Cold Case Cop. Mary Burton
my own doubts.”
Brady’s barrel chest filled with a deep breath. “You don’t want me to ride along? I could drive.”
The two men had only spoken about the shooting once. Brady had tried to show his gratitude over Kirkland saving him by way of an awkward thank-you. But Kirkland’s own guilt over not being quicker on the draw had made it impossible for him to really discuss the incident. If he’d been a second slower, those five Brady boys wouldn’t have a father. “Thanks. But I got it covered. I’ll be back by lunch.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
It took Alex thirty minutes to cut through the city traffic and reach the exclusive Founders’ Yacht Club located on Dorchester Bay. The club was one of the oldest in the state and had been a familiar spot for Kit and Pierce during their courtship.
Alex always felt as if he were stepping back in time when he drove through the club’s brick-and-iron gates. Manicured lawns and discreet hedges lined the driveway that took him to the circle in front of the club’s entrance. The two-story building was made of white marble and had large white columns. Large sections of the exterior were covered with neatly trimmed ivy.
A parking attendant glanced at Alex’s police-issue Impala as if he weren’t sure what to make of it or Alex. But then he got a look at Alex’s face and relaxed. “Mr. Kirkland. Are you going sailing today?”
“No. This is a quick trip.” Alex left the keys in the ignition and the engine running. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes, so you might not want to park it in the annex lot.”
“Right. Thanks.”
Alex made his way up the stairs until he came face-to-face with a tall bear of a man. Dressed in a dark suit, white shirt and red tie, the man stood by the front door behind the reservation table, guarding the front gate of the club like a centurion.
“Danny,” Alex said.
The man’s stern face softened the instant his gaze met Alex’s. “Mr. K. How are you doing?”
Alex liked Danny. “Good, Danny. How’s that brother of yours?”
“Staying out of trouble,” he said, lowering his voice. “Thanks for the talking-to you gave him. I can assure you that he won’t be a problem again.”
When Danny’s brother Frankie had been arrested, the doorman had called Alex in a panic. Alex had pulled the kid out of holding and then taken him for a personal tour of the jail. By the time their visit had ended, the fourteen-year-old was pale, desperate to go home and vowing never to shoplift again.
Alex shoved his hand in his pocket. “I’m glad to hear that. Is my grandmother here?”
His grandmother, Gertrude Elizabeth Kirkland, and her four oldest friends met each Monday for a very serious game of gin rummy. The ladies could afford to bet big and they always did. But no matter who won or lost, the pot always went to St. Michael’s Children’s Charities.
Danny nodded. “She and the ladies are at their regular table.”
“Thanks.”
Danny glanced at Alex’s open collar. “Excuse me, Mr. K., but you don’t have a tie.”
Alex reached for his collar. He’d taken his tie off after Mackey had left because it had suddenly felt so confining. “I left it in my desk.”
“You got to have a tie in the main room.”
“I know.” As a teenager, Alex had hated the club’s mandatory tie rule. These days, remembering those petty rebellions made him smile. “Do you have an extra one that I could borrow?”
Danny smiled as he pulled a red tie out from under his desk and handed it to Alex. “How’s that?”
“Perfect.” Alex wrapped the tie around his neck and quickly wound it into a Windsor knot.
In the main dining room, round tables covered in starched white linens hosted dozens of different people who all looked very much alike. The women wore couture and the men sported handmade suits. A deep red carpet covered wood floors, drapes framed large floor-to-ceiling glass windows and an enormous crystal chandelier hung from the center of the room. Soft piano music played in the background, melding into the polite conversations, the clink of glasses and the subtle activities of the waitstaff.
The eastern wall of the room was glass, and gave a stunning view of the bay. Blue sky and clear water set off the sails of a dozen white sailboats. When he’d been in ICU, he’d promised himself that he would sail more when he recovered. And he had. He’d spent the last two weeks on the water. The boat had been yare and the weather stunning, but he’d found that sailing alone became tedious.
Alex headed to the large table in the back of the room. It was his grandmother’s favorite table.
His grandmother had a Katharine Hepburn style that set her apart from her peers. Even at seventy-six her mind was sharp, and no one made a move at the club without her knowing it. He’d exhausted all conventional investigation methods after Kit had vanished. No tactic had revealed anything that cracked the case. Today, he thought he’d try a different approach.
Right after Kit’s disappearance, Gertie had been in France, so he’d not questioned her, but now he realized she could give him a different perspective on the case.
Gertie’s friends flanked her left and right. All wore suits in varying shades of red or blue, pearls around their necks and their white hair coiffed into tight curls.
Peering over turquoise reading glasses on her nose, Gertie frowned down at the cards in her hand. “Evelyn, I believe it’s your turn to deal.”
Evelyn, the woman to Gertie’s right, leaned forward and took the pile of cards. “This time you are not going to win.”
Gertie laughed. “We’ll see.”
Alex cleared his throat. “Gertie.”
His grandmother glanced up and immediately smiled. “Alex, what a pleasant surprise! Ladies, you remember my grandson, Detective Alex Kirkland.”
The emphasis on detective spoke to Gertie’s support of his chosen profession. She was the only one in the family who’d approved of his decision.
Alex leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. “How are you?”
Pride glinted in her eyes. “Excellent. I am winning hand over fist today.”
He smiled at the other ladies. “Watch out, ladies. She cheats.”
The women laughed. Gertie appeared offended. “Alex, I know you didn’t drive across town to question my card skills.”
“Can’t I just come to visit my grandmother?”
Gertie chuckled. “Darling, the club drives you insane. You come here only to get your boat. You never come in the main room and mingle.”
Alex no longer felt as if he fit in here. He and the club members had less and less in common as the years passed.
He pulled up a seat and sat beside her. It felt good to have the weight off his leg. A waiter appeared and offered coffee, which he accepted.
“I’m looking into a case from last year. I was hoping you and your friends might be able to help.”
Across the table, Evelyn dealt the next hand of gin rummy. “This sounds exciting. We’ll help in any way we can.”
The other women nodded.
Gertie removed her glasses. “We are all yours, my dear.”
Alex loosened his tie. “Remember Kit Westgate?”
Each woman’s face tightened, including Gertie’s. “She’s a hard woman to forget.”
“What can you tell me about her?”
Gertie traced the rim of her half-full