Tonight You're Mine (20 page)

“And then
hanged
him and put on a tape of Paul playing at Carnegie Hall?”

“All right, I don't know what happened. Let the cops figure it out. That's their job. But
please
stop babbling about Paul Dominic. We're dealing with a real, live person here, Nicole, someone who means you great harm.”

“And you don't think Paul means me harm?”

Carmen looked as if she were going to scream. “Only if it's from beyond the grave. He's
dead
, Nicole. Get that through your head. Paul Dominic is
dead
.”

But he's not, Nicole thought stubbornly, shifting her gaze. Paul is just as alive as you and I.

2

In spite of everything, Nicole was determined to teach her two afternoon classes. “The police said they have nothing else to ask me now, and I've already had a week off,” she explained to Carmen when she objected. “I went back yesterday. Now I can't call in and ask for
another
day off. I can't risk this job, Carmen, not with everything so unsettled between Roger and me, and his barely helping out monetarily!”

“Okay, settle down,” Carmen soothed. “Get everything you and Shelley will need for the next couple of days and let's get the hell away from this house. We'll go to your mother's.”

“Oh, great,” Nicole moaned. “I hate having to face her before I go to school. I'll be too rattled to teach.”

“Then my place.”

“No,” Nicole said quickly. “It's too far away. I'll ask Mr. Wingate if I can change at his house. Tonight I'll stay at Mom's.”

“Who's Mr. Wingate?”

“The elderly man who's standing around. He's my only real friend on the street. I don't think he'll mind.”

She was right. Newton Wingate seemed thrilled to be of service. He led Nicole and Carmen to his neat little house, tactfully kept the questions to a minimum, then insisted on fixing coffee and chicken-salad sandwiches before Nicole got dressed for school.

Later, as Nicole took her second shower of the day, she tried to think of what lessons she would present to her classes, but her mind had gone blank. A composition class and a creative writing class lay ahead of her. Writing assignments, she thought suddenly. When all else failed, an English teacher could always rely on a writing assignment, even if it wasn't planned.

When she stepped out of the shower and dried off, she spotted a set of scales. She stepped on to see that she'd lost five pounds in the last nine days. Looking in the mirror, she saw cheeks slightly sunken beneath the bones and dull eyes. How much longer could she go on at this rate? She would have to force herself to eat more, maybe even see a doctor and get a prescription for tranquilizers, because she couldn't get sick now. She'd meant what she said to Carmen about her job. Losing it would be a disaster.

For today she'd chosen a lightweight pearl-gray turtleneck sweater to hide the bruises around her neck, bruises left by a strange creature named Izzy Dooley who thought he was a vampire and ended up dead in her backyard. She slipped on the rest of her maroon suit, noticing that the waistband was loose, and brushed her hair, pushing it behind her ears, not bothering with styling.

“Why, you look like a new woman!” Mr. Wingate beamed when she returned to the living room.

“I look like a slightly improved woman. I'm afraid my students can't expect a very dynamic teacher.”

“As I remember, I was always glad when occasionally the teacher wasn't gung ho,” he said.

Nicole smiled. “I'm just glad I only have to get through two more days before the weekend.”

But at the moment, those two days seemed like two weeks.

3

Nicole's in-class writing assignments elicited groans from her students. She tried to explain how they tied in with the work they'd been doing in class, but she had a feeling some of the students knew she was creating busy work.

She returned to her office with a stack of papers that would have to be graded over the weekend. A wonderful thought. At the moment, she couldn't imagine being able to concentrate on them.

Now her main worry was finding a place to stay tonight. “You can't put off calling Mom forever,” she told herself aloud. She dialed her mother's number and was surprised when Phyllis answered breathlessly. “Nicole! What a coincidence. I was just about to call you!”

“Is something wrong?” Nicole asked cautiously, wondering if somehow her mother had found out about the murders.

“It certainly is! I've been feeling extremely drowsy most of the time. This morning I had the furnace checked and there's a carbon monoxide leak!”

“Good lord, Mom, you could have died in your sleep.”

“I know. I've told Clifton several times the past few weeks we needed a carbon monoxide detector, but he just ignores me.” She stopped abruptly, as if she just remembered her husband was no longer around to nag or blame.

“Can they fix the leak today?” Nicole asked quickly.

“Heavens, no! They have to replace the furnace. You should know that.” Nicole smiled faintly. Her mother no doubt was absorbing everything the maintenance men were telling her, men spouting it back as if she'd known it all her life.

“Are you going to a hotel?”

“I'd planned to, but then Kay came along and very kindly offered to let me stay with her.”

“And you're going to?”

“I hear that note of surprise in your voice. You thought I'd decline immediately because of how much I value my privacy. But I've decided it would be good for me to spend a couple of days with Kay.” Her voice softened. “After all, we won't have her too much longer.”

Nicole heard her mother's voice tightening. Why couldn't you have reached out to Kay before this? she thought. You both needed friendship. But both women were reserved. It took something drastic to force one to make the first move.

“I hope I don't react too badly to Kay's cats,” her mother was saying. “I'm allergic to cats, you know.”

“Mom, the allergist told you
years
ago you don't have animal allergies. You made that up because you didn't want me to have a pet, then ended up believing it.”

“That allergist didn't know what he was talking about,” her mother said firmly. “And speaking of mangy animals, how is that rough diamond of yours?”

“Jesse? Well, at the moment he's MIA.”

“Missing? For how long?”

“Since last night.”

“You
must
find him, Nicole,” Phyllis said urgently.

Surprised by her mother's vehemence, Nicole said, “I thought you didn't like Jesse.”

“Well, I suppose he does have a certain brand of charm. Your father certainly thought so. But it's Shelley I'm concerned about She loves that little ragamuffin. I don't want her suffering another loss.”

Nicole's voice thickened. “I don't, either, Mom.”

“Are you about to cry over Jesse or is something else wrong?” her mother asked sharply. “I never did ask why you called.”

“I was just checking in.”

“That's a new one. And not very convincing. You made up better excuses when you were a teenager.”

Nicole blinked fast, trying to clear her blurring vision. “I'm just feeling a little down. I thought Shelley and I might spend the night with you, but I guess that's out.”

There was a moment of silence. Why did everything have to be so awkward between her and her mother? Nicole thought. She wished she could just spill every trouble and fear thrumming through her being, then bury her head in her mother's lap and cry. But they'd never had that kind of relationship. Phyllis would either overreact and say she and Shelley needed to be in protective police custody, or she'd go rigid in a way that would make her father, the general, proud. Be a good soldier, Nicole, she'd heard Phyllis say a hundred times. Keep your troubles to yourself.

“You're perfectly welcome to drop by Kay's if you're lonely,” her mother said in a businesslike voice. “I'm sure she'd enjoy it.”

“No, we'll be fine.”

“All right, whatever you want.” There was another uncomfortable pause before Phyllis said, “I love you very much, Nicole. You've always been my angel.”

Nicole was too shocked to answer. She could only remember her mother saying two or three times in her whole life that she loved her, and she'd never called her by any endearments. “I love you, too, Mom,” she managed, “but I think you've breathed too much carbon monoxide.” Immediately she could have kicked herself. Who was worse at expressing affection? Her or her mother? “Have fun at Kay's. I'll talk to you, soon.”

Well, staying at her mother's was out. It probably hadn't been a good idea anyway. The woman had already withstood too much stress. Then a thought hit her. Her mother wouldn't have to know about the murders at all today if Nicole could control the situation.

Quickly she flipped through her Rolodex until she found Kay Holland's phone number. The woman answered on the second ring.

“Why, hello, Nikki!” she said in a pleased voice. “I was just making up the spare bedroom. Have you spoken with your mother?”

“Yes. She told me about the furnace and your kind invitation.”

“Well, I can tell you, you could have knocked me over with a feather when she accepted. I'm just glad the gas didn't build up in the night. It could have killed her.”

“I know. It's frightening. Kay, I have a favor to ask you.”

“Anything; Nikki, you know that.”

“There was some trouble at my house last night. It will be on the evening television news and in the evening newspaper.”

“Oh, Nikki!” Kay cried. “What happened?”

“I'm in my office and I don't want to go into it right now.”

“Are you and Shelley all right?”

“We're fine. But it's important to me that my mother not know tonight. Can you keep her shielded from the news?”

“I don't get the evening paper and as for the television news…well, I'll think of something. But I don't like this, Nikki. You sound awful and so many terrible things have happened.”

“I know. But I promise you everything is okay. Just don't let Mom see any news. You'll both know tomorrow. And by the way, tonight Shelley and I will be staying in a motel.”

“Nikki—”

“Bye, Kay, and thank you.”

Nicole had just pulled out her phone book to look at motel listings when someone tapped on her door. Please, God, don't let that be Avis Simon-Smith, Nicole thought. “Come in,” she called.

The door opened slowly and Nicole nearly jumped in her seat when Miguel Perez walked in. She had never really noticed his resemblance to Paul, unless subconsciously. Today his hair was pulled back in its usual ponytail, and his eyes were solemn. “Dr. Chandler I need to talk to you about last night”

Nicole answered briskly, looking back at the phone book. “There's no need.”

“I think there is.” Miguel sat down across from her. “Look, Dr. Chandler, I know you're wondering why I was with Lisa.”

“Whom you date is none of my business, although it didn't go over big with Roger.”

“I date Lisa's friend Susan. The other guy at the table was Susan's brother. I didn't even know Lisa was going to meet us at the restaurant.”

Miguel looked at her with misery in his eyes. He was making her uncomfortable.

“Miguel, I told you this is none of my business.”

“But you're mad at me.”

Nicole tapped her fingers on the table, realizing her coldness could be interpreted as jealousy.

“Miguel, I was shocked to see you with Lisa,” she said slowly. “As you can guess, I don't have a high opinion of her. And I have to admit to feeling betrayed—I've been closer to you than any of my students, and you know about my husband's relationship with Lisa. When I saw you with her and it appeared you were on a date, or at least very interested in her…well, it was an unpleasant surprise.”

“It wasn't a date.”

“Fine.”

“You still sound mad.”

“Miguel, I told you—”

“I know. It doesn't matter to you.” He got up, walked to the door, then turned around. “I just wish it did.”

Nicole watched as the door closed quietly behind him. Now there was no doubt about his feelings for her. He cared. He cared deeply.

He was also on the River Walk last night. So many things she thought were secret about her relationship with Paul weren't secret at all. She'd learned that from Carmen. If Miguel were interested in her, would he have picked up every detail about her he could find? Would he have looked at old newspaper clippings and talked to people about her and Paul? Could it have been
his
eyes she looked into with her blurry gaze last night? Could he have slipped a cross like the one she'd had made for Paul around her neck? Could he have somehow latched onto the word
chérie
?

And more important, the day of her father's funeral he had been in possession of her house keys for several hours. Could he have had duplicates made?

“Miguel, could you have killed Izzy Dooley to protect me?” she whispered in horror. “Could you be trying to become my next Paul Dominic?”

1

Nicole nearly ran to her car, knowing she had to pick up Shelley instead of letting her board the bus for home. She drove faster than usual, hoping she wouldn't get a ticket She'd meant to leave early, but she'd been delayed by Miguel.

She parked near the school and waited outside Shelley's classroom to make sure she didn't miss her. She couldn't resist peeking through the narrow window in the door to see Shelley gazing out the window. No matter how good a teacher you are, Nicole thought, you usually lose them the last five minutes. She had great respect for Shelley's teacher, and somehow seeing all those nine-year-old faces going blank made her feel better about her own students who tended to mentally drift near the end of the class.

When the bell rang, Nicole watched all the little bodies flood from the room, then reached out and touched Shelley on the shoulder. “Surprise!”

“Mom!” Shelley cried. “What're you doing here?”

“We're not going straight home.”

Shelley immediately sensed trouble. “What's wrong?”

“I'll tell you in the ear.”

The worried look didn't leave Shelley's pretty face, but she didn't ask any more questions. They'd gotten in the car and driven about five minutes before she asked in a tiny, frightened voice, “Why can't we go home?”

Nicole hesitated. Should she make up an excuse? No. Shelley was almost ten. She couldn't hide the truth from her.

“Honey, last night someone broke into our house,” Nicole began, deciding to leave out the part about the mugging on the River Walk. “Apparently someone else was also hiding in there because…well, the intruder was murdered.”

Shelley looked at her, her eyes huge and vivid blue. “Murdered!”

“Yes. A policeman Sergeant DeSoto had posted outside was also murdered.”

“Wow!” Shelley exclaimed. “Didn't anybody try to murder you?”

“No. No one laid a hand on me.”

“I'm so glad, Mommy! I mean, if you got murdered…”

Nicole looked over to see Shelley's eyes filling with tears and was glad she hadn't told her about the mugging. “I'm just fine, sweetheart.”

“Okay.” Shelley swallowed a couple of times and wiped at her eyes. In a moment she asked, “How did those people get murdered?”

“They were shot.”

“Didn't you hear anything?” Nicole shook her head. “Oh, a silencer,” Shelley said wisely.

“Yes.”

“Gosh.” Shelley stared straight ahead, then suddenly tensed. “Jesse! Did he get shot?”

“I don't think so.”

“Don't you know?”

“Honey, he's missing.”

“Missing!” Shelley cried, seemingly more upset about her dog than the deaths of two men. Nicole understood. The men were anonymous. The child loved her dog passionately. “Mommy, are you sure somebody didn't
kill
him?”

“I really don't think so. I believe he escaped. You know he can't be caught if he doesn't want to be.”

“That's right!” Shelley said excitedly. “I bet he can run even faster than that big black dog.”

Nicole went rigid. To her knowledge, Shelley had never seen the Doberman. “What big black dog?”

“The one outside our house the night Daddy brought me home late and you two had the fight in the driveway, and the same one I saw outside the schoolyard at recess today.”

“Oh,” Nicole said, trying to sound casual. “Was the dog alone?”

“No. It was with a man. He waved at me.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

“No. He was too far away. He just watched me.”

“Did the teacher see him?”

“No. Mommy, do you think Jesse will be home when we get there?”

“We can't go home tonight,” Nicole said distractedly. “The police are still working there.”

“Oh, sure. Crime scene.”

Nicole looked at her. “Shelley, you sound twenty-five.”

“Well, I'm not dumb. Do you want me to talk like I don't know anything?”

“No,” Nicole said wearily.

“But what if Jesse comes home and we're not there?”

“Then he'll come back again. You know how persistent he is.”

“What's persistent?”

“Good heavens, a word you don't know? I can't believe it. ‘Persistent' means never giving up. He'll keep trying. Shelley, about the man at the school—”

“Are you sure he'll keep trying?”

Nicole looked at her daughter's beautiful, worried little face. “Sweetie, Jesse loves you as much as you love him. He won't give up on you after one day.” Shelley looked slightly mollified. “Now tell me some more about the man at the school. What did he look like?”

“Ummm, tall. Dark hair.
Long
dark hair pulled back. Like Miguel's.”

“Was it Miguel?”

“Maybe. He had on sunglasses, too. But Miguel never said he had a dog.” Her forehead wrinkled. “I did hear him say something.”

“If you weren't close enough to see his face clearly, how could you hear him say something?”

“ 'Cause he said it loud. Not to me. To the dog. He started to leave and the dog stayed. He turned around and said, ‘Come, Jordan.' I like that name, Mommy.”

“I do, too,” she said, thinking. The dog that had bitten Izzy Dooley wore an ID tag with an Olmos Park address. She was certain it was Paul's. Could Miguel also have a black dog named Jordan?

Unlikely but possible, she thought. But whether or not the man with the dog was Paul Dominic or Miguel Perez, what had he been doing outside the schoolyard looking at her daughter?

2

“I don't like this place very much,” Shelley complained, looking around the motel room.

Nicole flipped open a suitcase and began removing clothing. “What's wrong with it?”

“It's not home,” Shelley said dully. “Did you remember to feed the fish before you left?”

“Yes.”

“What if Jesse comes home and he's hungry? There's no food.”

“He'll go to Mr. Wingate's.”

“Can we go home tomorrow?”

“Well, if we can't move back in, we can at least drop by and see if Jesse's back.”

“I don't see why we can't move back in now,” Shelley complained, stretching out facedown, head toward the foot of the bed. “Do they have cable here?”

“I'm sure they do.” Nicole closed the suitcase. “All right, I think we're all set for tomorrow. Now I have a couple of calls to make.”

Shelley let out an exaggerated sigh. “Can I watch TV?”

“Yes, you
may
, as long as you keep it low.”

While Shelley listlessly flipped the remote control from channel to channel, Nicole called Vega's. Bobby answered, and without amenities Nicole asked to speak to Carmen. When she came on the phone, Nicole gave her the name of the motel and room number.

“Are you going to have police protection?” Carmen asked.

“I doubt it, although I'm going to let the police know where I am.”

“Do you know anything else about the murders?”

“Nothing,” Nicole told her. “I'm sure the whole thing will be on the evening news.”

“No doubt. Nicole, I'm so worried about you.”

“We'll be fine,” Nicole said, just as she had to Kay. “It's sort of an adventure, being away from home for the night. Besides, hardly anyone knows where we are. If someone came looking for me tonight, he'd expect me to be at my mother's.”

“But what about her?” Carmen asked. “All alone in that big house?”

“She's not home. Seems there's a carbon monoxide leak, and she's staying with Kay Holland. She doesn't know anything about all of this, and I don't want her to. And please, Carmen, don't you tell anyone, either.”

“Nicole! Do you think you have to warn me about that? My lips are sealed. But if you need anything—”

“I'll call,” Nicole said, knowing she wouldn't. There was nothing Carmen could do to help her. Besides, she didn't want to involve her any more than she already had.

Next she called police headquarters and asked for Raymond DeSoto. “Shelley and I are settled in at a motel,” she told him. “Do you know any more about what happened this morning?”

“A little bit, but I don't think I should discuss it now. How about having dinner with me?”

“Dinner?” Nicole repeated blankly. “I'm with Shelley.”

“I should have been more precise. Would you and Shelley like to have dinner with me?”

Nicole was so surprised, she found herself floundering. “Well, uh, just a minute.” She put her hand over the mouthpiece. “Shel?” The child looked up from the television. “Would you like to have dinner with Sergeant DeSoto?”

Shelley's eyes widened. He's asking me for a date?”

Nicole couldn't stifle a smile. “He's asking”
both
of us.”

“Oh.” Shelley appeared to be thinking. “Sure.”

“Shelley accepts,” Nicole said into the phone. “So do I. But we have to be back early because it's a school night.”

“I know a great little pizza place. It's rather secluded, and I really shouldn't been seen with you because of the investigation. Would that be all right?”

Nicole ignored her slight hurt over being regarded as a liability. “We love pizza.”

“Good. Tell me where you're staying and I'll pick up you ladies around six.”

3

Cy Waters stepped into his small home, kicked off his shoes, and sighed. He stood still in the entrance hall for a moment, sniffing appreciatively. Rich smells drifted from the kitchen. Unusually rich smells.

“Cy, that you?”

Aline had been calling this out every evening for the thirty-two years she'd been Mrs. Waters.

“No, it's Sidney Poitier,” Cy returned.

“Make yourself at home, Sidney. Dinner will be ready soon.”

Cy walked into the perfectly neat if comfortably worn L-shaped living room. Pictures of the three children who had kept this room in chaos for years hung on the walls. Cy glanced at them. Good kids. Attractive kids. Smart kids. And as much as he loved them, he was glad the last one had left to go to college in Dallas last fall. Being alone with Aline felt like they were newlyweds again, and Cy was enjoying it.

Aline, tall, full-figured, and stunningly attractive at fifty-one, walked into the room carrying Cy's glass of tonic with a slice of lime. “Hard day?”

“Brutal.”

“You always say that.” She sat down beside him on the couch.

“Something smells damned good in the kitchen.”

“Beef Stroganoff.”

Cy's eyebrows shot near his graying hairline. “What happened to that low-fat, low-calorie, low-flavor stuff you've been starving me on for the past three weeks?”

Aline took a sip of her own tonic. “I thought we needed a break.”

Cy closed his eyes. “Praise the Lord.”

“Cy, I spend a lot of time on those meals. I'm a nurse. I know what I'm doing. Besides, the doctor recommended that diet for you. He said in a few weeks you'd adjust to it.”

“Sure. Bet he wouldn't go on it unless he had a gun to his head.”

“Don't be such a grump.” Aline touched one of her gold stud earrings absently for a moment, then said, “Speaking of being shot in the head, I heard you had a rather interesting case today.”

“Yeah.” Aline looked at him expectantly. “Where did you come by that information?”

“I have friends who are married to cops and friends who
are
cops.”

“Okay. Today's business was pretty bad.” Aline continued to stare at him. “You want to
hear
about it?”

“Might as well. Dinner won't be ready for twenty minutes.”

“But you
never
want me to talk about work.”

“That was when the children were home.”

“No, just two weeks ago—” Cy broke off. He smelled the delicious meal bubbling in the kitchen. He looked into Aline's lovely doe eyes, and he understood. “You know who's involved in this case, don't you?”

She smiled sweetly. “You bet I do, honey. I was on duty in the emergency room when Nicole Sloan was brought in after those two animals almost killed her, remember?”

“Yes.”

“Poor little thing was beaten to a pulp. They had to do plastic surgery to repair her face. It really got to me because she was only a couple of years older than our Carrie.”

“I know.”

“It isn't just that,” Aline explained. “There was something about that case that bothered you. You tried to talk to me about it, but I wouldn't listen. The whole thing upset me too much. But I want to hear now.”

Cy nodded. “It always bothers me when slime like Magaro and Zand go free. Zand bought that alibi that got him and Magaro off. Everyone knew it, but no one could prove it.”

Aline shook her head. “That's not the part I'm talking about. I'm talking about the
murders
of Zand and Magaro.”

“All the evidence pointed to Paul Dominic.”

“But you had doubts.”

“Until he ran. If he was innocent, he wouldn't have taken off like that.”

Aline raised an eyebrow. “Cy, I know you. I know something bothered you even
after
Dominic disappeared. And I know it's still bothering you now. I hear it in your voice. And it's connected to the murders this morning at Nicole's house.”

“Okay, you're right. But can't this wait until after dinner?”

Aline shook her head. “No. No details, no Stroganoff.”

Cy groaned. “So that's why I'm getting the good dinner tonight. Bribery.”

Aline grinned. “That's right. So start talking, honey. I want to hear everything.”