Chapter Nineteen
Russ wanted to go straight to the chief with what he had, but he knew it wasn’t enough to get a real investigation going. He would also be jeopardizing his job even further. Better to wait until he had something solid.
He did, however, share what he’d learned with his partner, and wasn’t surprised at Hanson’s reaction.
“What the hell are you doing?” Hanson demanded. “You were told to back off Marshall. I can’t believe you’re still chasing this.”
“I have a missing woman, the same woman Amy Sue saw murdered, and a witness who says the woman’s lover was Jack Marshall. Is that really not enough to make you wonder how the bastard did it?”
His partner shook his head. “You have a missing woman, period. Adding some third party willing to say Jack Marshall was the woman’s lover doesn’t prove anything except the man is a philanderer.
You still don’t have any proof that the woman is even dead, let alone murdered by her lover—who we all know was in Great Falls at a conference. ”
“Except he was also looking to buy a private jet, which would have gotten him to and from Billings that night in enough time to kill his mistress and still get back to Great Falls before anyone realized he was missing.”
“Have you found someone who flew him? I didn’t think so,” Hanson said.
“What about the eyewitness who saw Marshall murder Whitney Clark?” Russ demanded.
“The man is lying. And it isn’t the first time he got someone to lie for him.
Years go his ex-girlfriend was attacked.
Marshall’s new girlfriend gave him an alibi—and he got away with it.
How many more women has he hurt or killed? ”
“Are you listening to yourself?” Hanson demanded. “You make it sound as if Jack Marshall is a serial killer!”
“Why not? I’m sure he’s a serial cheater.”
His partner shook his head. “You really need to let this go. If the chief knew how much time you’re putting into this—let alone that you’re digging into Marshall’s past—”
“I’ve been doing it on my own time,” Tate said.
“Like that would make a difference.” His partner swore. “Unless you have a body and can put Marshall in Billings that night, you’re wasting your time. Not to mention, if the chief finds out, I’m going to be looking for a new partner. Is this woman really worth losing your job over?”
“It’s not about a woman. It’s about justice, something Whitney Clark can’t seem to get in Billings, Montana, because of the man she fell in love with—Jack Marshall—and the people who protect him—even the police.”
He sat down and wrote up his report. He wanted this on the record. Eventually the truth would come out, he told himself. He wanted to be on the right side of the law when it did.
Russ had just finished when the report came in about a body being found in a pickup on the rims last night. The victim was Robert Baker.
Liz got the call from Detective Tate later than afternoon. The moment he said, “I have some bad news,” she feared it was going to be about Amy Sue.
“Your ex-husband Robert was found murdered on the rimrocks overlooking the city in the wee hours of the morning. I’m so sorry.”
She’d dropped into a chair as she fought conflicting emotions.
There was the usual sorrow and regret when it came to Robert, but also an old ache for the man she’d thought she’d married.
The news, while sad and tragic, didn’t come as a shock.
“I knew this was going to happen. I tried to stop him.” She spilled the whole blackmail story to the detective.
“Do you still have those voicemails he left you?” Tate asked.
“No, I foolishly deleted them to protect him. Won’t they be on his phone?”
“His phone is missing,” the detective said.
“You know who did this,” she said, anger making her eyes burn with fresh tears. “Jack Marshall killed him.”
“We might suspect that was the case, but we have no proof.”
“How was he killed?”
“He was stabbed to death and the scene made to look like a robbery.”
Liz let out a bitter laugh. “Like Robert appeared to be a man with a lot of money driving that beat-up old truck, dressing the way he did?”
“I understand what you’re saying,” Tate said. “The murder will continue to be under investigation. I will need a statement from you to take to the chief, but Liz, if you’re right, Marshall will have an alibi. You can count on that.”
“You must have gotten in late,” Christine said to her husband that morning at breakfast.
“Not all that late. Ten thirty. You were already asleep,” Jack said, not meeting her gaze. “I didn’t want to wake you. I had a lot on my mind, so I slept in the guest room.”
She’d heard him come home after 3:00 a.m. She had immediately realized that he’d been drinking.
It was the way he’d taken the stairs. She’d turned over, away from his side of the bed, and pretended to be asleep as she’d tried not to be alarmed by how late he’d come dragging in.
Whatever was going on with her husband was bad, that much she knew.
He’d left their bedroom, stumbling down the hallway to the guest room.
“Is it something you’d like to talk about?” she offered as she poured him a cup of coffee and one for herself.
“Just business. It’s nothing to worry about. Thanks,” he said as he took the coffee and offered her a smile.
“I wish you had woken me last night. I’ve missed you.
” She returned his smile and touched his hand.
They had sex regularly, she made sure of that.
But she realized it had been over two weeks and during that time, she’d hardly seen him because of the late hours he’d been keeping.
She worried that the affair hadn’t ended or had ended badly, and he was still dealing with it.
Yet she couldn’t ask, could she? It was the hole she’d dug for herself.
Sometimes she questioned if Jack was even aware that she knew more about him than he even seemed to know about himself.
She found it almost amusing that he thought he was keeping his affairs from her.
“I’m sorry,” he said, turning his hand to take hers. “I did think about waking you, but you looked like you were sleeping so good, I couldn’t do it.”
She wondered if her smile was convincing as she listened to his lie. “I wish you would have. Maybe come home earlier tonight?”
He nodded and let go of her hand. “Make us a reservation to your favorite restaurant. We’ll make a night of it.”
Christine had barely agreed when she heard the doorbell chime. When she looked out and saw the police car parked out front, she felt her heart drop. She glanced at her husband and glimpsed something she’d never seen in his eyes.
Panic.