A Deadly Row mbtn-1

by Mayes, Casey

  “I have a wonderful idea. Let’s have dinner tonight, just the two of us.”

  “I wish I could, Lorna, but I can’t.”

  “Lunch tomorrow, then. Come on, it will be fun.”

  “I’m honestly not sure what our schedule will be like while we’re here,” I said.

  “Then we can make it breakfast. You have to eat sometime, don’t you?”

  “Breakfast sounds good,” I agreed.

  “I’ll see you here tomorrow in the hotel restaurant. Eight o’clock on the dot.”

  “Eight it is,” I said. I wasn’t sure why Lorna was so insistent about sharing a meal with me, but I’d deal with that tomorrow. At the moment, I just wanted to get back and see what Zach had been up to.

  I FOUND MY HUSBAND DEEP IN THOUGHT WHEN I GOT BACK to the task force headquarters at the police station. There had been a note on his door that said, “Quiet. Genius at Work,” and I pulled it off to show him.

  “Please tell me you didn’t write this yourself,” I said as I showed him the notice.

  “What? No, it’s just probably somebody’s idea of a joke.”

  The rigid sheets of insulation—once empty silver—were now filled with copies from the files. A nice-sized copier sat in one corner of the room, and the original documents were on tables in different sections of the space, making it feel like some kind of weird maze. No doubt there was some kind of order there, but I knew no one else would be able to see it but Zach.

  I avoided the area where the photographs were displayed, then studied the montage of the backs of the communiqués from the killer. Numbers and letters were interposed in the oddest arrangements, but if they made any sense, I couldn’t see it, and I prided myself on my orderly mind.

  I’d been focusing so intensely, I hadn’t realized that Zach was standing right behind me.

  “It’s odd, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “I’m sure it means something, but who knows what the killer’s mind is like? This could be a recipe for cereal, for all we know.”

  “It’s significant, I know that much,” Zach said as he shook his head.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I can’t explain it. It’s something in my gut,” he told me, and that was good enough for me. My husband’s years as a police officer had given him instincts based on experience that I would stack up against anyone’s intuition. Added to that was his uncanny ability to cut through the fog to see what was really happening, and it was no wonder that his consulting business was starting to pick up. The problem with that was that the cases he got were only the very hardest, and that put a strain on him that I didn’t like.

  “Where’s your minion?” I asked as I looked around the room.

  “Steve had to take care of a problem with his landlord,” Zach said. “I’m having him reassigned to me, so at least there’s that. He’s going to be my gopher so I don’t have to run all over Charlotte tracking things down.”

  “I like the sound of that,” I said as I hugged him.

  “What was that for?”

  “You looked like you could use a hug.”

  “Thanks, but we should probably keep that to a minimum around here. We don’t want people talking.”

  I laughed at him. “Zach, it’s okay. We’re married.”

  “You know what I mean. This is serious business, and I don’t want anyone to think I’m treating it otherwise.”

  I broke free. “Message received.”

  “You’re not mad, are you?”

  “Why should I be mad? My husband doesn’t want to hug me, but other than that, I’m just dandy.” I smiled at him to show that I was teasing.

  “Thanks. Did you get us set up in a room?”

  “You might say that.”

  “Savannah, what’s with that smile?”

  “We’re in a suite on the top floor,” I explained.

  He shook his head. “And you let them put us there? We’re on the taxpayer’s dime here. We don’t need a suite.”

  He reached for his phone and I put a hand over his to stop him. “It’s compliments of the hotel’s owner, so it isn’t costing the people of Charlotte a dime.”

  “Why on earth would the owner of the Belmont put us up for free?”

  “I asked him that exact same question, and he told me that he had a personal stake in this.”

  Zach nodded. “Barton Lane.”

  “How did you know that? It’s supposed to be some kind of huge secret. I’m fairly certain that he’s not going to be happy that you figured it out so quickly.”

  Zach tapped a copied photograph, and though I didn’t want to look at it, after a second I drove back my queasiness and examined it. At least it wasn’t a crime scene photo, or one from the killer. The photograph appeared to be from an employee ID badge, and even though the conditions weren’t ideal, it was a decent picture of a pretty young woman with a nice figure and coppery hair.

  “She’s really pretty,” I said. “Was, I mean.”

  “Grady thought so, too.”

  I stared openly at my husband. “How could you possibly know that?”

  “They were dating when she was murdered,” Zach said.

  “Is that why we’re here?” I asked my husband. “Did someone kill her because she was close to Grady? It sounds like a pretty big coincidence, otherwise.”

  “You know I don’t believe in coincidences,” he said. “At first, Davis thought that it might have something to do with Barton Lane, but with the threats against Grady, they have to be tied together.”

  “What about the first victim?”

  Zach shrugged. “If he has any connection to Grady, nobody’s been able to find it so far.”

  “So, you’re not the only one who noticed the original connection.”

  “That’s why Davis hired me. He knows that if something happens to the mayor on his watch, he’s through.”

  That angered me. “It’s a matter of self-preservation, then. And here I thought he called you because he was worried about Grady.”

  “Why can’t it be both?” Zach asked. “I had to watch out for political ramifications all of the time when I had his job. It isn’t easy being chief, and nobody knows that better than I do. He’d done everything he can to catch this guy. I can’t think of a thing I would have done differently if I was in his shoes.”

  “You wouldn’t have had to bring in outside help,” I said.

  “Don’t count on it. There’s such a thing as being too close to a situation. I’ve got enough distance to look at it a little clearer, with none of the pressure Davis has.”

  “No, you just have to find a killer before one of your best friends is the next victim. That’s no pressure at all.”

  “I’m surprised to see you back here so soon,” Zach said. “How long were you gone?”

  “Are you trying to get rid of me already?”

  “No, of course not. I just thought you had another puzzle due today. You’re not skipping any deadlines for this, are you?”

  “I have a few in the bank. I’ll call Derrick and have him run one of those if he needs to.”

  “Savannah, I know how much you hate doing that.”

  “It’s no big deal. I’ll do one tomorrow, okay? Right after my breakfast appointment.”

  “You’ve got plans already? Who’s your date?”

  “Lorna Gaither. I ran into her in the hotel lobby, and she wanted to get together. I think she misses having me around. Would you like to join us?”

  Zach had never been one of Lorna’s fans, and it wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d been the one to break her up with Grady, though he’d never said anything to me about it, and there weren’t any secrets between us.

  At least I didn’t think there were.

  My stomach grumbled. “Zach, were you planning to eat dinner any time soon?”

  “It’s nowhere near time to eat.”

  “Look at your watch.”

  He glanced at it, then he said, “Sorry, I didn�
�t realize how late it was getting. I thought I’d just send out for a sandwich.”

  “Wow, could we make it two, or do we have to split yours?”

  “Savannah, you know how I get when I’m trying to get my hooks into a case. If you’d like to go out to Morton’s yourself, you have my blessing.”

  “I’d rather split a sandwich with you than have a steak by myself,” I said. “Let me grab a phone book and I’ll make the call.”

  “Fine,” he said absently, but I could tell that I’d already lost him. There was something about one of the photographs on the wall that he was fixated on, and I knew I could stand on the table in front of him and spout the Gettysburg Address and he wouldn’t even notice. I found a sandwich shop that delivered, placed our order, and then started looking through some of the paperwork spread out on tables. The first murder victim had been a man in his thirties named Hank Tristan. He’d been discovered in his bed with a single stab wound to the heart, and the police had determined that he’d been at the Black-Tie Ball the night before. The ball had been a fundraiser for Charity At Home, a group that raised money to help underprivileged children in the most rural areas of North Carolina. It had been hosted by Jerry Drake, one of the minority partners of the Charlotte Bobcats basketball team, a man who wasn’t afraid to use the clout of his connections to solicit donations for his favorite causes. Hank’s date had left the party early with a migraine headache, and he had stayed behind to dance with as many women as he could convince to join him on the floor. Nobody saw him leave, or even if he was alone at the time, and when he didn’t show up at his investment firm the next morning, his executive assistant, Julian King, had gone by the house to collect him.

  Evidently Hank enjoyed his partying, and had made it a duty of his aide to wake him if it was needed, help him into a cold shower, and get him ready for work. I didn’t know how much Julian made, but I couldn’t imagine that it was worth what he had to do. When the photo showed up, wrapped in Hank’s black bow tie, things elevated to an entirely different level. It was clear that whoever had committed the murder was now taunting the police with their crime. The interview list of everyone the police had talked to read like a Who’s Who of Charlotte society, and I wasn’t surprised to see the names of several of my friends there, including my breakfast date for the next day, Lorna Gaither. I wondered if it was possible that she’d seen something. As I flipped through the interviews, I found the one with Lorna, and after a few seconds, I realized that it wasn’t likely. She’d been attending the ball with Peter Colt, a man rich enough to own his very own mountain. Not just the peak, the entire thing. Lorna had danced once with Hank, and then she and Peter had left early when he had complained of being bored; neither of them had seen anything of note. I glanced through more interviews and found Grady’s name. His interview was a little more interesting. It appeared that he and Hank Tristan had had a disagreement, and there had been the threat of a physical confrontation when calmer heads stepped in and stopped them.

  “Did you see this?” I asked Zach as I held out the report.

  “I haven’t gotten to that stack yet. What is it?”

  He took the interview sheets from me and quickly scanned them. “Funny, Grady’s usually pretty good about controlling his temper.”

  “Unless there’s sangria around,” I said. “Remember the time at the Jackson barbeque he had two drinks and was ready to take on the world?”

  “There’s a reason some people shouldn’t drink. I wonder if he had a cocktail that night.”

  “It doesn’t say.” I saw my husband watching me. “Don’t look so surprised. You’re not the only one in our family who notices things. That’s the first thing that came into my mind, too.”

  “This is bad.”

  As Zach reached for his telephone, I asked, “Who are you calling?”

  “I want to see what Grady has to say about this.”

  “Hang on a second. You’re not actually thinking that our friend had anything to do with this, do you?”

  Zach gave me a noncommittal shrug. “I’m just gathering information right now.”

  “Don’t try to brush me off; you should know better than that by now. Do you honestly think Grady is capable of killing anyone?”

  He lowered the telephone. “Savannah, if he weren’t our friend and the mayor of Charlotte, wouldn’t he be at the top of our suspect list? I had no idea until just now that he had a fight with the first victim the night he died. I already knew that the woman he was dating was the second victim. I’m worried, and I’m not afraid to say it. We need to consider the possibility that Grady could be faking the latest threats himself.”

  “He wouldn’t kill anybody. He’s too nice a person to do that.”

  “Remember when I first became a cop? I had to arrest a grandmother of seven for killing her best friend because she beat her in a gardening show. Just because she baked cookies for blood drives didn’t mean she wasn’t a murderer. Until I’m sure that Grady wasn’t involved with either murder, I’m treating him as my prime suspect.”

  I knew better than to try to talk my husband out of anything. What was worse, I could see the logic of what he was saying. Was that why Davis had brought Zach in? Arresting the mayor, or even thinking that he could be guilty of multiple murders, could end his career if he was wrong. Hiring my husband was a good way to diffuse the blame if he was mistaken. Davis would bear watching. He might just be sneakier than I’d ever given him credit for.

  Zach made his call, and I listened in on his end of the conversation. He’d been curt and formal with Grady, and the mayor had agreed to come by the police station in half an hour.

  When our sandwiches arrived, I paid for them, though neither one of us felt much like eating. Zach was right; Grady belonged at the top of his suspect list, but I didn’t have to like it.

  As I nibbled at my sandwich, my husband said, “You need to make yourself scarce when Grady gets here.”

  “Why? I thought I was your assistant.”

  “Savannah, things might get a little dicey, and it would be better if you weren’t here.”

  “Man talk, is that what you’re saying?”

  Zach looked uncomfortable admitting it, but he finally said, “That’s part of it, certainly. Grady might open up more to me if you’re not in the room.”

  “I can watch his expressions while you interview him,” I said. “There’s a chance I might pick up on something that you wouldn’t see.” Another thought occurred to me. “What if I think of something to ask him that you miss? Can we afford to take that chance? Stop trying to protect me, Zach.”

  “It’s not that. If anything, my rationale puts you in more danger, not less. Forget what I said; you can stay.”

  I wasn’t about to give up that easily, even if it meant a win in my column. “What did you have in mind?”

  “It’s not a great idea.”

  “Why don’t you let me hear it, and I’ll be the judge of that. Come on, give.”

  My husband reluctantly explained, “If you’re not here during the interrogation, it might help keep you on good terms with Grady. We may need that. I plan to explore some pretty explosive lines of questioning, and there’s an excellent chance I’m going to thoroughly tick him off. If you can stay on his good side, there’s a chance we won’t lose total access to the man, but it puts you in a precarious situation. If Grady really is guilty, you could be in danger.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt me,” I said.

  “Don’t you think Cindy Glass thought the exact same thing?”

  “I don’t care,” I said. “But you’re right, I’m leaving the second he gets here.”

  “Savannah, I’m still not sure this is a good idea. We need to talk about it more before I’m willing to let you take such an active role in the investigation.”

  Things still hadn’t been decided ten minutes later when Grady arrived alone.

  The mayor tried to be playful as he said, “Before you chew me out, my bodyguard is downst
airs catching up with his pals. I figured I’m safe enough in here with you two.”

  There must have been something in our expressions, because Grady added, “You two look like you’ve just lost your best friend. What’s going on?”

  “We need to talk,” Zach said. That was my cue to leave, if I decided to go. My husband had ultimately left it up to me, and now was the time to figure out which option held the most promise for us. If I stayed, I might pick up on something that my husband missed, which wasn’t all that likely, I was the first to admit. But if I left, I’d still have an in with the mayor, a chance that would die if I stayed.

  I decided to try to have it both ways. “If you two will excuse me, I’ve got a puzzle to create.”

  “I’ve got to admit, I’m hooked on them myself. How often do you make them?” Grady asked me.

  “Every day.” As I walked out of the room, I looked back at my husband. It was pretty clear that he wasn’t happy with the decision I’d made to take chances with my safety, but it was ultimately my choice.

  That didn’t mean that I actually had to go back to the hotel and work on a puzzle, though. I kept the door purposely ajar so I could listen to their conversation without them knowing I was there. It wasn’t ideal, but it was certainly a lot better than just hiding in a hole until the storm blew over.

  Once he was sure I was gone, Zach said, “We need to have a serious conversation, Grady. That means no lies, no misdirection, no holding back on me. Is that understood?”

  Grady’s easy tone vanished. “What’s with the attitude, Zach? Was it a mistake bringing you back to Charlotte?”

  “Not as far as I’m concerned. The city’s hired me to do a job, and I aim to do it.”

  “You know I’ll cooperate all I can, but I never did like being bossed around. That’s why I’m the mayor. In a way, you could say that I am the city.”

  “Funny, I thought the citizens were.”

  Grady must have realized how pompous he was starting to sound. The edge was gone from his voice the next time he spoke. I would have given anything to study his face as he made that transition, but I couldn’t see more than a sliver of floor and shadow through the opening. “Is there any reason to have an attitude with me? We’re friends; at least I thought we were.”