The Dead Daughter

by Thomas Fincham

  SEVENTY-SEVEN

  The man’s baseball cap had hidden a bald plate. His hands were big and calloused, and there was dirt underneath his fingernails. His eyes were blue, and they darted from one spot to another as if looking out for any sign of danger.

  His name was Gus Holden, and he lived a hundred miles from Milton.

  Callaway had felt bad for scaring Holden, so he offered to buy him a drink. They could not find a bar nearby, so they grabbed a seat at a café’s patio.

  “Why did you run away when you saw me?” Callaway asked.

  Holden took a sip of his drink. “I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting anyone to catch me.”

  “And why were you worried about anyone catching you?”

  Holden looked away. He looked like he did not want to say too much. Callaway needed answers, and he was not about to let this man go without getting some.

  “I’m trying to find out what happened to Kyla,” Callaway said. “So whatever you tell me might help me do just that.”

  “I saw you on TV,” Holden said instead.

  “TV?”

  “Yeah, you were leaving Paul Gardener’s house. I know you’re helping my daughter’s killer.”

  “He didn’t kill your daughter.”

  Holden’s eyes gleamed with surprise. “He didn’t?”

  “No, and I’m going to prove it.”

  Holden suddenly looked relieved. “I never believed the news when I heard it.”

  “Have you met Paul?”

  “Once.”

  “And?”

  Holden was silent again.

  Callaway leaned closer. “Listen. Right now, I have no idea what’s going on, but what I do know is that a man may get the death penalty for a crime he never committed. So, let’s start with a few simple questions, okay?”

  Holden nodded.

  “Why haven’t you come forward and told everyone Kyla’s your real daughter?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  He sighed. “I was paid never to tell anyone she was my child.”

  Callaway blinked. “What?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who paid you?”

  Holden hesitated a moment. “Barron Lester,” he whispered.

  “Senator Lester?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  “It was a long time ago,” he said. “Sharon and I were young. I met her at a rock concert. I was there with my friends, and she was there with hers. We started talking during the sets, and I was immediately attracted to her. At the end of the concert, I asked her out for drinks. I was surprised when she agreed. I could tell she came from a wealthy family. She drove a nice car, and she had on expensive jewelry. My dad owned an automotive garage, and I worked there as a mechanic, so money was always tight. Anyway, we went to a bar and drank. We then went to my apartment, where we did pot. And then one thing led to another. When I woke up the next morning, she was gone. I didn’t pay too much attention to it, but a couple of days later—or maybe it was week, I don’t remember—Sharon showed up at my dad’s garage. I think she saw a business card in my apartment, and she knew I was a mechanic, so it wasn’t hard for her to find me. She told me she was pregnant. She said she came from a conservative family, and when they found out, they’d kill her. She said I had to marry her. I was scared. I didn’t know what to do. But I told her I would speak to my father and it’d all be all right.” He paused and took a sip from his cup. “Before I could get the courage to tell my dad, I got a visit from Sharon’s father. He wasn’t a senator at the time, but I could tell he liked being in control. Sharon told him what had happened, and he wasn’t pleased by it. In fact, he looked so agitated that I thought he would hit me. Instead, he said he had an offer for me. If I agreed to never see Sharon again and tell no one I was the child’s father, he would pay me a large sum.”

  “How much?” Callaway asked.

  Holden lowered his head. “One hundred thousand dollars.”

  “And I bet you took it.”

  “I didn’t see any other choice. I didn’t want to be a father, and I didn’t want to get married either. I was still young. Plus, I needed the money. My dad’s garage had a lot of loans on it, and I wanted to help him out. I met a lawyer. I don’t remember his name. I signed a document, and I walked away with a check for a lot of money. I’m not sure what they told Sharon, but I know she felt abandoned. So, she married Paul Gardener, and they told him Kyla was his child.”

  “Then what happened?” Callaway asked.

  “I regretted what I did the moment I took the money, but it was too late. If I went back on the agreement, the lawyer would have sued me and taken my dad’s garage away. So instead, I kept my distance, but every once in a while, I would check up on her.”

  “You mean Kyla?”

  He nodded. “I followed her a few times. I know it sounds creepy, but I needed to be sure she was being taken care of. And by the looks of it, she was.”

  “You said you had met Paul once,” Callaway said. “When was this?”

  “It was maybe when Kyla was ten. I faked car trouble by the side of the road. I knew Paul would be driving by around that time. I wanted to see what kind of man he was. To my surprise, he stopped and tried to assist me. He had no idea I knew more about cars than he did. He then called a tow truck and waited with me for it to show up. During this time, I got to talk to him. I asked about his family—my real motive was to know about Kyla. I could see the pride and joy in his eyes whenever he spoke of her. That’s when I knew I had nothing to worry about. But when I heard about her death, I was devastated. I wanted to go see her, but I knew I couldn’t. Senator Lester is not the man you see on TV. The man I met was cold and calculating. He would not only use our agreement against me, he would also make sure I was completely destroyed.”

  “I don’t see how he would be able to do that.”

  “He could go to the media and tell them that I had sold my right as a parent for money. Plus, I have a family of my own now. I am married with two boys, so Kyla was my only girl. They have no idea of my past, and I don’t want to drag them into this mess. It would devastate them, and it could destroy my marriage and my relationship with my sons.”

  Holden choked up. “I always hoped one day, when Senator Lester was gone, I would get an opportunity to tell Kyla the truth. Now that she is dead, that hope died with her.”

  Callaway could not help but feel sorry for Holden. He had made a decision he would regret for the rest of his life.

  After a brief pause, Callaway asked, “Before Kyla’s death, who knew you were her real father?”

  Holden thought a moment. “Sharon, her father, and her brother.”

  SEVENTY-EIGHT

  Fisher drove back to the station. She was able to catch up on her sleep, and she even managed to run some errands. Overall, it was a productive day. The Gardener investigation had come to its conclusion. Barrows would work out a deal with Roth, and the case would be closed.

  Holt was still miffed about this. After leaving Barrows’ office, he had refused to answer Fisher’s calls. He fervently believed they had a case to send Gardener away for life. Even the death penalty was a possibility if Barrows pushed for it.

  Holt was laying blame on the DA’s office for not doing their job. They had an open-and-shut case, and they were caving into the defense’s demands when the prosecution had the upper hand.

  Fisher understood Barrows was in a tight spot. She had to please her bosses who were being pressured by Senator Lester to make this go away.

  On all the cases Fisher had worked on, she was certain of the guilt of the accused. In Paul Gardener’s case, she was not so sure. All the evidence pointed in his direction, which made her suspicious. She could smell a setup from a mile away. But she had no proof to confirm her hunch. Plus, it was not her job to do so. The defense should have been on this from the beginning. They were not, which probably meant they knew Gardener was guilty.

>   She made her way to her desk. Holt was waiting for her with a wide smile on his face.

  “Don’t tell me,” she said, shaking her head. “You found new evidence in the Gardener case.”

  “I did, indeed.”

  “Really?” she asked, surprised.

  Holt waved a document in the air. “The ballistics report came back.”

  “And?”

  “The bullet found in Pedro Catano came from a 9mm Glock.”

  “Okay.”

  “Guess who else had a 9mm Glock registered to his name?”

  Fisher sighed. “Paul Gardener.”

  “Bingo.”

  “But we searched the entire house, and we didn’t find any weapons.”

  “And you know why?” he said. “About a month ago, Gardener had reported the Glock missing. I’m guessing he had it on him the entire time.”

  “Then why didn’t he just shoot Kyla with it? It would have been cleaner than stabbing her, and he would have avoided getting evidence on his clothes.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s just dumb.”

  Fisher frowned. “This doesn’t feel right.”

  “We don’t base a case on feelings. We base them on the evidence we get.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “And that’s coming from you?”

  “I know you think this is personal to me, and maybe it is, but I know when to follow my gut. And my gut tells me Gardener murdered his daughter and her lover. This report further confirms this.”

  Fisher was silent.

  “Listen,” Holt said. “Even if you don’t agree with me, how do you explain Gardener owning a 9mm Glock and that the bullet found in Pedro was from a similar weapon?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Exactly,” Holt said. He clenched his fist. “I’ll be damned if Gardener gets a deal now.”

  SEVENTY-TWO

  Callaway rang the doorbell and waited. A Filipino woman answered.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “Is Mrs. Sharon Gardener home?”

  The woman hesitated.

  “Tell her it’s Lee Callaway. I work with her husband, Paul.”

  “Please wait.”

  She closed the door behind her.

  Callaway turned and stared at the water fountain.

  On his drive over, he had spotted a couple of news vans parked on the side of the road. They did not dare enter the house’s gates lest they be charged with trespassing. He hoped that would not end up happening to him. He came here for a reason, and he did not want to leave without it.

  The door opened, and the Filipino woman said, “Please come in.”

  He found Sharon waiting for him in the living room. She looked like she had not slept in weeks. Her eyes were red and puffy. Her skin was pale, and gray strands were visible in her hair. Both she and Paul had aged substantially from the time their daughter was found dead.

  Callaway did not know how he would go on if something were to happen to Nina. He was fully aware he had not given her enough of his time. He always figured he would make it up to her later. But if he was robbed of that opportunity, he was not sure how he would go on with his life.

  “I’m not supposed to talk to anyone,” Sharon said. She did not offer Callaway a seat, nor did she sit.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said.

  She stared at him. “Thank you.”

  “This must be a difficult time for you, so I’ll keep it brief,” he said. “I don’t believe Paul killed your daughter.”

  Her eyes became moist and she bit down on her bottom lip.

  “Paul loved Kyla and he would never harm her.”

  “Is that what he told you?” she asked.

  “He did.”

  She fell on the sofa and covered her face with her hands. For a second, Callaway thought Sharon would break down and cry.

  “Mrs. Gardener, I know this must be weighing heavily on you,” he said. “So I’m giving you a chance to clear your conscious.”

  She looked up. He could see it in her eyes. She desperately wanted to talk, but her family was preventing her from doing so. “What do you want to know?”

  “Did you know Kyla was pregnant?”

  “No.”

  “Did anyone else in your family know she was?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Did you see anything between Kyla and Pedro?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like if they were romantically involved.”

  She thought for a moment. “I didn’t pay too much attention to what was going on in her life. I was too busy with mine.”

  She shook her head.

  “When you came home from shopping that night,” he said, “did you see Kyla?”

  “No. I didn’t bother to check her room. I was preoccupied with something else.”

  “Your late night visit with Mr. Kenny Goldman?”

  She shot daggers at him, but then her eyes softened. “You know, ever since Kyla’s death, both of our lives have fallen apart. Kenny’s wife has left him, and he’s now living in a motel. I am alone, and I’m living in my brother’s house.”

  Callaway did not want this interview to be about her tryst. He wanted to confirm some things, and he knew he did not have much time before she asked him to leave.

  “After your visit with Mr. Goldman, you came home, and then what did you do?”

  “It was very late at night. I took some sleeping pills, and I went to bed.”

  “Did you see if Kyla’s bedroom lights were on?”

  She thought for a moment. “I don’t think they were, or else I would have spoken to her about it.”

  “And during the night, did you hear any commotion coming from your daughter’s room?”

  “Even if there was anything, I wouldn’t know because of the medication.”

  “So you have no idea if your daughter was home when you came back from your shopping, or when you returned from meeting Mr. Goldman?”

  She sighed. “I don’t.”

  Callaway pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he plunged into deep thought.

  “How is Paul doing?” Sharon asked.

  He was surprised she was concerned about him. All this time, she and her family were going in front of the cameras and playing the victim while he was left to hide in his mother’s house like a monster.

  “I mean, how is he after he found out that Kyla isn’t his?” Sharon said.

  “He’s devastated.”

  She lowered her head. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, but I know I did. There were other men, but he still stuck with me. I think he did it because of Kyla. He loved her so much, and he couldn’t bear the thought of not being a part of her life.”

  Callaway grimaced. Nina’s my child for sure, and yet I barely see her, he thought.

  “One last question,” he said. “After you found Kyla in the bedroom, you went to the guesthouse to wake Paul up. Did you notice a smell?”

  She looked baffled by his question. “Smell?”

  “Yes, perhaps something sweet.”

  Her brow furrowed. “I’m not sure if it was sweet—my mind was all over the place at that moment—but now that I think about it, I did smell something odd.”

  EIGHTY

  Callaway was on his way back to his office when he received the call from Fisher. She explained the findings of the ballistics report.

  “Thanks, Dana,” he said, and hung up. Not good, he thought. Not only would they charge Paul with Kyla’s death, they would also tack on Pedro’s as well. Whatever plea deal Paul was hoping to get was now out the window. Callaway could not see the prosecutor showing any leniency when it was a double homicide

  He called Paul, but his phone went straight to voicemail. Callaway had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He turned the car around and drove straight to Paul’s mother’s house.

  Callaway was not sure if the news had reached the press camped outside the house. It would soon enough. Something like that could only stay
a secret for so long. An ambitious reporter would have to make one call to his contact in the Milton PD, and after sweetening their agreement, the contact would be more than willing to part with that information.

  Callaway parked behind a news van and got out. He did not bother trying to be low-key. He had more urgent matters to be concerned about. As expected, the press sensed something was up when they saw him rush toward the house. They descended on him, but with his head down, he pushed past them and moved up to the front porch.

  He banged his fist on the door and yelled, “It’s Lee Callaway!”

  The door opened slightly.

  “I need to speak to Paul,” Callaway said.

  Paul’s mother held the door for him.

  He went inside and said, “Where is he?”

  “He’s upstairs in his room. His lawyer called, and after that, I don’t know what happened. I’m worried. He won’t come out.”

  Callaway raced up the stairs and knocked on a door, “Paul, it’s Lee. Can I come in?”

  There was no response.

  Callaway placed his ear to the door. He could hear movement inside. He knocked again. “Paul, we need to talk. I know you didn’t kill Kyla. I even spoke to Sharon, and she doesn’t think you did either.”

  The handle turned and the door opened a crack. Callaway saw Paul peering out. “You met Sharon?” Paul asked.

  “I did, yes.”

  “And she believes I didn’t do it?”

  “She knows you loved Kyla like your own and that you would never harm her. Now, can I come inside and talk to you?”

  The door swung open. The room was a mess. Clothes were on the floor, items were scattered all over, a lamp was on its side, and the furniture was in disorder.

  “Do you have any weapons at home?” Callaway asked.

  Paul looked at him, confused.

  “Do you have any guns?”

  Paul shook his head.

  Callaway spotted a knife on the nightstand.

  “You thinking about hurting yourself?” he asked.

  Paul lowered his head and sat on the bed. After a brief pause, he said, “I didn’t kill Pedro.”

  “I know you didn’t, but I need to know about the gun. It was registered to you.”