Chapter 18
“Go ahead,” Blair replied. “I don’t have anything to hide.”
The bikini didn’t hide much, so I knew she wasn’t concealing the murder weapon on her person.
Blair stepped aside, and we entered the unit. Like a lot of units in the building, it had a central living room, an open-concept kitchen, and two bedrooms—one on either side.
“Nice place,” I said, taking in the sleek leather furniture, the abstract art, and the spacious terrace with lounge chairs where she’d been baking in the sun.
“It will do, for now.” She definitely had her sights set on something bigger.
JD and I began to search the place.
“What exactly are you looking for?”
“The murder weapon.”
Blair shot me an incredulous look. “Really? You seriously think I killed her?”
I shrugged. “Somebody did.”
“If I did kill her, I wouldn’t keep the murder weapon around. That’s for sure. Do I look stupid?”
I didn’t answer.
JD and I rummaged through the kitchen and found several knives that fit the bill, but none had any visual traces of blood.
Blair returned to the terrace and continued to sun herself and sip on a margarita while we searched the unit.
We checked her bedroom and her closet, looking for clothes with blood stains, shoes with speckles of crimson, or tread patterns that matched the partial prints we’d gotten from the kitchen tile.
The lab was still trying to narrow down the make and model of the shoes.
There were two distinct sets of prints, apart from the kid’s shoes.
The forensic team estimated the adult shoes as a man’s 10 or 11 and a woman’s 7 or 8.
The majority of shoes in Blair’s closet were size 7.5.
We found nothing incriminating in Blair’s apartment, but I couldn’t rule her out based on shoe size.
Before we left, I gave Blair a card on the terrace and told her to get in touch if she thought of anything that might be helpful.
"You come here, search my house, accuse me of murder, and you think I'm going to help you? If you find out who killed her, let me know. I'll buy them a drink. They did the world a favor.”
There was no question where Blair stood on the matter.
JD and I left and strolled the hallway back toward the elevator. Blair wasn’t my prime suspect, but if she did kill Hannah, I don't think she would have been so brazen about her disdain.
"She's out of her mind if she thinks her fiancé isn’t going to find out," Jack said.
"Trust me, he already knows. He either doesn't mind, or he's in denial.”
We took the elevator down to the main lobby, and the valet pulled the car around. We hopped in and headed across the island to catch up with Loretta Montgomery. She worked as a receptionist at a construction company.
Jack and I drove up to Rock Island and pulled into the gravel lot of the freestanding steel building that had a blue awning.
The place was surrounded by a chain-link fence topped with razor wire.
A few work trucks were parked in the lot, dusty and covered with grime.
There was a small concrete mixer and a generator on a trailer.
A couple flatbed trucks for hauling lumber and other items were parked in the lot.
We hopped out and walked into the small lobby that had a few chairs, a reception desk, and a plastic plant in the corner for ambiance.
Loretta sat behind the desk and greeted us with a smile as we stepped inside. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. How can I help you?"
I flashed my badge and leaned against the counter. "How's your day going?"
"It was going pretty good until you showed up. Something tells me it might take a turn."
I chuckled. "Now, why would you think that?"
"I don't know. You two look like trouble.”
I laughed again.
JD pointed a thumb at me. "He's a troublemaker."
I looked at him like he was crazy.
"What can I do for you, gentlemen?"
"I'm sure you're aware, but Hannah Quinn was murdered last night.”
A look of disdain curled her lips. "I heard something about that, but if you're looking for sympathy, you're not going to find it here."
"I didn't think we would.”
"I'm gonna save you some time and trouble. I didn't kill her. Though I sure thought about it a few times.”
"Care to tell me where you were between 9 and 11:00 PM last night?”
"I was at home." Her brow crinkled with concern. "Do I need an attorney?”
"Just standard questions, ma'am."
She scowled at me. "Standard, my ass. I'm a suspect because of our history.”
"I'm pretty familiar with your history, but I'd like to hear your version of it.”
She hesitated a moment, then exhaled. "That woman killed my daughter.
She wasn't paying attention, and now my daughter is dead.
There's no way to bring her back. And apparently, there is no way to get justice.
Maybe karma finally decided to serve justice.
But you know what, knowing she's dead doesn't really make me feel any better. It doesn't bring my daughter back.”
"Sounds like you’ve got quite the motive."
"I'm not going to deny that. But I'm sure I'm not the only one that had it in for Hannah Quinn. I got the impression that she wasn't well-liked in the community.”
“Can anybody verify your whereabouts last night?”
“Well, I live with my turtles and my cats. Unless you can get something out of them, you’re gonna have to take my word for it.”
"When was the last time you had any contact with Hannah?”
"I don't think I’ve had any direct contact with her in a number of years.
Not since the civil suit was dismissed, and then I only communicated with her through the attorneys.
It wasn't about the money. No amount of money would bring my daughter back. I just wanted vindication in a court of law. I wanted someone else to know that she was guilty. She was distracted. I lost two people I loved that day. Frank never recovered after that. He drank himself to death.” Loretta shook her head.
"That woman destroyed my life. So, forgive me gentlemen, but you're not going to get any tears here.”
The phone rang.
“Coconut Construction and Remodeling, how can I help you?” she said in a cordial tone. "One moment, please." She pressed a button, putting the caller on hold, then addressed us. "As you can see, gentlemen, I need to get back to work. If you have any more questions, get in touch with my attorney.”
“What size shoe do you wear?”
She stared at me and said nothing.
I dug into my pocket and left my card on the counter with a smile.
We left her reception area and walked back to the Porsche.
Jack muttered, "Does she look like a killer to you?”
"She looks like a sweet lady who lost everything," I said. "I'm not ruling her out.”
We climbed into the Porsche and drove to the warehouse district. It was almost time for band practice. One last session to tighten the set before the big Halloween show.
We rocked it out, then Jack treated the guys to dinner.
The usual mischief ensued on Oyster Avenue afterward.
As we drew closer to the big day, more and more revelers paraded around in costume.
Some were pretty creative—aliens, zombies, knights in shining armor.
Of course, there was an uptick in werewolf costumes with the recent media circus.
Most of them were pretty bad—dudes in cheap latex wolf masks with synthetic hair and snarling snouts.
It was around 10:30 PM when the sheriff called with more bad news.