Hidden Deception. Leann Harris
before she could say anything, her stomach rumbled. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment.
Daniel’s mouth curved with amusement.
“I haven’t had breakfast,” she mumbled. “I was going to stop by Juan’s before I went to the store.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Her brows knitted into a frown. “I beg your pardon?”
“Let’s go to Juan’s. Over some burritos, we can go over your statement.”
“Huh—” Her stomach rumbled again.
His gaze captured hers.
“Okay,” she agreed.
Daniel went back to his desk, picked up her keys and handed them to her. He put his notebook in his shirt pocket, grabbed his corduroy jacket and slipped it on.
Rodriguez sat back in his chair. “Hey, when you’re at Juan’s, buy me a number one and have him send it over.” He pulled several bills from his wallet and handed them to Daniel.
Elena noticed the silent message the two men exchanged and wondered what it was about. Once outside in the morning air, Elena glanced at Daniel.
“Am I about to get the third degree?” she asked.
“No. What makes you think that?”
“All the silent messages you and your partner exchanged.”
“You’re imagining things.”
She didn’t believe him and prepared herself for the grilling.
The wonderful smell of coffee and refried beans surrounded her as they stepped into the restaurant, making her worries disappear. Whatever the detective had in mind, she could handle it after a cup of coffee and something to eat.
She ordered and found a booth in the corner away from the noise and chatter of the restaurant. Daniel ordered his breakfast and Rodriguez’s. After paying for them, he joined her.
“Have you remembered anything else about Joyce that you didn’t tell me last night?” he asked.
“I’ve tried not to think, to put everything out of my mind.” She concentrated on her burrito.
He took a bite of his breakfast. “How long did Joyce work at your store?” he questioned.
“She worked for my parents for the last five years.” When he gave her a look, she explained, “I was in college at UNM, studying art. When I came home one Christmas, Joyce was working at the store. I knew her casually, but if you want more information on her, talk to my mother. Mom worked with Joyce every day for the last five years. I worked holidays and some summers when I came home. Once in New York, I rarely saw Joyce.”
“But you’ve been here in Santa Fe for the last six months?”
Elena frowned at him. If he knew the answer, why ask the question? Maybe he was testing her. “My father passed away at the beginning of March. Mother wasn’t able to handle the business, so I quit my job in New York and came home.” She didn’t want to discuss the grief that put her mother in bed or how in order to keep things running, she’d come home. Her adopted older brother lived in Seattle with his family. Of the two of them, she was more able to come and help their mother.
He took out his notebook and scribbled something down. “So you aren’t familiar with Joyce?”
She frowned at him. “No. She was a wonderful employee, always on time, reliable, helpful to my parents. Since I’ve been home, I can’t name any problems with her.” Of course, Elena had been worried about Joyce.
“What are you not telling me?”
Her head jerked up. “What makes you think—”
He gave her a pointed stare. “I’m a trained investigator.”
Elena shrugged. “As I told you last night, Joyce seemed to be preoccupied over the last couple of weeks.”
“Tell me about it.”
Elena tried to come up with exact instances. “One time she put the special orders in the wastepaper basket. Another time, she forgot to put a large check in the cash register. And another time, she came to work without her purse. She had to drive home and get it. That wasn’t like her. When I asked her what was wrong, she told me she just had an off day. It wasn’t an off day, but an off week. But I didn’t press her. We all screw up.”
As he jotted notes in a small spiral, the clatter of silverware and dishes filled the air. Elena tried to peek at what he wrote, but his head came up, and she smiled and settled back into her seat.
“And you never knew anything about her personal life?” he pressed.
Something was going on here. “No, I didn’t, but I’ve got a feeling that you know something I don’t.”
He leaned back against his chair. “Did you know that Joyce had a criminal record?”
TWO
She looked stunned. “No.”
“Hey, Stillwater.” Jeff Muller, a patrolman and fellow soccer dad, walked up to the table. He nodded toward Elena. “You going to the girls’ soccer game this afternoon?”
His daughter, April, and Jeff’s daughter, Melissa, played on the same soccer team, the Red Peppers. They were 9-1 for the season. This was their final game. “I wouldn’t miss it, Jeff. Has your daughter’s injury healed?”
“Yeah. She’s only got a few scabs left, but she’s ready to play.”
“I’ll see you at the field at five.”
Jeff nodded and walked off.
When Daniel looked back at Elena, he saw her struggling with the information he’d just dropped about Joyce. She was either a good actress or the info came as a total shock. His heart wanted to believe it was surprise, but his brain argued she could be acting.
Of course, he was fighting an unseen enemy—attraction.
She was the first woman who’d grabbed his attention since his wife’s death. He’d found himself looking forward to seeing her today. Of course his reaction could be a combination of tiredness and hunger.
Liar, a voice in his head whispered.
“Are you sure you have the right woman?” she carefully asked.
They’d taken the dead woman’s prints and run them through their AFIS computer system. Joyce Murphy’s name and mug shot had popped up. “I’m sure. She’d been convicted of passing counterfeit money.”
Elena’s mouth fell open.
“So my news comes as a big surprise,” he continued.
That jerked her out of her fog.
“Of course.” She shook her head. “I never knew. She was a trusted employee. I’m sure my parents didn’t know about her past. She was the only employee my parents had over the past few years, with the exception of my brother, Adrian, and me. Joyce was there for my mom when Dad had his heart attack and has helped since his death.”
Elena’s impression of Joyce didn’t sound as though she continued her criminal ways. “Did your parents ever mention a concern about Joyce?”
“They never said anything to me. You could call my brother in Seattle to see if they mentioned anything to him. Of course, he left home before I did.”
Elena’s phone rang. She dug around in her purse and grabbed it. “Hi, Mom. No, I’m with Detective Stillwater.” She looked up at him. “Did you know that Joyce had a criminal record?”
He watched her face as she listened to the answer.
“You did, but I don’t—” Her hand curled into a