different from a Range Rover, something to help make me a little less boring. What do you think of a snazzy red Corvette?”
Court stirred, and a dark brow went up. “You’re a cop, Lucy, but even you would find out you can’t drive a car like that without other cops stopping you for blowing your nose, just to get up and close and personal to it. You’d spend your time wiping their fingerprints off the hood.”
Coop heard a kind of slimy charm in that. He decided he never wanted to play basketball or drink beer with Court Silverman. He said, “I gave you both the impression that Lucy was in an accident. We wanted to tell you in person that wasn’t what happened. Someone tried to kill her. But she was smart, took care of business. One of the men involved is dead; the other turned tail and ran. We’re looking for him now.” Coop looked straight at Court.
There was a shocked silence until Jennifer said, “How many times did I tell both you and your father, dear, that being an FBI agent was a ridiculous choice for you, and it’s no big surprise that criminals are after you. I’ve always felt the only reason you went into the FBI was because your mother—”
Lucy felt a flash of pain, then calm. “No, not at all, Aunt Jennifer. I applied to the bureau before Dad even told me that my mother had.”
“I thought I heard voices. It’s you, Lucy. Thank God you’re okay.”
Jennifer jumped to her feet. “Oh, Alan, do come in. Lucy and her friend are here. They say it wasn’t an accident—”
Alan Silverman raised his hand. “Yes, I know, Jennifer. I called Agent Savich, Lucy’s boss, and he told me straight up what happened.” He leaned over her, eyed the bandage on her head, and carefully hugged her. “I have no doubt the FBI will find out who did this. Mr. Savich assured me they would protect you until they do. I’m so sorry, Lucy. I hope it’s not too bad?”
“No, a bullet just took off a bit of my scalp, nothing serious,” Lucy said, smiling up at him. “We’ll find out the truth.” She introduced Coop to him, then, “Where’s Miranda?”
Jennifer said, “She didn’t know you were coming, Lucy. She was leading the discussion at her book club this evening.”
Lucy asked, “What book is that, Aunt Jennifer?”
“She never tells us,” Alan said easily, sitting back in the matching chair next to his son’s, his eyes on her face. She saw deeper lines etched by his mouth. “I kid her about the club reading erotic novels, but she denies it.”
Court laughed, a false, practiced sound that got to Coop like fingernails on a blackboard. “I caught her reading
Jennifer slapped her hands together. “Stop it, both of you. What will Agent McKnight think of us?”
Agent McKnight thought the book club sounded pretty interesting. He said, “Your daughter lives here?”
Jennifer said, “Why, yes, she moved back maybe three months ago, but only until she finds a place she likes. They’re hard to come by in the right neighborhood—too much crime elsewhere.”
Coop looked at each of them in turn. “Do any of you have any ideas about who tried to kill Lucy today?”
There was a babble of voices, all of them horrified, all eyes soon turning to him. Alan said, “How would you think we would know anything about such a thing? We’re the only family Lucy has left. We love her. Hurt her? That’s ridiculous.”
Coop said easily, “It’s what we do, sir, ask questions until the answers fit together to solve the puzzle. It seems probable the attempt on Lucy’s life is directly tied to finding her grandfather’s remains.”
Alan said, “For heaven’s sake, Lucy, you don’t think finding your poor grandfather had anything to do with these madmen trying to run you off the road today, do you? I mean, why?”
“Actually, they didn’t seem like madmen, Uncle Alan. They were organized, both driving identical white vans. They tried to accordion me between them, and they shot at me.” She lightly touched her fingertips to the bandage. “They were pros, and someone hired them to kill me.”
“Two white vans?” Court frowned at her, confused. “Who on earth would try to run you down with two white vans? Postal workers gone berserk?”
Coop wanted to send his boot into Court’s right kidney.
Lucy said very seriously, “That doesn’t seem likely, Court.”
Coop said, “Like I said, the other guy turned tail and ran. We’ll find out soon who owns the white vans.”
Court said, “I think I’d like a cup of coffee, Mom, if you don’t mind.”
Jennifer flew to her feet. “Of course, sweetheart.” She patted Court’s arm, saying over her shoulder, “I’ll bring everyone some. Anyone for a snack?”
Jennifer walked slowly back to the sofa and sat down, her eyes on her clasped hands.
Alan said finally, “We’ve already discussed that tragedy with Lucy, and at length with the police. I suppose I must accept the unavoidable truth that my sister was involved, as was my nephew, Josh. It is painful, but there is no other conclusion. Helen killed her husband, and we may never know why.”
“Do you know why, Mrs. Silverman?”
“My sister-in-law, Helen, she was—quite emotional, often depressed, after Lucy’s mother died. There was anger in her, too, that erupted from time to time. But killing Milton? No, that isn’t possible. I have to believe someone else was responsible for Milton’s death.”
Coop studied Jennifer Silverman’s lovely pale face. She was frankly beautiful for her age, with high cheekbones, good cosmetic surgery, no doubt, and a long, fit body—she would still be beautiful when she was ninety.
Court said, “No, Mother, no one else was responsible. It had to be Aunt Helen, and it was murder, not a simple death. I mean, Uncle Milton didn’t tuck himself into that steamer trunk. You found his body yourself, Lucy. Maybe Aunt Helen discovered he was cheating on her. Dad, you think something like that would drive her over the edge?”
Alan said, “I remember at the time—goodness, that was twenty-two years ago—I simply couldn’t understand why Milton had just up and left without a word to anyone, without a message, anything. He was simply gone. I can’t remember that his behavior was any different, not really. As for your grandmother, Lucy, when Milton disappeared, she was distraught. She said she couldn’t understand it, either, any more than I did. I remember comforting her, or trying to. Then she shut herself off, became remote. I was very worried about her for a long time.
“As for your father, Lucy, he was tight-lipped, didn’t want to speak of his father. I remember he’d leave the room when we brought up Milton’s name, you know, to try to figure out why he’d left.” Alan sighed. “Helen killed him. Why? I don’t know. I strongly doubt it was because Milton was unfaithful. He wasn’t that kind of man. It’s been twenty-two years since that awful time. He’s dead, Helen is dead, Josh is dead. So, what’s the point? I think whatever happened should stay buried with them. They were our family, and they deserve at least some discretion from us. I don’t see that we need to discuss it further, Agent McKnight, unless you think that the men who tried to kill Lucy were somehow connected to her grandfather’s murder? I confess, I don’t see how.”
Coop said, “Actually, we know the killers were after a ring Lucy got from her grandfather.”
Alan Silverman looked bewildered. “Ring? What ring, Lucy?”
“Grandfather left me a ring, Uncle Alan.”
“That makes no sense. I don’t know about any ring. Where is this ring?”
Lucy smiled as she slowly stood up. “It’s in a safe-deposit box at the FBI. It seems someone thinks it’s very valuable. Why? To be honest, I don’t really care why. What I care about is that someone is trying to kill me for it.”
Alan rose as well. He studied her face. “I hope you don’t suspect us of having anything to do with these two men trying to kill you, Lucy. For a ring your grandfather had and left to you? It makes no sense to me. Jennifer?”
Jennifer shook her head.
Alan continued, “This has been an upsetting day for all of us. If that’s the only—official—business you have with us, Agent McKnight, I’d like to get some rest now. Lucy, I would like you to stay with us. We can protect you.”
