“From what I’ve heard, she sells herself and brings you home the money. Seems to me you own her if she’s willing to do that.”
A smug look held on the cop’s face, but Tommy didn’t bite. All that practice being baited by Dad taught him to keep it cool. Besides, why shouldn’t he get the money? He allowed men to touch his woman. Shouldn’t be allowed to touch for nothing.
“Was she at the club last night?” the cop asked.
“Yeah.”
“Anyone in particular giving her attention?”
Tommy’s brow furrowed. “Why you asking that? Has something happened to her?”
“Answer the question, lover boy.”
“Screw you.” Tommy couldn’t think of anyone in particular, but he wasn’t about to let this jerk know. Let him work for it. “If she isn’t hurt, then why you lookin’ for her?”
“Just need to ask her a question or two.”
“About what?”
“Doesn’t really concern you.”
“Well, she could be anywhere, and I got things to do.”
The cop released a loud breath. “If she shows up, have her call me.” He pulled a card from his front pocket and laid it on the end table.
It’d hit the trash once he left. Tommy made sure to lock the door after the cop left. He tried Kimi’s phone again. Still no answer.
Something big was going down, and Kimi was apparently right in the middle of it.
Chapter 11
“Did you find out anything?” Tracy asked Swenson who’d returned to the interview room followed by a man in a blue suit.
“Nothing yet.” Swenson gave her a slight smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”
Tracy’s back tightened.
“I’d like to introduce you to Federal Agent Matthew Nicholson.” Swenson pointed to the man beside her. “He’s with the FBI.”
“The FBI.” Tracy’s pulse rate increased. She got up and paced the room. This was serious. She bit her lip to keep from crying. “You think someone has DJ or you wouldn’t have brought in the FBI.”
“Please sit.” He used his palm to gesture toward the chair across the table.
After a few seconds, she lowered herself into the chair. “Do you think something bad’s happened?”
“Not necessarily,” the agent responded. “Most people don’t realize that the FBI gets involved fairly quickly when a child under twelve goes missing. We have better resources than most of the local police.”
“What can you do that hasn’t already been done?” Tracy leaned forward. Maybe now they’d get somewhere.
“I’m with what is called the FBI CARD Team.”
“Never heard of it.”
“Most people haven’t.” His green eyes lit up. “Every detective on the team is a seasoned investigator who only works missing children’s cases. We come in no matter the circumstances, whether it’s a parent involved kidnapping, a stranger, or unknown. This is our specialty. As such we have a very good success rate.”
Kidnapping. The word caused Tracy’s stomach to sour. DJ was officially gone. Her thumb and forefinger flicked against each other at a feverish pace.
“You said Daniel would never hurt DJ?” Swenson interrupted Tracy’s thoughts.
“I’m sorry.” Tracy shook her head to regain her focus.
“Would Daniel ever hurt DJ?” Swenson repeated.
Tracy looked between the two then fixed her eyes on Swenson. “No, of course not.” Her voice sounded hesitant, even to herself. She was sure the two picked up on it.
“You might not know your husband as well as you think you do.” The agent leaned his arms on the table. The sleeves of his dark blue suit rose to reveal a large watch on his wrist. “After all he’s not paying your bills.”
“I’m sure he’s doing that because of the divorce. Make me suffer so he gets what he wants. Once I give this information to my attorney, the judge will order him to get things current.”
Swenson slid a closed file across the table. “What can you tell us about this?”
“What is it?” Tracy jerked open the cover. Inside laid a two-hundred-fifty thousand dollar life insurance policy. The date was one day after she threw Daniel out of the house.
The beneficiary was Daniel J. Allen, Sr., and the insured was Daniel (“DJ”) Joseph Allen, Jr.
Chapter 12
Myrna McKilty paced her living room while she waited for someone to pick up on the other end of the telephone. What happened to the good music companies used to play while you waited on hold instead of all this new nonsense?
The sun shone through the window next to her chair but did little to keep the cold from sneaking through the glass. She tucked her shawl around her shoulders. Ginger jumped onto the nearby rocking chair then shuffled to the windowsill. The tabby had been a stray that showed up one day. A vacationer either lost their pet and didn’t care enough to come back or someone dumped him. Frankly, anyone who treated such a sweet animal that way should be taken out and left in the woods themselves.
She’d named him based on the orange-brown color of his coat. He’d been good company since she’d found him three years ago.
And as long as he stayed out of Harold’s room, he was more than welcome in the house.
“Always seem to be waiting these days.” She stroked the cat’s fur. Her nose wrinkled at his sour smell. “You are definitely going to need a bath when I get done.”
“Regions Bank, this is Cami,” the chipper voice asked. “How may I help you?
“This is Myrna McKilty. I need to check my account balance.” She gave the girl her number.
“It says you have three dollars and twenty-four cents.”
“So my husband’s pension check hasn’t come yet?” The mortgage and electric were now due.
“It doesn’t appear so.” The girl paused then said, “You can check your account by way of our automated system if it would be easier. I can show you how.”
“I’ve tried. I’m just no good at it.”
“Would you like me to keep an eye out and call you when it’s deposited?”
“I would really appreciate that. Thank you.” Myrna hung up. “Automated system, humph. Press one wrong button and you end up lost.”
She stared at the white cabin across the street. How could Esther have sold out to the government like she did? The only thing kept was the cabin. All that land sold for a state park. Too bad they didn’t share any of the proceeds they received. Such greedy people. Now she needed permission to plant anything over there, yet her taxes helped fund it.
Were the park service people playing games to get her land for a fraction of the price? Was that why there’d been no pension check. Not that she wouldn’t sell for the right offer.
She wrung her hands. The last thing she needed was late fees on top of everything else. She hated having to count her pennies without Harold’s company dragging their feet. Too bad she could no longer rely on him for help. Not that he ever worried. He’d say there were “other things to do besides worry.”
And at that moment, he’d be right.
She glanced at the Sue Grafton mystery novel on the end table. G is for Gumshoe. This would be her third time through the series. As much as she’d like to stay near the fire and curl up with Kinsey, it’d have to wait too.
She sucked in a deep breath to calm her nerves and headed to the closet where she pulled out a bedsheet. Not one of her good ones, a cheap one she’d bought when they’d first moved from New Hampshire would do. She walked to the spare bedroom and opened the door. The odor caused her to step back and her eyes to water. Probably never get that smell out. She rushed to her room and pulled a scarf from the dresser. After tying it around her nose and mouth, she returned to the bedroom where she spread the sheet out on the floor. She got down on her hands and knees and pushed.
It took all her strength to roll the body on top of the sheet.
Her heart raced. Heavier than she realized.
“Mrrr.” Gin
ger stepped onto the sheet.
“Get out of the way or you might find yourself wrapped up too.”
She spun the top of the sheet into a knot then did the same to the bottom. He looked like a warped German sausage. She tugged and pulled, pulled and tugged until she got the bundle to the back door.
Her heart pounded. She took a second to catch her breath before she opened the door. The cool air slapped the sweat on her face causing a chill.
So much for warm Florida weather.
Glancing around, she made sure no one was about. Not that there would be, especially in the backyard. That was the best part of autumn. Every stranger was noticeable. Unlike during spring and summer when the place filled up with tourists.
She used to have Harold to keep watch in case anyone showed up unexpectedly. But there was no way for him to keep an eye out now.
She slid the body into the wheelbarrow beside the porch and pushed it to the shed.
Chapter 13
Tracy followed Swenson into the hallway. The file with the insurance policy swung from the detective’s hand. A ploy to see Tracy’s reaction, she assumed. The policy probably wasn’t even real. They had plenty of money.
At least until the other women came into Daniel’s life. And it appeared to be Daniel’s signature.
“Wait here,” Swenson instructed. “And we’ll get you a ride back to the house.”
She left Tracy near a window looking out on the parking lot. A photograph of the gray-haired sheriff hung to Tracy’s left. The picture gave no answers to the million questions racing through her mind.
The timing of the policy seemed so…suspicious. No wonder Daniel hadn’t wanted the police involved.
It had to be a ruse to make everyone think someone had killed DJ. She couldn’t believe he’d harm his child for money. Or would he? What if Daniel discovered the police were on to him? Would he hurt DJ to ensure his own safety?
What if they weren’t as well off as she thought? Daniel’s financial information for the divorce showed a lot less money than she thought. And his business was only worth about fifty thousand.
Would he hurt DJ for a few dollars?
Her hands curled into fists. Did he think he’d get away with this and then placing the blame on her? She paced the hallway, her thumb and forefinger doing their dance.
A phone rang behind a closed door to her left, and a voice mumbled. She turned her eyes from the picture on the wall to the dull sheen on the floor then to the window at the far end of the hallway. Anywhere to keep from thinking the worst. Irritation rode up and down her back with each passing second they forced her to remain in this place. She needed to find DJ and protect him from his greedy father. An image of the knife flashed into her mind.
Was it too late? She reached out to the wall to keep from toppling over.
Twelve years ago, at age nineteen, she was a sophomore at the University of Florida. She was heading back to her dorm room when a football fell in front of her face. A young man ran up and grabbed the ball. They spoke for a couple of minutes, and she agreed to meet him for lunch in the cafeteria the next week.
She’d fallen in love almost instantly. Those soft blue eyes and thick dark hair. His rugged laugh. He had an earth-shattering smile that melted most women; her included. He had his choice of girls on the campus, and he chose her. It wasn’t until years later she realized it was because they looked good together. Daniel would never have a wife who was overweight or ugly. She had to be pretty and blonde.
Now he’d traded her in for a newer model—or he would once he finished test driving.
Shortly after their wedding, his parents died in a house fire leaving behind millions of dollars which he used to open his own business. It’d taken off almost instantly.
For years, he’d been wonderful, killing the bugs in the house, making her laugh. He even put the toilet seat down after each use. But then there was that night she overcooked his steak. He called her stupid, and she cried. He apologized. She believed him.
A lot of name-calling since then. He’d grab her and shove her away, even get close to her face, but never hit her, until a month ago. She reached up and touched her cheek. That day her marriage truly ended.
DJ had stepped in between them. Daniel’s eyes turned dark. She shuddered recalling how angry he’d been before he stormed out and tore out of the driveway. She and DJ spent the night at Jenny’s.
The next morning Daniel called and apologized. His words no longer meant anything to her, but DJ believed him.
Long before he hit her, even with his occasional outbursts, for most of their marriage, she’d considered Daniel a good husband. It wasn’t until the porn that she thought of him as bad. And the slap only confirmed it. But did a bad husband also mean a bad father?
Maybe he was right, and she really was stupid. She closed her eyes and tried to pull herself together.
She couldn’t stand around waiting any longer. As she rounded the corner looking for the exit door, she caught sight of Daniel, his face buried in his phone. An officer walked up to him, and Daniel shoved the cell in his pocket. Once the officer left, Tracy and Daniel’s eyes met. Anger pushed away any doubt from her mind. She rushed up to him.
“Where is he?” she screamed. Her palms slammed into his chest shoving him back a couple of steps. “What did you do to our son? Was it worth a lousy couple hundred thousand dollars?”
She swung out, but he caught her wrist in the air and pressed her into the wall with his forearm against her chest. His eyes darker than that night a month ago.
“Ow.” She tried to squirm away. “You’re hurting me.”
He tightened his grip and got close to her face. “Let me make one thing clear,” he hissed. “If I kill anyone for money, it’ll be you.”
Chapter 14
The police officer led Tracy out of the station. At the car, he held the passenger door open. Her insides burned. Daniel had to be behind DJ’s disappearance. At least, the police saw firsthand his violent temper. One even had to pull him off her. Red marks had appeared on her wrist from his tight hold. Soon they would bruise. She’d take a picture to show her attorney, but, first things first.
The car bounced when the officer sat in the driver’s seat.
“Would it be okay if we made a stop on the way back?” she asked.
“Sure.”
Silence filled the car until they reached the Wells Fargo Bank four blocks from her home.
“I’ll be a second.” She got out of the vehicle and rushed inside.
In front of her stood a woman with a small girl in her arms who smelled of sour milk. A lump formed in Tracy’s throat. What would become of this child? Would her father do something dreadful just for insurance funds?
Tracy swallowed back a sob.
“May I help you?” The next available teller looked at her.
She walked up to the window. “Yes, I’d like to get into my safe deposit box please.”
“I’ll need to see your I.D.”
“Tracy took out her wallet and showed the woman her driver’s license.”
“Very good. Come this way.” The woman led Tracy to a room in the back. Small boxes lined the walls, each with a number. The teller pulled out a sign-in sheet. “Your box number?”
“Seventeen. Here’s my key.”
The woman used both Tracy’s key and the master to pull the long thin box from the container. “You can use one of the rooms in the back for privacy. Let me know when you’re finished.”
“Thanks.”
After shutting the door behind her, she placed the box on the small table connected to the back wall. She checked above to make sure no cameras were viewing her before she opened the lid. Their wills rested on top. She shoved hers in her purse. Once things settled down, she’d have to get it updated. Her insurance beneficiary also, especially with Daniel’s threat.
She picked up DJ’s birth certificate. He’d been so small when he was born. Just five-and-a-half pounds. Growing up
too fast.
The memory of a discussion she and DJ had about a month ago rushed through her mind. He was sitting at the island in the kitchen coloring while she cooked him breakfast.
“Mom, where will I live if something happened to you?” he’d asked.
She startled at the question. Not one of his usual queries about the sun, moon, or sky. “Why would anything happen to me?”
“An accident or something.” He shrugged without looking up from his picture.
“You’d go live with your dad.” She stepped toward the island.
“What if he couldn’t take care of me?”
“Why would he not be able to take care of you?”
“I’m just wondering.” He looked up at her with those bright blue eyes.
She sat down next to him. “You’ve never worried about this before, have you?”
“No.” He put his crayon down. His brow furrowed. He looked so much like his father. “We got a new boy in school who’s living with a family here in town. He says they’re his foster family. His mom and dad can’t take care of him so he has to live with strangers.”
“That would never happen to you, DJ. Your dad or I will always be here with you.”
“But what if you can’t? Would I have to go live with strangers?”
“No. You’d live with your Aunt Jenny and Pawpaw.”
“Good.” He’d returned to his book without another word. But the conversation had unnerved her. A child shouldn’t worry about where he would live.
Now it was her turn to worry. What would she do if anything happened to him? She folded the certificate and placed it in her purse as well.
She shuffled through some documents until she got to several stock certificates at the bottom of the box. Microsoft stocks bought by Daniel’s father before the company had taken off, now worth a lot of money. She pulled the stocks out and stuffed them in her purse. The inventory list Daniel had given her lawyer hadn’t included the shares. She’d held off telling her own attorney, waiting for the right time in case she needed the information.
Fade to the Edge Page 4
