A Killer Past

by Maris Soule

  ‘And are you worried about her safety?’ Jack hadn’t sensed a threat to Mrs Harrington. To himself, yes, but not to Mrs Harrington. But maybe Mrs Williams knew more.

  ‘Cleopatra, get down off the counter.’

  Ella Williams yelled the command, and Jack jerked the phone away from his ear.

  ‘Just a minute,’ Mrs Williams said, and he heard the clunk of her phone being dropped or set down. In the distance, he could hear her scolding what he finally realized was a cat. A full minute went by before she again spoke into the phone. ‘Now, where were we?’

  Jack tried a different approach. ‘What do you know about this man who’s in the house with Mrs Harrington?’

  ‘Why, nothing. Nothing at all. That’s why I called you.’

  ‘So you’re simply reporting the car and that a man you usually don’t see in the neighborhood has gone into Mrs Harrington’s house. Is that right?’

  ‘You told us to call if we saw anything unusual,’ she reminded him. ‘And last night her house was broken into.’

  ‘You drove her home, didn’t you? Did you see anything unusual when you dropped her off?’

  ‘The door to her garage was up a little.’

  ‘And it wasn’t when you picked her up earlier?’

  ‘Of course not, why would she leave it up? I know there’s not much in her garage, not anymore. There used to be. Oh my, her husband came home with the craziest things, and he never threw anything away. But Harry’s gone now, and her son cleaned everything out. I mean, I think she has a few tools in there… . Gardening tools. Mary has the nicest flower gardens every summer. They’re all dead now … the flowers, I mean. What the frost didn’t get the snow the other day got. Even my—’

  ‘Mrs Williams,’ Jack interrupted, afraid she would go on and on. ‘Did you go into the house with Mrs Harrington last night? Did you see signs that her house had been broken into?’

  ‘No. When I dropped her off, we noticed the garage door was up a little, and I asked her if she wanted me come inside with her. She said that wouldn’t be necessary. She said she probably didn’t latch the door down tight enough and that’s why it was up. It was only later when I saw the police car that I realized there was a problem.’

  ‘Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.’

  ‘I … Of course … Do you want me to call when that man leaves her house?’

  ‘No. No, that won’t be necessary. But do make a note of it,’ he told Mrs. Williams. ‘Just in case we need to know.’

  ‘I will. Just let me know when you … Cleopatra, what did I say!’

  Jack hung up before she totally blew out his eardrum.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  THE CHILLY AIR and darkness outside Mary’s kitchen window were in sharp contrast to the warmth and festive atmosphere inside. For hours, David and she had been sharing stories from their pasts. Now the aroma of honey-glazed chicken thighs baking in the oven, along with red potatoes, and fresh green beans cooking on the stove, filled the entire house. David had removed his suit coat and placed it on the empty chair next to him, but he hadn’t taken off his shoulder holster or removed the Glock it held.

  Sometime around four o’clock, their mugs of coffee and tea had been replaced with glasses of wine. ‘It’s five o’clock somewhere,’ Mary had said as she poured a Syrah for David and a Chardonnay for herself.

  By six o’clock, both of their glasses had been refilled twice, and Mary knew she needed to eat soon or she’d be flat on her face. ‘Remember the winery in Tuscany,’ she said with a giggle, ‘when I had to hide in that vat of grapes?’

  David nodded and chuckled. ‘And came out with grape stains on your hands and feet.’

  ‘And clothes,’ she reminded him. ‘I never could get that dress clean. Had to toss it.’

  ‘I also remember you almost fell on your keister when you kicked the gun out of Mario Bertoloni’s hand.’

  ‘Oh, yes, Mario. What an ass he was.’ She laughed at the memory. ‘What a giant. I doubt I could get my foot that high again.’

  Wondering if she could, Mary stood and moved over to the counter. Holding onto the edge, she kicked up her leg, karate style. The top edge of her shoe actually reached shoulder height before her loafer went flying off her foot and crashed onto the table, knocking over her wine glass and the Chardonnay she hadn’t finished.

  ‘Oops.’ She laughed and did a one-shoe hobble over to grab a towel from next to the sink. ‘Glad it was my wine and not the red that spilled.’

  David had already straightened her glass, and Mary quickly sopped up the liquid on the table and floor.

  ‘You’re still pretty limber,’ he said and refilled her glass from the bottle of Chardonnay.

  ‘For an old lady, you mean?’ She tossed the towel back onto the counter and retrieved her loafer.

  ‘I read the report on those two boys you wiped out. You haven’t lost it.’

  Eyebrows raised, she looked at him. ‘How’d you see that report?’

  ‘We have our ways. Remember?’

  ‘And reading that report you knew it was me?’

  ‘Your Sergeant Rossini started checking into your background right after that incident. It didn’t take much to make the connection.’

  ‘That night I was surprised by how much I did remember. It’s been a long time.’

  ‘That article in the paper said you exercise regularly.’

  ‘Yes, but I haven’t taken any martial arts classes other than tai chi, since—’ The sound of a key in her front door stopped Mary. Only two people had keys to her house: Ella and her son, Robby.

  She wasn’t surprised when the front door opened and a male voice called out, ‘Mother?’

  ‘In the kitchen, dear,’ she called back. ‘Come on in. I have company.’

  David stood and quickly slipped his jacket back on, covering his shoulder holster and gun. By the time Robby entered the kitchen, David was standing beside her. Mary was proud of her son and his financial success, but she smiled at the contrast between the two men. David dwarfed her son, both in size and presence.

  When she’d been younger, she’d wondered what it would be like to have David’s child. He’d been twenty-two and she’d been twenty-eight when the agency paired them as a team. David had been pure masculine virility, and her biological clock had started ticking. But working together they’d decided it would be safer to avoid any romantic entanglements. So she’d forced herself to think of him as the younger brother she’d never had, and she supposed he saw her as the older sister.

  ‘Robby, I’d like you to meet David Burrows, a friend from a long, long time ago,’ she said, amused by the stunned look on her son’s face. ‘David, this is my son, Robert Harrington.’

  David nodded and extended his hand. ‘Do you go by Robby or Robert?’

  ‘Mom calls me Robby,’ her son said, hesitating a moment before shaking David’s hand. ‘My wife calls me Robert. So you knew my mother when?’

  ‘Back when I was traveling in Europe,’ Mary said, hoping David would let her lead the conversation.

  David nodded. ‘She became like my big sister. Told me where the best eating places were, cheapest pensions, and helped me figure out currency exchanges.’ He looked at her. ‘That’s easier now with so many countries using the euro.’

  ‘Every so often our paths would cross,’ she said, which was the truth. Even though they’d only worked a few assignments together, she’d helped with his training, and their paths had crossed other times.

  ‘And what brings you to Rivershore?’ Robby asked, the question loaded with curiosity.

  ‘Your mother, of course.’ David winked at her. ‘I saw her picture in the paper a few weeks ago, and when business took me to Chicago, I knew I had to drive over here and say hello.’

  ‘So you’re not staying long.’

  It was a statement, not a question. Or maybe it was an order. Mary frowned at her son. ‘Robby, that’s none of your business.’

  ‘It’s
…’ He glared at David, then looked at her. ‘If Dad were alive …’

  ‘He’d be sharing a glass of wine with David and me, but since he’s not …’ She wasn’t about to make excuses to her son. ‘Was there a reason you stopped by? Would you like a glass of wine? Dinner?’

  Robby looked at the two glasses and two nearly empty bottles of wine on the table, then back at her. ‘Are you drunk, Mother?’

  ‘No.’ Though she had a feeling her cheeks were flushed, and she wished she could sit down again.

  ‘I stopped by,’ Robby said, watching her closely, ‘because I heard the police were here last night.’

  ‘Oh.’ She smiled, hoping she looked like someone who didn’t care. ‘How did you hear that?’

  ‘Ella called me today. She said you were robbed.’ He glanced into the living room where her TV sat in its usual spot. ‘What did they get?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Nothing at all. But they did come in through the garage door. You know the one you keep saying you’re going to fix. The one that won’t open using the remote and won’t latch properly even when it’s pushed down.’

  If he got her message, he ignored it. ‘But you’re all right?’

  ‘I’m fine. I nailed the garage door shut today.’

  ‘OK, OK. I’ll fix it this weekend.’ He glanced at the stairway and up to where his bedroom used to be. ‘You’re sure they took nothing?’

  ‘Nothing as far as I can tell.’ Or as far as she was going to tell. ‘The police think the person or persons who broke in probably fled when they heard people coming back from the meeting last night.’

  Robby shook his head. ‘You should have called me, Mom.’

  ‘And what would you have done? Told me to call the police. Right?’

  ‘Yes, but …’ He sighed in frustration. ‘I keep telling you, Mom, you shouldn’t be living here alone. Who knows what could happen to you.’

  The way he looked directly at David, Mary was sure her son was including David in the possibility of something bad happening to her. ‘I’m fine,’ she insisted. ‘And I’m not moving into a nursing home.’

  ‘Shoreside isn’t a nursing home. If you moved there …’

  ‘I know, I know,’ she interrupted. ‘I’d have all the comforts of home, I’d be closer to you and Clare, and when I do become feeble, everything would be in place for them to plop me into their nursing facility.’

  ‘You make it sound like a death sentence.’

  ‘Isn’t it?’ To her it certainly sounded like one. She’d visited residents at Shoreside. Seen the old ladies sitting around with their blank stares and drool dribbling down their chins. A person had no privacy there. They ate in a community dining room. The rooms were right next to each other, and the walls were so thin you could hear your neighbor’s TV.

  ‘I’m not moving, and that’s that.’ She looked toward her front door. ‘If you’re not staying for dinner, you’d better head home. You know how Clare doesn’t like you coming home late.’

  Her son’s nostrils flared, and Mary knew she’d hit a nerve. As she’d intended. In a way, he was in his own prison.

  Robby didn’t move. Instead he turned to David. ‘It’s been nice meeting you. I assume you’re driving back to Chicago tonight. You’ll probably want to leave soon. Traffic can be a bear.’

  Mary tried not to smile when David said, ‘Oh, I’m not leaving. Not tonight, at least. Your mother and I have a lot of catching-up to do.’

  ‘Lots of great memories to share,’ she said, and motioned toward the front door. ‘Always good to see you, Robby. Thanks for your concern, and say hi to Clare and Shannon.’

  Her son didn’t move, his gaze switching from David to her and then back to David. ‘But…?’ He let the word hang in the air until he finally gave a deep sigh. ‘If you’re sure.’

  ‘I’m sure,’ she said, though she wasn’t sure of what.

  ‘Then I’ll see you this weekend … when I fix the garage door.’ He started for the front door, then paused and looked back. ‘Don’t be surprised if Shannon shows up. She’s still sure she can talk you into a trip to Europe. At least now she’s talking about simply going in the summer.’

  ‘She’s always welcome, and she can talk all she’d like, but I don’t think I want to go back to Europe.’ She glanced at David and grinned. ‘Some things simply shouldn’t be repeated. Right, David?’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  JACK WAS ON his third beer when Officer Jennifer Mendoza came into the Shores. She paused for a moment, then smiled and headed his way, taking the stool next to him at the bar. ‘Coffee,’ she ordered, then turned to Jack. ‘I thought I’d find you here.’

  What could he say? He was predictable, if nothing else.

  ‘I have a cousin,’ she went on, not waiting for a response. ‘Actually a second cousin. His mother has been ill, so my mother and I stopped by their place this afternoon with a casserole for their dinner. Carlos is seventeen, a senior at Rivershore High. He’s told me he wants to go into law enforcement or maybe be a lawyer, so he’s always asking me questions about my job. Today it was the other way around. While my mother talked to his mother, Carlos took me out back.

  ‘He said he was in the school john the other day and overheard some Latinos talking about teaching an old lady a lesson. He said they didn’t mention any names, but one said he knew where she lived. Carlos also heard them complaining about that drug bust Stewart made a couple weeks ago. I guess they’d been planning on using that cocaine to pay for some guns they’ve ordered.’

  The bit about the guns interested Jack. ‘Did your cousin say when they’re getting these guns?’

  ‘No. I asked, but he didn’t know. He said he’d keep his ears open.’

  ‘I hope you told him not to be too obvious.’ Jack liked the idea that her cousin was interested in a career in law enforcement, but he didn’t want the boy putting his life in danger.

  ‘I told him.’ She nodded a thank-you when the barkeeper delivered her coffee. ‘Carlos is smart. He knows when to keep his mouth shut.’

  Jack waited until Jennifer had her first sip of coffee. Although it had been years ago, he still remembered working the graveyard shift. He’d lived on coffee back then.

  He glanced down at his beer.

  Now it seemed he lived on beer and Scotch. If he wasn’t careful, he’d turn into an alki.

  He pushed his glass away.

  ‘Another one?’ the bartender asked.

  Jack shook his head and turned to Jennifer. ‘Tell me about that B and E call you answered on Maple last night.’

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Anything seem suspicious to you?’

  She smiled. ‘Like why wasn’t anything taken? Yeah, I wondered what was up, especially since there were no signs of forced entry, other than with the garage door. The old lady … Mrs Harrington … she wasn’t even that upset, other than she wouldn’t go down into the basement. She said she’d once had a bad experience in a basement, and the way she was acting, I believed her.’

  ‘I understand she refused to be fingerprinted.’

  ‘Yeah, that was weird, too, but we really couldn’t force her to, especially since we didn’t find any fingerprints on the doorknobs.’

  ‘None at all?’

  ‘Not one.’ She cocked her head toward Jack. ‘So what do you think? Is the woman loco? Did she pry that door up herself?’

  If last night’s incident had been the first time Jack had heard about Mary Harrington, he might have said yes, but over the weeks, he’d seen too many facets of the woman to consider her daft. ‘You want my opinion?’ he said. ‘I think that woman is sharper than either of us. Something went down last night, something she’s not telling us.’

  Something he wanted to know.

  Jack pushed himself off his bar stool, grabbed his change from the counter – leaving a tip for the bartender – and gave Jennifer’s shoulder a pat. ‘I understand you’re going solo tonight. Take care, and t
hanks for letting me know what your cousin overheard. Let me know if you hear anything more.’

  He knew he should go home, but home was an empty, lonely place. Once in his car, Jack drove toward the west side of town. Slowly he cruised down Archer Street, paying particular attention to the area where the two boys were injured. As far as Jack could tell, the abandoned houses were empty and all was calm in the occupied homes. Of course, one never knew what went on behind closed doors. There could be a domestic fight occurring in one, incest in another, a robbery being planned in yet another.

  From Archer Street, he traveled along Oak Street. Here there were fewer houses for sale and none that looked abandoned. Two teenaged boys were on the sidewalk in front of one house, talking. They turned and waved as he passed. He blinked his headlights and drove on.

  He saw the white Impala the moment he turned onto Maple Street, still parked in the same place. He’d bet Ella Williams was watching it, waiting for the driver to leave so she could report the departure time to the police.

  So Agent David Burrows was still with Mary Harrington. Jack glanced at the clock on his dash. 9.05. Was the man going to spend the night?

  That’s none of your business, he told himself. If Mary Harrington wanted to spend the night with Burrows, why should it matter to him? She was certainly an attractive woman for her age, and Burrows was good-looking. Younger than her, Jack figured, but not all that much younger. The guy dressed well. Drove one of the more expensive rental cars.

  And is scary as hell, he silently added, still confused by his gut reaction to the man.

  It was the guy’s eyes – the look he’d given Jack – along with the guy’s body language. Agent David Burrows reminded Jack of a cobra, poised and ready to strike. Coiled energy. Danger.

  Jack gave himself a shake.

  ‘You’re an idiot,’ he said aloud as he drove closer to Mary Harrington’s house. Burrows was no cobra, Mrs Harrington obviously knew him, and there was no reason to suspect the man was a killer.