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“I’ll pass that on,” Tony agreed. “For the moment, these are evidence in a criminal investigation.”
“So I assumed.”
“Any chance you sold these yourself? It might have been ten to fifteen years back.”
“No, I’d recognize these pieces. I carry comparable quality now, but less so that long ago. You might try jewelers in Walla Walla. Although the odds of them remembering…” He shrugged.
He didn’t have to say that the pendant and earrings could as well have been purchased in Seattle, Spokane or online.
Thanking him again, Tony tucked the jewelry into a pocket of his pants, buttoned it carefully, then walked out to his car. Straight to the station next, he decided; he didn’t want to be responsible for pricey diamonds any longer than he had to be.
During the short drive, he thought about Christine. If she’d been in love with another man, why hadn’t she left her husband? Because of the kids? Or because the lover had had his own impediment—say, a wife? If he had been married, he’d have to have been plenty wealthy to drop that kind of money on another woman without his wife noticing.
When Tony was a kid, growing up in this eastern Washington town, not many people had much money at all. The wheat farmers, who lived out of town, were about it. He’d had a few friends whose parents or grandparents took the whole family to Hawaii at Christmas or Disneyland for spring break. By the time he graduated from high school, the wheat farmers were either selling their land to be planted in wine grapes or planting those vines themselves. Huge, ostentatious houses sprouted atop ridges, while downtown businesses retreated to side streets, leaving the picturesque main street to boutiques, tasting rooms and restaurants, all geared to tourists. Handsome old homes were turned into bed and breakfast inns.
Drawn by the mystique of high-end wines, some residents and probably most visitors apparently had money in a way he didn’t and never would. His mind turned to the woman he shouldn’t have kissed. He didn’t even wonder whether Beth hungered for money or the things it could buy; this was a woman who’d chosen to work with the elderly and their anxious families. Salaries in social services tended to be modest.
Matt, now, he had a streak of ambition, if Tony read him right.
This might be a good time to catch him. Would his sister have already called him? It would be interesting to find out.
* * *
MATT HADN’T BEEN enthusiastic when Tony called and asked to speak to him, but he’d agreed, suggesting a bench in the shade near the duck pond on the Wakefield campus. Tony offered to bring iced coffee, which required a small detour.
Beth’s brother was there ahead of him, probably from eagerness to prevent his boss from seeing him interviewed by a cop again.
“This isn’t as iced as it was,” Tony said, handing over Matt Marshall’s drink of choice.
“Thanks. It’ll be good, anyway. It’s damned hot today.”
Summer around here was hot every day.
Tony sat a couple feet from the other man, took a long swallow of his blessedly cold and caffeinated drink and looked at the few ducks swimming desultorily in circles. None even bothered scrambling out of the water in hopes of crumbs.
Tony decided to get right to the point. “I’ve found evidence to suggest that your mother had an affair.”
Matt snorted. “Like we didn’t all know that.”
All? “You’re saying Emily and Beth knew, too?”
Matt pressed the chilled cup to his forehead and closed his eyes. “Emily… I don’t know. Beth did. She asked me something once that made me sure.”
The feeling of betrayal dismayed Tony. She’d described them as adversaries. Had he really let himself trust her to this extent? All he knew was that an uncomfortable lump seemed to be wedged in his chest.
“Your father?” he asked.
“Oh, Dad.” The laugh was as much a sneer as anything. “He could have walked in on her naked in bed with the guy, and all he’d have done was look puzzled and say, ‘Have I met your friend?’”
“You don’t think he’d have cared.”
Matt shifted, straightening his legs, then tucking his feet beneath the bench. Even so, his shoulders looked stiff when he said finally, “He’d have cared. It’s just that he wouldn’t notice any clues more subtle than seeing his wife with her legs spread for another man. A strange cologne on his sheets? I doubt he’d even ask. Mom flustered and rosy-cheeked and stinking of sex while asking solicitously about Dad’s day so he wouldn’t notice the sound of the back door closing?” Tendons stood out in Matt’s hand and forearms. “Why would she bother? She could have introduced her bed buddy and said brightly, ‘Look who stopped by.’ Dad wouldn’t have thought a thing about it.”
