The kitchen was larger than mine and obviously the center of family life. An additional fireplace with a love seat in front filled one corner. A curving breakfast bar separated the kitchen area from an alcove with built-in seating bordering the bay window. Will was sitting on the farthest edge of the cushioned bench so that his legs could stretch out unhindered by the pedestal base. His sandy-haired father sat across from him with the metro section of the Houston Chronicle spread out on the table. Probably reading about last night's murder.
''Sam, fetch Abby a chair from the dining room, would you?'' Annabelle Knight said.
Sam Knight stood and smiled, as did his son. Weird seeing them together. Mr. Knight couldn't be more than two inches taller than me, which put him at about five-six or -seven. Then there was monster Will. He was so muscular and tall, he could have picked up his dad under one arm and his little bit of a mom under the other and jogged a couple miles.
''Morning, ma'am,'' Mr. Knight said before leaving to get the chair.
''Hey, Abby,'' Will said, his voice sleepy, his lids heavy with fatigue, though not heavy enough to mask his pale amber eyes. Bet the UT girls liked having this guy on campus.
''William Knight, is that how you address a young woman?'' his mother said.
''I told him to call me Abby, so it's fine,'' I said quickly.
''Then it's 'Good morning, Abby.' Not 'hey.' '' But she smiled a loving smile in her son's direction when he offered his sheepish ''Yes, ma'am'' reply.
Mr. Knight arrived with a maple dining chair and placed it facing the window and next to Will.
''Thanks,'' I said.
''My pleasure.'' Mr. Knight sat back down. I saw that his scrambled eggs and sausage were untouched, and the paper did indeed have a headline atop the metro section that blared WOMAN FOUND MURDERED BEHIND ESPRESSO BAR.
Mr. Knight tapped the paper. ''Terrible thing. When he was in high school, Will and I used to catch college hoops on cable at a sports bar right near this place.''
So that's why Verna Mae chose the Last Drop for our meeting. She'd probably been there watching for a glimpse of Will more than once, if I had her figured right.
''Abby,'' Mr. Wright went on, ''do you know anything more than what the newspaper says? The policeman who called last night mentioned you were at the scene.''
''I was. Verna Mae phoned me to meet her, but unfortunately I never found out what she wanted to talk about,'' I said.
Mrs. Knight moved a plate with eggs, toast and two sausage patties in front of me. ''This is awful. That poor woman.''
Her husband slid over so she could sit beside him.
Mrs. Knight said, ''Will and several of his old high school friends were watching the NBA play-off game when the officer called. I have to say, I was a little upset when the sergeant asked if Will had been out during the early evening. He hadn't, of course. He'd been looking forward to this get-together with his friends all week.'' The doorbell rang, and Mrs. Knight squeezed her eyes shut. ''It's those awful reporters. I know it.''
''Let me handle this,'' Mr. Knight said.
Will's mother let her husband out. As he jogged from the kitchen, his small potbelly jiggling under his warmup jacket, she called, ''Tell them to leave us alone.''
''Mom, chill, okay?'' Will said. ''They're just doing their job.''
''Tough living with a celebrity, huh?'' I said.
''The reporters don't bother me all that much,'' Will said. ''Since we didn't win the Big Dance, they've pretty much left me alone.''
''Big Dance?'' I said.
''The NCAA tournament,'' Will answered.
Mrs. Knight said, ''Didn't win it this year. Will's heading for UT for basketball camp in a couple days. He'll do weight training and meet with a nutritionist, so he'll be a force to reckon with on the court. Then they'll go all the way next season.''
''Mom, we're a team. It's not only about me,'' said Will.
Mr. Wright returned, but not with a reporter on his heels. It was Jeff.
My chair made an awful scraping sound when I pushed away from the table and stood.
''Uh, hi,'' I said.
Jeff looked me square in the eyes for what seemed like a long time but was probably no more than a second.
''I got an invite for breakfast,'' I said.
''I see.'' His expression told me he was sure they hadn't called me on a whim at this hour. He looked back and forth between Will's parents. ''Just wanted to meet you folks face-to-face and apologize for upsetting you last night.''
''You're Sergeant Kline? The one who phoned?'' asked Mrs. Knight.
''Yes, ma'am.'' His tie was loosened, his sports jacket wrinkled, and he looked so damn tired I felt guilty for my four hours of sleep.
''You have nothing to apologize for,'' she said. ''You didn't murder that poor woman. God knows, I've been praying for her soul. If not for her, Will might never have come into our lives.'' Her eyes filled with tears.
''Mom,'' Will said. ''I was supposed to end up with you no matter what.''
She smiled sadly and nodded.
Jeff reached out a hand to Will. ''Jeff Kline.''
I noted that despite his exhaustion Jeff had enough energy for a huge smile and a vigorous handshake. Plus he'd introduced himself with his first name. Hmmm. I think the man is smitten.
''Fantastic last game in March despite the loss,'' Jeff said.
Oh, yes. This was a love story in the making.
''Thanks, but we've got an awesome point guard. 'Course you know that.''
''You had thirty-four points, right?'' Jeff went on. ''And how many blocked shots?''
I cleared my throat. ''Um, my breakfast is getting cold.''
Mrs. Knight held out another loaded plate for Jeff, and Mr. Knight had snuck off for an additional chair.
We crowded around the table and ate and talked about basketball. It was sort of like the first day of my immersion Spanish class at the University of Houston, the one I dropped after a week. I didn't understand a word of what Jeff and the Knights were saying. I only knew they all spoke the language but me.
When we were through eating and Mrs. Knight refused my offer to help her clean up the dishes, Jeff addressed Will and his dad. ''As you probably know, Ms. Rose identified Verna Mae Olsen's body last night. I assume she informed you that Mrs. Olsen left her property to you, Will.''
''I did no such thing,'' I said. How I wanted to punch Jeff about now. I'd hoped to ease into that particular revelation.
Meanwhile, Mr. Knight's jaw had dropped, and I heard utensils crashing behind me in the kitchen.
Will said it all with his astonished, ''What?''
Jeff looked genuinely surprised, and maybe even a tad embarrassed now that he realized I hadn't already spilled these particular beans. Beans. Yuck. I'd never before considered that expression might be a reference to coffee beans.
Mrs. Knight came rushing back to join us, wiping her reddened hands on a checkered dish towel. ''That's why you're here? To recheck our son's alibi because you think he expected to inherit money from a stranger? Money he knew nothing about until this minute?''
''Ma'am, I have to contact or interview everyone who spoke with the victim recently,'' Jeff said. His throat was all blotchy above his collar. ''A phone call isn't enough.''
''Will would never harm anyone,'' a red-faced Mrs. Knight said.
Jeff had regrouped and returned to his calm cop mode. ''I never said he did.''
He had slipped up by not talking to me first, though. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but I suspected his mistake had more to do with Will the Sports Hero. Seems I had plenty to learn about this aspect of the man in my life.
Mrs. Wright said, ''I think you should apologize to—''
''Annabelle,'' Mr. Knight cut in with an admirable take-charge tone. ''You're jumping to conclusions. Let the officer talk.''
Jeff nodded at Mr. Wright. ''No problem, sir. I do apologize. Your son obviously was with you and his friends last night. We'll speak with the other yo
ung men present, but I'm sure they'll confirm what you've told me. My main purpose in coming was to ask a few questions about the meeting Miss Rose and Will had with the victim the other day.''
''Oh. That makes sense,'' Mrs. Knight said. By her embarrassed expression, you'd have thought I'd just told her that her dress was tucked into her panty hose.
''I believe I told you all about our meeting with Mrs. Olsen, Sergeant Kline,'' I said, trying to sound as patient and composed as Jeff.
Will squinted and cocked his head. ''I get the feeling you two know each—I mean, aside from what went down last night.''
''How could you ever guess?'' I said. ''We know each other quite well, as a matter of fact.''
''From other cases?'' His eyes were bright with curiosity.
Smart, intuitive kid. No wonder I liked him so much.
''We're colleagues,'' Jeff said. He offered out his gum, and getting no takers, unwrapped a few sticks and folded them in his mouth. ''Back to why I'm here. Did Mrs. Olsen contact you after you met with her the other day?''
''No, sir,'' said Will.
Jeff looked back and forth between the Knights. ''Either of you speak to her?''
They both shook their heads, and Mr. Knight said, ''Never.''
''Please be honest, Sergeant,'' Mrs. Knight said. ''Do you think her death is somehow connected to our son?''
''We don't have evidence aside from her bequest to support that theory right now,'' Jeff answered.
''Very strange to leave everything to Will,'' Mrs. Knight said, half to herself. ''And you knew about this, Abby?''
''I only heard late last night—one reason I came here this morning. I drove to Mrs. Olsen's house after I left the crime scene. Since she'd called me to meet with her at the espresso bar, I felt—''
''Could we save that discussion for later?'' Jeff said. ''Right now I'd like to hear Will's take on the victim. Did anything in particular stand out about her?''
''Ask me, she'd been smoking weed or taken some major head pill,'' Will said.
''William,'' his mother said. ''The woman is dead, for heaven's sake.''
Jeff held up a hand, chewing hard on his gum. ''It's okay. This is exactly the kind of thing I need to know. What made you come to that conclusion?''
''She knew everything about me, from the time I was a kid. It freaked me out. She never said anything about leaving me her stuff or anything, though. That is so crazy.'' He looked at his mother. ''Not crazy crazy. Sad crazy, Mom. She may have been weird, but—''
''She didn't deserve to die,'' his mother finished. ''Why didn't you tell me she knew things about your childhood?''
''I'm the one who should have told you,'' I said. ''That's why you hired me. I was concerned about her obvious knowledge of Will, especially since she shouldn't have even known his name. That's why I've made an appointment with the social worker who handled the original CPS case—to find out how Verna Mae got so much information.''
''Molly Roth? Our old caseworker?'' asked Mr. Knight.
Jeff stood abruptly before I could answer yes. He said, ''I think I have all I need for now. We'll be in touch.''
Mr. Knight stood, too. ''I'm concerned, Sergeant Kline. What if there's a connection between our son inheriting this woman's property and her murder? Would that put Will in danger?''
''We're doing everything we can to find answers,'' Jeff said. ''If we find a connection and we think he needs protection, he'll get it. Right now, this crime appears to be a robbery-homicide.''
The Knights nodded solemnly, and then Jeff turned and started walking out of the kitchen.
Something was wrong. Why did he decide to split all of a sudden? Was he still angry about my trip to Bottlebrush? No . . . my gut told me that wasn't it. ''You still want me at the station by ten?'' I called after him.
''Yes, ma'am,'' he answered over his shoulder.
While Mr. Knight followed Jeff out, Mrs. Knight asked if I'd like coffee.
''No, thanks,'' I said. ''I'm trying to get off the java. Then maybe I won't have to get my teeth bleached as often.'' Still troubled by Jeff's attitude, I checked my watch. I had an hour to wait until I could talk to him alone and find out what was up.
When Mr. Knight returned, it was time to explain the theory Chief Rollins and I had come up with. More of what I'd wanted to ease into with the family.
I said, ''Though I haven't discussed this with Sergeant Kline yet, I have a theory why Verna Mae Olsen left her home and property to Will.''
''You do?'' Will leaned forward, elbows on knees.
I nodded. ''By the way, Chief Rollins is the officer who came out and took you from Verna Mae the night you were abandoned. Or maybe I should say supposedly abandoned.''
Mrs. Knight's face paled. ''Supposedly?''
I looked at Will. ''You may have already met your birth mother, Will. We'll need your DNA to find out for sure.''
''Are you saying that's why Mrs. Olsen left me her stuff?'' He checked his parents' faces for their reaction.
''And now she's been murdered?'' Mr. Knight said. ''This is unbelievable . . . horrible.''
''We have no proof yet,'' I said, ''but since she left everything to Will and kept close tabs on him for nineteen years, her being your biological mother might explain her behavior.''
''I-I'm stunned,'' Mrs. Knight said. ''We only wanted Will to know the truth about his past. To know who he was and where he came from. Know about his African-American heritage. But to have all this happen? I'm thinking we should leave well enough alone.''
''Wait a minute, Mom,'' Will said. ''You weren't there the day I met with Dr. Rose. She told me this wouldn't be easy. That I might learn things I wished I hadn't.''
''Dr. Rose?'' Mr. Knight looked at me. ''I'm confused. Are you a doctor?''
''No, no,'' Mrs. Knight said. ''Remember Abby told us Will would be interviewed by a psychologist, to make sure he could handle a reunion?''
Her husband nodded. ''I remember.'' He looked at Will. ''You had the interview while I was out of town. You said it went well.''
''That psychologist is Abby's sister, Dr. Kate Rose. Very sweet lady.'' Mrs. Knight smiled at me.
''Dr. Rose knows what she's talking about,'' Will said. ''She said I needed to be committed a hundred percent, just like I am to the game. Said I needed to be strong if I planned to go after this. I'm not dropping the ball because Mrs. Olsen died. We keep going. Okay, Abby?''
I nodded, lips tight. This kid was a winner in my book, even if he'd never played basketball a day in his life.
5
I left the Knight home after telling Will I'd make arrangements for him to have his blood drawn and the sample sent to the genetics lab I'd dealt with on a paternity case a few months ago. After checking in on the first floor at HPD, I rode the elevator to the homicide offices and made my way down the busy aisle to Jeff's cubicle. You've never seen paper-shuffling like what goes on at HPD. Fax machines rattled, phones rang and there was enough cursing to provide a script for hell. The place made me as nervous as a cockroach on a griddle.
But if I thought I'd get some time alone to find out what was bugging Jeff, I was wrong. Angel Molina was sitting across from him in the cluttered cubicle. Angel is my supervising PI and Jeff's good friend.
''Hey, guys,'' I said, taking the empty molded chair alongside my boss.
Angel gripped my neck, pulled me close and kissed me on the cheek. The strength of his Polo cologne nearly knocked me off my chair.
''How's my best detective?'' He tugged at the cuffs of his pristine starched shirt.
I smiled. ''Was that cheek swipe you gave me a metaphor for another kind of kiss?''
''Me? Kissing butt?'' Angel said with a laugh.
''I almost believe you're sincere, except I also know you could sell sand to an Arab. What's this meeting about?'' I looked at Jeff.
''It's about working this case,'' Jeff said.
''Oh, I get it. That's why you left the Knights' house. You're pissed off because—''
> ''Hold on, Abby,'' Angel said. ''From my conversation with Jeff, I did not get the impression he is upset with you.''
''Why do we need you as a mediator then?'' Jeff might not be mad, but I was getting fired up and I wasn't sure why.
Angel patted my knee. ''I'm here as a friend to you both. From what Jeff's told me, your adoption investigation and his murder case seem to be trains on parallel tracks.''
Dead Giveaway Page 5
