Page 38 of Cougar Point

I use one of his remarks. “And I owe her.”

“Tony says you don’t always do things by the book and can be very creative.”

“We do what we have to…within the law,” I lie.

“Glad to hear it. I like self-starters. But I won’t brook cutting corners to make an arrest. Same as lying in my book and I can’t stand liars.”

“I agree completely,” I say.

He gives me a hard look like he knows I’m lying. He’s very perceptive, but I’m a very good liar.

“We play by the rules,” I say. The same rules the criminals play by.

His eyes linger on mine until he’s satisfied then leans back and his chair squeals. I wonder if that’s a sheriff thing. Or if it’s because of their girth.

“Ronnie Marsh,” he says. “I’ve heard good things about you from the Academy. I still have contacts there. I teach an interrogation class from time to time. A good interviewer is worth their weight in gold. We teach firearms four times longer than we school on interrogation and I wonder sometimes if it shouldn’t be reversed. I understand you’re proficient at firearms and interviewing. Good skills to have. We could use more of that here. Now. Let’s get back to your mom. Sergeant Lucas is the best detective I’ve got. If I ever have need of assistance in your county, I expect you to give us what help we need.”

“Goes without saying.” I’ll give Lucas something all right.

“Well, if you’re going to be working in my jurisdiction, I need to do something.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

“Well, that went fairly smooth,” Ronnie says, We’re heading back to Drayton Harbor to eat.

“Until Lucas has a meltdown.” But I don’t care what he does as long as he doesn’t get in our way.

As we approach Drayton Harbor Oysters, I notice several people down by the bay wearing muddy boots and using pronged hand rakes to dig in the dirt and then pitch something into a laundry basket. Fresh from the mud to your mouth.

We settle at a table inside with a nice view across the harbor to Semiahmoo Resort. At least from here I can’t see anyone digging my food out of the mud. And there’s a bar. Ronnie can drive home. Perfect.

Ronnie and Rebecca order oysters on the half shell and Sprite. The cook is kind enough to grill a hamburger for me. I’d been thinking about the call to Rebecca and wondering if it might have something to do with her job. It just doesn’t ring with me, but then I’ve never been sued or worked a case involving a lawsuit. And there’s Victoria’s involvement with charity work. A disgruntled soup kitchen visitor? In any case we have to find Vinnie Lombardi.

Ronnie says, “I’m ashamed to admit it, but I know very little about Mom’s life outside of the house. She likes to shop. She doesn’t have a favorite restaurant. If she has a best friend, I don’t know who it is. She never talks about anything but us. She’s always concerned with our lives and listens more than she talks.” Her eyes mist over. “I’m a horrible daughter.”

Rebecca to the rescue. “If you are, I am too, Ronnie. We both could have paid her more attention. She got on my nerves wanting me to become someone successful like Father, date the right guys, make the right friends. I never once thought she was looking out for my happiness. I never once thought of her happiness or what she’d given up to be a stay-at-home mom.”

The sisters are silent, lost in regrets that cause me to rethink my relationship with my own mother. She’s a bitch and all I can come up with is my mother was horrible to me and my brother. She never was concerned with our welfare. Only her own. Never wanted us to succeed, only to hide, lie, and steal. Thanks, Mom. I hope you rot. No, I don’t. Hayden loves her and I hope she loves him enough to try and change. To become someone worthy of his love and loyalty. No matter what she does she will never have mine. She threw that chance away long ago.

“Should we call Tony and thank him?” Ronnie asks as they bring our orders.

“He’ll get the big head. Let’s talk about Vinnie first,” I say, and turn to Rebecca. “Does your mom keep an address book?”

“She keeps it with her. I didn’t see it in her room at the resort.” She looks startled. “Oh my God. I didn’t even check for her purse.”

Ronnie says, “I didn’t find it.”

“I got in her computer at home and found the addresses and email for her committee members. All the emails involved her charity work. There was nothing personal, or any threateningitems. Our mom threw herself into her charities. I can’t imagine any of them wishing her harm.”

“Does your mom have an office? One at home?”

“She has a little office where she reads and keeps correspondence. Her computer is in there.”

“Did you look for an actual address book? Letters?”

“I’ve really just expected her to come home. I didn’t want to rummage through her private things. It felt disloyal even getting into her email.”

“It’s been three days, Rebecca. I think you’ll be forgiven for violating her privacy.”

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