“Well, Dad refused to talk to him, but I didn’t,” Tanda stated, defiance clear in her eyes again. “First I made him come up with the money Dad had thrown away getting him free of all charges, and then I told Don what I thought of him. Don didn’t stay for the whole speech—I guess the truth made him too uncomfortable—and although he was here the whole month, he never tried to come back to the house. It must have finally gotten through that we didn’t want to know him.”
“But now you’re trying to find the person who killed your brother,” Mike pointed out. “Are you doing it out of respect for your mother’s memory, or is there another reason?”
“My dad died less than a year ago,” Tanda said, now toying with her coffee cup. “I wouldn’t have gotten in touch with Don even if I’d known where he was, so I was shocked when he showed up for the funeral. He paid for everything, mourned alone, then left again without even trying to speak to me. He seemed…quieter than usual, somehow changed, and when he came back at the beginning of this month he sent a note asking me to have dinner with him.”
“And you went,” Mike said, knowing it for a fact. “Did you find out if he really was changed?”
“Maybe I was kidding myself,” she answered with a shrug and a sigh. “All I know is that his practiced charm wasn’t beating me over the head any longer, and what he wanted to talk about was our time as kids. I found out in passing that he was a widower, and I hadn’t even known he’d been married. I think it had finally come to him that he and I were the last of the family, and he was trying to make things right between us.”
“But before he could do it he was killed,” Mike summed up, finally understanding. “He might not have been serious about it, but now you’ll never know.”
“But I will know who killed him,” she said, staring at Mike fiercely. “It’s a final gesture I owe my brother, even if he wasn’t serious. What else can I tell you?”
“How about the details of your own whereabouts?” Mike said, taking advantage of the moment. “Saxon called you last night, and arranged to see you in person this morning. What time did he call, and where were you from then until you got here?”
“He called about seven-thirty last night,” she said, again frowning in thought. “I went to bed early, and was out by four this morning to track fugitives.”
“To do what?” Mike asked, looking up from his notebook to blink at her. “You couldn’t have said what I thought you did.”
“Oh, we weren’t tracking real fugitives,” she answered with a laugh that brightened her whole face. “It’s what the exercise is called, and I usually have friends doing the remote part. Teddy went first this morning, and she performed beautifully.”
“It’s obvious that I’m missing something here,” Mike said, still staring. “Who is Teddy, and what sort of exercises were you doing?”
“I thought you knew,” Tanda said with a smile replacing the laugh. “I raise and train bloodhounds, and right now Teddy is my star pupil. Yesterday afternoon one of my friends laid a trail through Rimsdale Mall, visiting certain prearranged stores before leaving by a specified exit. At four this morning Teddy followed that trail, and found every stop her quarry had made. Doing the tracking with no one around is to keep onlookers from getting upset.”
“But you said the trail was laid yesterday afternoon,” Mike protested. “Since the mall doesn’t close until 9:00 p.m., how could there still be a trail after so many people have walked over it? There’d be nothing left to follow.”
“For you and me, maybe, but not for a really good bloodhound,” Tanda corrected with amusement. “Teddy’s father once followed a trail that was laid through a site that was about to be used for a three-day Renaissance fair. He wasn’t put on the trail until the fair was over, but he still had no trouble. Very often the hardest part is to train your tracker to follow the trail, not shortcut to the end of it. If the trail is too short and the person being tracked is standing at the end of it, that’s what happens.”
“That’s something I’d like to see someday,” Mike said, seriously fascinated. “So you were out this morning tracking fugitives. Was there anyone with you?”
“Only Teddy and Masher,” Tanda admitted, losing her amusement. “They may be good trackers, but they lack something as witnesses. I hadn’t realized that I could end up being a suspect.”
“Right now I’m only collecting information,” Mike soothed, surprised to find that he didn’t consider Tanda a suspect. “Since your own movements can’t be confirmed, let’s go back to Saxon’s. You told him all about your brother, and then what did he do?”
“He asked about where Don had been staying, then wanted directions to the local newspaper office,” Tanda responded. “I told him about Don’s house, but I don’t know if he went to look at it.”
“That’s the house your brother bought and renovated five years ago?” Mike asked, remembering the reference to it in the case file. “I understand that he put a lot of money into the place, but only lived in it one month out of the year. Do you have any idea why he did that?”
“None,” she admitted. “It certainly wasn’t for the purpose of being close to Dad and me. We were never invited out to see the house. I understand he bought the place longer than five years ago, but didn’t do the renovations until then. Whatever, he didn’t even mention it at dinner.”
“Well, I think this is enough to get started with,” Mike said, closing his notebook. “I should have more information later today, and probably more questions to go with it. Will you be at home?”
“All day,” she said, finishing her coffee. “Feel free to come by with as many questions as you like. You’re very easy to talk to.”
“Most people would not agree with that sentiment,” Mike told her with his own amusement as they left the booth. And to be honest, he’d just been thinking the same about her… “I’ll try to call before dropping in.”
“Fine,” she said with a smile, offering her hand. “Thanks for the coffee—and the understanding ear.”
“Understanding your situation isn’t terribly difficult,” Mike said, liking the firm way she took his hand. “Losing a brother is the hard part of life. You may not have liked your brother, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t love him.”
She looked as though she was about to say something else, then apparently thought better of it. After retrieving her umbrella she left the diner, unaware of the way Mike’s gaze followed.
You’d better watch that, old man, he thought as he stopped to pay for the coffee. No matter what you said, she is a suspect, and it won’t do you any good to let gray eyes make you forget that. She isn’t the first attractive woman you’ve met, so get a grip on yourself.
With that firm advice ringing in his head he went back out into the rain, but it didn’t do the good he’d been hoping for. He never had met a woman like Tanda Grail before, and it was more than the possibility of new answers that made him look forward to their next meeting. Maybe he would even find an excuse to ask her out to dinner…
TANDA GRAIL CLIMBED into her van, then sat there for a moment with her eyes closed behind the hand covering them. Events around her were growing from bad dream to nightmare, and she had already begun to feel helpless to stop them. But that didn’t mean she intended to quit on the promise she’d made herself. She would find the one who had killed Don, and make sure he or she faced everything the law demanded.
Through the rain-soaked windshield Tanda saw Lieutenant Gerard come out of the diner and head back toward the motel. He was dark-haired and dark-eyed, handsome in a tired, overworked way. He wasn’t the police