He said nothing as she moved around quickly, going from room to room, making notes and taking pictures with her cell phone. All evidence that a murder had taken place had been removed long ago. With the furniture covered in drop cloths, the place was eerily silent.
As they left the boathouse about twenty minutes later to head back to Dalton’s car, Jules asked, “Did you often access the boathouse via the water?”
“Yes. My parents owned a boat at one time, and sometimes their friends would come to visit in boats of their own. Are you thinking that perhaps that’s how the killer got away without being seen?” he asked, opening the car door for her to get in.
Jules shrugged. “It’s a definite possibility. Clayburn claims that’s how your mother got him to the boathouse without being seen.”
When Dalton slid behind the steering wheel, he glanced over at her and said, “Hannah was telling the truth. She didn’t kill my mother.”
Jules snapped her seat belt in place. “What makes you so sure?”
“Hannah might have been mad enough to confront my mother. Even mad enough to think she could threaten her, which is why she’d taken the gun. But my mother was right. She didn’t have the guts...only because she has too much of a heart.”
Forty-Three
“I love it when you do this,” Jules moaned with closed eyes while Dalton massaged her feet. The past three days with him had been simply wonderful. They spent their nights together and woke up to make love each morning. She had worked late all three days, compiling her notes, moving people around on her wall and conducting more interviews. Today, Dalton had shown up at her office to take her to dinner. They never made it to the restaurant since the sexual heat between them had been unbearable. So instead, he had taken her home, stripped them both naked and made love to her. Then they had showered together and ordered takeout.
Now with a full stomach and dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, she was sitting on the sofa with Dalton. He had arranged their positions so her feet were in his lap while he massaged them.
“I love your hands on me,” she said softly, opening her eyes and looking at him.
A smile curved his lips. “Where?”
“Everywhere.”
“I like hearing that.”
“I could get used to this.”
Dalton leaned over and kissed her lips. “So could I.”
Jules stared into the dark eyes staring back at her. They were talking about more than the massaging of her feet, and they both knew it. “Could you really, Dalton? Get used to this? One woman? One pair of feet in your lap? One relationship?”
“Only if that woman is you.”
A knot caught in Jules’s throat. Was he talking about exclusitivity again or something else? She didn’t want to jump to conclusions but...
She was about to ask for clarification when her cell phone rang. The ringtone indicated it was Bruce. Earlier she had left a message for him to call her. She glanced over at Dalton. “I need to get this.”
“Yes, Bruce? I know it’s late but can you meet me at my office? In around thirty minutes?”
A few seconds later she smiled and said, “Great! I’m on my way.”
She clicked off the phone. “That was Bruce. While putting together all the information I’ve been gathering this week from persons of interest, something kept coming up.”
“What?”
“Y2K. Both Greene and Clayburn believe your mother only initiated affairs with them to find out information about it. I have a hunch about something that I want to discuss with Bruce tonight.”
Dalton pulled himself up off the sofa and then reached out his hand to her. “Then come on. Let’s go.”
*
Marcel pushed the documents he was reading aside when his phone rang. “Special Agent Eaton.”
“You are the federal agent who handled everything that went down at Granger Aeronautics a few months ago, right?”