Deadly Distractions, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 6
Page 28
CHAPTER 28
THE DEAL
My skills as a private investigator were obviously lacking. The big brunette had spotted me spying on them and came to give me a piece of her mind or perhaps her fist, I wasn’t sure which. My adrenaline level soared as she slammed the door and came quickly toward me. I had taken a self-defense course that the Dallas sheriff’s office gave to all the assistant DAs, but I wasn’t anxious for a test of the skills that I had learned. Fortunately, she stopped without raising her fist.
“Miss Waters. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you’re messing with the wrong man. If he sees you spying on him, he’ll kill you.”
The sudden rush of relief I was feeling quickly fizzled. “Kill me?”
She nodded. “Yes, he’s a very dangerous man and I’d hate to see you get hurt. If I was you I’d get back in your car, go home, and forget you ever met Don Harris.”
“If he’s so bad, why do you stay with him?”
She sighed. “I don’t have a choice but you do.”
“Why don’t you have a choice?”
“He said if I ever left him, he’d kill me.”
She spoke with such conviction I was tempted to take her advice, but this was exactly the kind of man who could have killed Dusty Thomas. I had no choice but to pursue this lead. I wondered if I could turn this encounter to my advantage.
“Miss—what was your name?” I asked.
“Jill Murray.”
“Jill, maybe we can help each other out here.”
“How’s that?” Jill asked.
“I’m working on a puzzle and your boyfriend is one of the pieces. I need to figure out where he fits in.”
She looked at me curiously. “I know you're defending Dusty Thomas. I’ve seen you on TV.”
“Right. Has Don been following his trial?”
“Oh, God, yes. He watches the news three times a day to see if there is any coverage about it.”
“Really? What if I fixed it so he couldn’t ever hurt you?”
“Yeah, right,” she said.
“I mean it. If you help me, I’ll give you your freedom.”
“But how could you do that?”
“I’ve got connections with the DA’s office. If Mr. Harris is involved in Bobby Tuttle’s murder and you help me prove it, he'll go to jail for the rest of his life.”
“But what if he wasn’t involved?” Jill said.
Jill was no dummy. She knew there was only so much I could do to protect her. I didn’t want to mislead her so I said, “Well, then I’ll help you get a restraining order prohibiting him from contacting you or coming anywhere near you. If he violates the order, he’ll go to jail.”
“Sure, but he doesn’t respect the court. He’ll kill me anyway.”
I smiled sympathetically. “I don’t think so. Most people like him are cowards and wouldn’t jeopardize their freedom just to get a little revenge.”
“I’m not saying I’ll help, but if I did, what kind of help do you need?”
I smiled and said, “Do you spend a lot of time with him?”
“Not a lot. His wife’s usually at home. But when he summons me, I come.”
“Was that her who just showed up?”
“Yes, that’s why I hightailed it.”
“We better go somewhere else to talk. If you spotted me, your boyfriend might also.”
“Good idea. If he sees me talking to you, we’re both in serious trouble.”
We agreed to meet at a restaurant in Wylie. It was mid-afternoon so it wasn’t busy. When I arrived, Jill wasn’t there yet so I got a table in the corner where we wouldn’t be seen. I was thrilled that I had apparently struck a deal with her. She could be instrumental in solving Bobby Tuttle’s murder and I’d feel good if I was able to free her from Harris’ control. When she walked in the waitress showed her to my table. After we got a couple soft drinks, we continued our conversation. She told me that Harris had served eight years in the army until he got into some kind of trouble and resigned his commission. She didn’t know the details but she said he was very bitter about it and had joined some kind of paramilitary group that trained in the Texas Hill Country.
She didn’t know much about his business or the government contracts he had, but she had heard him complain many times about Bobby Tuttle’s obsession with putting the People’s Mission out of business. Apparently he had bragged on occasion that if Bobby Tuttle wasn’t careful he’d end up with a bullet in his head. I asked her if Harris had a Remington shotgun and she indicated she thought he did. In fact, she said he had quite a collection of weaponry back at the house. Finally, I asked her about the silver Mercedes.
“It belongs to Charlotte, his wife,” Jill said.
“Does he ever drive it?”
“Sure. If they go out together, they take the Mercedes.”
“Have you noticed any damage to the left, side mirror?” I asked.
She hesitated. “Yes, Charlotte has knocked it off a couple of times backing out of the garage.”
“Really? Who told you this?”
“Don. He's always complaining about what a klutzy driver she is.”
“Do you know where he gets it fixed?”
“Probably at Park Place Motorcars. That’s where he usually takes it for repairs.”
Jill was too good to be true. Don Harris was looking more and more like the killer every minute I talked to her. I knew I was a long way from cracking the case, but I couldn’t quell the excitement I was feeling. Before we parted I found out her address, telephone number, and where she worked so I could find her later. I asked her to try to find out where Harris was on July 11. She said she would try but wasn’t optimistic she could find that out. Apparently Harris was very secretive about his activities and suspicious of any questioning in that regard. I couldn’t wait to get back to the office and tell Stan what I had discovered.