Dead Reckoning (19 page)

She should have known politics would get in the way.

The tension in the room was palpable. Mike Shelley sat behind his desk, looking like a disappointed parent as his eyes drifted from Kate to Frank and back to Kate. Matrone sat in the second visitor chair with his ankle crossed over his knee, looking like he’d rather be getting a root canal.

“I’m assuming both of you know why you’re here,” Mike said.

“I’m getting a pretty good picture,” Frank muttered.

“All I want is what’s best for the case, Mike. You know that.” But judging from the DA’s expression, she had the sinking feeling the meeting wasn’t going to turn out the way she wanted it to.

Sighing, Mike looked at Kate. “I understand your concerns and I share them.”

“Do you?” she asked tightly.

His gaze flicked to Frank. “Frank and I met yesterday afternoon and have discussed the issue at length.”

“I wasn’t aware that he’d shown up for work yesterday,” she said dryly.

“I was working off premises,” Frank cut in.

“Children.” Mike raised his hands. “Look, we’re all professionals here.”

“One of us is,” Kate muttered.

“Kate—”

“Mike, with all due respect, I have a case to prosecute. I need someone I can count—”

“I have an office to run,” Mike cut in. “I suggest you two work it out. I do not want to have this meeting again.”

She couldn’t believe her request had been dismissed so easily. All she could think was that someone very high on the food chain had saved Frank Matrone’s ass and now she was going to pay the price.

Her glare swept from Mike to Frank. “At the very least I need him to show up at the office.”

“Mr. Matrone has assured me he will be here.”

“Mike—”

“Kate, this meeting is over. I know where you stand. I know where Frank stands. And I’ve made my decision.”

It was difficult, but Kate held her silence. She’d worked with Mike Shelley long enough to know that once he dug in his heels, that was the end of it. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to have to make do with Frank.

 
As a general rule, Kate made a conscious effort not to waste too much energy on useless emotions. But she was angry when she strode into her office and slid behind her desk. She’d barely sat down when Frank appeared at her door.

“I figured we ought to go ahead and get this over with.” He was wearing black trousers with a gunmetal shirt and burgundy tie. The clothes fit well, and Kate couldn’t help but notice that while he may have recently lost weight, he was still solidly built with well-defined musculature.

“Come in.” Her voice was crisp and calm, belying the fact that her temper was lit.

He entered her office. Tension rose inside her when he closed the door behind him, and she wondered if he was planning on raising his voice. But his expression was inscrutable when he limped to the visitor chair opposite her desk and sat. She thought about the injuries he’d suffered overseas, and she tried hard not to feel guilty for having tried to get him removed from the case.

“This was not personal,” she began.

“You told my boss I’m a goddamn drug addict,” he said tightly. “That’s as personal as it gets.”

“I walked into your house Saturday night to find you totally incoherent. You didn’t even know who I was.” She hadn’t told Mike that Frank had made a halfhearted pass at her, but feeling she needed to explain her actions, she laid it out for Frank now. “For God’s sake, you thought I was someone else. You made a pass at me.”

His jaw flexed and he looked away, and for the first time she saw that he was embarrassed. “It’s not like I was expecting you.”

“You’re on call twenty-four/seven when you work for the DA’s office. You know that.”

“I have an old injury,” he ground out. “It gives me problems sometimes.”

“Problems so bad you have to render yourself unconscious?”

He said nothing, but she could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t happy with himself. “Frank, this isn’t about you. Yes, you need to address your problem. But the reason I went to Mike is because I need to win this case.”

“You crossed a line, Kate. You stabbed me in the back without knowing the whole story.”

“Maybe you should enlighten me to the story.” The moment the question was out, Kate regretted having asked. The truth of the matter was she didn’t want to know this man’s demons. She didn’t want this to turn personal. She didn’t want to feel his pain or care too much. She knew that to some people that would make her a coldhearted bitch. But Kate didn’t care. The case always came first.

“It doesn’t matter.” Frank rose unexpectedly, and Kate got the impression that she’d touched on a wound he didn’t want prodded. And it was suddenly clear to her that he hadn’t yet dealt with whatever had happened to him overseas.

Jesus’s words came to her unbidden, and an unexpected quiver of sympathy ran through her. Uncomfortable with the intensity of his stare, she looked away. “As an officer of the court, I had to report what I saw.”

“You don’t know what you saw. You made an incorrect assumption and jumped to conclusions.”

Denial,
she thought and didn’t respond.

A taut silence ensued. Frank stared out the window, his expression annoyed and decidedly unhappy. Kate divided her attention between him and her computer screen.

“It wasn’t my intent to hurt you or your career,” she said after a moment. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“
Career
is a pretty generous word at this point, but I sure as hell don’t need you telling my boss I’m popping pills.”

“Mike Shelley is a fair man.”

“Especially when someone above him is looking out for me.” She sighed. “Look, I’ve got an appointment with Evangeline Worth’s mother in half an hour.”

His gaze met hers. “What about?”

“Routine. I always make it a point to interview the victim’s family.” Realizing they’d landed upon common ground that might act as a buffer and get them—and the case—back on track, she sighed. “Do you want to ride along?”

 
TUESDAY, JANUARY 31, 10:49 A.M.

Evangeline Worth had lived with her mother and four children in a rundown neighborhood in South Dallas. The streets were narrow and riddled with potholes. Most of the small clap-board houses sported sagging porches, peeling paint, and curled roofing shingles. A few of the homeowners had added chain-link fences and steel bars to the windows, giving the neighborhood the feel of a prison yard.

The Worth household was the gem of the block. Neat flowerbeds with red brick edging lined the sidewalk. The house sported a fresh coat of pale yellow paint, and hunter green shutters. Even though the grass was brown, it had been manicured before the first frost hit. A well-cared-for Ford Escort sat in the driveway, the paint as shiny as the day it had been driven off the showroom floor.

Kate took it all in and tried not to let it bother her that Evangeline Worth was no longer around to take pride in the place she had worked so hard to make a home.

“Nice place,” Frank said, parking his truck on the street.

“If you don’t mind the occasional drive-by shooting.” Kate motioned toward a Cadillac across the street that had been jacked up and set on concrete blocks. A bullet hole the size of her thumb marred the glossy paint of the driver’s-side door.

Kate wasn’t looking forward to this interview. Talking to the families of murder victims invariably took something out of her. People needed someone to blame when a loved one died, some bad guy to lash out at. On more than one occasion, Kate had found herself the object of a bereaved family member’s grief and rage. But no matter how painful, she always showed up. And she always assured them she would do her utmost to see that justice was served.

She and Frank walked together up the crumbling sidewalk to the front porch. The morning was mild for January, with the temperature hovering around sixty degrees. But there were dark clouds piling up on the northern horizon, and Kate thought she’d heard on the news there was a cold front on the way.

Frank knocked. A moment later the door squeaked open and an elderly African American woman peered at them from behind thick wire-rimmed glasses. “Can I help you?”

Kate flashed her identification. “Mrs. Jackson? I’m Kate Megason with the district attorney’s office.”

“I already told the police everything I know.”

“I realize this is a difficult time for you and your family,” Kate said. “We just want to talk to you for a few minutes.”

“’Bout Evangeline?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Frank said.

The frail woman considered him for a moment. Her skin was the color of dark chocolate and lay like fine leather over a face that had once been lovely. Her eyes were an unusual shade of blue. Her hair was white and had been pulled into a neat bun at her nape.

“Come on in,” she said and tugged open the door.

The first thing Kate noticed was the enticing aroma of something meaty and delicious. Through the hall she could see into the kitchen and got a glimpse of antiquated appliances and a yellow Formica countertop. The living room was furnished with an overstuffed sofa and two mismatched chairs, one of which had been meticulously patched. On the small television set up on a TV tray, Bob Barker asked a heavyset woman to bid on a car.

“This is a nice place you have here,” Frank said.

The old woman gave Kate a look as if to ask, “Where did you find him?” and motioned toward the sofa. “You may as well sit down.”

“Thank you.” Kate started toward the sofa.

The old woman hobbled to the patched chair, braced herself on the arms, and fell into it. “What’s this all about? Haven’t you people asked enough questions?”

“I’m going to be prosecuting your daughter’s murder, Ms. Worth. I want to ask you some routine questions that might help me build a case.”

“Ain’t none of this routine for me.”

Kate felt Frank’s eyes on her, but she didn’t look at him. By unspoken mutual agreement, she knew he was going to sit this one out. “I understand.”

“Ain’t nothing been the same round here since she been gone. Evangeline was always such a good girl. Hardworking. If it wasn’t for her we never woulda made it out of the projects, but here I am. Own my own home.” The old woman shook her head. “She should be here, not me.”

Before even realizing she was going to move, Kate leaned forward and set her hand over the woman’s. The older woman looked at her with a measure of surprise in her eyes. Kate didn’t look away and hoped her expression relayed that her action was an honest one.

“Have you ever heard the name Bruton Ellis?” Kate asked.

Worth pulled a well-used tissue from her housedress and blotted her eyes. “Not till I heard it on the news that he’d been arrested for killing my baby.”

“Evangeline never mentioned him?”

“Lord Almighty no. She don’t hang out with no white trash like that.”

“Did you ever see a blue truck in the neighborhood? Maybe parked on the street or driving by slowly?” Pulling a police photo of Ellis’s truck from her bag, Kate held it out for her to see.

“Never see it before,” she said.

“Did Evangeline have a boyfriend?”

The old woman shook her head. “That girl was too good for the men who courted her. Damn crack dealers and gangsters all of them.”

Kate tucked the photo back into her bag. She knew the police had already asked all of these same questions and that they were tedious for the elderly woman. Still, Kate always made this visit. And she always asked the questions that needed to be asked. “Evangeline had four children?”

The woman nodded. “God, those babies miss their mama somethin’ awful.”

“Has their father been notified?”

“We ain’t heard from either man in too many years to say.”

“Are you their legal guardian?”

“Evangeline wouldn’t have had it any other way. Oh, sweet Jesus, she lived for those kids. That was why she was working the way she was. The Lord do work in mysterious ways, but I don’t think I’ll understand this one till I’m up in heaven myself and ask Him face-to-face. Leaving those poor babies without a mama like that.”

Kate heard grief in her voice. She saw it etched into the creases of the woman’s face. She felt a shadow of that same grief ebbing and flowing in her own heart. And for an instant it was as if she were looking into a mirror and seeing herself, broken and grief-stricken and left without hope.

Realizing the silence had gone on too long, Kate offered her hand to the woman. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Ms. Worth. Thank you for your time.”

“I just hope you lock him up and throw away the key.”

Digging into her bag, Kate pulled out one of her cards. “If you think of anything else that might be important, please call me. You can reach me after hours on my cell phone number, which is written on the back.”

The old woman took the card and slid it into her apron pocket without looking at it. “Don’t know what else I could say that you ain’t already heard.”

Kate rose without commenting. She was aware of the woman struggling to her feet. Of Frank moving toward the door. Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention, and she turned to see four children crouched on the stairs, watching her through the rail. They’d been listening, she realized, and at least one of the little brown faces was tear streaked.

“They ain’t been back to school since their mama died,” Ms. Worth said.

Kate didn’t know what to say. Four children left motherless. A frail old woman left to care for them. Nothing she could say seemed fitting.

She started for the door, but the sound of light footsteps turned her around. A little girl no older than four clung to her grandmother’s hip, her eyes watchful and cautious.

“Is the white lady going to bring mama back, Grand-mimi?” the little girl asked.