by V. B. Tenery
Matt stood and shoved his chair back against the wall. “I never needed the assistance of your predecessor to do my job, and I don’t need yours. I don’t report to the mayor’s office. If you have a problem with my job performance, I suggest you take your complaint to the city manager.”
The line went dead.
Hot blood pounded in Matt’s temples but he realized that was an exercise in futility. Anger wouldn’t solve his problems with Terrance Hall. It was no accident the mayor found out about the mixed-up ID. Too fast to be a coincidence. Hall had placed a mole in the police department.
CHAPTER FIVE
Twin Falls Police Station
Twin Falls, Texas
After a restless night, Matt pushed through his office door at eight o’clock. A very unpleasant day loomed before him as he strode across the carpet to his desk. He punched in the number for The Mayfield Suites and waited as the desk clerk confirmed Ian Hamilton arrived last night and forwarded the call to his room.
Next-of-kin interviews were something Matt had done hundreds of times, but they never got any easier. Officially, this wouldn’t be a notification of death. Norris had already informed Hamilton of the deaths of his sister and her family, but the grief aspect would still be in play.
Hamilton answered the phone with a hesitant hello on the first ring, his voice crisp and very British.
“Lord Hamilton, my name is Matthew Foley. I’m Chief of Police in Twin Falls. I’d like to see you sometime this morning if possible.”
“Please, just call me Ian. I don’t use the title. I’m glad you rang. I intended to call you to get an update. Would nine-thirty fit your schedule?”
“That sounds good. See you then.” He closed the connection and addressed the paperwork in his inbox.
Later, Matt made the ten-minute drive from the station to the hotel and knocked on the door of the top floor suite.
A tall man opened the door, thirtyish, with still-damp, sandy blond hair and hazel eyes. Not handsome, but attractive in a scholarly way. He bore a remarkable resemblance to the British actor, Leslie Howard, who played Ashley Wilkes, Scarlet O’Hara’s obsession in Gone with the Wind. The blue jeans and plaid shirt he wore were faded, and his boots well worn. He had a haggard expression as though all life and passion had drained from his soul.
Sunlight through the open curtains emphasized the shadows around his eyes as he stepped aside for Matt to enter. “You’ll have to forgive my appearance, Chief Foley. I left immediately when I received Norris’s message.”
Matt entered the large room, filled with ornate furniture. A plush sofa and two matching wingback chairs formed a sitting room in tones of blue and beige. A dining table and two chairs sat in the corner.
“Please accept my condolences for your loss.” Matt gripped Hamilton’s hand. “Ethan and Ann were friends of mine.”
The muscles in Hamilton’s jaw tightened. “Yes…he was…they were...” He swallowed hard, and his voice trailed away. He struggled to regain his composure, waving Matt to a seat in one of the chairs. “I’m afraid my wardrobe has been neglected the past couple of years. Durability and comfort have replaced fashion. One loses touch with civility working in remote areas of the world.” Matt understood he wasn’t talking about his wardrobe. He avoided the subject of his family’s death—still too raw for discussion.
Matt said the polite thing, which happened to be true. “This is Texas. You’ll fit right in.”
Still standing, Hamilton met Matt’s gaze. “I was just about to ring for coffee. Will you join me?”
Matt nodded. “Yes, thanks.”
Hamilton made the call, then took the chair beside Matt. “I know it’s early in the game, but have you any information on who might be responsible and why?”
Matt settled back in the chair. “Only unsubstantiated theories at present. When did you last speak to the family?”
The missionary’s eyes clouded over. “Last week. They were still in England. Ann and I have spoken at least twice a week for the past year. Our father has been ill. I depended on her to keep me updated on his health. Usually I called Ann. We found it easier than for her to try to track me down. As you can imagine, there are not a lot of cell towers in the isolated regions of Mexico.”
A shadow passed across his face when he mentioned his sister’s name. “I’m often difficult to reach. By God’s grace, I’d just returned to home base when Norris called.”
“Did she seem upset about anything when you last spoke?”
Before he could answer, the waiter arrived with the coffee and placed the tray on the table. Hamilton signed the ticket and handed the man a tip. He turned back to Matt. “No, on the contrary. She was quite pleased. Father’s health was showing improvement and the family looked forward to going home.”
“Do you ever speak to Alexander?” Matt asked.
The missionary filled two cups and handed one to Matt. He offered cream and sugar, but Matt declined.
“Not really. Alex came back to the states over the Christmas season a couple of years ago. Ethan and Ann met him in New York. Alex was there to meet with a publisher.” Hamilton stirred the coffee, seeming to search his memory. “I spoke to him for a few minutes on the telephone. I haven’t seen him since we were boys, some twenty years ago. We were close in age and played together as children. Ann was fifteen years older than I. Ann was very protective of Alex after what happened to Andrew.”
“Who is Andrew?” Matt asked.
Hamilton gave a slight raise of his brows. “You don’t know?” He shrugged. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Ethan and Ann were reluctant to speak of him. Andrew was their first born. When he was three, Andrew was abducted from their home in London.”
Placing his cup on the table, Hamilton stood, and walked to the window. “After Alexander was born they moved to America. All I know is what my father told me. Apparently, the newspapers carried the story for months. The tabloids blamed the police for bungling the ransom exchange. The kidnappers got away with the money. Scotland Yard speculated the people involved had murdered the child.”
Empathy for the Graysons tugged at Matt’s heart. The abduction explained the family’s reclusiveness, why they never accepted social invitations, and the elaborate security system. Most residents in Twin Falls were unaware of the Grayson’s presence.
But someone knew. Someone knew enough to get past the high-tech security system.
Hamilton took a long sip from his cup. “Poor Ann. There was so much tragedy in her life. She was terrified of the dark after Andrew disappeared.”
Hamilton’s eyes mirrored the loss of an entire family—a senseless loss. His mouth tightened into a grim straight line, deepening the cleft in his chin. “I must confess I do not always understand the ways of God.”
Matt let the moment pass. “Tell me more about Alexander.”
Hamilton drew in a sharp breath. “Chief Foley, I understand given the size of Ethan’s estate, family members will come under scrutiny.” Hamilton seemed to have difficulty finding the right words. “If you are considering Alex as a suspect, you are off the mark. I’ve never known anyone who cared less about money. When he returned to England, he emptied his pockets to the tenant children who worked on my father’s estate.
“Although I haven’t seen Alex for many years, I don’t think anyone’s character could change enough to commit such a heinous act. Most especially against his own family. Alex is quite wealthy in his own right. His maternal grandparents left him a large part of their estate—which was considerable, and I understand that he was doing quite well with his book publishing.”
Matt placed his cup on the tray and rose from the sofa. “Every possibility has to be explored. I wouldn’t be doing my job otherwise.”
Hamilton nodded. “Of course, I’m just rather touchy now. If there is anything you need, I’m at your disposal.”
“Do you want to see them?” Matt asked.
Hamilton didn’t hesitate. “No. I’m not up to...
not at present. I’ll wait until the funeral. It isn’t something I’m looking forward to. I’ve asked Norris to take care of the arrangements in Alexander’s absence. However, I would like to see Emily Castleton, if possible. She’s alone and will need encouragement. At least in the beginning.”
Matt moved to the door. “Her room is guarded. I’ll make arrangements for you to visit.”
Hamilton returned to the window, his back to Matt. “Chief Foley, I’ll be here until this matter is resolved. I would appreciate it if you would keep me informed of your progress.”
“I’ll tell you what I can,” Matt said. “There’ll probably be details I can’t divulge. I’m sure you understand.”
Matt reached for the doorknob. He paused and cleared his throat. “If you haven’t made plans, perhaps you would like to join me for dinner tonight. I hate for you to be alone...under the circumstances.”
Turning back, Hamilton’s gaze searched Matt’s face. “That’s kind of you, and yes, I would like that. I’d planned to have room service, and frankly I wasn’t looking forward to spending the evening alone with my memories.”
Matt’s conscience pricked for just a moment. His invitation wasn’t solely noble. He did feel sorry for Hamilton. The man was obviously grieving. But he also wanted to observe him in a relaxed environment with his guard down. Right now, every family member was a suspect, including Hamilton. “Fine, I’ll pick a good restaurant here in town. I’ll ask Seth Davidson to join us. He was Ethan and Ann’s pastor. Six-thirty if that’s okay with you.”
Hamilton nodded. “Yes, I’ll meet you in the lobby.”
Matt pulled the door closed behind him and walked out into the chilled fall air.
In the car, he removed his cell phone from his pocket and called Seth. “I just invited Ann’s brother to dinner tonight, and if it isn’t too short of a notice, I’d like you to join us.”
“Certainly, Matthew. Where and what time?”
The Mayfield Suites Hotel
Twin Falls, Texas
Shortly after lunch, Ian Hamilton answered the knock at his door to find a bellman standing outside with garment bags in both arms.
“Delivery for you, sir,” he said and handed him three bags.
Ian heaved a breath of relief. Norris or someone on his staff had worked a miracle.
Before leaving Mexico, Ian had asked Norris where he might pick up a few suits on short notice. Norris asked for the name of Ian’s tailor in London and said he would get back to him. Thirty minutes later, Norris rang back and said he’d given Ethan’s tailor Ian’s measurements to put together a temporary wardrobe for him.
And here they were. In a little more than twenty-four hours, three suits, shirts, ties, belts, hosiery, and shoes. No wonder Ethan had such confidence in the man.
Norris gave him the name of the tailor in case he needed to add other items later. He would need to purchase an overcoat and other winter garments when he had time.
As he stored the new items in the closet, his wife Beth’s lovely face flashed into his mind. While alive, she’d taken care of his personal needs. After her death, he only bought whatever he needed at the time. Deep inside, his spirit groaned. Another horrific loss to get through, and he didn’t know if he had the strength.
Twin Falls Police Station
Twin Falls, Texas
Matt’s cell phone jingled James Brown’s “I Feel Good” signaling the call was from Detective Miles Davis. “What’s up?”
“Where are you?”
“Just walking in the station door.”
“Meet me and Turner in McCulloch’s lab. Something very interesting showed up on the security data.”
“On my way.”
Inside the crime lab, the two detectives and McCulloch huddled around a large flat screen monitor in the corner. Matt joined them. “Okay, I’m here. Talk to me.”
“Mac, rewind to the limo,” Davis said. He turned on his stool to face Matt. “I think we’ve found our killer.”
As the images rewound, Davis pointed to the screen. “This was taken from four nights of stored data. This particular footage is from Sunday evening.” Mac zoomed in on an isolated frame. “What you’re going to see here is the limo driver who brought Emily Castleton home at seven-thirty-two Sunday evening.”
The CSU chief played with the keyboard, and the picture focused on the Mercedes pulling up to the entrance. The gate opened and the car moved up the road toward the manor. “What’s so unusual?”
Mac advanced the image to the vehicle leaving the manor. “It’s not the arrival that’s important. It’s the departure. Look at the time the limo exited through the gate.”
McCulloch froze the image and pointed to the date and time tab in the lower right corner. Eight thirty-five.
Matt did the calculation. “Slightly over an hour to leave the grounds? That narrows the time of death window and explains how the killer got through the gate. and we get a good look at his face?”
“The quality of the source data is great, and I’ve blown it up several times.” McCulloch reflected for a moment, then shook his head. “But the camera shot is at a downward angle, and the guy is wearing a cap and sunglasses. No way to identify him. However, we do have a good shot of the license plates.”
“Have you had time to check it out?” Matt asked.
Davis fielded the question to Turner who flipped open her notebook. “Yep. Plates were stolen, and the limo didn’t belong to the airport service.”
Things were starting to break in their favor. It took a lot of arrogance to believe you could commit a crime of this magnitude and get away with it.
Matt turned his attention to Davis. “Emily had two chances to recognize the killer, one when he brought her home, and again when he shot her. He won’t be happy to learn he failed to finish her. Remind the guys on hospital guard duty to stay on their toes. It’s logical to expect the killer to come after Emily again.”
CHAPTER SIX
The Steak Out, Twin Falls
Twin Falls, Texas
Matt picked up Hamilton at six-thirty in front of the hotel, and they drove the short trip to The Steak Out in ten minutes. He pulled into the first empty parking space. Ian cast a quizzical look his way. The outside was rustic, a large weathered-wood building with windows running across the front entrance.
“Interesting name,” Hamilton said.
Matt chuckled. “It doesn’t look like much from the outside, and the inside isn’t much better. But the place is clean, and they have the best steaks I’ve ever eaten. I don’t know what magic seasoning they use, but it’s superb. The crowded parking lot is your first clue.”
The night sky was clear but the air was cold and damp as they stepped from the car. The last time Matt had eaten here had been with detectives Hunter and Davis. They’d met to celebrate closing the twenty-five-year-old murder of Penny Pryor.
The restaurant was a man’s kind of place. No frills, just great food, and lots of it. Ian Hamilton should enjoy the place. Despite the man’s title and pedigree, he wasn’t accustomed to elegance and the finer things living in Mexico.
The smell of grilled steaks that wafted from the kitchen confirmed his endorsement of the place. He headed to a table near the kitchen, where Seth Davidson waited.
The pastor rose from his chair and greeted them.
Matt shook his hand, introduced the two men, and they took their seats.
He grinned as he watched his guest look around for a menu. “No menu, Ian. There are two cuts of meat. T-bone and rib eye, and they are at least an inch thick and as big as the plate. Sides are a baked sweet potato, sautéed mushrooms and a salad. They come with the meal. The only choices are cut of meat and how you want it cooked. They don’t take reservations and they only take cash.”
“How do they get away with that? It seems rather unaccommodating.”
“When you taste the steak, you’ll understand. On weekends, there’s always a line around the building.”
A red-ves
ted waiter in tennis shoes and jeans approached the table, order pad in hand.
Matt nodded to him. “Hi, Irvin. I brought you a new customer. Treat him right.”
Irvin grinned. “I treat’em all right.”
After they placed the order, Seth Davidson leaned toward Ian. “Have you taken a furlough until this terrible business is settled?”
Ian nodded. “I’ve trained some wonderful men who can take over. In fact, they’ll probably discover they don’t need me while I’m away.”
Seth chuckled. “I doubt that’s so. Tell us about your mission field. Ann was very proud of the work you’re doing. She spoke of you often.”
For the next thirty minutes, Ian told stories of the people and the far-flung areas he traveled to by burro or on foot. “Unfortunately, the drug cartels have almost taken over the country. They are better armed than the authorities. I’m unsure how much longer it will be safe for missionaries to go there. A husband and wife team were recently murdered in their home.”
Matt leaned back in his chair, and looked across the table. “I’ve heard about the chaos from law enforcement friends. The Texas and Arizona borders have become a war zone, especially with the recent influx of children from Central America. A few good officers and citizens have been wounded and killed.”
Ian’s gaze lingered on the silverware for a moment before he replied. “If the situation becomes too volatile for missionaries to stay, the Mexican people will be the big losers. They are very poor, though friendly and loving. I would hate to think I could never return.”
“What are your plans for the present, Ian?” Seth asked.
“Nothing definite yet, except to see whoever is responsible for the deaths of my family are brought to justice.”
Nodding his understanding, Seth unbuttoned his jacket and leaned back. “We have a school at our church. When you are up to it, I would love to have you preach at our Wednesday chapel service. I know the kids would enjoy hearing about your work.”
