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Fifty-Four

Nothing in this case was straightforward, but rarely was solving a murder easy. There were still questions that needed answers, but they found out the woman shot in the rental house was Morgan Palmer. Why Palmer had been driving Barker’s Mercedes was unanswered at this point, as was the relationship between the two women. But Madison would guess the two were working together and benefiting from Elliott’s cons.

Crime Scene was combing the rental house and the harbor-front condo owned by Gloria Barker for any forensic evidence tying her to Carson’s murder. A picture Cynthia sent over confirmed that it was the same building Elliott had been captured in front of in Carson’s photos. In the meantime, Madison was at the station with Terry, getting ready to question Gloria Barker.

Madison had finally remembered where she’d seen the name Barker. It had been in Carson’s files. A Maria Barker was defrauded by Jake Elliott ten years ago. A deeper look showed that she had a daughter, Gloria, who was eighteen at the time. As for why she’d latched on to Jake Elliott, that answer wasn’t going to come from a file, but Madison had her suspicions that Gloria had tracked Jake down and blackmailed him in exchange for her silence.

“How did you know that Mary Smith was actually Gloria Barker?” Terry asked. “And does anyone go by their real name anymore?”

“It was in her eyes. And that smile. Why smile at me after someone just got shot? It was because she was feeling cocky, like she got away with everything. What happened to Palmer wasn’t an accident, and I intend to prove that.”

“You sure you want to stay? I can handle the interrogation.”

“Troy understands I want to see this through. Besides, there’s no way I’m leaving now.”

“You sure about that?”

“Why?” She angled her head. “You trying to get rid of me?”

“I might have heard something…” Terry grinned.

“Ah, of course you did.” Cops had loose lips.

“You and Troy are going to tie the knot? I heard it from Nick. Guy gossips worse than a girl, louder than a girl.”

Madison wound up and punched him in the shoulder.

“Hey.” Terry laughed and rubbed where she’d impacted him.

“That one’s been a long time coming,” she teased.

“Where’s the ring?” Terry exaggerated a search of her wedding finger.

“He didn’t have the ring at the crime scene.”

“You’re telling me that man acted on a whim, in the moment? Huh, never would have pegged him the type.”

“He’s been wanting to ask for a while; it was just the right time.” Terry didn’t need to know that she’d been the one to pop the question.

“Well, I’m happy for both of you. And it’s about time.”

She made like she was going to hit him again but started laughing.

“Congratulations,” he added.

“Thank you.” She leaned in and hugged Terry, then pulled back. “Okay, okay, now we’ve got that mushy stuff out of the way, let’s get in there.” She pointed through the two-way mirror into the interrogation room where Gloria Barker was seated at a table.

“Gloria Barker.” Madison sat across from her.

“So what? You know my name? Congratulations.”

The sweet, old lady act was gone like her wig. In its place were long blond locks released from the pins.

Madison made a display of looking inside a folder full of papers.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.”

Madison ignored her claim and said, “You graduated True Talent with a diploma in theatrical makeup.” Madison flicked a finger toward Barker’s face to indicate the wrinkles and crow’s feet around the eyes. “Almost had me fooled.”

She shrugged.

“Tell us what really happened tonight.”

Terry walked to the back of the room behind Madison, facing Barker, and proceeded to jangle the change in his pocket.

“You know what happened. I already gave my statement. Shannon—”

“Nope,” Madison cut in. “Try again.”

Barker scowled. “Morgan tripped and fell, and the gun went off.”

“Nope.”

“What the—” She stopped, her gaze going past Madison, likely to a corrective look on Terry’s face.

“To start with, the gun was fired twice. Once into the front window and once into Ms. Palmer. Her injuries were inconsistent with being self-inflicted. It’s probably a good time to get talking because I guarantee you as soon as Morgan’s out of surgery she’ll be talking.” Something that would never happen, not that Gloria would know that, because on the way to the station Madison got the call that Morgan Palmer had died before reaching the hospital.

“She’s just going to tell you what I did.”

Terry jingled his change louder, and Barker glanced at him again. Her obvious irritation had no impact on Terry as he carried on.

“She won’t get that chance. She’s dead, and I’d like to know why you killed her,” Madison tossed out now.

“She’s—” Her chin quivered and tears formed in her eyes.

Madison wagged a finger at her. “Man, you’re good. Tears on command. You might have had a future in acting.”

Barker’s chin quivered. “I didn’t kill her. I told you—”

“You’re not too broken up that she’s dead. Not really.” Madison leaned across the table. “Am I right?”

“She tripped! She brought this on herself. What was she doing carrying a gun anyway?”

“I think it was your gun, and I think you called her to your house. Why she had your car I don’t fully understand, but I’m sure we’ll get to that.”

Barker held out her hands. “Test them for GSR if you want.”

Madison smiled. “We’ll find it, and you’ll have justification for its presence. You answered the door with the gun, so you’d have deniability. It’s the other pertinents working against you—angle of entry and—”

Barker scowled.

“Why don’t you just tell me what really happened tonight?”

Barker clamped her mouth shut.

“Fine, you don’t want to talk about that. What about your mother’s bankruptcy ten years ago?”

“What about it? It has nothing to do with me.”

“Who paid for your schooling? Couldn’t have been cheap.”

“Dad did.”

“Huh. Well, I’m quite sure that Jake Elliott was the reason for your mother’s financial ruin and that you found him and threatened to expose him unless he gave you money.”

Barker slid down in her chair and shrugged.

Madison went on. “But you didn’t just want one payoff; you wanted to be set for life or as long as he could pull off the con.”

“Whatever.” Barker wiped at her face with a tissue, but the makeup remained unaffected. She still had the wrinkles of an older woman.

Madison relaxed in her chair, and Terry stopped jingling the change.

Madison continued. “More recently, you showed up at Jake’s door under the guise of being his mother and kicked out Morgan Palmer.”

“Whatever.”

“Why after all this time? Was he becoming harder to control?” She paused but Barker wasn’t talking. “And why kick Ms. Palmer out of the rental? Quite sure you two were benefiting from Jake’s cons. That sound right?”

Barker’s gaze danced to Madison’s.

Madison had struck on something there. “Where is Jake Elliott?”

She knotted her arms. “How would I know?”

“Fine.” Madison went into the folder to pull the photo from the crime scene of the GB written in blood, and there was a knock on the door. “Occupied,” Madison called out.

“There’s something you need to know.” It was Cynthia.

Madison stepped into the hall. “What is it? Why aren’t you at the rental or the condo?”

“I came back because I wanted to tell you this to your face. We found Jake Elliott.”

“Where is he? We’ll need to speak with him.”

Cynthia’s face went grim. “His body was in a large chest freezer in the basement of the rental. He was shot.”

Madison stumbled back and leaned against the wall. “Morgan Palmer said he was probably living in his mother’s basement.”

“Interesting.”

A picture was forming in Madison’s mind, and it wasn’t a pretty one. “I wonder if the two women killed him,” she said. “But why?”

“Don’t know, but there are a couple other things you should know. You were interested in the call history on Elliott’s phone from a few weeks back—Terry asked for my help,” she clarified. “Anyway, one of the calls placed on that Friday evening was to a number tied to Gloria Barker.”

“Okay, confirms again that Elliott and Barker were working together,” Madison said. “And with Barker’s and Palmer’s phones, I’m sure we’ll get all we need to prove their alliance.”

“Yes. And there’s something else you need to know. I looked at the city’s video again with a real close eye for who was behind the wheel of the Mercedes SUV. It was a woman with long blond hair.” Cynthia pulled out a photo from a folder she held and gave it to Madison.

Long blond locks. “Gloria Barker.”

“Could be. I haven’t seen her.”

“Oh, no, it’s her. She was at the bar that night because she knew Carson was getting ready to expose Elliott and maybe they’d arranged to meet. Gloria did what she had to in order to protect the free ride she had going. Gloria Barker is GB, I have no doubt.”

“Crazy.” Cynthia shook her head. “But, like you said, why kill Elliott? Carson was out of the way.”

“Could be that Elliott found out what Barker had done. Or he was there.” She felt herself pale and added, “He could con women, but murder might have panged his conscience. He could have become a liability that needed to be silenced.” Madison would be asking Barker, but whether she’d get a straight answer was another thing.

“And you have to wonder what Jake thought of all this. The two women pairing up behind his back.”

“It’s too late to ask him, but it’s fair game, if you ask me. What about the knife that stabbed Carson—have you found it?”

Cynthia smiled. “Someone’s a little greedy.”

“Never hurts to ask. Take that as a no?”

“It’s a no.”

“Thanks for everything, and this.” Madison held up the picture and returned to the room. She slapped the photo in front of Barker.

Barker tensed but recovered her composure quickly. “That’s me. So what? Is there a law against a person driving their own car?”

Madison smiled.

“What?” Barker snapped.

“You’re coming out of Luck of the Irish, a pub on Burnham Street.”

“I know the place. So what?”

“I’m quite sure you attacked this woman outside the pub. Her injuries killed her.” Madison pulled a photo of Chantelle Carson lying just as they’d found her in that shed and smacked it on the table.

“Who’s that?”

Not so much as a glimmer of remorse or even a stab of shock at the sight of a dead body. Gloria Barker was a psychopath. “Ah, too late for denial. You told us you knew her when you were playing your role as Mary Smith.”

A smile that had been playing on the edge of Barker’s lips disappeared.

“But I’ll remind you. Her name was Chantelle Carson.” Madison slapped a photo of GB written in blood in front of Barker. “Chantelle even identified her murderer.”

Barker swallowed roughly, fidgeted, and cried out, “She came at me! Waving a knife around. I just defended myself.”

Madison leaned toward believing that Carson had gone to Luck of the Irish that fateful night with murder on her mind, just not her own. She never did hear if there was any forensic proof to back that suspicion. “You could have called for help, but you didn’t.”

Barker looked at the tabletop. “I was in shock.”

“Uh-huh.” Madison didn’t believe that for one second. She probably didn’t want an investigation that would expose the little operation she had going or for the police to find Jake Elliott. She leaned forward. “Tell me this—was it self-defense when you shot Jake Elliott?”

Terry stopped jingling change and stepped up beside Madison.

“Jake Elliott’s body was discovered in a chest freezer in the basement of the rental house,” she explained to Terry.

“What?” Barker cried out. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Excuse me if I don’t believe you. Doubt a jury will either. You’ll be going to prison for a very long time. You probably shot Morgan with the same gun that you used to shoot Jake.”

“Morgan did that!”

“Easy to blame dead people.”

“I’m telling you the truth.” Tears sprung to her eyes.

“And I guess you two were friends, eh. Probably why she had your car tonight. But tell me, why did you two kill Jake? Did he find out what you did to Chantelle and threaten to turn you in?”

“Last I saw her, she was still alive.”

Madison remained silent.

Barker’s tears dried, and her gaze steeled. “All this is his fault! He was a stupid idiot who didn’t cover his tracks. That’s how Chantelle found us, and she was going to bring a stop to everything.”

“By everything, you mean your payday.”

Barker dramatically rolled her eyes.

“But why kill Jake?” Madison asked. “You stopped the threat.”

Barker’s nostrils flared, and she clenched her jaw.

“He was going to turn you in for what you did to Chantelle,” Madison concluded.

“I don’t need to talk to you anymore.”

No denial, and Madison took that as confirmation. “Well, it was nice of you to hand over the gun. But if you could just tell us where you put the knife you stabbed Chantelle with, that would be helpful.”

“Go to hell. And I want that lawyer!”

Madison smiled as the left the room. Another case closed, and the killer apprehended. Definitely worth the utter exhaustion seeping in her bones.