––––––––
Catherine James veered her Ford Focus off the two-lane highway and jammed on its brakes, abruptly stopping on a grassy edge of the snaking Georgia blacktop. Her blue eyes squinted and stared at the radio. Damn, she needed a replay option like her DVR had! Before saying “unseasonably warm temperatures will continue throughout the weekend”, the announcer had—almost casually—reported a murder. Her ex-husband’s. The Athens reporter had revealed “homicide detectives are still on the crime scene”. From habit, she finger-combed shoulder-length brown hair as she tried to compose herself. She needed a clear head and steady nerves to best handle the shocking situation. What to do first?
Catherine retrieved her cell phone, took a deep breath, and called her sister’s house. So much for notifying family before you publicly expose such tragic news. She fumed and grimaced. Her ex-husband’s death did not evoke any instant tears, and with just reason. Yet, she prayed their son had not heard or been told about a similar broadcast. That would be a horrific way for a ten year old boy to discover his father is dead. No, far worse, was murdered. A gory word, a heinous misdeed no child should be forced to endure. She had thought, hoped, prayed that she could shield Matthew from the harsh cruelties of life for a while longer. How wrong she had been.
Before her sister could complete a greeting, Catherine spewed forth questions. “Missy, do you know what the hell is going on? I just heard on the radio that Adam was killed last night! How? Where? By whom? Does Matt know?” It wasn’t necessary to identify herself to a younger sister who was keeping Matthew while she was in Atlanta on business.
“Cath! Thank God you called. I don’t know what’s going on. We were outside washing the cars when a news bulletin broke in over the radio. Matt’s next door at the Griffins playing in their swimming pool. I doubt they’re paying any attention. Besides, he wouldn’t be able to hear much over all that racket. Where are you?”
“Right outside town. I should be at your house in about fifteen minutes, depending on traffic.”
“Dan tried to call you. Either your cell wasn’t turned on or you were in a dead zone. He called a friend at the police department, but we haven’t heard from him yet. Anyway, I have no idea what happened. No one has been by here or called looking for you or Matt. Did anyone try to contact you in Atlanta?”
“No. I can’t believe what’s happened. I admit, I had daydreams when we were divorcing that somehow Adam would be taken out of our lives permanently. But I never imagined he would be killed. It seems so unreal.”
“It’s gonna be real enough when you tell Matt about his father.” Missy sighed. “I hope he can handle it. With all of the publicity that’ll surely surround Adam’s death, Matt will have a lot to deal with for such a young kid.”
Catherine winced as she thought about her son and this new threat to the peaceful existence she had tried to create since the divorce. Why—she fretted—was this happening now that they’d finally managed to get on with their lives?
“I should arrive soon, Missy. Keep Matt away from the radio and TV until I can get there, okay?”
“We’ll do our best, Sis. This is probably the last warm weekend, so he’s not getting out of that pool until he’s dragged anyway. Drive carefully, and we’ll see you when you get here.”
Catherine murmured, “Bye, Missy, and thanks.” Why hasn’t anyone tried to contact me? Maybe because we’re divorced and I’m no longer next of kin. Shaky hands tried to keep the small SUV in between the yellow and white lines, as Catherine’s mind ran in a myriad of directions. She envisioned the last time she had seen Adam glaring at her from his favorite black leather chair, drinking a scotch and nearly daring her to refuse to buckle under his new, unacceptable demands. Darker thoughts caused Catherine’s breath to come in short, quick gasps: Who had killed Adam and why? Was she or Matt in danger? The police could be at or calling her house right now!
Catherine knew she should not call or text while driving, but there was no place to pull over again. She punched the speed dial number for her home phone and the button for the speaker. As soon as she heard Matthew’s voice on the answering machine explaining they weren’t available to take the call, additional numbers were sent over the airwaves to replay any messages left since last night. “You have five new messages,” the mechanical voice intoned. Her hands trembled on the wheel and she held her breath expectantly as the beeps seemingly reverberated throughout her storm gray vehicle.
The first one was from her best friend, Amy. “Hey, Cath! I got the tickets for the STOMP production playing at the Fox. We’ve got orchestra seats! I’m so excited! The show is at eight next Friday. Do you think Matt can stay with your sister? Call me when you get home, and we can make definite plans. Hope you passed your test with flying colors. Call me.” Tears welled in Catherine’s eyes. She blinked several times to clear her vision, causing several drops to roll down her flushed face. Amy’s voice seemed so normal, but her own life was suddenly turned upside down. Again. She briefly wondered if Amy had heard the bad news by now, until a deep masculine voice grabbed her attention.
“This is Detective Stephen Moore. I need to speak with Catherine James as soon as possible in regards to her husband. Excuse me, ex-husband. Please call my office the minute you get this message.” Chills coursed through her body, as her mind played a multitude of channels at once.
Amy’s voice filled her ears again. This time, however, the cheerfulness was gone. “Cath! I just saw the morning news. They said Adam was found dead this morning. Cops are all over the place in the videos. Somebody finally took out the loser. One less deadbeat dad on the streets of America, is what I have to say. Thank God you were out of town last night. You know they always try to pin it on the spouse. At least you have an airtight alibi, so they won’t come looking your way. Oh, geez, here I am rambling on when Matt could get this message or be listening with you. Sorry, I went brain dead, girlfriend. I’m here when you need me, okay? I love ya, Cath.”
Numerous thoughts and feelings ravaged Catherine’s mind as the remaining messages played. Another one from the detective requesting she return his call. Followed by the coach reminding Matthew of soccer practice the next afternoon.
Catherine tapped numbers the deep voice had emblazoned upon her brain, and waited while the phone rang twice.
“Detective Moore’s desk,” said a pleasant male voice.
“Is . . . Detective Moore in?”
“He’s on another line. Can I take a message?”
“This is Catherine James. He left several messages for me to call him. I’m on my cell. I just got his messages as I was returning to town. Would you let him know I returned his call, and I’ll try again after I’ve gotten home?”
“Hold on a minute, Ms. James. I know Detective Moore has been trying to reach you. Let me put a note under his nose. I know you’re on a cell, but please wait for just a second.” Rick had been assigned to follow Moore around to learn procedures from the lead detective, as he had just passed his detective’s exam and was now partnered with one of the city’s best investigators. He knew that Moore had been trying to reach the ex-wife in the latest homicide, and wouldn’t be pleased if he let her off the phone. Waving his arm to get his superior’s attention, Rick motioned to the receiver and mouthed Catherine’s name. Moore ended his call and almost snatched the phone from him. He watched and listened as his new mentor began speaking.
“Catherine James, this is Detective Stephen Moore. I’m glad you called. I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”
“I was in Atlanta attending a conference and taking a certification test for my job. I heard the news on the car radio as I was returning home. Don’t you normally contact the next of kin before you release a victim’s name to the media? Thank God my son hasn’t heard about this yet.”
“When someone as well-known as Adam James is found dead, the news media tends to—”
“What happened to Adam?” Catherine interrupted. “The radio reporter said he was . . . murdered.”
“Why don’t you come to the precinct and we can discuss this in person? How soon can I expect you?” he asked, as if she had no choice but to drive straight to his office.
“I’m on my way to pick up my son. I should get to him before he hears this news the same way I did.” She let her disapproval come through as she continued, “He hasn’t seen his father in nearly eight years, but Adam’s death will still be a shock to him. I want him to hear about this from me. Can you tell me briefly what happened?” She teethed her lower lip as she waited, praying he wouldn’t demand her appearance just yet.
“Where is your son now, Ms. James?”
“Matt’s at my sister’s house. She’s trying to shelter him from the news broadcasts until I get there. I told her I’d be at her house in a little while, so they’re expecting me. Will you tell me what happened to Adam?”
“It’s better if you come in now. I’m sure your sister will watch him for a while longer. Wouldn’t it be harder on your son if you told him about his father’s death, then had to leave him to come here?” Stephen slightly emphasized the words “had to”, hoping it would encourage her to talk with him, yet without trying to appear threatening. The silence that followed lasted so long, Stephen thought they’d been disconnected. He was about to call out her name when he heard her release a deep breath.
“I guess you’re probably right, Detective. I’m sure Matthew won’t want me to leave him once he hears about his father. I need to call my sister and let her know what’s going on.” Catherine mentally calculated the distance. “I’m almost to the end of 316. Where are you located?”
“Do you know where the Tag Office is on Highway 78?”
“Yes.”
“We’re next to it. The elevators are on your left as soon as you enter the building. Come to the third floor. My office is down the hall, number 314. Name’s on the door."
“Okay. I’ll find you. I’ll give my sister a call and see you in about twenty minutes.”
“See you then, Ms. James.”
Catherine’s thumb pushed the disconnect button. She focused her attention just in time to see the traffic light burning a bright red. She rapidly braked and berated herself. “That’s all I need right now. Add a rear-ender to a murder charge. I might as well wear a guilty flag when they haul me away.” She rested her forehead on the steering wheel and sighed. More tears stung her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks. Matt, what have I done to you? A blaring horn caused her to glance up and realize that the light was now green, and drivers behind her were eager to continue on their way. Get a hold of yourself, Cath. Your son is depending on you. Now more than ever. You can handle this interrogation. Just stay calm and alert.
Catherine swiped at the wet trail on her pinked cheeks, then pulled off the highway to call Missy safely. She pressed the numbers into the keypad and took a deep, calming breath before touching the Send button.
“Hello?”
“Dave, it’s Cath. How’s everything there?”
“Catherine! Everything’s running smoothly here. Missy’s outside with the boys right now. She took the CD player over to the Griffin’s for them to use next to the pool. Missy thought it would decrease the chances of them hearing any news broadcasts. As if boys that age listen to any talking.” Dave tried to inject a little humor to lighten his sister-in-law’s dark fears before asking in a more serious tone, “How are you holding up?”
“A little shaky. Scared. Confused. Numb. I called home to check my messages. There were two from a detective requesting I call him ASAP. So I did. He wants to meet with me immediately. Dave, what am I going to do? How am I going to tell Matt?” A sob lodged in her throat. It felt as if a knot was cutting off her ability to breathe and speak. Her knuckles were white from the solid grip she had on the steering wheel. It seemed as if the nerves in her arms and legs had gathered on the surface of her skin and were dancing wildly to a silent and ominous tune.
“Matt’s going to be fine, Cath. He’s a tough kid, and Adam hasn’t been an influence in his life in years. Adam was never around even when you two were married, so Matt’s adjusted to living without his father. I’m not saying he won’t have a rough time for a bit, but he’ll adjust as well as you do. Did the detective tell you anything about what happened last night?”
“He said he wanted to talk to me in person. Now. I told him I hadn’t seen my son yet, and I wanted him to hear the bad news about his father from me. He said it would be better on Matt if I didn’t leave him right afterward to come to the police station.”
“He’s probably right there, Cath. Do you want me to meet you at the station? I don’t mind, and Missy can watch the boys until we get back.”
“Oh, Dave, it will really help me if you’re there with me.” She paused, and then asked, “Do you think they think I’m involved? Responsible? Should I hire an attorney?”
“Since you were out of town last night, you have an alibi and nothing to fear. The detective probably just wants to ask you some questions regarding anybody you know who might want to kill Adam. If you march in with an attorney, it’ll stir this up into a hornet’s nest.”
“Well, if they’re wanting me to come in—“
“Besides, I’m sure there are plenty of people who can verify your presence at the conference and hotel, yesterday and today. If you involve an attorney at this point, it might cause them to be suspicious and to look closer at you. You don’t want them snooping around in your private life. Or letting the media learn you’re a Person of Interest. Those scumbags would start pestering you and everybody you know. You have nothing to hide, so be honest and calm with the cops.”
“You’re right, Dave.” Catherine felt miles away from a calm spot. Apprehension slithered over her flesh as if she were trapped in a pit of squirming snakes. With Adam involved, even dead, trouble and peril would be crawling all over and around her very soon. Damn him! Even from the grave, or morgue for now, he could torment and injure her. Just keep Matt safe.
“Cath?”
“I’m sorry, Dave. My mind is going a million miles a minute. I’m hoping a cop doesn’t pull me over before I reach the station. He’d probably demand a sobriety test, thinking I’m drunk.”
“Just drive careful and slow. We’re not far from the police station. I’ll head over there right now. You know where to go?”
“Yes, the detective gave me directions.”
“Wait for me at the elevators if you get there first.”
“Thanks, Dave. I’ll feel much better with you there. I’ll be careful. It probably isn’t a good idea for me to talk to Matt, but tell him I called and I’ll be there soon.”
“Sure. I’ll tell Missy I’m meeting you at the station and tell her to give him a hug for you. Though, I’m not sure he’ll appreciate that at his age. Displays of affection are a definite no-no right now, especially since Ginny’s at the pool.”
Catherine took a deep breath. “Yeah, I know. I’ll see you when we get there. And Dave? Thanks again.”
“No problem. I’ll see you in a few. Chin up, Cath. This is just normal procedure. Everything’s gonna be all right.”
Catherine stood beside the steel elevator doors, waiting for her brother-in-law to come to her aid once again. He had done the same thing the night Adam had beaten her. Dave had rushed to their house, packed a few things, and insisted that she and Matthew come live with them until she obtained a divorce. Missy had watched her son, while he had taken her to the hospital. Dave stayed with her while the physician bandaged her sprained arm, wrapped her bruised ribs, and stitched the small cut over her brow. He’d held her while she wept and tried to convince her to press charges against Adam. Foolish and ashamed, she had refused. She had just wanted out of the nightmare she was in; she hadn’t wanted to multiply it with additional charges and proceedings. She hadn’t wanted to provoke him while escaping him. Or get tangled up in legal battles with a rich and powerful man gone wild. Yet, she had known at that life altering moment that she had the strength, courage and determinations to end everything between them. And she had.
It was strange how Adam had agreed to the divorce he’d opposed so furiously before that shocking incident. It had been the first and only time he’d ever touched her in a violent rage. Afterward, he’d almost seemed to fear being in her presence. She’d often wondered if Dave had gone to see him and had a little chat about the dire consequences if he refused to allow her the divorce. That had been eight years ago, but Dave had remained a strong influence in hers and Matthew’s lives, providing a positive male role model that had prevented her from ever feeling as if she needed to furnish anything more.
She and Matthew had moved out of Missy and Dave’s house within six months, into a new single family housing subdivision that had been developed next to theirs. The home was small, but perfect for the two of them, with a surprisingly large back yard. Dave had gone with her to the bank to get the loan. He had even co-signed for her. When construction on the house began, he was there once more to assist her in dealings with the builder. He had been a shoulder to cry on, a strong hand to lift her up, and a cheerleader in her corner when she’d needed one. What would she have done without him? And here he was for the umpteenth time, helping her out of another skirmish in her battle weary life. Even though he was several years younger than her thirty-three, she’d always looked up to him, as one would to an older brother. How lucky Missy had been to find this kind, gentle and wonderful man.
––––––––
Dave stopped in the entrance of the station and removed his sunglasses. He looked toward the elevator doors and was relieved to see Catherine waiting for him there. Anger infused him. He fumed at the Fates who had attacked her again. Adam had finally overstepped his bounds and gotten what he deserved, but Dave hated to see his sister-in-law bogged down in the murky waters with him. Maybe now she would finally be able to escape her self-imposed prison and begin life anew.
Catherine felt someone staring at her and glanced toward the entrance. “Dave!” she exclaimed. “Thank God you’re here. I was about to head on up without you. I didn’t want to keep this detective waiting much longer.”
“I’m glad you did. I told you I’d be here as fast as I could. Now, let's go see what he has to say.”
Catherine nodded and stepped into the elevator as he held the doors open for her. “He’s on the third floor.”
As they rode silently upwards, she glanced at her brother-in-law. He was several inches taller than six feet, with muddy blond hair and green eyes. She could see by the hard set of his mouth and the glint in his eyes that he was angry. And struggling to keep his agitation in check. Catherine recognized the constant tic in his jaw from the night he’d taken her away from the unhappy and hazardous life she’d spent with Adam. Now, she was dragging him in deeper and withholding secrets that might change the way he viewed her. I’ll never let it go that far. I won’t allow Dave and Missy to be hurt, not after all they’ve done for me.
The elevator doors swooshed open and Dave followed her into the corridor.
“It must be this way. That’s three ten over there.”
“Hey, big sis. Before we go in, I want you to take a couple of deep breaths. Don’t worry about anything. I’m here with you. It’s gonna be just fine. You’ll see.”
Catherine glanced up into his face, wanting to believe him. She wished his voice could make this nightmare disappear into the haze as dreams dissipate quickly upon awakening. But this one had followed her into the light of day, and was unlikely to leave her alone. Just as the tendrils of fear began to inch up her spine and wrap its tentacles around it, she heard Dave mutter, “You’ll have worse to worry about when Matt jumps your case for making his aunt give him a hug in front of Ginny.” The devilish grin he sent her turned up the edges of her mouth and softened her blue gaze. Yes, she imagined she would pay for that one later. Matt would be steamed with her for embarrassing him in front of his new girlfriend.
“Let’s go and get this over with,” Dave coaxed, relieved he could ease the tension around her eyes, if only for a second.
Catherine gave him a slight smile, the glint of humor gone from her gaze. “Thanks, Bro. I needed that. Yeah, let’s get this over with. I’ve got more battles to fight once I get home.”
Detective Stephen Moore looked up from an open file as a light tap on the open door caught his attention. He looked at the expectant couple, though his eyes were drawn like magnets to the striking female. He stood and said, “Dave, nice to see you. Is this lovely woman your wife?”
“Hey, Steve. No, this is my sister-in-law, Catherine James. Are we still on for Thursday night?”
“Absolutely. And you’d better be ready, ‘cause I’m gonna kick your butt again.”
“Fat chance. Tell us, Steve, why is Cath being dragged into this investigation?”
Stephen Moore gently grasped the nervous female’s small, cold hand in his larger and warmer one. With speed, his keen and unreadable gaze took in her features and manner. He had seen a picture of the victim’s ex-wife, tucked away in a bottom desk drawer, as he had gone through its contents while examining the murder victim’s house and crime scene. He wasn’t prepared, however, for the beautiful woman who appeared in front of him this afternoon. He estimated she was around five five, slender and sexy. She was wearing crème colored pants with a royal blue silk blouse and low heels. Thick brown hair grazed her shoulders. Moore watched graceful fingers on her left hand tuck a wayward strand behind her ear. That action drew his attention to her wide, sea-blue eyes. Her head was tilted back as her quizzical gaze fused with his alert one.
“You know each other?” she asked, unsettled by the way his probing brown eyes seemed to captivate her and the way his strong hand encased her right one. His touch was almost comforting, though it caused her heart to flutter rapidly, unexpectedly. She had to mentally caution herself that this man was investigating a murder, which directly affected her and her son’s future. He was handsome in a rugged way, lines of humor etched deeply into his face. She noticed that the detective was the same height as her brother-in-law, with strong, broad shoulders and a trim waist. His snug black t-shirt enhanced the muscles in his arms the same way his jeans flattered his lower half.
Stephen’s mind and body were fighting their own battle as he spoke aloud, “Yes, we play racquetball together every other Thursday night.”
“Oh, you’re that Steve,” Catherine said and grinned. She liked Missy and Dave’s agreement to alternate Thursdays out with their friends while the other spent quality time with their two children. Missy said it benefited her tremendously, whether the two sisters went to dinner and a movie or she stayed home and bonded with Chris and Kelsey. Each was allowed guilt-free time to pursue their own interests, a pact that enhanced their marriage as well as the relationship with her soon-to-be teenaged twins. The virile man in front of her had to be the police friend Missy had referred to earlier. “I’ve heard of your battles on the court and seen their many war wounds.” She imagined the competition was intense between two powerful males, as she had played many times with her brother-in-law.
“Cath! Don’t tell him that!” Dave affectionately teased as he placed his hand across his chest and gave her a silly grin. “It’s all lies, Steve. I usually hit the weight room for an hour after we play, so I feel like I got a really good workout.”
“Ahhhhh, so that explains the twenty minute steam shower you take when you get home. It’s the weights. Gotcha,” she jested.
Stephen smiled at the friendly banter and added, “So what’s your excuse for the major defeat you suffered last week?”
“Ganged up on by my two best friends. What’s this world coming to?” Dave dramatically lifted his shoulders in mock defeat. “I was probably trying to get over my loss to her,” he said as he pointed to Catherine. “She whipped my tail last time. Though she did have an unfair advantage that day, as I recall.”
“An unfair advantage? And what, dear brother, was that?”
“I seem to remember you waving your famous chocolate chip cookies under my nose before the match. The smell distracted me from focusing on that little ball.”
“That sounds like an excuse to me,” Stephen challenged.
“You’ve never tasted Catherine’s cookies. It’s enough to make even the strongest man go weak,” he declared to the grinning faces before him. “Besides, she played on the racquetball team in college. She’s no easy opponent on the court. I bet she could kick your butt, too. How’d you like to wager on that one?”
“Hey, guys,” Catherine broke in to gently remind, “I need to get home. Matt’s waiting for me. Can you tell me what happened last night, Detective, and why I’m here?”
“Please, call me Steve. I only have a few questions. I know contact with your ex-husband has been minimal over the years, and you want to get home quickly, but it would help me a lot to clarify some cloudy areas. I need to strike these points from the list before continuing the investigation. Please, sit down.” He motioned to the two hard backed chairs in front of his desk, as he walked to his seat behind it. “I apologize for the way you found out about last night’s tragedy. But Adam James was well known and respected in this town. He’s big news and it travels fast. It was impossible to keep his death a secret. And, Lauren McBain has just offered a sizeable reward for anyone who has any information leading to the arrest and conviction of his killer.”
Catherine couldn’t stop the involuntary reaction as she rolled her eyes at the mention of her ex-husband’s fiancée. Lauren would do anything for attention; she was probably basking in a massive outpouring of sympathy surrounding her right now. She realized her automatic response had not escaped the astute detective, as his next words proved.
“Not a fan of Lauren McBain, are you?”
Dave spoke quickly, allowing his sister-in-law time to regain her composure by focusing the detective’s attention on him. “I don’t think Cath’s feelings about Lauren are relative, do you, Steve? Besides, if you’ve met her, I’m sure you’ve formed the same opinion we all share.” He paused to make sure his friend understood the unspoken implications behind his words. “Now, why don’t you tell us what happened to Adam? Since Catherine was out of town last night, she certainly can’t be a suspect. Right now, she’s got a son anxious for her return home.”
Stephen nodded, then said, “I haven’t suggested your sister-in-law is a suspect, Dave. I was merely commenting on the strained relationship between Mr. James’ ex-wife and his current fiancée. In fact, Lauren McBain claimed in her statement that she had been personally attacked by Ms. James.”
“What!” Catherine shrieked, making no attempt to mask her sudden burst of surprise and anger. A rosy flush crept up her neck and bloomed in her cheeks. “My ex-husband and I haven’t had much contact since our divorce. In fact, Matthew hasn’t seen his father in almost eight years. We wrote him out of our lives long ago.” Sarcasm filled her voice as she spoke. “Why would I have any feelings whatsoever about anyone he was associated with now? I could care less what goes on...went on in that man’s life. I certainly don’t give a hoot about Miss Lauren McBain.”
“You didn’t throw punch and food on her at the Cancer Society Benefit in June?” Stephen asked.
Catherine could only stare at the man before her as if he’d lost his mind. She managed to stifle the grin, which threatened her lips as she recalled the scene from the charity event, though the glimmer in her eyes exposed her amusement. “Ah, the embittered ex-wife threw her drink at the new, adored fiancée, causing Lauren much embarrassment and humiliation in front of her new high society friends. I can hear her lies now. I’m certain she didn’t tell you what really happened. She grabbed my arm and yanked me towards her. She caused my plate and its contents to go crashing to the floor and the bubbly in my champagne flute to go flying in her direction. She didn’t tell you the real story, did she?”
Stephen shook his head. “That’s not the way she told it.”
“Listen, Detective Moore, I had no idea they were engaged at that time and had never met her before that night. I had no idea who she was. She accosted me. Startled me and created the incident. As I said, I could care less what Adam did, or didn’t do, with his life. As long as he stayed out of mine. Which he did. Mostly.”
“I see. There’s certainly two sides to this story.”
“I was there that night, Steve. Cath is telling the truth. We were standing near the refreshment table, just got our drinks and snacks, when the crazy bitch tried to start a catfight. We left right after that.”
“What did she say to you, Ms. James?”
“Apparently, Adam told her a cock and bull story about how I’ve kept him away from his son and haven’t allowed him to see Matthew. She wanted to . . . convince me what a wonderful father Adam would be. Of course, this poor, deprived man has never paid a dime in child support. Nor has he ever requested to spend any time with his son.” Until last night.
Stephen noted the strange look which crossed her lovely features. He had met the future Mrs. James and instantly disliked the whining and phony female. She had put on a dramatic show for the entire department when she had burst from the elevator doors, crying and sobbing for the news crew, which was following her. Lauren’s bleached blonde hair and carefully painted face had turned many of the men’s heads, along with her ample show of cleavage. He doubted her grief had been real, though the expression on Catherine’s face said there was much more to this estranged relationship than she was telling him. He glanced down at the file on his desk and asked, “You said you were out of town last night, Ms. James?”
“Yes, I attended a seminar in Atlanta.”
“Where did you stay?”
“At the Marriott on Peachtree. The sessions lasted for two days, and then we took a certification exam today.”
Stephen wrote the information on the pad in front of him as he said, “I’m sure we can easily verify this information. You’re not a suspect, but we have to cover all the bases, especially after the complaints and accusations by Ms. McBain.”
“What exactly did the lying bitch say?” Dave demanded.
“I really can’t discuss her statement with you at this time. If anything comes up that I need clarification on, I’ll be sure to contact you. Do either of you know anyone who wanted Mr. James killed? Or any motive for his murder?”
Dave and Catherine shook their heads in unison before he asked her, “Do you own a gun, Ms. James?”
“No, I don’t.” Damn, why had she lied!
“Fine. That’s all the questions I have for you right now. I assume you’ll be available should anything else come up?” At Catherine’s nod, he continued, “As for what happened to your ex-husband last night, Mr. James’ maid found him at six this morning in his study. He was sitting in his chair, apparently having a drink, when someone shot him in the head four times. Death was immediate.”
“Do you have any idea who did this?” Dave asked.
“Not at the moment. We found a gun buried in the garden behind the pool house. It was registered to Adam James, but it had been recently fired. It’s been sent to the lab for fingerprinting and a ballistics match-up.”
“What kind of gun was it?” Dave asked.
“A thirty eight. It was fired at close range, so we assume that whoever did this was known to Mr. James. There was no evidence of forced entry or a struggle of any kind.” The detective focused his attention on Catherine once more. “When was the last time you saw your ex-husband, Ms. James?”
Catherine was picturing Adam sitting in his favorite chair, sipping a Scotch with his hateful glare sending its own kind of bullets through her. She knew well the garden behind the pool house, the one she had designed to ensure privacy around the pool. The thirty-eight pistol Adam had given her for a wedding present—the weapon she’d put in her SUV underneath the seat for protection while she traveled—flashed its image across her mind.
Dizziness assailed her as trepidation enveloped her weary body. Golden lights flickered before her sea blue eyes and a buzzing sensation tingled in her ears. Her garden! Her gun! Her past tormentor!
Oh, God, I’m in deep trouble. Damn all these dangerous deceptions! They’re going to destroy me. Adam is going to win our war, even from the grave. Or the morgue. Wherever the bastard is lying in wait . . .