“But who would want to kill either of them?” Melanie bit her lower lip, damning the quiver in her voice.
Before Kent could respond, they heard the throb of an approaching engine and the crunch of tires on the gravel drive. A green-and-yellow John Deere garden tractor puttered into view, a spry-looking elderly man perched on the seat, dressed in drab workingman’s clothing and wearing a straw hat. “The gardener?” Kent asked.
Melanie shook her head. “Victor Korchin,” she said. “I’m hoping he can tell us where Ariel is.” She turned from the window and hurried for the door, but Kent reached for her arm to hold her back.
“Wait,” he cautioned. “Until Captain Murphy gets here, the less said about anything that’s happened, the better. You’d better let me talk to him.”
“That’s ridiculous. I just want to ask him about Ariel.” Melanie pulled out of his grasp and backed up a step. “Victor has a right to know about Rachel and Stephanie. You can’t possibly think he’s involved in any way.”
“This is a murder investigation. I’m talking about police procedure here and we’ve already violated a number of important protocols. I’d like to keep my job, if you don’t mind.”
“I won’t mention them,” she promised, inwardly seething at the way he was treating her. She wheeled around and exited the little nursery, dashing down the stairs in angry haste. As she rushed forward to meet Victor, she heard the faint sound of sirens approaching from the main road. Victor stopped the tractor and cut the ignition.
“Melanie,” he said, climbing off the seat. He seemed surprised and pleased to see her. “Have you come to see Ari? This is good, so good, but I don’t think she is here.” Victor’s eyes focused over her shoulder. “Come up to the house, bring your gentleman friend, we’ll share a glass of wine and talk….” His expression changed as he heard the approaching sirens. “What’s wrong, Melly? What is it?”
“Oh, Victor,” Melanie said, crumbling at his use of her pet name. “We were hoping you’d know where Ariel was. It’s very important that we find her.” Melanie turned as Kent stepped up beside her. “This is Dr. Kent Mattson, and he’s…”
“Is Ariel sick? Is the baby all right?” Victor interrupted, his face becoming pale. “Something terrible has happened. What is it? Dear God, tell me.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Kent said. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait for the police to arrive. Maybe you’d better sit down.” He guided Victor toward the passenger side of the unmarked car before walking away to meet the police cars, and Melanie’s heart broke at how old Victor looked as he half collapsed onto the seat with a dazed, apprehensive expression.
“Melanie?”
“I’m here, Vic.” She knelt beside him. “I’m right here.”
“What has happened? Why can’t you tell me? Is Ariel all right? And her baby?”
Melanie closed her hands around his, feeling their cold tremble. “I don’t know, Victor. I honestly don’t know. Do you have any idea where she might be?”
“At her apartment, maybe? She spends most of her time there, now that Mitch is dead.”
“She isn’t there. We’ve checked.”
“I just cast her as the lead in our next production, Celtic Runes. Did she tell you? We were going to begin filming shortly…. Is she sick? Is she in some kind of danger?”
Victor was so distraught that Melanie was on the verge of telling him everything she knew when she felt Kent’s hand on her arm, drawing her to her feet as the police cars, a seeming platoon of them, careened around the corner and skidded to a stop, blue lights flashing, sirens cutting out one after another. Kent propelled Melanie along with him as he approached Captain Murphy’s car. She fixed Kent with a steely expression as she exited her vehicle. “Well?”
“The man over there is Victor Korchin,” Kent said. “According to Melanie, he was like a father to Ariel. All he knows is that she’s missing, and he learned that from us not five minutes ago. We told him nothing about the two murders, and we didn’t touch anything inside the cottage except for the letter in the nursery, and I wore gloves when I took it out of the envelope.” Kent glanced at Melanie, then ran his fingers through his hair. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get Melanie out of here. It’s been a helluva long day for her.”
Murphy gave Kent a curt nod of dismissal as she moved toward the unmarked car, signaling two other officers to accompany her. The three of them assisted the visibly shaken Victor to the captain’s vehicle. Halfway there he paused.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked, removing his straw hat. “I will need to leave a note for my wife that I am going.” He reached into his trouser pocket and drew forth a large handkerchief to dab the sweat from his forehead.
Melanie took a step forward, but before she could voice a single word, Kent pulled her back. He escorted her firmly to the car and planted her in the passenger seat. “But, Dr. Mattson, I can’t just leave Victor like this….”
“Not another word,” he said, his eyes steely. He shut the door and returned to where Murphy stood, bending close for a brief conversation before returning and climbing behind the wheel.
Kent backed up carefully, threading through the maze of police vehicles. “Murphy’s aware of the details. She’ll handle the questioning from here on out. She’s an expert at that.”
He was heading back down the winding driveway as he spoke, driving cautiously and yielding the right of way as other police vehicles approached. Melanie stared at his calm, impassive profile, experiencing another wave of heated indignation at his words. “You talk as if Victor’s a suspect.”
“It’s standard police procedure,” he repeated. “Murphy might not take him to the station house, but we have to question everyone who has any connection to these women.” He paused, then glanced sidelong at her. “I don’t suppose there’s anyone else Ariel was close to that you haven’t told us about, or any other places she might have been living?”
Melanie faced front and laced her hands tightly in her lap. “No.”
“Okay.” He turned left when he exited Blackstone’s impressive gate. “Then I think it’s time we found you a safe haven for the night.”
“Just drive me home, please,” Melanie said, battling an overwhelming weariness. “I want to be there if Ariel calls. She could be in terrible trouble.”
“It’s not a good idea for you to be alone.”
“You can’t possibly believe that I’m in danger, too,” Melanie said.
“Until we know for certain that you aren’t, I’m not taking any chances. I’d like you to give us permission to stake out your apartment for a few days, just in case, and if you insist on staying there, I’d like you to consider having an undercover officer on the premises. A woman, of course,” he added, as if she might have thought he was volunteering himself.
“Absolutely not,” Melanie said with a firm head shake. “My apartment is in a very safe part of town and I’ll be fine there by myself. I’m not going to argue about this, Dr. Mattson. I appreciate your concern, but please, just take me home.”
AS HE ENTERED Melanie’s apartment for the first time, Kent fully expected that he’d be overwhelmed with Hollywood pretentiousness and was pleasantly surprised by the homey simplicity of the place. It was a small apartment—the kitchen, dining room and living