“The government is interested in the product, not the man.”
“At least this wraps it up.”
“How do you figure?”
“He’s got a criminal record.”
“For assault seventeen years ago,” she pointed out. “That doesn’t make him a killer. Just an angry kid.”
“It makes him a convict. And convicts are bad dudes. They don’t come out of the joint rehabilitated. They just come out pissed. Seventeen years is a long time to go before cracking, but they all crack eventually.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I still have to find him,” Mark said. “We have a warrant to search the house, too. I think I’ll talk to the wife again. She was freaked yesterday when I talked to her but she’s had time to calm down. And if anybody knows where he is, it should be her, right? I mean, the guy was ogling her picture. Eventually he’s going to contact her.”
“Your case. I’m just along for the ride.”
“I take it that means you’re coming.”
“You take it correct.”
“And if I have a problem with that?”
“You can talk to my SAC back in Washington and explain why the San Jose police department is refusing to cooperate with a government request.”
Mark laughed. “Yeah, I thought you were going to say something like that. You know you’re short for an agent.”
He watched her get pissed off and knew he’d done it just for the fun of it, which really wasn’t like him when he was on a case.
“I was recruited for my special talent,” she informed him coolly.
“Turn the computer off. I’m going to send a uniform up here to claim it as evidence,” Mark told Steven, who continued to shake his head in disbelief. “All right, Agent Rodgers, let’s go.”
Chapter 7
Caroline watched the men move through the house while Munch sat protectively by her side. A buzzing noise filled her head. The same sound she’d heard since she got the phone call from Steven saying Denny was dead. She tried to shake it off and turned her attention to the woman who had accompanied the detective.
She looked oddly familiar.
“Do I know you?”
The woman turned in her direction. “No,” she responded.
“This is Special Agent Rodgers from the FBI,” the detective introduced her as he walked toward Caroline. “She’s here as an observer only.”
Caroline continued to stare at her.
“I’ve been to a few book signings,” the agent admitted. Then she reached out her hand to Caroline. “I’m a big fan. You can call me Nora.”
“Fan?” the detective asked.
“Ms. Somerville writes novels. Mystery novels.”
“Mrs. Santos,” Caroline corrected her. “I haven’t had time to change it yet legally, but I’m taking my husband’s name.”
“That might be a problem.” The detective sat in the chair across from her and Caroline sensed the news wasn’t going to get any better than it had been lately. “Ms. Somerville, how well do you know your husband?”
Not well. Not well enough to know why he might have left. Why he might be running. Only well enough to know that he wouldn’t have hurt Denny. “How do you mean?”
“Did you know that your husband has a criminal record? That he spent two years in prison?”
The blow was sharp and it ripped the air from her lungs. Prison. Dominic. She forced herself to breathe in small pants and prayed she wouldn’t hyperventilate. This couldn’t be happening, not to her. Not to them.
Prison. Dominic. Criminal.
It couldn’t be possible. He would have told her something like that. A man didn’t get married and not tell his wife that he’d spent time in prison. She felt betrayed. The same way she felt when her parents had the audacity to get themselves killed in a car accident.
Caroline turned her face away from the two, knowing they were searching for a reaction. She focused on the glass wall that looked out over the hillside.
The glass. The space. It all made a twisted sort of sense now.
The words came back to her in a flash. Along with the venom she was feeling at the time. A reason. That’s what she wanted. What she had demanded from him. Now she had one.
She tried to answer, but her throat closed on her violently. She swallowed and tried again. “No, I didn’t know.”
“It was seventeen years ago,” the detective elaborated. “I take it he didn’t tell you.”
“No, he didn’t.” So long ago, it could have been a lifetime, but that it still affected him was obvious. It was here in this house. In the control he exerted over his life, his emotions.
“Assault,” he said quickly. “Did he ever get violent with you?”
She closed her eyes, offended by the question. He’d never been violent. Violent would have meant losing control. Dominic didn’t lose control. “No.”
“Never lost his temper?” he prodded.
Caroline stared at the man. “Dominic is the most self-disciplined man I know. I can’t imagine him being out of control.” No, that wasn’t true. He’d been out of control when they made love. But that was desire, not abuse, and all he inflicted on her was pleasure.
“Well, it seems he beat this guy up pretty good.”
She flinched at his words.
“With his fists, though. Not a weapon. Truth is, two years is really the maximum on that sort of thing with no prior convictions. He must not have had a very good lawyer.”
Caroline needed time to adjust and think. She didn’t want to answer any more questions or hear anything else about Dominic. She needed time to understand what all this meant. But somehow she sensed that the detective wasn’t finished.
“Another thing. Santos isn’t his real name. After he got out of prison, he created a new identity for himself. You should know that your marriage to him isn’t legal.”
Funny, of all the things that had happened in the last two days that piece of information hurt her more than the rest combined. She straightened her back and forced herself to listen despite the blows that felt almost physical.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this.”
“I don’t believe you,” she replied. “What do you want?”
“I need you to know the truth. I need you to know the kind of man you’re protecting, if you are protecting him. I need to find him, Caroline.”
“I told you yesterday, I don’t know where he is.”
“Can you take a guess as to where you think he might go?”
“No.” She shook her head. “The office or this house. That’s it. That was his world as far as I knew.”
Nora leaned forward a bit, causing Caroline to shift her gaze to her. “How long have you known Dominic?”
“Not long,” Caroline admitted reluctantly.
The detective pounced. “But you married him.”
