by Vella Day
“No.”
Of course not. Lara needed to stretch her legs as well as find something to eat. She selected a pack of donuts from the machine and poured two cups of coffee. While the brew didn’t smell enticing, Trevor would need the energy boost. She wove her way around the desks and set the cup on his desk.
“Thanks.” He didn’t look up. Fine.
While she sipped the unappetizing brew, she leafed through the Sanchez report again. Every few minutes, Trevor would glance at Ethan’s empty desk, the lines around his eyes and mouth tightening.
Officer Mortimer strode up to Trevor’s desk. “Your brother is with Mr. Laxman in room three. They’re waiting for you.”
Trevor jerked. “Brother?”
“Harry.” His cheeks colored to a shiny red. “Sorry.”
Trevor stood and turned toward her. “You want to watch?”
“Yes. May I talk with him?”
“Not yet.”
Which meant at some point. Good enough for now. While his shoulders remained stiff, Trevor’s stride had more pep.
They needed answers.
Trevor escorted her to a two-way window that peered into a cramped room containing a small table and two chairs. Bernie sat alone, pit stains under his arms, chewing his left thumbnail. In a way, she felt sorry for him, unless he really had harmed Ethan, Julie Bowman, and George Sanchez. How could she have been totally unaware of Bernie’s evil nature? Maybe Trevor was right. Killers didn’t always come in obvious packages, stamped with red letters than said, murderer on their forehead.
Trevor touched her shoulder and nodded toward the room. “I won’t be in there long. You can watch me interrogate the bastard. We’re miked, so you’ll be able to hear everything we say.”
“Perfect.”
The door to the interrogation room opened and Trevor walked in.
Harry leaned over to Trevor. “Mr. Laxman, here, waived his right to a lawyer.”
“I’m innocent.”
“Fine.” Trevor sat across from Bernie. “Can you tell me what you were doing at my parents’ house this morning?”
Bernie’s gaze shot to the mirror, then back to Trevor. “I was following Lara. I needed to talk with her.”
She leaned closer, her fingers grasping the window ledge.
“You admit you were stalking Lara Romano?”
She held her breath, the violation unnerving her.
“Not stalking. We’re friends. I work with her. I know what’s going on, and I’m worried about her.”
Trevor leaned forward. “What is going on?”
“Some lunatic is after her. I think he’s targeting me too.” Bernie slapped a hand on his chest.
Harry wrote something on the pad. “Why do you think someone is after her?”
Trevor’s brother spoke real slow.
“I hear things at the lab. I know some crazy bastard broke into her house and wrote her a threatening note. I even found...” Bernie dropped his head and spoke so low she lost what he was saying.
Trevor shot a glance at the window. “Found what?”
“Her necklace. I think the same person who planted the jewelry at my house is threatening Lara. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
Trevor’s lower jaw jutted to the right. “You know who’s threatening her?”
Bernie adjusted his glasses and rubbed his nose. “I can’t be positive, but I have a guess.”
Harry looked up at the two-way mirror and rolled his eyes. He dumped the contents of the Manila envelope on the table, and a necklace slid out. “Why did you take this?”
Lara gasped. “That’s my necklace.” She rapped on the glass to get their attention, but no one seemed to notice.
Bernie pointed to the red beaded pendant. “Some officer came to my house while I was on vacation. My father told me how he stomped in and demanded to see my room. The officer took a torn yellow shirt of mine, though I have no idea why. When I returned home, I found this necklace hidden in my drawer that I recognized as Lara’s. She wears it a lot. I knew someone was trying to frame me for something.”
“Who do you think put it there if not you?” Trevor leaned forward and pounded a fist on the table. Bernie jumped.
“I don’t know for sure.”
Harry flipped through his notes. “What about the other necklace? The Algonquin Fox necklace and bracelet set.”
Bernie ran both hands down the front of his shirt. “I wasn’t aware they were missing.”
Trevor leaned back in his chair. “How did you know Lara and I would be at my folks’ house at six in the morning?”
“I, ah.” His gaze shot to the ceiling and wet his lips. “As soon as I found the necklace in my drawer, I wanted to talk to Lara. I knew the police would suspect me, especially after they took my shirt. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to say to her without you thinking I was guilty of something, so I followed you from the hotel, waiting for the right moment.”
Acid bit into her stomach. The weasel had followed them from their hotel? Bernie was depraved, sick bastard. Dammit. Here she thought staying in a nice hotel in the middle of a city would be safe.
Trevor and Harry grilled Bernie a little longer but no more outbursts occurred. Eventually, Trevor left Harry to finish the conversation. Trevor didn’t say a word when he approached her. Instead he gently clasped her arm and led her back to the office area. They were halfway there when it hit her. The smell.
She halted, and he turned around. “What is it?”
“It might not mean anything, but while I was driving Bernie’s car, there was a distinctive odor coming from the backseat or possibly the trunk.”
He pulled her closer to let two men get around them. “Describe distinctive.”
“Like a decomposing body.”
Her jerked forward and held out his hand. “Keys.”
“I left them in my purse at the desk.”
They sped down the hall to the office, her ankle protesting the quick moves. She found the keys and handed them to him. He took off, and Lara followed at a slower pace. Opening the driver’s side door, he stuck his head in and inhaled. When she arrived, he stood back up. “I can’t smell much.”
“Then your nose is defective.” She pulled open the back door and inhaled. “How can you not smell that?”
He slipped next to her. “It’s stronger back here. Maybe something is in the trunk.” Trevor popped open the back.
“Can we legally look in there?”
“Yes, since he gave me the keys.”
He stepped to the back of the vehicle. “Well, looky what I found.” He pulled out of pair of gloves from his back pocket, slipped them on, and lifted the baggie.
“My God, what is it?” The mass of blood and skin defied description.
“I think we found Julie Bowman’s scalp.”
Lara hated to move again, but if Bernie could find her, so could her stalker, assuming they were two different men. She felt like a chess piece in a very sick game. Trevor insisted she remain cooped up in the new hotel room. No work, no shopping, nothing.
“With Bernie in jail, I think I’ll be safe at work.” She’d begged her case a few times, but Trevor wasn’t hearing any of her pleas.
“No.” Trevor unpacked his clothes and stuffed them in the drawers.
“I have a job. A new job. Besides, it will take my mind off of what’s going on if I’m at the lab. You said with the evidence against him, no judge would let Bernie out on bail.”
“Maybe, but I won’t chance Bernie’s innocent.”
“Are you tired of dragging me around? Is that why you want me to stay put?” She tried not to let the frustration color her tone.
“Now you’re talking crazy. Finish unpacking.”
“What if the person who’s after me is able to get into this new hotel? With you gone, I’m safer at work. He could bribe a maid, pretend to be a maintenance man and then steal a card.”
Trevor spun back around. His stomach contracted, almost as if she�
��d punched him. “You might be right.”
Lara clasped his shoulders. “Something happened to make you so possessive. What was it?”
He held her gaze, opened his mouth, and then snapped it shut. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Trevor twisted out of her grasp.
So now he throws that line back at her. Secrets. She hated them, but she wasn’t ready to reveal hers either. She was a firm believer in picking her battles and now wasn’t the time to demand the truth from him. In silence, she finished putting her things away until she couldn’t hold in her opinion any longer.
“You didn’t cause your brother to get shot.” She held her breath, waiting for him to break down, confess his inner demons, or yell.
“I know,” Trevor said a long moment later.
“Something is bugging you.” Now she sounded like Trevor. She wanted to ask where the old Trevor Kinsey had gone, but she understood the moment Ethan disappeared, he’d turned into another person.
He placed his empty duffel bag in the closet. “My brother is possibly dead, and I have no clue where he is. I’m trying to come up with a plan to find the bastard who harmed him. If I’m short with you, I’m sorry.”
The tightness around his mouth and his squared shoulders convinced her he was working hard to hold in his frustration.
“I do understand what a difficult time this is for you, but I need to understand the real issues here. Is your insistence I don’t leave this room really about my safety or are you fighting other evil spirits here?”
He glanced to the ceiling and blew out a breath. “Maybe both.” His cell buzzed. “Excuse me.” Trevor slapped the phone to his ear. “Kinsey.” Trevor walked to the window. With his back to her, she couldn’t make out everything he said. “Hold on a sec.” Trevor turned and put the phone on speaker. “Go ahead. I want Lara to hear this.” He mouthed it was Carla.
“Phil asked me to do a background check on Bernie.”
She stepped closer to the phone and turned her head to hear more clearly.
“What did you find out?” he asked.
“Bernie had a rough start in life before he turned it around. He left home when he was eighteen and was in a gang. He was never arrested though.”
Lara stepped closer to the phone. “Are you talking about the shy man, Bernie Laxman?”
“I know. I can’t believe it either, honey. He wandered from job to job until he met Nancy Cross. She came from a wealthy family. Long story short, he married her, and she helped put him through school. He had some issues with debt—gambling for the most part. The wife paid the first few times before she booted him out.”
She looked up at Trevor. “I didn’t know Bernie was married. When was the divorce?”
“About eight months ago.”
Trevor’s face remained unreadable.
“There is one more thing,” Carla said, the sound of the computer keys going wild. “He attempted suicide a month later.”
“How the hell did he get hired at the lab?” Trevor leaned closer to the phone.
“I’m guessing whoever did the background check never uncovered the suicide or else his wife had enough connections to have the information expunged. Bernie had an exemplary record at his last lab.”
“I trust HOPEFAL contacted his references,” Lara said.
“Yes. According to his personnel file, his former lab mentioned Bernie had some treatable emotional issues. Pomerantz wanted to give him a second chance after Bernie agreed to go to therapy.”
“Where’s the wife now?” Trevor asked.
“I’ll have to do more work if you want that answer.”
“Do that, will you?”
“I’m on it.”
Trevor hung up.
Lara couldn’t wrap her mind around the Bernie she knew with the man Carla had described. At work, he was focused and attentive to her. Yes, he was arrogant, but so were a lot of smart people who worked at the lab. “What do you think?”
“The murders could be a way to make him feel powerful after his wife left him.”
She’d taken one psychology course in college. Now she wished she’d spent more time studying the criminal mind. “I guess. Do you think we can get his records from the therapist?”
“Not without a court order.”
“It shouldn’t be that hard since he was in possession of a murdered woman’s scalp.”
“Regardless, it won’t help us find Ethan.” He led her over to the table near the window. “Did Bernie ever talk about his friends?”
“I didn’t know he had any. It was all business between us. I only interacted with him when I sent samples to the lab to be analyzed. That’s why I can’t see him coming after me.”
“Unless you look like his ex-wife.”
No way. “Maybe Carla can pull up a picture of Mrs. Bernie Laxman.”
“According to Phil, if anyone can, it’s Carla.”
Lara drew a pad of paper toward her, along with the hotel pen and made some notes about her coworker. “Suppose Bernie is the killer and you’re able to prove it, how long before I can go home and get my life back?”
“The murders and disappearances have been occurring every few days. I say if we have no activity for the next two weeks, we can think about Bernie being our man.”
Trevor’s cell rang again. “Kinsey.” His jaw tightened as he listened. “It can’t be.”
24
Trevor pocketed the phone, his face pale.
“What?” Lara leaned forward.
“The necklace that Bernie had?”
“Yes.”
“HOPEFAL tested it. They found traces of Ethan’s blood on the underside.”
Blood rushed to her brain, making her light-headed. “Bernie shot Ethan?” How could she have missed the signs? She shivered, remembering the times she was alone with him in her lab.
“The arrows are pointing that way.”
“So now what?” She couldn’t grasp the ramifications.
“I want to talk to him again.” His jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed.
“Do you think the department will let you interrogate him if they think he is now a suspect in Ethan’s disappearance?”
“Maybe not, but I’ll find a way to learn what the creep knows.”
His cell buzzed again. “Christ. Kinsey.” Trevor listened for a moment, slid the pad toward him and motioned for her pen. He scribbled an address, but upside down, she couldn’t make out the words.
“Thanks, Carla.” He hung up. “Bernie’s interrogation will have to wait.” He pushed back his chair and stood.
Lara nodded to the pad. “Who lives at this address?” A headache began to brew right behind her left eye.
“Bernie’s ex-wife. I think I’ll have better luck getting answers out of her than with her ex-husband. Maybe she can give a lead as to where Laxman is keeping Ethan.” He dialed two numbers before he reached Nancy Cross, the ex-Mrs. Laxman, and told her why he needed to speak with her. “Can we stop over now?”
As soon as he disconnected, she touched his hand. “I want to go with you.” She didn’t want to wait for him for hours.
“Since Bernie’s in jail, you should be safe. Just stay by my side.”
“I’ll be safe if he’s the guilty one.” Though the evidence did seem to point to his guilt.
Trevor led the way out the hotel, checking for anyone suspicious on the way to the parking garage. He peeled out of the lot and sped toward I-275, surprisingly not using his lights. Officers of the law must be above being caught because Trevor did not drive even close to the speed limit.
After studying the address for a few seconds, she understood where they were headed. Carla had said the woman came from wealth, but she hadn’t expected a home in Avila, the posh estates in North Tampa.
The guard checked their name on a list and gave them directions to the house. Nancy Cross Laxman met them at the door. Other than the wheelchair, everything about Bernie’s ex-wife was perfect—perfect face, perfect makeup, and p
erfect dress. But with the blonde hair and pale skin, she didn’t resemble Lara one bit. There went the theory that Bernie had targeted Lara because she looked like his wife.
“Please come in.”
The throbbing in Lara’s head had lessened, but her unease didn’t disappear even though the house was as nice as Lara’s parents’ place. Whereas her mom and dad preferred classic furniture, this place was all modern, a style she didn’t picture the disheveled Bernie enjoying.
“Detective, you said Bernie was arrested for trespassing and possibly murder?” Nancy’s lips pressed into a thin line and her hands squeezed the chair arms tight.
A Hispanic woman hustled into the living room. “Would your guests like something to drink, ma’am?”
Nancy Cross Laxman looked to both her and Trevor.
He waved a hand. “No, we won’t be staying long.”
The maid disappeared.
“What would you like to know about Bernie?”
“When was the last time you spoke with your ex-husband?” he asked.
She glanced at her hands and ran a finger across her bare ring finger. “We divorced close to a year ago, and we haven’t been in contact since.”
“May I ask the reason for the divorce?” he asked.
“Bernie’s uncontrollable anger, and the fact he developed destructive behaviors I could no longer tolerate.”
“Such as?”
“He gambled, Detective. My family had money and Bernie resented it.” Her gaze traced a line across the ceiling. “It’s partly my fault.” She closed her eyes for a moment. “My family has ties to the Indian Casino where Bernie did his business.”
Lara swallowed. The Indian connection slammed into her, causing her knees to weaken.
“I helped oversee the day-to-day operation there. My husband worked in a lab and felt unappreciated for his tireless efforts. He believed that if he could contribute more to our household finances, we’d have a better life. In an effort to help, I invited him to come with me to the casino on the weekends, to show him that I, too, had a job few appreciated.”
“And Bernie took advantage of his time there.” Trevor jotted notes in his pad.