Deadly Secrets

by Jude Pittman

  “No. Guangzhou. Canton. You know Hong Kong? Near there.”

  “That must be quite a change for you. Canton to Texas.”

  She lifted her eyes, made contact and dropped her head. “Yes.”

  “How did you happen to hook up with Krystal? She’s from Houston, isn’t she?”

  “Krissie rent this apartment when she first come here to school. I am exchange student. Krissie have ad in school paper. We like each other. Mr. Boscon, I ask something?”

  “Jack.”

  “Jack.” She nodded. “I worry for Krissie. You bring bad news, yes?”

  Jack frowned. “Why do you ask?”

  She fidgeted, her fingers twisting a paper napkin. “Krissie like sister. She upset about mother. Meeting go very bad.”

  So, she did go out to the flea market. Jack’s heart sank at hearing the confirmation that the mysterious woman had indeed been Krystal. “Did anything happen out there?” he asked.

  Penny tensed and her face paled. She shrunk back in her chair and tightened her lips.

  Jack pressed on. “Can you tell me exactly what time Krystal got home last night?”

  Penny’s fingers shredded the napkin and she glanced at the doorway. “Shower stop. Krissie here soon.”

  “It’s important, Penny. I need to make sure she was home before midnight.”

  Relief flooded Penny’s face. She bobbed her head. “Krissie home early. Clock say only seven.”

  “Did she stay in all night or did she maybe go out again?”

  “No. She take pills for sleep. Go to bed.”

  Jack frowned. “You’re sure?”

  “Very small apartment.” Penny waved her arm in a circle. “Krissie no leave. Sleep all night.”

  “Okay. I hate to break it to you like this but Krystal’s mother was murdered last night.”

  Penny clapped her hand to her mouth.

  “Apparently it happened sometime between midnight and two a.m., so you’re going to be an important witness for Krystal.”

  “Witness! Witness? Explain.”

  “The police will want you to tell them what you’ve just told me.”

  Shaking her head back and forth, she clutched her arms across her breasts. “Police? No police. I no talk police.”

  “Don’t be scared.” Jack smiled to reassure her. “It’s different here. Talking to the police is nothing. They’ll ask you a lot of questions but as long as you tell them the truth, they’ll treat you just fine.”

  Her voice rose. “No. Must be other way.”

  “Tell me about yesterday afternoon?” Jack changed the subject.

  “I wait. Krissie tell you.” Penny kept her head down but Jack spotted tears through her fingers.

  “If Krystal was as upset as you say, she might not remember.” Jack’s voice was gentle, encouraging. “If I know the whole story, I’ll be able to help when the police question you.”

  Penny lifted her head and almost met his eyes. “Krissie go to Houston. Come home. Say she hire detective to find mother.” Penny paused and glanced at the doorway.

  Jack took a sip of coffee, waited a moment then nodded encouragement. Finally, Penny continued. “Krissie not talk much. She have fight with uncle. She ask him tell her about mother and father. He no tell. Krissie angry.”

  “Did Krystal tell her uncle she was going to hire someone to find her mother?”

  “Not say.” Penny shrugged.

  “Okay, that’s fine.” Jack said. “Now, what about yesterday afternoon. Did Krystal say how she planned to approach her mother?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know what caused the ruckus?”

  A puzzled expression crossed her face and she tilted her head. “Ruckus? I not know this.”

  “Sorry. I mean, what happened that made the security guard think Krystal was attacking her mother?”

  “Man come with whiskey. Mother drink. Krissie no like that. She try grab bottle, trip and fall into mother.”

  “Did Krissie strike her?”

  “Not hit. Fall over chair. Guard person come. Krissie run away.”

  Jack shook his head. “I was afraid something might happen out there. Anna wasn’t exactly Harriet Nelson.”

  Penny’s face clouded again and Jack corrected himself. “Sorry, that was an inside joke about an old television shows I’m sure you’ve never seen.”

  “Very bad thing. Krissie not like to talk.”

  “I’ll go easy on her. She’ll have to be told about her mother’s death though and she’ll need to explain to the police.”

  “I go get Krissie now? You like music?”

  Jack nodded and gave her a friendly smile. She reached across the table and turned on the radio. Another Asian custom—entertain your guests.

  “Thanks,” he said. “You go get Krystal. I’ll be fine.”

  She padded out of the room. Jack leaned back and listened to a country ballad. Sunlight streamed in the window and whoops of laugher drifted up from the swimming pool. After Penny’d been gone about five minutes, Jack started to get restless. He was up, pacing the floor, when a news bulletin caught his attention.

  “Early this morning the body of a white, middle-aged woman was found by a security guard at the Indian Creek flea market. The woman, whose name is being withheld pending notification of next of kin, had been strangled. The coroner estimates time of death between eleven-thirty p.m. and one-thirty a.m.

  “Police are seeking a young woman who was involved in a struggle with the deceased earlier in the day. This woman is in her early twenties, attractive, with light blond hair and a slim figure. She is approximately five feet five or six and was wearing dark wool slacks and a red-and-blue print sweater. Police are asking anyone with information to contact the Tarrant County Sheriff’s Department.”

  Jack heard a gasp and jerked his head around. Krystal stood in the doorway. She had her hair pulled back and tied with a scarf and her slim body was wrapped in an oversize white robe. All the blood had drained from her face leaving it the color of chalk. Just as she slumped, Penny—who barely reached five feet—grabbed her from behind.

  “I’ll get her,” Jack said, from behind Penny.

  Penny nodded and allowed Jack to lift Krystal into his arms.

  “This way,” she said and led him into a small living room.

  Settling Krystal onto the couch, Jack stood back and Penny, dropping to her knees, smoothed Krystal’s hair and crooned reassurances.

  The lyrics of a Texas line dance pulsed from the radio. Jack walked back to the kitchen and shut it off. Silence gripped the room. Tears spilled down Krystal’s cheeks and Penny fetched a washcloth to wipe her friend’s eyes.

  “I never even got to ask my mother why Daddy killed himself,” Krystal sobbed.

  “It’s okay, Krissie,” Penny soothed.

  Krystal lay silent for several moments, then opened her eyes and focused her gaze on Jack.

  “Is this why you’re here?” she asked in a barely audible voice.

  Jack bent down beside the couch and took her hand. “It was in the morning paper. I’m afraid I’m going to have to talk to the police but I wanted to give you some time to prepare yourself for their questions.”

  “Oh, no!” Her eyes sprang open. “I can’t see the police. I’ve got to talk to Uncle Andrew first. He doesn’t even know I hired you to find my mother. I’ve got to go to Houston. I can’t tell him on the telephone. I just can’t.”

  Jack frowned and shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t wait that long. I could lose my license for withholding information in a murder case.”

  Krystal clutched his hand, her eyes wide and pleading. “Couldn’t you wait a couple of hours? Please. Just give me time to catch a plane to Houston and tell my uncle in person.”

  Her voice was pathetic. Damn! He always went soft when a pretty young thing begged for help. “I’m taking a big chance here but I guess I can give you that much. I have some business over in Arlington that’ll take me ’til about fo
ur. I’ll head over there now and call in at the cop shop after I’m done.”

  “Thank you,” she smiled through her tears.

  “I call. Get seat on plane.” Penny said. Then she lifted her eyes to Jack and gave him a warm, grateful smile.

  Jack let himself out of the apartment and walked back to his pickup.

  Leaning against his truck, Jack drew a deep breath. It had seemed like a good idea back when Krystal hired him to confirm things with her Uncle Andrew and Andrew had been grateful for Jack’s confidence. He’d felt a bit guilty at the time—technically it was a violation of Krystal’s confidence. But given the circumstances, he’d eased his own conscience by reassuring himself that it was in Krystal’s best interests to keep her uncle informed. Then too, the money Andrew paid him for duplicate copies of his reports hadn’t hurt any.

  What the hell! It was a tough business and a man had to look out for himself if he wanted to stay independent. Jack gave himself a mental shake and climbed into his truck.

  “I’ll give her a break and then wash my hands of it,” he muttered as he turned the key and started the truck.

  By the time he’d pulled out onto Camp Bowie, his mind was fixed on his client in Arlington and Krystal’s problems were left behind.

  Chapter Five

  “I’m going to be just fine.” Krystal leaned across the seat and gave Penny a hug.

  Unlocking the car door and pulling the handle, she turned back to Penny and gave her a last warning admonition. “Now I don’t want you to worry anymore. I’m going to talk to Uncle Andrew and he’ll take care of everything.”

  “You will telephone?” Penny’s voice trembled.

  “I’ll call as soon as I talk to Uncle Andrew. That’s a promise.”

  Krystal hopped out of the car, crossed the narrow strip of pavement into the terminal and stepped through the automatic doors.

  At the Southwest Airlines booth, she stepped up to the counter and smiled at the ticket agent.

  “May I help you?” His voice was crisp and professional but his eyes brightened at the sight of the stunning blonde holding out her American Express card and his smile held real warmth.

  “I have a reservation for the noon flight to Houston.” Krystal returned his smile with an automatic twist of her lips.

  The formalities over, she soon boarded the plane and sighed with relief to find it almost empty. She couldn’t have handled a talkative seat companion. What she needed right now was some quiet time to get her thoughts in order.

  The plane rolled onto the runway and after giving the standard spiel, a pert navy-clad redhead walked down the aisle checking seatbelts. The jets roared and in seconds they were airborne. Krystal leaned back in the seat and turned her face to the window. Memory rolled in with the passing clouds and took her back.

  She was almost seven. Next Saturday was her birthday. Mommy had promised her a big party with clowns. She’d gone to sleep dreaming about the clowns. Then she’d head a loud bang. “Mommy!” She’d cried out but Mommy hadn’t come. Frightened, Krystal had buried her head under the covers and started to cry.

  “Would you care for a soft drink?” A friendly voice brought Krystal back from the past. “Thank you, no.” She shook her head and the flight attendant crossed to the next seat across the aisle.

  Turning back to the window, Krystal forced her thoughts away from the past. She needed to decide how to handle Uncle Andrew. The last time she’d been home, they’d had a fight over her mother.

  “I’m going to be twenty-five in a couple of months,” Krystal had told him. “Don’t you think it’s time somebody told me the truth about my mother?”

  “She wasn’t a fit woman to raise a child,” Andrew had snapped at Krystal and given her an angry look.

  Refusing to be intimidated, she’d pressed on. “Can’t you at least tell me why my mother left?”

  “No, as a matter of fact, I can’t. I have no idea what was in her mind. She had no interest in you when you were a child and there’s no reason to think that’s changed. You’ll only rake open old sores if you try to find her.” That had been his final word. He’d given Krystal a withering glance and turned back to his work.

  Krystal had known it was hopeless but she’d tried one more question. “Do you know where she went when she left Houston?”

  Andrew’s voice had been frigid. “I have no idea where she went and furthermore, I don’t care. Nor do I want to carry this discussion any further.”

  Krystal had slammed out of the study and spent the rest of the night in her bedroom. She’d had her own agenda though and Saturday morning, as soon as they’d both left—Stella for the beauty parlor and Uncle Andrew for golf—she’d gone to the attic. There, she’d spent hours digging through old trunks and unpacking stacks of photo albums. She’d made up her mind to hire a detective and she figured there had to be a picture of her mother somewhere. There wasn’t.

  Finally, tired and sweaty, she’d pushed the last trunk back into place and started to leave. On the way out, she’d spotted a small leather suitcase tucked away in an alcove.

  It had taken her several minutes of poking and prying but she’d jimmied the lock and opened the case. More linen. Disgusted, she’d lifted a handful. A faded pink jewelry folder lay on a stack of doilies. She’d picked it up and it had crinkled in her hands. Untying the satin ribbon, she’d pulled out a long white envelope. The writing, scrawled in her grandmother’s spidery hand, had been impossible to read without her glasses. She’d tucked the envelope into her pocket, closed the suitcase and stacked it back in the alcove.

  “The captain has turned on the seatbelt sign.” The flight attendant’s voice brought Krystal back to the present and the descent into Houston.

  After she deplaned and rushed through the terminal, she strode toward the long line of taxis waiting in front of the airport. She jumped into the first in line and gave the driver her uncle’s address in River Oaks. Then she settled back in the seat and tried to concentrate on her upcoming talk with Uncle Andrew. It was hopeless. Her mind kept darting between the past and the present. When the cab swung into the drive, she still hadn’t figured out what to say.

  The cab dropped her off at the front entrance and before approaching the door, Krystal peeked through the garage window. The Jaguar was gone—Stella was off somewhere—but the BMW was there. That was a relief. Uncle Andrew would probably be up in his study. Letting herself in, she climbed the stairs to the second floor, walked noiselessly down the hall to the big corner room and knocked on the door.

  “What is it?” Andrew’s voice grumbled from within.

  Krystal turned the knob and stepped inside the room. Uncle Andrew, a small, neat man with dark, gray-streaked hair, lifted his head and fixed sharp, brown eyes on Krystal’s face.

  “I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend,” he said.

  “I wasn’t. Something’s happened and I need to talk to you.”

  “You’d better sit down.” He motioned to a chair in front of his desk. “What’s happened?”

  Krystal sat and met his unblinking gaze. He never relaxed. His dress, like his manner, remained rigid and proper. Taking a deep breath, she let the words rush out. “I hired a detective agency to find my mother.”

  Andrew’s face tightened. “I thought we went all through this business of Anna the last time you were here.”

  Krystal’s eyes flashed. “What you mean is that I begged you to tell me about my mother and father and you refused. What did you expect me to do?”

  He shook his head. His eyelids drooped, hiding his expression. When he spoke, his voice was low. “Did you get your answers?”

  She hesitated then shook her head.

  “I’m sorry.” A sigh escaped his lips. “I was only trying to spare you.”

  Krystal gripped her lip with her teeth. She wanted to scream at him, berate him for his coldness. He sat firm in his chair, his expression hard and unyielding. Her courage wavered, she dropped her eyes and cover
ed her face with her hands.

  “You know your Aunt Stella and I have your best interests at heart?”

  Krystal shook her head. “Maybe you care but don’t try and tell me Stella gives a damn, because I won’t believe it.”

  “Okay.” He ignored the dig at Stella. “Let’s not quarrel. Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Andrew leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin.

  “I went to see my mother and if you must know, I made a complete fool of myself.”

  Andrew frowned. “Go on.”

  “I fell into her and knocked her out of her chair. It was nothing, really but it looked bad. A security guard came and pulled me off her.”

  “Then you haven’t talked to Anna yet?”

  Krystal shook her head. “No and now I’ll never get another chance because somebody went to the flea market last night and killed her.”

  “What?” Andrew jerked forward.

  “She’s dead. The detective told me about it this morning. They found her body out at the flea market and they’re looking for me.”

  “Why would they be looking for you?” He kept his eyes on her face.

  “Because somebody told them I attacked her.” Krystal’s voice trembled and she fought back tears. “I wasn’t there last night, if that’s what you’re wondering. I didn’t want her dead. I wanted her alive so I could talk to her. Now the police are looking for me and it’s all your fault. If you’d answered my questions, I wouldn’t have had to hire a detective. I know you don’t want any more scandal in the family but what am I supposed to do now?”

  “Please, Krystal.” His voice was almost gentle. “I admit, I was wrong. I didn’t realize you were so desperate that you’d go to a detective. If it’s so important to you we can talk about it later. Right now we need to decide what to do. You say you haven’t talked to the police yet?”

  “No. As soon as I heard about it, I had Penny drive me to the airport.”

  “Good. I’ll get Tom Masters and have him call Fort Worth. This business is best handled by a lawyer. Tom can explain your connection with Anna and try to put some pressure on the police to keep your name out of the papers. Now where were you last night?”