She and Megan got into the car and headed past the shopping center to their hotel. “He’s right,” Megan said. “They think Mateo might be involved, don’t they? Some kind of inside man?”
“Why do you think that?”
“Well, his mom and aunt told me there was a lot of money in Pastor Fleming’s safe. I mean, a whole lot. Tens of thousands of dollars from these church loans he was going to pay back. Makes it easy to blame someone like Mateo who knew the money was there and had access. But,” she twisted in her seat to face Lucy, “I know he didn’t do it. He’d never have tortured Pastor Fleming to get the combination to the safe. He had the keys to the house—he could have easily have gotten the combination without resorting to violence. And why would he take both the pastor and the money? If he did do it, why not just run?”
Lucy noticed Megan didn’t bring up what was really bothering her. “If he is guilty, would he be foolish enough to set up an alibi with the daughter of a FBI agent?”
“Right. We would have known if he was lying to us, trying to use us. Wouldn’t we? Of course we would,” she answered her own question. “Mateo’s not stupid. He wouldn’t risk you getting the FBI involved.”
“So you don’t think Mateo is one of the bad guys.” Lucy tried to keep the question out of her voice. If she hadn’t met the boy and if he hadn’t gotten Megan involved, it would be so much easier to stay objective and let the facts sort themselves out.
But Megan needed reassurance. Now. Despite her outward confidence and her aura of maturity, she’d be forever shaken if Mateo had betrayed her. If Megan couldn’t trust her instincts about people, how would she ever be able to trust anyone?
That was the path Lucy walked, borderline paranoia. Only, thanks to Nick and Megan, she never made it very far, as much as she sometimes wanted to barricade her family and live by the policeman’s credo of trust no one, assume nothing.
It was a life she would never wish on her daughter.
“No. I don’t think Mateo is one of the bad guys,” Megan finally said. “Do you?”
Lucy thought for a moment, weighing all the inconsistencies of the crime scene. “I think we need to see where the evidence leads. For me, right now, it’s not pointing in that direction. But that doesn’t mean we can interfere with Chief Hayden’s investigation.”
Megan seemed disappointed in Lucy’s lack of commitment, but nodded. “Okay.” She glanced at Lucy. “I’m glad you’re here, Mom.”
Chapter 12
After she changed clothes, swapping the sodden khakis and blouse she’d worn to meet Mateo’s family for a pair of shorts and a polo top, Lucy stepped out onto the balcony for privacy and called Nick on Megan’s phone—hers was totally soaked and she didn’t want to risk turning it on until it had dried.
He wasn’t happy with the direction their spring break had taken. “She picked this guy up? How could she have acted so rashly?”
Lucy found herself in the unusual position of playing therapist. It wasn’t often that she was the calm one when it came to discussing Megan. “Seems like pretty normal teenage behavior to me. I mean, seriously, do you know any other girl her age whose parents subject their every choice to such scrutiny?”
“With our jobs, we’re not exactly helicopter parents, able to be with her physically every moment.”
“Exactly why we overcompensate. We’re trying too hard to protect her, make sure we’re involved in her life. But she’s fourteen, that’s the last thing she wants from us.”
“So you’re saying she’s making bad choices on purpose? To rebel?”
“I’m saying when I was her age, my choices were a lot worse. To think of my poor mom, raising me alone—” Lucy blinked as her eyes misted. She’d lost her mother only a few months ago and grief still ambushed her at unexpected moments.
“Did you get involved with an older man accused of murder?” Nick’s tone was pure protective paternalism—not a trace of the neutral clinical observer, the professional psychologist, or the Zen-harmony he usually brought to family discussions.
“She’s on vacation, at the beach, not with her friends but with her mother, the FBI agent. Of course she flirts with the first cute guy she meets—it’s totally safe. No friends around to judge her if he shoots her down, no risk of humiliation, and she knows I’d never let anything bad happen if her judgment is off.”
“Sounds like it couldn’t be more off. Violent, vicious, bloody murder.”
“There’s no body.”
“Not yet. And he set her up to walk in on the crime scene? How could she not have sensed something was off with this guy?”
“You mean how could I have missed it? After all, I spent the morning with them. I gave her permission to see him this afternoon.”
His silence was damning. Totally understandable—he wasn’t here, he hadn’t met Mateo, seen how protective his was of Megan while teaching her surfing, heard the caring tone of his voice when he spoke of his family.