The Reunion (13 page)

“Do you travel a lot? Where?”

“Frequently and all over. One of the reasons I’m here is because I needed a change of scenery. The reunion sounded like a good idea.”

Ray snapped his phone shut and walked back, his face grim.

“What’s wrong?” Zach asked.

Meghan was disappointed when he dropped his arms even though the warmth lingered.

“That was the coroner. He wanted to bring me up to date on the preliminaries.”

“He’s doing the autopsy now?” Zach inquired.

Ray nodded. “We have a lot of people who will haul ass out of Grandview tomorrow morning. He won’t have tox screens for a few days, but he can give cause of death and any other pertinent information by morning.” He paused. “I was right. The bruising we saw is from someone leaning a knee on Mrs. Peterson’s back as she struggled. The marks on her torso are from the weight of that person pressing her into the rocks.”

“And her legs?” Meghan probed with a shudder. She didn’t want to think about how terrified and desperate poor Annabelle must have been in those last few seconds.

“Superficial scrapes from being thrown into the pond. He found bits and pieces of rock imbedded in the wounds. Same with her fingernails. Preliminary cause of death is drowning. He found foam in the mouth and nasal passages. Classic signs of drowning.” He paused again and ran his hand through his hair.

Meghan glanced at Zach. “What else did he say?”

“He found a couple of burn marks about two and a half centimeters apart on the back of her neck. Her hair hid them.”

“Burn marks? You mean from a burning cigarette?” Zach said.

“No. I mean from the electrodes of a stun gun.”

“A stun gun!” Meghan exclaimed.

Zach nodded. “That would explain why she didn’t fight back until the last. She couldn’t.”

“So it would seem,” the sheriff added in a grim tone.

Ray switched off the lights and the three of them walked back down the darkened path. Meghan assimilated the information. A stun gun. Even the image sent a chill racing along her arms, causing the hair to rise.

Then a thought occurred to her.
I wonder what the killer will do now that he knows Suzanne is alive.

****

Suzanne had just about had it with Dave Coryell. He was hammered and rambling on about his company, the mining interests, and his ex-wife being a major league bitch. She could have told him that. All ex-wives were bitches.

The bartender wandered over. “He’s not driving, is he?”

“No, we’re staying in the hotel, but bring him a cup of coffee, will you?”

“You, too?”

“No, just keep the cranberry juice flowing in a martini glass.”

She’d made that request several drinks ago. She wanted Dave loaded, not herself. He never noticed the switch. Her strategy had worked too well. Drunk, he was no use to her. Now, she had to sober him up.

“I’m—I’m still not sure where the headquarters are located. All I got is a website, but I think it’s in Switzerland somewhere. Probably Zurich.”

He slurred his words to the point of incomprehension. Not that it mattered to Suzanne—she wasn’t about to invest. The bartender brought the coffee and her cranberry juice.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Coffee, Dave.”

“Coffee? I don’t need no damned coffee. You think I can’t hold my liquor?” he demanded in a belligerent tone.

Not tonight at any rate
.

“I was just thinking about later. I like doing it with an active participant. Remember the old days?”

He grinned and picked up the cup, blew on the contents, slopping some onto the bar, then took a cautious sip.

“Heh-heh! Remember that time when you showed up on the field after practice wearing a trench coat and a smile? Underneath you were naked as a jaybird. We made it on a table in the equipment room with the rest of the team only a room away.” He laughed loudly. “Those were the days, hey, kiddo?”

“Yeah, yeah, we really rocked the joint.”

“Yeah, you were great. So was Tami. You ever make it with Eddie?”

Asshole—double asshole. I should let you drink until you fall off the stool
.

“No, I never did Eddie. He wasn’t my type. On the other hand, everyone was Tami’s type.”

Dave threw back his head and hooted with laughter again. “That’s for sure!”

Someone stopped next to Dave and draped his suit coat back over the bar stool.

“This was on the floor,” Dan Masterson said, sending a hard glare toward Suzanne.

“Oh, yeah, thanks, buddy,” Dave slurred.

Dan moved on to another table.

Officious clod. Wish it had been him in that fish pond.

The crowd had thinned in the last half an hour leaving most of the barstools empty and only half the tables occupied. Eileen Raymond—recovered from her earlier shock—held court over in the corner. The former class secretary waved her arms, and then clasped her fists to her chest. Suzanne shook her head.

Probably giving a blow by blow description of her role in the drama. No doubt disappointed it wasn’t me
.

“Enjoy it while you can, honey. Your fifteen minutes of fame will be gone in a few days,” she muttered.

“What?” Dave demanded in a booming voice.

“Nothing. I was just thinking out loud about how soon I could transfer the money you need.”

Dave’s face brightened. He finished the coffee and she signaled for a refill.

“Really? You’ll let me have it?”

You have no idea how much I’d love to let you have it
.

“I’ll have to discuss it with my financial advisors, but I don’t see a problem.”

She was tired of this phony mining stock crap. It was a scam all the way. And for the life of her, she didn’t know what else to ask him. And where the hell was Zach? He and the testament to controlled diet plans had been gone forever. Had they sneaked off upstairs?

The son of a bitch had better not be getting any while I’m down here stuck with Dave the Drunken Moron
.

The second cup of coffee arrived along with a glass of ice. Suzanne spooned a couple of cubes into the brew. Dave smiled and patted her shoulder, then let his hand trail down to her breast.

“Pretty soon, baby.”

“Good. I can hardly wait.”

Dave swallowed half the cup. At this rate he’d be semi-sober in a few minutes and ready to rock and roll. He’d already told her what she—and the cops—needed to know. It was time to pull up stakes and get the hell out. She had no idea where Zach was, but if he and Meghan were still downstairs, she intended to find them.

Suzanne downed the fake cosmopolitan and contemplated her next move. She had to make an exit but at the same time keep Dave in the bar sucking down coffee.

Where do I go? My room? No, first place he’d look, and I don’t want a soused Dave Coryell pounding on my hotel room door demanding sex
.

She didn’t even have a car. Dave had driven.

He finished the second cup and called out, “Bartender, another one.” He turned and gazed at her empty glass, a smug smile on his lips. “How about you? Another drink?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll have more of the same.” The bartender nodded. “Uh, Dave, would you excuse me for a moment?”

“Where you going?”

“The little girls’ room, silly. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She gave him a peck on the cheek, picked up her purse, and slid from the stool. “Now, you wait right here, okay?”

“Hurry it up. You women always take forever in the can,” he muttered.

Suzanne threaded her way between tables and paused in the doorway to look back. Dave’s eyes were trained on her, so she blew him a kiss and waved, then exited.

How long would he wait before he realized he’d been stiffed? Would he even remember she’d been with him?

Yeah, he’ll remember. Men always remember promises of sex. And I’ll bet his pillow talk would be all about mining investments, if he didn’t fall asleep first
.

Charlie Crocker, bless his heart, had never rolled over and snored.

Suzanne spent the next fifteen minutes hiding in a stall of the mezzanine level ladies room until she was sure even Dave had given up. He’d be pissed, but she didn’t give a crap.

Opening the restroom door, she poked her head out and gazed up and down the hallway, then breathed a sigh of relief. Not a soul in sight. She trotted down the stairs and across the lobby, tossing a quick glance into the bar as she passed. He was gone.

Suzanne hurried toward the ballroom—and Zach had damned well better be there. But he wasn’t. The deputies had released most of the tables. Less than half a dozen remained.

She whirled and retraced her steps to the lobby. The same people occupied the seating area. Zach and Meghan weren’t with them. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw Dave stagger out of the men’s room and toward the elevators. He didn’t look in her direction, but she dodged behind a potted plant anyway, remaining hidden until he entered the lift and the doors closed.

Suzanne stepped out and breathed a sigh of relief. If she didn’t find Zach soon, she was going to bed. The hell with him.

He asks me to question Dave, and then doesn’t stick around for me to tell him what I’ve learned. Unless, of course, the son of a bitch dumped me.
Anger flickered along her nerves.
Why are all men assholes?

Screw going to bed. She wanted to give Zach and that bitch Meghan a piece of her mind. No one, but no one, dumped Suzanne.

She strode across the lobby with long, angry strides.

****

“Do you think Suzanne is still in danger?” Zach asked.

“Absolutely,” Meghan replied.

“But surely the killer knows there’s no way he’ll get the jewels now,” Ray commented.

“He’ll just wait for another opportunity. Let’s face it, Suzanne may take precautions, but what if the killer is Dave. Would she fear him?”

“The safest place for Suzanne is locked in a hotel room, preferably not the same one as now,” Zach added.

“Not a bad idea,” Ray said. “I’ll ask the hotel if they can do it without any fanfare.”

They reached the terrace steps and ascended. In contrast to earlier, the area was deserted. Meghan wondered if people were too afraid to venture forth or just too damned tired.

She re-entered the ballroom with the two men. Several tables of people still awaited interrogation.

“Guess my deputies are a little slow. I’d better lend a hand. I’ll talk to you later.” The sheriff strode to table and took a seat, while Zach steered her toward the doors.

“I suppose we should rescue Suzanne from Dave,” he commented.

A dart of jealousy stabbed in her gut. Was Zach attracted to the redhead?
Or maybe just bored with me?
Could be he found all my theories ignorant. Zach’s intelligent. Perhaps ignorance turns him off. But if that’s the case, why mess with Suzanne?

“Why bother with her?”

He shrugged. “I’d like to know if she managed to pry any information out of him. What kind of game were the two of you playing earlier?”

“The kind of game men never understand.”

Zach chuckled. She liked his laugh, deep yet sexy at the same time. It made for a potent combination. To her annoyance, her hormones elevated a notch or two.

“Don’t tell me it had to do with me and one-upmanship. Are points awarded?”

She whirled to face him, aghast and more than a little appalled that he’d nailed it.

“Well, of all the conceited…”

“Where the hell have you two been?”

She turned back sharply to find Suzanne glaring at both of them from narrowed eyes with her fists balled on her hips.

“Busy,” Meghan snapped. She decided the redhead’s attitude was both irritating and satisfying at the same time. Meghan liked the idea that she, the former fat girl, aroused the green-eyed monster in a beautiful woman, but also found the outburst unbecoming and distasteful.

Jealousy—almost as corrosive as hate.
Her mind flipped back twenty years to the taunts she’d endured at the hand of kids like Suzanne and Tami. She was shocked at how deep her resentment and hatred had run then. Meghan was even more shocked to realize she’d been the jealous one a few moments earlier. She bit her lip, embarrassed at allowing the emotion to creep into her psyche. She’d always considered herself above such thinking.

“Don’t give me that, sister.” Suzanne turned her attention to Zach and batted her big blue eyes, then curled her arm through his. “Zach, you left me all alone with Dave. He was drunk and boring.” Her lips formed into a pout.

“Oh, for the love of God,” Meghan began.

Zach held up his hand. “Hold it, ladies. Can we call a truce for the moment? We went with the sheriff to look at the scene of the crime.”

The pouting lips and purring tone disappeared. “Why? What did you expect to find there? The cops have been all over it.”

“True, but the sheriff thought I might remember more details if I went back.”

“And did you?”

“A few. Let’s sit down,” he invited indicating a vacated table near the dance floor. “What did you find out from Dave? Where is he?”

Zach pulled out her chair and eased Suzanne down, then did the same for Meghan. She sat, relieved it didn’t sound as though he wanted to tell the redhead anything that had passed in the garden.

“I have no idea where he is. I told him I was going to the ladies room and ditched him in the bar.”

“Did he say anything useful?” Zach said.

Suzanne spent the next fifteen minutes telling them what Dave had told her.

“He found Annabelle and just left her there?” Meghan exclaimed. “Who the hell does something like that?”
Someone guilty of murder?

“So he says. He was pissed as hell at me and afraid someone would think he’d done it. Dave’s a lot of things, but he’s not a killer.”

“But what was he doing before he went into the garden?” Zach asked.