“Cool. I’ve got dibs on the master bedroom. Did you see that bath? It’s a freaking Jacuzzi.”
Everything in my life was measured in terms of before Salyer and after Salyer. Before, I would have laughed at Max’s childish excitement. Of course, except for Salyer, we wouldn’t be there. We would be working our own cases. Max would still have the use of his legs, and his wife wouldn’t have filed for divorce. And I wouldn’t have to go through the rooms, removing every mirror in the house so I never have to look at myself again.
“It’s all yours, partner. Do you need me to help you unpack?”
“Nah, I got it. There’s a grill out back on the patio. Figured I’d run into town or get a grocery delivery. Anything special you want?”
“Something stronger than coffee.” I moved down the hallway. “Call in a delivery. Neither of us should be going anywhere alone until we figure out what’s going on here.”
I dropped my cases on the floor of the second bedroom and opened the drapes. The house next door was a replica of the one we were staying in. It didn’t look like a bachelor pad, but Browne hadn’t mentioned a Mrs. Browne. I let the drapes fall back into place. I’d smelled the liquor on his breath at the morgue, and I’d seen the shadows in his eyes. That told me Gabriel Browne had secrets. He’d jumped on the idea of using me as bait too quickly. I had a gut feeling that had been his plan all along. So what are you up to, Gabriel Browne, and why did you want me here?
Gabriel closed the curtains and took a sip of whiskey. He’d quit after that glass. The taste was turning sour. It hadn’t erased the images or the guilt. At least Max had answered the door when he’d dropped off the envelope. He doubted he would have been able to hide the pity in his eyes if he’d seen her. He, better than anyone, knew pity was the last thing Dakota Dale wanted. The two of them had a lot in common.
His gaze strayed to the psychological file. He needed to read it. Sighing, he flopped into the armchair, placed his drink on a coaster, and picked up the folder. “Let’s see if I can figure out what makes you tick.”
The photo attached to the left-hand side caught his attention. It was the first before-Salyer picture he’d seen. He’d been right. She had passion in her eyes. They also held laughter. He would bet that week’s pay that Max had taken the picture, or someone who knew her and cared about her. She’d been younger then too. With her looks and money, he had to wonder why she’d become a cop. He reached for the glass and downed the remaining liquor, grimacing as he began to read. One thing was clear from the beginning—the psychiatrist was an ass.
5
“Hungry, Dakota?” Christian eyed me as he bit into the hamburger then washed it down with water. “How long has it been now? Two days?”
“Three.”
He moved his chair closer to the bars. “Poor little rich girl. You never lacked for anything, did you?” He laughed. “Cry for me, Dakota. Cry as if your life depended on it, because it does.”
“You mind if I smoke?” Browne interrupted my thoughts, rolled down his window, and lit a cigarette.
“It’s your vehicle.” Maybe I would get lucky and it would also mask the smell of the burger he’d just devoured for breakfast. There was definitely no Mrs. Browne.
“Not really mine. Belongs to the county. They frown on smoking in it, but what are they gonna do? Fire me?” He chuckled, took a deep puff, and blew smoke out the window.
“You must be good at your job.” I studied the countryside gliding by. We’d never considered that Salyer might be in Georgia. “I would have fired you this morning for smoking and the liquor on your breath.”
“Everybody’s got a vice, Dale.” He shot a glance my way. “You ever smile?”
“Only when I have to.” I sighed. “For the record, I hate small talk, and in case you haven’t noticed, I prefer to work alone. I guess for the next few days, you’re my vice.”
He laughed and glanced in his rearview mirror. “Me and that horde on our tail. You want to talk to them today or put it off?”
I looked in the side mirror, immediately recognizing the news van. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll write what they want to write regardless of whether I talk to them or not.”
“You want some advice?”
The corners of my lips actually lifted. “From you? No, but I’m sure you’re going to give it anyway.”
“If Salyer is still alive, you’re making him awful happy right now.”
“Go to hell, Browne. You don’t know anything about me.” Why doesn’t he just shut up?
“I know enough to know Salyer put you through hell. After seeing what being there has done to you, I’m seriously considering going to church.” He coughed and tossed the cigarette. “What happened to you was horrible, but you survived. His other victims can’t say that.”
“Is there a reason you’re trying to piss me off this morning?” I studied his stiff profile and tightly wound hands around the wheel. “Or is that just your general charming nature?”
He shrugged. “Just saying. Salyer wanted you dead. Looks like he got his wish.”
“He didn’t want me dead. If he had, he wouldn’t have called my father and told him where to find me.”
Browne turned quickly to face me, mouth gaping, as he swerved off the road. “That wasn’t in your file.” He brought the car back under control. “Something like that should have been in there.”
“There are a lot of things not in my file, Browne. We didn’t know about the call until after my father’s death. Max and I found the note he’d written when we were going through his things. Dad was a stickler for making notes. He’d dated it, written down the caller’s phone number, and tagged it as a tip for my whereabouts. Then he wrote apple orchard and underlined it. The call came in from Salyer’s mobile.”
“And he didn’t call the police?” Browne raised an eyebrow.
“No, he grabbed the gardener and rushed to the orchard. He suffered a stroke when he saw me. That’s why he was never able to tell me or anyone else about the call.” We were nearing the Clark mansion. “Letting me live was Salyer’s final punishment.”
“You should have turned that note in.”
He didn’t add the rest, but I knew what he was thinking. The note would have been further proof against Salyer. I could have turned it in, but my father was dead, Max knew the truth, and no one else mattered at the time. “If it isn’t too much trouble for you, could we talk about the family and the case?”
“We can, but there’s not much more than what was in the paperwork. The Clark family moved here ten years ago when the parents retired. Mr. and Mrs. Clark were killed in an automobile accident last year, leaving Amanda and Angelina as two of Savannah’s most eligible females. Suitors flocked to them, but to the best of our knowledge, Angelina wasn’t dating or seeing anyone.”
“So her sister is the only one who will profit from her death?”
“We’ll be interviewing Amanda and her current suitor, James Day. He’s a local lawyer. We ran a background check on him, but nothing seems out of whack. If you know what I mean.”
I did know what he meant. Nothing was out of whack in Christian Salyer’s background, either. The criminally insane didn’t have a mode of dress, a pattern of behavior, or a bright-red flag to warn off victims.