“Nice save, Zach.”
“I do what I can.”
He knocked on Mindi’s door, and she answered, cowering behind it as though she was afraid to come out. “Yes?”
“I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself before,” my husband said smoothly. “I’m Zach Stone, and you’ve already met my wife, Savannah. May we come in?”
To my amazement, she nodded and stepped aside. “Of course. Thank you for coming to my rescue. It’s hard to tell how ugly that could have gotten if you hadn’t stepped in when you did. Hi, Savannah. You’ve got quite a husband there.”
“I was glad to help,” Zach said, and I was amazed he didn’t throw in a “Shucks, it was nothing” while he was at it.
I looked around the room and was surprised to see that it was as neat as could be. It was hard to believe that Mindi had been able to stand cohabiting with Derrick after seeing what a slob he could be.
After she closed the door to her modest room, Mindi said, “I’m not afraid to say it; that woman frightens me.”
“I know what you mean,” I said. “She was really blasting away at you.”
“Normally, I hate confrontation,” Mindi said, “but I couldn’t just stand there and listen to her abuse. It’s not called for in polite society.”
“What’s that?” Mindi asked, looking slightly confused.
“You told Cary that everyone knows she killed her husband.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Mindi asked. “She’s getting a fat insurance settlement, from what I’ve heard.” Mindi began to whimper softly, and then she added, “She didn’t even love him.”
“And you did,” I said softly, not making it a question, but rather a statement.
“It’s true. I did.”
“Listen, I hate to bring this up, but we need to know. Was there anyone else in Derrick’s life?”
“You mean romantically?” she asked as she looked at me quizzically.
“That’s exactly what I mean,” I said.
“He’d never be unfaithful,” she said. “Derrick loved me.”
“And yet he was still married to Cary,” Zach said. “That must have infuriated you.”
Mindi didn’t rise to the bait. “They had an arrangement. She didn’t care if he slept with me, as long as we were discreet.”
“Did Cary tell you that?” Zach asked.
“No, Derrick did, and I believed him.”
Zach just shook his head, and she asked, “What are you trying to say?”
“If he really loved you, he would have left his wife, wouldn’t he?”
For a split second, Mindi hesitated, and then began crying with such force that I was certain someone from Security would be back.
I tried to calm her down, but she just pointed to the door and shrieked, “Leave this instant.”
We had no choice but to comply, and as Zach and I walked to the elevator, I said, “Smooth, Zach, really smooth.”
“Those tears were a little too convenient, weren’t they?”
I looked at him. “You noticed that pause before she busted loose, too?”
“Hey, I was once a trained detective, remember?”
I shook my head, though I couldn’t hide my smile. “She got out what she wanted to say, and once you started pressuring her, she kind of conveniently fell apart.”
“It didn’t work though, did it?”
“What should we do now, tackle the other writers under Derrick’s thumb, or go after Kelsey Hatcher?”
His stomach rumbled, and Zach asked, “Is there any chance we can get a bite to eat? I saw a hamburger joint on the corner. We wouldn’t even have to drive to it, so we can keep our space in the hotel parking lot.”
“Fine, I know how you get when you’re hungry,” I said. “Let’s go eat, and then we’ll tackle the rest of them.”
AFTER A QUICK MEAL, WE WENT BACK TO THE HOTEL TO finish our second round of interviews.
Zach asked, “Can we stop off at the car for a second?”
“Sure, what did you forget?”
“Nothing. I just want to get another pen.” He’d taken notes about what had happened so far during our lunch, and his pen had slowly failed him.
“I have one in my purse that you can use.”
As we walked back past the car, I noticed that it was sitting lower than it had before. Was it sinking into the pavement of the hotel’s parking lot?
Zach must have noticed it the same time I did. “Hang back a second, Savannah.”
He reached into his jacket and pulled out his gun. “I didn’t even know you were carrying that.”
“It’s a new holster,” he said. “You should go inside.”
“I’m not leaving you out here by yourself.”
“Savannah, stop arguing with me.”
“Then stop ordering me to do things you know I have no intention of doing,” I said.
He shook his head in disgust, but he quit trying to drive me away. If anything happened, I was going to be there for it, no matter what. The not knowing was the worst part about it.
I’d learned that lesson the hard way.
Zach moved back to the rental car, his gaze taking in our surroundings with laserlike precision. Once he was satisfied no one was around, he reholstered his gun. “It’s all right.”
I joined him, and we examined the car together. All four tires had been slashed. There was no patching that could fix it, no hope for them at all.
“The question is,” Zach asked, “was this random, or was it directed at one of us?”
I noticed a note on the back windshield wiper. At first I’d taken it for just another menu that littered some of the other cars around us, but as I reached for it, I saw that someone had written on it with a black marker. The note said simply, STOP DIGGING, OR DIE.
“What do you make of that?” I asked Zach as he read it over my shoulder.
“You probably ruined any prints that were on it.”
“Hey, I held it by the edges.”
“Maybe that’s good enough.” He took the note from me using one corner of his handkerchief, a faded old bandana that he always carried around with him. “It looks like we hit a nerve somewhere.”
“Yes, but where?”
I studied the note. “I can’t tell if it’s in a woman’s hand, or a man.”
“That’s kind of the point of block printing,” Zach said. He opened the car door and put the note on my seat.
“We need to call a tow truck,” I said.
“Four new tires aren’t going to be cheap,” Zach replied. “We’re going to have to pay for them, too. I didn’t get any extra insurance on it.”
“So we’ll pay whatever it takes. It beats running around on rims. At least we’re getting closer.”
He shook his head. “I don’t see that. It feels like we’ve antagonized most of our suspects with the same amount of grief. How do we know what we’re getting to?”
“That’s a point,” I said. I looked at the tires again, and then added, “Then that means that all of this was for nothing.”
He hugged me. “I wouldn’t say that. I think it’s a call to start pushing harder and see what happens.”
I pointed to the note in the seat. “That means nothing to you, does it?”
