Lethal Legacy Read online

  Amy reined in her temper. “Would you locate him for me please?”

  “He’s in a meeting.”

  Amy clenched her teeth. Some meeting. She’d seen the sheriff’s patrol car parked in front of Myra’s Restaurant on her way through town. “Doesn’t Sheriff Boyce have a two-way radio?”

  “He doesn’t like being disturbed when he’s, uh … when he’s in a meeting.”

  Amy plunked her rear on a chair. “Then, you’ll have to upset him. Cause I’m not moving.”

  Half an hour later, Sheriff Boyce lumbered into the office and yelled, “Doowayne, how many times have I told you not to bother me when I’m over at My,” he caught sight of Amy and glowered, “I mighta known.” Boyce stomped behind the counter. “Deputy Pierce, put Nguyen in the visiting room.” He jerked his head at Amy. “Stick her in the hall.”

  Minutes dragged by while Amy sat waiting on a hard wooden bench. After awhile, an Asian man appeared out of the murky shadows of the dimly lit hall. Shoving a damp mop back and forth over bilious green vinyl, he moved along the corridor toward her.

  When about twenty feet separated them, he lifted his head and Amy caught her breath. A puckered scar stretched from his right cheekbone to his ear and his eyes when he met hers were jet black and cold as a cobra’s. A chill ran through her. She clutched her purse and prayed the deputy would hurry back.

  After what seemed an eternity, Deputy Pierce sauntered out of the gloom and came up behind the man with the mop. “Get your ass in gear, Sen. You gotta swab out Nguyen’s cage.”

  Pierce snickered, opened a door halfway down the hall, and motioned Amy inside. “Don’t be passing any stuff to him, ya hear?” He propped himself in the open doorway and took a folded comic book from his back pocket.

  The gray, windowless room had an entrance at either end. A table-height partition topped with a four-foot wide counter extended from wall to wall. Cam slumped in a chair on one side of the barrier.

  Amy took her seat and peered at the man. Even when they’d worked double shifts as interns, he’d always managed to appear neat and well groomed. Now, he had mussed hair, rumpled clothing, and the skin covering his fine-boned features had taken on a greenish cast.

  “Cam.” She put her hand out as far as she could but still couldn’t reach him. “I’m so sorry.”

  He let out a sigh that shook his entire body. “Thanks for coming. Amy. I still can’t believe this is real.” He looked at her with a stricken expression. “The whole thing is a nightmare.”

  “That’s for sure.” She sat forward. “Cam, if I’m to help you I need to know what happened. Are you up to answering some questions?”

  “Anything ….” He wiped his hand over his face. “Anything that’ll help make some sense out of this. I’m so glad you’re here. I really need a friend right now.”

  Amy opened her notebook and placed it on the counter. “Some of these questions may upset you, but just keep in mind that I believe you’re innocent. And you have my word that I’m going to do everything in my power to help you prove that.”

  Cam nodded and took a deep breath. “Please, go on,” he said.

  “Had you and Mai been having any problems?”

  A sad expression crossed his face. “Some.”

  Amy’s stomach tightened. “Tell me about it.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been going over and over this for hours. I think things started falling apart about six months ago.”

  “What happened?”

  “After Mai’s father died … I don’t know, she changed.”

  “In what way?”

  “She became withdrawn. I thought the move back to her old home, and taking care of Chantou’s landscape business, would help her.” He swallowed and shook his head. “She got worse. Started imagining things. People following her, spying on her. She had all the locks changed twice.”

  Amy jotted down a few words. “Did you work late Friday night?”

  “No…” Cam put his head in his hands. “If only I’d gone home, maybe…” He met Amy’s steady gaze. “I had dinner with a woman I met at the hospital. Afterwards, we went to her apartment. Nothing happened, Amy. I swear it. All we did was talk. Amy, you know I loved Mai. I wouldn’t ….”

  Amy nodded, but didn’t comment. “What time did you get home?”

  Cam glanced at her, then away. “About twelve-thirty.”

  Amy recorded the time. “Where was Mai?” His mouth trembled as he tried to get himself under control. “She was … lying naked on the floor of our bedroom.” His dark eyes grew moist. “Amy, Mai wouldn’t let anyone see her naked…” He gulped. “We were married two years before she even let me.”

  Amy nodded. “I remember you telling me she refused even to wear tennis shorts.”

  “Most old-country Cambodian girls are like that.”

  “What did you do after you found Mai?”

  “So much blood. God, it was all over her. I tried to stop the bleeding,” his voice broke, “Then her … her heart stopped and … I tried to resuscitate her.” He raised his eyes to meet Amy’s. “I save other people’s lives all day long.” He beat his fist on the counter. “But I couldn’t save my own wife.”

  “Don’t do this to yourself, Cam. I’ve seen you work. I know you did everything you could to save her.”

  “It didn’t keep her from dying.”

  “If you couldn’t help her, nobody could.” She gave him a moment to compose himself, then spoke again. “Let’s go back to this woman you were with. Will she testify you were together?”

  Cam pressed his fingers into his temples and shook his head. “It’s the strangest thing. The sheriff says he went to the apartment to check my story. The manager told him he’d never heard of Chea Le, that apartment 105 is only used for display and it’s never been rented by anyone.”

  Amy blew out her breath. “That is strange…”

  Cam leaned forward. “You believe me, don’t you?”

  “Of course, I,” As Amy started to reassure him, she heard the clank of a bucket in the hallway and remembered the man with the chilling stare. “Just a second.” Jumping to her feet, she peered around Deputy Pierce. Mop in one hand, bucket in the other, the janitor was shuffling down the hall.

  She turned to the deputy. “Has that man been outside this door ever since we started talking?”

  “Huh?” The deputy lowered his comic book. “What man?”

  She rounded on him, her brown eyes blazing. “The one you called Sen.”

  The deputy smirked. “No reason to get all het-up. He’s only the janitor.”

  “It’s your job to keep this meeting confidential. Whoever he is, he can broadcast Cam’s story all over the Southeast Asian community you … you ….” Amy made a sound of disgust, seated herself opposite Cam and tried to retrieve her train of thought.

  “Is this Chea Le a nurse at the hospital?”

  “No. She’s a volunteer,” Cam said.

  “What do you know about her?”

  “We only went out that one time. She told me that she and her boyfriend had quarreled. We shared our troubles.”

  “The administration office should have some information on her, shouldn’t they?”

  He shrugged. “Volunteers are a hospital fixture. I can’t remember even speaking to one before I met Chea.”

  While Amy scribbled a reminder to call Harborview Medical Center in Seattle, her mind hit upon a far-fetched notion. “You’re Vietnamese, aren’t you, Cam?”

  “Ethnically speaking, but my father’s family lived in Cambodia for generations. And as you know, my mother is Caucasian.”

  “How do Cambodians feel about the Vietnamese?”

  “There’s hostility on both sides.” He grimaced. “Khmers call the Vietnamese barbarians. The Vietnamese call the Khmers lazy.”

  “Khmers?”

  Cam’s heavy brows knotted in an irritated frown. “‘Cambodia’ is a name the French and English tacked on the country. Natives
think of themselves as Khmers and their country as Kampuchea. Where is all this going, Amy?”

  “I’m searching for a motive.”

  He stared at her, his eyes wide. “A blood feud? Good God, Amy, that’s ridiculous.”

  “Do you have a better idea? Who had a reason to kill Mai?”

  Cam winced and turned his head.

  “Cam?” Amy said. “Is there someone you suspect”

  “She was…” Cam’s head drooped and he bit his lip.

  “Was what? Don’t hold out on me, Cam. I need to know everything, no matter how hard this is for you.”

  He expelled a long sigh. “I saw her not too long ago with a man.”

  “Who was he? Did you know him?”

  “No. I mean, I don’t know. I never saw his face.”

  “Where did you see them? What were they doing?”

  “On the street. I followed her one day. She’d been acting so strange. It looked as if they were arguing.” He jumped to his feet. “Dammit, Amy, what’s the point of going into all this? Nobody’s going to believe me.”

  “Let my father and me be the ones to worry about that. Did you ask Mai about the man you saw her with?”

  “She wouldn’t tell me anything. Not his name or what they’d been talking about or what he meant to her. Nothing. All she did was cry.”

  Amy started to close her notebook, then changed her mind. “Did Mai say anything to you before she died?”

  “Only two words.” Cam slumped down on the chair. “Sounded like, ‘My garden.’”

  “That mean anything to you?”

  His face softened. “Mai loved her topiary garden. Her father started it when she was a child. And even when he had to labor fourteen hours a day to keep his business going, he still found time to work on the animals he created for her.”

  He traced a scratch in the counter top with his fingernail. “Funny thing though, after she moved back home, she wouldn’t go near the garden. One day, she even went into hysterics when I tried to coax her inside.”

  Amy finished her notes and stood up. “I’m going to wander through town and ask some questions. Got any ideas who I should talk to?”

  He shook his head. “When we were going together, Mai used to visit with practically everyone we met. Since her father died, she’s scarcely seen anyone. Lately, she even refused to go into town for groceries.”

  Amy slipped her notebook into her purse. “I’ll do some checking and get back to you in a few days. Is bail being arranged?”

  “What money we have is tied up. I’m stuck here.”

  “Hang in there, Cam. I’ll do everything I can to help you.” She gave him a thumbs-up sign and left.

  The next two hours proved to be an exercise in frustration. Questions she addressed to shop owners and people on the street produced nothing but shrugs and impassive looks. Finally she gave up and started home.

  She had crossed the Wasku River before she took any notice of the blue pickup truck behind her. After about ten miles had passed, she saw that the vehicle was still the same distance behind her. Smiling at herself for being paranoid, she slowed down. The truck kept the same amount of space between them. When she sped up, so did the other driver. She decided to get serious. Doing sixty around curves that weren’t safe at thirty-five, she tried to shake him. No way would she let him follow her home.

  When she and her father set up their business, they discovered that being forensic investigators had a down side. People they helped convict sometimes sought revenge. Now, they met clients at places other than the office. They maintained a post office box for their mail and kept their address out of the phone book.

  She zoomed down a straight stretch of highway. The station wagon’s tires drilling asphalt, she whipped onto a graveled side road and barreled down a winding lane hemmed by tall fir trees. Gravel spitting, she made a hard left at the intersection. When she reached a farmhouse, she turned up the rutted driveway and stopped among screening evergreens. Her pulse thundering in her ears, she waited.

  Minutes later, a blue pickup flashed by.

  3

  The following day, Amy left the specialist’s office in a rosy daze. Twins! Now she’d have two of Nathan’s children instead of only one, a double blessing, since they would be the only reminder she’d have of him.

  Three months ago, Nathan had married a woman of his own race. He’d given Amy plenty of warning. Told her of his impending wedding. Spoken of his white mother’s untimely death and the judgment his grief-stricken father had made: white women were weak, Indian women are strong. His father had drummed his convictions into Nathan, along with the admonishment not to dilute his Native American bloodline any further.

  She pictured Nathan’s firm, resolute face and couldn’t help loving him, despite the pain he’d caused her. With a sigh, she rested her head against the wall of the elevator, and wondered if Nathan was still so sure he’d done the right thing.

  When she exited the building and glimpsed the weak but welcome January sun, her mood lightened. The news about the twins called for a celebration.

  Strolling up Seattle’s Fifth Avenue, she entered the plushly carpeted lobby of the Maxfield Hotel. On her way to the dining room, she passed a reader board. In letters so small she had to squint to read them, the management welcomed members of “The Resort Owner’s Association.” She smiled and hoped the convention participants had better eyesight than she did, or they’d never know where to meet.

  Whiffs of opulent perfumes and a murmur of genteel voices surrounded her as she moved through the foyer. After checking her coat, a silver haired maître d’ hurried up to her. “Is madam alone?”

  “Yes,” she said, taking note of how his black suit and snowy white shirt complemented the elegant mauve and sea foam green decor. She flashed her warmest smile. “Is that a problem?”

  “Oh, no ma’am. Please follow me.” He escorted her to a table, bowed and returned to his station.

  Pleased that her new outfit’s full, navy-blue jacket and billowy pink blouse cleverly concealed her gravid state, she settled herself on the mauve velvet chair. Picking up the gilt menu, she beamed at the other diners and silently announced, I’m going to be the mother of twins.

  “Amy!”

  The menu fell from her hands. She must be hallucinating. Although she often carried on long internal conversations with Nathan, this was the first time she’d imagined him speaking to her. She glanced right and left, saw no one she recognized, and sank back in her chair.

  But then the voice came again. “Amy…? Amy, is that…?”

  The sound of the familiar deep voice drawing out the syllables of her name speeded her pulse. Finally, she caught sight of him, and when she did, everyone and everything else faded into the background. Garbed in a dark gray pinstripe suit, he could have passed for a successful banker, if it weren’t for his black, shoulder-length hair.

  She watched him approach, noting the reaction of the men as their female companions took in the sight of Nathan, his tall, lithe form, his high cheekbones, the slight curve of his nose, his beautiful mouth.

  Oblivious to their stares, he moved through the crowd, wearing a look of bemused wonderment.

  When he reached her table, he stared down at her and shook his head. “This is unbelievable. You’re really here.”

  His soft tone as he spaced each word in his usual deliberate fashion sent a shiver through her. Never in her wildest imaginings had she envisioned a meeting such as this.

  Her pulse thundering in her ears, she stared at him . “Nathan! What are you doing in Seattle?” she gasped.

  “Attending a resort owner’s conference.”

  Understanding dawned on her. “Yes, I saw the sign outside.” She eased the white tablecloth closer to her abdomen, hoping her dress concealed her pregnancy. “Is the lodge finished then?”

  “Yes,” Nathan answered. He rested his hand on the chair opposite her and smiled. “Are you eating alone?”

  She nodded and
drew in a breath that didn’t seem to fill her lungs. “Would you like to join me?”

  Without taking his gaze from her face, he pulled out the chair. As he lowered himself into it, a waitress appeared. “My name is Nathan Blackthorn,” he informed the woman. He took a room key from his jacket pocket. “Will you put our lunch on my room tab, please?”

  “Would you like a menu, Mr. Blackthorn?”

  Nathan shook his head. “I’ll have whatever my companion is having.”

  Amy snatched up the menu. Smoked salmon croquettes, the least expensive entrée on the page, cost fifteen dollars. She gave her order and waited until the waitress moved out of earshot before whispering, “Nathan, I can’t let you treat me. The prices here are sky high.”

  He narrowed his eyes, gave a careful look around, and leaned toward her. “Shh, I’m masquerading as a big-time resort owner.” He broke into a grin and then laughed. “Believe me, I can afford it.”

  Amy remembered the faded jeans and chambray shirts he’d worn when she’d first met him in Idaho. “So it’s all happening for you then.”

  “Yep.” He chuckled, then seemed surprised the sound had come from him. “We have a good snow pack and the ski lifts are running full bore. Believe it or not, The Wahiliye is booked up until spring thaw.” He smiled at her puzzled expression. “Wahiliye means Eagle Place. Do you like it?”

  Smiling, she nodded and tried to pronounce the name. “It doesn’t sound half as nice when I say it.”

  A mischievous look came into his eyes. “Want some lessons?”

  She raised an eyebrow, but ignored the question. “You’ve only had the lodge four months. How did you manage to get it up and running so fast?”

  He broke into a laugh and his eyes sparkled. “Luck, fourteen-hour days, and lots of help. I called a friend in Bavaria who used to own a resort. He flew in, liked the, area, and decided to stay.” He shook his head. “Mammoth job, Amy.”

  “Well, I guess. I’m amazed you’re already operational.”

  “I wouldn’t be if not for Franz,” he said as the waitress returned with their lunch. Nathan spread his napkin over his lap and picked up his fork. “It’s really wonderful though. Native Americans make up the majority of our work force. I opened a skill center to train them.”