Grace Among Thieves Part 20

I remembered what Frances had told me about Becke being back in town. "Yes, I've heard."

He brightened. "You have?"

"Word gets around."

It was either my tone or my expression, but Jack started to get the message. Yet he persisted with the cheerful commentary. "What you did for me and my family has made a difference. Now that people realize I'm not a killer, business has really picked up. I've got a handful of clients already and more waiting in the wings."

"That's great."

"I have you to thank for it."

Irritation strangled me. He'd had weeks to start this conversation, but he'd waited until after he'd seen me in the company of another man to start talking again?

He took my silence as encouragement to continue. "All these new clients make me believe the folks in Emberstowne are trying to make up for lost time."

"What about you? Are you making up for lost time?"

I could tell I'd confused him. He took a step closer. "If you're talking about us," he began, "I'd like to apologize-"

"I'm talking about Becke." Even as the words rushed out I couldn't believe I was actually saying them. It wasn't that I enjoyed making him uncomfortable. Rather, I wanted to get this topic out in the open so we could deal with it and move on. Maybe then I'd stop second-guessing my feelings for Mark.

His expression swung from disbelief, to indignation, and finally to repentance. "What have you heard?"

More in control of my emotions than I'd ever been around Jack in the past, I didn't see reason to provide answers. "Enough."

Staring at the ground, he rubbed a hand across his forehead as he sought to explain. "I don't know what you think-"

"It doesn't matter."

His head snapped up. "Of course it does. You're hurt."

"I'm not," I a.s.sured him. That was a lie, but it felt good to say. "I'm simply moving on. We tried. It didn't work."

"You tried." His tone was melancholy. "It's my fault. I kept pus.h.i.+ng you away. I've isolated myself for so long that I don't know how to share. Especially with you, after all that happened. But I really am trying to relearn how to be there for another person."

"You seem to be doing very well with Becke." As the snippy comment fell out, I thought: So much for pretending not to be hurt.

"Becke." He said her name with more helplessness than affection. He ran his hands up the sides of his face. "Would you at least give me a chance to explain?"

"You don't owe me any explanation."

"Are you seeing someone?" he asked.

I was spared answering because at that moment my phone rang. I pulled up the handset to check caller ID. Mark. Pleasure flooded my entire body and I smiled. "I should take this," I said.

"You are seeing someone." He nodded toward the little phone. "And you're happy, aren't you?"

"I have to go."

I spied Tooney entering the walled garden from the far entrance. He was on his cell phone as well. As I started toward him and hit the b.u.t.ton that connected me to Mark, Jack grabbed my arm. "You're not seeing Tooney, are you? Romantically, I mean."

I burst out laughing. "No," I said, feeling ridiculously good all of a sudden. Jack stepped back, looking embarra.s.sed he'd asked. "Thanks," I said. "I needed that." Into the phone, I said, "Hey, how are you doing?"

I was so glad Mark had called. Even though he was fully apprised of the plans for the evening, it was great to hear his voice. "I'm kind of feeling as though I'm meeting your parents," he said with a chuckle. "I've got b.u.t.terflies in my stomach."

"Bennett can be imposing at first, but he's a wonderful man. You're going to love him." Truth was, I hoped that would be the case. Bennett's recent grilling about the possibility of Mark taking me away from Marshfield made me ever so slightly apprehensive. "Just do me one favor."

"Anything."

I loved the sound of that. "Don't . . ." I began, then hesitated.

"Come on. You can tell me."

"Bennett will probably not even mention it, but he may try to quiz you about the relations.h.i.+p you and I . . . have. Er . . . might have," I was suddenly fl.u.s.tered, " . . . are thinking of having. You know what I mean."

"I do. And I should try to keep him in the dark?"

"I think that would be best."

"Got it. Have fun tonight with whatever you have planned."

"I will. Let me know how it goes with Bennett."

"You know I will."

Tooney had seated himself on one of the stone benches that were interspersed along the paths. He patted the spot next to him when I approached. I sat.

"What have you got for me?" I asked when he hung up.

He scratched his nose then lifted his chin toward Jack, who was still in the garden, checking on rosebushes. "After all you and Embers have been through, how come you're not dating him?"

I was about to chastise Tooney for being nosy, but stopped myself. Even though it was none of his business, I found myself admitting, "I'm seeing someone else."

Tooney sat back. "No way."

"What? Don't tell me I've surprised you? I thought you kept up to date on everyone's comings and goings."

He seemed more taken aback than I would have expected. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"Mark Ellroy."

"The shooting victim?"

I nodded.

"Well, I'll be. Gotta confess, I didn't see that one coming."

He looked so nonplussed I had to laugh. "It's about time I managed to keep at least some of my personal life personal, don't you think?"

"I'm falling down on the job."

"Not if you have an update on the jacket for me."

"It's not much."

My heart sank. I didn't know what I'd been hoping Tooney might turn up, but the hangdog look on the private eye's face spoke volumes. "Give me what you've got."

"I found the jacket."

"That's huge," I said. "How on earth did you find it? Where is it? Better yet, where was it?"

He waited for me to settle down. "I turned it in to Rodriguez. The detective isn't sure they'll be able to get much from it forensically speaking, but they'll give it their best shot."

"Tooney, that's fabulous. What do you mean this isn't much? It's incredible. You've done what Rodriguez and Flynn weren't able to do. How did you find it?"

He held up a finger. "What would you do if you were the killer?"

I shrugged.

"You'd get away from here as fast as you could, right?"

"Right."

"But I got to thinking about the guy you saw at the Oak Tree Hotel. The one who acted kind of suspicious."

"Go on."

"For argument's sake, let's say he is the killer."

I nodded, wis.h.i.+ng he'd talk faster. "Spill it."

He shook the finger, silencing me. "Why is the guy still here?"

"I don't know. Why?"

"That," he said, "is the million-dollar question. He's staying for a reason-a good enough reason that he risks being caught."

I thought about it for a moment then told him about my contact at the Kane Estate. "According to her, the mansion suffered a few smaller thefts before the major heist-a heist that appeared to have been planned from the start. Do you think the killer is remaining here because his job isn't finished yet?"

"Was anything stolen the day Lenore was killed?"

I told him about the missing golden horn. "It's very valuable, but I wouldn't consider its theft a major heist by any stretch."

"That's what I suspected. He wants more."

"Are you going to tell me where you found the blazer or not?"

"Indulge me another minute. You're still the killer."

Biting back my impatience, I nodded.

"Word gets out fast about Lenore's murder and pretty soon everybody in Emberstowne knows that you were wearing a bootleg Marshfield blazer. You've got to get rid of it in a hurry."

I waited.

"If you're staying at the Oak Tree, you can't very well toss it into the trash can for the maids to clear, can you? You can't risk being seen stuffing it into a Dumpster, and you sure as heck can't wear it anywhere. It's got to go away where no one will find it for a long time. You've got to stash it where no one will think to look. And maybe even more important, where there are no security cameras to record your actions."

"You're making me crazy," I said.

"Working under the a.s.sumption that the guy you saw was the killer, I cased the joint."

My eyebrows arched.

Tooney's cheeks went pink. "I've always wanted to say that."

"Get on with it."

"I walked around the Oak Tree lobby, the outside, and the pool area trying to think of what I would do if I had to dump a sizeable piece of clothing fast. And just as I was standing outside the front doors it hit me."

I tried picturing it. When I'd exited the hotel with Mark, Jack had come across the street from his landscape project.

"The church?" I asked.

Tooney nodded encouragingly. "What's there? What's outside the church?"

"A parking lot," I said, picturing it again. At the far end of the parking lot was one of those giant metal boxes where kindhearted people donated their used clothing. "Tooney," I exclaimed. "You're a genius!"

He blushed. "Nah. It took me four times of standing out front to figure it out. Only took you a couple seconds. I had to ask the church permission to dig through, of course. With the way I dress and my reputation around town, if they saw me they'd probably think I was scrounging for free stuff."

"So, it was in there?" I asked, eager for him to continue.

"The guy was clever. He'd stuffed it into a plastic garbage bag and tied it shut so it looked like every other bag in there. He even added other clothes to plump the bag up. I wound up having to dig through two dozen bags before I found it."

"Good work. And Rodriguez has it now?"

"Yeah, but they don't think there's anything they're going to get from the blazer."

"What about hair samples, or DNA, or maybe even fingerprints?"

"Lifting fingerprints from fabric is tough. I heard about a new technology in Scotland that's making news-I keep on top of all that, you know-but I don't see them getting any good prints from this stuff. As far as hair and DNA, sure, that's great-but only if you have samples to compare them to. If the Kane Estate people share their samples we might get a match, but that's a long shot. There's no centralized database of DNA or hair for everybody on the planet."

I knew that, but I also knew that some offenders' samples were kept on file. Of course, if the Kane Estate people couldn't find the culprit with the help of federal authorities, what chance did we have with our inadequate police department?

Picking up the thread, Tooney continued, "For instance, you could probably get away with murder if you wanted. I bet you haven't ever done anything bad enough to get even your fingerprints on file."

I said, "I'll keep that in mind if I ever intend to plot anything." But I was thinking about that donation box. "Can't the police get a list of guests from the Oak Tree?"

"Oak Tree's being very cooperative. But no names on the list match any known suspects. He's probably using an alias anyway. That'll slow us down."