Dying to Kill (Angel Delaney Mysteries Book #2) by Patricia H. Rushford

and went on. “Of course, they’ll give her a polygraph—he offered her that much, and that will show she’s telling the truth.”
    “Hopefully,” Angel murmured.
    Brian raced back inside, grabbed his lunch from the kitchen counter, and hurried to the door. “Can I start the car for you?” he asked Angel.
    “No.”
    He shrugged and headed outside again at the same time the girls emerged from the bathroom. “Dorothy wanted me to braid her hair,” Gracie said. “That’s what took so long.”
    “Looks nice.” Angel eyed the two evenly spaced French braids.
    Before going to the car, Dorothy, still clutching her teddy bear, gave Anna a hug then placed the bear on Frank’s lap. Frank patted her small hand, and Angel saw the makings of a smile.
    Tears clouded her own vision as she waved at her parents and followed the children outside. Oh Dad, why can’t you look at me like that?

TWELVE
     

     
    A ngel dropped Brian and Dorothy off at Beachwood Elementary School, then proceeded to Sunset Cove High School, which was on the other side of town. Tension emanated from both occupants, with Angel wanting to ask Gracie more questions and Gracie staring out the passenger side window, apparently not wanting to talk at all. Gracie wore little if any makeup, Angel noticed. Not that she needed it. She had pink cheeks and full lashes. She wore her blonde hair swept up in a ponytail, which she’d curled around and pinned in a haphazard bun.
    “Do you enjoy cheerleading?”
    “Yeah.” She turned to Angel and offered a genuine smile. “I want to go to nationals and maybe to cheerleading camp this summer.”
    “Sounds like fun.”
    “It will be now that he’s gone,” Gracie said.
    “Meaning that he wouldn’t have let you go?” Angel finished the thought and apparently guessed correctly.
    “He didn’t like us to be away from home.” Gracie pinched her lips together.
    “Did he tell you that you couldn’t go?” Angel asked.
    “Yes, but Mom was going to talk to him about it.”
    Angel couldn’t help but wonder just how much of a rift there was between father and daughter. “Bet that made you mad—that he said you couldn’t go.”
    Gracie leveled a critical gaze on Angel. “He always said no. No matter what I wanted to do. The answer was always no.”
    “Must have been hard.” Gracie certainly had motive to kill Phillip, but was the anger she obviously felt for him intense enough for her to act on it?
    “I’m going to see your mother after I drop you off,” Angel said after several minutes of silence.
    Gracie nodded. “I know. Mrs. Delaney told us you would.”
    “I didn’t mean to embarrass you back at the house. Or accuse you.”
    “You mean when you asked if I’d gone home yesterday afternoon?”
    “Right. I’d like to help your mom, but I need a better picture of what went on during the hours or days before your dad was killed.”
    “Phillip was not my dad.” Gracie’s tone was bitter and terse.
    Angel tightened her grip on the steering wheel. “Oh . . . um, I didn’t know. The way your mother talked, I just assumed . . .”
    “She divorced my real father when I was five. He didn’t want her to. My dad is a great guy. He lives in California, and I’m thinking about moving there. I stayed with him last summer. He’s a set designer for a movie studio. He’s married and has a couple little kids.” Gracie turned away; the sadness in her eyes didn’t match the praise in her words, leaving Angel to wonder just how great a guy her real father was.
    “Should I contact him?”
    “What? . . . Um, no. I’ll call him later.”
    Angel had barely come to a stop when Gracie unbuckled her seat belt and pushed open the door. She scooted out, but before closing the door, she leaned back in. “My mother didn’t kill Phillip. She wouldn’t do that. She loved him, and besides, she wouldn’t have the guts.”
    But you do? Angel leaned toward Gracie. “I hope you’re right. But for what