Page 20 of Lie for a Million

“Certainly. But only a little bit for me. Darrin says I’m getting fat.”

“Not too much for me, either. I gained ten pounds on my last visit to the ranch.” Sam took a seat and watched her walk into the kitchen. Her sundress was tight through the bodice, the waist hitched up to ride above the slight bulge of her belly. But that was as it should be. She was pregnant. What kind of husband would slap his pregnant wife and taunt her about putting on weight? The last modicum of respect Sam might have felt toward Darrin was slipping away fast.

But he was a federal agent, here to solve a crime, he reminded himself. It was his job to view every suspect without prejudice and without emotion. That included Darrin, Simone, and even Jasmine.

Simone returned with two small bowls of chocolate ice cream. She handed one to Sam and sat down on the far end of the sofa, turning to face him. Sam spooned a taste and nodded. “Not bad,” he said.

“It’s my favorite brand, and it was on sale.” Simone took a spoonful, swirling it in her mouth before setting the bowl on the table and fixing her gaze on Sam. “Agent, I invited you in for a reason. I’ve suspected all along that Lila was having an affair with her horse trainer, but I had no proof. Now I do.”

“Go on.” Sam had sensed the tension between Lila and Roper, but this was new.

“We have a witness who saw them—not exactly doing it, but that had to be what was happening.”

“Who was the witness?” Sam demanded.

“It was Mariah. Darrin’s mother asked her to keep an eye on them, and she did. They were in that little shed that houses the sprinkler controls. Mariah saw them go in and come out.”

Sam tried to picture the shed. Not much room in there. But room enough, he supposed.

“So you were in touch with Darrin’s mother?”

“Darrin called her,” Simone said. “She agreed to phone Mariah. Mariah would do anything for her.”

“How is Madeleine doing? Did she say? Did Darrin talk to Jasmine?”

Simone shook her head. “I guess not. But we were talking about Lila and her affair. Now that we have proof—”

“But proof of what?” Sam’s ice cream was melting. He set the bowl on the coffee table. “There’s still no proof Lila was having an affair while she was married to Frank. And even if she did, I can’t arrest people for sleeping together. I’m looking for evidence in a murder case.”

“But what about motive, means, and opportunity? They had it all.”

“True. And I appreciate your efforts to help the case. But what I need is proof that will hold up in court. I’m still looking for that.” Sam stood up to leave. “You have my card. Call me if there’s anything more you need to tell me.”

“I’ll let Darrin know you came by,” she said, reaching for the remote. “Is there anything I should tell him?”

“That’s up to you. Don’t get up, Simone. I’ll see myself out. Thank you for your hospitality and your time.”

He left her and drove away, lost in thought. Darrin was capable of violence. Did that mean he was also capable of murder? As for Simone, she’d shown herself to be ambitious, even scheming. But she and her unborn baby were vulnerable. It wasn’t Sam’s place to interfere in a marriage without cause. He could only offer her a lifeline in case the situation became dangerous. Maybe tonight he would risk a call to Jasmine. She was in the best position to understand her brother. She might have some insights to offer.

But what was he thinking? Hadn’t he just told Jasmine not to communicate with him except in an emergency?

He was nearing the ranch when a red Corvette roared around him on the two-lane paved highway and sped on ahead. Sam swore as he recognized the car and its driver. It was Charlie Grishman.

The Corvette had been Jasmine’s, a prized gift from her father. When Charlie had found evidence that she’d been with the animal rights group who’d raided his property, set a fire, and freed many of the animals, the Corvette had bought Charlie’s silence and kept Jasmine out of jail.

Now the little rat was wasting no opportunity to flaunt the beautiful car. Sam watched as he made a hard left turn, ground the gears, and sped up the graveled side road to his ranch. The way he was abusing that car, it would serve him right if he crashed it.

Tomorrow, Sam resolved, he would pay a call on the man. He’d been to Charlie’s place before. He wasn’t looking forward to the noise and foul odors of the place, the wretched pens and cages, and the frustration of not being able to change the situation. At least Jasmine had tried. She couldn’t help it if the protest, meant to attract attention, had spiraled out of control.

Charlie was still on Sam’s list of suspects. But so far, he’d been unable to come up with a motive. Maybe he needed to take a closer look.

Could Frank have done anything to make an enemy of Charlie? True, he’d kept Charlie from pursuing Jasmine—probably threatened him with bodily harm if he came near her. But that hardly seemed like a reason for murder.

But what if there was another connection—a hidden connection—like blackmail? Charlie was certainly capable of that. It was how he’d gotten his hands on Jasmine’s Corvette.

Maybe he’d discovered a secret from Frank’s past and was extorting money from him. But no—Sam dismissed the idea. Why would Charlie kill off his cash cow? And it didn’t make sense that Frank would be blackmailing Charlie either.

It could be something else, then. Or maybe nothing. Sam would keep his eyes and ears open tomorrow when he paid a call on Charlie and his menagerie.

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