A Justified Murder (Medlar Mystery #2)(28)

“So what is it you want to talk to me about?”

Jack gave a half smile. “You’re beginning to know me too well.”

He went to a car wash on Sunrise, drove onto the ramps, then turned to her. The loudly gushing water made the inside of the car seem very private.

“This morning I wouldn’t let Gil near a saw or a nail gun. If you plugged it in, I kept him away from it. Even so, he fell down four rungs of a ladder.”

“Is he okay?”

“Bloody shins but he’ll live.”

She could tell that he had something serious to say so she waited in silence.

“On the phone, Gil told Tayla that he had to watch Quinn every minute. I thought it was because he was a kid. But today when I asked him how his son was, I saw fear in Gil’s eyes. Deep, gut-level fear.”

Kate felt her heart do a leap. This summer Gil had often brought his son over to play in the pool. The nine-year-old boy was smart, funny, and happy. And he adored his big bear of a father. Kate had helped Quinn put on a surprise birthday party for Gil at Sara’s house. They’d bought a cake at the local bakery, and Jack had helped the child order a new hand plane from a specialty store in Vermont. At the party, it had been heartwarming to see the way Gil and his son hugged. It was as though their strength came from each other.

One time, Kate asked about Quinn’s mother, but Jack just said, “She’s out of the picture,” then walked away.

“Quinn is Gil’s life,” she said softly.

Jack was looking at the big yellow brushes going around the car. “Ten years ago, Gil went on vacation to California and he met her in a bar.” He didn’t bother to explain that he was talking about Quinn’s mother. “It was a one-nighter, but he did give her his email address. He didn’t hear from her until Quinn was three months old. Gil flew back, ready to move to California and help raise his son.”

Jack hesitated. “But the woman was using. Gil had a DNA test done and it was positive, so he knew Quinn was his. He gave her every dollar he’d saved over the years and he brought the baby home. He’s not seen or heard from her since. If Gil is this afraid, then it’s my guess that she’s reentered the picture.”

He paused a moment and Kate waited. “Last night I was thinking about Janet Beeson. She seemed to want to help everyone. What if Quinn’s mother showed up here with a sob story? Women tend to believe whoever cries.”

When Kate made no reply, Jack said, “No argument on that sexist statement?”

“Tears are usually a sign of pain. We notice, we care. Have you ever seen the woman?”

“Never. And no photos.”

Kate put her head back against the seat. “Was there any paperwork between her and Gil?”

“None, and she is his biological mother. That carries a lot of weight.”

“All this is speculation,” Kate said. “We don’t know that any of this is true, and we certainly have no way to connect Quinn’s mother to Janet Beeson.”

“Right. But we do know that Tayla and Gil are connected in some way.”

“And Charlene. I want to meet her.”

Jack gave her a sharp look. “We’re staying out of this, remember?”

“You mean you want Sara and me to stay out of it. But if this does have something to do with Gil and his son, I’m sure you’ll be there with your flaming sword out.” She caught her breath. “If Janet was being a misguided do-gooder, you don’t think Gil... I mean, he didn’t... He couldn’t have...”

“Murdered her?” Jack was looking straight out the windshield at the water coming down for the rinse. “If Quinn was threatened, yeah, I imagine Gil would do anything to protect his son. Even kill. But poison, knife and a bullet? No. That’s too violent, even for an angry father.”

Kate nodded in agreement. “Tayla called in sick this morning and we were all relieved. When she said ‘that house’ I assumed she meant the one Sylvia used to own.” Suddenly, Kate’s eyes widened.

“What?”

“Sheriff Flynn said that the listing for Janet’s house would be given to me. Not to Tayla, but to me. Maybe that was significant. Maybe I’m supposed to do something with that house.”

Blowers were drying the car.

“You think he was giving us a hint?” Jack sounded skeptical.

“Maybe. But why? I’m sure the house has been searched thoroughly.”

“And yet they didn’t find a California serial killer.” He looked at the dashboard clock. “We need to go meet Sara. Hungry?”

“Starving. Think they have any seafood?”

“It’s Florida. They can get fish from their backyard.”

Smiling, Kate looked at the scenery as they made their way to the restaurant.

“It’s good,” Kate said as she handed the pages of the police report back to Sara. They were sitting at their favorite outdoor café, close to what passed for the downtown of Lachlan.

Jack finished the last page and gave his copy to her. “Concise, not too windy. What about the photos?”

“Flynn hasn’t asked for them yet. I found this.” She pulled an 8x10 printout from a leather portfolio. It was a picture of a bookcase in Janet Beeson’s house. The second shelf had a row of bright, shiny novels with the name Amanda Martin on the spine.