Bonaparte's Belle Read online

  “And that would be your argument, right?” Angela asked. “If anybody questioned it, it was on one of his lucid days.”

  She nodded slowly. “And remember at that time we didn’t know how bad his mental state was failing. He had many lucid days,” she said, “but he wasn’t really capable of signing very well, so we just helped him.”

  “And did you talk to him about it?”

  “Yes, and he was excited.”

  “So why did you feel like it was illegal?”

  “Because he was only lucid for a little bit,” she said, “and we didn’t get the signatures done in time, so we had to give him a little help. So, of course, we felt guilty,” she said, “because it wasn’t quite kosher. But really it was.”

  And then Angela just nodded, as if she weren’t quite sure what to think about it. And Bonaparte understood. These things were delicate at the best of times. And was there ever a clear-cut case in an instance like this? “Anybody else see you or know about it?”

  “We didn’t think so,” she said. “We were alone in Granddad’s room in the nursing home, so either the buyer guessed, or we let on, or we somehow … I don’t know,” she said in exasperation. “I really don’t know.”

  “How long ago was the sale?”

  “About four months,” she said.

  “And what did you do with the money?”

  “It’s in the bank, paying for my mom’s cancer treatments and Granddad’s care.”

  “Right,” Bonaparte said. “So, even if he were cognizant and aware, he would have been okay with that, right?”

  “Exactly,” she said with relief. “It’s exactly what he would have wanted. We were all very close, weren’t we?” She turned to face Angela, who nodded slowly.

  “Yes,” Angela said. “If he were cognizant, he would have definitely signed to help get the money to help your mom. And, like you said, it was for sale for months.”

  “Why do you think nobody would buy it?” Bonaparte immediately interrupted.

  “I suspect,” Isabel said, “the price we were asking was just too high.”

  “That’s possible. And this guy paid full price?”

  She winced. “No. It started off that way, but then, before we got to the end of the purchase, he had been dropping the offer. By the time we got to closing the deal, it was quite a bit less than if we had sold to James. So that was something that made us really angry, but, because he more or less had us behind the eight ball, there wasn’t anything we could do about it.”

  “Which is why they did it that way,” he said, with a nod. “Okay, you need to let us know the next time you feel scared or see that vehicle drive slowly by. What kind of vehicle was it?”

  “He’s got a muscle car,” she said. “You know? One of those things with that raised piece in the front that sounds really loud and dangerous.”

  He nodded. “Black, I presume?”

  She snorted. “Of course, shiny with lots of chrome. How did you know?”

  He shrugged and said, “It’s fairly typical.”

  “Wow, so anytime I see one of those vehicles when I’m in the city, I’ll think they’re all assholes.”

  “No, that’s not quite fair,” he said, with a smile. “But you’d be amazed at how many of these guys drive vehicles like that because they think it makes them look dangerous.”

  “Well, these guys are dangerous,” she said suddenly. “He didn’t come right out and say that we would pay, but it was implied that, if we told anybody about the pressure they’d put on us …” And then she stopped and said, “You know what? It wasn’t even that. It was all just impressions. It was all just that sense that we were in deep trouble and that they knew something about us and that we would go to jail for it. They didn’t really do anything wrong, but then neither did we. It’s like the whole deal was in the shadows. I couldn’t believe just how grateful I was when it was done, and they actually paid.”

  “Well, they have lots of money,” Angela said, “so it makes sense that they would pay. If nothing else it gives them more power again for having done so.”

  Isabel shrugged. “I don’t get how any of that works,” she said, with a shiver. “We’re just simple folk here.”

  “Simple folk maybe,” Bonaparte said quietly, “but that doesn’t mean you’re stupid. You knew exactly what was going on. Otherwise you wouldn’t feel guilty now, and they wouldn’t have been able to pressure you into it being afraid every time you see them.”

  “Right,” she said, “well, I’m wholeheartedly admitting to knowing about it.”

  “And you don’t have any compunction about your granddad having a problem with it?”

  “No,” she said. “When we told him that we had a buyer, he was over the moon. He’d been really worried about Mom’s care. He wanted to sell right away.”

  “Good enough,” he said. He turned to look at Angela. “Anywhere else you want to go?”

  She turned and looked at her friend, gave her a hug, and said, “We’ll talk later.” Then she walked out. As they got back to the truck, she asked, “Do you believe her?”

  He looked at her sharply. “You don’t?”

  “I do,” she said, “but something was in her tone.”

  “Outside of the fact that she’s afraid she’ll get thrown in jail or the fact that she’ll lose her friend, who is even now looking at her as if she might be a criminal?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s a big part of it, isn’t it?”

  “Whenever somebody fesses up to a crime like that,” he said, “even if it feels justified at the time, they know it’s wrong, so they’re always looking over their shoulders. And some guys like this, they’re just predators. Predators in the business world,” he said. “They could have made them do anything. It wouldn’t even have taken much. Even now that leverage is a perfect blackmail tool.”

  “Sounds like they did,” she said, with a heavy heart. “Now Isabel’s always got that fear going on.”

  “Absolutely,” he said, “and that’ll make it tougher for her as well.”

  “She’s a really nice person,” she said, “and everything she’s doing would be entirely to save her mom.”

  “I get it,” he said. “Really. Don’t worry. I do get it.”

  She smiled, nodded, and said, “I’m glad. Because she’s good people.”

  “Isabel might be, but even good people do wrong.”

  Angela groaned. “I know. I know. I know.”

  And, with that, he had to be satisfied.

  Chapter 3

  “Now where?” Angela asked, as he drove the truck back the way they had come.

  Bonaparte looked at the clock on the dashboard and said, “I’m hungry.”

  “And where will you stay?” she asked, with a tilt to her lips.

  “I’m staying at your place,” he said immediately.

  She stared at him in shock. “You don’t even wait for an invitation?” she asked in a droll tone.

  “Nope,” he said, “too many undercurrents going on here. The sooner they figure out where I’m staying, the better, and then we can assess your property too, from a defensive standpoint.”

  “Sometimes I think I’m making too big of a deal out of this.”

  “You’re not,” he replied.

  “But you don’t know that for sure,” she said. He looked over at her, and she went quiet. “Okay, I wish I’d known about what had happened to Isabel.”

  “She couldn’t tell you. She didn’t dare tell you,” he said, “because, even now, she’s afraid you’ll arrest her.”

  “And yet, in theory, if it was her mom’s idea, it’s her mom who should be arrested.”

  “Sure, except that she also hid the truth from you.”

  “I know. But there wasn’t an investigation, so it’s not like she lied to me.”

  “Nope, so she’s free and clear.”

  She sighed. “It still feels odd.”

  “The joys of being in law enforcement and h
aving a lot of friends you care about, and, in this case, they were pressured to do something because of the circumstances, so you’ll have to figure out how you feel about it.”

  “But this is where right becomes cloudy.”

  “Nope, not at all,” he said. “You just have to sit down and think it through. And, if you need to talk to somebody, there are people you can talk to.”

  “Yes,” she said, “I do have someone. I can talk to the prosecutor.”

  “I can tell you that he’ll say there’s no case.”

  “Which would be fine because, if I know that ahead of time,” she said, “I don’t have to feel guilty about it.”

  He smiled. “And you can let Isabel know that she’s off the hook.”

  “Right,” she said, with a sigh, “because that is something she won’t rest about now, will she?”

  “Would you?”

  “No,” she said, with a laugh. “I wouldn’t.”

  “See? So it’s pretty easy to figure out.”

  “Right and wrong is not always that clear,” she said.

  “No, sometimes it takes a little bit to work your way through, but it becomes clear eventually. So, where to?”

  She looked at him in confusion.

  “Do you have groceries?” he asked. “Or do we need to go out for dinner or stop at the store?”

  She laughed. “So now you’re inviting yourself for dinner too.”

  “Well, I figured, if I offered to take you out for dinner, you’d likely get mad at me.”

  “Why would I do that?” she asked in astonishment.

  “Well, opening the door was a strange thing for you. You are an officer of the law, so I don’t want to make it sound like I’m compelling you to do something or that I’m disrespecting your office,” he said, with a knowing smile. “But I’d really like to take you out for a good steak.”

  Her eyes widened. “A good steak would be perfect,” she said. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  “So where am I headed then?” he asked.

  She smiled and said, “Away from here and back into town.”

  “If you say so,” he said. “Is it nice and public?”

  “Yes, of course it is,” she said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

  “Nothing,” he said. “I just want to make sure it’s really public.”

  She groaned. “You want to make sure everybody thinks that the pretty little sheriff has a partner, is that it?”

  “No, not at all,” he said. “I want everybody to know that the sheriff has a deputy,” he said. “One who’s not afraid to back his boss up.”

  She looked at him, smiled, and said, “You know what? That just might work.”

  “Doesn’t matter if you’re female or not, by the way,” he said. “I’d step up for the side of right any time, any day, any place, anyhow.”

  She chuckled. “There’s a lot to be said for that.”

  “There is,” he said. “It makes it all nice and clear. So where’s the steakhouse because I’m getting really hungry now.”

  Still laughing, she directed him to the one on Main Street. “That should be public enough for you,” she said.

  “Good,” he said. “Let everybody know, right off the bat, that you are no longer alone and that somebody around here has your back.”

  “I can get behind that,” she said quietly, as he parked the truck. She looked around and smiled because, even now, people were studying the strange truck. “Don’t look now,” she said, “but we’re already attracting attention.”

  “Good. The more, the better.”

  *

  Bonaparte parked, shut off the engine, then looked at Angela and grinned. “Let’s go, boss.”

  Still laughing, she hopped out and led the way to the front of the restaurant. She didn’t even think about it, but he was that half step ahead of her and pulled open the door.

  “Will you do that all the time? That’ll take a lot out of you after a while.”

  “Takes nothing out of me to be nice or gentlemanly or polite,” he said. “My mother raised me with manners, and I certainly don’t intend to lose them just because I’m ready to take on the world.”

  She stepped in front of him and sighed happily at the cool air-conditioning that wafted toward her. “You don’t realize how hot it is,” she murmured, “until you step inside.”

  “That’s when you realize just how much people are dependent on AC,” he said. “Nothing wrong with a good hot day.”

  “Well, there’s hot, and then there’s hot-hot,” she said. “I’m okay with hot, but I really don’t like superhot.”

  “I’m with you there,” he said. “Do you have any decent creeks around this place for swimming?”

  “There’s a couple,” she said in surprise, looking at him. “And I do have a pool at my place.” At that, his eyes widened in joy. He grinned at her. “All the more reason.”

  “Good evening, Sheriff,” one of the young waitresses said, as she walked toward them. “Are you here for dinner?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m taking my new deputy out for his first meal here in town,” she said smoothly.

  He had to laugh at her maneuvering because essentially she had just said that he couldn’t pay for her dinner either. Still chuckling to himself, he followed her and the waitress to a booth in the center of the restaurant. It was an interesting location because it put them right in the hot seat. But he knew they had everybody’s attention regardless.

  He was more or less used to getting attention wherever he went because of his size, and he imagined she was too, but together they made quite a sight. He was all for it. The problem with dating tiny women was that it always felt like they were little china dolls, and he could break them. Now this one, Angela, she looked like somebody who could hold her own. Of course they were garnering quite a bit of attention.

  He let his gaze move around the room, slowly and carefully, noting the various levels of attention and opinionated looks they were getting. A couple on the side immediately looked away when Bonaparte caught their gaze. Several suited men looked like they were having a business dinner, yet they were more interested and curious than most in the restaurant. Bonaparte’s gaze next landed on two local guys, both wearing hats, who would never be welcome in terms of any big city restaurant. And they were hiding behind them at the same time. He noted their other features to ask Angela about when they got a moment. At another booth farther down, somebody sat aloof and alone. And yet the waitresses were running around him, as if he were somebody.

  As soon as they were seated, and Angela had smiled and thanked the waitress, Angela then said, “Holly, could you bring coffee right away, please?”

  Holly just smiled and said, “Sure thing,” and she took off. Bonaparte pointed out the ones he had noticed in particular. She nodded and said, “The two men in the hats are Leroy and Leonard.”

  “Isn’t that cliché?” he said.

  “Their mama would never let them come in here with a hat on, so, the minute she was dead, they refused to take them off,” she said. “In all fairness, they aren’t 100 percent all there mentally. They have some disability, but I don’t know that she ever got them tested.”

  He nodded. “So, in other words, we’re just dealing with teenage rebellion in adult bodies.”

  “In forty-year-old men, yeah,” she said, with an understanding smile.

  “And the other one?” he asked, nodding to the man at the back.

  She twisted and took one look, slowly reversing, until she faced Bonaparte again. In a lowered voice, she said, “That’s Ronnie, one of our troublemakers. His brother is Johnny.”

  Bonaparte looked at her in surprise and studied the man. “He’s older than I thought.”

  “He looks older, yes,” she said. “My understanding is that he’s just turned thirty-eight.”

  “Interesting. I was thinking early thirties,” he murmured. It was hard to get a fix on him, but the way everybody was acting sa
id a lot. “He really thinks he’s somebody, doesn’t he?”

  “News flash,” she said, her lips twitching. “He is somebody.”

  “So are we,” he said.

  “Hey, I got some service when I walked in,” she said. “I wasn’t sure I’d even get that.”

  He looked at her in surprise. “Would they be so blatant?”

  “It’s hard to say,” she said. “Just when you think you know what’s going on around here, you don’t.”

  “Understood,” he murmured. He picked up the menu in front of him and asked, “What’s good?”

  “Pretty much everything,” she said, “but I really like the ribs.”

  “Ribs are good,” he said, with a nod. “Steak is what I’m after.”

  “So is the steak,” she said.

  By the time Holly came back with the coffee, they were ready with their order. Holly wrote it down quickly and left.

  “She looks like she’s in a hurry.”

  “Whether that’s because it’s busy,” Angela said, “or because her bosses rattled her about us, I don’t know.”

  “You wouldn’t expect it to be quite so overt,” he murmured.

  “I know. It’s been getting worse over time,” she said, her voice equally quiet. “And I can’t blame them. Everybody is rattled and wondering where things will go from here.”

  “Of course,” he murmured. “There’s that sense of waiting, isn’t there?”

  “Yes, there is, and it’s pretty unnerving.”

  “Does it bother you?”

  “Well, it’s like when the weather is building up, and you know it’s about to break, but it hasn’t yet, so you’re hot and muggy and feeling sticky and just wishing it would happen, so you could get on with life.”

  “Right, but these kinds of storms have a tendency to not be something that you actually get over,” he murmured. They kept their conversation low, as they discussed various people who had interested him in the room. They were still the center of attention, as everybody turned to look and then would look away, as soon as he caught their gaze.

  “But nobody is being overtly unfriendly,” he said, “nor have they been overtly friendly.”