California Schemin' - Kate George [40]
“They don’t ring any bells.” I looked briefly, then picked up the pictures and handed them to him. His glance dropped, and I realized that he was looking down my dress. My face flushed, and I stood and turned to look out the window. Hammie and Paris were sitting by the pool. He was leaning into her, talking earnestly. She had turned away and was looking out into the hills. I felt sorry for him. She was obviously cold and calculating, and he deserved better.
“Bree.” The senator’s voice was close behind me. “You’d be doing a good thing, identifying these men. I know pulling Lily from the river must have been very traumatic for you. This would be a way to make it better.”
I turned to face him. “Lying will not make me feel better. I’d like to help, but I can’t.” You probably killed her and I won’t lie to get you off the hook. “Sheriff Fogel sent me home because I didn’t see anything except a body in the river. If he thought I’d be any help, he would have kept me here. I want to go back home now. My family will be worried about me.”
“Your animals are being well taken care of, and your family knows that you are here as my guest. No one is looking for you.” His voice was smooth, but the lack of menace gave me chills. He expected to get what he wanted, and if he didn’t, I’d end up falling from the Foresthill Bridge with a bullet in my head.
I turned back to the windows as he motioned Paris and Hammie back into the room. I’d rather Hammie see the distress on my face than Senator Wallace. As it was, Paris glanced at my face as they entered the room, but Hammie kept his face turned away from me.
“Paris, come sit and amuse me, dear. Richard, please show Ms. MacGowan to her room.”
It was a pleasant enough room with pale yellow walls and an attached bathroom, but I couldn’t wait to get out of it. I’d been in a lot of crummy situations in the last six months or so, and I was ready for a change of pace that didn’t include dead bodies, being drugged or abducted. I missed my friends, my animals and Beau, of course. I hoped he was taking it easy, not that he had any alternative. It’s kind of difficult to get yourself into trouble when you’ve got your leg in a cast.
I stood at the window looking out over the gold and green landscape. It hadn’t rained enough to turn the hills completely green, but you could see it coming in patches. California was so strange compared to Vermont where it was green and lush in the summer, brown and muddy in November and April, and barren and snow-covered the rest of the year. Here, brown was still the prominent color, but I could see that given a couple of good rains the hills would be green again. Green in the winter, go figure.
There was a quiet knock, and Paris let herself in the room. She plopped onto the bed. I half expected her to collapse backward and let the bed support her, but she kept her spine straight and scowled at me.
“Wallace sent me in here to talk you into identifying the guys that murdered his wife. Thought maybe a woman’s touch would soften you up. Personally, I don’t think you’re that gullible.”
My emotions were near breaking point again, and I didn’t want to go crazy on this girl like I had on Hammie last night. I turned to the window again, gazing out across the fields. If I went out the window at night, how far could I get before someone caught up with me? Paris moved restlessly behind me, and I turned back to her.
“Do you know anything about what happened?” I asked.
“Only rumors. They’re flying thick and fast. Half the people I talk to are convinced that Wallace killed his own wife, the other half think someone had it out for her for other reasons. I don’t know what’s true.” She flopped back onto the bed. “I wish Richard would get the heck out of here. Wallace gives me the creeps, and now I’m stuck here, too, unless we can get you to cave.” She turned her head and looked at me. “You’re not going to cave, are you?”
“Don’t think so.