“We also have no actual reason to believe that the plane crash has any relationship to the jewel theft,” Dakota said. “The two events could be completely coincidental.”
Slowly Justin stood up. “That’s really true,” he said thoughtfully. “In fact, if it weren’t for the plane crash, we might not have known about the theft of the jewels for quite a while. Which makes me believe that the two incidents really might have had nothing to do with each other. But right now, I’m afraid none of that matters. We have to deal with Riley. We don’t have any choice about calling in the authorities.”
“I know.” Matt cocked a foot forward. “But the question is, which authorities? Riley’s been murdered. Obviously we have to call the cops. But does that mean we have to tell them everything related to the Texas Cattleman’s Club and the three jewels and our whole history of missions around the world? The thing is, it’s one thing to tell the cops about Riley-and another to make the whole situation public. I wish we had someone to give us advice from the inside. There are bigger problems here than just Riley’s murder.”
“I agree,” Ben said. “I doubt any of us would want to withhold information. That is not the issue. But if we get embassies involved here, we have a new nightmare. And unless we guard some information on our past Texas Cattleman’s Club history, we jeopardize all our goals and all we’ve tried to do. I think we need a cop to know the whole story. But it has to be someone we can trust. Any too-fast decisions could make the situation even worse.”
Immediately Winona’s face sprang into Justin’s mind. “Well…the first thing we have to do is take care of Riley. But on the subject of someone we could trust in the police department, I have a suggestion-”
Just then, though, his hospital beeper went off. Justin mentally swore. He couldn’t be in three places at once, yet it was one of those nights when he
Winona had the telephone plugged to her ear when Wayne’s beefy face showed up in her office doorway. Her boss cocked a leg forward while she finished the call. With one hand, he scratched his chin as he surveyed the wreckage.
Back when, Royal had had no juvenile department-which had meant there’d been no office for Winona when she’d been hired, until she converted a supply closet. At the best of times, there was turnaround room for a small man. Right now, apart from files stacked chin-high and a desk whose surface hadn’t seen light since the millennium, the room was draped ceiling-to-floor with baby paraphernalia-and Angel herself took up no small space between blankets and rattles and bottles. She blew an excited bubble just for Wayne, though.
Wayne sighed, heavily, from the doorway. “First time I’ve been able to catch up with you all morning. You heard? About Riley Monroe being murdered?”
“I sure did.”
“I don’t like trouble in my town, and this whole week, there’s been nothing but.” Wayne scratched his jowly chin. Again. “How long you keeping that baby in the office, Raye?”
Wayne was one of those dogs where his bark was bad, but his bite was far worse. “The baby hasn’t stopped me from pulling a full load,” she said defensively.
“I didn’t say it had. But it will. I got two of those at home. I know how full-time they are. Now, where you think you’re going with this, Winona?”
“You know where I’m going with this. I’m searching for the mother.”
“That’s not what I’m asking and you know it. You’re already so attached to that kid it shows in your face. She’s not yours. And you’re skating a line-you know you are-on not releasing the baby to Social Services.”
“They haven’t pressed.”
Occasionally, Wayne could be annoyingly logical. “Because this is Royal. And because it’s you and everyone knows and loves you.” Wayne grunted. “That doesn’t mean that this is by the book, though, and you know how I feel on that. If a cop doesn’t behave by the straight and narrow, how can we enforce a law for anyone else?”
“I’m not breaking any law.”
“I know that. I didn’t say you were. Quit ducking the issue.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry.” She
“All right. At least that’s a straight answer.” Wayne washed a hand over his tired face. “You need something filled out about what kind of character you got, what kind of foster parent you’d make, that kind of thing, you come to me, Raye,” he said gruffly.
She couldn’t kiss the boss. It would be completely inappropriate, and he’d hate it besides. “Thank you,” she said sincerely.
“Yeah, well. That’s not the only reason I stopped by. Did you happen to know Riley Monroe?”
“I knew he was the night watchman at the Texas Cattleman’s Club. And he bartended for them at a lot of parties. He always seemed like a nice man. I can’t imagine him involved with any trouble. But I didn’t know him personally.”
Wayne nodded. “Well, your impression’s like everyone’s. He’s the last person anyone’d think would get murdered. The thing is, there’s no keeping the death out of the papers. Folks’ll want to show up to show respect and all, especially because Riley had no family. But I want all details kept out of the media until the investigation’s over. I want a lid kept on this. Tight. And I know nothing in homicide’s directly your problem, but I still want everyone in the station on the same page. If the press hound you, don’t say anything.”
“No problem.” Someone screeched that there was a phone call for Wayne, and he hiked back to his office, four- letter words spilling from his mouth like drool. It was one of those mornings when no one could catch their breath. She was just reaching for the phone herself when it rang, and she grabbed it.
“Winona?”
“Yes?” She was positive that she recognized the feminine voice-only not exactly.
“I’m at your house, dear-”
“I beg your pardon?”
“And I just wanted to know if there was anything that you’re allergic to.”
“Well, no, but-”
“Fine. I just didn’t want to risk cooking something that didn’t suit you. And Justin didn’t feel that you’d want me baby-sitting until the two of us had a chance to sit down and talk, but it’s not like we’re total strangers. So I did want to say right up front, I’m available. And I adore children. And I’ll be here, helping in your house, anyway, so there’s no problem if the baby were here, too. And that’s all, dear. I realize that you’re at work and probably aren’t supposed to be getting personal calls. No problem.”
The woman abruptly hung up. Winona stared at the buzzing phone for several moments, feeling completely befuddled. Yes, the woman’s voice was familiar, but she couldn’t place it. And the whole conversation, covering cooking and allergies and baby-sitting-made no sense to Winona whatsoever. She might have been alarmed, particularly at the idea of a stranger being in her house-if someone’s telltale name hadn’t come up.
Justin.
A series of bubbles were cooing from the baby carrier on her desktop. “Angel,” Winona said, “I think we’d better go home for lunch today. Is that okay by you?”
Angel kicked her feet, clearly thrilled at the thought.
At ten minutes after twelve, Winona took one last bite from a fast-food hamburger as she pulled into her driveway. An unfamiliar car was already parked there-an Olds. Gray. And the model was older, but the car was still kept up to within an inch of its life, with paint gleaming and white-walled tires cleaner than brand-new.
Feeling even more bewildered, Winona grabbed Angel from her car seat and whisked the diaper bag to her shoulder. The baby wasn’t fussing, but she was going to any second. Angel was such an ultrasmart baby that she could already tell time. At 12:12 p.m. she was going to want a bottle. Not 12:14 p.m. Not 12:13 p.m. But at precisely 12:12 p.m., and as long as she got exactly what she wanted, Angel was possibly the most miraculous, perfect, congenial baby ever to have been born. And Winona would have loved her no matter what, but right then it seemed a good idea to run for the door.
As swiftly as she juggled the baby and her purse and the diaper bag and the back-door key, however, she abruptly discovered that the door was already unlatched. Her door. Unlocked.
