Close Neighbors

“Okay, then let’s get back to the detectives,” Anne suggested. “You told them that you simply got up and left after Graham pushed you, and what did they say?”

“Nothing.”

“They just let it pass?”

Rachel nodded.

“You figure that’s significant,” Chase said.

“Well…yes. I’ve been assuming they found evidence of a struggle, been assuming that’s why they figure the killer might have turned Graham’s own gun on him. But if there was evidence, why wouldn’t they have pressed Rachel about saying she just got up and walked off?”

Chase considered the question, but couldn’t come up with any logical answer. “They noticed the leaves were disturbed where she fell,” he finally said. “So they’d hardly have missed something more obvious.”

He hesitated then, afraid of jumping to a conclusion just because he wanted it to be true. But since it struck him as the only possible one, he added, “Which means there can’t have been any struggle. And that means,” he continued, looking at Rachel with a sudden sense of euphoria, “we don’t have to worry about our extortionist. Because if he tells the cops you wrestled with Graham for his gun, they’ll know he’s lying.”

“Chase?” Anne said.

When he glanced at her, she said, “Maybe there was no evidence of a struggle. But maybe there was, and the detectives just had some reason for not asking Rachel about it.”

A reason like wanting to give her enough rope to hang herself? he thought, the euphoria gone as quickly as it had come.

“What sort of reason?” Rachel asked.

“Nothing really comes to mind,” Anne told her. “So Chase was probably right—there likely wasn’t any sign of a struggle. But if there wasn’t, why would the cops think Graham might have been shot with his own gun?”

“Because he was killed with a Glock?” Chase said.

“Well…I guess that could be it, although the police are hardly the only people who have Glocks. But let’s get back to why they didn’t ask about a struggle.

“If we assume it was because there wasn’t one, we get an entirely different scenario of what happened in the clearing. In it, the killer would have stepped out of the woods with a gun aimed at Graham, and—”

“No, that doesn’t make sense,” Rachel said. “Because Graham wasn’t stupid. If someone was pointing a gun at him, he’d have simply handed over his wallet. And if he had, why would the guy have killed him?”

When Anne was silent again, Chase’s throat went dry. They were close to something important. He felt certain they were. So why didn’t she know what it was?

As the seconds slowly passed, he told himself she was merely taking time to think. Finally, he couldn’t stop himself from asking what she was thinking about.

“Just something my father used to tell me,” she said. “Do you know he’s a private investigator?”

“Yes, Julie mentioned it. She said you used to work for him. But what did he tell you?”

“That I should always guard against tunnel vision, never lock into only one explanation when there might be others. So I was remembering that—and trying to figure out what others there could be when it comes to Graham’s murder.”

Chase retreated into wait mode once more, simply watching Anne until the silence grew too much for him again.

“And?” he said when it did. “What other explanations are coming to mind?”

“Well, only one, really. That the guy in the park wasn’t a mugger at all. That he followed Graham there with the specific intention of killing him.”

ANNE, RACHEL AND CHASE were still talking when Julie arrived back with Becky in tow.

The two of them proceeded to be as silly as only a couple of little girls can, but even that wasn’t enough to drive away the thought that had been skittering around the fringes of Anne’s mind.

If no one had wrestled with Graham for his gun, then it seemed almost inconceivable that either Rachel or Chase had any involvement in his death. Still, the fact remained that there could have been a struggle. And if there had been, all bets were off.

“Last one in’s a rotten egg!” Becky suddenly screamed, launching herself toward the pool.

Julie cannonballed in after her and they immediately began a game of water volleyball with the beach ball they’d brought over.

“Normally, I’d tell them to keep it down,” Chase said after one of them let out a piercing shriek. “But as long as they’re making noise they won’t be listening to us. So where were we?” he added.

“Anne was saying she wished we had more hard facts,” Rachel reminded him.

“Right,” she agreed, warning herself to be careful.

They’d long ago wandered away from the subject of whether the Nicholsons were going to tell the police about that extortion call, but for the past few minutes she’d been easing the conversation back toward it. And she didn’t want to say anything that might make Rachel even more determined to keep it a secret.

“I’d really like to know whether Graham’s wallet was taken,” she continued. “Because if it was still on his body, that would definitely rule out robbery as a motive. And I’d really, really like to know whether there were signs of a struggle.”

“Oh, I’d give the world to know that,” Rachel said. “If I could just be sure it doesn’t matter whether that guy tells the cops his story, if I was certain they wouldn’t believe him…But is there any way we can find out?”

“Well, it’s pretty tough for an outsider to get crime-scene details. I mean, you can hardly phone those detectives and start asking questions about their investigation.

“But you know, Chase,” she added, sounding as thoughtful as she could, “if you called them about the extortionist, then while you were talking to them you might be able to—”

“No,” Rachel said firmly.

CHAPTER FOUR

ANNE TURNED TO CHASE, thinking that surely, regardless of his sister’s fears, he must realize the only rational way to deal with extortion threats was by reporting them.

However, it was Rachel who spoke. “We talked this into the ground last night,” she said. “And telling those detectives will only make things worse.”

Anne focused on her once more. “Rachel…listen to me, okay? If you keep quiet about this guy you’re putting them at a major disadvantage. And you’re not helping your own situation, either.

“They’re making a whole lot of false assumptions because they aren’t aware someone was in the park watching you. Someone who may have been following Graham, waiting for a chance to kill him. But if Chase told them—”

“If he did, they probably wouldn’t believe him.”

“You know, at this point I’m so into overload I can’t even remember why you figure that.”

“Because the guy called me at dinnertime yesterday,” Chase said. “By now, I’d be telling the cops about it almost twenty-four hours later. So, obviously, they’d suspect it was just a story we came up with to throw their suspicions off Rachel.”

“But I really don’t think—”

“Anne?” Rachel said. “Aside from what the police would figure, if the guy really has some way of finding out if Chase calls them—”

“We don’t know he does.”

“But we don’t know he doesn’t! What if he does? Then he follows through on his threat, and it turns out there were signs of a struggle? Those detectives would be certain I’m guilty.”

“But—”

“Look, as I said before, I learned a lot about cops from Graham. And maybe your father used to warn you about tunnel vision, but I doubt either Westin or Providence has the slightest concern about it.”

“Those are the detectives who came to the house,” Chase explained.

“All they’re thinking,” Rachel continued, “is that I was with Graham the evening he was killed and that I was furious with him. Plus, they’re convinced he was carrying his gun. A gun I knew how to use. To their minds, that gives me motive, means and opportunity.

“Then we’ve got those damned clothes I threw out. All I need is one more strike against me, whether it’s real or trumped up, and I’ll find myself sitting in a jail cell facing murder charges.”

Taking a long, slow breath, Anne told herself to remain cool and logical. “Rachel,” she said at last, “there’s no way in the world anyone would charge you with murder. Even if those detectives do think you killed Graham—”

“What?” she interrupted, her eyes luminous with tears. “Are you going to say they’d only charge me with manslaughter? Because I killed him in the heat of passion? Or maybe even involuntary manslaughter? Because I was only trying to take the gun away from him when it went off?

“Anne, I didn’t have a thing to do with Graham’s death! And I don’t want to go through the rest of my life with people thinking that I must have because I was charged with…with anything!

“And what if it got to trial and I was headline news? Then I’d always be a killer in people’s eyes, even if I wasn’t convicted. My life would be ruined when I’ve done nothing at all.

“So maybe this guy who phoned would know if Chase told the cops about his call and maybe he wouldn’t. But I’m not taking the chance he would.”

Anne looked at Chase again. “Is that the way you feel, too?”

He shook his head. “How I feel doesn’t matter. I promised Rachel the final decision was hers. After all, she’s the one at risk, the one who could end up sitting in that jail cell. Not me.”

“I see,” she murmured.

“Anne?” Rachel said.

“Yes?”

“I’ve told you about all I can, and…as much as I care about whatever else you’ve got to say, I’m getting a migraine. I thought I’d headed it off this morning, but it’s coming back. So unless there’s anything more you desperately still need to ask me, maybe you and Chase can…”

“We know where to find you if we can’t,” he told her.

She pushed back her chair. “I realize how pig-headed you figure I’m being about that call,” she added to Anne. “But…”

“I understand.” She might not think they were handling this the right way, but she did understand.

“Good. Well…it doesn’t seem like nearly enough to just say thanks. But I’m really, really grateful that you’re trying to help. And whatever—”

“Rachel?” Julie called from the pool. “Are you going home to put on your bathing suit?”

“No, hon, I’m getting migraine flashes, so I’m going to take something and lie down. Maybe I’ll come back over later,” she added, starting for the gate.

Anne watched Rachel skirt the end of the pool, mentally replaying her explanation of why she didn’t want Chase to tell the cops about that call.

Everything she’d said had referred to her—how the police might charge her, how her life could be affected. She hadn’t uttered a single word about the possibility that they suspected Chase, as well.

And he’d said nothing to that effect, either. Rachel’s the one at risk, he’d said. Not me.

So, regardless of how much time those detectives spent questioning him yesterday, and despite knowing he’d gone after his sister, they’d left both Nicholsons with the same message: Rachel was a suspect; Chase wasn’t.

Anne considered that, wondering whether some neighbor had seen him arriving home from the park.

Since people had heard the gunshot, the cops would have an accurate fix on the time. And, quite possibly, they’d ruled out Chase because he’d been back before Graham was killed.

Whatever the reason, though, it seemed obvious they didn’t suspect him.

She was glad of that, but she couldn’t stop wishing they didn’t suspect his sister, either. Or, more accurately, she wished there wasn’t so much evidence pointing toward Rachel’s guilt. Because the way things stood, she might well end up being charged. And now that they’d spent some time together, Anne had a gut feeling Rachel was innocent.

Of course, her instincts about people weren’t always right. And what if she was wrong this time? Lord, she didn’t even want to think about that. By saying she’d try to help before she knew the facts, she’d gotten herself into something worse than she’d expected and in far deeper than she wanted to be.

But while common sense was telling her it was time to back off, what sort of relationship would she have with her new neighbors if she said, “Well, this is as far as I go. See you around”? Not a good one, that was for sure.

Glancing at Chase, she silently admitted there was another reason she didn’t want to back off.

She rarely met a man who interested her. Yet the very first moment she’d seen this man she’d felt a tug of attraction. And getting to know him a little had told her he might be someone she could really come to like.

Actually, to be deep-down honest, she already really liked him. So she hardly wanted to say she’d decided that trying to help his sister was a bad idea.

But what would happen if her “helping” turned up even more evidence of Rachel’s guilt?

The answer was obvious. Rachel would be in jail. And how would Chase feel about someone who’d had a hand in putting her behind bars?

Ordering herself not to go there, Anne forced her mind off the personal aspect of this and back to the broader picture.

“Let me ask you something,” she said to Chase. “If you aren’t going to report your extortionist to the police, what do you intend to do about him?”

CHASE SAT STARING at his daughter, willing her to pick this instant to climb out of the pool and come over to the patio. If he could just manage that minor bit of mental telepathy he wouldn’t have to answer Anne’s question—which he definitely didn’t want to do.

He had no idea how he was going to deal with the extortionist. Hell, he hadn’t even given much thought to what his alternatives were. And if he had to admit that to Anne she’d figure he was an utter moron.

But ever since he’d turned on the news yesterday morning, there’d been so much to worry about that he’d simply penciled the extortion threat in toward the bottom of his list.

After all, the guy had said he’d get back to him in “a couple of days.” And with this being Friday, a couple of days probably meant Monday. Whereas those detectives breathing down Rachel’s neck seemed like a much more immediate threat.

“Can I assume you aren’t going to give him the two hundred thousand?” Anne said.

Damn. His attempt at telepathy had failed. Neither Julie nor Becky had even glanced in his direction.

Resigning himself to his fate, he looked across the table. “I don’t have two hundred thousand dollars. I don’t have anything close to that.”

“Could you come up with it? If you wanted to?”

As she was speaking, a thought struck him. Even if he could, surely no bank would hand him that much money in cash. And cash was what his caller wanted.

After he’d said as much to Anne, she slowly shook her head. “I’m not certain what that tells us. It might mean he doesn’t know much about how banks work, so he doesn’t realize it could be a stumbling block. On the other hand, he might be sophisticated enough to know there’d be ways of arranging it.”

“You really think there would?”

She nodded. “The bank wouldn’t be happy about it. And they’d probably want you to be accompanied by an armed guard, or sign some sort of release. Still, if it was your money, and you insisted on cash…You haven’t answered my question, though. Could you come up with that much?”

When he eyed her uncertainly, she said, “I’m not trying to pry into your personal finances, but could you?”

“Well…probably. I’ve got a good relationship with the manager at my trust company. But you’re not suggesting I pay this jerk, are you?” He couldn’t imagine that was what she had in mind, yet he didn’t know what else she’d be getting at.

“No, of course not. If you did he’d be on your back forever. It’s just that…”

Looking lost in thought, she absently pushed her hair back off her cheek. And as crazy as it seemed, given that they were in the midst of this conversation, he suddenly found himself thinking she was an incredibly sexy woman.

Not that he hadn’t realized it before. Even though his mind had been pretty much occupied with other things from the moment they’d met, he’d certainly noticed she was a terrific-looking woman.

But just a moment ago, something about the fluid motion of her hand, about the way her dark hair danced with auburn highlights as it moved in the sunshine, had gone straight to his groin. And started him imagining her brushing his hair away from his face. As a prelude to a kiss.

He swallowed hard, unable to force his gaze from the lushness of her lips. Then he saw that she was watching him watch her and he felt hot all over.

Scrambling for something—anything—to say, he settled on, “You know what I think Rachel’s biggest fear is? That those detectives are so convinced she killed Graham they won’t be trying to learn who the real killer is.”