Tell Me Your Dreams. Sidney Sheldon

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ

      The two men walked out onto the work floor.

      Shane Miller raised his voice. “May I have your attention, please? This is Deputy Blake. He’d like to ask a few questions.”

      The employees had stopped what they were doing and were listening.

      Deputy Blake said, “I’m sure that all of you have heard what happened to Mr. Tibbie. We need your help in finding out who killed him. Do any of you know of any enemies he had? Anyone who hated him enough to want to murder him?” There was a silence. Blake went on. “There was a woman he was interested in marrying. Did he discuss her with any of you?”

      Ashley was finding it difficult to breathe. Now was the time to speak up. Now was the time to tell the deputy what Tibbie had done to her. But Ashley remembered the look on her father’s face when she had told him about it. They would blame him for the murder.

      Her father could never kill anyone.

      He was a doctor.

      He was a surgeon.

      Dennis Tibbie had been castrated.

      Deputy Blake was saying, “… and none of you saw him after he left here on Friday?”

      Toni Prescott thought, Go ahead. Tell him, Miss Goody Two-shoes. Tell him you went to his apartment. Why don’t you speak up?

      Deputy Blake stood there a moment, trying to hide his disappointment. “Well, if any of you remembers anything that might be helpful, I’d appreciate it if you’d give me a call. Mr. Miller has my number. Thank you.”

      They watched as he moved toward the exit with Shane.

      Ashley felt faint with relief.

      Deputy Blake turned to Shane. “Was there anyone here he was particularly close to?”

      “No, not really,” Shane said. “I don’t think Dennis was close to anybody. He was very attracted to one of our computer operators, but he never got anywhere with her.”

      Deputy Blake stopped. “Is she here now?”

      “Yes, but—”

      “I’d like to talk to her.”

      “All right. You can use my office.” They walked back into the room, and Ashley saw them coming. They were headed straight for her cubicle. She could feel her face redden.

      “Ashley, Deputy Blake would like to talk to you.”

      So he knew! He was going to ask her about her visit to Tibbie’s apartment. I’ve got to be careful, Ashley thought.

      The deputy was looking at her. “Do you mind, Miss Patterson?”

      She found her voice. “No, not at all.” She followed him into Shane Miller’s office.

      “Sit down.” They both took chairs. “I understand that Dennis Tibbie was fond of you?”

      “I—I suppose …” Careful. “Yes.”

      “Did you go out with him?”

      Going to his apartment would not be the same as going out with him. “No.”

      “Did he talk to you about this woman he wanted to marry?”

      She was getting in deeper and deeper. Could he be taping this? Maybe he already knew she had been in Tibbie’s apartment. They could have found her fingerprints. Now was the time to tell the deputy what Tibbie had done to her. But if I do, Ashley thought in despair, it will lead to my father, and they’ll connect that to Jim Cleary’s murder. Did they know about that, too? But the police department in Bedford would have no reason to notify the police department in Cupertino. Or would they?

      Deputy Blake was watching her, waiting for an answer. “Miss Patterson?”

      “What? Oh, I’m sorry. This has got me so upset …”

      “I understand. Did Tibbie ever mention this woman he wanted to marry?”

      “Yes … but he never told me her name.” That, at least, was true.

      “Have you ever been to Tibbie’s apartment?”

      Ashley took a deep breath. If she said no, the questioning would probably end. But if they had found her fingerprints … “Yes.”

      “You have been to his apartment?”

      “Yes.”

      He was looking at her more closely now. “You said you’d never been out with him.”

      Ashley’s mind was racing now. “That’s right. Not on a date, no. I went to bring him some papers he had forgotten.”

      “When was this?”

      She felt trapped. “It was … it was about a week ago.”

      “And that’s the only time you’ve been to his place?”

      “That’s right.”

      Now if they had her fingerprints, she would be in the clear.

      Deputy Blake sat there, studying her, and she felt guilty. She wanted to tell him the truth. Maybe some burglar had broken in and killed him—the same burglar who had killed Jim Cleary ten years earlier and three thousand miles away. If you believed in coincidences. If you believed in Santa Claus. If you believed in the tooth fairy.

       Damn you, Father.

      Deputy Blake said, “This is a terrible crime. There doesn’t seem to be any motive. But you know, in all the years I’ve been on the force, I’ve never seen a crime without a motive.” There was no response. “Do you know if Dennis Tibbie was into drugs?”

      “I’m sure he wasn’t.”

      “So what do we have? It wasn’t drugs. He wasn’t robbed. He didn’t owe anybody money. That kind of leaves a romantic situation, doesn’t it? Someone who was jealous of him.”

       Or a father who wanted to protect his daughter.

      “I’m as puzzled as you are, Deputy.”

      He stared at her for a moment and his eyes seemed to say, “I don’t believe you, lady.”

      Deputy Blake got to his feet. He took out a card and handed it to Ashley. “If there’s anything you can think of, I’d appreciate your giving me a call.”

      “I’ll be happy to.”

      “Good day.”

      She watched him leave. It’s over. Father’s in the clear.

      When Ashley returned to her apartment that evening, there was a message on the answering machine: “You got СКАЧАТЬ