Читать книгу Perfect Partners? - C.J. Carmichael - Страница 10

LINDSAY STARED AT NATHAN good and hard, but he just smiled with the confidence of someone who knew they were holding a winning hand. She couldn’t deny that she was happy to see him here. She didn’t want to turn down another case like the one her sister had just offered her. Nathan was the best—if not the only—solution to her problem.

“This is pretty audacious,” she finally allowed. “Bordering on insane. But okay. You have a deal.”

She held out a hand and they shook on it. The second his skin touched hers, though, she was reminded of the one reason this might not be a good idea after all.

Well, it was too late for a change of heart. Nadine was at the door, introducing the new client.

Celia Burchard was an exceptionally pretty woman, in her midtwenties, dressed as if she’d just stepped off a beach in sundress and flip-flops, with only a cotton sweater to protect her from the October weather. Glossy hair spilled like honey over shoulders still tanned from the summer.

“Nathan, thank you for agreeing to help me.” Her gaze slid to Lindsay. “I’m sorry, you’re busy. Do you want me to wait out in the hall?”

“This is Lindsay Fox. She’ll be working on your case, too. Come in.” Nathan moved from behind his desk to give the woman a hug.

Immediately Lindsay could tell these two had a history. It wasn’t just the hug. It was the way they looked at one another. She made a note to ask Nathan about it later. For now, she put on a professional smile of welcome.

Celia still hung back by the door. “I have to admit I’m a little nervous.”

“Understandable,” Nathan said. “You’ve been through a lot lately. Why don’t we move to the conference room. You’ll be more comfortable there.”

Lindsay didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. He was acting as if he’d worked here for weeks, or months.

Did he even know where the conference room was?

She waited for him to hesitate or shoot her a questioning look, but instead he headed confidently to the hall on the other side of Nadine’s desk and opened the door to the left.

“Would you please bring in coffee, Nadine?” he asked, before ushering Celia inside.

Lindsay thought her receptionist might be put out at this request from someone who hadn’t even been added to the payroll, yet, but she seemed only too pleased to spring to her feet and oblige. A minute later, Nadine returned with a tray of coffees and water.

She glanced around the room, and noticing the sun streaming in from the window at an uncomfortable angle, she went to adjust the blind. When Lindsay went over to help, Nadine murmured, “I’m glad you changed your mind about Nathan.”

“I’m not sure I had a choice.” Lindsay gave the cord such a hard tug that the blinds crashed down to the sill. Nathan and Celia turned, startled.

“Sorry about that.” Nadine left the room, and Lindsay took a seat across from Nathan and Celia, who had selected chairs next to one another.

What a cute couple they made. But if they were indeed dating, she was going to kill Nathan for not coming clean about the relationship from the beginning.

Celia glanced around, taking in the ultramodern table and steel chairs, then focusing on the black-framed photographs hanging on the steel-colored walls.

She squinted at the artwork. “Are those close-ups of paper clips?”

“Yes,” Lindsay said, admiring them anew.

“Interesting. If you ever decide to go with a warmer look you should visit my mother’s art gallery. I’d be happy to make some suggestions.”

Ouch. Lindsay wasn’t sure what hurt more. Celia’s critique of her artistic taste, or Nathan’s amused smile. She supposed she should be glad Nadine, at least, had left the room and wasn’t here to add her own indictment.

“Should we start?” She glanced at Nathan, who nodded.

“Celia, why don’t you summarize the situation so we can bring Lindsay up to speed?”

“It’s all such a horrible mess, I hardly know where to begin.”

Lindsay tapped her pen impatiently on her notebook. “Why don’t you start with the day your mother shot your father in the butt, and we’ll go from there.”

Celia’s eyes widened at her blunt tone. “It’s not that easy, okay? You have no idea how awful it is to see my own parents on the cover of newspapers and trashy magazines. To have the world talking about my personal family business.”

“I do sympathize.” Far more than Celia could ever guess. “But unfortunately we have no control over the media, if that’s what you’re after.”

“I don’t expect you to stop them. I just want the truth. The police seem happy to take Dad’s story at face value. They hardly investigated at all. And Mom’s preliminary hearing was a joke. It’s so unfair. I don’t understand how Dad can let them put her through this.”

“He was shot, right? Presumably that was upsetting.”

“The bullet only grazed his rear end. He’s fine. He should have told the police it was an accident.”

“Was it?”

“It must have been.”

“But your dad says it wasn’t. And your mom?”

“She can’t remember.”

How convenient, Lindsay thought. She glanced at Nathan, who remained quiet. He seemed content for her to handle the questions for now. She turned back to Celia. “You’re sure she doesn’t remember?”

“Are you suggesting my mother is lying?” Affronted, Celia turned to Nathan, who covered her hand supportively.

Lindsay found this annoying. It wasn’t their job to counsel distraught clients. They were investigators, for God’s sake.

“I’m not suggesting anything,” Lindsay replied levelly. “Just asking if you’re sure.”

“My mother can’t remember. It isn’t an act—she never lies. She’s been released on bail with the condition that she receive counseling. I think the judge is hoping that her memory will eventually return. But…”

“Yes?” Nathan encouraged her.

“I don’t think it will. And that worries me because she’s so busy blaming herself for what happened, she isn’t even trying to protect herself.”

“You’re not worried she might shoot your father again now that she’s out on bail?” Lindsay asked.

“No! I’m telling you it was all an accident. She never intended to hurt him.”

“Why doesn’t your father believe that?”

“I don’t know.” Celia turned to Nathan. “Why is she being so mean?”

Lindsay glanced at Nathan, reacting to his quickly truncated smile with a roll of her eyes. If he wanted to coddle this woman, that was his business. She had little patience for emotionally needy clients.

“Let’s start at the beginning,” Nathan suggested, gently easing his hand away from Celia’s. “The morning of August 18. It was shortly after breakfast. Your parents were alone at their lodge in the Catskills when your father told your mom he wanted a divorce. I know it’s painful, Celia, but can you describe what happened next?”

“I only know what Dad has told us. They argued and, according to him, Mom picked up the shotgun he uses for hunting pheasants and started threatening him.”

“The gun was just sitting there?” Lindsay asked.

“Apparently Dad had been planning a hunting expedition for later that day and he’d had his gun out of the cabinet where it was usually locked.”

“Isn’t early morning the best time for hunting pheasants?” Lindsay asked.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Celia asked, turning again to Nathan for support.

He just patted her hand. “She’s being thorough, Celia. That’s all.”

Lindsay ignored the sidebars. “Was the gun loaded?”

“Obviously, since my father was shot.”

“Did your mother load it, or was it loaded when she picked it up?” Lindsay asked more specifically.

“It was loaded. I think. Anyway, it went off—accidentally. Mom sort of lost consciousness for a while and when she came to, Dad asked her to phone for help because he’d been shot. I guess there was quite a bit of blood, even though his injury was minor.”

“You don’t seem very upset about the fact that your father was shot.”

“Well, I’m sorry it happened. But Dad wasn’t the one who ended up getting arrested and being charged with a crime he didn’t commit.”

Lindsay could see that Celia was becoming overwrought again. She sighed and gave the woman a moment to collect herself. Celia drank some coffee and whispered something to Nathan. He said something back, his tone low and reassuring.

Where did he get the patience?

But then, Celia was an awfully pretty girl.

Finally Lindsay could wait no longer. “If your mother accepts your father’s version of that day’s events, why can’t you?”

“I know my mother. Nathan’s met her, too. Can you imagine Audrey shooting anyone?” she asked him.

“Not easily,” he admitted. “But even good people make mistakes.”

“Mistakes, yes, but shooting your husband?”

“These weren’t normal circumstances,” Lindsay reminded her. “People change when they’re under duress. How long were your parents married?”

“Twenty-five years.”

“That’s a lot of time to have invested in a relationship. When your father told her he wanted a divorce she must have been devastated. Trust me, divorce never brings out the best in people.”

“But that’s something else I can’t understand. My parents were happy together. Really, they were.”

“Children are often the last to know about these things,” Nathan pointed out gently.

“Maybe. I could probably accept that I simply wasn’t aware of the problems in their relationship. But I will never be able to accept that my mother would deliberately shoot my father. She was scared of his guns. Wouldn’t even touch them.”

“Why isn’t your mother here with you?” Lindsay wondered.

“She didn’t want me to hire an investigator,” Celia said. “But her lawyer thinks it’s a good idea. And since I knew Nathan…”

“Right,” Lindsay said. She’d already decided to take on this case, but she wanted to make sure the parameters were wide-open. “We will need to question both of your parents. Do you think they’ll cooperate with us?”

“I’ll make sure they do.”

“Good. I think that wraps things up nicely,” she said crisply.

Nathan offered to walk Celia to her car, and once they’d left, Lindsay reflected on the meeting. Celia seemed like a sweet, somewhat naive person, someone whose life had been uncomplicated until events completely beyond her control had shattered everything from the foundation up.

Celia may have found her unsympathetic during the meeting, but the truth was Lindsay had related with her more than the other woman could have ever guessed.

But Celia wasn’t paying them for sympathy. She wanted the truth.

The facts of the shooting seemed incontrovertible. Though they often had visitors, Audrey and Maurice had been alone at the lodge that weekend—which was to be expected. If Maurice had planned to tell Audrey he wanted out of the marriage, he’d want privacy. Maurice couldn’t very well have shot himself in the butt with a shotgun—not even a grazing shot. So Audrey must have done it.

The problem with the scenario, however, was that it didn’t fit with the personalities of the people involved. Unless Celia’s assessment of her parents and their troubles was all wrong.

Celia was far from an objective bystander, after all.

Finally Lindsay stood and stretched.

Damn Nathan for knowing her so well. He’d guessed she’d be intrigued by this case, and she was.