crumble right and left. People who’d once believed their hearts irretrievably shattered simply picked up the pieces and got over it, and so had he.
Or so he’d believed. Right now, he wasn’t sure.
Seeing Erin took him back to the innocent, hope-filled days of high school before his world fell apart. He wanted to cup her heart-shaped face and to smooth those quizzical eyebrows. He wanted her to melt into his arms and help him find the trusting young man he used to be.
Yeah, sure, she’d been pining for him all these years. That was why she was marrying Chet Dever, big-shot candidate for Congress and a superslick operator, judging by the way he came across in television interviews. That was why she sported a diamond necklace and crown that probably cost more than a policeman earned in a year. Or ten.
Still, it bothered Joseph to see her hanging on to a chair for support. What was the darn hurry to get married so soon after a major accident? If he were Chet—well, he’d be in just as big a hurry, he supposed.
“I apologize for the inconvenience, Miss Marshall,” he said. “Please bear with me and I’ll make this as brief as possible.”
“My name’s still Erin. And please tell me why you think that van hit me.” Despite the pallor of her complexion, she released her grip on the chair and held herself straight. Her late father would have approved.
Joseph forced his attention to the task at hand. He’d better make the best of these few minutes because, after Erin became Mrs. Chet Dever, he’d never get a chance to talk to her again unless this whole case blew wide open. By then, it might be too late.
“I don’t know the motive,” he said. “I don’t even know for sure that a crime’s been committed. Call me naturally suspicious.”
“The Tustin police called it an accident,” she said.
“The witnesses said they thought it might have been accidental. The police aren’t so sure.” He’d spoken at length with the investigating officer.
Her brown eyes widened. “Chet told me he read the report himself.”
“He probably read the cover sheet.” Joseph knew better than to call a man a liar without hard evidence. “Basically, no one saw the van hit you, only the aftermath, and there are several unexplained issues.”
“What…” Erin broke off, swaying a little.
Joseph caught her arm. “You okay?”
“I get dizzy.” She took a couple of deep breaths. In the formfitting gown, the movement made him uncomfortably aware of her bosom, and as soon as she looked steadier, he let go. “What do you mean by unexplained issues?”
Joseph referred to his notebook. “For one thing, the van had been stolen. It was recovered, stripped, twenty-five miles away in Los Angeles.”
“If it was a stolen van, that could explain why the driver didn’t stop to help me,” Erin replied. “What else?”
“Here’s the puzzler,” Joseph said. “You were carrying two thousand three hundred and forty-seven dollars in a cash box, which you left on the pavement about a hundred feet from where you got hit.”
“I did? Why?”
“You got me,” he said. “It was sitting there neatly with no sign of damage. It doesn’t look as if you dropped it. Why did you set it down?”
“I don’t know.” Erin’s blank expression confirmed that, as she’d told the Tustin detective, she didn’t recall the circumstances surrounding the hit-and-run. Crime and accident victims often blacked out the event, even if they didn’t suffer from head injuries. Sometimes the memories returned, sometimes not.
“Tustin PD finds that odd and so do I,” he said. “It’s possible you believed someone was trying to rob you and left it there so he’d leave you alone. But no one took the money. That might indicate some other motive.”
“Nobody told me that before.”
He had to ask a hard question, even if it upset her further. “Can you think of anyone who might want to kill you?”
Her horrified look went straight through him. “Of course not!”
She was being naïve, of course. The Marshall Company, of which Erin was half owner, wielded tremendous power in this town. It had developed major parcels of property and owned the mall, the hospital and several office complexes. There had to be people with grudges, from competitors to former leaseholders to outright kooks.
Apparently, she’d been sheltered from threats and lawsuits. Although technically Erin held the title of vice-chairman of the board, her position appeared to be largely ceremonial.
As CEO, Dever ran the Marshall Company in conjunction with Alice Marshall Bolding. Erin’s mother, who’d become chairman of the board since her husband’s death two years earlier, maintained an office at Marshall headquarters and apparently also conducted business from home.
“That brings us to your mother,” he said. “I’ve never been comfortable with the idea that she simply went boating by herself at twilight and fell out.”
He knew his report hadn’t made a strong enough case to convince his superiors that there’d been a crime. After Erin was nearly killed, however, his concerns had doubled. Although the Tustin police were doing their best to find the driver, he wondered if Erin herself held the key.
“Your mother decided to take out Lance’s motorboat even though it was nearly dark and there was no one around,” he continued. “Does that sound like something she would do?”
She shook her head. “I can’t imagine my mother sailing in anything less than a yacht.”
“She said she’d had a couple of drinks and lost her balance,” he went on. “What do you think of that?”
“Even if my mother did get drunk, she’d never admit it.” Erin plucked at her lace skirt. “She’s always insisted on keeping up appearances.”
Although he felt uncomfortable talking with his high school sweetheart as if they were strangers, at least she was willing to hear him out, Joseph mused. Alice Bolding had become annoyed at his implications and her husband had gone ballistic.
His goal was to resolve his case, and perhaps Tustin’s case as well. That was it. Then Erin could marry any darn fellow she pleased.
“Your stepfather claims he went shopping that evening, but he didn’t buy anything so there are no receipts,” he said. “I haven’t found any salesclerks who remember seeing him.”
“I’ve never trusted Lance,” she said. “So I can’t be objective. But if he tried to kill my Mom, why wouldn’t she say so? You must have asked her.”
“She denied it,” he admitted. “But her body language was extremely tense.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Erin said. “I’m sure she didn’t like talking to the police.”
Alice had always been a proud woman. Joseph hadn’t liked her much when he’d dated her daughter, because
