SUICIDAL SUSPICIONS: A Kate Huntington Mystery (The Kate Huntington Mystery Series Book 8) (30 page)

She struggled up into a sitting position, leaning back against her pillow and the headboard. “Smells wonderful,” she said, even though she couldn’t smell much through her damaged nose.

Billy followed his sister across the room, carefully balancing a cup on a saucer in his hands. “Coffee, Mommy,” he yelled.

Kate winced.

“Billy, you really need to work on keeping your voice down,” Skip said. “Mommy’s head is gonna hurt for a while.”

The kids made it to the bed with minor spillage. Skip took the tray from Edie and settled it in front of Kate. Then he deposited the coffee cup on it.

She picked it up and gratefully lifted it to her mouth, taking a sip. The inside of her lower lip stung when the hot liquid hit it.

That reminded her that she must look like hell.

“Can you bring me a mirror?” she whispered to Skip who had sat down on his side of the bed.

He shook his head. “Not a good idea, darlin’. Eat your breakfast.”

.

After breakfast she was ordered to stay in bed. She had no objection to that idea. Within minutes, she was sound asleep again.

She awoke with the nagging feeling that she was missing something.

Geez Louise, Kate, you never learn!
Her inner voice sounded suspiciously like Skip’s.

The bedroom door eased open and Skip moved quietly across the room toward their bathroom.

“Sweetheart,” she said, “when you get a chance, could you bring me my briefcase. I think I left it in the living room yesterday.”

He turned and raised his eyebrows at her, his lips pressed together.

“I brought some paperwork home. Might as well get it done while I’m bedridden.”

It was the truth, sort of. Josie’s journals were made of paper.

He frowned at her, but he went and got her briefcase.

For the rest of the morning, she alternated between reading and napping.

Liz called mid morning to see how she was doing.

Kate reassured her that she would be fine in due course. “Can you check out a Dr. Laurie Blake for me? She’s a veterinarian.”

“Sure, but Skip said Lieutenant Anderson was investigating now, unofficially at least.”

“She is, but… I don’t have anything concrete to tell her about this woman. I just had the gut feeling last night that she was hiding something. And you’re the best computer researcher I know.”

Liz chuckled. “And one that can be bought with a little flattery. I’ll see what I can find out.”

Kate went back to reading Josie’s journals.

When Skip brought her lunch, she started to hide the books under the covers, then remembered her new vow of transparency.

He put the lap tray off to one side and sat on the edge of the bed beside her. “Darlin’–”

She held up her hand. “There are still aspects of this investigation that only I will pick up on because I knew Josie. And the sooner her killer is caught, the sooner we can relax and get on with life. You can’t pay Manny to babysit me forever.”

“I was seriously considering it,” Skip said.

She wasn’t at all sure he was joking.

“Look, I’ll make you some promises, okay? One, I won’t investigate anything that doesn’t require my special knowledge of Josie and her life. Two, I won’t
actively
do anything but read,” she held up the journal, “unless I’m absolutely sure it’s safe, and even then I will definitely take Manny with me. I have no desire to have another close encounter with that thug who jumped me.”

“I got the impression last night that you were going to let go of this obsession.”

“I am. I will. There’s really only a couple things that would need my knowledge of Josie anyway, and once I’ve checked out those loose ends, I will gladly let Judith handle the rest.”

He gave her a skeptical look. “And these couple of things are?”

She sighed. “I honestly can’t remember. That’s part of why I’m re-reading her journals. But something’s nagging at my brain.”

He turned his head, stared off across the room. “I’ve tried to be patient…” His voice trailed off.

Her throat closed. She grabbed his hand. “You’ve been more than patient. More than I deserve.”

He looked back at her, his eyes muddy brown. “I want this crap out of our lives!”

She swallowed hard. “So do I.”

He looked away again. Then he took a deep breath and blew it out. “You’re right. That’s not gonna happen until this case is solved and the killer’s locked up.”

He pushed himself to a stand.

She hung onto his hand for an extra beat. “You’re too good to me.”

He looked down at her and a slow smile spread across his face. “Yes, I am, but I can’t help myself.” He leaned down and gently kissed the top of her head. “I love you.”

She returned the smile. “I love you too.”

He shook his head slightly. “Just don’t ever put me through another evening like last night.”

She shuddered. “Don’t worry. I won’t.”

.

By dinnertime, she had finished re-reading both journals. The older one had revealed no new insights. She’d stared at the suicide note for a few minutes, before skimming through the most recent journal again.

The niggling feeling that she was missing something was stronger. It was related somehow to the suicide note, she decided as she stared at it again. But she had no idea what exactly she wasn’t seeing.

The newer journal had reminded her that she never had caught up with Bill Coleman. She needed to tell Judith that he might know something useful.

~~~~~~~~

Skip didn’t even think about his appointment with Sister Michelina until two hours after it was supposed to have happened. He was a little surprised that the nun hadn’t called him when he didn’t show up. He’d given her his cell number, and she didn’t seem the type who stood for people not doing what they said they would do.

He checked his phone. No messages. That reinforced his earlier sense that she was not eager to see him.

Sure enough when he called her, she hemmed and hawed about rescheduling, claiming a busy schedule.

How busy can a retired nun be?

Finally, she agreed to see him on Wednesday afternoon.

He felt a little guilty when he got off the phone. He’d admonished Kate to turn everything over to Judith, but he was still pursuing this angle himself.

It was hardly the same thing, however. He was an experienced investigator and he carried a gun. He could certainly handle interviewing a nun!

And
he
hadn’t been the one who’d been attacked at knife point.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Kate was once again served breakfast in bed on Sunday, but by mid-morning she was tired of being prone. Moving slowly to keep her skull from coming apart, she headed for the bathroom. She showered, carefully avoiding getting the back of her head wet. The doctor had said the dressing on her wound could be removed after a couple of days, and then she could wash her hair.

She could hardly wait. In addition to the pounding headache, her scalp itched like crazy.

Her reflection in the mirror wasn’t quite as scary as the day before. But she still had very little color in her face, unless you counted the vivid bruise on her forehead where she’d connected with the pavement after being knocked out.

She slowly pulled on jeans and a loose shirt, and then made her way to the kitchen.

She stopped short in the doorway. Maria sat at the table, sipping a cup of tea. “You didn’t go to church this morning?” Kate asked.

Maria looked up. “I not want to leave you alone, and Skip, he really want to go.”

Hm, wonder what that means.

They attended church fairly regularly, but they weren’t fanatics about it. Maria, on the other hand, was a devout Catholic. She never missed Sunday Mass if she could help it.

Maria blessed her with a smile. “I tink he have
mucho
thanksgiving prayers to say.”

Kate pursed her lips. Her housekeeper had been hanging around Skip too long. She was taking on his mind-reading abilities.

“You want some tea?” Maria stood up. “Water already hot. I get for you.”

Kate’s protest that she could get it herself died on her lips. Her legs were feeling wobbly. “Yes, thanks.” She pulled out a chair and sat at the table.

Maria returned with a steaming mug and the jar of honey.

Kate added a dollop of honey to her tea and stirred. “So how are things going with Eduardo?”

Maria gave a slight shake of her head. “I not sure.”

“You still haven’t given him an answer?”

“No. I say I need some time apart to tink, but he keep calling me.”

“I thought you had a date Friday night?” Kate suppressed a shudder. If only Maria hadn’t been out, then her children wouldn’t have been subjected to the trauma of being dragged to that parking lot.

Maria sighed. “He keep pushing. So I finally go to his place for a while Friday. We had dinner with de kids.”

“How do you get along with them?”

“Fine. Dey good kids.”

“So what’s the issue?”

“Issue?” Maria gave her a quizzical look that said she didn’t understand the word in that context.

“The problem. What’s making you hesitate?”

Maria shook her head again. “I not know. Everything fine ’til he ask me to marry him.”

“Are you sure you love him?” Kate said then quickly added, “Feel free to tell me to butt out if I’m getting too nosy.”

Maria gave her another small smile. “
Sí
, I do love him. He very nice man.”

Kate waited a beat. “But?”

Maria took a sip of her tea. “Before, sometimes we go out, sometimes we with kids, but he pay
mucho
attention to me. He not neglect his kids, but he, how you say, had his eyes on me?”

“He was focused on you.”

“
Sí
. Now he focused on kids. It like we married already.”

Kate stomach twisted. It was what she’d feared from the beginning, but she took no pleasure in being right. “He’s taking you for granted?”

“Not all de time…” Maria trailed off.

“Do you think he loves you?”

Maria had her mug halfway to her mouth. She lowered it to the table without taking a sip. “I tink dat is de problem.” Her accent was thickening, a sign that her emotions were stirred up. Sometimes it was the only sign, since Maria was good at hiding her feelings.

She lapsed into silence without elaborating.

“What do you mean?” Kate prompted.

“I tink he like me but maybe not love me. I tink maybe he mostly look for a
madre
for his children.”

Sadly, I think so too.

Maria went quiet again. This time, Kate let the silence settle around them.

“We get along good. Kids are great. I could have good life with them. But I wonder what we have when kids are grown and leave de house.”

Kate was glad that Maria was really thinking this through. She wasn’t nearly as naive about love and marriage as Kate had thought.

“When I tink about dat, then I wonder if I would be… how you say, when get more and more angry over time?”

“Resentful.”

“
Sí
, I be resentful, because I would have missed out on Billy and Edie’s growing-up time.”

“May I make a suggestion?”

“
Sí
.”

“If you love him, then talk to him about all this. Tell him you wonder if he is looking more for a mother for his children than for a mate for himself. Tell him your fears about the future.”

Maria turned her head away, stared across the room at the refrigerator. “Dat not easy. In my country, men and women no talk about such things. You either love and say, ‘
Sí
, I marry you’ or you decide not love and not marry.”

“But wouldn’t you talk about problems after you’re married?”

“Not too much. Mostly you just put up wid each other. You have married, for better or worse.”

Kate picked up Maria’s hand and held it between both of hers. “But talking about it can make it better, and not talking about things can make it worse.”

Maria nodded. “Okay, I try talking to him.” She pulled her hand loose and rose from the table. “You want more tea?”

“No, but could you bring me my cell phone? It’s in the bedroom.” Walking that distance, short as it was, felt beyond her right now.

When Maria returned with her phone, Kate scrolled through her contacts. Judith Anderson had given Skip her cell phone number Friday night, and he had programmed it into Kate’s contacts yesterday. “So it’s really easy to pass along information,” he’d said, giving her a hard look. The message had been clear–let Judith handle the investigating.

“Way ahead of you,” Judith replied, when Kate suggested that William Coleman, aka Father Bill, might know something about Josie’s childhood that related to the case. “I’ve already talked to everybody related to St. Bartholomew’s, past and present.”

“Did he have anything useful to say?”

“Nada. Said he barely remembered Josie, that she was a cute kid, but that’s all he could recall about her.”

“He should have crossed paths with her again later,” Kate said. “He was at the high school she attended. I think he was in the administration.”

“Hmm, he didn’t say anything about that. What’s you’re take on that janitor?”

Kate moved in her chair. Pain shot down her back. “Ouch.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, in addition to a head five times its normal size, my back is sore where that bastard kneeled on me. The janitor’s description matches a face in one of Josie’s dreams and in some flashbacks she used to have.”

“Yeah, Skip told me all that.”

Kate took a sip of her now tepid tea. “He might very well have abused Josie in some way. He may have been the man who, quote ‘made her take her clothes off.’”

“Could he be the guy who attacked you?” Judith asked.

“Quite possibly. I didn’t see the guy’s face, but his voice was gravelly and his breath stank.”

“Gravel voice matches,” Judith said. “I didn’t get close enough to him to smell his breath, but he’s a bit unkempt in general. And of course, he disavowed all knowledge of you or Josephine Hartin.”