Why did she keep showing up? Maybe she was alone also. Looking for someone to become close to. She’d spoken of an ex-husband, but never mentioned children. Was that because she could never have any of her own or because of Pamela’s loss?
Pamela clutched her hand to her heart. A sob escaped.
They were waiting for her father-in-law to arrive though Pamela had never met him. She didn’t know why he had to be there. She was the man’s wife. She cupped her hands under her armpits. She couldn’t seem to get warm.
Jane had been kind enough to drive her to the morgue. Pamela stared at the door where Anthony Smirnov lay, her fingers trembling.
The medical examiner had removed a serrated-edged knife from her husband’s chest. He’d apparently died within ten minutes of being stabbed. From the blood and footprints, the police had guessed that he’d walked quietly through two yards to get to Pamela. Things romance novels were made of.
Or horror films, depending on how you looked at it.
A thin, old man walked through the door. Tears stood in his eyes.
Jane walked up to him and took his hand. “Mr. Smirnov, I’m sorry for your loss. This is Pamela, your son’s wife.”
They nodded to one another. No talk about how his son had been involved in anything nefarious. That would come later.
The man reeked of alcohol. Maybe this was how he handled it.
Jane knocked on a door to her right, and a large man answered. They whispered to each other for moment, then the man came out.
“My name is Fred McCay. Would you like to come in now?” he asked Pamela.
“Please.” Mr. Smirnov looked at her with a longing in his eyes that said he needed this just as much, if not more than her.
“Can he come also?” Pamela asked, suddenly not wanting to go in alone.
“Sure.”
McCay escorted them and Detective Iverson into a cold impersonal room that looked like an advertisement for stainless steel. Standing next to the table, it happened so fast. She hadn’t had time to prepare for what she was going to see. No time to grab hold of Mr. Smirnov’s hand, to keep him from wavering.
When the sheet was pulled back, she stepped closer and looked at her husband for what probably seemed like a long time to everyone, especially McCay and Detective Iverson.
Who would want a job like this?
The man on the gurney looked odd. Waxy. Was it really Phillip? Andrew? Then she saw the tiger tattoo on his shoulder. No mistake this time.
She touched his shoulder. Tears blurred her vision. What if she had said the right words to stop him from protecting her the night of the shooting? What if they'd both left the house together?
“I’m so sorry, my love.” She bent down and kissed his forehead.
“Is that your husband?” Iverson asked.
“Yes.” Pamela nodded to ensure they heard her whispered reply.
“Sir, your son?”
Mr. Smirnov’s jaw wobbled, and he nodded also.
The technician guided them from the room to where Jane was still waiting.
“Would you like to sit?” she asked them.
Pamela’s stomach jumped. “Bathroom?”
“What?”
“Bathroom.”
Jane rushed her to the room down the hall. Pamela sped into a stall and threw up. She stayed there for a moment to ensure she was through before coming out to find Jane standing at the sink with a bottle of water.
“Here.”
“Thanks.” Pamela looked at the pale woman in the mirror. Tears welled. She broke down, and Jane held her, allowed her to sob all over her jacket. Except for Daddy, Pamela had never depended on anyone like this before.
After getting most of it out of her, she wiped her nose. “Does anyone know anything?” she asked Jane.
“Not yet.”
With Phillip dead, someone had taken the answers she needed most. Would Mr. Smirnov know anything? And would he be willing to tell her if she asked?
***
Jane stood near the doorway as Pamela and Mr. Smirnov sat on the sofa, talking in low voices. That was how it was in here every time she came. Low voices. Like people were afraid they’d disturb the dead.
Trish walked up to Jane and whispered, “Do you think they’re going to be okay?”
“I don’t know. Might be good for them to talk.”
“I’ll see if they want to get breakfast or coffee.”
Jane’s cell rang, and she glanced at the screen. Terri. “I need to take this,” she said to Trish.
“Anything important?”
“Just my sister’s wedding.”
“How fun.”
“Depends on how you look at it.” Jane grunted a laugh and walked from the room. The last thing Mr. Smirnov needed was someone being jovial at a time like this.
“Hey.” Jane purposely kept her voice down like everyone else.
“Sorry to call, but I needed to vent to somebody, and Poppy isn’t awake yet.”
“Actually, I’m dealing with a case right now, so make it fast.”
“Mom’s driving me crazy. She wants to take over everything from the colors for the wedding to the flowers, everything.”
“You know how she is when it comes to a party.” Jane watched the three through the window on the waiting room door.
“Yeah, but this is my wedding.” Her sister whined.
Pamela rose and walked to the door, nodding at Jane through the same window she’d been watching them through.
“Jane. Jane.” Irritation rose in Terri’s voice.
Jane let out a loud breath. “I told you I was in the middle of something.”
Trish opened the door and Pamela walked out with Mr. Smirnov, her arm around his.
“You’re always in the middle of something.”
Jane could almost see her sister pout. “Sorry, I don’t sit behind a desk all day in a call center like you do.” She followed the three to the front door heading out.
“I know you don’t, but sometimes I need you.”
“Listen.” Jane’s voice rose, causing Trish to glance over her shoulder. “I can’t always be there for you guys.” Jane lowered her voice again. “I have a job and a family of my own you know.”
“I just wanted your opinion.”
“What you need to do is pick your battles.” Someone walked by, and Jane paused until they passed before continuing. “Figure out what three things are most important, then let Mom have the rest.”
“Just three.”
“There’s a lot of little stuff that needs to get done, like food. That’s Mom’s forte. Let her run with it, then you choose the dress.”
“That’s a good idea,” Terri said. “She wants to do the cake anyway.”
“She’ll do a good job, you know it. And it’ll save on costs.”
“You’re right.” Terri huffed out a breath. “I guess I just wanted the total experience of going and tasting, and all that.”
“Have Mom do a tasting. That would make her day. But remember, you’re not going to have enough time for the entire experience unless you put off this wedding.” Jane knew she’d get stuck doing more than she wanted, especially handholding.
“You’re the greatest,” Terri said. “I just needed your voice of reason. If I can get Mom to do a tasting, will you come?”
“If I can be there, I will.” Jane hung up the phone as they reached the parking lot.
“We’re going for coffee,” Trish said.
Mr. Smirnov patted his face with a handkerchief. “Both my boys are gone.” A tear ran down his cheek. “I should have raised them better. I should have been a better dad.” He nodded. “I wish I’d been a better dad. A better man.”
Pamela wrapped an arm around his shoulder.
When Jane had first met him, he acted like he didn’t care one way or the other for his children. She’d been wrong. It just proved not everyone was as they seemed.
They walked out to the parking lot. Pamela insisted on driv
ing Mr. Smirnov to a local coffee shop. Jane bowed out of joining them. Trish and Jane walked together to their cars parked beside each other.
“What now?” Trish asked. “Will you continue to look into the insurance thing?”
“No. I was hired to find Pamela’s husband. That’s done.” Jane stood next to Trish’s car. “Besides, the police are on that now, maybe even the feds because of the deaths in different states.”
Trish blanched.
Jane forgot how others weren’t used to her type of work.
“Once we get done with coffee,” Trish said, “I’ll see if I can get Pamela to come home with me. I don’t think she should be alone right now.”
“You’re probably right. She has to make plans for the funeral. Might be good to have a someone along.”
Jane waited until Trish drove away before getting into her rental. Could Trish’s need to help Pamela be a way to help herself through this as well? She had to have some conflicting feelings over losing the man, even if he ripped her off.
After pulling from the lot, a pang of disappointment rushed in. No way would the feds welcome her interference in the case. They weren’t as patient with outsiders as locals were. She was sure Sawyer would keep her up to date, but it wasn’t the same as being there.
At least Cam would be happy she was out of it. No more reason for someone to force her off the road.
Chapter 29
It was after five when Winston trudged into the kitchen, the aroma of fresh bread greeted her. It’d been over thirty-five hours since she last slept. Hopefully, she’d pass out good once she laid down. Doubtful since it was her anniversary. Thankfully, she’d been so busy, it helped keep her mind off that dates.
Jane didn’t come into the office at all, probably home getting rest after her accident.
In the kitchen, Marcia tossed salad in a bowl. “I made you something light, just salad and bread. Figured I’d have to carry you to bed, didn’t want you to be too heavy.”
Winston grunted a laugh. The front gate buzzed causing them both to look in that direction.
“You expecting someone?” Marcia asked.
“No one.” Winston went over to the computer and flicked on the security camera. Charles Iverson’s face came up on the screen. She pressed the gate release to allow him entry. So much for an early night.
“He going to eat with you?”
Winston hadn’t heard Marcia come up behind her. After the stabbing of Andrew Smirnov the night before, Winston was more jittery than normal.
“I don’t know,” Winston said. “Is there enough?”
“Always.”
She allowed Charles in. He had a file folder in his hand.
“Good evening,” she said. “What brings you clear out to St. Johns County?”
“I wanted to check on you and show you a video.”
Winston caught sight of Marcia watching from the kitchen. Charles glanced at the housekeeper, but Marcia made no move to disappear. Carlos walked in from the back. He said something to her, and she finally returned to her work.
“Chaperones, huh?” Charles smiled.
“Yeah.” Winston showed him into her office. “Have a seat. Dinner’s almost ready if you’d like to join me. It’s just salad, but you’re more than welcome.”
“I wish I could, but I still have work to do.” He plopped down in the chair by the desk. “I wanted to let you know we found a gun on Smirnov. The bullets matched those taken from Phillip Evers’s body. That solves one case.” He opened the file he was carrying and pulled out a photograph, handing it to her. “Onto the second. Do you recognize this vehicle?”
The picture was dark and grainy, taken at night. Other than seeing the car parked in the street with a figure inside, she couldn’t see much.
“Where is this?” she asked.
“Two blocks from the Evers’ home.” He gave her another picture. “The house they parked in front of has a security camera. You can see someone getting from the car. A woman.”
“I can’t make her out in the dark, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen the vehicle before.” Winston slid it back. “Do you know who’s it is?'“
He shook his head. “I can’t tell if she’s a potential witness, just someone out and about, or the perpetrator.”
His phone rang, and he excused himself. Within minutes, he returned. “The car is a rental taken out by Meg Herbert.”
Winston tried to hide her shock. “Do you think she had anything to do with Smirnov’s stabbing?” she asked.
“I don’t know. She turned the rental back to the company this morning. It’s being checked over by the local police.” He tucked both pictures back in his folder. “There’s only one reason someone would rent a car instead of using their own.”
“Could be hers was in the shop.” Winston got up and paced.
“Okay. Two. But I’m betting it had more to with her wanting to sneak back without anyone knowing.” He raised one of his eyebrows. “I’m going to head to Savannah in case they find anything.”
“Drive careful. I know you’ve had little sleep.”
“Did Mrs. Herbert seem out of sorts when you spoke with her at the M.E.’s office?”
“Well yeah, she’d just identified her dead son.”
“I mean, did she seem the type to go off and stab someone?”
“I’m not the best person to assess someone’s mental state,” Winston said.
“Well, if Mrs. Herbert contacts you for any reason, let me know.” He turned to go with Winston following.
“I’m not sure she would, but if so, I’ll call.” She took hold of his arm. “Be careful with her, Charles. Even if she stabbed Smirnov, she did so because she thought he was responsible for the death of her son. And now she might have realized what she’s done. That makes her someone with nothing to lose.”
Chapter 30
Pamela had her phone on speaker as she spoke to Toma and flipped through music suggestions from the funeral home. What do you use for a man you never really knew? It had been three days since she kissed her husband goodbye at the morgue. She’d spent most of the weekend making funeral arrangements with Toma, crying, and getting angry at the man who had died with all his secrets.
Though the police had finished asking her questions, the media now took up stakes pretty much on her front lawn with questions of their own.
“I’m not sure of his music choices.” Toma’s words slurred over the line though it was early in the day. “I’m sorry I’m not much help.”
“That’s okay.” She realized his problem wasn’t a dead son, it was too much alcohol. No wonder his son never mentioned him. “It wasn’t like Andrew went to church, and that’s mostly what is listed here.” It’d taken her most of the weekend to get used to calling her husband by his real name. She scanned the song list provided by the funeral home.
“No. No, he didn’t. Something I never encouraged.” He let lose a cough. They’d spent several times on the phone making arrangements. She’d discovered he was suffering from emphysema. Not that that stopped him from smoking. Good thing he didn’t need an oxygen tank yet.
“Here are a couple that aren’t religious. Bridge Over Troubled Waters and My Heart Will Go On.
They both agreed those would do well.
“Have the police told you anything new?” Toma asked.
“No.” Neither brought up the insurance scheme, so she couldn’t be sure he knew anything about his son’s past. If he didn’t know, she was sure it’d only enhance his drinking problem.
“I still don’t know who would want him dead. He had his problems but was a good boy deep inside. That’s how he found you.”
“That’s kind of you.” She couldn’t be sure his words were sincere. He hadn’t wanted to stay on Friday, after the morgue, in a hurry to get back home. That was until she brought him to her own home. All he talked about the entire time was how large her house was with only her there. She thought he might be hinting at her bringing him up to
live with her. Not going to happen.
She pushed aside the funeral information. “I wonder if his death had anything to do with those licenses and the key Jane found in the attic. I’m not sure she ever found out what storage unit it went to.”
“Key? Storage unit?”
Pamela flinched at Trish’s voice. She’d forgotten Trish was in the back ordering flowers for the funeral. Pamela held her finger up to indicate she’d be off the phone in a minute. Once finished with Toma, she leaned back and let out a loud breath.
“At least that’s finished.” She placed the song list on the end table.
“So, what’s this about a key?”
“Jane found a key to a storage unit Andrew apparently hid in the attic.” Pamela took a sip of coffee from the mug beside her. “She never said whether she found what unit it went to.”
Just more unanswered questions she’d have to learn to live with.
***
Jane did another run up Mr. Jeffries’s block with a basketball. He was still seated on his front porch. Apparently, she hadn’t tempted him yet to play ball. Maybe he really was disabled. She sent a text to the insurance company to see what they wanted her to do as she headed to the office.
Jane pulled out her receipts and typed up a report for Pamela along with a final bill.
Her phone rang. She glanced at the screen. Trish.
“Hello.”
“Jane, Pamela and I were talking, and she wondered if you ever found out what storage unit that key went to.”
Jane grimaced. She’d forgotten all about it. “No. Too many possibilities.”
“Well, we’d like to give it a try.”
Jane let out a laugh. “You, why?”
“Just to see if we can locate it. See what’s inside.”
“Unfortunately, I need to give it to the feds. They’ve taken over the case.”
“It’s Pamela’s property.” Trish’s words were curt. “Don’t you think you should turn it over to her instead?”
“No, I don’t. And you two looking into something this dangerous could only get you hurt.”
Chasing a Dead Man Page 15