Chapter Two #2
Humiliation joined the other emotions swarming inside her.
As a teenager, she had made a terrible mistake.
She’d hurt and disappointed her parents, and she’d been dragged into a long and painful criminal investigation because she had been an immature and foolish girl who acted on impulse and emotion rather than logic and intelligence.
Her senior year of high school was not her best by any stretch of the imagination.
For the entire rest of her academic days, from kindergarten on, she had been a model student—one who made the very best grades and good choices.
But it was that one lone, final year of high school—actually, the last few weeks—for which everyone in her small hometown would remember her. How sad was that?
Lambert nodded. “That’s basically what Detective Hawkins said,” he admitted. “But you can see how learning this information would give me pause under the circumstances.”
She nodded, uncertain of her voice at the moment.
“The circumstances are oddly similar. Don’t you agree?”
“Actually, I don’t.” She managed a tight swallow to dampen her dry throat. “I did not see whatever happened to Chris occur, and it was fairly clear to all who knew him why he vanished. At least, as clear as an unsolved disappearance can be. But this is not the same at all.”
When he made no comment, she kept going. “Obviously, you don’t believe me when I say I saw Raymond on that floor. His eyes were open and unblinking. Blood was leaking down the side of his head.” She gestured to her left temple. “From where I was standing, he looked dead or…maybe unconscious.”
Lambert took a long, deep breath, then released it.
“I’m supposed to believe that in the twenty-odd minutes between the time you witnessed his body on the floor and being moved until the first on the scene arrived, someone removed the body from the building and cleaned up any evidence a crime had taken place in that kitchen? ”
His doubts were undeniably justified…but she was telling the truth. “It’s the only explanation because I know what I saw.”
Lambert uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, braced his forearms on his knees. “Did you know that Mr. Douglas carried a ten-million-dollar life insurance policy?”
Leah made a face. “Why would I know that? We’d only ever met once.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe this.”
The detective turned up his hands. “It was necessary to ask. Just another worrisome detail to clear up.”
“Then the beneficiary on the policy should give you a starting place on who might have reason to want him dead,” she suggested.
This man was a seasoned detective. She had done a little research on him too.
He was good. His name or face was, it seemed, always in the news for solving some case or another.
Unquestionably, he was well-versed in how to conduct a criminal investigation.
She suspected he only wanted her reaction to the question.
Evidently, unsettling the witness was part of his strategy.
“His ex-wife is one of the beneficiaries,” Lambert said. “But she has an airtight alibi—she and her two teenage children spent the weekend with her mother.”
Leah lifted her chin in defiance of the statement.
“Maybe she hired someone to do it. Based on how quickly everything happened that night, it certainly gave the appearance of a professional job. A well-planned one, obviously.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could take them back.
Knowledge of that sort of thing was not a good look on a suspect.
But she was only guilty of watching too much crime TV.
And, admittedly, mystery novels were her favorite.
He nodded. “It does.”
To her surprise, it practically sounded like he believed her.
Leah had told herself not to forget to ask this next question, but she almost had.
“What about cameras? Were there no cameras in the alley, or anywhere around the building, that showed the comings and goings at the rear exit of the restaurant?” She found it difficult to believe there weren’t, but there had been no mention so far.
“Only one, and it wasn’t working at the time.”
She should have seen that one coming. “So, what now? Do you have other suspects, or are you determined to try and pin this on me, because I can tell you—” her voice rose with each word “—I did not have anything to do with this. I didn’t even know the man.”
“Well.” He stood. “I’m sure I will have more questions.”
Leah stood, too, her knees a little weak. Why couldn’t he just give her an answer? Was she still a suspect, given what he’d learned about the insurance policy?
“Did you speak to Isla?”
“Unfortunately, I have not been able to reach her.”
Frustration wove its way through Leah, but she wasn’t surprised. When Isla was at work at the ER, she oftentimes left her cell phone in her locker. If she was in class, she had no doubt turned it off. Still, she usually returned calls. A new thread of uneasiness trickled through Leah.
“I hope you will contact me if you recall anything else I might need to know.”
She followed him to the door, the urge to shake him and somehow make him understand that she was innocent in this a pulsing urge in her body.
Lambert hesitated at the door. “Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?”
She thought of the car. “Yes.” She moistened her lips. “There’s been a black sedan across the street since last night. There’s a man—I think it’s a man—inside. I feel like he might be watching me” She shrugged. “I can’t help wondering if perhaps I’m in danger.”
Concern or something like it materialized in his expression. “Show me the car you mean.”
She led the way back to the window and surveyed the street. Frustration sagged her shoulders. The car was gone. “I guess he left.”
“Perhaps it was one of ours,” he suggested.
“We had someone keeping an eye on your apartment the first eight or so hours after you left the restaurant, but not since. It’s not impossible there was a miscommunication on the time frame.
Still, if you notice anything that makes you feel threatened, call me.
” He hesitated. “You make a good point about the wife maybe hiring someone to get rid of her husband.”
Hope dared to sprout. “Yes,” she said with a nod. “It happens in the movies all the time.”
“Maybe she hired you to play the part of witness to his murder.”
Her jaw dropped, but any potential rebuttal flew out of her head.
With that blatant accusation, he walked away. This time when he reached the door, he opened it and left, calling out a good day over his shoulder.
She hurried across the room, locked the door and sagged against it.
She was in serious trouble here. Somehow she had believed this would sort itself out, but that wasn’t happening.
At this point, she would be a real fool not to recognize it was only getting worse.
What she needed was an attorney. No, Leah decided…
What she needed was someone who could help her figure this out.
Maybe even help her find the person responsible for this nightmare.
A private investigator. A good one. A really, really good one.
The Colby Agency, 2:00 p.m.
“MS. GERARD.”
Leah jerked to attention. She’d been a million miles away. “Yes.” She stood and produced a smile for the young woman who had called her name. Blond hair, blue eyes, very well put together. Professional pale blue suit.
“I’m Jamie Colby.” She extended her hand.
Leah shook her hand, then suffered a fleeting doubt considering how very young the woman appeared to be. Maybe she was an assistant? “Thank you for making time to see me.” Leah was so, so grateful to be able to get an appointment today—even if only with an assistant.
“Of course.” Jamie gestured to the corridor beyond the lobby. “Walk with me to my office, and we’ll figure this out.”
Leah strode alongside the other woman as she led the way down a carpeted corridor flanked by doors on either side.
The decor was surprisingly elegant—more so than Leah had expected, even though the agency was listed as the top in the business.
Somehow the idea of a PI always made her think of shabby offices on the seedy side of town.
This was a seriously upscale area and a prestigious building.
Jamie’s office was spacious and filled with light. A large window looked out over the street. Maybe not an assistant. The realization that her last name was Colby struck Leah just then. Probably…definitely not an assistant.
After the offer of refreshments, they settled at a small conference table on one side of the well-appointed room.
“You mentioned the Douglas case,” Jamie said, kicking off the meeting. “I reached out to my contact at Chicago PD and learned that Detective Anthony Lambert has that one. He has a very good reputation and will go to great lengths to solve the matter.”
Leah nodded. “I read about him on the internet. The trouble is, he’s so focused on me it feels like he isn’t looking at anyone else.”
“You are listed as a person of interest,” Jamie agreed.
“But that’s not unusual. Oftentimes an investigation will include a good many persons of interest, and that list will get whittled down as the investigator moves forward, gathering information and evidence.
” She smiled reassuringly. “It’s not personal, just part of the process.
So, why don’t you walk me through how you’re involved? ”