“Dirty cops?” She snorted, “Can’t say I’m not surprised. What? They’re doing illegal things on the side? Being paid off or something?”
“Among other things, yes.” He tilted her head up and looked into her eyes. “I don’t think you should go to them about this, Victoria. Let me see what else I can uncover first.” They locked eyes. “Victoria, I need you to try to remember that night.”
“Do you know how much therapy I’ve gone through to try to forget that night?”
“It’s time to remember.”
Victoria was suddenly enveloped in an overwhelming feeling of fear and vulnerability. She stood as Anthony continued to gaze at her.
“That’s enough for tonight.”
Taking her cue, he stood. “Victoria, I’m concerned for you.”
“There’s no need. I can take care of myself.”
“Alright then. Be safe. Keep my number close. I’ll call soon.” He walked to the entry way and paused. Turning around, he said, “Victoria? I think it’s best for you to keep this close, for now. Don’t tell anyone.”
She nodded and watched him walk out the door.
Chapter 10
“Vanilla latte, extra whip cream.” Danny handed her his gift.
Jenny slid her glasses on her head and smiled. “Ah, thank you. Come on back.”
He followed her through the locked double doors and into the lab. The unique odor of the place always made him cringe.
She led him to the exam table in the back. “Alright, so, dude’s not William King.”
“Okay, so who the hell is he?”
Pulling back the blanket they peered down at the charred remains of a human.
“There’s no ID in the system.”
“You’re joking.”
“Nope.”
“You did a fingerprint?”
“Right, there was just enough skin for that and nothing came up.”
“So what can you tell me?”
“The victim is a male, five foot ten inches and of Hispanic descent. He’s about thirty-seven years old.”
“Hispanic?”
“Yep. Maybe that’s why there’s no ID in the system, could be traveling or an illegal, with no record, of course.”
Danny ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay, I’ll reach out to my contact in Mexico and have him run the print ithrough their database.”
Jenny sipped her coffee, eyeing him over the rim. “So, where’s William King?”
“Exactly.”
She covered up the body. “Sounds like you’ve got an interesting case on your hands.”
“It appears so. Thanks, Jenny.”
“Thanks for the coffee. See? I’m not so evil this early in the morning as long as I have my latte.”
Danny laughed, and while holding his breath, he briskly exited the lab and dialed the station.
“Wilson here.”
“Meet me in my office in ten minutes with everything you’ve got on Victoria Henry.”
“I just finished up this morning, will do, sir.”
Ten minutes later, Danny sat behind his desk while Rookie Wilson nervously thumbed through his report.
Irritated and impatient, Danny leaned forward. “Wilson, I’ll read the full report later, just give me the highlights.”
Wilson cleared his throat. “Yes, sir. Most interesting is that her father was murdered when she was young. The case went cold.”
“Murdered?”
“Yes, home invasion. His throat was slashed by two male intruders. She watched the whole thing. Messed her up pretty bad.”
He let that sink in for a moment. He knew she had hidden something in her past, and this was it. Danny had responded to plenty of calls where children were exposed to horrific things. And, life never seemed to turn out well for the children, and that never sat well for Danny.
“Was she not able to identify the murderers?”
“According to the report, no. They were masked.” He pulled out a piece of paper. “She said it appeared they were asking him questions—trying to get something out of him. When he didn’t respond, they slit his throat.”
“Could she hear what they were asking?”
“She said no, but then she went silent. Literally. She quit speaking for over a year.”
He pondered for a moment. “Where was her mom?”
“Died giving birth to her. Victoria moved in with her grandmother after her dad died.”
“Hmm.”
“But here’s the doozy. Her father worked at King Chemicals. The same company Victoria’s husband owned before he died in the house fire.”
Danny decided against telling him that William was possibly still alive.
“I guess her dad worked there when Williams’s father ran it; he was the founder.”
Danny leaned forward. “Quite a coincidence. What leads did they have before the case went cold?”
“Suspicion that her father was involved in selling the company’s chemicals on the black market, to the highest bidder.”
“No shit?”
“No shit. But they could never confirm it. FBI even got involved. Those records are sealed, of course.”
Danny tapped his pencil on the desk. “Put in a request to the Chief to obtain those records.”
“Yes, sir.”
He extended his hand, requesting the folder. “Now, go do the same research for King Chemicals, William King, his father, and Victoria’s father. I want to know absolutely everything there is to know about the company and the family.”
Wilson’s shoulders dropped as if he’d just been asked to run a marathon, in the pouring rain. “Yes, sir.”
“Wilson, this is your only priority right now. If anyone gives you shit, have them come to me.”
He exhaled relief. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
As Wilson walked out of his office, Danny thumbed through the thick folder containing information on Victoria’s past.
The notes stated that Victoria had gone through years and years of therapy after her father’s death. Severe PTSD manifested in anxiety, obsessive compulsive behavior and social withdrawal. Apparently, the doctor believed she had developed inability to establish and/or maintain close relationships, due to an intentional inhibition of emotions, ie: emotional walls, as Danny would call it. Victoria remained in therapy until she was eighteen years old. On the day of her birthday, she packed up and left her grandmother’s home; the old woman died shortly thereafter. Throughout early adulthood, Victoria jumped around from job to job, from city to city. No serious relationships, until she met William.
He tucked the folder under his arm, grabbed his keys and sped to her gallery downtown.
* * * *
Sitting in her office, Victoria scanned the security camera images of the gallery’s last party. She paused on an image of William and her entering through the front doors. Her stomach sank. To the outside world, they looked genuinely happy. Like they had it all. William looked as dashing as always in his black Gucci suit. She looked happy as well, but dead behind the eyes.
Clicking through the images, she found the one she was looking for. A short, busty blonde conversing with her husband in the corner. Victoria squinted and leaned closer to the monitor. The blonde was attractive, a kind of girl-next-door attractive. She wore a fitted blue dress, low-cut enough to show off her cleavage, and six inch metallic heels. The two were indeed in an intense conversation, possibly arguing. They both stood close to each other, intimately.
You idiot, she thought as she looked close at her husband. Her stomach soured at him being so obvious in her gallery. Victoria had never been jealous of the women William had on the side, but she’d be damned if he made her look like a fool.
She printed two copies of the picture, one copy for herself and one for Anthony. Heels off, she walked to the printer, gathered the pictures and made her way back to her painting room.
Instead of sitting at her stool, she walked to the window. The golden light of dawn sp
arkled off the river. Bicyclists cruised along the sidewalk, dodging the joggers. True to the season, the trees were starting to become bare, as their colorful leaves fell off one by one. Morning rush house traffic was picking up.
She suddenly froze and a chill ran up her spine.
Directly below her window, a dark figure stood, staring up at her. He was dressed in dark clothing, a low baseball cap and sunglasses. She straightened her back and put her hand on the window, peering closer.
The figure stood still as the world raced around it. She couldn’t make out the face, but there was no doubt he was looking directly at her. Goosebumps ran over her arms.
Tearing her eyes away, she walked back over to her computer and clicked through her security program, making sure everything was locked and all cameras were on.
Ding.
Startled, she sucked back a scream.
The front doorbell. She pushed away from her desk and glanced back out the window. The figure was gone.
Feeling uneasy, she made her way up front.
Her face dropped when she saw him. He casually leaned up against the brick wall, both hands in his pockets, like he didn’t have a care in the world.
She opened the door and tried to hide her disdain. “Lieutenant.”
“Mrs. Henry.” He smiled smugly.
“The gallery isn’t open yet, please come back at ten.”
He put his hand on the door, holding it open. “Now works for me.” He glanced behind her at the dark rooms and sarcastically asked, “Busy?”
She rolled her eyes and stepped back. “Come in.”
He stared at her as if she initiated this meeting and he was waiting for the point.
She clicked her tongue. “What can I do you for, Lieutenant?”
He didn’t bother sugarcoating the news, and went straight to the point. “Mrs. Henry, the burned body found in your house does not belong to your husband.”
Breathlessly, she whispered, “What?” Her stomach hit the floor, the blood drained from her face. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
“Did you already know that, Mrs. Henry?”
She blinked at his directness, then snapped, “Of course not. Are you sure it’s not him?”
“Yes.”
A million thoughts began running through her mind. She shook her head. “That can’t be correct.”
“It is correct.”
She looked down, her eyes wide with shock. Under her breath she said, “He’s still alive.” She looked up. “Where the hell is he?”
Danny looked past her into the dark gallery. “Is there somewhere we can sit down?”
“Oh…yes. My office.”
Her head spun with this new information. Where the hell was William? And more importantly, why the hell hasn’t he reached out to her? Her mind raced as she led Danny to the back.
“Nice office.”
She took her seat behind the large oak desk.
“Mrs. Henry, do you know where your husband is?”
Without hesitation, she responded, “No. Do you?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Have you been in contact with him?”
“No.” Pause. “If the body is not my husband’s, whose is it?”
“Unidentified.”
“Of course.”
“What do you mean?”
“Of course you don’t know whose body it is.” Her tone reeked of irritability. “It seems you don’t know much, Mr. Dabrowski.”
“You sound like my ex-wife.”
“She must have been a smart woman.”
He cocked his head. “You haven’t been exactly straightforward, Mrs. Henry.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Let’s set aside the fact that you’ve given us only minimal information thus far, and you seem to have a dark past.”
Her palms began to sweat. She wiped them on her skirt underneath the table and thought of Anthony’s warning about dirty cops. “I don’t see how that’s relevant.”
“Maybe not. You tell me if it’s relevant or not, Mrs. Henry.”
“I don’t care to play your cop mind games.”
“I’m not playing games.” He leaned back. “Victoria, why aren’t you being forthcoming and helpful in this investigation, other than because of your obvious disdain for law enforcement.”
“So this is an official investigation?”
“You’re a smart lady, I’m sure you’ve already put that together.”
They engaged in an intense stare off.
“Well, then, I guess I have no choice but to be helpful.” She smiled a sarcastic smile. “I can start now. Mr. Dabrowski, would you like a cup of coffee?” Her voice was as sweet as sugar but dripping with sarcasm.
He smiled, sat back and kicked his feet up on her desk. “Absolutely. Cream and sugar, ma’am. I’ll just wait here while you get it for me.”
She glared at him as she left the room.
Danny waited until her footsteps faded down the hall. He quickly stepped to her desk and began rifling through the stacks of papers. Home insurance information, bank information–whoa—, emails from her lawyer. But then, he noticed the black and white security printouts. He picked up the image of William and a blonde hovering in a corner. Hearing the click of her heels on the marble, he stuck the image in his pocket and sat back down.
She bent at the waist, like a waitress at a fancy restaurant, and delicately handed him the mug. “Cream and sugar. Sir.”
“Ah, thank you.” He took a sip. “Mmm, delicious.”
“I’m pleased you like it. Now. How can I be more helpful?”
“Do you have any muffins?”
Another glare.
“No? Okay, maybe next time then. Well, you can start by telling me if you know where your husband is.”
“I’ve already told you I don’t. Do you?”
“No. When was the last time you two had any contact?”
“The morning of the fire, before I left for work.”
“What did you two talk about?”
“Normal things. Good morning, did you sleep well, etcetera.”
“Did he mention anything about his day?”
“No. He rarely discusses details of his work with me.”
“That doesn’t annoy you?”
“Why would it?”
“It’s a normal thing for a husband and wife to talk about their employment with each other.”
“Did you and your ex-wife discuss your employment?”
“This isn’t about me.”
“No, it isn’t.”
He sipped his coffee. “I’ll need to see your phone records, Mrs. Henry.”
“Not without a warrant.”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about you not being helpful, Mrs. Henry.”
“I’m not going to let you rifle through my personal life.”
“Even if that assists in finding your husband?”
She paused.
“Don’t you wonder where he is?”
“I’ve only just learned that my husband is still alive, but, yes, of course I do.”
“Is it true that he was unfaithful to you?”
Victoria sat expressionless as a moment of silence ticked by.
“Do you miss him, Victoria?”
She set her jaw and narrowed her eyes. “As much as I miss you when you walk out the door.”
Danny raised his eyebrows, then said, “Did you love your husband?”
She stood. “That’s enough, Dabrowski.”
He stood. “Not nearly.”
She took a moment to compose herself as she smoothed her cream cashmere sweater and navy pencil skirt. “Lieutenant, aside from irritating me beyond my limit, you’re wasting your time with me.”
“Tell me about your father.”
She dropped her hands. “It’s time for you to leave.”
He didn’t move. “You’re only making this hard on yourself. You can speak with me, or I can haul yo
u down to the station.”
“Haul me down to the station? What am I? A suspect? I didn’t murder my husband.”
“I’m not saying you did, but you’re not helping to convince me otherwise. Regardless, I need to hear the story about your father’s murder–directly from you.”
“Why? My father’s murder was thirty years ago.”
For the first time, he saw emotion in her eyes. Sadness, fear, vulnerability.
She quickly looked down.
He took a step closer and laid his hand on her desk. “Look, Victoria, I know it’s been a hell of a few days for you.” Consoling certainly wasn’t one of his strengths. “I just want to sit down and talk. Have an open and honest conversation about your father, and about William.”
“Do you think there’s a connection between my father and what’s going on now?”
“You can help me determine if there is a connection, or if there isn’t. If you just talk to me.”
She sighed, looked up and held her arms out as if to surrender. “Okay, Lieutenant.”
“Now?”
“I’ve got some things to attend to right now. Maybe later, or tomorrow.”
“The earlier the better. Times ticking.”
“I’ll call you.”
Skepticism crossed his face. “Or, I’ll find you.”
He turned to leave.
“Lieutenant?”
“Yes?”
“In light of this new information that my husband is alive and not dead, I can only assume that the department will keep this quiet until William returns.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you. I’ll walk you out.”
They walked silently up to the front.
One foot out the door, Danny turned around. “I’ll see you soon, Victoria.” Not waiting for a response, he turned and stepped onto the sidewalk. Her heart skipped a beat as she noticed Anthony a block up, walking her way. She held her breath as they passed each other. The two men nodded in passing. She let out a loud exhale of relief as she stepped out to greet Anthony.
“Good morning, Victoria.”
She smiled. “Good morning. Please, come in.” She took one last glance outside to make sure Danny hasn’t noticed her visitor.
Anthony seemed rushed, lacking his cool and calm demeanor. “Do you have the security pictures?”
“Yes, in my office.”
She led him to the back.
Lethal Legacy Page 9