For Just Cause Page 6

  “Watcha got there?”

  “A fragment of something. It doesn’t belong to anything in the vicinity.”

  Billy studied the area where the fragment had lain. “Hey, look at this. There’s a spot here on the hearth that’s not as dusty as everything else.”

  Now that she looked more closely, she realized the arrangement of statues was unbalanced. “You think another statue used to be here?”

  “Could be.” He picked up the statue of St. Francis and flipped it upside down, examining the bottom. He did the same with the angel. “These statues are hollow inside.”

  “A good place to hide coins?” Claudia ventured.

  Billy nodded. “It’s an old drug-smuggler trick, hiding stuff inside statues.” He thought about it some more. “I like it. But why wouldn’t Mary-Francis just tell us that?”

  “Maybe she didn’t know exactly where her sister put the coins. Or she doesn’t trust us. She’s still hoping to keep the coins for herself when—if—she gets out of prison.”

  “And the robbers beat Theresa until she told them where the coins were hidden.”

  Claudia shivered at the thought of what that poor woman must have gone through—the terror, the pain. “Let’s just get out of here, okay?”

  “A woman’s life is at stake,” he reminded her. “We owe it to her to be thorough. Why are you so nervous? You told me you face down violent offenders in your work pretty often, right?” Billy checked the contents of two drawers in the coffee table that had been overlooked.

  “That’s different. That’s in a controlled setting, when I’m squarely on the right side of the law. This is breaking and entering, and I for one don’t relish explaining to Daniel how we got ourselves arrested.”

  Billy didn’t seem bothered by their straying into unlawfulness. “Hey, Claudia, check this out.” He held up a small white box that she at first thought was a pack of cigarettes or a deck of cards.

  Claudia looked longingly toward the front door. “Billy, please.”

  His face softened, probably sensing her distress. She didn’t make any attempt to hide it. “Okay.” He tucked the item into his pocket.

  Claudia didn’t take a full breath until they were back in her car. She started the engine, again turning on the A/C full blast.

  “You okay?”

  She waved away his concern. “I’m fine, considering I just committed my first felony.”

  “Misdemeanor trespassing, tops.”

  “How comforting. What was that thing you found in the drawer?”

  “Probably nothing important. It was one of those Flip video cameras. You ready for some lunch?”

  How could he act so normal after all they’d been through? After seeing the visceral evidence of a violent crime? Then again, he was a former cop. She knew some homicide cops could literally eat a sandwich while standing over a bloody corpse.

  “I could at least use something cold to drink,” she said.

  She hadn’t planned on sharing another meal with Billy. Last time, she’d spotted Tubby’s and gotten all sentimental, probably revealing more about herself than she’d intended. But Tubby’s did make her think about one of the happier times in her life. At age thirteen she’d been placed in a foster home with another girl close to her age, and they’d become inseparable. One of their hangouts had been Tubby’s. Marlene, who’d been pretty and popular, had shared her clothes and makeup and had made sure Claudia was accepted into her “in” group of kids.

  For the first time in her life Claudia had felt like an accepted member of a peer group. She had belonged.

  After about six months, Marlene’s real mother had regained custody, and the friendship had ended abruptly—along with Claudia’s acceptance. It turned out her “peer group” had only been putting up with Claudia for Marlene’s sake.

  “You like Mexican food?” Billy asked. “I saw an El Fenix on the way over here.”

  “Sure, that’s fine.”

  Billy gave her directions, and five minutes later she was pulling into the parking lot, the lunch crowd thinning out by now.

  Once they were seated in the blessedly well air-conditioned restaurant with a basket of chips and hot sauce between them, Billy took the tiny video camera from his pocket.

  Claudia couldn’t bring herself to order an actual meal, so she requested an iced tea. Billy gave her a disapproving frown, ordered a plate of beef enchiladas, then returned his attention to the camera, fiddling with the buttons.

  “Theresa took quite a few movies. Does she have kids, grandkids?” He looked at the screen and grinned. “Aw, cute baby.”

  “I saw some family photos at the house, so, yes, I’m sure she has children. Mary-Francis said her sister was a widow.”

  A baby’s laughter issued from the camera’s tiny speaker. Billy pushed more buttons. “Now we have what looks like a Little League baseball game. And this one…an elderly lady’s birthday party and…someone who apparently just got a new car.”

  “Sounds riveting. Will the Academy of Motion Pictures be calling?”

  “Same baby again. This time he’s walking.” Billy smiled a really sweet, unguarded smile, and her heart swelled. He continually surprised her. Sure, she could tell herself the kiss they’d shared earlier was an isolated incident, that it would never happen again. But the desire she felt for him wasn’t going away.

  Not until she figured him out.

  Claudia was great at coaching her clients on relationship matters, but the fact was, she’d never had a successful romantic relationship, just a few spectacular failures—like Raymond Bass.

  He’d been executed last year.

  It seemed every man she met had an angle in wanting to date her, and she always figured it out much too easily. If they were interested in sex and nothing else, she always knew it, no matter what they told her or how sweet they appeared to be. They were so painfully transparent.

  Then there were the ones who wanted free therapy. Pass.

  Her abysmal love life was a failing on her part. She couldn’t put the blame on anyone else. Because part of her strained to learn every detail about a potential boyfriend so that she could feel safe; then she lost interest when no mystery remained.

  Billy’s motives for kissing her were impossible to read. He was mysterious…exciting…dangerous…and she ought to be running as far and fast as she could in the opposite direction. Instead, she was intrigued.

  “Oh, now here’s something interesting.”

  “What?”

  He studied the tiny screen intently for a few moments. “Claudia. I think this is a memorial service for Eduardo.”

  “Let me see.”

  He turned the camera partway in her direction, but as they both leaned across the table to look, neither of them could see very well. Without thinking much about it, Claudia slid out of her side of the booth and into his.

  Big mistake.

  “Start it over.” She struggled to make her voice sound calm, as if their contact, from her thighs all the way up to her shoulder, didn’t affect her at all, as if her heart hadn’t started beating like a drum solo and her insides hadn’t clenched up in anticipation of something that would never happen.

  Apparently her efforts succeeded. Billy obliged, turning up the volume.

  An elderly priest stood informally before a group of people seated in folding chairs. “This is Theresa’s house.” Claudia recognized the large sofa painting of The Last Supper. “I wonder why the service was held there?”

  “Because the Torres home was a crime scene?”

  “Now we can at least see what the house looked like before the break-in.”

  The priest talked about Eduardo’s sterling qualities, how he gave generously to the church and sponsored a poor village in Mexico—the village where his wife’s parents still lived.

  “There’s something funny about that priest,” Claudia said.

  “Funny, how?”

  “He keeps glancing at the fireplace. He’s definitely di
stracted by something over there. See how he bounces up on his toes?”

  “Like a kid who needs to pee,” Billy said.

  “Or he’s nervous. Stimulated somehow, anyway.”

  “Maybe he thinks Eduardo left the church something in his will,” Billy joked.

  “I’m serious here.”

  “Claudia, he’s just looking around.”

  She shook her head and returned her attention to the video. “That’s Theresa, there on the front row dressed in black. She was in the courtroom every day.”

  “Where’s Mary-Francis?”

  “Already in custody. They arrested her very quickly after she reported her husband missing and they found the blood.”

  “The older lady next to Theresa is the one from the birthday video,” Billy said. “Is that their mother?”

  “Eduardo’s mother. Mary-Francis’s parents are still in Mexico.”

  “The sisters’ families must have been very close.”

  The camera now panned around the room, taking in all of the mourners, sometimes zooming into a face, sometimes pulling out for a wide-angle shot.

  When the camera panned to take in the fireplace, Claudia noted something interesting. “Can you freeze it for a second?”

  Billy did.

  “Look, there on the hearth.”

  “Hmm.”

  There by the fireplace, where they’d seen the blank spot, was a large statue of the Virgin Mary. She stood at least three feet tall and wore a bright blue cloak.

  “I don’t recall seeing that statue at Theresa’s house, do you?”

  “No. But it matches that ceramic fragment you found.”

  Claudia didn’t know if the excitement rising up inside her chest was because they’d discovered a clue or due to her proximity to Billy; either way, she needed to move away from him without letting him know how hot and bothered he made her.

  The waitress arrived with Billy’s meal and gave them a knowing smirk, as if she thought they simply couldn’t keep their hands off each other. This was Claudia’s cue to slide away and return to her own seat.

  “Need anything else?” the waitress asked, her voice rife with innuendo.

  “Can you bring an extra plate, por favor?” Billy asked.

  “Sure thing, sugar.”

  They were alone again before Claudia realized he intended to share his meal with her. “That’s not really necessary.” She didn’t enjoy sharing a meal. It always called to mind a certain foster home she’d stayed in where there was never enough food. Any time there was “sharing” involved, Claudia usually lost out because she was the smallest.

  “You gotta eat. Daniel has a thing about not letting his people go hungry. Food fuels the brain, and we have some serious figuring out to do.”

  With that, Billy tucked into his enchiladas. Claudia grabbed a tortilla chip from the basket on the table and nibbled at it, and by the time the plate arrived, her appetite was returning. “How’s your meal?”

  “Not as good as my mama makes, but no one makes an enchilada like Rosa Cantu.” Billy scooped one of his enchiladas onto the plate, then added some rice and beans. He gave her exactly half of everything, which she thought exceedingly generous on his part, given he was nearly twice as big as she was. Her heart warmed another degree toward Billy Cantu.

  “Thanks,” Claudia said. She hadn’t thought she was hungry, but she had to admit Billy’s choice wasn’t half-bad. She surprised herself by polishing off her portion of the meal.

  After their table was cleared, Billy again phoned the detective in charge of the Theresa Esteve home invasion case. He put the guy, Sergeant Hudson Vale, on speakerphone.

  “My associate and I paid a visit to the crime scene this morning,” Billy began. “We have an idea of what the robbers might have stolen.”

  Claudia cringed at the casual confession, but Sergeant Vale obviously didn’t think it odd.

  “I’d be grateful for any observations or ideas,” Hudson said. “’Cause this case is going nowhere.”

  “There used to be a big statue of the Virgin Mary sitting by the fireplace. Now it’s gone.”

  “A statue? There was a lot of religious stuff there, I remember. Was it valuable?”

  “I only saw it on a video. It just looks like one of those painted chalk statues you see at flea markets and outdoor shrines. I think my mom has a similar one. But here’s the deal. We think it might have been stuffed with valuable coins—gold coins. Spanish escudos, recovered from Spanish treasure ships, probably off the Mexican coast.”

  “I guess I can check around and see if anything like that’s been fenced lately, or if anyone tried to sell old Spanish gold.”

  “Thanks. Think we could get a look at the crime scene photos?”

  “Sure, stop by anytime.”

  They finished up the conversation. Billy collected their bill and paid for their lunch as Claudia pondered what the missing statue might mean. If Eduardo was behind the home invasion, and the robbers had gotten their hands on the coins, they’d never see Eduardo again.

  “What’s next?” she asked as they got back in the car.

  “We talk to Daniel. I’ll schedule a meeting for tomorrow morning, if you can make it.”

  “I’ll clear my calendar.”

  There was no good reason for Claudia to continue her involvement in this case. She’d done her duty, turning her suspicions over to Daniel and convincing Billy there was something here to investigate. But she felt so invested in the case now, she didn’t want to turn it loose.

  She wanted to find those elusive coins. She wanted to bring the home invaders to justice. She wanted to stop Angie from stealing her father’s estate blind. But most of all, she wanted to find Eduardo Torres alive and save Mary-Francis’s life.

  As a psychologist, Claudia wasn’t supposed to get emotionally involved in any client’s case. Her skill depended on objectivity and an ability to see the big picture. But like it or not, her emotions were all over this case. Maybe it was because she felt guilty over her part in Mary-Francis’s conviction. Maybe it was the gorgeous ex-cop sitting next to her. Either way, she was deliriously happy Billy hadn’t shut her out.

  When he finally got around to saying, Okay, little lady, we’ll handle things from here, she would take it hard.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “BILLY,” DANIEL SAID from the wall-size video screen in the Project Justice conference room, “looks like we’re all present and accounted for. The floor is yours.”

  Daniel’s impatient, Claudia thought, maybe because of that muscle spasm on the left side of his neck. That Daniel blinked and kept tipping his head to the right told Claudia everything she needed to know about his mood. He wanted to get on to something else, possibly an appointment with his masseuse, so anything she could do to speed this meeting along would be a good thing.

  Billy had prepared well for the meeting. Dressed in what looked like crisp new jeans and a starched, dark blue shirt, his almost-black hair neatly combed, he gave a brief overview of the case against Mary-Francis, the interview at the prison and the investigation he’d done so far.

  Claudia noted that he didn’t mention the fact he’d illegally entered Theresa’s house, or that he’d bulldozed his way into the Torres home uninvited. He didn’t mention Jimmy and the gun, either, no doubt suspecting Daniel would have his head on a pike if he found out Billy had endangered himself and Claudia.

  Raleigh Benedict, head of Legal, sat at the mahogany table with them, leaning slightly forward as she jotted notes on her iPhone.

  She’s already intrigued. The slight flaring of her nostrils gave the pretty attorney away.

  “You think Eduardo could actually still be alive?” Raleigh asked.

  “I followed this case,” put in Beth McClelland, who ran the Project Justice evidence lab. “The medical examiner testified that Eduardo couldn’t have survived that much blood loss.”

  She’s skeptical. That eyebrow lifting up just on one side was as good as a flashi
ng neon sign.

  Claudia couldn’t help herself; her habit of reading the body language of everyone in the room—everyone she came into contact with—was so deeply ingrained that she found it impossible to turn it off. It wasn’t as if reading the people in this room would keep her safe; she had nothing to fear from them. She’d been dealing with them on an almost weekly basis for several years. But she read them anyway.

  Mitch Delacroix, the foundation’s tech expert and resident computer hacker, sat next to Beth. His body language was always a piece of cake to read: he was lusting for Beth. Claudia had seen the romance building between those two months before anyone else. She hadn’t been at all surprised to learn they’d hooked up while working together.

  Then there was Billy: impossible to read, as usual. When she studied his body language, she got nothing but a jumble of mixed signals that never failed to frustrate her. He disapproved of the way she used her skills. Did he go out of his way to confuse her, or was this just how he was, in his natural state?

  That was one thing that made him different from Raymond. Raymond had projected a false image. Billy seemed to simply be cautious of revealing too much of himself.

  Thankfully no one else in the room could read body language the way she could, or they might see something in her expression she didn’t want revealed. Mitch wasn’t the only horny person at the table. Just watching Billy, or listening to him speak, made her think about tangled sheets and sweaty skin on a hot summer night. He made her think about the kind of sex “nice” girls who looked like Claudia didn’t have.

  She struggled to pull her mind out of the gutter and back to business.

  “Beth,” Daniel said, “is there any way around the blood evidence?”

  Beth pondered the problem for a moment. “Maybe the CSI was sloppy and only tested one portion of the blood stain,” she said, “and assumed their results applied to the whole stain.”

  “But there’s an outside chance all that blood wasn’t his?” Claudia asked.