Forty minutes later she turned into Bernardino's heavily bowered suburban street and slowed down to a crawl. Circus time. Where yesterday the block had been quiet, today there were news vans, Westchester news, the city stations, too, and lots of cars, including Crown Victorias. One of them was Mike's. April's heart beat a rumba. She parked way back and walked slowly toward the crowd of reporters stalled in the front yard of Bernardino's house. How to hide?
The house next door had an arbor and a front gate. April opened it, sighed, and strode through it as if she belonged there. In the house a dog started barking; it sounded like a big dog. She ducked her head and skirted the house, not pausing to glance at the windows to see if anyone was watching.
In the backyard an in-ground pool was still covered for the winter that was over. She searched for a gap in the hedge, saw one at the end of the half acre, and plowed through. On Bernardino's side, the lawn was full of dandelions and needed mowing. She walked toward the house. Kathy was working in the kitchen. She looked up and locked eyes with April. They met at the storm door.
'What are you doing here? They tell me you're not on the case,' she said worriedly, then opened up so April could come in. 'Your husband's here,' she added. 'He's on the case.'
Not her husband yet, but who was quibbling? Speak of the devil. Mike appeared with an empty glass in his hand.
'Mind if I help myself to some more water?' His bushy eyebrows shot up at the sight of his
Caught, April gave him a weak little smile. Then he got it and turned to Kathy. 'Oh, I see. Girls sticking together. Okay, let's go for a walk.' He took April's upper arm and marched her outside. She didn't resist.
'April, you coming back?' Kathy asked at the door. She seemed alarmed by the brevity of the visit.
April nodded and let herself be taken away by the man of her dreams.
'You didn't come home last night. You had me worried. I don't want you in that house alone.' Mike let the fire die from his eyes as they walked to the edge of the patio and turned their backs on the house so no one could read their lips.
Then what about her parents. Didn't he worry about them?
'You didn't call in. I missed you.' He said this softly. Here was the truth, but he didn't give her a hug. He was working.
She touched her mouth, flipped up her hand.
'Yeah, I know. You didn't want to be alone, but you've got to be careful.' He touched her arm and she nodded again. She was always careful. Well, nearly always careful. Then she glanced back at the house to get off the subject.
'You want to know what's going on?' he asked with a smile. 'The autopsy came in. Bernie was yoked. I guess you knew that. But here's something you didn't know. About a month ago a check came in for his wife, Lorna, from the New York State Lottery. You know she hit the big one?'
Of course, who didn't? April nodded some more.
'Our Bernie deposited fifteen million in a new account at Fidelity. Lorna hadn't passed on yet. In an old will she left him everything and never changed it. But get this. As soon as she died, he withdrew four million, and no one admits to knowing where it went.'
April registered shock, then turned around to catch Kathy's eye. She was working at the sink and didn't look up.
'Kathy says she doesn't know anything about it. We'll run a check on her accounts and of the banks out in her area, but the FBI does that routinely with their agents, so she would know not to hide any big money in plain sight. She might have used safety-deposit boxes. Other names. There are a lot of ways to hide money. She would know.' He lifted a shoulder.
But why the need to hide it? It was their money. Oh, a tax reason? That would be so stupid and squirrelly. She frowned at Mike.
'Yeah, well, like I said, she claims Bernie told her he hadn't gotten the money yet.'
That didn't make sense. Everybody knew the lottery paid off quickly. She tried to remember what Kathy had said about it yesterday.
'Maybe Bernie didn't want his kids to bug him. Maybe he had a different plan for it.' Mike shrugged.
But it didn't sound like the Bernie April knew. She considered the time frame in light of yesterday's conversation with Kathy. Kathy had been out of town since her mother died. If Bernie had wanted to give his daughter a bunch of tax-free money, could he have gotten it out to Seattle without taking it there himself? Did he plan a trip later on? If he'd given a bunch of tax-free cash to Bill, would Bill have sent it on to his sister? If it went to the kids, it had to be about taxes, right? What else was there?
Possibly a whole lot of things. A woman none of them knew about? An illegitimate child. Through the window April could see Kathy washing dishes at the kitchen sink, carefully not watching them. Her hair was no different from yesterday, unwashed and un-brushed. Today she was wearing an old gray sweatshirt and jeans and had circles under her eyes that were visible from a mile away. She certainly didn't have the burnished look of a grieving millionaire.
One thing Kathy had told April was that her father used to discuss everything with them. If he hadn't told her about the money, maybe he'd told Bill and the two men were in some kind of scheme to avoid taxes. April shivered. Now she knew what had bothered her yesterday about the mess Bernardino had left. Bernie was a tidy guy who'd wreaked havoc on his house, so he must have had a reason. April hoped that the money was right there, somewhere under their noses in the house, and had nothing at all to do with his murder. She didn't want to suspect his son of killing him. That was too terrible to imagine.
The press outside the front door didn't know about the missing money, and no one would tell them anytime soon, but the detectives inside were looking for it, guessing that maybe something had gone wrong between Bernie and Bill, and the son had murdered his own father. No one was hoping for that. But they were praying for something simple; anything was better than a mystery.
Mike interrupted April's speculation on the missing money. 'And what are you really doing here,
She considered her options. If she played the cripple, he'd send her home. If he thought she could be useful, he might let her in. It was a small chance that she decided to take. So much for her carefully thought-out plan to remain silent for at least a week. She cleared her sore throat and tried vocalizing for the first time since Wednesday night.
'Kathy wanted to talk.' Her voice was a gravelly whisper that sounded like something a whole lot worse than Marlon Brando playing the Godfather, but at least it was audible. Score one for the Dragon.
'Did she tell you anything?' Mike showed no surprise that her voice was back.
'Not yet. Her mom is dead, her dad was murdered, and her brother is a suspect. I'd say she's scared.'
Mike squeezed her arm. 'You thought you could handle this on your own? Pretending you couldn't speak? How long did you think you could pull that off?'
April shook her head. 'I was just helping out an old friend.'
'That's what you always say. You have no idea what's going on here.' He glanced back toward the house.
No, she didn't know what was going on. She changed the subject. 'Why isn't Bernardino getting a full police funeral?'
'He isn't?' At this Mike registered surprise.
'Kathy's pretty upset about it. I would be, too. Thirty-eight years on the job. Lieutenant murdered on a city street…' April shook her head. 'What's the reasoning behind it?'
'I don't know. This is the first I've heard about it.'
'Well, I'm going in to talk to her.'
Mike glanced at his watch. 'I thought we settled this already.'
'It's not a problem. I'm taking sick leave.' She gave him a mischievous smile, feeling better in his presence.
'Oh, please.' He snorted through his mustache.
'I am.'
'Fine, if you're taking sick leave, you've got to stay out of sight. Get in bed. Don't attend the funeral. These are
