An Intimate Murder (The Catherine O'Brien Series) (33 page)

“Good work takes time.”

“And you are the best.”

I scanned Digs’ notes, as surprised as ever at his thoroughness, he’d even analyzed Chad Luther’s vomit.

“That and my client keeps changing her mind. She’s had two retailers drop out of the project, so we’ve had to reconfigure the space for a different retailers needs.”

“Um, hmm.”

“Catherine? What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing. I’m listening to you.”

“No, you’re not.”

I was going to owe him big time. Only thirty-seconds before I’d sworn I was listening and my mind had wandered back to the case.

“Sorry, the drugs Doctor Dave gave me are kicking in and I’m really tired.”

Hell holds a special place for people who manipulate other’s sympathies to cover their own asses. The flames licked at my high heel boots from time to time, just to remind me of my place.

“Maybe you should knock off early and go home to rest.” His voice was full of concern.

“I’m kinda resting at my desk,” I said. “The Chief’s letting me take it easy today.”

No amount of Hail Mary’s or Our Fathers would get me out of this one.

“I’ll let you go,” Gavin said. “You’ll be home for dinner then?”

“I should be.”

I lied. I had no idea where the rest of the day would take me. From the look of Chad Luther’s toxicology report, the day might be far from over.

“I’ll make a light supper then. Chicken salad sound good?”

“Sounds wonderful.”

The call waiting beeped.

“I have another call, Gavin. I have to let you go.”

“Okay. I love you.”

“You do, don’t you?”

“Very much.”

“I love you, too.”

Gavin hung up and I clicked over to the in coming call.

“O’Brien here.”

“I got the search warrant from Judge Todd.” Digs panted into the phone as if he were running a marathon. “I’m on my way to see you now.”

He hung up without saying another word.

Louise and Jane arrived at my desk about three-tenths of a second before Digs burst through the double doors of the bullpen area, waving a sheet of paper.

“I got it!”

“What does he have?” Louise asked.

“The golden ticket. He finally gets to visit the chocolate factory like he’s always dreamed,” I said and grinned at my own humor.

“Oh, God.” Louise shook her head. “Don’t tell me you didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

My sense of humor kicked into overdrive on sleep deprived days. I fanned the air.

“I’m fine. It’s the drugs.”

Digs dashed between the desks like a pro receiver dodging tackles with the goal line in sight. He slid to a stop within inches of slamming his thigh into the edge of my desk.

“Judge Todd issued the warrant for the jeweler.”

He bent at the waist and took two wheezing breaths. It reminded me of the asthma kid in high school after track and field days.

“Jesus Digs, did you run up three floors?” I patted him on the back.

“Yep.” He nodded. “Judge Todd authorized the search warrant, and just the threat of cops showing up during business hours made the jeweler fax the information we needed.”

Digs passed the crumpled fax to Louise. After a few seconds of scanning the page, Louise’s eyes opened wide.

“What?” My heart skipped a beat in anticipation. “It was Susan Luther’s ring, wasn’t it?”

“No.” Louise shoved the paper toward me. “It was
Marion
Luther’s.”

On the top of the page was the logo for Panaterros Jewelers, one of the largest, and most respected, Jewelers in Saint Paul. You had to go through armed security just to enter their showroom. No wonder they hadn’t wanted police to visit. A raid by police was enough to frighten away their skittish high rollers.

Below their elegant, swirly logo was an official statement from the Panaterros’ corporate lawyer, stating their compliance with warrant number, blah, blah, blah. I flicked my eyes to the confirmation of purchase. Marion Luther’s name and address in McCann County were printed in bold italics.

“So what does this mean?” Jane asked.

“In and of itself, nothing,” I said. “But put it together with some other information Digs, our eager beaver, brought to light, and it means a whole hell of a lot.”

Digs grinned then frowned. “What information.”

I took a seat at my desk, and shoved the stack of filing to the side. Filing would wait another day. I logged onto my computer.

“There’s one more item I need to check first.”

I pulled up the Driver Vehicle Services record check window.

“If the answer is what I think it is, we’re all going home early tonight.” I looked across the desk toward Jane. “And you will have the scoop to beat them all.”

“Can I help?” Jane smiled.

“Yeah, call the funeral home in McCann County and find out if Marion was buried with her ring.”

“How am I supposed to get them to tell me that?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Use your press clout. Tell them you’re planning to expose a theft ring at their funeral home.”

Jane nodded and took out her cell phone. I tossed Marion Luther’s file across the desk to her.

Louise slid into her chair. “What are you onto, Catherine?”

“I don’t know yet, but I need you to do a bank records search.” I jotted a note and handed it across to her.

She reviewed the note then turned to her computer. “Sounds like this is getting good.”

When all of the calls had been made, and Louise, Jane, and I had a chance to conference about what we’d learned, we were ready. It looked like I would make it home for dinner after all.

For the first time in my career, all the players were assembled in one place like an Agatha Christie novel.

Chad sat at the table in the interview room with his hands wrapped around a coffee mug. He looked up when we entered and gave us a halfhearted smile.

“Am I being sprung or what?”

“Not yet Chad,” Louise said. She held the door open behind her.

An officer ushered in Linda Meyers. Chad’s brows drew into deep furrows.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Jack Meyers said as he followed his wife through the door.

Chad cocked one arm over the back of his chair. The swagger, and bravado, Jack had described to us when we first met was in full force.

“Good to see you again too,
Uncle Jack
.”

A lanky man in a gray three-piece suit stepped through the door carrying a briefcase. There were so many wrinkles on his face that he bore a striking resemblance to a Shar Pei puppy. Where his eyes should have been were two furry caterpillars, and a thick roll of skin. To my amazement, the caterpillars drew up and expose two gray eyes.

“I’m Mr. and Mrs. Meyers’s attorney, Patrick Bennett.”

There was a phlegmy quality to his voice that made me clear my throat.

“If there are any questions for these two, they should go through me.”

He pressed his lips together and the creases at the sides of his mouth drooped into swagging jowls.

“Please have a seat, Mr. Bennett,” Louise said. “We’re not quite ready for questioning.”

Linda, Jack, and Chad exchanged pointed, hate-filled glances for several tense moments. At last, the door opened again and revealed the remaining branch of this twisted family tree.

Jack Meyers gave a cynical laugh and folded his arms over his chest. “Perfect.”

“What the fuck!” Katie’s eyes darted around the room. “I’d think this was an intervention, but none of these people care that much about me.”

She finally turned her narrow eyes toward me and leaned in to give the bruises a good examination. She laughed.

“Pretty,” she said. “You’ve really gone down the toilet since I saw you last.”

Bob Shackelford, who had escorted Katie in, shoved her into one of the straight-backed chairs.

A giggle escaped me then turned into a full-fledge laugh. Stunned silence muted the room.

Louise leaned toward me. “Is it the drugs?”

“No.” I wiped a tear away. “That was funny. Then I thought what’s even funnier, is the next time Katie has a chance to use a toilet with a door, will be in about twenty to life.”

“For felony assault?” All humor had left Katie for the moment. “I don’t think so.”

“She’s right,” the Meyer’s Shar Pei-lawyer said looking up from his yellow legal pad. “Three years with a six-thousand-dollar fine max.”

“Interesting.” My voice dripped sarcasm. “Except she’s not going away for assault. She’s up for murder.”

“Oh,” Mr. Bennett said. “Then you’re correct.”

He returned to scratching notes on his legal pad. I briefly wondered from which phone directory they’d selected his name.

Katie Dolan went calm. Too calm.

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Maybe not directly,” I said. “But you helped.”

I pulled out the plastic chair in front of me, took a seat, and then folded my hands together on the table.

“This entire investigation was like a puzzle, with no picture to guide you, and too many corner pieces.”

I glanced back over my shoulder toward Louise. “I’m not stealing your thunder am I?”

“No.” She leaned her back against the cinderblock wall. “Frankly, I’m curious to see where the heck you’re going with this analogy.”

For once, she was letting me drive. Normally, my theories were so convoluted that Louise questioned my law enforcement background. Part of me knew that if we hadn’t had our pow-wow earlier she would be doing the pee-pee dance of nerves behind me. I gave Louise the Groucho Marx eyebrow waggle, and winked, before returning to my assembled suspects.

“You see, I started this puzzle expecting a square but all the extra corners seemed to fit. It wasn’t until the center of the puzzle was finished, that I realized what we were dealing with was an octagon and not a square.”

I glanced up to make sure the red light on the video camera was running. A speech this poetic was going to make the training rounds.

“First there was, Katie.” I swiveled in my seat to face her.

“I didn’t fucking kill anyone.”

“Your motive was strong enough for murder, and you had threatened to kill the victim in the weeks prior to her death.”

My hand drifted up and touched the side of my face.

“Then you attacked me, and I was sure you were violent enough for murder. The only problem is you don’t have a car. So unless you took a cab to the murder, how would you have gotten there?”

The Shar Pei-lawyer grunted and nodded his approval, then scribbled more notes on his legal pad.

Jane, who had taken up residence in the corner behind Chad, rolled her eyes toward the ceiling and shook her head.

“You have a car though.” I faced Linda across the table. “A dark blue car, which would fit the description of the car spotted outside your sister’s home when she was killed. Plus, the victims were killed with a gun owned by your husband.”

The caterpillars on the Shar Pei-lawyer’s face arched up and he cleared his throat. “My client has an easily corroborated alibi.”

I held up my hand to stop his lawyerly ramble.

“I’m sure she does, Mr. Bennett. We’ll get to that later.”

Linda let out a caveman like grunt. “I didn’t kill my sister.”

“Shut up, Linda,” Katie said. “The sooner she’s finished, the sooner we can go.”

Linda lunged forward. Her grab, halted by the width of the table, fell short of reaching her cousin.

“I’m as innocent as you are.”

“Whatever,” Katie said.

Jack Meyers eased his wife back into her seat. He put his arm around her shoulder to comfort her.

“You ready to jump in yet?” I asked Louise.

“Nope, you’re doing a bang up job so far.”

“Well, just tell me if you feel like you want to add anything.”

“I’ll be sure to let you know.” She nodded.

I continued.

“Then there’s Chad, who seemed too broken up to be involved in his parents death.”

“I have an alibi too,” Chad said.

“That’s right.” I drummed my fingers on the tabletop. “You were getting high, and drinking with some of your friends.”

Jack Meyers clicked his tongue against his teeth. “It figures.”

“Fuck off,
Uncle Jack
. I know you do blow.”

Jack’s eyes darted around the room as if he were looking for an escape.

“You’re a liar, Chad.”

“Oh, right.” Chad nodded and gave a feral grin. “I guess you’ve got white powdered snot then.”