“But you what? You didn’t tell me you were in contact with your brother?”
“Mollie, he’s a suspect in the attack on you on Friday. He might have made the threatening call on Monday—”
“First things first, Deegan.” Her voice was strong, clear, confident. “Will you tell Griffen, too, or shall I?”
“I’ll tell her,” he said, and retreated, with Frank Sunderland spinning on his toes and following him out.
Mollie touched Jeremiah’s hand. “I’m sorry I jumped on you.”
“I probably would have done the same in your place.”
“Do you want to hang in here awhile?”
He nodded, watching Croc sleep. “I can’t believe the little bastard’s a damned millionaire. Helen Samuel says his Atwood trust is worth a fortune.”
“He’s tapped into it?”
“We don’t know.” He winced at the we. “Damn, I can’t believe I’ve collaborated on a story with her.”
Mollie smiled. “You two are a lot alike.”
“Don’t you start, too. That’s what she keeps telling me. You walked into a hell of a scene, didn’t you?”
“Deegan was sobbing. The cop guarding Croc called your friend Frank.” She was silent a moment, her clear gaze on the broken body in the neat, clean bed. “What do you suppose drove him onto the streets?”
“I don’t know, but he got into Harvard. After that, things seemed to fall apart. Maybe the parents can tell us.”
“Do you think they will?” she asked.
Jeremiah took in a breath. “I’ll find out, one way or the other.”
She curved a hand around the back of his neck, slid her fingers into his hair, and kissed him lightly. “Yes, you will, and not because you’re a reporter.” She dropped her hand, smiled warmly. “You’re also his friend.”
“Mollie.” His voice quaked, but he ignored the knot of fear in his throat. “If the attack on Croc wasn’t a coincidence—if he was set up—then someone’s trying to cover their own tracks.”
She nodded, still steady, although he could see that she’d followed his thinking, perhaps had already reached the same conclusion. “I’m the common denominator, and we still don’t know what it means, if anything. And I was attacked and threatened—” She swallowed visibly, but maintained her composure. “If Croc isn’t the jewel thief, or if the police don’t accept him as the jewel thief, I could be in danger.”
“You could be in danger, period.”
“Well. I guess next time I speak to Leonardo, I’ll tell him he’s not paranoid after all for having such an elaborate security system.”
“You’ll be there?”
“Waiting for you,” she said, and left him alone with Croc, aka Blake Wilder, aka Kermit Tiernay.
Jeremiah leaned over the kid’s sleeping body. “Where the hell your folks get a name like Kermit? No wonder you went off the deep end.”
He pulled up a chair and sat, wondering if Kermit Tienay’s parents would show up.
14
“Your brother’s a derelict and a jewel thief?” Griffen repeated for at least the third time, her stunned rage upon hearing news of Kermit Tiernay no surprise to Mollie. She, Griffen, and Deegan were at Leonardo’s pool, sitting in the shade, oblivious to the bright, hot afternoon sun. Griffen sputtered, still furious. “And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t know for sure,” Deegan said, remarkably calm under the circumstances. “I only suspected.”
Mollie watched a chameleon scurry into the grass. “We still don’t know your brother’s the thief.”
Neither reacted to her comment. Griffen, straddling a lounge chair, her sundress billowing in front of her, was still beside herself. “This explains why you’ve been acting so weird. You should have called the police, Deegan. They could have picked him up before he did any more damage.”
“Call them with what? I didn’t even know where to find him.” He was on his feet, pacing, the only sign he was affected by the morning’s events. “I did the best I could with what I had.”
Griffen wasn’t mollified. “Well, maybe someone did him a favor by beating the crap out of him. This thing was escalating. I’m glad it’s over.”
Deegan paused a moment, his gaze resting on his lover. “As Mollie said, we don’t know that Kermit is guilty.”
“It’s the most obvious, easiest explanation. So, it’s probably the right explanation. That’s how things work in the real world, even in Palm Beach. Conspiracies are for the movies. Most criminals are idiots. Your brother’s an idiot who got mugged by an idiot.” She leaned back and hoisted up her knees, her bare feet on the chair in front of her. She squinted up at Deegan. “Simple.”
He sighed, threw up his hands, and grinned suddenly, turning to Mollie. “Don’t you love it when she’s on a tear?”
“Go to hell,” Griffen told him.
Mollie shook her head. “I’m not saying a word.”
But all the fight had gone out of Griffen. “So, how’d Mum and Dad take the news their number one’s son’s back in town?”