There Was a Crooked Man: A Psychological Thriller

by Katrina Morgan

  Aside from the funeral, it was the longest speech Katie had ever heard Bob give. It was Julie’s turn to pat his shoulder. They left consoling one another.

  On Tuesday, Katie put more pieces in play. She asked Nick and Tanja if they could drive her truck to the Morrison’s. “It’s in Cassie’s name anyway. Oh, and there’s two-hundred dollars under the passenger floor mat. I’m gonna need every dime I have.”

  Julie and Bob initially refused the truck. Eventually, a deal was worked out where they would keep the vehicle until Katie’s release. They would then sell it to her for $900.00, effectively recovering Cassie’s savings but leaving Katie with a car. Montgomery put it in writing along with another paper giving him permission to handle Katie’s bills.

  Montgomery was finally able to meet with Steve from the fraud unit of the District Attorney’s office late Wednesday afternoon.

  Steve was adamant. “Look, I get it. Kathryn intended no harm, even had permission from the deceased. What she should have done is legally changed her name, gotten a divorce, and followed the law. We can’t let this go. Lots of people out there trying to start over.”

  “There were extenuating circumstances.”

  “Kathryn Werner isn’t the only one in such a boat.” Steve consulted his notes and sighed heavily. “I’ll throw out malicious intent.”

  Montgomery pulled his mustache, a sign he was thinking. “She purchased a truck, rented an apartment, and held down two jobs. She didn’t enter into any loan agreements or open a credit card. She even took out car insurance for God’s sake.” Montgomery was on a roll. “Hell, Steve, she turned herself in to the authorities.”

  Steve wasn’t giving in so easily. “She did all of those things using a deceased person’s name and social security number. Misappropriation of property.”

  Montgomery leaned back in his seat and stayed silent.

  Steve waited too but eventually acquiesced. “She turned herself in, you’re right. That makes this unusual,” he paused, “but the law is the law.”

  “I think we can work this out. The girl’s been in jail for six days, with another week to go before we’re back in court. She made arrangements to give the truck back to the Morrisons.” Montgomery fished a paper out of his folder and pushed it toward Steve as proof of the truck deal. Montgomery tapped the paper. “Your office can take credit for the truck deal. Make it a condition.” He kept talking before Steve could interrupt, “She’s still gainfully employed. Neither employer is willing to let her go. She has some money saved. She could pay a small fine.”

  Steve read his notes. “She didn’t break all the statutes. I can reduce it from aggravated felony theft to a Class B offense. It would reduce the sentence to one year and a fifteen-hundred dollar fine.”

  “How about time served, return the truck to the Morrisons, and a two-thousand dollar fine?”

  “You want to pay more?”

  “I want her out of jail.”

  “Time served, repay the nine-hundred and give the truck to Morrisons for emotional distress. Add in community service and a twenty-five-hundred dollar fine. Final offer.”

  The two men shook hands. The bargain was notarized and in Montgomery’s hand in less than an hour. He headed out to get Katie’s signature.

  A restraining order was served to Jack at work on Thursday, December 12th. He lost his mind and stormed out of the office, ranting and cussing. He sped toward Bluff Creek, intent on finding Nick Connelly and beating him senseless. The need to destroy overrode any potential consequences.

  Nick, however, was on his way to visit Katie, and the two men passed each other on the highway.

  Finding the Connelly office closed again, Jack realized he had no idea where to find Nick. Entering Tipsy’s, Jack hurriedly scanned faces. identified him immediately. “Something I can do for you?” She rapped the bar twice with a beer mug, the signal which always brought Colin out of his office.

  Colin stuck his head out of the door frame, and seeing Jack, joined Colleen at the bar. “What’s going on here?”

  Colleen pointed her chin at Jack. “Nothing. Jack was just leaving.”

  Jack narrowed his eyes and exited the restaurant. He went to the General Store next, remembering Katie rented an apartment overhead. Skinny Tom recognized him and came out from behind the counter.

  Craig joined him, watching Jack’s every move. “Something we can help you with, Mr. Werner?”

  Thaddeus and Jarrod walked over, arms crossed and scowling.

  Jack wisely walked away.

  Giovanni received a call from Skinny Tom and drove the main street looking for Jack. When he noticed a strange car parked crookedly in front of Connelly Rentals, he put the lights on the cruiser and pulled behind Jack’s vehicle.

  Jack lowered his driver’s side window with his left hand and used his right to tuck the knife down between the seats. That’s all I need right now, some fucking cop seeing a knife.

  Giovanni approached. “License and Registration.”

  Jack shook his head. “What the hell? I was parked. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “You were parked illegally. License and Registration, please.” Giovanni stood ramrod straight, watching as Jack dug in the glove box and pulled his wallet free from his back pocket. Giovanni took his time walking back to the police car and running the plates through the system.

  Giovanni sauntered back. “Mr. Werner, this is a small town. Strangers are noticed. Sorry to stop you like this.” Giovanni tore off the warning ticket and handed it through the window.

  Jack got the message and headed home.

  Chapter 68

  Lindsey Shepard set up the interview with Katie for Friday afternoon. Despite the fact live dialogue was risky, the reporter wanted the piece to run over the weekend. She and the sound crew built in a three-second delay in case someone dropped an F-bomb or said something inappropriate. She’d asked the Morrisons to be present, and they agreed. Guards stood outside the conference room.

  The interview opened with Bob and Julie hugging Katie and her hanging onto them so fiercely, her knuckles lost color. They sat on either side of Katie, while Lindsey sat on the opposite side of the table. It wasn’t ideal. She’d love to have had a living room scene, but time was of the essence if she wanted this exclusive.

  Lindsey opened the discussion, “Katie, it seems everyone in Georgia is aware of your story— How you and Cassie collaborated to use her name. We now know you left Savannah in September, changing your hair, appearance, and moving around. Why didn’t you just file for divorce?”

  “I didn’t believe Jack would grant a divorce. I needed to start over on my own."

  “Why did you stay in the marriage so long? Five years is a long time, and it appears to have gotten…well, messy.”

  Montgomery had coached Lindsey and Katie not to accuse Jack directly or use words such as abuse. Conscious of his warning, both women let the sentence hang for a few seconds knowing the audience would fill in the blanks.

  “I didn’t grow up with much. Your network gave the backstory, filmed my old neighborhood, and reported my parents' deaths. When Jack came along, he was answered prayer. He was smart, handsome, and he made me feel special. I would have done anything for him.” Katie lowered her head. “And did.”She took a ddep breath and continued, “When a person never has love, they'll accept a sorry substitute, because they don't know better. A compliment or display of affection is perceived as love. You don’t stop to ask if it’s real.”

  “When did you realize things weren't going well?"

  “Things were less than perfect from the time I moved to Savannah, but I thought it was me. I wasn’t working, and there was a lot of stress over money. I thought if I got a job, worked harder at the relationship, things would smooth out. Looking back, I can see red flags, but at the time, I considered them normal problems in a new marriage. By the time I understood our arguments and fights weren’t typical, it was too late.”

  Lindsey cocked her head, “Wh
at do you mean?”

  “I made a lot of adjustments over the first year--things I couldn't take back: moving away from the only family I had left, agreeing not to carry cash because we were budgeting. I didn't fight his tracking my phone initially because I was in an unfamiliar town and lost most of the time. It seemed a good idea for him to be able to find me." Katie shrugged. "To keep the peace, I’d let my friendships dwindle because Jack wanted my time. Which, if I’m honest, was flattering. Later, when I fully understood the situation, I was alone with few resources.”

  “Things changed when you met Cassie, didn’t they?” Lindsey spent a few minutes filling in details of Katie and Cassie’s friendship and showing a photo of the two women together. Drawing the Morrisons into the interview, Lindsey asked, “Did you ever have reason to suspect what Cassie and Katie were planning?”

  “Never.” Julie shook her head. “Katie added so much to Cassie’s last months. We were glad they found each other.”

  “If we’d known, we would have shut the idea down and encouraged Katie to take other avenues.” Bob glanced at Katie apologetically. She nodded, understanding.

  “Are you angry she used Cassie’s name?”

  “I was. Very. But now, knowing the whole story, it makes us sad.” Bob patted Katie’s shoulder.”

  Lindsey turned back to Katie. “We can only guess as to how this will end. Do you have plans? Plans for afterward?”

  Katie smiled. “I’m going home.”

  “To Savannah?”

  “No. Home is Bluff Creek. I want to go back to work, spend time with my new friends, maybe open a store someday.”

  “How about Nick Connelly?”

  Katie tilted her head, considering what she should and should not say. “I hope so."

  “That seems optimistic, given all you’ve been through. Is there anything else you want to say?”

  “I don’t understand the question.”

  Even Lindsey, usually so razor-sharp, had fallen in love with Katie. Lindsey paused and softened the question, leaning toward Katie. “A price has to be paid. You’re incarcerated. What would you say to others who are in similarly bad circumstances?”

  Katie looked momentarily at the ceiling. Gathering herself, she faced the camera. “I would tell any woman, or man, to stand up for themselves. Fight for what’s important. Don't settle for less because you think it's all you deserve."

  “Even in jail?”

  “Even in jail. People toss clichés at a situation— 'there's no time like the present, or there may not be a second chance.' Cassie and my new friends in Bluff Creek taught me otherwise. As long as we have breath, we can choose to move forward, to change, to create new opportunities. You just have to do it within legal parameters.” Katie had the gall to laugh.

  Julie squeezed Katie’s hand. “Cassie would be so proud of you.”

  “She knew how to live each day to the fullest.” Bob choked on his sentence.

  Lindsey allowed the moment to sink in, recognizing good television when it happened. After a few seconds had passed, Lindsey continued, “Katie, there’s one more thing you should know. A friend of yours, Colleen McQue, opened a Go Fund Me Account for your legal fees. The goal was ten-thousand dollars,” Lindsey paused. “The fund currently holds fourteen-thousand-two-hundred and thirty-three dollars."

  Katie’s hands flew to her face, and she wiped away the instant tears. “See? There are second chances. For the most part, people are good, and I’m so grateful.”

  The segment aired on Saturday and Sunday morning, and Jack admitted his life was over. There was no fixing this, and no second chances regardless of what Katie said. He’d divorce her and move on, literally. New place. New city. Her optimism was his ultimate demise. He could never return to his job or live on Forsyth Park without being a constant conversation piece.

  To avoid questions, Jack called work Sunday afternoon, leaving a message that he would not be in the next day.

  The Kane Brothers watched the interview, too. “All eyes are gonna be on Jack,” Scott, the oldest, concluded. He turned toward Tim. “You’ve been watching Jack. What do you think?”

  “He’s losing it. Been driving all over the city, drinking a lot. There’s a lot of pressure on him right now.”

  “What’s he going to do if they ask other questions?” Scott asked.

  Tim shrugged. “It’s probably time for Jack to disappear. I think a drunk driving accident would work.”

  Ronnie joined the conversation, “Nah. Too messy with no guaranteed outcome. We need to cut our losses. Clear our tracks. Leave it a mystery. His life’s falling apart, his job is questionable, and his wife is leaving him. It could just be too much for the man.”

  Scott leaned forward. “What are you thinking?”

  “We take him out and dispose of him far away from teh city," Ronnie answered, "Make it look like he ran."

  The three brothers sat thinking through the possible scenarios. Tim cocked an eyebrow, “It works for me.”

  Scott stood, indicating the meeting was over. Pointing at his brothers, he said, “You two, make it happen. No clues, no fingerprints, keep it clean."

  Tim agreed, already wondering how to get into Jack’s house and bypass the alarm.

  Nick drove to Atlanta and hand-delivered an envelope to Lindsey Shepard’s intern. It was marked ‘Kathryn Werner. Urgent.’ Nick walked away quickly before anyone asked questions.

  “What happens next?” Katie asked Montgomery on Sunday evening. “We file the plea bargain and motions on Tuesday. If the judge accepts the deal, you walk out a free woman. You’ll pay the fee and the payment to the Morrisons, and it will be over and done. Then you figure out how to start over again.” He smiled. “What is it now? The third time?"

  "I guess we get as many as necessary," Katie answered. "See you on Tuesday."

  The Sunday evening news had a new tidbit. "An anonymous source has sent information indicating Mr. Jack Werner was involved in a county audit earlier this year. There are purportedly papers showing evidence money laundering may have taken place.” Lindsey Shepard wiggled her eyebrows. “Who could have access to this information? A co-worker? Kathryn? The papers show receipts of money paid to Jack Werner.”

  Scott called Tim. "You see the latest news?"

  "Yeah. God knows what that asshole has on us."

  "When you get to Jack's house, you need to take the computer, files, thumb-drives, and any kind of records, too."

  Tim grunted and hung up.

  Jack closed his eyes, listening to the latest nail being pounded into his coffin. He swirled his drink. Who’d found his receipts? It had to be Katie. How the fuck did that Bitch get ahold of those? He sat drinking and hating her with a passion. Two more drinks had Jack passed out in the living room chair.

  Chapter 69

  Jack woke up Monday morning stiff and momentarily unsure of his surroundings. Taking in the living room, his clothes still on from the day before, he figured it out. In the small recesses of his brain, he admitted he was losing control.

  Groaning, he worked his way out of the easy chair and stumbled toward the kitchen needing Tylenol and coffee. The microwave showed it was ten a.m., and Jack was stunned he’d slept so late.

  Jack listened to his voicemail while playing with his knife. It was always nearby anymore and had become symbolic of Katie and all that she’d done to him.

  His boss Barry had left a message. “Jack, I got your call about not coming in today. But we’re going to need you in the office tomorrow. There’s a meeting scheduled at 9 a.m.” It was a cryptic statement, but Jack knew what was coming.

  Three reporters had called asking if he had comments about the allegations of money laundering, or Katie’s upcoming court appearance.

  His dad had left the longest message, “We just saw the news…” he blathered on a few minutes, “Your mom and I are concerned by what’s being implied. Do you need anything? A lawyer, maybe?”

  Jack slammed his phone on the counter,
regretting the noise and hanging onto his throbbing head.

  Tim and Ronnie Kane had risen much earlier than Jack and were discussing options while sitting in a construction garage—far away from reporters or investigators. Scott was laying low, staying in an alternative place in the city, and steadily removing evidence and creating alibis.

  Tim and Ronnie worked out a strategy—Tim would go in the back and Ronnie through the front. Having been to Jack’s house before, once to give a bid for the kitchen remodel and once to issue a warning, Tim knew the basic layout—mostly secluded backyard, kitchen and den in the back, all the bedrooms upstairs.

  The security cameras were the first priority. “We gotta knock those out,” Ronnie stated, and Tim nodded. “Yeah, I have a plan for that.”

  “Once that’s done, we grab Jack, and the files and get the hell out.”

  Jack spent the afternoon preparing to leave. His phone never stopped ringing, and he turned the damn thing off. He poured a hair-of-the-dog drink at two.

  The rest of the day was spent shredding documents and cleaning out files. He turned the cameras off, not wanting his last moves recorded. He made a quick trip to an ATM and came back home to pack. He’d leave town in the morning. There was no way his life was going to return to normal. He’d be fired tomorrow, and potentially arrested for fraud. The irony of his situation compared to Katie’s wasn’t lost on him, and he poured another whiskey and Coke.

  Late that night, Tim and Ronnie moved into place, circling the block where Jack lived. Tim pointed at the house where one faint light glimmered from an upstairs room. “Perfect.”

  Ronnie nodded as he slid on gloves

  They left the car on the street and made their way toward the house—Tim towards the back and Ronnie positioning himself near the porch. ‘Let me know when you’re ready,” Ronnie whispered.