“Okay. I’ll have uniforms ask around, see if anyone saw anything. In the meantime, I’m going to talk to Langley down at the station if you want to be there, Stiles.”
Connor’s face was impassive, as usual. “I’ll meet you there.”
“I’ll walk you out, Police Commander,” Etta said.
Yep, there she went, up and down the stairs again.
I watched them leave together, Hunt’s stride deceptively slow and casual, with the coiled readiness of a predator, Etta’s light and quick.
Maybe Etta was like one of those tiny birds that flitted around the predator’s jaws to prove they could.
Connor’s gaze landed on me as soon as they cleared the door, and his mask relaxed a fraction. “Are you all right?”
“Sure. Better than being poisoned or shot or knocked out anyway.” I tried for a smile.
He sat down beside me. Close enough that his leg rested reassuringly against mine. “I’m not convinced losing a client or being threatened with human body parts is better. Just different. You’re allowed to not be okay.”
Tears pricked my eyes, but now wasn’t the time to let them fall. “What’s going on? Who’s Langley?”
“We got lucky. The prints from the first finger were in the system. They belonged to a recently deceased government worker. The dead are normally removed from the database, but thanks to a backlog, his hadn’t been processed yet. Another week, and they might have gotten away with it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The body the finger came from was donated to a medical science and education program. His cadaver was sent to a local university for medical students to learn on and was then supposed to be cremated. According to the university’s records, he was cremated. Langley was the person responsible for cremating him.”
My mind reeled. “Oh, wow.”
“Want to come and listen in on the interview?”
Hunt had driven away, which left the coast clear for me to leave with Connor. Even so, I paused when we met Etta on the landing. “Isn’t Hunt too old for you?”
She swatted my shoulder. “This is how you repay me for giving Connor a chance to comfort you? Pfft. Young people these days.”
“He’s very good-looking for an old coot,” I said, unswayed. “If you like the scary type. Which I know for a fact that you do.”
“Haven’t you got better things to do than harass me?”
“Are you blushing?” I countered. She wasn’t, but I knew she hated it on the rare occasions she did.
“Of course not.” Her cheeks tinged with the slightest hint of pink.
I grinned. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”
My grin faded as I hurried to catch up to Connor. That thumb was going to haunt my thoughts for a long time. Once we were both inside the cool leather interior of the SUV, Connor must have sensed my mood. “Would it cheer you up if I allow you to interrogate me?” he asked.
I stared at him, unsure if he was joking. He drove straight-backed in his navy dress shirt and black jeans, one arm on the wheel, the other resting on the stick shift. Calm. Competent. Compelling. The profile view of him was as appealing as the front, accentuating the perfect proportions of his features and the angle of his square jaw. His lashes and lips adding a touch of softness to the otherwise stern face.
“Will you answer questions on topics other than your bedroom prowess?” I asked, testing out his invitation.
He glanced over, and his expression was definitely warmer than normal. “Is there anything you’d prefer to learn?”
The words hung in the air like a challenge.
“Tell me about your family,” I said at last. The answer to that ought to be illuminating. I doubted I’d get many questions, so I had to make sure they were well spent.
He muttered something that sounded like “straight for the throat” and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel before answering.
I counted his fingers to make sure they were all still attached.
“My mom was a PI in her heyday. Retired now, which means she has far too much time to scheme against my sister and me. She met my dad when she was paid to investigate him. He was a foot soldier in the 24th Infantry Division and died in the Gulf War when I was ten.”
“Sorry.”
He shrugged. “It happens. Especially to infantry.”
There was no way he could feel so casual about it, but I was amazed he’d opened up at all. I wasn’t going to push.
“Mom was incredibly strong. Didn’t let us see her grieve much. She raised us alone and taught us the basics of PI work. We used to help her on simple surveillance jobs after school. I took to it, obviously. My sister became a mechanic.”
“What’s she like? Your sister?” His tone had lifted when he mentioned her.
“Cheerful. Lighthearted. She always tells me I’m stuffy.”
I sniggered.
“She’s exasperating too. Kind of like someone else I know.” His eyes flicked my way. “You get one more question.”
“Have you ever been married?”
“No.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“No.”
And that was that. His distraction had worked. The tantalizing glimpse into his life had given me a much-needed break from the case.
If I hadn’t owed every penny I earned to a loan shark, I would have paid good money to meet his family.
18
Connor drove past the police station and found a space to leave the SUV a block and a half away. I touched his arm before he got out. “Thank you.” His opening up had meant a lot to me, and I wanted him to know I didn’t take it for granted.
He gave me a nod.
As my mind returned to the case and I waited for the interview to start, I wondered whether Hunt would find it suspicious that Connor had opted not to use the parking lot. With any luck, he’d stay inside and not even have the chance to notice.
“Mrs. Langley, I’m Police Commander Hunt and this is Mr. Stiles, a consultant on this case. Do you know why you’re here today?”
“No?” The voice was high and nervous. Normal. Not like all the sociopaths in this investigation.
“You’re responsible for cremating the cadavers donated to your university, correct?”
“That’s right.” I imagined her licking her lips.
“Then how is it that I have two severed parts of one of those cadavers in my evidence room?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you sure about that? Because either way, you’re going to lose your job, but if you’re lying to me, you’re looking at criminal charges for selling human body parts and obstruction of justice in a homicide investigation.”
“Homicide?” she squeaked.
“Do you want to help a murderer, Mrs. Langley?”
“No. I…”
“If you tell us what you know, I’ll speak to the DA for you, ask them to go easy given you’re a first-time offender.”
I counted to one before she caved.
“She made me do it. I had no choice.”
“Who made you do it?”
“Ellen McCarthy. She knew I cheated on my husband.” Langley started sobbing. “It was just once. Years ago when we were all in college. But she threatened to tell him if I didn’t give her what she wanted.”
“What did she want?”
“Five fingers. She didn’t say what for. And I didn’t sell them to her. I would never do that! But I had to save my marriage. I didn’t have a choice.”
I felt sickened. First Jay and now Langley. McCarthy was good at making people feel like they didn’t have a choice. She really would be a suitable protégée for Coleman.
Hours later, Connor and Hunt were in the interrogation room again, and I was in the SUV with a cramp in my ass. Even so, I was happy to be sitting this one out. I couldn’t believe that McCarthy, the five-foot midget, had sent me flying then knocked me cold. That this was whom Jay and I had been scared of. Who I was still scared of.
What kind of person gift wrapped fingers? I’d never be able to look at a Christmas present the same way again.
And that wasn’t even McCarthy’s worst offense. All the evidence pointed toward her being Earnest’s murderer. For some reason she’d chosen to leak him information, then changed her mind and done what was needed to silence him forever.
How was it possible to extinguish a life so casually? And how the hell did she manhandle him into the abandoned building?
“Ms. McCarthy, you seem like a smart woman,” Hunt began, “so you must know how bad this looks for you. Right now we have people searching your home and office, and I’m guessing they’re going to find the burner phone you used to threaten Ms. Avery and hair that matches the one we retrieved from the scene of her assault. Even if they don’t, we have your friend Langley’s testimony that she provided you with the severed fingers that were delivered to Mr. Massey and Ms. Avery. And Massey’s testimony that you threatened Earnest Dunst’s life a few days before he was murdered.”
“I didn’t kill him.” McCarthy said the words calmly.
Hunt’s tone was dry. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t take you at your word.”
“Look, I might’ve made threats, but that’s all they were.”
“Most empty threats don’t involve human body parts, Ms. McCarthy.”
“That’s exactly why they involved body parts,” she countered. “I’ve observed Coleman for years, and in that time I’ve learned that power is all about belief. If you can make someone believe what you want, then you can make someone do what you want. Coleman likes to learn all about his opponents so he can exploit their innate beliefs, weaknesses, and temptations, but I didn’t have the time or knowledge to use that finesse here, so I made a small gesture to ensure they believed the threat was real. You should be applauding my method. It’s much less crude than killing people.”
“We’ll be sure to give you a prison cell with a view. If you didn’t murder Mr. Dunst. Why don’t you start from the beginning?”
“You haven’t scared me, gentlemen. I’ll tell you my story because it’s in my best interests to, not because of your intimidation tactics.”
“Then we’d appreciate it if you got on with it.”
Someone, and I was betting that someone was Ms. McCarthy, huffed.
“I’ve spent nine years of my life slaving away for Coleman. Organizing his schedule, writing his emails, everything but powdering his ass. I’m the one who does all the hard research so he can look superior and have the edge in meetings. But he’s always acted like his success has been achieved in a vacuum and hardly acknowledged my existence, except as some convenient AI machine made to serve him. For all his insight into his opponents, he never took the time to assess me. I was sick to death of it all. So while he rubbed his hands in glee over his next dirty endeavor, I handed Earnest the keys to destroy him and stood back to watch his kingdom fall.”
Wow. She had a flair for the dramatic. Maybe I should’ve guessed that from the fingers.
“How did you know Earnest?” Hunt asked.
“I knew him from when he used to work for Aptech, and I’d kept tabs on him since. I do it for everyone Coleman has a connection to. So I knew about Earnest’s whistle-blowing website, and it seemed like an excellent way to give Coleman the blow to his ego he needed. I might’ve helped him rise from the ashes, or I might’ve let him stay down. I hadn’t decided yet. But then a bit over a week and a half ago he acknowledged me. Told me he was aware I all but ran the place and he’d chosen me to take over the company when he planned to retire at the end of next year. So I had to get the keys back.”
“What’s the company worth?” Hunt asked.
“Three hundred million.”
“That sounds to me like ample motive for murder.”
“I didn’t need to murder him. I just had to get rid of the files. It wouldn’t matter what Earnest knew if he had no proof. He was far too scrupulous to make a claim without ensuring he could prove it beyond all reasonable doubt. That’s why he hadn’t published the article on Aptech already. He wanted to triple-check and verify everything I’d given him.”
“Then why did you tell Jay Massey that Earnest would die if he didn’t delete the hard drives?”
“Because from what I knew of Jay, it was what would motivate him the most. He loved Earnest. I didn’t think he’d be bribed to act against him, and he might hesitate to do it for his own safety, but how could he balk at saving the life of his dearest friend?” There was a quiet pause. “Oh stop looking at me like that. If I’d known Earnest was going to get himself murdered, I would’ve come up with a different threat so I wasn’t implicated, wouldn’t I?”
“Why not have Massey destroy the flash drive too?”
“Because I’d given Earnest the flash drive myself, and unlike his computer, the only information on it was what I was trying to contain. It pointed too directly to me, and I couldn’t trust that Jay wouldn’t look at it and figure it out. I was organizing a meeting with Earnest to get it back myself, but he died before it happened.”
Probably the phone call I remembered Earnest taking. The one from the burner phone.
“Which is why you were searching his apartment before you were interrupted by Ms. Avery.”
“Yes. I knew after she reported the break-in that I wouldn’t be able to go near the apartment again, so I had to motivate her to deal with it for me. Except she destroyed the wrong flash drive. Stupid fool.”
I puffed up in indignation, but no one could see or hear me. I’d have to make do with visualizing her itty-bitty ass in jail.
“What was on the flash drive?”
“You don’t know?” Triumph rang in her voice. “You haven’t located it yet, have you? Ah, well that’s excellent news, thank you.”
“I recollect you agreed to cooperate, Ms. McCarthy.”
“And I am. As far as it pertains to your murder investigation. In fact, I think that covers everything I have to say, so we can wrap it up here, or you can call my attorney.”
“Nothing you’ve said has proven your innocence, so it would be in your best interest to give us another lead. Do you have any idea who might’ve wanted Earnest dead?”
She huffed again. “Oh come on. He was a stubborn, wealthy perfectionist with agoraphobia, a drug history, and a website that toppled powerful people to financial ruin or worse. You can’t tell me you’re hurting for leads?”
McCarthy was right. We shouldn’t have been hurting for leads, but the deleted data and the flash drive had seemed too coincidental to not be related to Earnest’s death, so we’d followed them as far as they went. And it turned out, they were related to his death, but apparently they weren’t the cause of it.
Jay wouldn’t have deleted Earnest’s hard drives if he hadn’t gone missing, leaving his apartment unoccupied. McCarthy wouldn’t have broken into his apartment to retrieve the flash drive had he been alive to meet with. But what she’d said was true. Earnest would never have published the story without the evidence to back it. So if no one had killed him to stop his latest story coming out, who had, and why?
The sun had set long ago, so I sat in the dark while Hunt and Connor wrapped up the interview and pressed charges against Ms. McCarthy. Even though I was waiting for him, I started when Connor unlocked the door. One look at his face told me his mood was as black as mine. He rested a moment before sliding the key into the ignition.
Someone tapped on my window. With the interior light on, I couldn’t see who. I hesitated until Connor gave me a nod, then I rolled it down.
Fear thrummed through my veins when I recognized the figure.
“Ms. Avery.”
I swallowed hard.
“I thought I told you to stay the hell out of my case.”
“I have been. I was just—”
“I recognize the receiving end of a wire when I see one. Step out of the car.”
I opened the door and climbed out, my movements jerky with trepidation. H
unt watched on with the menace of a wounded grizzly.
Connor got out too and stepped in between us. “This is a little over the top, Commander—”
“Stand down, Stiles. You should know better than to bring her into this.” He snapped the cuffs on, and the reality of the situation hit me. As shocking and inescapable as the cold metal biting into my wrists. I was going to jail. Me. The closest I’d ever come to it before was that unpaid parking ticket that I’d lost in the mess of my bag once.
Connor wasn’t standing down. He was standing in Hunt’s way.
It didn’t matter. Hunt shouldered past him with enough force to push Connor back a step. “You’re lucky I don’t toss your ass in jail too,” he snarled, dragging me behind him.
Oh my gosh. I was really going to jail. My mouth opened and shut, trying to find words that would turn the situation around. But Hunt was unstoppable. Impenetrable. Criminal bruiser-for-hire, Mr. Black, was easier to reason with. There seemed something wrong about that.
“What are you charging her with?” Connor asked, striding after us.
“Nothing yet, but keep asking and I’ll write up a long list.”
That convinced Connor to stop.
Hunt marched me down the dark street without a word, then into the bright lights of the police station. The same station I’d walked through a few days ago, only now the few faces that looked my way held different expressions.
A tear leaked out of one eye, and humiliatingly, I couldn’t even brush it away as Hunt was still dragging me along by my cuffed hands. I shook my hair forward to cover my face and walked on. This time we didn’t stop at the interrogation box. We stopped in a long, narrow room that was in sore need of a new coat of paint.
I was looking at the paint to avoid looking at the barred row of cells.
It didn’t prevent the cells’ occupants from looking at me.
“Yoo-hoo!”
“What you in for?”
“I bet she’s a ho.”
The lucky policeman on jail duty stood up. “All right, enough.”
The Hunger Pains (An Eat, Pray, Die Humorous Mystery Book 2) Page 16
