It’s retrograde amnesia, which is not unusual after a brain injury. It’s documented in her medical records.”

“Detective Phillips,” Rob said, “I’m not familiar with any statute that requires a crime victim to obtain permission from the police before returning to his or her home once released from the hospital.”

Phillips glared at Rob, then turned back to her. “Mrs. Huntington, I’m gonna have to
insist
you give me the names of your clients whose relatives might be out to get you.”

“And I’m going to have to refuse to do that. I’m bound by rules of confidentiality. I
cannot
just give you my clients’ names.”

“You’ll have to–”

“She can’t, Detective,” Rob said. “The rules of confidentiality for mental health professionals are more stringent than those for lawyers or doctors. She can’t even admit that someone
is
her client.”

“Well. I can’t exactly do my job, now can I, if I can’t even get the names of the suspects?”

“Look, Detective,” Kate was trying her best for a conciliatory tone, “Rob and I are going to go back through our mutual cases to see if there’s anybody related to one of them that might have a major grudge against us.”

“Anyone you come up with, you give me their names and let me do my job!” Phillips ordered.

Kate resisted the temptation to point out that if he’d been doing his job in the first place, her sister might not have ended up in the hospital.

Out in the parking lot, Kate’s ride was waiting. Mac leaned against the front fender of his Hummer, arms folded across his chest. He nodded toward Rob’s car several rows over, where Lou, Rob’s bodyguard, was sitting. “He your hired muscle? Not real subtle.”

“Made him, huh?” Rob said.

“Made both of ’em. Only ’cause I know what to look for. Most people don’t. That one’s good. Discreet.” He pointed with his chin toward Skip’s dark blue Explorer. “Truck parked where it ain’t obvious, but he can pull out quick if need be.” He paused. “Did a tour at Fort Meade, when I was Special Forces. Worked for Langley awhile too.”

To Marylanders, Fort Meade was shorthand for the National Security Agency, and Langley, Virginia was where the CIA’s main offices were located. Mac was letting Rob know that he had experience with covert operations.

“That was quite some time ago though,” Kate said.

“Kinda like ridin’ a bike, sweet pea. Not somethin’ ya forget. Where we havin’ this war council tonight?”

“Liz wants in on this so it has to be at my house,” Rob said.

“I’ll get us some carryout after work,” Kate offered. “We should be there about six.”

That evening, they found Liz–in shorts and a polo shirt that matched her green eyes–propped up in the corner of the Franklins’ family room sofa. Her legs were stretched out along its length. The cast on her right thigh had been replaced with a bright red brace. The lacings on it made it look like she was wearing a corset on her leg. Her left ankle and foot were now ensconced in a walking cast, the outer layer of which was a navy blue canvas boot with velcro straps. It was twice the size of regular footwear.

Kate was relieved to see that, despite the brace and ugly boot, she looked good. The bruises were gone from her face and her short, strawberry blonde hair had regained its luster.

“Mac, you devil! Come over here and give me a kiss,” Liz said in her booming voice, so incongruous coming from her petite body.

Mac grinned and went over to give her a peck on the cheek. They all took seats and the war council was convened.

An hour later they’d polished off the Chinese carryout and had the beginnings of a plan. Skip would continue shadowing Kate during the day, so Mac could check on his restaurant. He would take over in the evenings, sleeping on her living room sofa, his Glock within easy reach.

Rob and Kate would start digging through their files. Once they had some likely suspects identified, Mac would track them down to see what they had been up to lately.

Liz had pointed out that she could handle any computer research needed. She admitted to having some limited skills as a hacker.

Rob looked at her, appalled.

“They’re rusty. Haven’t used them in years,” Liz hastily added. “But desperate times call for desperate measures.”

Mac confessed to having a small arsenal in the back of his truck,
most
of it legally registered. Wednesday afternoon he would take Kate to his favorite spot, in the rural northern part of the county, for some target practice. She wasn’t enthusiastic about learning to shoot a gun, but Mac was adamant.

“Once we have the suspects narrowed down,” she said, “maybe we can figure out how to lure the killer out–”

“Too dangerous, sweet pea.”

She stifled a surge of irritation. “Mac, I can’t turn names over to the police until we’re fairly sure the person is the killer, and we can’t go on like this forever. Rob can’t afford the bodyguards. You’ve got a business to run. And I’m not willing to live in constant fear indefinitely.”