The Quiet Storm

Tina had never said a word. Nothing! How could she have kept it from them?

“He’s a doctor who specializes in treating hearing impairments in children,” she finally answered. “She must have been looking for a consultation for Alex. But this doesn’t make sense. I don’t believe Tina would make an appointment with Dr. Zacharias without telling her mother or me.”

“Well, Alex was her son. Maybe she didn’t feel the need to consult you about his medical care.”

Elizabeth wished she had the words to adequately convey to Beau how unsettling this discovery was. “For three years Luisa and I have been begging her to let us take Alex to Dr. Zacharias. He’s a surgeon whose clinic specializes in cochlear implants in children. It’s one of the best of its kind in the country.”

“Oh, right. I saw a documentary about those a few months ago. Isn’t that a pretty controversial procedure?”

She nodded. “Some people oppose them because they say they’re eliminating the…the culture of the deaf. Some advocates think children with hearing impairments are better off simply adjusting to their challenges, learning ASL and lip reading instead of trying to change the way God made them.”

She respected the point of view, but life experience had shaped her own strong opinions. As a person who had spent most of her life trying to make herself understood, she believed children with hearing impairments deserved the chance to communicate with the entire world, not simply others who were deaf or those who had learned ASL.

“So why didn’t Tina want you to take her kid to see this guy? Did she agree with the anti-implant sentiments?”

“No. It wasn’t anything like that. Her health insurance wasn’t the greatest. It wouldn’t cover the procedure and Tina could be…stubborn. She refused to even consider allowing me to pay for it.”

Oh, how that had hurt. By default, since he had no place else to leave it, Elizabeth’s father had bequeathed her more money than she could ever spend in a dozen lifetimes.

She had wanted so desperately to do everything she could to help Alex, but Tina had been adamant. Alex was her son and she would find a way to take care of him herself.

And yet before her death Tina had made an appointment with Dr. Zacharias without informing her or Luisa. Elizabeth couldn’t even begin to comprehend why. She hated to think this would be just another in the web of secrets Tina took with her to the grave.

“You have any idea why she would make an appointment with this doctor if she wasn’t planning on Alex having implants?”

“I don’t know.” Baffled frustration simmered through her. “Maybe she changed her mind about accepting my help. Or maybe her insurance changed its coverage policy, although I’m sure she would have told us if that were the case.”

“Maybe she found the money to pay for it somewhere else.”

“Where? With hospital costs and follow-up, a cochlear implant costs at least fifty thousand dollars. Where would she find that kind of money?”

He didn’t answer and Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath. He didn’t need to answer. She could tell exactly what he was thinking—if Tina had somehow come up with the money for Alex’s surgery, it had probably come through means either illegal or immoral.

Oh, Tina. What did you do?

“Do you know where she banks?” Beau asked gently.

She had to blink back the hot sting of tears at the compassion in his gaze. He knew how terrible this was for her, digging into all the sordid details of her friend’s life, she realized.

He knew there was a very real possibility they would find out Tina had been involved in something illegal. He probably expected it. This was the very thing Luisa feared, that any investigation would unearth information about Tina’s death—and her life—they would be better off not knowing.

For one wild, anxious second she wanted to tell Beau Riley she’d changed her mind about doing this, that she had been mistaken to pursue the investigation. How would she ever break the news to Luisa if she and Beau uncovered criminal activity by Tina beyond the substance abuse they already knew about?

She couldn’t back out now, though. She had dragged the detective into this and she had to see it through to the end, no matter what the cost. “I believe she had accounts at First Federal.”

“That’s a starting point, anyway.”

Beau fought an absolutely insane urge to place a comforting arm around her delicate shoulders, to try everything he could to take that pain from her wide, expressive eyes. How had he ever thought Elizabeth Quinn was cold and unfeeling? In just one afternoon with the woman, he was discovering she had a whole sea of emotions churning just below the surface.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll see if I can get a financial statement from them Monday when the banks reopen. And while I’m there, I can see if they know anything about this.” He pulled Tina’s key ring off the bedspread and selected the small, unusually shaped key he’d noticed earlier.

A frown appeared between her delicate brows. “What is it?”

“A key to a safe-deposit box. A First Federal safe-deposit box, if I’m not mistaken.”

“How can you possibly know that?”

“Because I’m a crack detective.” He grinned at her, wondering what it would take to get her to smile back. “Actually, because it says First Federal right there on the shaft.”

He didn’t add that his instincts still hummed at him. Whatever was inside that box had something to do with Tina Hidalgo’s death, he could feel it in his bones. Ordinary people didn’t go to all the trouble and expense to obtain safe-deposit boxes unless they possessed something significant—or secretive—they wanted to keep in a secure place.

From all he’d learned about the woman so far, Elizabeth’s stripper friend didn’t sound like the sort to keep a box full of jewels on hand.

“Will the bank let you open her safe-deposit box without some kind of…” With another of those intriguing pauses of hers, she left her sentence hovering between them while that trio of lines between her brows deepened. After a few beats she continued. “Permission. Without a…a warrant or something.”

“You’re right, ordinarily I would need a warrant to get in, something I might have a hard time finagling since I’m working this case on a purely unofficial basis. But they should let you or her mother open it in my presence if one of you is her executor.”

“I am. She named me legal guardian of Alex and executor of her will. Tina was afraid her mother would have trouble with the…the legal system because she isn’t a native English speaker. Ironic, isn’t it?” she mumbled under her breath.

“Why’s that?”

A blush colored those high-society cheekbones. “Nothing. I was thinking aloud. Sorry.”

He waited for her to say more but she closed those delectable lips, so he let the matter drop. “If you have the legal paperwork and her death certificate, you shouldn’t have any trouble getting into her box.”

“I believe she used the…downtown branch most since it was only a few blocks from her apartment. If she had a safe-deposit box anywhere, it would probably have been there.”

“Good thinking. See, your mind is already working like a detective.” He smiled at her again, and this time he was elated to see a little answering lift at the corners of her mouth. “Monday I’ll be tied up in court all morning, but I should be able to meet you around one at the bank.”

“That would be fine. I volunteer at Alex’s school in the morning. I should be done by then. Thank you.”

Uncomfortable with her gratitude, especially in light of his less-than-enthusiastic attitude toward the whole case, he shrugged. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You’re here. You listened to me.”

The soft words shouldn’t have affected him so much, but he had to again fight the urge to comfort her, to pat that silky Grace Kelly hair and pull her close and hold her until the pain left those blue eyes.

He blew out a breath and shoved the impulse away. He had to get away from her before he did something completely insane. “I think I’m done here. We’ve looked through all her belongings, right?”

“Yes. This is everything from Tina’s apartment. Luisa might have some older things stored in the attic. I can ask her.”

“Maybe eventually, but I have a feeling we’re on the right track here.” He paused, compelled to honesty. He couldn’t let her get her hopes up because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to sit by and watch those hopes dashed against the rocks of hard reality. As he knew all too well, sometimes bitter truth was far more difficult to live with than a comfortable lie.

“You realize this may all be for nothing, right? No matter how badly you might wish otherwise, there’s a chance your friend’s death was exactly as it appeared to the other detectives.”

She was quiet for a moment and she looked fragile and a little lost as she gazed at the pitiful pile of belongings scattered around them. “I know. If all we find are…are dead ends, at least I’ll know I tried. I can live with that as long as I know I did everything I could.”

He hoped for her sake that would be enough. He rose, more to put distance between them than anything else. “I’d like to take her address book and her date book with me if you don’t mind so I can start running interviews with anybody who might have seen her in the days before she died.”