“I know you can drive yourself, but should you?” He put his hand on her cheek and turned her face to him. The concern in his eyes threatened her resolve and she turned away.
“Someone could see us…,” Sarah mumbled.
“I’ll just drop you off at your attorney’s,” he suggested.
“I don’t want Diana to see you here either. Just go home, Brett. I’ll call you when I can.”
****
Hours later, Sarah was led into a cold gray room with “Interview” etched into the glass on the door. She wondered if that was designed to make people believe they were not being interrogated. An officer pointed to a utilitarian metal chair and she took a seat as he left the room and closed the door behind him. She mindlessly wiped her fingers on her jeans, trying to remove the last remnants of the ink they used to take her fingerprints.
She had met Samantha at her office and went through all of the details of the last few months in as short amount of time as was possible. Samantha had explained what would happen when they got to the police station, and so far Sarah’s experience had been nearly exactly as Samantha had predicted.
Sarah knew that while she’d had been busy with mug shots and fingerprints, Samantha was busy making calls on her behalf. Samantha had been pretty certain she could find a judge to set bail so that she could get out of there as quickly as was possible. Sarah knew that her father was working on the same thing, as she had called him on the way to the police station to let him know what was going on.
“Hi, Sarah,” Samantha announced as she entered the small room. She was in her mid-forties with long dark hair and eyes the color of cappuccino. Her body was relaxed, as if she found herself in a police interrogation room every day. It worked at helping Sarah feel a little less afraid.
“You’re doing great.” Somehow, she didn’t come off as condescending. “Like I said before, they are going to send in the detective in a few minutes to ask you some questions. We are going to have to talk to them at some point in time and I’m hoping that we can use this opportunity to try and figure out exactly what they’re thinking. If not, we wait for your bail to be set and we just leave. I did speak to your father and he is working on that, but it’s going to take a little time.”
“Okay,” Sarah agreed, feeling more relaxed in the presence of such confidence.
Samantha smiled, pulled open the door and called out to Detective Hunter. Moments later, a tall man with thick graying hair marched into the room. He lowered himself into the chair opposite Sarah’s and opened a thick file folder. Samantha sat next to Sarah and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Hi, Mrs. Taylor,” Detective Hunter greeted. His demeanor didn’t betray his suspicion. He seemed exactly the same as every other time Sarah had spoken with him since Chad’s death.
“Detective,” was all Sarah could get out. She knew her voice was shaky.
“Detective Hunter,” Samantha said in such a sweet voice, you could almost see the honey dripping from her mouth. “You know the drill, if I tell her not to answer, we move on.”
Without responding, he reached over to the video camera mounted on a tripod and hit a button. The red light reminded Sarah that this tape could be played at trial. She pulled away from Samantha and wiped her now sweating palms on her jeans.
“Do you mind if I record this?” He asked. “My handwriting’s awful and it seems I can’t ever read my own notes.”
“That’s fine,” Samantha agreed seeing right through his ruse. She had already told Sarah that a video recording would be standard procedure.
“Okay, Mrs. Taylor,” he muttered, as he picked up his pen and looked at the file. His face was a blank canvas, without any trace of emotion. “How long were you and Chad Taylor married?”
Sarah looked at Samantha who nodded. “I’ll stop you if I don’t want you to answer,” she explained again.
“It will…would have been eight years in June.”
“How would you characterize your relationship?”
Sarah uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, took a deep breath.
“Actually, Detective, I was considering filing for divorce when Chad...” her voice broke. “You know.”
Detective Hunter seemed surprised by her admission.
“You were filing for divorce? What did your husband think about that?”
“I hadn’t told him yet,” She looked over at Samantha again who only smiled. She and Samantha had already discussed all of this in her office. “I knew he was going to be upset and I was putting it off.”
“He didn’t want a divorce then?” He laid the pen down and templed his hands beneath his chin.
Sarah almost laughed. “No, detective, Chad didn’t want a divorce.” She paused while trying to figure out the best way to put it. “Having a wife was an integral part of Chad’s career plans. He was planning to enter politics and believed that a divorce would mar him in the eyes of his would-be constituents.”
“Then why were you planning to file?”
Sarah hesitated. She looked down at her hands folded in her lap. Her knuckles had turned white.
“We hadn’t been close in a long time, a very long time. We had barely spoken in several months. He had pretty much moved into the guest room a while ago and was working very long hours. We barely saw each other.” She considered holding back for only a moment before she added, “and I’m pretty certain that he was having an affair.”
“He was having an affair?” he looked at her in disbelief and sort of chuckled. “What made you believe that, Mrs. Taylor?”
“I don’t know, women’s intuition, I guess. It’s just something you know. I never had any proof if that is what you’re asking. And, before you ask, no, I have no idea who he could have been seeing.”
Detective Hunter smiled softly while he turned pages in the folder before him. “Well, we will definitely look into it, Mrs. Taylor,” he said, but his tone said he was humoring her. “Most of the time, it seems to be a scorned lover that is responsible,” he added pointedly.
When his eyes lifted to hers, they were like daggers. The knowingness of his eyes and the falseness of his smile sent a shiver up her spine.
“Had you met with a divorce attorney?”
“Not exactly,” she explained. “You see, Jack Layton has been my family’s attorney for years and I was going have him file the necessary paperwork for me. I talked to him about it a week or so before Chad’s death when I’d met with him regarding some other things for the company.”
“Ah, yes, he’s the attorney of record for your father’s company?”
She gave him her standard professional smile, unemotional. “Yes, but as I’m the President of McGuire now, I work with him most of the time these days.”
“Got it,” he smiled back, “Tell me, Mrs. Taylor, why wouldn’t you want an attorney who specializes in divorce to handle something so… important?”
“Mr. Layton is perfectly competent to handle a divorce for me, Detective. Further, he knows what all of my assets are and where they are located. Not that I expected that to come into play. I know that I said Chad wouldn’t be happy about the divorce, but I’m certain that once he had accepted the inevitable, he wouldn’t have contested it. There was nothing to fight about so I didn’t anticipate the need for a hard-core divorce lawyer.”
“I see. So to answer my last question, you hadn’t made an appointment with a divorce attorney?”
“I already told you I didn’t.”
“I was just clarifying,” he smiled serenely. “So, am I to understand that we simply have your word that you were planning to file for divorce?”
“Well, yes, but why would I lie about that?” Confusion clouded her eyes and wrinkled her brow. She looked again at Samantha who nodded. “Why would I tell you there were problems in my marriage if there weren’t?”
“I don’t think you would, Mrs. Taylor. And certainly there were problems in your marriage. There are just a few things that don’t make sense to me
.” He leaned back in his chair and began tapping his pen on the table.
“What don’t you understand?” While her voice was calm, her tone screamed of frustration.
“You say that Chad didn’t know you were planning to file for divorce and, more importantly, that he wouldn’t want a divorce.”
“That’s right.”
“You also said that you believed that Chad was having an affair, though you have no proof other than, what did you say?” Detective Hunter checked his notes. “Women’s intuition?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me this, Mrs. Taylor. Why did he go to the courthouse the day before his death and file his own petition for divorce?”
Sarah stared at the detective, her mouth ajar, her eyes wide. It took a moment to make her mouth move but even then only a whisper escaped. She looked over at Samantha who didn’t seemed fazed by the question.
“What?”
“Chad had apparently met with his attorney on the day before he was murdered. His divorce attorney,” he clarified. “He was petitioning for divorce from you. What were the grounds he cited?” He fumbled through his papers, finally pulling the one he wanted. “Oh yes, fraud,” he paused for effect and met her eyes, “and adultery.”
Sarah was reeling from the shock of his revelation and he gave her no time to recover. “So tell me, Mrs. Taylor. If you wanted a divorce and your husband didn’t, why would he file for divorce as the petitioner?”
“Chad filed for divorce?” She asked again, but he simply stared at her. “I had no idea.”
“So,” Detective Hunter continued. “Let me get this straight. You thought that Chad was having an affair so you were going to file for divorce. But then we learn that it was actually him who wanted the divorce because you had been having an affair. Oh and there are those pesky surveillance tapes of you and an old boyfriend frequenting a hotel in the same city where you live. With all of that, do you really expect me to believe your intuition, Mrs. Taylor?” He sat back in his chair with a look that said his mind about her was all made up. “It was a good story, though. Pretending you were the one who wanted the divorce when it was your husband that was leaving you. How much money would he have gotten in the divorce, Sarah? That is, after he proved you were cheating on him?”
“I think we’re done for today, Detective,” Samantha smiled. “If you have any further questions for Mrs. Taylor, feel free to call my office next week and we can discuss.” Detective Hunter looked up in surprise, but Samantha gave him a saccharin smile as she stood up and pulled out Sarah’s chair. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to go arrange bail for my client.”
****
Sarah’s leaned her head back and pressed herself deeper into the soft leather seat. Her neck and shoulders burned with tension.
“You okay?” Shane asked.
“I guess so,” Sarah told her brother. “I’m just glad I’m finally out of there.”
“I think dad called in a few favors to find a judge that quickly. Otherwise, I think you might have been in there until Monday.”
“Great,” she sighed. “Now the press can crucify me further for special treatment.”
“You aren’t actually reading the papers are you, Sarah?” His voice filled with concern.
“Of course not,” she assured him. “But I’m sure everyone we know is reading them. I wonder what Lindsey’s friends are going to be saying to her.”
“She’s only seven years old, Sarah. I doubt her friends are up on current events.”
Sarah turned toward her brother, brow wrinkled in concern. “Maybe not, but they hear their parents talking. I just don’t know what to do for her.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Sarah knew from his tone he’d been waiting for the right moment to say what was on his mind. “I know you wanted to get back home and get Lindsey back to her friends and all, but with this new, er, development, maybe you guys should come back to Farmington. Lindsey can stay with Kristen and me until this is all over.”
She laughed in spite of her situation. “Yeah, Shane, I’m sure the people in Farmington are less focused on my arrest then those in St. Louis. Farmington hasn’t had a scandal like this in years.”
“You might be right,” he conceded. “Although right now they seem to be concentrating more on Brett than you.”
As they neared her parents’ driveway, she saw the, now familiar, sight of news vans lining the once quiet road. Suddenly, she was infinitely grateful for Shane’s darkly tinted windows.
They crept past the swarm of reporters who must’ve recognized Shane’s car by the way they started filing into the street. The gate closed behind them and Sarah finally felt safer.
“I’ll take you to get your car later,” Shane offered as they left the vehicle.
“Thanks,” she said sincerely as followed Shane into the kitchen. Lindsey and Cathleen were both covered with flour.
“Hi kids,” Cathleen greeted cheerfully, though her face frowned in worry. “Everything okay at the office? Lindsey and I were just talking about how unusual it is for you both to go in on a Sunday.”
Sarah instantly understood and felt some of the tension leave her body. Lindsey didn’t know she’s been in jail for the past 18 hours.
“Oh,” Sarah plastered a smile on her face and kissed her daughter’s forehead. “Crisis averted for now. Thanks, mom.”
“No problem, honey, we’ve had a great time. Haven’t we, Linds?”
“We’re making cookies!” Lindsey exclaimed.
“I see that,” Sarah replied, taking comfort in her daughter’s excitement. “I want the next one out of the oven.”
“Uncle Shane, do you want one too?”
“I’d love one, sweetie, but I have to get home to your Aunt Kristen and Matty,” he explained before turning his attention to Sarah. “Call me if you need anything.”
“I will,” Sarah promised. “Thanks again.”
“Lindsey,” Cathleen said as Sarah poured some coffee and sat at the table. “Why don’t you run upstairs and get that beautiful painting you made earlier? Your mom will love it.”
“Okay,” Lindsey agreed and jumped off the stool.
“Don’t forget to wash your hands,” Cathleen added, but Lindsey was already halfway up the stairs.
“Sarah,” Cathleen turned toward her daughter, concern furrowing her brow. “Are you okay?”
“Never better,” Sarah said sarcastically, pouring herself a mug of coffee. “Seriously, I’m just worried about Lindsey. With all the press…”
“About that,” Cathleen interrupted. “Your father and I were talking and we think now would be the perfect time to take Lindsey and Matty to Florida.”
“What?” Sarah was stunned by suggestion.
“Well, we have the condo down there and it will get them out of town, away from all these reporters and rumors. What better escape is there than a few days at Disney World?”
“I don’t know, mom,” Sarah sighed. She couldn’t think straight.
“Well, then listen to you mother,” Cathleen lectured. “You need time to concentrate on figuring out what the hell is going on and you need to know that your daughter is safe while you’re doing it. This will accomplish both of those things. Sarah, look at me.” Sarah met her mother’s concerned face. “I mean it. I’d force you to go if I could, but I know I wouldn’t be able to convince you even if the judge allowed you to leave town. You’re as stubborn as your father. But, I can get my grandchildren out of this situation and safely out of town.”
“Okay, mom,” Sarah relented, seeing the logic in her mother’s words. “I’ll go get Lindsey packed.”
“Packed for what?” Lindsey demanded as she walked back into the kitchen.
“We’re going to Disney World!” Cathleen exclaimed and Lindsey squealed with delight.
****
The next morning, Sarah dropped them all off at the airport and then drove to her house. She wanted to take some time to go through Chad’s o
ffice, hoping for something that would give her insight into his surprise divorce petition. Instead, almost everything she found was firm-related so she packed up the papers and made the decision to deliver them personally. Maybe his assistant could give her a little insight into what was going on with him.
Feeling fatigue set in and realizing it was only 4:00, she went to the kitchen to brew some coffee. While the pot puffed and dripped, Sarah’s attention returned to the stack of mail that was still sitting on the counter. A letter from Lindsey’s pediatrician caught her eye and she ripped it open. She was trying to figure out the charges when the doorbell rang.
With the stealth of a spy, Sarah made as little movement as possible as she peeked through the shades. Seeing a familiar face on the porch, she pulled open the door.
“Hey,” Amber said in greeting as she stepped over the threshold. Sarah closed and locked the door behind her.
“I tried to call to say I was coming by, but there was no answer,” Amber explained. “I wasn’t sure you were home.”
“Oh, sorry,” Sarah explained. “I never turned the ringers back on when I got home, the reporters are relentless.”
“I tried your cell, too.”
“On the charger upstairs. It went dead while I was in jail,” she answered grimly.
Amber moved in for a hug. “How are you holding up?”
“I guess I’m okay,” Sarah turned toward the kitchen. “I was just making coffee. You want some?”
“Coffee, huh? No wine?”
Sarah gave a small laugh. “Not right now, but the day’s not over yet.”
She poured two mugs of coffee as Amber sat down at the breakfast table.
“I hear you hired Samantha Grayson,” Amber offered.
“Yeah, she was on the list Jack sent.”
“She’s good. You like her?”
Killer Desires Page 15