Part 15 (1/2)
”Yes. I was with her less than twenty-four hours after I left the hospital before . . .”
Savannah noted that Northrop had difficulty with those words, too. But she couldn't blame him. What was worse than having a loved one die? Having them taken from you with murder.
She couldn't imagine a torment more h.e.l.lish than that.
So she was particularly gentle when she asked her next question. ”Mr. Northrop, as difficult as this must be, could you please tell us everything you remember about that morning?”
”I've already told Charlotte everything, but if you think it might help find whoever did this to Amelia, I'll do it.”
”It might,” Savannah said. ”Both Detective Coulter and myself have quite a bit of experience investigating homicides. Not that we'll do any better than your friend Chief La Cross, but”-she glanced over at Dirk and saw the grimace on his face-”but we'll certainly try.”
”Since we saw it happen right in front of us,” Dirk added, ”we've sorta got an investment in the outcome.”
Northrop thought for a moment; then he said, ”It was really just a regular morning. Amelia got up and fixed us some coffee. She brought me one of my favorite m.u.f.fins and a bowl of yogurt and served me in bed. She got dressed for work and made sure that our maid knew which meds I was supposed to take and when. Then she kissed me good-bye, and-”
His voice caught and it was a while before he could continue. ”I told her I loved her and thanked her for helping me through such an awful time. Then she left. That was the last time I ever saw her.”
”How did you find out what happened to her?” Dirk asked.
”Charlotte came by and broke the news to me. She was very upset. She and Amelia were very close.”
Savannah thought back on Charlotte La Cross's mood at the scene and didn't recall her appearing particularly distraught. But then, people register anguish differently.
”What did La Cross say to you?” Dirk asked. ”Did she tell you your wife had been shot, or did she give you that load of c.r.a.p that she told the television station?”
”She told me the truth. Just as we had when I was shot, we agreed it might be best for all concerned not to be forthcoming with all the details.”
”How would that benefit anyone?” Savannah asked.
Northrop looked down, toying with the sash on his robe. ”We've broken ground on the casino, but we had a few investors drop out because of those environmentalists. Until others are on board and fully committed, we can't have that sort of negative publicity.”
For the first time since they had arrived, Savannah had an unsympathetic thought about William Northrop. At the moment, hearing what he had just said, she thought he seemed more like a coldhearted b.a.s.t.a.r.d than a loving, grieving husband.
”Negative publicity?” Dirk snapped. Apparently, he was seeing Northrop the same way. ”You refer to the facts of your wife's murder as 'negative publicity'?”
Northrop's pale complexion flushed red with anger. ”It's not like we were going to bury it forever! Charlotte is investigating the crime exactly the same way she would whether all the information had been released or not. Why does it matter?”
”Someone might have information,” Savannah said. ”Someone could have seen something important, maybe even the killer fleeing the scene. But if the public just thinks it was an accidental drowning.... Do you see my point?”
”Yes, but my investors will be making their decisions in the next twenty-four hours. By then, the autopsy will be done on Amelia, and Charlotte can announce the coroner's findings. About the bullets and all.”
Dirk leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. ”It couldn't be that your chief of police wants to hide the fact that she's had two people shot-one of them dead-in the past two weeks, in this little island paradise of hers?”
”That might have played a part in her decision, too,” Northrop replied. ”But whatever her reasons, everything that Charlotte does is for the island. She loves it, and so do I. So did Amelia. She would want us to do what's best for Santa Tesla and its inhabitants.”
Dirk stood. Savannah could tell he'd had enough. ”What's the name of that environmental group, the one that threatened you?” he asked.
”They call themselves the Island Protection League.”
Dirk pulled out his notebook and scribbled in it. ”What's the head honcho's name, the one who threatened you?”
”The death threats were anonymous, of course. But the woman in charge is Dr. June Glenn. She has an office down in the harbor, next to the coast guard station.”
Savannah stood, too, and held out her hand to Northrop. With some difficulty, he rose and took it between both of his. This time, his handshake was stronger, and his skin felt warmer and less clammy than before.
”We're going to do all we can to help you,” she said, ”in honor of your wife's memory. No one should have their life taken from them like that. The person responsible has to pay.”
”Thank you, Ms. Reid. I truly appreciate your efforts.”
Dirk, however, was less gracious. He shook Northrop's hand, but it was a quick, curt gesture. ”We'll try not to generate any of that 'negative publicity' while we're doing it,” he added as he headed toward the door. ”G.o.d forbid you don't get that fine establishment built and the people of Santa Tesla have to keep eating macaroni and cheese three times a day.”
Savannah watched her beloved new husband walk out the door. She turned back to Northrop and tried to think of something she could say to make such an awkward exit a little more gracious.
But she couldn't think of a darned thing.
”Bye,” she said, and then followed after Dirk.
Chapter 13.
”Sorry, babe,” Dirk said as they walked from Northrop's door back to the Jaguar, ”but I couldn't handle being around that guy a minute longer. That stuff he was saying made me wanna punch his lights out.”
When he opened her car door for her, Savannah thought of what Northrop had said about getting shot as he was opening Amelia's door for her. She couldn't help feeling a pang of sympathy for him.
”Oh, I don't know. He doesn't seem like such a bad sort, overall,” she said as she got in. ”I can see he's broken up about Amelia-in spite of the other stuff he said.”
Dirk closed her door, walked around, and got into the driver's seat. As he started up the powerful engine, he said, ”You're just feeling sorry for him because he got shot, like you did. It's clouding your judgment.”
Savannah's temper flared. To suggest that she wasn't being objective was insulting. It was a particularly infuriating insult because, in her heart, she knew it was true.
Those were always the biggest p.i.s.s-offs. The ones you knew were dead on.
”It's not just that,” she snapped back. ”He's also a newly made widower. When I look at him, I can't help thinking how I'd feel if, G.o.d forbid, anything happened to you.”
Dirk turned the Jag around in the driveway and headed for the gates. ”That's an emotional thing, too. You're all goo-goo because you're a newlywed, so that sorta thing gets to you quicker.”
She shot him a dirty look. ”Well, with you talking like that, I'm getting less goo-goo by the minute.”
He reached over and put his hand on her knee. ”I'm just saying you can't let your sweet, compa.s.sionate, emotional side get in the way here. You have to evaluate every person and every situation logically at a time like this.”
”What's your oh-so-logical evaluation of the situation and that guy back there?”
The gates parted in front of them, and Dirk wasted no time getting past them.
”Northrop's a guy with an expensive bathrobe and an expensive, weird gla.s.s house, who's covering up what happened to him and his wife-a couple of crimes that are as serious as they get-all for the sake of turning a buck.”
”You think that's all the casino complex is to him? A way to make money?”