What if Ashlyn’s son looked, sounded, and acted as these men did, though? Would it bother him? He shook the thoughts from his head. At least Gregory had seemed genuinely in love with Laura. He could have been lying, of course. The family had obviously held some dark secrets for years.
“Gregory, what do you think you’re doing?” the older gentleman spit out. Literally. Mark leaned back, hoping not to catch any spraying spittle. “I’ve—”
The younger Burke held up a finger, cutting off his father’s words mid-sentence. “Excuse me, Dad.” Gregory turned back to Mark. “I’m confused. You think my fiancée was asking me about a woman my family might have known who was related to my ex-girlfriend. Why?”
“Excuse me, Detective Waters, is it?” Gregory’s father wagged a finger at him. “Your father was Wilson Waters, right?”
Mark nodded.
“He was a fine detective. I knew him and the other fellas at the station. I just so happen to be good friends with the police commissioner. I don’t think he’d take kindly to you badgering citizens in their home. If you have any more questions for my son, I suggest you go about it the proper way. I’ll be contacting my attorney immediately.”
Mark wasted no time. He stood to leave.
Gregory looked between his father and Mark. “What’s going on? I don’t have a problem answering a few questions. I haven’t done anything.”
The older man crossed his arms. “Doesn’t matter.”
Mark refused to look at the older Burke and turned his gaze back to Gregory. “I just had a few questions about a man that your family was involved with years ago who turned up dead a few days ago. Evidently your father would rather you not answer a few questions.”
“Not without an attorney present,” the elder Mr. Burke said, moving closer to his son’s desk as though he were a sentry sent to protect the prince.
Mark tipped his head as if he wore a hat. He didn’t dare ask a question once a suspect requested an attorney. Anything a person of interest in a case said from that point without their lawyer present could endanger getting an arrest warrant or conviction in court if it ever went that far. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Burke. I’ll be in touch.”
Mark showed himself to the door and headed back to Laura’s house. It was hard to know if the info he had gathered would help or not. If Ashlyn’s mother had known that the Burkes had connections to her grandmother’s death, wouldn’t she have said something years ago? After all, that would have made her an heir. That would have been one hell of a slap in the face to the man who’d dumped you for another woman.
But Laura had tried to get back together with Gregory after Jessica had been murdered. Two things in that scenario didn’t fit. If she’d known, and she’d tried to get back together, it would have meant that she knew he was her first cousin, and that was illegal in Pennsylvania. And if Laura had told Jessica, thinking she’d tell Gregory, that’d hurt her case of him ever coming back to her rather than help it.
Of course, when had Laura Allan ever been rational? Before today, that is. In the mere six months he’d known her, he’d witnessed a spoiled, fame-seeking woman who wasn’t even above using her daughter in order to accomplish her goals.
With nothing but time to fill during the long ride, his mind continued to wander. Then finally, without his consent, his thoughts traveled back to his episode in Gregory’s office. It’d been so real, but then again, it hadn’t. Jay’s image had been as real as any human body until he tried to touch her; then her body had been ethereal.
He thought back to the few times they’d spoken, how she’d backed away from him every time he stepped toward her. Her face had been so clear, so pale, almost fake-looking in its beauty, he realized.
As silly as he felt, he decided to try to connect with her, even if she was a ghost. “Jay, can you hear me?”
Nothing.
Since he was the most stubborn man, according to his mother and Ashlyn, and admittedly, he knew it too, he spent the entirety of the trip pleading with Jay to talk to him, even though he didn’t believe in ghosts.
Still nothing.
He pulled onto Ashlyn’s driveway and dragged himself up the stoop. Almost fifteen hours of driving in just a little over twenty-four hours and spending hours in the car attempting to make contact with a ghost, who suddenly didn’t want to connect, was tiring.
Under normal circumstances, the captain would’ve cussed him out for calling in sick during an investigation, but oddly enough, Mark was certain he wouldn’t complain too much this time. Mark decided that he’d stay at Laura’s another night, making sure he questioned her this time, and then tomorrow, he and Ashlyn would drive home together.
The front door to the house opened before he touched it. Her eyes were expectant, but evidently reading the distress in his, her demeanor fell quickly. “Is everything okay? What did you find out? Do they know?” Ashlyn threw several questions at him all at once.
Noticing that Laura’s car was in the driveway, Mark took her hand and led her down the steps to his truck without speaking. He closed her in the passenger side and then hopped up into the cab beside her.
Why was he so tired? He lowered his head to the steering wheel, feeling as though he could sleep right there.
“You okay?” she asked as she scooted next to him.
Unable to speak, he shook his head.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” She nudged his head up from the steering wheel. “What did he say? Did he threaten you?”
Mark couldn’t help the spurt of laughter that burst out of his mouth at the thought of Ashlyn protecting him from the big, bad Burkes, but it looked as though she were ready to take them on singlehandedly. Unfortunately, the humor was short-lived.
He threw his head against the headrest and exhaled a long sigh. “I think I’m going mad, Ashlyn,” was all he said.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you don’t believe what I saw, and I don’t understand why it’s clearer to me, but I know what I saw.” He shook his head. “I never told you the rest of it because I didn’t want you to think I was crazy. But even before I saw your great-grandmother’s image, the night I investigated the scene I heard someone whispering, and then I felt something clamp down on my shoulder. I don’t understand how or why, but I think I have a connection to ghosts.”
“I don’t understand, Mark. Why are you talking about this now? That was six months ago. Why would you think I’d suddenly think you were crazy now?”
“Because Edda’s ghost isn’t the only one I’ve seen. I’ve been talking to a woman, Ashlyn. A twenty-two-year-old redhead who works at the library.” Ashlyn’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, she’s pretty, but you have nothing to fear. Not that you would anyway, but the woman I’ve been talking to the last couple of days is the ghost of a woman who was murdered twenty-eight years ago.”
Ashlyn laughed, but then seeing his expression, covered her mouth. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly—sorry, no pun intended.” He dropped his head. “I don’t know what this means.”
“I don’t think it means anything, Mark.” She moved closer and rested her hand on his forearm. “Some people have the ability to sense things that others don’t, I guess.”
“Are you sure? Because I’ve been thinking maybe I need a rubber room.”
Ashlyn restrained a laugh again.
“I’m glad you can laugh about this,” he said. “How would you like not knowing whether someone is real or fake? I didn’t know that she was a ghost until today when I reached out for her.”
Ashlyn bolted upright and did the head-bobbing thing before she even started speaking. “And why were you reaching out for her?”
“Baby, would you please give the jealousy bit a rest? I swear to God, I have no desire for any other woman. I asked you—no, begged you to marry me. I’ve begged you to come home for days. Drove five flippin’ hours to be with you and then drove another five hours to talk to Gregory Burke, and back to you again. Then I
tell you I’m having conversations with a dead woman and you’re wondering if I’m cheating on you—”
“I’m sorry,” she jumped in before he could say anymore.
“It’s okay. I just can’t imagine why you’d even think for a second I’d want another woman, when I’ve spent every day of the last six months showing you how much I want you.”
“I know…” she whimpered. “Can I blame it on hormones and the body of a whale?”
He laughed. “You don’t have the body of a whale. You look like a beautiful pregnant woman. So cut it out.” He nudged up her chin so he could look her in the eyes. “Did you feel like a whale last night?”
“No,” she said, blushing. “Not at all.”
“All right then.” He sighed. “Are you ready for the rest of my story?”
She nodded.
He proceeded to give her the play-by-play of the conversations with Jay from the first day at the library, the dreams, and then his almost nervous breakdown at the Burkes’ residence.
“You know,” he said through a laugh, “I should have known from the first day.” Ashlyn cocked her head to the side and laughed in response to his laugh. “When Tim Townsend didn’t start making crude jokes from the first day at the library, I should have known. I just assumed he hadn’t seen her, but I should have known that Tim wouldn’t have missed a twenty-two-year-old college student with blazing-red hair.”
“I’m not being jealous, Mark, but it sounds as though you really were attracted to her.”
“No…she doesn’t have your beautiful curves, she’s too short, and too young—” he laughed again. “Actually, now that I know the truth, she’s too old. She’s almost the same age as my mother. Captain Davis evidently had dated her all through high school until she hooked up with your mom’s beau.” Mark stopped, realizing what he’d only briefly thought about the previous evening. “They all went to high school together. Which means they all knew each other. Which means that Davis and your mother knew each other.”
“What are you talking about?”
Mark forgot he was talking with one of the suspects’ family members, and sadly, Laura Allan was a suspect. Yes, Ashlyn was his fiancée, but if her mother was a murderer, he couldn’t cover up her crime.
“We need to go inside,” Mark said, attempting to keep the urgency he felt out of his tone. He didn’t want to upset his pregnant fiancée any more than he probably already had.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Mark scrutinized Laura Allan, hoping to get a baseline for her body language during normal conversation as she made small talk over their meal.
Body language—if you knew the person’s usual mannerisms, gestures, and facial expressions—could be just as effective as a lie detector, if not more so. He could still read a stranger’s body language, but some actions were hard to discern. If a person was insecure, an interviewer could misconstrue normal actions of crossing their arms and legs or not looking a person in the eye, as lying, when they were just accustomed to shielding themselves from the world.
Laura was anything but shy and insecure. She was bold, and more often than not, she usually dominated the conversation, turning every discussion back to her. Tonight, however, everything seemed strained, as if she wanted to speak, but wasn’t sure how to broach a subject. Not only did she nod and smile at everything Ashlyn and he said—without adding her own personal anecdotes—but she nervously darted her eyes around the room, as though she suspected someone may overhear her words and come crashing through the door.
“So, how was Gregory?” she finally asked midway through the meal without either of them prompting the question. Mark hadn’t even known that Ashlyn had told her mother that he’d gone to speak with Gregory Burke this morning.
“Fine, I suppose,” Mark said. “Last time we spoke he’d looked older, but his son had just died. I’d imagine losing someone you loved would hurt. Especially after tragically losing his fiancée so many years ago.”
Laura nodded. “Yes, and having an only child, like me. I can’t imagine losing Ashlyn.” She reached over and squeezed her daughter’s hand, and Ashlyn looked as shocked at receiving the attention as Laura did for offering it. It was clear that they didn’t hug when they saw each other. Unlike Mark and his mom, who if they hadn’t seen each other for more than a few days, there was always a good, long hug before anything else.
Mark decided just to throw his first question out there and watch her response. “So, Laura, do you think Gregory killed his fiancée?”
Laura almost choked on her food. “Why on earth would you think that? Jessica’s father killed her and her mother. Gregory was devastated.”
Mark tilted his head just slightly to show his interest in her comment. The more interested a detective appeared in a suspect, not necessarily the situation, the more likely a person was to open up. “Oh, really, did you talk with Gregory after her death?”
Out of his peripherals, Mark saw Ashlyn’s head turn back and forth, as though she were watching a tennis match.
“Well, no, he wouldn’t take my calls. Not until a few years later, but that’s because he was so devastated.”
“Did you know Jessica?”
“Barely. She was a grade below us, so I was too busy being a cheerleader and all.”
“I’ll bet,” Mark said, struggling to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, but knowing he’d failed.
Ashlyn tapped his knee under the table, and he knew without looking at her that she was saying, ‘See what I’ve had to put up with?’ He squeezed her hand to let her know he understood.
“So, Laura,” he continued. “Since you were so busy in high school, did you ever talk to Jessica after you graduated?”
She took a sip of water before answering. “Not really. Maybe once or twice in the library.”
He nodded, knowing she’d just told him a half-truth. “How ’bout Andrew Davis? Did you know him?”
This time her head jerked up from her plate. “Is there something you’re trying to ask me, Mark?”
Mark shook his head, working to keep his expression innocent and open. He should have known that as shallow as the woman was, she was probably still intelligent and would see through his queries.
“Not really,” he lied lightly, “but it’s kind of nice that you know all these people I know. You can be of great help to me understanding their character. It just seems that if Davis was in the same grade as you, played football and all, that you would have known him too. So it interests me.”
Laura pulled in a breath and swallowed, then went back for more water. “Yes. I knew Andrew. He was actually one of the first kids I met when I started at Edenbury high school.”
“Did you two ever date?”
At that question, Laura laughed. “I’m sorry. Don’t get me wrong, he was cute and all, but he wasn’t my type.”
“Meaning?” Mark prompted, surprised that Laura hadn’t shut him down yet. He knew what type Davis wasn’t, but he wanted to hear her say it. It made him wonder what lengths she would take to get the man she wanted.
“Well, you know…I just didn’t see a future with him. No offense, Mark, you’re great, but back then, I didn’t see myself with a cop.”
Mark digested that piece of information. Davis obviously wasn’t a cop in high school, so Laura had slipped forward a few years, it seemed. “So, how many times did you go out?”
Ashlyn looked at him, and he squeezed her leg gently to let her know he knew what he was doing. But then again, she probably wouldn’t be too happy if she knew what he was doing.
Laura made a few noises but didn’t actually say anything. She knew he’d caught her in her blunder, but evidently, she wasn’t a very good liar and was afraid to talk.
“It’s okay, Laura. I know you went out a few times,” he said. On the surface, it was a lie, but since he was ninety-nine percent sure they’d dated, it didn’t feel like a lie.
Not that it mattered. A common misbelief among criminals was that police off
icers had to tell the truth. When in fact, they could say just about anything they wanted to get a confession, as long as they didn’t threaten the suspect or fabricate evidence. Often he’d found if he acted as though he understood the suspect’s crime, identified with their plight, they’d open up to him and confess.
Laura dropped her head. “We didn’t really go out. We just happened across each other one night. He was upset; I was upset…” she trailed off.
As much as Mark wanted to prompt her to continue, he held off, hoping she’d feel compelled to finish her statement.
“It was a long time ago.” Laura rested her fork on the plate, slid her chair back, and left the dining room. After a few seconds, he heard her bedroom door shut.
“What the heck is going on?” Ashlyn’s eyes were round as the conversation started to make sense. “Wait!” She grabbed his hand. “Mark, you don’t think—”
Mark just shook his head and expelled a breath he felt as though he’d been holding the entire meal so he could hear every word Laura said.
“Mom and Captain Davis dated? And their exes were engaged to each other? Mark, you’re wrong. There’s no way that my mother—” Ashlyn pushed back her chair.
“Ashlyn…” He touched her hand.
Tears poured down her cheeks. “I can’t believe you just interrogated my mother over dinner.”
“It wasn’t like that—”
“It was exactly like that,” she seethed, pulling her hand out from underneath his and turning to leave.
Mark jumped out of his chair and blocked her path. “Okay, it was something like that, but not because I believe your mother is guilty.”
He checked himself for a second, making sure he was telling the truth. Yes, he believed Laura was innocent. He didn’t feel she had a motive to kill Jessica. And if she did possess information that the Burkes were responsible for her grandmother’s murder, he truly believed she would have announced it to the world years ago. Not that that was a great quality, but in his eyes, it did decrease her motive.
The Library: Where Life Checks Out Page 16