The Witness (33 page)

Luke had begun to smile partway through her words, and as she finished, he just relaxed in a chair and let his smile broaden. “Since you’ve already shut the door, you want to have a seat for a few minutes. You’ll like her, Sis; she’s a nice lady.”

“I figured that much out on my own. She’s got trouble?”

“Yes. The Griffin sisters in the news lately? Amy is the oldest that everyone talks about as having been murdered in New York years before. She’s still alive.”

Susan sank down in a seat and a few moments later closed her mouth. “All right, I got my shell-shock moment in. She’s okay? Safe, I mean?”

“As best we can arrange. Someone wants her dead so she’s not coming out of the shadows for a while as this plays out.”

“Why tell me?”

“Because I like her more than a little,” Luke finally replied. “And I promised a long time ago that there was one person I wouldn’t keep secrets from when it became really personal.”

“You could have bent that promise to me and I would have understood. Still … you really like her?”

“I do.”

“And it’s going to be forever and an age before I get to meet her.”

“I’m afraid so.”

Susan smiled at him. “I’ll grow into that idea. It explains why you’ve been disappearing.”

“And if Sam is getting followed, I may soon be as well. So if I’m more paranoid in the next few weeks, driving in circles, ignore it. We’ll get this guy sooner or later.”

“The killings …”

“I don’t know, Sis. Probably related, but it’s just hunches all around for what is going on.”

“You know I like Daniel a lot; I always have, and the sister I met, Marie—I hope you can resolve it soon. I’d hate to think of more trouble showing up in their lives.”

“I do too.” He got up and offered his hand. “Come on; you have to meet Marsh for a minute while you are here and tease him about getting engaged. The man turns positively embarrassed in the nicest kind of way.”

She slid her hand into his. “You’re enjoying that part of it, aren’t you? Seeing him finally settling down.”

“As proud as a chief could get. I’ve seen all the relationships that didn’t pan out, so it’s nice to watch one working for a change,” he admitted. He walked with her back through the bull pen, and spotting Marsh perched on the corner of Connor’s desk in a serious exchange, he cleared his throat to give his guys two seconds to shift gears before Susan reached them.

“So tell me what you two were debating,” Luke suggested to Marsh, finding the copy of the report he had been reading when Susan appeared and passing it to Connor for his attention. The two cops looked somewhat ill at ease being back in his office again, but Luke figured they would grow out of the problem eventually. One day he expected one of them to be sitting in his chair and running this place.

“The car. The VIN numbers show the Lincoln is New York registered, and the plates have been proven to be stolen. So the car is his, but the drop spot—maybe he paid someone in town to do his work for him, because either by pure luck or help, he chose one of the three spots in town I would dump it if I wanted it to be an interesting find for the cops. There is enough come-and-go housing in those blocks to make it a plausible area he might have settled.”

“They towed the car in last night.”

“Yes. The crime-lab guys found nothing, not even a partial print. He’d cleaned it out and left it for us.”

“He was probably watching the car too, to see who would come and watch it before it got hauled away,” Luke added. “He’ll have made you and Connor for sure.”

“A bother, but not so unexpected,” Marsh replied with a shrug. “We’re already all over the news thanks to that pack of reporters, and he could get our photos off a search of the newspaper archives if he wished. You’ve got to assume this guy stayed in town.”

“Sam’s place got slipped into—neatly, but files ruffled. So he’s searching for information wherever he can get it.”

“Okay, that’s news. Sam want us to take a look?”

Luke smiled at Connor and his detective grimaced. “Forget I asked. Did he get any prints?”

“He would have remarked if he had. You’ve got the recent photos on this guy that New York sent down?”

“Copies taped to the visor in all the vehicles and an extra copy in my wallet. We’ll know him on sight, Boss.”

“Let word slide down through the ranks that I’ll personally thank the guy that radios in a confirmed sighting. I don’t want an officer out on his own trying to stop this guy without backup, but I want him off the streets as a priority.”

“I think Marsh and I have already passed that message out,” Connor replied. “It’s going to cost us a couple nice game tickets, but that kind of offer tends to get some guys willing to work some overtime off the books. If there is something to hear—or see—out there, I expect we’ll have it.”

“Good.” Luke looked between the men. “Anything else catching your interest in the lab reports? I’ve seen the results coming in. Pretty thin so far.”

“A few hairs they haven’t been able to identify pulled from a blood spot on the bookkeeper’s body and a couple partial smudge marks from the bathrooms that might be sweat. It’s not a lot of evidence to match to a killer. The knife is consistent to both victims, including the busted tip on the blade. We’re back at both scenes this afternoon to give Caroline a look at them.”

“Keep it toned down a bit, okay? You two having nightmares is enough.”

“I’m not pushing photos her way,” Marsh concurred. “You want to hear her thoughts?”

“Anything glimmers at all, call me. This guy got both victims to let him inside, and they apparently didn’t sense danger until it was too late. I’d love to know how he managed that.”

“We’re talking to the neighbors for a third time tomorrow, hoping to get something new, and we’re going back through the interviews of people who knew the two of them, looking for someone they had in common recently. To just arrive, meet them, and kill them—he’s using quite a story.”

“Or someone they both already trusted had made the introductions,” Connor offered, “not realizing what was being set up.”

“Yeah, that fits. If you get an idea for how you want to try and push this guy, let me know. I’ll do the press work for you.”

“Appreciate it, Boss. I had a reporter leaning against my car this morning, waiting for me at 5 a.m. That’s not the way to start the day.”

Luke smiled. “Tell me about it. Tell Caroline hi for me and that I still want her back on the job. She’s going to get tired of being away one of these days.”

“I might even weave her a story or two about how much she’s missed,” Marsh said, smiling back. He nodded his partner toward the door. “We’ll call in.”

Chapter Nineteen

THE MOON WAS FAR enough up in the sky that looking out her studio window Marie could see it rising between buildings, bright in the clear night sky. She hummed to herself as she worked on the painting before her and listened to the apartment for sounds of Tracey and Marsh leaving. Tracey was on the way back to campus for a Thursday night lecture, and Marsh had promised to take her back and forth. Marie would go say good night, but she’d already said it once and thought giving the two of them some privacy was a better idea. Tracey had been too subdued lately with everything going on, and she needed Marsh around to smooth that out again.

“Daniel?”

“I’m still here.” The phone on the table was set to speaker mode; they were keeping each other company long distance tonight.

“Why don’t you call it a night and get back to work on the problem tomorrow?”

“I counted boxes, and there are another thirty-eight to go through. My uncle’s bookkeeper kept everything; I haven’t got to the boxes my uncle filed himself. I’m sure they are here too.”

“I could help out.”

“It’s just methodical work, scanning every page for something that might be important and marking the rest to be shredded once this settles down again. How’s the painting coming?”

“About done. I like this one.” She was trying hard to capture from a photograph a walk path and bridge she had visited last summer. It had been a good day with her sister, and she could remember the day well enough to try and get it onto canvas.

“I liked the last attempt.”

“Too many shadows in the trees; they looked sinister rather than peaceful.”

“Did Tracey leave for school?”

“Just.” She’d heard the distinctive sound of the outer door closing. “She needs the drive time with Marsh to shake away a few cobwebs. It’s been gloomy around here the last few days.”

“Same here. I talked the housekeeper into taking a couple days off; she’d known the two guys for years. This age of life you expect to hear heart attack not murder.”

“I know.” Marie didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to talk about it. Especially didn’t want to reflect too long on the fact it was Connor who had stood over the bodies, worked the scenes, and now led the search with Marsh to find the killer. “Would you like to come over to the gallery tomorrow and take a look at that seascape that came in? It’s pretty special.”

“Lunchtime? I’ve got an appointment out your way.”

“Sure.”

“It’s a date then. Any more thoughts on what the lawyer sent over?”

“Tracey already has her will signed and notarized. I’ll read the final copy on mine tomorrow. Shifting everything to Amy is a simple step, but if Amy and Tracey have both passed away—I’m not sure who should get asked to absorb this stress. Being wealthy is nice when it comes to living easier, but the rest of it—”

“Leave it to be paid out over time to your church; it’s got to go somewhere since you won’t be taking it with you.”

“Very true. Why do you talk so easily about heaven for others, Daniel, and yet not believe in God?”

“Do I have to answer that?”

“I already know your uncle was not exactly a good role model for what being a Christian is like. But the chief—he lives the same way he believes.”

“I know. Luke and I have talked a lot about God over the years; he can be persuasive when he needs to be.”

“But you still don’t believe.”

“I think God lets people in power do too much damage, that He cares about the big picture and bringing down nations and raising up others; but get down to a finer level where intervention would matter in justice between people and He doesn’t do enough. The Bible talks a lot about taking care of the poor and the widows, and God doesn’t seem to be that interested in changing the fact the poor just get poorer and the powerful more abusive in societies. God should be the cop walking the block, not a supreme court justice where it takes a decade for a legitimate grievance to get heard.”

“Maybe Christians are supposed to be doing the work to lift up the poor and oppressed.”

“Then God inspires very little loyalty to His cause. When was the last time you gave a gift to someone who was poor?”

The question caught her off guard. “The church missions group gives a lot and part of that would be my gifts, but that dodges your question. I don’t know anyone who is really poor; that’s sad, isn’t it? I’m in a downtown that used to be the run-down part of town, and now it’s too wealthy for those who used to live here.”

“We’re too comfortable in our own little worlds to actually connect with those who might need some help.”

“So that’s God’s fault?”

“I’d like to think someone was taking responsibility for the problem, and He says He sees it and feels their hurt.”

She thought about it and painted some more. “You feel guilty being rich.”

“Don’t you?”

“Yeah, some.” She sighed. “Not enough to go back to not having money. Identifying with the poor by being one of them may make it easier to connect and empathize, but it’s a lousy way to help.”

“So we’ll give away a few checks to try and feel better about ourselves and share some of the money around. I don’t want a religion that hopes for heaven because it’s the wealthy, prosperous place to be in the future. I want heaven to mean something more than a place; I want it to be a relationship. And so far the God I see and hear about—let’s just say He and I haven’t squared away what kind of relationship He’s talking about.”

“A love one, Daniel. Jesus looks at you and sees you and loves you. For all your money and things you worry and care about.”

“Henry sure didn’t see Christianity as that; he viewed it as a tithe to the penny and an appearance of the right actions, and the rest of life’s decisions—that was just business.”

“I’m sad for him now and the coldness of that and for you. It doesn’t have to be that.”

“So I’ll think about it some more in my own fashion, but not enough to believe like you do yet. It’s not a taboo topic, Marie, just one I see differently than you.”

“Okay.” Marie bit her paintbrush handle and studied the scene before her. Too dark again. “Remember God is looking for a love relationship next time you ponder it: trust, loyalty, discipline, closeness—all that a love relationship implies. I don’t model that all that well, but I know it’s what He wants.” She set aside the canvas to start another one. “Change of subject—I was thinking more about the wedding gift for Tracey and Marsh.”

“Any ideas?”

“Maybe.” She flipped through the notebook on the table. “They are planning to add on to the house to give them more space, and Tracey is a better decorator than I am. But they aren’t going to be around the house all their lives, and while I can’t plan trips for them, I could find out some things they would enjoy getting out to do together. Marsh loves to ski, and Connor mentioned Marsh is also a pretty avid fisherman. If the family had access to a boat and launch slip at the lake, it’s something Mandy could even join us to do, spending a day out on the water, that kind of thing.”

“It’s got possibilities.”

“Marsh would never accept it outright as a wedding gift, I don’t think, but as a gift that is part of a larger something else? Maybe.”

“You want me to find you a house to buy on the lake? It shouldn’t be that hard.”

“I was thinking more about you,” she admitted.

He laughed. “You really didn’t like my apartment, did you?”

“It’s nice enough and all, but you live inside the office all day and go home to live inside an apartment at night. There’s no outdoors in your life beyond your spectacular rose-filled walkway. You need a real house in the city, not some place outside of town you go to stay once every couple months. You ought to think about it, Daniel. You’ve got family now to help you mess up more space. And the thought of your moving into your uncle’s place—it gives me the shudders. It’s beautiful if you like a museum feel, but it’s not somewhere for you.”