J. Jance - Deadly Stakes

There was only one problem. Lynn couldn’t bring herself to believe that any of it was true. She couldn’t believe that a man who had dedicated his life to doing no harm would have taken anyone’s life, including Gemma’s. Yes, the woman had been a pain in the ass. Yes, paying her alimony and buying out her share of the medical practice and their joint real estate holdings was putting a crimp in Chip’s bottom line. He had lost a bundle in real estate, and he’d turned over a big part of his pension, but Lynn refused to believe that money meant so much to him. After all, hadn’t that been one of Gemma’s major gripes about him? That he had backed away from the big-bucks medical practices in favor of shepherding the families of Alzheimer’s patients? Was that the kind of man who would stoop to murder? Lynn didn’t want to believe it. Wouldn’t believe it. It just wasn’t possible. Couldn’t be. Could it?

Lynn had been on her way home from Chip’s place early that morning when an unmarked patrol car had pulled her over on Shea Boulevard as she made her way toward the 101. Since she hadn’t been speeding, she almost didn’t stop. What if this was one of those times when the guy pulling her over turned out to be a bad guy masquerading as a cop?

“What seems to be the problem, Officer?” she had asked through the open window when she pulled over and Detective Holman walked up to the driver’s window. “Was I doing something wrong?”

“Would you please step out of the vehicle, Ms. Martinson? I need to ask you a few questions.”

It surprised her that he already knew her name, even though he hadn’t asked to see her license or registration. It struck Lynn as odd, but she complied with her hands shaking and knees quaking. The badge and ID he showed her turned out to be from Yavapai County rather than one of the local jurisdictions.

“Where were you night before last?” he asked as she handed him back his ID.

“I was at my boyfriend’s house,” she said. “I spent the night.”

“Your boyfriend would be Dr. Charles Ralston, right?”

“Yes,” Lynn said hurriedly, “but what’s this about? Does it have anything to do with my telephone?”

“What about your telephone?”

“I know my cell turned up at the scene of a homicide, but like I told the officer who came by the house yesterday, I evidently misplaced it sometime earlier. I have no idea how it could have made its way to a crime scene near Camp Verde. I’ve never even been there.”

“Never?” he asked.

The way he looked at her when he said that was disquieting-as if he didn’t believe her. Lynn’s knees shook that much more. It was sounding much more serious than some kind of minor traffic violation. People going by on the street were rubbernecking, peering at her and trying to see what was going on. Fortunately, she was far enough from Surprise that it seemed unlikely any of the gawkers would know either her or her mother. Still it was embarrassing.

“Do we have to do this here?” she asked. “Couldn’t we have our discussion somewhere more private?”

“Sure,” Detective Holman agreed. “There’s a Denny’s just off Scottsdale Road. How about if we go there to talk? I can follow you.”

It seemed like a reasonable enough request, so that was what they did. Lynn was grateful that he turned off the flashers on his light bar. When they pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot, she was relieved to see that it was relatively full.

They went inside. Detective Holman ordered a Grand Slam. All Lynn wanted was coffee, and it was frustrating to see how much her hand shook as she raised the mug to her lips. She was nervous about talking to this guy. She couldn’t help it.

“So let’s go back to the night before last. What time did you arrive at Dr. Ralston’s place?”

“Ten or so.”

“You left there when?”

“About this time, maybe a little earlier.”

“You come late and leave early,” Holman said. “Why’s that?”

She fudged a little on that one. “I leave early so Chip can get ready for work.” The answer sounded lame, even to her.

“I understand you stopped by a car wash on your way home?”

How did he know that? Lynn wondered. Had she mentioned the car wash to the other cop when he came to the house asking about the phone? “Yes,” she said.

“Why?”

That struck her as a stupid question. People went to car washes when their cars were dirty.

“When I went to get into the car in the morning, I noticed it was really dusty,” she answered. “The wind must have come up overnight. Since I needed gas, I had it washed, too. There’s a car wash on my way, and I usually stop there. I suspect that’s where I lost my phone. I probably put it down on the counter when I was paying for my gas and forgot to put it back in my purse.”

“What can you tell me about Dr. Ralston’s former wife?”

Later, Lynn understood that was when she should have guessed what was really going on. If she had, she might have moderated her answer, but she didn’t.

“Gemma Ralston is a money-grubbing bitch,” Lynn replied. “She hired the best divorce lawyer money can buy, and she took Chip to the cleaners.”

“Do you know her personally?”

“I don’t really know her; I know of her,” Lynn admitted.

“She stays in close contact with Dr. Ralston?”

“More with his mother and sister than with Chip. Chip’s mother told him that just because he and Gemma were divorced didn’t mean she was divorcing her daughter-in-law. As for Molly, Chip’s sister? I understand that she and Gemma have been good friends since they met as college roommates years ago.”

“That must make things awkward for you,” Detective Holman surmised.

“A little,” Lynn admitted, “but over time I expect Chip’s family will come around. At least that’s what I’m hoping. It’s also one of the reasons we’re not rushing into anything.”

Another, Lynn thought to herself, is that we can’t afford it. I don’t have a job, and he can’t afford a house payment and alimony.

“Have you ever heard Dr. Ralston voice any threats against his former wife?”

“Threats?” Lynn echoed. “Never. Not once.”

“He never made any comments to you that maybe he’d be better off if Gemma were dead?”

“No!” Lynn said forcefully. “He never mentioned such a thing. Not to me, anyway, and I doubt he’d say it to anyone else, either. You need to understand, Chip Ralston is a good man-an honorable man.”

“In your opinion,” Detective Holman said.

The comment made Lynn flush, but she said nothing.

“Let’s talk about the other night,” Holman continued. “You spent the night.”

“Yes,” Lynn said. “I do most nights.”

“You were there the whole night? Was Dr. Ralston there as well?”

“Yes, of course he was. We slept in the same bed.”

“He didn’t go out at any time? Was he on call?”

“We were both there all night,” Lynn repeated.

“Is there a chance he might have slipped out of bed and been gone for a while without your noticing?”

Lynn paused before answering. For years she had struggled with sleep apnea. It was only with the arrival of a breathing aid, a CPAP machine, on the recommendation of a physician specializing in sleep disorders, that she had started sleeping well at night. When she and Chip started dating, she had been too embarrassed to bring it up. Who wants to think that a romantic partner is going to come to bed looking like a gas mask-wearing member of a hazmat team. But she also knew that the mask was the source of her ability to sleep well and safely.

So the first time she and Chip spent the night together-at a casino on the outskirts of Scottsdale-Lynn had brought her mask and machine along, tucked discreetly into her suitcase. She hadn’t really intended to take it out or use it, but then a miracle happened. Chip opened his overnight bag, and Lynn caught sight of his machine, tucked in among his underwear and his shaving kit. Not only did they each have a CPAP machine, they had the same make and model.