The Virgin Mistress. Linda Turner

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СКАЧАТЬ suspected that there had been two attempts against Joe’s life that night. They’d gone over the grounds with a fine-tooth comb and completely missed the fact that she’d put poison in Joe’s champagne right before the birthday toast.

      Poison, she thought resentfully, that he’d never gotten a chance to drink. He’d dropped the glass when the shooter took a shot at him.

      Thankfully, the poisoned champagne had soaked into the ground when it spilled and there was no evidence to connect her to an attempt against Joe’s life. But Patsy wasn’t stupid enough to think that she was out of the woods. Not now. Not with Austin on the case. She’d heard of the cases he’d solved in Portland, cases that his co-workers had long since given up on. When he’d quit the police department after he’d been shot in a shoot-out with drug lords, his supervisors had tried everything they could to change his mind, even going so far as to promise him outrageous promotions if he’d only stay. A man like that wouldn’t rest until he cracked a case and hunted down all guilty parties.

      And that infuriated her. Damn Joe! When she’d found out he’d hired Austin, she’d wanted to poison his drink all over again. He’d given him a key to the house, for God’s sake! He could come and go as he pleased, and just thinking about it made her break out in a cold sweat. If she hadn’t already been on the patio chewing out Inez she never would have known he was there!

      So what the hell was she going to do about him?

      Keep a close eye on him and distract him as much as possible from his investigation without being obvious, she concluded. It was the only way. But dammit, she couldn’t watch the front door every minute of the day!

      Fuming, desperate for her pills, she sank down into one of the patio chairs and gave him a look of concern that could have fooled the Pope himself. “I never thought to ask the police, but do you think it’s safe for us to still use the patio? What if the man who tried to kill Joe is still out there somewhere, watching us?”

      Her eyes deliberately wide, she turned to look out at the magnificent view of the ocean and was proud of the little shiver of fear she was able to manufacture. “He could be in a boat, with a high-powered rifle, pretending to be fishing and waiting for a chance to kill us all…”

      “What makes you think it’s a man?”

      Expecting him to rush to reassure her that she had no need to be afraid, Patsy blinked. “Well, because it is!”

      “How do you know that? Did you see the shooter?”

      “No, of course not. I didn’t see anything.”

      “But you were standing right next to Joe, weren’t you? I believe he pulled you down to the ground when the shot rang out. What happened right before that? Were you looking out at the crowd? Did you notice anyone who looked particularly angry? You must have seen something.”

      Furious that he was putting her on the spot, it was all she could do not to cuss him out. Damn him, who did he think he was, questioning her? She was Mrs. Joe Colton, by God, even if she wasn’t the real Meredith, and she didn’t have to take this from him or anyone else!

      But even as the hot words sprang to her tongue, she bit them back. No, she thought furiously. She’d be damned if she’d let him push her into losing control and destroying everything. Because once she lost it, she wasn’t sure she would ever get it back again, and that terrified her. She wasn’t going back to the St. James Clinic! she thought fiercely. Or any other lockup for crazies. There was nothing wrong with her. She just had to remain calm and think straight.

      It wasn’t easy. There was a tight knot of nerves in her gut that burned like the fires of hell. “It all happened so fast, it’s hard to remember what happened,” she said stiffly. “Before the shooting, I was busy playing hostess and making sure there was plenty of champagne for the toasts. When the shot rang out, I was looking at Joe, just like everyone else. I didn’t see anything.”

      That seemed to be the favorite line of everyone he talked to, Austin thought in annoyance, and that was nothing short of amazing. A man had nearly been killed in front of three hundred guests, and no one claimed to have seen anything!

      Frowning, he said, “So you don’t know who was standing at the edge of the crowd? You didn’t see anyone sneak off into the shadows? Hell, I’d be happy if you could just tell me if anyone disappeared for a while. But I guess you didn’t notice that, either.”

      When she gave him a look that should have dropped him in his tracks, Austin expected her to blast him with a few choice words, but he had to give her credit. Visibly holding on to her temper, she said tightly, “No, I didn’t. I told you I was busy. There’s nothing else I can say.”

      If she wasn’t going to be any help to him, Austin wished she would find something else to do and leave him alone so he could work, but that, apparently wasn’t going to happen. Instead of excusing herself, she settled more comfortably in her chair, as if she was prepared to stay awhile, probably as long as he was there. And there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. This was her house, after all. He couldn’t very well demand that she make herself scarce in her own home.

      Resigned, he said, “According to Joe’s written notes of the shooting, the two of you were standing on the stage for the band, but he doesn’t say where that was.”

      “It was set up at the end of the patio, on the left side,” she retorted. “It was so crowded, a lot of the guests had spilled from the patio out onto the lawn.”

      “And the shot came from out in the yard somewhere?”

      She shrugged. “It’s hard to say. The floodlights for the stage were blinding and it was impossible to see anything beyond the edge of the patio.”

      Disgusted, Austin swore softly. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

      Standing at the edge of the patio, he surveyed the surrounding area with a scowl and silently acknowledged that the shooter had chosen a perfect setting in which to try to commit murder. He’d waited until it was dark, and the house and patio were crawling with people. When it came time for the toast, everyone was looking at Joe, so all the shooter had to do was stand at the back of the crowd, wait for the right moment to pull the trigger, then step back into the darkness, just beyond the reach of the lights. In the chaos that followed the shooting, he could have walked around the house, entered through the front door and merged with the rest of the party-goers and no one would have suspected a thing.

      “Whoever did this had to be nuts,” he said half to himself. “Joe’s not the kind to generate anger in people—he makes friends wherever he goes. I can’t believe anyone would hate him enough to try to kill him.”

      “It does seem crazy,” Meredith agreed. “But there’s a lot of nuts walking around loose. And Joe is so easy-going that he thinks everyone is like him. But they’re not. Not everyone can let bygones be bygones. Joe always got along with the parents of the foster children we raised, but deep down inside, some of them had to resent the fact that they weren’t raising their own children. Who knows? Maybe one of them was the shooter.”

      That was an option Austin hadn’t even considered. At this point, he couldn’t overlook anyone. Turning back to Meredith he pulled the guest list from the notebook he’d brought with him. “I’ll need to know which of the guests are from the foster families.”

      Only too happy to direct suspicion away from herself, Patsy obligingly gave him the names.

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