“The husband was probably working.”
“Maybe.” Paterno didn’t like it. “But I got the sense that these two—Nick and Marla—they had something going again. I could feel it.”
“Oh, yeah, you, the great romantic,” Janet chided with a smile and rolled her eyes.
“I’m tellin’ ya, those two have the hots for each other.”
Janet shook her head, her short brown hair feathering around her face. “As if you’d know.”
“I know plenty,” he grumbled and she chuckled deep in her throat, the way she always did when she had managed to yank his chain—which happened far too much in Paterno’s opinion. “And I’m gonna call the highway patrol, see if they’ll send someone up there with a dog. Marla Cahill claims her purse is missing and the way that car hit, it could have been flung to hell and gone in the impact.”
“Those boys are pretty thorough. I think they would’ve found it.”
“Doesn’t hurt to check,” he said as she waved and headed out the door. Paterno reached for the phone. He wouldn’t mind taking a peek inside the missing handbag himself. No telling what he might find.
“Did you have a chance to check out those files we found in Pam Delacroix’s computer?” She and he had gotten a search warrant, looked through the house and come up with nothing but some notes and computer records.
“Looks like she was trying to put together a book. About adoption law. Using real cases. Some fact, some fiction, but I need to go over it in more detail.” He fiddled with his pencil. “I think it might be a good idea to stake out Alex Cahill’s house, too,” he said frowning. “Just to see what we can see.”
“Why?”
He scowled and spit his gum into the trash. “I think someone might be trying to kill off Marla Cahill.”
“Jesus, Tony,” Janet said, leaning a shoulder against his door frame. “Why?”
“I’m checkin’ into that. Near as I can tell she has some life insurance on her, not a whole helluva lot by those people’s standards, and if her old man was pissed because she was involved with someone, why the hell did he have his brother come running down here when he and the lady were an item way back when?” He sniffed in disgust. “Too bad she can’t remember jack shit. That way maybe we’d be able to figure out who’s after her, have a chance to save her.”
“And now?”
Tony Paterno leaned back in his chair. “Right now, we don’t have squat.”
“Where the devil have you been?” Eugenia asked as Nick and Marla entered through the front door. Looking frazzled, the older woman was holding James to her shoulder and the baby was fussing. “It’s been hours.”
“I’m sorry, it’s my fault,” Marla said and took the baby from his grandmother’s arms. “How are ya, big guy?” she asked, her heart melting when his crying stopped and he observed her with wide, curious eyes. “Isn’t that better?” To her mother-in-law, she said, “I had a couple of errands to run and I stopped by and gave a statement to the police about what I remember about the accident. It took longer than I thought.”
The older woman’s lips pursed in prim, unspoken accusation, but Marla wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of feeling guilty.
“Dinner will be ready soon.”
“Good. I could eat a horse.” Marla’s stomach rumbled at the thought. This would be her first real meal since the wires had been ripped from her teeth. “Where’s Cissy?”
“She had a riding lesson.” Eugenia checked her watch. “Lars went to pick her up. They should be back any time now.”
“Good, I want to talk to her. If anyone sees her first, let her know.” The baby fussed and Marla carried him to the kitchen where she searched for a bottle and formula.
Standing over gas burners, Elsa the cook was stirring a cranberry-orange sauce with a wooden spoon while potatoes simmered in a kettle. The smell of roasting pork wafted through the cavernous room where copper pots, stainless steel utensils and baskets of herbs hung from the beams. It was all Marla could do not to ask for a taste.
Rosa was unloading a stainless steel dishwasher while Carmen, her usually smooth brow furrowed, her lips tight in a frown, was searching through drawers and muttering under her breath.
“Anything wrong?” Marla asked as she mixed the powdered formula and distilled water in a clean bottle.
“Mrs. Eugenia is missing her keys and thinks someone must have taken them from her,” Carmen said.
“Someone?”
Rosa’s eyes rounded as she stacked the plates in a cupboard. Her face was paler than normal and she nodded her head furiously. “Si. Señora Cahill, she is . . .”
“Loco,” Carmen said, then slammed a drawer shut and lifted a palm in surrender. “I didn’t mean it that way. She’s upset, though, about the stupid keys and I know they’ll turn up.”