Page 31 of Accidental Murder
Veronica rolled her lip between her teeth. “What’s your name again?”
“Ashley.”Lies, all lies.
“That would be lovely,” the headmistress said, and nudged Veronica. “Let’s see the birds.”
Kayla spied a tan Camry idling at the curb and tensed. Inspector Sergeant Hanrahan rolled down the driver’s window. Her partner was sitting in the passenger seat. Why had they come to the service?
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Through the driver’s window,Megan watched Ashley tending to a curly-haired girl with frenzied energy. “Why are we here?” she asked Rodrigo. “We have Darius Ventano.”
“Don’t let her snow you, Megan.” Rodrigo was peering in the same direction. “Some models can act. C’mon, you saw the trace I put on her accounts. She is hocked up to her eyebrows. Her Acura is a lease. Her townhouse has been refinanced twice. Follow the money.”
At least three times since Megan had turned up the details of the inheritance, she’d reviewed the account statements for Kayla and Ashley. Like Ashley, Kayla had used the portion she’d received from her father’s estate to purchase her townhouse. Unlike Ashley, Kayla had made monthly deposits into her savings account. She’d owned a solid stock portfolio, had paid for her Jeep outright, and had invested in a timeshare in Tahoe—a unit near Squaw Valley.
“I can’t convince myself Ashley killed her sister for material gain.” Megan drummed her fingertips on the steering wheel. “Her agent confirmed how employable she is. She is booked solid through April.”
“She’s in the hole.”
So were Megan and half the women she knew. But kill your twin for cash? No, she didn’t buy it.
“What if jealousy was the motive?” Rodrigo folded his arms.
“That would require Kayla having a lover, and according to her neighbors, she didn’t.” Not currently anyway, Megan speculated. And she couldn’t see Ashley killing her sister to date Captain Wald. She also didn’t buy him as a killer. Sure, he was combustible but not violent to the point of murder.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Kayla stoodat Mallard Pond searching for a sense of calm.
“Hey, pal.” Eve snared her in a hug and released her. “How are you holding up?”
“You have no idea how uncomfortable this is.”
“You could’ve worn flats instead of heels.”
“I meant pretending to be my sister. All of these people should be mourning her, not me.”
“Ashley!” Her uncle David approached and enfolded her in his arms.
“David.” She buried her face in his tweed jacket and drank in his scent, a mixture of tobacco and Pierre Cardin cologne. How she wished she could stay in his embrace forever. But she couldn’t. Ashley wouldn’t have been so demonstrative. She forced herself to step away. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I cut my conference short.” David, typically a handsome older man, looked drawn and particularly fragile. “It’s horrible. She was so . . .” He ran fingers through his dark hair. “So sweet.”
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked.
What a stupid question! Of course he wasn’t. She and he . . . they . . . had been a team.
Kayla swiveled to introduce him to Eve, but she’d wandered off.
David pulled breath mints from his pocket and popped two into his mouth. Kayla recognized the action. The mints would mask the smell of alcohol. Could she blame him for drinking so early in the morning? He loved her as much as she loved him. Over the years, they had spent hours together, target shooting or rebuilding engines or clearing the forest around his cabin near Mill Valley. He had taken a particular interest in her love of dirt biking and had purchased a Suzuki so he could ride with her whenever she visited. Kayla ached to tell him the truth, and even though he was a surgeon of great acclaim and never drank to excess the night before an operation, she couldn’t be sure this wouldn’t be the one time he would overindulge.
Loose lips sink ships.
David clasped her hands. “Come to dinner tonight at the cabin. We can talk.”
“Sure. After the reception. I’ll need directions.” Ashley had never been to their uncle’s house. Battle bugs or break a nail? Forget it. Kayla knew her sister’s resistance had cut David to the quick.
He withdrew a pen from his pocket, jotted the information on the back of a business card, and handed it to her. Tears welled in his eyes. “The police will get it right this time. They’ll nail the bastard. You’ll see.”
