Read Every Breath You Take: A Novel (A Kristen Conner Mystery Book 2) Online
Authors: M.K. Gilroy
Tags: #Suspense, #thriller, #Mystery
“Can you describe your relationship with Barbara Ferguson?” I ask Senior.
McGill clears his throat.
“Don’t worry, Stanley, I won’t confess to a crime. Barbara Ferguson and I had a real relationship. She extorted money from me and I paid it. I wanted to protect Jack, which I didn’t do very well.”
“How often did you have contact with her?”
“Me? Never. I met her once twenty-two years ago.”
“Did she try to contact you ever again?”
“Not that I am aware of.”
“Not even to ask for more money?”
“Ms. Ferguson was apparently quite the entrepreneur and created her own small fortune. She used Jack to build her client list. So in a roundabout way, I guess she was tapping into the Durham checkbook.”
“Did you attempt to end Jack’s relationship with Barbara when she returned to Chicago?”
“Is that germane?” Stanley asks.
Uh . . . yes.
“I’ll answer,” Durham, Sr. says. “In a word, no.”
“Is there a reason you didn’t?” I ask.
“Yes. Two reasons actually. The first time I intervened in Jack’s private life was a disaster. He and I never had the same relationship again.”
Derrick got that right, even if he and Senior look at things a little differently.
“Secondly,” he continues, “Jack was a minor when he first met Barbara. When she reentered his life, he was a grown man. I didn’t like it. I let him know that. But ultimately, it was his decision to make.”
“You could have cut his money supply off,” I say.
“Now, Detective Conner, I am going to have to agree with Stanley’s earlier objection. That comment isn’t germane. When you are a parent some day, you, too, will make many decisions. Some will be right, some will be wrong. With Jack dead, I cannot argue that I was right.”
I pepper him with questions for the next hour with Stanley McGill intervening regularly to let Senior know he doesn’t have to answer. Senior never misses a beat. Blackshear has interviewed Senior previously. He is right. The man is gracious and articulate—but in the end, you learn nothing.
“If charges are dropped or if Penny Martin is found innocent in a trial, what will you do?” I ask.
Stanley clears his throat.
Senior smiles and says, “Junior and I have talked it over. If the girl is innocent, we are happy to welcome her into the family. She can be included in the family to whatever degree she wishes.”
“How does that make your wife feel?”
“If Penny is innocent, she will be in perfect agreement.”
I’ll bet.
“You’re younger than I thought you would be,” Senior says to me. “You’ve had quite a lot of success at an early point in your career.”
“Luck and being in the right place at the right time,” I say, a little embarrassed.
“I don’t believe that and neither do you,” Durham, Sr. says. “Let me know if you would ever want to make a switch to private investigation. Durham and Durham could make room for a person of your obvious talents.”
No way am I going to look at Don. I keep a placid face.
“One reason Dad asked if you thought Penny was innocent is not something he’s comfortable bringing up,” Durham, Jr. says. “None of us are. But there is the matter of Jack’s share in the Durham Family Trust. We have provisions on how to divide and assign it should any of us pass away, but we do want to know if Martin will be in a position to contest the disposition—but only if she is guilty.”
“If she’s guilty, wouldn’t she lose any claim?” I ask.
“Not necessarily,” McGill answers. “But that’s for another time and discussion.”
“But there’s nothing more you can say?” Junior asks.
“It wouldn’t be appropriate for us to share any particulars of the case,” I say.
“Son, she already answered that question,” Durham, Sr. says with a smile.
“We are sorry for your loss, sir,” Don says, now visible again. “We will continue to do everything in our power to seek justice in your son’s death. Unless there’s anything else you or Robert, Jr. have to say—”
“No, no,” Durham, Sr. says, rising to his feet. “We’ve taken valuable time from you and don’t want to be a burden to the system.”
We all give polite nods, smiles, and handshakes. As Don and I are exiting the office, Senior calls after me—
“Don’t forget what I said, Detective Conner. Consider that an official offer to join the firm of Durham and Durham.”
Once in the elevator, I finally look at Don. He pops his eyes wide and shakes his head.
58
“CONNER,” I SAY, answering a late night call on my home phone.
“Can we talk?”
“Dell?”
“The one and only.”
“Why are you calling me after 11:00 on a work night?”
I have to change my home number. Or drop it.
“Did I wake you?”
“That’s beside the point. You could have.”
“You’re right. I probably just wanted to hear your voice.”
Ugh.
“Would your fiancée feel comfortable with you calling to hear my voice?”
“We split up.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, but that has nothing to do with me. Good luck, good night, and don’t call back.”
“Kristen—”
Oh boy, oh boy. Is Dell my stalker? No way would he put a video camera in my home. Would he? Should I have reported him?
• • •
“No! I didn’t kill him. Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t make a good suspect. Same as you if certain events were made known.”
“Did you ever read Agatha Christie mysteries when you were a kid?”
“I don’t remember. I saw a movie from one of her books once. What’s this got to do with anything?”
“I had to read
Murder on the Orient Express
in eighth or ninth grade at good old Farnsworth. All I can remember about the book was that in the end, everyone had a reason to murder the guy—and everyone worked together to do it. They all got to stab him once.”
“Okay, you need to chill out. You’re getting way too philosophical on this. Yeah, about everyone who knew Jack had a reason to kill him. But you didn’t do it and I didn’t do it. So it wasn’t all of us.”
Derrick knew him well and didn’t believe him.
59
“OKAY, OKAY, I’M sold,” Blackshear says. “I’ll take what you got to Legal. But doesn’t mean we’ll get your search warrant, Conner.”
“Do we even need a warrant?” Don asks. “She’s still under arrest for murder even if the judge did grant bail. He put the tether on her and qualified her release as house arrest. I would think we have free access.”
“You might be right,” Blackshear says. “But we aren’t doing anything that jeopardizes evidence if Kristen is right. I think this is a procedural nuance and I don’t want to make any assumptions on it. She’s not been convicted of a crime and she has rights.”
“She also has a steady stream of visitors now,” I say. “I think we’re late as it is. She’s not a dummy. If she has anything hanging around that might incriminate her, we need to get our hands on it before she makes it disappear.”
“So now you think she’s guilty?” Blackshear asks. “I thought you were the one that questioned her arrest even before the Ferguson murder.”
“I don’t know,” I answer. “I go back and forth. But I know she is her mother’s daughter. Smart. Savvy. Strategic. If Bobbie had a hidden safe behind built-in drawers in her closet, it wouldn’t surprise me if Penny has one too. And there may be something in there that helps us put the final nail in her coffin—or nail whoever murdered both Durham and Bobbie. Even if she didn’t do it, she knows something. She’s in the middle of every aspect of this case. Or these cases.”
“Like I said, I’m sold,” Blackshear repeats. “But the basis of the warrant is highly speculative. I’m just letting you know it may not be granted.”
We all nod and stand.
“By the way,” Konkade says as I head for the door, “we are going to look into the Dell Woods angle on your home invasion. After what happened this summer, you should have told us immediately that he has attempted to resume communication with you. I, for one, was never convinced he was as innocent as he looked.”
“It was just two calls.”
“Two too many,” he says.
I’ve been a little peeved at Konkade during this murder case. I still think he went to the boss a couple times to rein me in on my suspicions. But his concern and follow-up on Woods means he is officially forgiven in my book.
• • •
This is impossible. I have no Barbara Ferguson to direct operations and no Tracy to perform makeup magic to get me ready for a date. I don’t know what you wear to a James Taylor concert. Sounds casual to me. But it’s at the Odium and that’s fancy. I’ve decided on the spray-on jeans, a silk blouse, and every piece of jewelry I’ve ever bought. It’s all cheap. Who knows, it might actually work. I’ve been working on my makeup for an hour. I can’t remember how Tracy did it. I don’t think it’s looking right. But it’s the best I can do. I crane forward and look at my eyelashes. I run the brush through again. I’ve got a couple clumps I can’t get smoothed out.
My phone vibrates and falls off the toilet tank again. I’m going to crack that screen if I put it back up there again. That’s five straight calls. Only my mom hits the green call button as many times as necessary to get me to answer it. Pick up? Explain I can’t talk and get off immediately? Call her in the morning to tell her I’m sorry but I was working? She won’t be happy either way.
The vibration stops. And begins again. My phone is sliding across the bathroom floor. I scoop it up and swipe the screen. Klarissa. That’s strange. Something must be up, particularly since she’s on-air tonight.
“Hey, Sis.”
“Where are you, Kristen?”
“I’m at home, Klarissa, but getting ready to go out. I’m working tonight.”
She pauses. I hear a sniffle.
“You got to get off your shift right now. Kaylen fell. Her water broke. They don’t know if the baby is okay. She just got picked up by an ambulance. Jimmy is with her. She’s on her way to Advocate Christ Medical Center in Oak Park.”
Oh, dear God.
“I’m on my way.”
“No. I told Jimmy you would head to their house and pick up Kendra and James. I need to confirm you are on the way. He’s worried sick and pulled two directions. I’ve been on the phone with Kendra and she has everything under control at the moment but it’s just the two kids there.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m stuck in traffic driving to the hospital. I’ve been up in Evanston taping a story. It’ll take me an hour to get there but at least ninety minutes to get to their house.”
“Okay. I’ll be out the door in five minutes or less. Where’s Mom?”
“She did one of her field trips with the senior adults from church. She’s in a van driving back from some conference downstate. I said too much to her and she’s nearly hysterical. I’ll call her back and try to calm her down. Just go get the kids and call me back.”
• • •
I can pick up Kendra for a soccer game in twenty minutes on a Saturday morning. Friday night traffic is already brutal. It’ll take at least forty-five. I took a minute to scrub my face clean, squirm out of the spray-on jeans, throw on jeans I can breathe in with a cotton pullover, grab my duck boots, and put on a medium weight coat. My Miata fired right up and I was weaving through traffic in six minutes. I called Kendra and told her I was on my way and to sit tight.
“Aunt Kristen, is Mommy and baby Kelsey okay?”
“They’re going to be fine, honey,” I told her.
They are.
I hit Derrick’s number. No answer. I push one and leave a message.
“I have a family emergency, Derrick. No time to explain. But I have to cancel on tonight. I’ll call tomorrow and explain.”
I hit Don’s number and Vanessa answers.
“Sorry to bother on you on a Friday night, Vanessa, but is Don available?”
“You never bother me, girlfriend. Everything okay?”
“Not really. Kaylen fell and her water broke. She’s with Jimmy in an ambulance. I’m on my way to pick up the kids. I was supposed to be working an assignment tonight. I wanted to let Don know so he could pass the message along the phone chain.”
“He’s in the shower. Hold on and let me get him.”
“Just have him call me when he’s done. I have a couple more calls to make and I’ll pick up when his number pops up.”
“I am so sorry Kristen. We’ll be praying. And you know everything is going to be okay. Us women are indestructible when we’re carrying a little one.”
“Thanks for the prayers, Vanessa. I’m sure you’re right.”
I check back in with Kendra and she’s fine, but lets me know James isn’t obeying her and she’s in charge.
“Tell him to behave or he’s in big trouble with Aunt Kristen.”
She laughs at that. Good. She’s handling things fine.
I hit Mom’s number.