Free Cat Laughing Last by Shirley Rousseau Murphy Page B

turn,” Garza said. “The nine years they’ve been married, she’s had a chance to work into the building trade—but only at her insistence. She got him to let her do some designing and to work on the jobs. She’s learned the business well, and she has solid carpentry skills.”
    Garza discarded two cards and watched Juana deal. “In all other ways, Rupert’s a real loser. But Ryan’s good at what she does, she’s made a name for herself as well as for the firm—something Rupert never gave her credit for. She has a nice design style, very original. She wants to get her license in this county, start her own construction firm. She loves the village. When the girls were small, we spent a lot of summers and holidays down here.”
    From the kitchen counter, Joe watched Garza with interest. He’d seen something of Garza’s closeness with Ryan’s sister Hanni, who now lived in the village and had her own interior designing firm. But he’d not seen this degree of fatherly pride that Dallas had for Ryan. He knew that, under the guidance of Garza and the girls’ father, the three sisters had learned not only to cook and clean house, but to shoot and handle firearms properly, to train the hunting dogs that Garza loved, and to ride a horse—all skills, apparently, that the two law enforcement officers felt would build strong young women. Joe had learned a lot about Garza when he’d moved in with the detective last winter, playing needy kitty.
    That was when Garza was first sent down to the village, on loan from San Francisco PD, to investigate the murders for which Max Harper was the prime suspect. When Garza first arrived, Joe and Dulcie both had thought they smelled a rat. They’d been sure that in this prime case of collusion to ruin Harper, Garza was part of the setup. The week that Joe had lived with the detective, he had played up to Garza as shamelessly as any groveling canine in order to learn Garza’s agenda.
    He’d ended up not only sharing Garza’s supper, and privately accessing Garza’s interview tapes and notes, but admiring and respecting the detective. Then later, when the case was closed, Max Harper had thought enough of Garza to ask him to join Molena Point PD.Garza had jumped at the chance to get out of San Francisco for the last five years of his service.
    â€œShe’ll be taking her maiden name again,” Garza said, “R. Flannery. She wants no part of Rupert, except to be paid for her half of the business. Said she doesn’t want to see me or her sister for a few days, either, until she gets herself together. That’s the way she is. Hardheaded independent.”
    â€œDon’t know where she got that,” Harper said, grinning.
    â€œOne thing,” Garza said, shuffling the cards. “She drove one of the company trucks down, to haul her stuff. Said the brakes were really soft.” He looked at Clyde. “Would you…?”
    â€œFirst thing in the morning,” Clyde said. “Tell her we open at eight.”
    â€œLikely she’ll be waiting at the door.” Garza paused, surveying his cards. “She did say something strange—she asked about Elliott Traynor. Said she’d heard the Traynors were in the village, asked if I’d met them. Said they’d spent a month in San Francisco last fall. Before Traynor got sick, I guess. They flew out from New York, apparently on business. She and Rupert met them through mutual friends.”
    At mention of the Traynors, Charlie looked quickly down at her cards. Laying her cards facedown, she bent her head to retie the ribbon that bound back her kinky hair, hiding her face, concealing some swift and uncomfortable reaction that made Joe Grey watch her with interest. Was there a look of guilt on her freckled face? But why would Charlie feel guilty about Vivi and Elliott Traynor?
    As Clyde dealt a hand of five card draw,