back of the reclining leather chair beside the sofa.
Then he sat on that chair. It had been Thomas’s chair. Exclusively.
But Thomas wouldn’t mind now.
Did she? This man was making himself right at home.
Thomas had worked out a lot. He’d been five-eleven and muscular. But the substantial chair that had once belonged only to him now seemed a lot smaller with Gabe occupying it.
She caught the glint of amusement in Gabe’s eyes as he glanced at her bare toes, with their bright red polish, then back up at her face.
So what if she didn’t take as much care with her fingernails as she did with her toes? She couldn’t reach her toenails as easily to pick off the polish when she was upset or nervous.
But she felt discomfited by Gabe’s stare. She curled around so her feet were tucked up under her. “So, Chief McLaren, I gather you have something on your mind,” she said. Besides my toes, she wanted to add but didn’t.
“Gabe,” he corrected. “Yes, I do. A few things. First, I know some of my officers have been in touch with you, but I wanted to let you know personally how the investigation into Thomas’s death is progressing.”
A chill passed through Holly that had nothing to do with this house’s proximity to the Pacific, and everything to do with her fear about what Gabe would say…and what he might not say.
“Have you caught his killer?” she asked softly. She doubted it. Al would have told her right away, if he’d known.
Gabe shook his head. There was a grim tightness about his lips that had told her his answer already. In fact, he looked angry. “No,” he said. “Not yet. But we will. You can bet on it.” He spoke with so much intensity that Holly believed him. He’d get the killer. And soon.
She was uncertain how much she really wanted to hear, but she asked anyway, “Do you know exactly what happened that morning? How Thomas was killed and Sheldon hurt?”
“We’ve pieced it together, though we’re not sure how accurate we are so far. But before I tell you, I have to ask a few questions. I know you’ve already talked to Al Sharp. Since he was your husband’s partner, the guys doing the footwork on the investigation thought that would be easier on you.”
She nodded.
“But I’m handling the investigation now. Personally. I want you to know that. And I have some questions that Al wasn’t able to answer. Okay?”
He leaned forward. He had unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and loosened his dark blue tie. The combination of formal clothing and the casual way he wore it seemed boyishly charming.
And yet there was nothing immature about this man who seemed to take charge, no matter where he was. Even in her living room.
His large hands were clasped between his knees as he watched her with compassion. She had a feeling that, if she told him she just couldn’t talk about it, he would understand.
But there was an intensity in his stare as well. A fervor that told her that if she didn’t cooperate, if she couldn’t cooperate, he’d simply bulldoze around or through her to get the information that she could most easily impart.
She liked that, somehow. Even if it made her uneasy, she felt that Gabe McLaren’s zeal and dedication ensured the fact that someday soon, somehow, this cop would fulfill his duty. They would know exactly who killed Thomas, and why.
And then maybe her son would talk again, once the bad guy was in jail.
“All right,” she said. “What would you like to know?” She’d tell him what she could, as long as it wasn’t personal. There were a lot of things about Thomas, and about Thomas and her, that were not relevant to the investigation but would hurt her, and Tommy, if people learned about them.
“First of all, what was Thomas doing at Sheldon Sperling’s at that hour of the morning? And with little Tommy, too. Thomas was already in uniform, but he wasn’t on duty yet.”
Holly nodded. She could talk about this. “It was part of our daily routine. I tend to work late and sleep in. Thomas woke early even if he went to bed late. To let me rest, he’d get ready for work and take out Tommy, who’s an early bird, too. Sheldon has been a close friend for a long time. He even sells my work. He’s an early riser, like Thomas, and they’d often meet at the shop, then either just walk along the beach or the pier, or stop in for breakfast at one of the restaurants on Pacific Way near Sheldon’s.”
“I see. Then it wasn’t unusual for Thomas to be there that early, in uniform, with Tommy?”
“No.”
“What’s your work, and how does Sheldon sell it?”
Holly blinked and looked at Gabe. He smiled, so winsomely that she couldn’t help a tentative grin back.
“I know that doesn’t have anything to do with the investigation,” he said. “I’m just curious.”
“I’m an artist of sorts,” she told him. “I create quilts and wall hangings and other pieces out of fabrics—mostly impractical, but intended to be attractive. Fortunately, some people seem to think so. They sell well, mostly to tourists. Sheldon carries most of them in his shop for me, and he gets a percentage of everything he sells.”
“I’d like to see your work,” Gabe said. He glanced around the living room, but no pieces hung there.
It had been a sore point between Thomas and her—one of many. Thomas had considered what she did frivolous and resented the large amounts of money she made when any of her pieces sold—even though he didn’t mind her spending it on things he liked but couldn’t afford.
Like his reclining chair.
So as not to provoke additional arguments, Holly kept everything in her private workroom, an extra bedroom upstairs beside Tommy’s room.
Now, though, she would be able to display her work in her own home. Enjoy it herself…
She sighed. She could simply have divorced Thomas, if she’d wanted him fully out of her life. But she hadn’t, for there really wasn’t anything simple about it.
Gabe must have misinterpreted her sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m keeping you up late. I can ask most of my questions another time. But as far as the investigation goes, we believe what happened was an armed robbery.”
Holly couldn’t help asking, “Really? With a uniformed police officer there?”
Gabe shrugged. “It could have been an addict desperate for money for a fix. Or maybe the killer didn’t see Thomas until it was too late to back off. We were hoping to get more from Sheldon, but he apparently doesn’t remember much. I didn’t talk to him for long here so I haven’t confirmed it yet, but according to the police report he said that Thomas and he were having a heated little argument about the merits of the Dodgers over the Angels and weren’t watching the door. He doesn’t recall anything after that, but says he’d put some change into his register to prepare for the day. His cash drawer was empty when the crime scene investigation team checked it.”
“I
