Grave Instinct Page 17

  “No, Nikki,” he said gently. “I turn off the interior when I’m home. Or when there’s no risk.”

  “But you were gone. I was there alone.”

  “That’s right,” he said.

  The fact that he trusted her made her feel warm again. As well as slightly guilty. “I did go in your office,” she said. “But I was looking for a pen. I didn’t open any drawers or look for anything.”

  “Erin’s files aren’t there,” he said. “And your sister’s case has been officially re-opened. If you want any information, you only have to ask.”

  The idea that she could ask, and receive, timely information—without Robert pleading for favors from old cop friends—was difficult to grasp. Of course, she was a licensed investigator now. Not a young girl. “Is it your case?” she asked.

  “No, it’s been assigned to one of our cold case experts. His name is Philip Lenco. His office is just down the hall from mine.”

  She should have been relieved Justin wasn’t in charge, especially when her concerns seem to resurface with every new piece of information. It was probably not possible to see the police report on Pancho. But this was a good way to test him. “You’re saying I can be privy to any information from Erin’s case?”

  She braced herself for a refusal, or at least a lengthy explanation about redaction, but his answer surprised her.

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Great,” she said quickly. “Then can you tell me about the detective’s report on Pancho?”

  “There’s isn’t much. There were some sweat stains beneath Pancho’s saddle indicating mild exertion before being tied to that tree. Nothing noteworthy.”

  “No cuts?”

  “Just that old abrasion on his hock where he scraped the stall. We were treating it with an antiseptic. Remember?”

  She nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “Yes, we used a blue cream that the student vet left,” she said. “You said it would keep the flies away.”

  “It works too. I still use that stuff.” His voice turned serious. “Let me know when you want to come by. You can’t make a copy but you can read the full report in my office.”

  “Wait.” She rubbed her forehead. Something didn’t fit. He’d just claimed there were no spur marks—yet he’d agreed to let her read the official report. “What about Pancho’s other cuts? What did we rub on those? You know…the cuts on his sides?”

  Justin turned silent. A chair squeaked and he told someone to wait a moment. A door closed. Moments later, he spoke again. “Pancho had no other cuts,” he said. “And it’s not like you to beat around the bush. What are you really asking, Nik?”

  She stiffened, bracing her shoulder against the stairs. He was too smart. She should have known he’d see through her questions.

  “If you’re asking about rider-inflicted marks,” Justin went on, “there weren’t any. And exactly where was that trail leading you?”

  “Erin could be hard on a horse when she was upset,” Nikki said. “Maybe she spurred Pancho, trying to get him to jump the brook. You know, to keep up with the other girls.”

  “You believe that’s what made her dismount and walk away? That’s your theory? That she didn’t want to ride a bloody horse back to the barn and face the consequences?”

  Nikki didn’t speak for a moment, knowing her next words would cause irreparable harm. She straightened, crossing her arms, hating how she felt so defensive and wishing she could just let it go. But Erin was her sister.

  And her words came out brittle as shards of glass and just as painful. “Or maybe she faced the consequences in the woods,” she said.

  She heard his sharp intake of breath, then a low curse. “Dammit, Nikki. Is your opinion of me really that low?”

  Her chest squeezed but she was unable to back down. “You and Robert are always talking about staying objective. To be tenacious and follow the evidence.”

  “But it’s as if you want me to be guilty. Are you so afraid of your feelings that you’re fabricating evidence?”

  “I’m not fabricating. It’s right here!” Her voice rose and she gestured so quickly her hand hit the ladder. “And my feelings for you have nothing to do with the facts.”

  “So that’s why you dropped by my house last night. So you could search my office. Seems you’re still willing to go to great lengths for your sister. I certainly hope the pleasure you gave me last night wasn’t too big a sacrifice.” His laugh was rough and devoid of humor.

  “No. I care for you.” But even to her, the protest sounded weak. And now she wished he had turned the surveillance on, so she could prove she hadn’t been snooping. “I wasn’t looking for files, not last night. But now I am and I just want to reconcile everything. I’m just asking you to look at this report and explain.”

  But she was talking to blank air. Because Justin had ended the call.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Nikki slumped on a chair in Robert’s kitchen, still gripping her phone. If she were Justin, she probably would have hung up too. But she wasn’t fabricating evidence. He didn’t realize Robert still had contacts inside the police department.

  She stared glumly through the screen door. At least Gunner was having fun, sniffing around the flowerbed, his tail swinging. Best to call him inside before he began to dig. It was time to leave anyway. The meeting with Mrs. Carlton was at one o’clock and she still needed to stop by the office.

  But her tangled emotions kept her rooted to the chair.

  She didn’t want Justin to be guilty. But the timeline, his weak shavings alibi, Pancho’s cuts. Those facts couldn’t be denied. They kept adding up, pointing toward him. It was tempting to gather the reports, drop them on his desk and demand that he explain. He couldn’t brush her off then. She had Robert’s old files from her office. But she still needed to find the written report on Pancho.

  She grabbed her phone and started another text just as the side door to the garage clicked open and Robert strolled in.

  “I was just texting you,” she said. “You’re back early. Is everything okay?”

  “Absolutely,” Robert said. “But it sounded like you were eager to see that report.”

  She gave a grateful nod. “Yes. I checked the attic. Then realized it’s probably in your car.”

  Robert glanced through the screen door at Gunner who was sitting in front of the flowerbed, his dark coat outlined by a colorful backdrop of flowers.

  “Sorry,” she said quickly. “I’ll bring him inside.”

  “He’s okay,” Robert said. “Just relax. I’ll find him a bone, make us some tea and you can tell me why this horse report is so important.”

  “What about your golf?”

  “It’s not as important as helping you.” He plugged the kettle in and shot her a quizzical smile. “I rescheduled and came home. So, what’s bothering you?”

  “It’s probably nothing,” she said, feeling protective of Justin. But she needed to talk this over and Robert was always an excellent sounding board. She had his full attention too—his expression was intent.

  She blew out a conflicted sigh. “Erin was caught once forcing Pancho over some jumps. Being too aggressive with her spurs. Obviously Justin didn’t like it. Nobody did. So I wondered, you know, if maybe that’s what happened at the brook. If she was hurting the horse and…” It was hard to say anything more so she just swallowed, letting her voice trail off.

  “So, it was Justin?” Robert’s eyes widened. “You think he was upset at how Erin treated the horse? So he killed her? Then hid her body?”

  Nikki rubbed her temple. Robert’s words were so blunt, the idea seemed ludicrous. She gave her head a shake. “No,” she said. “I don’t think that. And even if something happened through some freak accident, he wouldn’t have hidden her body. He just wouldn’t do that.”

  She sagged in her chair, flooded with relief. She’d been so focused on small pieces, sometimes she couldn’t see the bigger picture.

  “Justin wo
uldn’t do something like that,” she repeated. “He respects life too much. He even had a special place for burying the cats. And it doesn’t matter about his alibi or Pancho’s cuts. He would have carried Erin out of the woods. He would have brought her back to us and faced the consequences. That’s just who he is.”

  “So we’re back to square one.” Robert pulled two mugs from the cupboard. “Guess it’s time to let this whole thing go. Move on.”

  “No, the case has been reopened. Carlton wasn’t a suspect before. And this time we won’t be shut out, not with Justin around. They’ll listen to our ideas. Every one of them.”

  Robert unplugged the screaming kettle, his back to her. “You two are close again?”

  They’d certainly been close last night, she thought, relieved Robert was busy making tea. She made an agreeable sound deep in her throat, relieved she wasn’t prone to blushing.

  “A cold case expert has been assigned to the case,” she said. “New eyes. New perspective. And Justin promised they’ll look at all the information we’ve gathered over the years. Review everyone’s memories.”

  “Good, because you have a lot to offer. Although a kid’s memory can be spotty.”

  “Yes, but the stuff in the attic will help. I didn’t realize you’d kept all those pictures. Glad you did though. The new investigator will be able to get a better sense of Erin.”

  “I thought you’d want those albums some day,” Robert said. “Did you have time to look in all the boxes?”

  “Sure did. You were so supportive of us. Shirts, breeches, helmet. And they weren’t cheap brands.”

  She beamed him a grateful smile, watching as he fumbled in a cupboard drawer. “While you’re making tea,” she added, “I’ll go out to the garage and grab the report on Pancho.”

  “Wait, Nikki. There’s no rush.” A spoon clinked and he walked over to the table, balancing two cups of tea.

  There actually was a rush. But he didn’t understand her urgency, the need to show the report to Justin and give him a chance to explain. There had to be a reason for the conflicting reports about Pancho’s cuts. She shot a wistful look at the garage door then sipped her tea, relieved it wasn’t too hot.

  “What time is your appointment with Mrs. Carlton?” Robert asked, obviously picking up on her impatience but unaware of the reason.

  “One o’clock. But I need to read that report on Pancho first and see who signed it. There has to be a mistake. Justin said Erin’s horse had no injuries.”

  “You trust him?” Robert’s voice sharpened. “In spite of everything? In spite of what your mother thought?”

  “Mom wasn’t right about a lot of things,” Nikki said. “She was never emotionally healthy. And the more I think about it, the more it’s obvious Justin couldn’t be involved. Even if he hurt Erin by accident, he never would have dumped her body. He’s too decent, too respectful for that.”

  “But what if they were having sex? That would justify concealing a body. His life would have been ruined.”

  “He’s not like that.” Nikki took another sip of tea, remembering Justin’s horror when she accused him of liking Erin. “He was always professional around us.”

  “Maybe with you,” Robert said. “But Erin was older, more appealing.”

  Nikki winced. She’d accepted that her mother had loved Erin more. But she remembered Robert as being more fair with his attention. Admittedly the gifts and excursions had been geared toward Erin but at least he’d always bought two of everything—unless the items were wildly expensive, like the Apple watch and music system.

  But then Erin had switched her interest to horses and life had been wonderful. Her mother’s coolness hadn’t hurt nearly as much when Nikki had a pony to hug.

  She sipped her warm tea, comforted by the cup in her hands. This was an uncomfortable subject but she felt more accepting now. Ready to hear the truth. “Why did Mom love Erin more than me?”

  “Because you reminded her too much of Paul.” Robert answered without a moment’s hesitation. “And he broke her heart. She loved that man until the day she died.”

  “I wish she hadn’t,” Nikki said.

  Robert sighed. “Yes, but your father was handsome, smart and exciting. Women always fell over him, even though he didn’t give a damn. You’re too much like him, a feminine clone.”

  “You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

  “It is.” Robert steepled his fingers, not touching his tea. “Looking at you, seeing him, just reminds me how he took everything I ever wanted.”

  Nikki blinked, shocked by his harsh honesty. At least she thought she blinked. Her eyelids felt heavy.

  “Don’t look so surprised,” Robert said. “I dated her first. She was mine. Do you know how hard it was to pretend I didn’t care? To give the wedding toast, to see her swell with another man’s spawn, to babysit you when they went away?”

  “B-but you were his best friend.”

  Robert snorted. “He got everything. The woman, the job, the accolades.”

  “And a very short life,” Nikki said, not liking this side of Robert. Jealousy didn’t flatter anyone. She’d come back tomorrow when he was more balanced.

  She glanced out the screen door at Gunner. He had dirt over his front legs, and this was a bad time for him to be digging. Or for drawing attention to the fact that he’d buried a bone in the flowerbeds.

  She shot a wary look across the table, hoping Robert wouldn’t notice. Fortunately Robert wasn’t looking outside. His eyes were riveted on her face.

  “Your father did have a short life,” he said. “Everything was better after that. But I thought she’d turn to me. Instead I had to be satisfied with leftovers.”

  Nikki’s head pounded. Not only was Robert talking oddly but his eyes were weird. Like a stranger’s, cold, hard and full of venom.

  “I didn’t want it like this,” he went on. “I thought it was over. You shouldn’t have gone poking in the attic.”

  “W-what?” She struggled to follow his reasoning, to push the words through her thick lips. Both her mouth and brain felt clumsy.

  Robert leaned back in his chair, studying her as if she were an insect beneath a microscope. “How are you feeling, my dear? I have great respect for your martial arts skills—I’ve seen your workouts. But you look suitably sluggish.”

  “What?” she repeated, grabbing the ends of the table, struggling to stay erect.

  “I tried to stop you and Justin from getting close,” Robert said. “Didn’t want the case reopened. But you’ll never give up and Justin’s too good. Although if you hadn’t seen Erin’s helmet, you might have remained an acceptable risk.

  “She wanted to talk that day,” Robert went on. “Told me to meet her by the bridge. But she was in a strange mood, talking about some school boy she liked, saying I had to stay away. Too upset to be reasonable. About anything.” Robert’s voice thickened. “She threatened to tell. I couldn’t let her do that. Your mother meant everything to me.”

  Nikki’s brain felt molasses slow. She heard Robert’s words but they were too slimy to grasp. “Tell?” she croaked.

  “Come on. You have to understand. It wasn’t my fault. Erin was a beautiful girl. And very precocious.” He shrugged and raised his palms. “She looked like your mom. So I took what I could get.”

  The blood drained from Nikki’s face. “You sicko!”

  She lurched forward but her legs felt detached from her body. She slid sideways. Would have fallen if Robert hadn’t shoved her back onto the chair.

  “You’re always so feisty,” he said, propping her up. “But you’re in no condition to be calling me names. Besides, it was your fault Erin didn’t want me around. She kept warning me not to touch you, as if I’d want any female who reminded me of Paul.” He gave a dismissive snort. “She wanted to phone you after our talk. To ask you to meet her where she’d tied that stupid horse. But at that point she was yelling threats. I really had no choice but to drive her back here. Tak
e care of things.”

  Nikki gaped. Robert looked like a stranger, an evil caricature of a man she’d always thought of as an uncle. Her stunned gaze dropped to the tea. He must have laced it with something. And he’d been watching her so closely, gauging her reaction. How much worse was she going to get? How much time did she have?

  “Another couple hours,” Robert said. “Your death will be after your supposed meeting with Carlton’s wife.”

  I’m thinking out loud. Her chest kicked with panic as she realized she was in worse shape than she’d thought. Robert’s face was pulsing now, his mouth moving like a slow-motion puppet. It was weird and horrifying all at the same time. And it was becoming increasingly difficult to absorb his words. She widened her fingers over her thigh, frantically pinching her skin, hoping the pain would kick-start her stalling brain.

  “Carlton is still protective of his wife,” Robert was saying. “So everything will lead to him. And I’ll be able to keep Erin’s helmet. You’re the only one who would remember she was wearing it. And possibly Justin.”

  Nikki’s lips felt thick but she knew she was grimacing. The helmet, of course. All the girls had looked so stylish that day. And Erin had been wearing a matching helmet, the same one that was up in the attic.

  “Is that why you’re doing this?” she tried to ask but her words came out slurred.

  “I didn’t want to,” Robert said. “But once you saw that helmet it was only a matter of time before you remembered. And no matter how many reports I planted, you kept getting closer to Justin, spurring each other on. And now they’re re-opening the case.” He spat so aggressively, spittle flew across the table. “I can’t have detectives digging through the pictures, seeing me with your mother, questioning my statement that he was suicidal. I wanted to leave a note but couldn’t quite copy his writing.”

  Nikki’s heartbeat thrashed in her ears as she stared at the stranger sitting across the table. “You? You did it? You sh-shot Dad?”

  “Of course, but it didn’t help. She still didn’t want me. At least I didn’t have to see them together. Besides, for a while I had sweet Erin.”