Chapter Three #4
“Not right now,” Randolph said, her voice warm and kind. That, along with her smile, made her seem very approachable.
He wondered if she was the “good cop” to Lambert’s “bad cop.” Lambert was letting Randolph handle the check-in process, her attention focused on the lobby of the inn. She was cataloging the exits.
And him. She’d fully turned, giving him a frank appraisal. He had the feeling Sara Lambert already knew his strengths and vulnerabilities and had come up with at least a dozen ways to head off the questions he was about to ask.
Judith handed Randolph their key cards in a folder. “Our restaurant hours and the Wi-Fi password are written on the folder. We’re here twenty-four-seven if you need anything. Just call.”
“We will,” Randolph said, then hefted a duffel bag from the floor to her shoulder. “Shall we go to our room, Sara?”
But she’d seen him, too. She’d flicked a glance his direction before addressing her partner. She was ignoring him.
Too bad.
“Yes, let’s,” Lambert said, giving him a final look before grabbing her small suitcase.
He stepped forward, blocking their path. “Excuse me, Ms. Lambert, Ms. Randolph.”
Lambert tensed. “Yes, Officer?”
That she’d made him as law enforcement wasn’t a huge surprise. He knew he had the look, despite wearing a suit and not a uniform.
“Detective,” he corrected. “Detective Clarke, Mendocino County Sheriff’s Department.”
“Detective,” Lambert said evenly. “How can we help you?”
“I have a few questions for you.”
Lambert lifted dark brows in challenge. “Did we break the law?”
“Not that I know of,” he answered easily. “Did you?”
“No,” Lambert said firmly. “If we haven’t broken the law, we have nothing to say to you. We’re just passing through.”
“Uh-huh.” He kept his tone dry, watching both women. Lambert seemed composed, but he could sense her irritation. Randolph was openly wary. “Judith, do you have a private room we can use?”
“Sure thing, Ronan. You can use my office.”
“Thank you.”
Lambert eyed him, then Judith. “If I’d known the innkeeper was indiscreet, I’d have picked a different place.”
Judith’s mouth pursed, but she didn’t reply.
Randolph gave him a small smile. “Let’s let him ask his questions, Sara. Then we can go out and explore. I hear there’s a beach covered with glass that gets washed up from the ocean. I’d like to check it out.”
So they were pretending to be tourists.
He said no more until he’d directed them into Judith’s office and shut the door. “Dianne Foster,” he said.
“Dianne Foster?” Lambert echoed. “Who is she?”
Ronan had to shove down his anger. Who is she? Like they didn’t know. Like their questions hadn’t led to her death.
He smiled coldly. “She was the owner of the inn you stayed in the last time you were here in town. Three nights ago.”
Lambert remained coldly aloof, but Randolph went still. Slowly she lowered her duffel bag to the floor. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking because she’d blanked her expression. But he had her attention, her deep brown eyes steadily watching him. “Was?”
“She’s dead. Murdered, sometime yesterday, early morning. Probably after midnight. Two nights after you two bounty hunters were seen talking to her.”
Lambert grew sober, but Randolph’s expression didn’t change. She’d been a lawyer. He supposed that controlling her responses had been part of her job.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lambert said, and to her credit, she did seem sorry. “But I don’t know what that has to do with us. We weren’t staying at her inn by then. We’d moved on.”
Ronan had expected this dance, but he was still irritated by it. “You spoke with her. What about?”
“How was she killed?” Randolph asked.
Ronan focused on Giselle Randolph because, even though she remained expressionless, she seemed more likely to tell him what he needed to know. “What did you speak to her about?”
“We asked her about area attractions,” Lambert said, lifting her chin and holding his gaze when he glanced her way.
Wow. She lied so convincingly.
“Area attractions made her cry?” Ronan asked, letting his contempt bleed through. “Who are you looking for?”
There was a moment of silence.
“Sara,” Randolph murmured.
Lambert didn’t break eye contact with Ronan. “Elle.”
“Detective, might we have a moment alone to talk?” Randolph asked.
Lambert’s jaw tightened. “Elle,” she warned.
“Sara,” Randolph replied calmly. “Detective? Give us some privacy, please.”
He studied them, then nodded. “I’ll be right outside.”
He stepped out, closed the door, then unabashedly listened. But they were probably whispering because he couldn’t hear anything.
“Everything okay?” Judith asked from behind the front desk.
“Yes. I just want information.”
She swallowed hard. “Dianne?”
He smiled sadly. “I can’t say.”
“I understand. But…you’re on her case, right? You’ll make sure whoever did this to her gets punished?”
“I’ll give it my all,” he promised. He couldn’t guarantee anything more than that.
That and that these two bounty hunters weren’t leaving until he found out who they were searching for and why they’d chosen to talk to Dianne Foster.