It was nine o’clock before Sharp knocked on Jenny Kruger’s door, much later than he’d intended. He waited, the evening heat wrapping around him like a wet wool blanket.
Mental illness had kept Jenny in the same one-story house outside of town for more than twenty-five years, even though moving to town would have made life much easier for her son after her husband had disappeared when Lance was ten. Jenny’s symptoms had worsened over the years. Now she left her home only for group therapy sessions and appointments with her psychiatrist.
Sharp waved at the security camera. A moment later, Jenny opened the door. She nervously glanced up and down the country road before stepping back and admitting Sharp to the house. She was thin and fragile looking, with shoulder-length white hair and a stooped posture that reflected her insecurities. Mental illness had worn on her, adding years to her physical age, and she looked much older than sixty.
He gave her a quick hug, noticing how her shoulder blades seemed more prominent. Then he handed her the strawberry shortcake he’d bought at the farm stand on the way to her house. Normally, he didn’t approve of added sugar. But her illness and medications affected her appetite. She was a picky eater and needed calories any way she could get them.
When Lance’s father had gone missing, Sharp had been the SFPD detective investigating the case. It hadn’t taken long before he’d learned that Jenny wasn’t capable of caring for her son without help. Sharp had looked after the boy, making sure he got to hockey practice and giving him a place to stay when Lance needed a break from his mother’s illness or when Jenny was incapacitated. The timing had been fortuitous. Sharp had been at a bad place in his own personal life. They’d all needed each other. Now Jenny and Lance were the closest thing to family in Sharp’s life.
“You look a little pale.” Jenny studied him. “Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m fine,” Sharp lied.
“I could make you some tea.” She stocked his favorite organic green.
“I just had some, but thanks.”
They walked down the hall into the kitchen. She stopped to reset the alarm system on the panel in the pantry. A short hallway led to the three bedrooms, one of which had been converted to an office. An L-shaped desk held a bank of monitors.
“I’m glad you stopped by.” Jenny sat behind her desk.
Sharp settled into one of the two chairs facing her desk. “How’s Kevin?”
“Very well, thank you.” She clicked on her keyboard. She was currently engaged in a relationship with a man she’d met in group therapy. They saw each other once a week in person but video-conferenced every day. The relationship might seem odd to an outsider, but it made her happy.
Sharp had nothing but respect for Jenny. She’d been handed a raw deal, but she lived her life as best she could. In recent years, she’d worked hard to lessen her dependence on Lance.
“I was just about to call you,” she said. “I verified Tina Knox’s story and uncovered some additional information.”
“I knew you would.”
She smiled. “Before Tina’s father was arrested for the murder, a young member of his organization confessed to the killing. At the trial, Tina stated that the boy had been instructed to take the hit for her father. The boy was thirteen. He would be tried as a juvenile. His penalty would be less. The murder weapon had been placed in his hand, so his fingerprints were on it. The boy was present at the execution, so he could describe the scene in detail. The organization promised to look after the boy’s mother and younger siblings until he got out. Plus, if he refused, they would have killed him. They planned the false confession right after the murder. But Tina was a witness. She heard it all, and her testimony put her father in prison.”
“Where did you get all this information?”
“Once I had Joe Martin’s name, the details were easy to find. The case was big news at the time.” Jenny’s fingers flew across her keyboard. “There were numerous articles, but the best source was a New York Times piece with interviews of unnamed former drug dealers in Newark. I’ll email you a copy. The New York Times’s website makes articles available as far back as 1851. It’s fascinating.”
Jenny’s mental illness often took center stage. It was easy to forget that she was an unusually intelligent woman. She managed to make a good living without leaving her house. She taught online computer classes and ran her own business in website design, maintenance, and security. She also did much of the virtual legwork on their big cases. Sometimes Sharp forgot how much she needed to be useful.
She continued. “Joe Martin is linked to multiple businesses. Some seem legitimate. He owns a flooring company, a chain of pizza parlors, and a clothing manufacturer. There’s a real estate holding company and at least a dozen shell companies through which he likely launders some of his drug money. Some of these businesses are now being run by Joe’s son, Aaron Martin.”
Jenny clicked her mouse. “Tina has kept a low profile since she moved to Grey’s Hollow. She has no criminal record in New York State. She has been employed at the hospital for eleven years. Before that, she worked in a surgical center.”
“What about her ex, Kirk Meade?”
“He’s a piece of work.” Jenny opened a new document. “Paroled a few months ago after serving three years for assault. Before that, he had a string of misdemeanors. Even before his incarceration, his employment history is spotty, with more gaps than actual working time. He currently works as a forklift operator for ABC Furniture.”
“He’s a lazy bum,” Sharp muttered. “No wonder he’s angry that Tina divorced him. He has to earn his own keep now.”
“Next up, Paul Knox.” Jenny’s voice softened. “I found nothing. He lived in Grey’s Hollow all his life. His twenty-five-year record with the sheriff’s department is spotless. Paul was as clean as a bar of soap.”
“But someone killed him. They must have had a reason.”
“But that reason might not have been something Paul did,” Jenny pointed out.
Did Paul have dirt on someone else?
“I have one more thing I want you to look into.” Sharp pulled out his notes on Brian Springer and told Jenny what he needed. “The neighbor said the property is owned by a brother or brother-in-law and is on a lake. I know it seems like a needle-in-a-haystack situation, but it’s all I have.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Jenny made a copy of his notes on the copier behind her desk. She handed the original back to him.
Jenny took her hands from the keyboard and leaned back in her chair. “I haven’t started on Steve Duncan yet, but I’ll tackle his records tomorrow morning after Brian Springer.”
Duncan, Jake’s quasi guardian, was at the bottom of Sharp’s suspect list.
“Could you try and find any information on a man named Sam Jones who was arrested by the Randolph County Sheriff’s Department between six and twelve months ago? He sued the county and Deputy Brian Springer for use of excessive force.”
“Yes.” Jenny made a note.
Sharp stood. “Thanks, Jenny. No one is as thorough and quick as you.”
Jenny blushed. “I’m happy to help. I enjoy the work. I don’t like to be idle.”
“I’m sure we’ll have additional names for you to run as the investigation proceeds.”
Jenny followed him out of the room and walked him to the door. Once outside, he heard the dead bolt slide home.
Sharp texted Lance from the car, eager to share the news about Tina’s father. Then he headed for the office. As he stepped out of his vehicle into the heat and humidity, another spot of fatigue washed over him. What the hell? He was almost tired enough to break into Morgan’s coffee and donut stash.
Instead, he went inside, grabbed an orange from the kitchen, and took it to his desk. Jenny had emailed him detailed reports and photographs of everyone. He skimmed through them. Sometimes, a clue wasn’t so obvious as a criminal history. But nothing jumped out at him.
He downloaded the New York Tim
es article Jenny had sent him. It was a lengthy piece, part of the newspaper’s expanded Sunday edition. His gaze dropped to the byline under the article headline and shock gave him a quick buzz of energy.
By Olivia Cruz
Excitement stirred in his gut. He tried to squash it and failed. He should not be looking forward to asking her for yet another favor.
But he was.
Chapter Fourteen
In the passenger seat of the Jeep, Morgan drummed her fingers on her thigh. One thought dominated her mind as she watched Lance walk across the sheriff station’s parking lot toward the vehicle.
Tina keeps too many secrets.
Lance opened the driver’s door and slid behind the wheel. Looking up, he frowned. “Is that Esposito?”
“Where?” Morgan’s gaze darted back to the sheriff station.
A dark-haired man in a slick gray suit crossed the asphalt.
“That’s him,” she said.
In the back seat, Tina sat bolt upright. “Who is Esposito?”
Morgan answered, “Assistant District Attorney Anthony Esposito.”
“Why would the ADA be at the sheriff station?” Lance asked.
His tone implied he did not think it was a coincidence that Esposito had been in the station while the sheriff was questioning Tina. Morgan glanced at Lance. He stared through the windshield, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“I don’t know.” Lance started the engine. “But I don’t like it.”
Lance didn’t like Esposito. Period.
“He ran into a burning building with you,” Morgan pointed out. On their last case, Esposito had backed them up when it had counted.
Lance shrugged. He was not convinced the ADA had good qualities.
“We don’t know that his presence has anything to do with Evan’s case.” But Morgan was pretty sure it did. “He’s the prosecutor. He could be here for any number of reasons.”
Lance’s snort was not in agreement.
Tina fastened her seat belt. “I don’t trust the sheriff. He seems more interested in Evan and Paul’s arguments than in finding who killed Paul.”
Morgan twisted in the passenger seat to face her. “I don’t like the sheriff focusing on Evan and Paul’s arguments either.”
Lance glanced in the rearview mirror. “Is there any other reason you didn’t tell the sheriff about the arguments between Paul and Evan?”
“No.” Tina’s eyes shone with anger. “I didn’t think they were important. There wasn’t a huge rift between Evan and Paul. Twenty minutes after that argument, Paul and Evan had a heart-to-heart about it. Evan liked Paul. He was just upset that night.”
Knowing Evan, Morgan thought Tina’s explanation was plausible.
“What about your father?” Morgan asked. “Why did you keep that a secret?”
Tina’s gaze dropped to her lap. “Because I don’t want anyone contacting him. He hasn’t come after me. Maybe he’s just too old to care anymore. Whatever the reason, I’d like to keep it that way.” Tina lifted her head. “Do you think they have other suspects? Or are they focusing only on Evan?”
Lance stopped at a traffic light. “The police can’t rule anyone out in the initial phases of an investigation. I’d hoped Evan would be cleared quickly, but the initial evidence isn’t helping. Honestly, if I didn’t know Evan, I’d think he was guilty too.”
“It’s not fair.” Tina shoved both hands through her hair. “Evan gets judged all the time, especially by cops, because of a couple of stupid mistakes he made when his father went to prison. Like vandalism and murder are anywhere close to the same thing.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “What am I going to do?”
“You’re not alone,” Morgan assured her.
“You’re a lawyer, right?” Tina gnawed on a cuticle.
“Yes,” Morgan said. “But if you want me to represent Evan, you have to answer all my questions honestly. No more holding back information.”
Tina rolled her fingers into a fist. “If you’re my lawyer, then everything I tell you is confidential, right?”
“Yes,” Morgan answered.
Tina glanced at Lance.
“As my agent, Sharp Investigations is also bound by client confidentiality,” Morgan explained.
“Then I want to officially hire you.” Tina lowered her hand. “I need someone to protect Evan and me. I can give you a retainer. I have a little money put aside.”
Morgan waved a hand. “We’ll worry about payment later.”
In a worst-case scenario, Morgan would defend the boy pro bono. She’d done it before. She would do it again. Her sense of justice didn’t make her firm solvent, but money wouldn’t stop her from helping someone she viewed as being wrongly accused.
“You left Newark after the trial. How did you get your nursing degree?” Morgan asked.
“The university was one of the reasons I chose Grey’s Hollow,” Tina said. “Lots of students meant cheap, flexible housing. No one asked questions if you didn’t have any money. I found a job working in the university cafeteria and rented a room just off campus. I went to night school. I was pretty far behind, so getting my GED took years. But because I was a university employee, the tuition was free. Eventually, I applied to the nursing program and was accepted.”
“You must have worked very hard,” Morgan said with respect.
“The definition of hard is relative.” Tina exhaled. “I had a roof over my head and a bed of my very own. Most days, I had something to eat. No one beat or raped me. Life was pretty good.”
That Morgan believed.
“Are you sure you want to stay at the hotel?” Lance asked Tina. “Sharp has a guest room.”
“I like the hotel.” She rested her head on the back of the seat. “No one knows I’m there. The sheriff registered me under a different name.”
“Let’s stop for food on the way back to the hotel.”
Tina pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. “I couldn’t.”
Morgan doubted she’d eaten since she found Paul.
“You need to eat something,” Morgan said. “Or you’ll be ill. Does your room have a microwave?”
“Yes,” Tina answered. “The room is a suite. There’s a small kitchen.”
“Then we’ll stop for a few basics.” Lance stopped at a convenience store and went inside. Morgan watched the parking lot the whole time he was in the store. He returned to the Jeep and set a bag on the center console.
“Are you sure there isn’t a friend we can call for you?” Morgan hated to leave her alone.
Tina turned to the window. “There’s no one.”
She had no friends? She’d been close to no one except Paul? Tina had claimed that Paul had known about her criminal father, but had he? Morgan wanted to believe her. Tina had admitted she’d held back information. Had she lied as well?
Tina took her phone from her purse and checked it, shoving it back inside with frustration and disappointment. “I wish I could do something.”
Morgan studied the woman’s face. Bags gathered under her eyes. Her dark hair was limp. Tina looked as if she’d aged five years since she’d first called Lance for help.
“Did you get any rest today?” Morgan asked.
Tina sighed. “No. I drove around the lake, then town, like I’d see him on the street. It was stupid, but I couldn’t sit still.”
Morgan understood. Inaction created its own tension and stress. “I know it will be hard to sleep, but you should try to get some rest tonight. You will not help your son by getting sick. We’ll touch base again in the morning.”
“All right.” Tina’s sigh quivered. “But tomorrow, I’m going out looking for my son again.”
Morgan would do the same. No one could keep her from searching for one of her kids.
Lance exited the interstate and parked in front of a chain residence-type hotel.
“What name are you booked under?” Morgan asked.
“Smith. The sheriff isn’t very original.”
Tina climbed out of the car.
Lance and Morgan exchanged a knowing glance, both reaching for their door handles. Tina was a grown woman, and the choice to be alone was hers. But Morgan and Lance would make sure the hotel room was safe before leaving her.
“We’ll walk you in,” Lance said.
They bypassed the main lobby and went in a side door using Tina’s card key.
“Wait here. Let me check the room first.” Handing Morgan the grocery bag, Lance took the key and went in.
Morgan put her back to the wall and watched the hallway in both directions.
Lance returned in a minute. “It’s clear.”
They went inside. The room had a tiny kitchen and living area combined, with a separate bedroom and bath.
Tina wandered a few steps into the suite, looking lost. “I know you don’t understand why I need to be alone. It’s just my way. Paul didn’t always understand either, but he let me be. I’m not a social person.”
“You don’t have to explain.” Morgan would have hidden from the world after her husband died, but her family wouldn’t let her completely isolate herself. “Everyone is different.”
Tina nodded. She set her purse on the kitchen table. Her body stiffened.
“What is it?” Lance took two long steps and stood next to her.
“An envelope.” Tina pointed to the table.
Morgan looked past Lance’s shoulder. A letter-size white envelope sat in the middle of the table. It was addressed to Mrs. Smith with her room number and the hotel address. The letter had been postmarked in Scarlet Falls and dated the same day.
“Maybe it’s from the sheriff.” But as she said the words, Tina backed away from it.
“He would have told you if he’d sent you a letter,” Morgan said. “And any written communication from the sheriff’s department would be on official stationery.”
Secrets Never Die Page 11
