Woman with a Gun

by Phillip Margolin

  “I understand that you crashed the Cahills’ wedding reception and threatened him.”

  “That is one hundred percent correct. Cahill wouldn’t take my calls or return them. Every time I went to his office he’d have his secretary say he wasn’t in. But I figured he’d be at his own wedding.”

  “You admit you threatened Mr. Cahill?”

  “Sure. There were plenty of witnesses so I can’t deny it. Not that I would. But I didn’t threaten to kill him. I threatened to sue his ass for every penny he owned. My lawyers are filing the papers this week. If his partner doesn’t own up to what that crook was doing I’ll drag Mercer through the courts—then I’ll get the Feds after him.”

  “How did Mr. Cahill swindle you?” Oscar asked.

  “He had me invest in these IPOs he said were sure things but he never bought the stocks. A couple of them did okay so I figured I’d made a killing and I wanted to cash out. He kept stalling. That’s when I figured out he was counting on the stocks to tank and had pocketed my money. When they didn’t, he was caught in a bind and had to shuffle money from the investors whose companies went downhill to the ones like me who made a profit; only too many of the companies were successful.”

  “Do you know any of the other investors?”

  “Nah. Most of them were in L.A. and I didn’t hang with that crowd.”

  “Where did you go after you were tossed from the party?”

  Tuttle laughed. “Don’t you mean, did I lurk around Palisades Heights and pounce on old Ray when he got home?” He laughed again. “You’re barking up the wrong tree if you think I killed Ray. I wanted him alive so he could pay me my money. But in case you think I’m lying, you can talk to my chauffeur or the people at the airfield where my company jet was parked. That’s where I went from the party—straight to the airfield, then home.”

  “Was Kevin Mercer’s jet at the same airfield?”

  “If he flew in on a private jet it would be.”

  “Did you see him at the airfield?”

  “No, but I wasn’t looking for him. I checked in and went straight to my ride. He could have been there without me seeing him.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Jack Booth was having a smoke on the balcony of his motel room when Teddy Winston called to tell him that Megan Cahill had remembered something about the night her husband was killed and he would pick Jack up in ten minutes.

  Archie Denning pulled into the driveway of the Cahills’ house seconds after Winston parked. Henry Baker had been waiting for them, and he opened the front door as soon as he heard Winston’s car.

  “Thanks for coming to the house,” Henry said. “Mrs. Cahill is too upset to go to your office.”

  “No problem,” the DA answered.

  Baker led the three men down to the living room. Megan was sitting on an armchair dressed in a floor-length, dark blue caftan embroidered with gold thread.

  “The doctor just left,” Baker said as they descended the stairs. “He prescribed some sedatives but she’s going to wait to take them until after you’ve talked to her.”

  Jack sat facing Megan. He leaned forward, his hands folded and his forearms resting on his thighs.

  “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice heavy with concern.

  “It was Parnell,” she answered in a monotone.

  “Your ex-husband, Parnell Crouse?”

  Behind Jack, Denning and Winston looked at each other for a moment before turning back to Megan Cahill.

  “He . . . he was wearing a ski mask and gloves and he tried to disguise his voice but he’s no actor. I know it was him.”

  “You’re certain?” Jack asked.

  When Megan answered she sounded angry. “Have you ever seen Parnell in person?”

  “No.”

  “His body is freakish. Even now, after being out of the league for a few years, he’s still built like one of those Greek statues. It’s the steroids. He kept thinking he’d get back with a team, so he pumped iron obsessively and he used that shit like it was candy. That’s why our marriage fell apart.”

  She paused. Before she looked down, Jack saw her eyes tear.

  “I loved him,” she whispered, “but he’d fly into these rages and beat me. I wouldn’t stand for that. It was the ’roids. They made him crazy.”

  She paused again. Then she began to sob. “Did you know I was pregnant? It was right before he was drafted. He said he was happy about the baby. He proposed and we were married. I always hoped we would be. We’d been going together since high school. Everything was so great. Parnell had always dreamed about the NFL and his dream was going to come true. And we were going to be a family. Then there was trouble in training camp. I can’t remember what happened, but he took it out on me and . . .” She gulped down some tears.

  “He hit me in the stomach,” she said when she could talk, “and I miscarried. I should have left him then. I was so stupid.”

  While they waited for Megan to regain her composure, Jack remembered the very different version of Megan’s pregnancy that Lucius Jackson had told Oscar Llewellyn.

  “What happened the night Mr. Cahill died?” Jack asked.

  “We came home and Parnell was waiting for us. He must have been hiding in the bushes near the front door. Ray drove into the garage. As soon as we got out of the car Parnell ran in and hit Ray with the butt of a gun. Then he put the gun to Ray’s temple and told me to open the door to the house and disable the alarm. After that he marched us into the den where the collection is. He was behind me. That must be when he hit me.”

  “Can you remember what happened when you came to? Was anyone still in the den?”

  “I don’t know. The next thing I remember is standing on the beach.”

  “How did you get the gun?”

  “I don’t remember. The gun must have been in the den but I’m just guessing.”

  “How certain are you that the man who hit you was your ex-husband? Would you swear under oath at a trial?” Teddy Winston asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Well, this certainly helps, Mrs. Cahill,” Archie Denning said. “I’ll put out an APB for Crouse.”

  “My investigator went to his apartment and a neighbor told him that he hasn’t been there for some time,” Jack said.

  “Which makes sense if he was in Palisades Heights pulling this job,” Winston said.

  Jack looked at the DA and Denning. “Do either of you want to ask any more questions?”

  They shook their heads.

  “I did have something else I wanted to ask you,” Jack said. “It’s about Mr. Crouse.”

  “Yes?”

  “I hate to ask about this but I’d like to get it cleared up.”

  “What is this?” Henry Baker asked.

  “My understanding is that Mr. Crouse was almost broke after the divorce because you drained his bank accounts. Is there any truth to that?”

  “Jesus, Jack,” Baker exploded. “Can’t you see how upset Mrs. Cahill is? What are you suggesting?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just following up on information my investigator uncovered.”

  “Who’s spreading these rumors?” Baker demanded.

  “I’m afraid I can’t answer that.”

  “Then I’m afraid I’ll have to instruct my client not to answer.”

  “No, Henry,” Megan said. “I know where this bullshit comes from. Lucius Jackson, right? That pig of a lawyer Parnell hired.”

  “Our sources are confidential, Mrs. Cahill,” Jack said.

  Megan shook her head. “He’s a real piece of work.”

  “You don’t have to say anything else,” Baker cautioned his client.

  “But I want to. If you’re looking for someone who cleaned out Parnell you should talk to Jackson. That bastard took most of what Parnell had left. And yes, I emptied out our accounts. But I did it for us. He was spending our money as fast as it came in, on cars and parties. I tried to explain that the money might not last forever a
nd we had to save. But he just kept spending on the drugs and steroids and I’m sure he was fucking one or more women on the side, so I protected myself by setting up accounts he couldn’t touch and shifting the money as fast as it came in. It was for his own good.”

  “Why didn’t you split it with him when you divorced?”

  “After he killed our baby I figured I’d earned it,” she said defiantly.

  “I think this is enough questioning,” Winston said.

  Jack looked like he wanted to follow up, but he decided that he’d gotten enough.

  “We’ll let you get some rest, Mrs. Cahill,” the DA continued.

  Henry Baker turned to Denning. “Can you assign a man to watch this house in case Crouse decides to come back?”

  “I’ll get right on it.”

  Baker didn’t look happy when he walked the three men to the front door. When they were far enough from Megan so she couldn’t hear them, Baker turned on Jack.

  “Why did you go after Mrs. Cahill like that? Can’t you see how fragile she is?”

  “This is a murder investigation, Mr. Baker. Your client was holding the murder weapon and she had a million motives to kill her husband. At this point, everyone is a suspect and I wouldn’t be doing my duty if I didn’t ask the type of questions I did.”

  “Well, this may be the last time you get to ask any questions of my client,” Baker said before he stomped off.

  “That was a mistake,” Winston said.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Jack said as they walked to Winston’s car. “Are you discounting the possibility that she killed Cahill?”

  “I don’t know. She doesn’t seem to be acting,” the DA replied. “What about you, Archie?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s awfully convenient that her ex just happens to be the killer.”

  “So you think she’s faking?” Winston asked.

  Denning shrugged. “If we talk to Crouse and he has a solid alibi for the time of the killing, it’s going to look bad for her. I’m going to wait and see what happens.”

  “My investigator talked to Cahill’s partner, Kevin Mercer, and Lucius Jackson, Crouse’s divorce attorney,” Jack said. “Neither one had anything nice to say about Mrs. Cahill. They both thought she was marrying Cahill for his money.

  “Something else. One reason Crouse had to quit playing football was because he suffered a number of concussions. That means that Megan Cahill would know how a person who has suffered a concussion would act. Crouse’s divorce attorney told my investigator that Mrs. Cahill has a genius IQ. Someone with a genius IQ could probably figure out how to fake the symptoms of a concussion if they wanted to.”

  “That’s a stretch,” Winston said.

  “You asked for my opinion. Like I told Henry Baker, shortly after he was killed, Megan Cahill was holding the gun that was used to murder Raymond Cahill. She had several million reasons to off her spouse. And now she’s blaming for the crime a person who she claims used to beat her up.”

  Jack shrugged. “Call me crazy but Mrs. Cahill is at the top of my list of suspects.”

  “Archie?” Winston asked.

  “I’m not sure. Finding Parnell Crouse is my number one priority. When we find him we may be able to clear this case.”

  Jack turned to Winston. “I can’t think of anything more I can do right now, so I’m going to drive back to Salem tomorrow. If you get to the point where you think there’s enough for an indictment, or if you just want to talk, give me a call. And, both of you, please keep me in the loop.”

  Winston talked about the case while he drove Jack back to his motel, but Jack was only half listening. Mostly, he was thinking about Kathy Moran. From the first moment he’d seen her in the Multnomah County district attorney’s office, he had been drawn to her. He was certain that he could think up an excuse to stay in Palisades Heights so he could continue to see her, but for once, he was thinking with his brain and not his penis. Any relationship that developed now could seriously impact the Cahill case, so he was going to drive back to Salem. After the case was over, there would be plenty of time to see if anything could develop between them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The call came at three in the morning. It was George Melendez on the phone, so Jack knew something bad had happened.

  “I’m at Kathy Moran’s house,” the police chief said.

  “She’s not . . . ?” Jack started.

  “No, it’s the other way around. Kilbride broke in and she shot him.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “She’s shaken up but she isn’t hurt.”

  “And Kilbride?”

  “He’s dead. She asked me to call you.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  Jack’s chest swelled. He felt as high as if he’d taken a drug. He knew it wasn’t right to rejoice over the death of another human being but he couldn’t help himself. When the police chief told him that Kathy was okay and Kilbride was dead he’d felt giddy with relief.

  If Jack hadn’t been there before, he still would have been able to pick out Kathy’s house as soon as he turned into her block. Several police cars and an ambulance were parked in front, and every light in the house had been turned on. Even though it was the middle of the night a crowd had formed on the sidewalk. Jack parked down the block, then worked his way past the rubberneckers and the deputy who was trying to keep them out of the way of the lab techs collecting evidence around the perimeter of the cottage.

  Jack flashed his ID at the cop who was guarding the door and asked for Melendez. He was directed to the kitchen in the back of the house, but he ran into Teddy Winston before he got there. Winston was standing at the spot where a hall led from the living room to Kathy’s bedroom. There was a body sprawled on the floor and a lot of blood.

  “Hell of a thing,” Winston said to Jack.

  Jack paused to look at Gary Kilbride. He was on his back, eyes wide, mouth open. Blood spread through the pattern on his aloha shirt.

  “Is Kathy okay?”

  “George is with her in the kitchen.”

  Kathy was sitting at a Formica-topped table, cradling a cup of tea. She was wrapped in a blanket even though it wasn’t that cold and she was staring at the tabletop. George Melendez was sitting opposite Kathy and a female officer was sitting next to her. Jack could see Kathy’s lips move but she was speaking so softly that he had no idea what she was saying.

  The back door that opened into the kitchen was ajar, and two techs were kneeling next to it, carefully collecting shards of glass, while another forensic expert photographed their every move.

  “Jack,” Melendez said as he beckoned the lawyer over to the table.

  Kathy raised her head. She looked exhausted. Her hair was uncombed, her eyes were bloodshot, and her complexion was ashen.

  “Are you okay?” Jack asked.

  She nodded, but it looked like the motion had taken an effort to make.

  “Kathy was just going to tell us what happened,” the police chief said. “I asked her to wait until you got here.”

  Melendez turned to Kathy. “Do you feel up to it?”

  “Let’s get this over with,” she said.

  “Okay. Go ahead, and take your time. If you want to stop, just tell us.”

  Kathy kept her eyes on the tabletop as she spoke. “I went to sleep after my shift but I haven’t been sleeping well since you told me Gary was here.”

  She nodded toward the kitchen door. “He broke in through there. That’s what woke me up, the glass breaking. I came out of my bedroom with the gun you gave me. He was in the living room. I shot him as soon as I saw him.”

  “Did Kilbride say anything?” Melendez asked. “Did he threaten you?”

  Kathy stared at Melendez hard enough to make him break eye contact. She looked furious.

  “He broke into my house, George. I didn’t wait for him to threaten me. The second I saw him, I emptied my gun.”

  “Hey, you did the right thing. I’m just asking to get a c
lear picture of what happened. So did he say anything?”

  “I don’t know. He may have. He was in the living room and I just kept shooting.”

  “Okay. I think this is enough for now, unless you have some questions, Jack.”

  Jack shook his head.

  “We’ll get a statement from you tomorrow after you’ve gotten some sleep. Is there someplace you can stay tonight? You won’t get any rest here. There’ll be cops, guys from the crime lab here all evening.”

  “I can call Ellen Devereaux or Grady.”

  “Do you want me to call for you?” Melendez asked.

  Kathy nodded. Melendez got the numbers and walked to a corner of the kitchen. Jack took his place at the table. He covered her hand.

  “You did the right thing, Kathy. We both know what would have happened to you if you hadn’t stopped him. Kilbride was a monster. Everyone is better off without him.”

  Kathy didn’t answer.

  Melendez came back to the table. “Ellen Devereaux says you can stay with her. Get dressed and I’ll have someone drive you over.”

  Kathy stood up. She looked shaky.

  “I’m going to Kilbride’s motel,” Melendez told Jack. “Do you want to come with me?”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Jack said.

  The policewoman walked Kathy out of the room. Jack waited until Kathy was out of earshot.

  “Was he armed?” Jack asked.

  “He had a knife.”

  “This looks like a classic case of self-defense,” Jack said.

  “That’s how I see it.”

  Jack nodded toward the living room where Teddy Winston was talking to a police officer.

  “What about Winston?”

  “He’ll be happy to write this one off, and he should be. The world’s better off without that piece of shit.”

  “Amen,” Jack said.

  The Sea View Motel was a squat, one-story affair several blocks from the ocean. None of its rooms had a view of the sea. Booth and Melendez parked next to the office. Two lab techs had followed in a van and they pulled in beside the chief’s car and waited while Booth and Melendez went into the office.