Hot Money Read online

  “I’m surprised you don’t bake bread yourself, then.”

  “I do,” she surprised him by saying. Then she chuckled. “Mostly, it’s inedible. Just ask Brian.”

  “Ask Brian what?” he chimed in from the back as they pulled into the crowded restaurant parking lot just off South Dixie Highway.

  “If my homemade bread is any good.”

  “Yuck,” he said succinctly. “But it smells pretty good.”

  “Talk about damning with faint praise,” Molly grumbled, but her spirits were slowly improving, as if just thinking about the housekeeper who’d been her surrogate mother had calmed her fears about Hal’s threats. Unfortunately, just as they were sitting down to the much delayed dinner, and just as she was pushing thoughts of her ex-husband out of her mind again, Michael brought everything back.

  “Have you considered sitting down and talking with the jerk?” he asked reasonably.

  Molly glanced at Brian, worried about his reaction to the start of this particular conversation. He was busy with the garlic roll he’d snatched up first thing to stave off starvation. He seemed far more interested in consuming the entire basket of rolls than in anything they might have to say.

  “Wouldn’t talking to DeWitt be better than a court fight?” Michael prodded.

  “I don’t have any idea what I could say to Hal that I haven’t said already,” Molly responded. “Besides, we never talk anymore. We argue. He attacks and I respond. It escalates from there. You’ve seen us in action yourself.”

  “I’ve also seen you be pretty persuasive when you set your mind to it.”

  “I wasn’t able to persuade you to help me find Tessa Lafferty’s killer,” she reminded him. “It took Detective Abrams to do that.”

  “That’s different.” He leaned closer and touched her cheek. “Talk to the man, Molly. You connected once. Surely neither of you has changed so much that you can’t manage to see eye to eye on something as important as Brian.”

  Molly wondered about that. She had changed tremendously since the days when she was a naive college girl who’d tumbled head over heels in love with handsome, self-confident Hal DeWitt. He had possessed all the strength and certainty that she hadn’t. It was only after she’d grown up, pretty much against his will, and discovered that she had a mind of her own that they’d begun to have problems.

  “If you want her to see my dad, does that mean you and Mom aren’t gonna get married?” Brian demanded indignantly once he’d polished off the entire basket of rolls, a salad, and two slices of pizza.

  Molly winced at the blunt question.

  “We’ll talk about that another time,” Michael told him, apparently unflustered by Brian’s enthusiasm for that particular solution. “Let’s see how things go.”

  “You won’t forget?” Brian prodded, apparently well aware of how any conversation Molly might have with his father was likely to go.

  Michael met his gaze evenly, man to man. “Have you ever known me to forget a promise?”

  Satisfied, Brian nodded. “Okay.”

  It seemed that the evening was destined to end with a lot of promises on the line. Reluctantly taking Michael’s advice to heart after he’d left her to do some more soul-searching, she dialed Hal’s home number.

  “We need to talk,” she announced without preamble. “Can you meet me in the Grove?”

  To her amazement, he didn’t argue. “When?”

  “A half hour at Cocowalk.”

  “What about Brian?”

  Molly resented the accusing tone of the question, but under the circumstances she supposed it was a fair one. “Liza will watch him. I’ll meet you in front and we’ll see which place has a quiet table.”

  Only when they were seated across from each other did she note the worry lines creasing his brow, the shadows beneath his clear blue eyes. He’d given up trying to disguise his receding hairline, which actually seemed sort of sexy on him.

  “You look lousy,” she told him.

  A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Is that supposed to win me over?”

  “Actually, it was an expression of concern. You look exhausted.”

  “I am.”

  “You’re still working too hard.”

  “This isn’t about work,” he said. He ordered a shot of Scotch, waited for her to choose a wine, then met her gaze directly. “I don’t want to be at odds with you all the time, Molly. It takes a toll.”

  There was a genuine weariness and regret in his tone, but she didn’t trust it as anything more than a ploy to win sympathy. “Then why the hell did you start this?” she demanded, unable to keep the sudden surge of anger out of her voice.

  “Because I’m genuinely worried about Brian.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think you’re still trying to get even because I left you.”

  A flash of anger sparked in his eyes, then died. He sighed. “Maybe so.” He sipped his drink, as if he was buying time to gather his thoughts, then leveled a look at her. “Maybe I never understood why you left. Your parents can’t figure it out either. Your decision has really upset them terribly. They’re still not over the divorce.”

  He didn’t have to rub it in. She was well aware of their opinion of her actions. Unable to hide the pain she felt at discovering that he continued to have a better rapport with her parents than she did, she met his gaze. To her astonishment, she saw honest bemusement and hurt there as well. Maybe they both had suffered.

  Responding to that and unable to deal with the whole sorry state of her strained relationship with her parents, she said more softly, “Let’s leave my parents out of this for the moment. I never understood why you married me in the first place. Why did you, Hal, especially when it was so clear I could never live up to your expectations?”

  He regarded her with evident surprise. “Is that the way it seemed to you?”

  “That’s the way it was,” she said emphatically.

  Hal looked even more startled by her adamance. “You really have changed. When we got married, I thought we shared the same goals. I thought you wanted a traditional marriage as much as I did, the kind of marriage our families had.”

  “Traditional how? With me sitting docilely at home, while you worked until all hours of the night? That’s the kind of marriage my parents had. Yours, too, as I recall. I think if I’d heard your father refer to your mother as ‘the little woman’ one more time, I would have screamed. Do you have any idea how talented your mother was?”

  “This isn’t about my mother,” he said defensively.”You’d never expressed any interest in a career.”

  “Maybe because I was too young when we married to have given it much thought. Later, when I tried to talk to you about how frustrated and incomplete I felt, you refused to listen. I had a degree, Hal. I didn’t go to college just to meet a man.”

  “You had a degree in liberal arts. What kind of job were you planning to get with that?”

  “The kind of job I have now,” she said, rising to his derogatory tone. “A very responsible, creative job.”

  He closed his eyes, stung by her attack. “Okay,” he said finally. “Then you thought I was trying to smother you?”

  “Maybe not intentionally, but yes.”

  He shook his head wearily. “All I wanted was for things to turn out the way we’d meant them to.”

  “And I changed the rules,” she guessed, finally understanding the anger and bitterness that had eaten away at their relationship and was still at work long after the divorce.

  “Yes,” he admitted. “You changed the rules and I resented the hell out of you for doing that.”

  “Okay, that’s fair enough. We both made mistakes. I can understand how angry and betrayed you must have felt, but that was between us, Hal. We can’t let it affect Brian. He doesn’t deserve it.”

  “You can’t expect me not to worry about him, dammit. He’s my son.”

  “He’s my son, too,” she reminded him. “I will never, never al
low anything to happen to him. I would die trying to protect him.”

  “And that’s supposed to be good enough for me?” he said, his frustration evident. “Dammit, Molly, he wouldn’t need protection if you’d stop getting mixed up in all these murder investigations.”

  “Hal, I have to stand up for what I believe in. I have to help my friends when they need me.”

  “That’s all very noble, but at what cost? Your son’s life?” he said furiously.

  Up until now, Molly had kept a reasonably tight rein on her own temper, had honestly tried to understand Hal’s point of view, but now she lost it. “Dammit, stop overreacting! Brian is not in any danger.”

  “You can’t swear to that and I don’t like the odds.”

  “Hal, please,” she pleaded, seeing the tentative, newfound rapport slipping away. “Be reasonable. Drop this custody battle before it gets ugly and Brian gets hurt.”

  Hal shoved the rest of his drink away, then stood up and tossed several bills on the table. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “That’s all I can promise.”

  He left Molly staring after him in confusion. To her surprise, she was also filled with unexpected regrets.

  CHAPTER

  TWELVE

  Troubled by her meeting with Hal and knowing that she’d be unable to sleep, Molly decided to wait up with Liza until she could put through the call to Patrice MacDonald in London. At least it would give her something to look forward to.

  As soon as Liza started for the door, Molly stopped her. “Don’t go. I can use the company. It’s already one thirty. You can call Patrice from here in an hour or so.”

  Liza regarded her worriedly. “I thought you’d be exhausted from all that confrontational stuff. Do you want to talk about what happened with Hal?”

  Molly sighed heavily. “He’s thinking.”

  “About what?”

  “Whether my promises to protect Brian with my life are sufficient to overcome his concerns.”

  Liza’s gaze narrowed. “What’s this really all about, Molly? He’s not just ticked off about these murder investigations, is he?”

  “No, not entirely. He’s still grappling with the way I’ve changed. He doesn’t like it and he likes even less that he’s unable to do anything about it. Hal was always into power and control. He has none anymore where I’m concerned, except through Brian.”

  “He’s still in love with you,” Liza said.

  “No,” Molly said flatly, but she had to admit she’d wondered the same thing herself. Her relations with Hal immediately following the divorce had certainly been uneasy, but he had been increasingly difficult ever since the Sunday afternoon he’d had a run-in with her in Michael’s presence. When Michael had stepped in, Hal had realized that the other man was playing some sort of role in her life, as well as in Brian’s. Brian had reported that his father had asked several questions about Michael after that. He had even discouraged him from playing soccer on Michael’s team. He’d suggested Little League as an alternative, but hadn’t offered to coach or even to attend the games.

  “Yes,” Liza contradicted her. “He’s still in love with you. It’s as plain as the nose on your face. How does that make you feel?”

  Molly sighed. “Besieged,” she admitted. “I don’t want Hal to love me.”

  “Why? Because then you’d have to deal with your feelings for him?”

  “I don’t have any feelings for him.”

  “Of course you do. You loved him once. He’s the father of your son. As I recall, you didn’t divorce him because you hated his guts or even because he was a terrible husband. You divorced him so you could discover who you really are. Now you know. You’re a competent, bright, attractive woman. You’ve taken care of that piece of business. Maybe it’s time to reassess your feelings for your ex.”

  “Liza, please don’t start playing amateur psychologist with me,” Molly snapped impatiently.

  “You’re just irritated because you know I’m right.”

  “Just a few short hours ago, you were encouraging me to consider marrying Michael. I wish you’d make up your mind.”

  Liza was shaking her head before the statement was out of Molly’s mouth. “No. You’re the one who needs to make up her mind. Don’t hide from your feelings, Molly. If Hal still means something to you, then for goodness’ sake, explore it. Don’t let foolish pride stand in your way. Just because you made a decision to leave him doesn’t mean you can’t make another one to go back again.”

  “And what about the feelings I have for Michael? What am I supposed to do about those?”

  A grin slowly spread across Liza’s face. “Now that’s more like it. Do you realize that’s the first time you’ve ever admitted you feel something for him?”

  “Not so. I’ve admitted to lusting after him for months. I just don’t know if it’s ever likely to be anything more than that. I’m not sure he’d ever allow it to be anything more than that.” Tired of the entire subject, she said, “Forget it. I can’t talk about this anymore. Can we call Patrice yet?”

  Liza glanced at her watch. “It’s about eight thirty there. We might wake her, but at least it’s a respectable hour.”

  “I want to listen to the whole conversation,” Molly reminded her.

  “Then go in the kitchen and pick up the extension as soon as I’ve finished dialing. I’ll tell you when.”

  Molly waited by the kitchen phone for Liza’s signal, then lifted the receiver. She was just in time to hear the hotel operator put the call through to Patrice’s room. Since she’d chosen one of London’s most expensive hotels, it seemed obvious that Patrice wasn’t exactly hiding out. It was the first place anyone in her crowd would have looked for her.

  “Yes, hello,” Patrice said in an abrupt tone. At least she hadn’t been sound asleep.

  “Patrice, it’s Liza Hastings.”

  There was a faint hesitation, then a more saccharine response. “Liza, how delightful to hear from you.”

  To Molly’s ear, Patrice sounded surprised, but sincere.

  “How on earth did you find me?” she asked.

  “I stopped by to see you. Your housekeeper said you were on vacation,” Liza said, only slightly skirting the truth. “After that, all it took was some lucky guesswork. I had no idea you were planning to go to London.”

  “The trip came up unexpectedly. I just felt the need to get away for a bit, have a change of scenery. You know how that is, I’m sure. London is lovely this time of year.”

  The last Molly had heard they were having a record-setting heat wave. Londoners were fleeing to the shore in droves.

  “I’m sure all the publicity surrounding Tessa’s death was hard on you,” Liza said, alluding to the dead woman’s alleged link with Clark Dupree, which had come out in Monday morning’s paper.

  “If you’re referring to her affair with Clark, you needn’t mince words. Clark Dupree is a weasel in more ways than one. I’m just sorry I didn’t discover it sooner,” she said sourly. “Have they locked him up yet?”

  It was Liza’s turn to hesitate. Molly suspected she, too, was wondering when sexual liaisons had become illegal.

  “For what?” Liza said cautiously.

  “Tessa’s murder, of course. Surely they’ve figured out by now that he did it.”

  “Are you certain?” Liza asked.

  “Well, of course I am,” she said indignantly. “Why else would I have felt the need to get away? I didn’t want to sit around and have all my friends pitying me for being duped by that horrible man. I should have known that any man who is unscrupulous enough to take the side of those unconscionable developers should be avoided at all costs. All that pious talk about every defendant deserving equal protection under the law was so much hogwash to justify what he was doing.”

  “But you’ve known Clark for years.”

  “Obviously not as well as I thought I did,” she said dryly. “Do you honestly think I would consort with a man I thought capable of murder?” />
  “Patrice, why do you think he did it? Do you have any proof?”

  “Who else could it have been? They were having this torrid little affair, right under my nose I might add, and I was too blind to see it.”

  “There are some who might feel that would give you more cause to murder Tessa than it would Clark,” Liza suggested mildly.

  “Me?” she said indignantly. “Why on earth would anyone think I’d done it?”

  “You did have that altercation with her up in Bal Harbour just a few days before.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, I refused to speak to the little tramp. I didn’t pull out a gun and wave it in her face.”

  “What about the candlestick?”

  “What candlestick? What on earth are you talking about?” Patrice said blankly.

  Molly would have given anything to jump in and warn Liza that she’d already said far too much, but it was too late. Liza was going to plod through every piece of circumstantial evidence just to see how Patrice would react. If the woman was guilty, she’d be on the next plane out of London and this time she wouldn’t be nearly so easy to trace. They’d be lucky if she turned up again for her own funeral.

  “One of the candlesticks was missing from the buffet table,” Liza was explaining despite all the warning vibes Molly was trying to send her. “There was some speculation that it might have been used as the murder weapon. It turned up in Neville’s office on Monday morning. He noticed it right after you were in there.”

  Molly could hear Patrice’s sharply drawn breath as she put all the hints together and realized what Liza was suggesting. “Dear Lord in heaven, you can’t be serious. Are you saying the police think I killed that little twit?”

  “It has crossed their minds,” Liza conceded.

  “You tell that Detective Whatever-his-name-is that I will be on the next plane back to Miami. If one word of his suspicions leak to the media in the meantime, I will have his sorry little hide hung out to dry. You might also mention to him that he ought to keep close tabs on Clark Dupree’s travel plans. He’s been salting money away in the Caymans for years.”