The more she saw of Gibbs, the more frightening he became. The longer Ryder was with him, the more her sister seemed to take on his crude style, and this distressed Lindsey. Ryder didn't need Gibbs's trashy influence on her behavior and her future.
Nearing the condo and slowing, she wasn't sure what she meant to do. Having convinced herself that the body in the ruins was Nina, she wanted to confront Gibbs, confront the two of them.
And…what?
Accuse them? See how they reacted?
Yes, she could do that. Put herself in danger, and force Gibbs to run. Destroy whatever procedure Detectives Garza and Davis meant to follow.
Yet the anger and hurt that seethed inside her, the sense of injustice, made her burn to take action, to do something positive.
Two blocks before she reached the condo she rummaged in her purse for her cell phone, for a bit of added security-and remembered that she didn't have it. Had left it on the dresser. Had thought she wouldn't need it at the locker, left it collecting her clients' messages to play back later.
She thought of going back to get it, but that would take time. For no reason, a sense of urgency filled her. Instead of going back, she looked for a parking place where she wouldn't be seen from the upper windows.
She had no proof that the body was Nina's or that she'd died about the same time as Carson. Or that Ray Gibbs had killed either of them. She was following her own line of reasoning, which could be way off base. But she felt so sure that jealousy had been the motive. Ray jealous because he knew Nina was with Carson. Or Nina jealous because Carson was getting married. Maybe she'd followed him up there. And maybe Ray followed her, to kill them both.
All conjecture. But jealousy was among the most ancient reasons for murder, along with hatred and greed. Basic emotions dating back to the time of the caveman-and that thought brought a bitter smile, because the more she saw of Ray Gibbs the more she saw in him exactly that caveman mentality, an uncaring creature who hadn't quite made the grade to full humanity.
WHEN CLYDE PULLED into their drive behind Ryan's truck, Joe slid out of the roadster on the far side where Mike wouldn't see him and dove into the bushes, his mind filled with Lindsey's determined look as she'd gotten into Ryan's truck with Mike to return to the village-but determined to do what? Had she told Mike she was going straight home, to get to work? After all, it was tax season. From the look on her face, Joe thought she meant to do otherwise.
Mike had left his new Lexus van parked in front of the Damen house early this morning, and now he and Ryan stood beside it talking as Clyde made a show of calling Joe.
Waiting a few moments to make it look good, Joe sauntered out from the bushes as if he'd been there all the while, sleeping or hunting gophers. He glanced at Ryan, a sly and conspiratorial exchange. He rubbed against Clyde's ankles in loving greeting, a nice touch that didn't escape Mike. Then he trotted off across the little front lawn, skinned up the oak tree, and disappeared from their view in acceptable feline style. And he took off across the roofs, heading fast for Gibbs's condo. Clyde had no time to call him back, and couldn't have argued with him anyway in front of his father-in-law.
AT MOLENA POINT PD, Dulcie knew neither that Sage had run away and Charlie and Kit were following him, nor that at that moment Joe was bolting across the roofs above her, heading straight into trouble. She sat on the dispatcher's counter sharing Mabel's roast beef sandwich, waiting for an update on what had happened at the ruins, waiting impatiently for Joe.
Looking out the glass door, she saw Ryan and Mike drop Lindsey off, saw Rock in the king cab happily hanging his head out the window. She'd heard enough from Mabel's conversation with Dallas to know that Rock had found the grave, and that both detectives and the coroner had been called. She was excited for and proud of Rock. And she was proud, indeed, of Joe, that he had pulled this off. She was licking roast beef from her whiskers when Ryan's pickup moved away and Dallas's Blazer pulled into the red zone.
Hurrying in, Dallas stopped at the desk to speak to Mabel. A moment later, down the hall, Detective Davis came in from the back parking lot, heading for the front desk.
"You want to bring Gibbs in?" Dallas asked her. "As a person of interest?" That brought Dulcie to full attention. Ray Gibbs? Why would…?
"If he's innocent," Davis was saying, "he should be eager to find out if that's Nina, to help us ID her-relieved to know what happened to her."
Oh my, Dulcie thought. Was that Nina Gibbs, in that grave?
"Maybe he can come up with the name of her dentist," Dallas said. "We'll bring him in."
"And set up a watch on their condo?" Davis said. Dallas nodded. They glanced up as Mike Flannery pulled up out front in his new van, which he'd left at Clyde's early this morning. He came in frowning, stood absently petting Dulcie.
"What?" Dallas said, watching him.
Mike frowned. "Lindsey worries me. When I let her out to get her car, when she thought we were gone, she took off like a scalded cat." He glanced at Dulcie and grinned as if he'd made a politically incorrect blunder. Dulcie had to wash her paws to hide her amusement.
"It's tax season," Dallas said, and headed down the hall. "She'll be covered up with work." He turned into the conference/coffee room, where Dulcie could hear him giving orders to one of the officers to get into civilian clothes, take a civilian car, and start a watch on Gibbs's condo. The tabby sat staring out through the glass door, watching impatiently for Joe, to tell her exactly what had happened. With everyone back from the ruins, from exhuming the body and photographing and taking evidence, Clyde and Joe should be home, and the first place Joe would head would be the station, not to miss any follow-up on the unidentified body. Eagerly Dulcie waited-she waited a long time, but Joe Grey did not appear.
JOE, HAVING DESCENDED from the roofs to Fourth Street, was crossing a busy side street, padding impatiently along in the wake of a pair of dawdling tourists to avoid being squashed by oncoming cars, when he saw Lindsey's car a block ahead, moving slowly toward the condo. Reaching the curb, he ran, brushing against a woman's bare ankles, startling a scream from her, ran dodging other legs, keeping the tan Mercedes in sight. When Lindsey pulled over, parking beneath a small oak that would shelter her car from the view above, Joe dived into the shadows of a shop door. Watching her swing out fast and hurry into an antiques shop, the tomcat smiled-she was in such a rush that she'd left the driver's door ajar. Or maybe had left it so on purpose, for a quick reentry?
She stood within the shadows of the shop looking out, watching the condo. Why would she think she'd have to move fast? She must really believe that was Nina in that grave, and that Gibbs or Ryder had killed her. That was a lot of conjecture. And even so, why was she in such a hurry?
Had she seen the spying figure, seen it slip quickly away? Had she seen Ryder or Gibbs watching them? Or was she only guessing?
Crouching behind a redwood planter near where she'd parked, Joe settled in to wait. He'd barely fixed on the condo again when Ray and Ryder came hurrying down the outside stairs, Ray carrying a duffel bag, Ryder dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, Levi's jacket, and old jogging shoes-he'd never seen her when she wasn't dressed to the teeth. Racing down into the condo's garage, they disappeared. At the same moment Lindsey left the shop, moving fast, heading for her car.
Joe moved faster. Under the cover of the planter and a pair of tourists, he reached the car before her, slipped in through the cracked-open door, was inside and over the backseat, crouching on the floor, when Lindsey swung in.