he did look like his father. They had the same inquisitive blue eyes and angular features. He really wasn’t scary looking. He’d just taken her by surprise.
“You can’t imagine how closely Steve watched Lindsey. She tried to leave him once before but he found out and beat the hell out of her. It kept getting worse and worse. The last time I saw her, which was a month ago, we sewed one hundred dollar bills I brought into the lining of her jacket. That way she’d have money to get away.”
“Why didn’t she go to the police?”
Hayley shook her head. “I know it’s crazy but Lindsey felt she owed Steve big-time. You see, she’d been hooked on drugs, living on Haight Ashbury’s streets when she met Steve. He helped her get clean, paid for her art lessons, then married her. She believed he loved her but was just too obsessive. She didn’t want to get him into trouble after all he’d done for her.”
He leaned closer to her, looking at her intently. “You don’t think the husband had the chance to kill her.”
“No. How could he? Lindsey left Wednesday afternoon. That’s the day her husband, who’s an engineer, goes into the office. He works at home the rest of the week. Besides, Lindsey has relatives in Oregon. Last time, he caught her with a plane ticket to Portland. I’m sure that’s where he’d look first.”
“He didn’t know about you?”
“Not really.” Hayley explained how careful they’d been since they’d met at Ian’s gallery and become friends. “I always called her on Wednesday when Steve was out of the house. She never called me because he checked the phone bills.”
“You’re right,” Ryan said, his voice measured. “How would the husband get explosives through airline security? He would have had to fly to make it here in time to plant the bomb. It wouldn’t have been possible—assuming he could smuggle the bomb aboard—unless he had known in advance—”
“He didn’t. Lindsey called me, wondering what to do. I came up with the plan on the spot.”
Ryan nodded slowly; it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.
“You don’t suppose someone was trying to kill me.” The first hint of tears broke in her voice as she expressed the unimaginable.
Again, he didn’t answer. She knew what he was thinking. “That’s absurd! Why would anyone want me dead?”
“Isn’t your parents’ estate in probate? Wouldn’t Trent and Farah receive a lot more money with you gone?”
“They would never—” She caught herself wondering if it could possibly be true. “I’m an important part of the company. Trent relies on me for designs. Farah has her own successful business.”
“People have killed for amazingly small amounts of money.”
She just didn’t believe it. “There isn’t that much money at stake. The business is successful in a small way. It supports us nicely but we’re not rolling in dough. Since my father didn’t have a trust, the state will get a big chunk.” She shook her head, saying to herself, “I can’t believe Daddy didn’t have a trust.”
“What about that Laird guy? He offered to buy the business. Wouldn’t selling out generate more cash?”
“That’s news to me. I didn’t know Laird offered to purchase Surf’s Up.”
“I thought you opposed the sale.”
“No way. Surf’s Up was my father’s dream. I’d like to get out from under it and concentrate on my art.” It occurred to her that this man knew an awful lot about her business. “How do you know so much about my family?”
“Your aunt strong-armed me into using my contacts to investigate your death.”
A surge of fondness swept through her. Strong-armed. That was Aunt Meg, all right. If Hayley had died, Meg Amboy would have moved heaven and earth to find the killer.
“Can you think of anyone else who would want you dead?” he asked.
“No. Of course not.” Hayley thought about the car bomb and her friend. Her relief at having escaped death was blunted by guilt about Lindsey. If Hayley hadn’t loaned her the car, Lindsey would still be alive. “I guess there was nothing left of Lindsey’s body or the police wouldn’t have thought it was me.”
“Nothing,” Ryan confirmed.
Her breath caught as her heart lurched painfully in her chest. She was frightened but not as much as she should be. This whole thing had a surreal quality to it. Whoever heard of anyone in this country dying in a car bombing? It didn’t seem real, but Hayley had no reason to doubt Ryan Hollister. He was an FBI agent and he was far too serious—and convincing—to be putting her on for some weird reason.
“What about your relationship with Chad Bennett? Was he angry enough to want you dead after you broke the engagement?”
“No. It was his fault. He’d cheated on me. He keeps trying to get back together. I don’t think he’s given up hope. He wouldn’t try to kill me.”
“Somebody did.”
“Couldn’t it have been a mistake?” It had to be, she told herself. Nothing else made sense. A bleakness, a hollow sensation settled over her.
“That’s a long shot. Someone had to get under your car to attach the device. They risked being seen. People are usually careful in those circumstances to make certain they have the right vehicle. Plus the killer deliberately dismantled the security camera that records activity in the parking lot.”
“I need to call my aunt right away. I—”
“Not yet.” The currents in his eyes eddied and she wondered what he was thinking. “Aren’t you concerned about your dog?”
“Has something happened to Andy?” Oh, God, she couldn’t lose him, too.
“Wasn’t he in the car?”
“No. I didn’t want to board him. My neighbors volunteered to take him for two weeks to their place on Bass Lake. I knew Andy would love it.”
“Good,” Ryan responded. She thought he looked unusually relieved, considering it was her dog.
“You thought Andy was in the car when it exploded?” She closed her eyes, trying to imagine the golden retriever blown to bits. This just kept getting worse and worse. She was having difficulty putting it all together. Weary from a long plane ride, Hayley didn’t seem to be able to think as clearly as usual. All this seemed to be a bad dream. Surely she would wake up and things would be the way they’d been when she’d left sunny Costa Rica.
Estevez had offered her a contract to do murals in several of his hotels. That, combined with the art Ian was selling in his gallery, meant she could start her life over—doing what she loved. Now this.
“The lab found canine fur in the debris. What were they supposed to conclude?”
Hayley tried for a laugh, but it sounded more like a witchy cackle. “I haul Andy everywhere with me. Friends call it ‘the fur mobile’
