Tacked to Death (7 page)

"Perfect." She put her face in her
hands.

"Don't cry on me. I don't do so good
with tear jags."

"Out of all the cousins you guys seem
to have, there's no criminal defense attorney?"

"Oh yeah, there is. That'd be Pauly,
but he's out in Chicago, you know. But look, I can get you out of
this. Like I said, it don't take a genius to see they got a weak
case. We just gotta get your bail posted."

"Right." Anthony Pellegrino may not
have been a criminal defense attorney, but he was all she had right
now.

"Okay, so here's the deal. They got
your prints on the murder weapon. But it was your mallet, so they
gotta prove you had time. They got a motive with this thing,
though."

"Uh-huh, me sleeping with Sterling. Do
you know who told them such a thing?"

Pellegrino looked down at his notes.
"Do you know a Lucia Sorvino?"

"What? Pepe's teenage
daughter?"

"Says here she's twenty."

"I know who she is. We're not friends.
But she's served me a platter of lasagna from time to time at her
father's restaurant. I had a little disagreement yesterday morning
with her father before the event. She was there and her brother
showed up. I don't even really know the girl. Why would she say
something like that?"

"I don't know, but the police have it
on file."

"This is craziness!"

"I'm going to level with you. This
Peters dude, he's a jerk, a real uptight cop, and I think he'd like
to wrap this thing up because Taber was from a highfalutin family
who lives up in Santa Barbara. He don't want no heat, so if you
look like a good suspect, then that's the angle he's gonna pursue
for now. But Joe says you got a friend here in the
department."

She nodded. "Jude Davis. He's a
homicide detective."

"He might be able to help us out. Have
you spoken with him?"

"No. He's on a cruise with his
daughter. He won't be back until Friday."

"Huh. Five days. Okay, so while we're
waiting for your friend to come back from his vacation, there is a
hearing arranged for first thing this morning. The judge will
likely set bond, but it won't be cheap."

"How much?"

"Murder case? You're looking at a
quarter mil."

"Two hundred fifty thousand dollars! I
don't have that kind of cash right now."

"You only have to come up with ten
percent of it."

Michaela sighed. She didn't even have
that amount of liquid assets at the moment. She'd put most of her
cash from her inheritance into building up the autism riding center
and for the special equipment needed, along with the extra horses
she'd bought. The money that hadn't gone into the center she'd
invested in the tack shop, and she was working on just enough
capital to keep her business running and pay her bills. Oh God, she
couldn't turn back now. She'd been down the road toward bankruptcy
a few short years ago, and she refused to go back there. "That's
still a lot."

"What about your parents, friends,
property?"

She cringed at any of those thoughts.
Definitely not her parents. She couldn't ask any friends. She
wouldn't do that to them. But her property? Uncle Lou's place. That
was her only option. "My ranch. If I have to."

"Good. I talked with your friend Camden
and had her pack an outfit for you for this morning. By the time
they take you back to your cell, the clothes should be
there."

Her eyes stung with tears. Her cell.
The one hour she spent inside the jail cell in the wee hours she'd
paced back and forth, her mind full of rage, fear, and shock. Then
Peters had come for her and she'd been in the interrogation room
ever since.

Pellegrino smiled warmly at her. "It's
gonna be okay. We'll get through the morning. You'll be home by
noon. That's my job, and after that we'll get to work on your
defense and I will get to work on these clowns here and continue to
remind them that everything they have is circumstantial and
weak."

How was he going to work on anything?
He was a tax attorney, for crying out loud, but she didn't have it
in her to bring that up right now. All she wanted was to get the
hell out of there. She nodded and tried to smile back in return,
but she wasn't sure at all how she was going to make it through the
morning.

Eight

It wasn’t twenty-five grand that got
Michaela out of jail but rather fifty, and the thought of
leveraging Uncle Lou's place made her ill. Apparently the judge
thought she was a flight risk because she had the financial means
to "get away." Please! Where would she go? She had a barn filled
with horses that were family to her, a handful of children she gave
riding lessons to whom she adored, parents who lived two miles from
her that she saw at least once a week, and a circle of friends she
couldn't live without. She almost laughed when the old curmudgeon
of a judge brought up the idea that she might flee. It was as
ridiculous as the notion that she had been sleeping with Sterling.
She had every intention of speaking with Lucia Sorvino to find out
why in the world she was spreading such vicious lies. That girl had
some explaining to do. Didn't she know what rumors could do to a
person's life? Try on destroy it for size!

Joe showed up at the courthouse to take
her home, while her new attorney shook her hand and said he'd be in
touch with her by the end of the day. "I'd go with you, but I want
to see what I can line up for you before we talk again. Joey, take
care of her.""Always do." Joe opened the passenger door to his
minivan. Once he was behind the wheel, he looked over at her. "What
the hell happened, girl?"

"I wish I knew. One minute I'm riding
in the match, the next I find Sterling dead in my store, then when
it's all over with, I head home and just as I've finally fallen
asleep, it sounds like a herd of my horses are trying to break the
door down, and outside stand Starsky and Hutch."

"At least you haven't lost your sense
of humor."

"I think I'm still in shock. Look, I'm
in trouble, Joe. I can see it in Detective Peters's eyes. He thinks
that I did this and so does that woman cop. I can't go to jail. I
didn't kill anyone. And by the way, thanks for sending in
Anthony…but a tax attorney?" Michaela felt something under her on
the car seat and picked up a half-eaten cheeseburger, which she'd
sat on. "What in the…"

"Sorry. I know, the kids. They got a
problem picking up after themselves. We're working on
it."

She spotted a few French fries on the
floorboard and pointed. Joe glanced down. "Throw in a Coke and I
might have a meal."

"That Joe Jr.! Anyway, of course you
didn't kill no one. I've known you since we was kids, Mickey. I
know Anthony isn't exactly what you need. But it was the best I
could do on short notice, and he did get your bail
posted."

"Yeah, he did do that."

"You could eat a little more these
days. I'd tell you to eat that burger but I don't know how long
it's been here. Why don't we stop and get a bite?"

"It does look partially dehydrated.
Eating isn't always a priority for me. I've been busy. And right
now I just want to get home and shower."

"Never too busy to eat." He rubbed his
large belly. "I think you get overwhelmed with all you got going on
and you are the last person you take care of. You handle the
horses, the kids at the center, that crazy broad Camden you live
with, and then some. You need some you time."

She smiled at his comment. Ah, the big
bro she never had—technically, because Joe had become everything a
big brother is for a sister. She knew it drove Jude nuts that they
were such good friends. He liked Joe, but his family ties made Jude
uncomfortable. They didn't bother Michaela, who had seen plenty of
Joe's softer side. She'd seen him with his little girl, Gen,
Michaela's first autistic student and the reason she'd agreed to
open the riding center in the first place. She adored the little
girl, who loved to be around horses. No, she was not about to lose
any of it—her animals, her friends, the kids, her ranch. She'd
fight whoever had set her up. "We've got to get a handle on this.
You and I both know the cops won't help me."

"What about Jude? The guy is crazy for
you."

"He's on a cruise with his little
girl."

"Oh."

"Oh is right, and he won't be back for
five days. I can't wait for five days while Peters attempts to burn
me at the stake. I've got to find out who did this, who murdered
Sterling Taber."

"Oh no. I see where this is
going."

"It's not like we've never been down
this road before. We make a good team. You know we do, and this
time I really need your help."

He didn't comment for a second, just
sort of frowned, then nodded. "Where do we start?"

She sighed. "By questioning that
Sorvino brat. Pepe's daughter, Lucia." Joe turned the corner into
Michaela's ranch. A slight sound escaped from her lips. "Oh my
God."

"You can say that again. I don't think
we start with Lucia."

Nine

A local TV news van was parked out in
front, with a blonde-headed woman reporter all miked up and ready
to interview, along with her cameraman. It looked as though Camden
and Dwayne were trying to chase them off the property, but they
were being completely ignored. Now they turned their attention to
the oncoming minivan. "This isn't good," Joe said. "I can run them
over."

"No!"

"Just kidding. Maybe I can flip a U-ee
and we'll make a run for it."

"No, don't do that! What do they
want?"

"I think we are about to find out. Keep
your head down and walk to the house. I'll get rid of them." Joe
parked the van and got out first, asking everyone to back away. He
did his best to keep his hulking self in front of her while the
reporter shouted obnoxious questions at her: "Did you kill Mr.
Taber? Were you in love with Sterling Taber? What about your riding
center?"

Michaela turned around and faced the
reporter—a statuesque blonde with a crisp navy suit and
heels.

"What are you doing?" Joe
asked.

"I'm telling them the truth. For the
record, I barely knew Mr. Taber. I did not kill him. My riding
center will remain open. I ask that you respect my property and my
privacy and please leave."

She turned around and headed toward her
front door. The cameraman and reporter ran in front of her and were
now in her face. The reporter shoved the microphone at her. "How
did you meet Mr. Taber? Can you tell us about the mallet?" She
tried to push the camera out of the way, which caused her to trip
and nearly fall as she reached the front porch step.

Joe lost it at that point. "Get the
hell out of here, or I will call the police. You are on private
property and Ms. Bancroft will charge you with trespassing. She's
made a statement, and has kindly asked you to leave. I won't be so
kind. Get the hell out of here!" he bellowed.

One look at Joe and the newspeople
understood he was serious. Michaela finally made it through her
front door and heard her phone ringing. Joe eyed her as she reached
for it. "Let me answer it." He grabbed the phone before she could.
"No!" he yelled, slamming it down. He looked at Michaela, who set
her purse on the kitchen counter. "Reporter."

"Ah. Great! As if I'm suddenly like
Angelina Jolie adopting a new kid. At least instead of making
People magazine's most beautiful list, I'll only have the honor of
making Indio's most wanted list. Just what I need—star status.
Yeah. Great. Why do they have any interest in me?"

Camden walked in with Dwayne like a lap
dog at her heels. Michaela still needed to have that one-on-one
with her, and the sooner the better. She had to get to the bottom
of what Camden had said after finding Sterling's body.

"The media likes a juicy story, and you
are apparently it," Camden said. "Remember that Sterling was voted
most eligible bachelor by the women's league of social activities
in the desert."

"Oh, what an honor. He was a regular
Colin Farrell." Camden made a face at her. "I didn't do jack. I'm a
horse trainer. I teach children how to ride. I barely knew that
guy, and now this. And I plan to find out who did it. Speaking of
that 'most eligible bachelor' thing, weren't he and Juliet Mitchell
a couple?"

Camden shrugged. "I wouldn't
know."

Sure.

The phone rang again and again Joe
answered. "What? No, of course not. Now listen, Rhonda, you've got
to be reasonable here. That's ludicrous. Yes." He
paused.

Michaela turned her attention to Joe.
Rhonda was the woman who headed up the autism society, had been the
one to help Michaela get a license, and worked with her on teaching
the kids. She had recommended many children to her, and Michaela
was now working regularly with seven children, including Joe's
daughter, Gen.

"Okay." Joe sighed. Oh, this could not
be good. "Yes. No. I'm sure that she'll understand and we will get
all of this worked out." He hung up.