J. Jance - Deadly Stakes

“Thank you for seeing me like this,” she said, hurrying forward with her hand outstretched. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’ve agreed to help.”

Ali had made no such agreement, but she let that pass. “You must be freezing,” she said. “Come in.” She led Beatrice into the house and through the living room before offering her a chair in front of the glowing gas-log fireplace in the library. “Would you care for something to drink? We can make coffee or tea, or perhaps I should offer you something stronger.”

“Coffee would be welcome,” Beatrice said. “Most welcome indeed. It’s been a difficult day, and I’ll need to drive back home once we’re finished.”

“So, tell me,” Ali urged. “I understood you to say something about a murder. What’s going on?”

Beatrice hesitated before she answered. “My daughter has always had terrible taste in men,” she said. “First there was her ex-husband. Then came Richard Lewis-the guy with all the different last names. I’m sure you know all about him, because you were there when they found him. Now I’m afraid Lynn may be making the same kind of mistake with this new guy, Chip Ralston. On the surface, he looks nice enough, but now I’m not so sure. With all this murder business. .”

“What murder business are you talking about?” Ali insisted.

“Chip’s ex-wife has been murdered,” Beatrice said. “Her name was Gemma Ralston. Someone found her body yesterday afternoon a few miles south of here, off I-17. They didn’t release her name until early this afternoon.”

Ali nodded. She and Leland had watched the noontime news broadcast. She didn’t remember hearing the dead woman’s name, although it wouldn’t have meant anything to her at the time. The same broadcast had mentioned that a second body had been found in approximately the same location, or at least nearby. Given the fact that Camp Verde was inside Yavapai County, there was a good chance that Dave Holman was the lead investigator on both cases.

“Lynn routinely stays overnight at Chip’s place,” Beatrice continued, “but she usually comes home early in the morning. This morning she didn’t. At first I didn’t give it much thought. She’s an adult, after all. It’s not like she has to call me every time she and Chip have a change of plans. Still, it’s not like her not to be in touch. I tried calling Lynn’s cell phone any number of times, but there was no answer. The calls kept going straight to voice mail. I even tried calling Chip’s office to see if his receptionist might know something-Chip’s a doctor-but there was a recording saying the office was closed due to a family emergency. Then late this afternoon, when they mentioned Gemma’s name on the news, I went into a complete panic.

“If Gemma’s dead, maybe Lynn is, too. The killer always turns out to be the ex-husband or the ex-wife. What if Chip turns out to be a serial killer masquerading as a good-guy doctor? It wouldn’t be the first time Lynn got involved with someone who wasn’t what he professed to be. My first thought was that if Chip did it and Lynn found out about it, maybe he took her out, too.”

“I believe the Yavapai County Sheriff’s Department is investigating that homicide,” Ali said. “If you have any pertinent information, you should be in touch with the local investigators. Did you try contacting them?”

Beatrice shook her head. “That’s what Brenda said I should do, too, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. That’s when she suggested I contact you. She said that with your connections to the Sheriff’s Department here, maybe you could do that for me.”

That was the moment when B. chose to make his entrance, carrying a tray loaded with coffee, as well as a collection of Ali’s Royal Limoges china-cups and saucers, along with a matching sugar bowl and creamer. “Do what?” he asked.

“This is Beatrice Hart,” Ali said quickly, “and this is B. Simpson, my partner.”

The word “partner” was out of Ali’s mouth before she had a chance to reconsider. In a discussion centering on Lynn Martinson’s less than stellar choice of boyfriends, that word had been devalued enough that Ali was reluctant to use it in reference to B. She could tell by the small smile creasing the corners of his mouth as he set down the tray that her use of the word hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Ali said to B., “Ms. Hart’s daughter, Lynn, may be involved in some fashion with one of the cases Dave Holman is currently working on. Would you mind looking after her while I try to reach Dave?”

“Of course,” B. said smoothly as Ali made her exit. “Cream and sugar?”

By the time Beatrice answered, Ali was already through the swinging doors into the kitchen and pulling her phone from her pocket. She found Dave Holman’s cell phone number, still in her favorites file, and dialed it.

“Hey, Dave,” she said when the call switched over to voice mail. “Give me a call when you have a minute. I have someone here at the house who would like to speak to you about the Gemma Ralston case.”

Going back through the swinging doors, she crashed into B. coming the other way. “How’d it go?” he asked.

Ali shook her head. “Dave didn’t answer. I left a message. What are you doing?”

“I think our guest needs food more than she needs coffee. Your ‘partner’ offered to heat up a bowl of stew, which she gratefully accepted. Thank you for that, by the way,” he added. “I consider ‘partner’ to be a big step up.”

“We’ll see about your signing bonus later,” Ali said with a smile. “Now I’ll go entertain our guest while we wait to see how long it takes for Dave to call me back.”

Back in the library, Ali found Beatrice Hart seated next to the fire, sipping coffee from one of Ali’s delicate Beleme patterned cups. Beatrice glanced up worriedly as Ali resumed her seat.

“Sorry,” Ali said. “My contact didn’t answer. I left a message for him to call me back.” She didn’t mention that the contact was most likely the lead investigator on the Ralston case.

“Mr. Simpson offered me some stew, and I accepted. I hope you don’t mind,” Beatrice said.

“Not at all, but while we’re waiting for that return call, why don’t you tell me what you know about this Chip Ralston. Do you have any reason to make the leap from his being your daughter’s beau to his being a possible murderer?”

“Lynn met him because he was my late husband’s doctor-Horace’s doctor,” Beatrice explained. “Chip’s specialty is Alzheimer’s patients and their families, and I have to say, in that regard, he was a huge help to me and to Lynn. He helped us understand that Alzheimer’s is a process that has a beginning, a middle, and an end, and that all those stages are longer or shorter depending on the individual. When your life is spinning out of control, it’s reassuring to have someone telling you that what you’re experiencing is within the parameters of some kind of normal. Dr. Ralston did that for our family and does it for a lot of other families, too.”

“Sounds like a good guy rather than a bad guy,” Ali suggested.

Beatrice nodded. “Except that where I come from, doctors don’t become romantically involved with their patients or their patients’ families. He waited a while, I’ll give him that. He called me several times in the weeks after we lost Horace, ostensibly checking to see how I was doing, and he always asked about Lynn. Then one day he called when I wasn’t home. Before you knew it, they were going out.”

“I take it you don’t approve?”

“For one thing, it’s too soon. I know from asking around that Chip is still dealing with the aftereffects of divorce-a rancorous divorce-and Lynn is still in recovery mode, too. First there was her divorce, followed by that mess with Richard. Then her son, Lucas, my grandson, committed suicide. She lost her job and her house, and then Horace died. You put all that together, and it adds up to way too much. I told her she needed to give herself some time before she got involved in a serious relationship.”