by G. K. Parks
I hated that I couldn’t tell him the truth, but it was for the best. “So if Petrov and the Russians are out, what about other people in Knox’s life? I’m sure he had enemies. Everyone does.”
“We looked into everyone, but Knox wasn’t close with many people. The only family we found was a half-sister he hadn’t spoken to in eighteen months.”
“Who reported him missing?”
“His boss.” Renner pointed to a section of his notes. “Knox called in sick the day before he disappeared. But when he didn’t call or show up the next day, his boss got worried. A couple of officers went to his house to perform a wellness check, and that’s when they found his front door open.”
I read Renner’s notes. “Since you didn’t know when Knox went missing, how could you rule out his coworkers?”
“They were at work. We did our best to ascertain where they’d been that morning and the previous night. But everyone’s story checked out. Sure, it’s possible someone could have slipped away for an hour and done something to Knox, but he lived in a gated community. The only person who went to Knox’s house during the window in which he disappeared was Lucien.”
“What about the security guards at the gate?” The details weren’t included in Renner’s notes. “Did anyone check into them?”
“The guards were clean, even Lucien said so.”
I switched to Cross’s file. He’d performed background checks on the guards when he was determining who was responsible for the prior break-in. But they were clean. Cross believed that even though the main entrance had a gate, the wall around the rest of the neighborhood was easily penetrable. Anyone could jump the wall and get in and out undetected. And since the stuff taken from Knox’s house wasn’t large or heavy enough to require a van or truck, the thieves probably shoved it into a few backpacks and slipped out.
“The evidence of foul play isn’t clear,” I said, returning to Renner’s notes. “The broken glass and blood drops might not have been from a struggle. It could have been from an injury.”
“Cross said the same thing. He suggested Knox had cut himself on the broken door and left his house to seek medical attention, but since we found his car parked in the garage at his office with a small bloodstain in the trunk, that theory never sat right with anyone in the department. We believed the killer used Knox’s car to transport the man’s body.”
“Which would have meant Knox was already dead when he disappeared.”
“That’s what we figured.”
I knew that wasn’t true, but I didn’t want to correct Renner. “Okay, what about Knox’s last known whereabouts? Where’s the last place anyone saw him alive?”
“The night before he disappeared, Knox stopped for takeout on his way home from Cross Security. It was after midnight.” Renner found something about that disconcerting. He took the files from my hands and flipped the pages again.
“Knox was a client. That’s not that odd,” I said, hoping it was true. “What about his cell phone? Did you ping it?”
“It was off, so we couldn’t track it.”
“Did you follow up with the restaurant?”
“Yeah, right here.” He pointed to the shorthand he’d written. “Knox was alone. No one followed him when he left.”
“Let’s say Knox was alive when he vanished. How does that change your impression of the scene?”
Renner scratched at the greying patch near his temple. “It’s been so long. But if I were to walk into a scene like this today, knowing the guy was alive, I’d think he tried to stage his own death.”
That was the same conclusion I’d reached. “Did Moretti reopen the home invasion investigation?”
“It never officially closed. We found Knox’s belongings, but we never IDed the actual thieves.”
“They must have worked for Petrov.”
Renner nodded. “I’m sure of it, but Moretti got it in his head that whoever broke in to Knox’s place had intimate knowledge of the security system and had disassembled it, like the way a professional installer would do it.”
“Like Cross?”
“Now you’re starting to see why he was the prime suspect. It didn’t help matters that Lucien lied to us repeatedly.”
“About what?”
“Stupid things, but if he’d lie about them, why wouldn’t he lie about where he was and what he was doing?” That was the cop in Renner. Even though he was on our boss’s side, he realized the story didn’t make sense.
“What did he lie about?”
“When we questioned him the day Knox disappeared, Lucien had two black eyes and a broken nose. He said it was from kickboxing class, but his gym didn’t offer kickboxing classes. We checked.”
“Of course, you did.”
“Yeah,” Renner’s brows knit together, “so how did he get beaten up?”
“Another case?”
“Possibly.” He glanced at the file Justin had left. “Was Cross working on another case?”
“Bennett, you know I can’t answer that.”
“Yeah.” He turned to another page of notes. “We tailed Cross for a couple of weeks after Knox vanished, but he never did anything out of the ordinary. But as soon as we stopped following him, he got on a plane and flew straight to a non-extradition country.”
“How long was he gone?”
“According to passport records, four days. But he stayed gone for almost two weeks. Moretti was sure he wouldn’t come back to the city. He figured Cross killed Knox, realized what he’d done, and decided it’d be wise to get out of Dodge. We were surprised when he returned.”
“Did anything ever surface after that?”
“That was it. The department did its best to keep tabs on Cross, but too many other cases came up.”
“What about Commissioner Cross? What did he have to say about that? I wouldn’t think he’d want officers harassing his son.”
“He always told us to follow the evidence. If Lucien was guilty, I don’t think he would have protected him.”
Eleven
I had to start over and look at this with fresh eyes, without any preconceived notions. Truthfully, I didn’t know what happened eight years ago. All I could do was work the case like I would any other. Even though Moretti had worked the Knox disappearance and already had a starting point, Knox being alive after his initial disappearance had thrown a wrench into Moretti’s theory. He’d have to start fresh or close to it. I should have time to catch up. I just couldn’t do it in this office with Cross loyalists peering over my shoulder and asking for updates.
After collecting all of the files and facts, I went upstairs to speak to the forensic experts to see if they had made any progress on the note I’d left. They weren’t able to pull prints or find any DNA. The note had been written on a sheet of blank copy paper. They scanned it in, but without another handwriting sample to compare it to, it was useless.
“Here.” The tech placed it in an envelope to avoid contamination and handed it back to me.
“Great.” I gave it a wary look and tucked it into the top folder. “What about my car?”
“We didn’t find anything, except your oil’s a bit low.”
I had no intention of using the company car again until after the case was resolved. In the event Cross got sentenced for Knox’s murder, there would be no more Cross Security or company perks anyway. I might as well get used to it now. Plus, I didn’t want any more weirdos leaving vague threats on my windshield. I shook my head when he offered me the keys back. “My car’s downstairs. I’ll use that for now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Call me whatever you want, just not that.”
After thanking him for his help, I went to see Justin. Mr. Almeada had beat me to the punch and was speaking in hushed tones to Cross’s executive assistant. I cleared my throat as I headed for them.
“Thanks for the file, Justin,” I said. “Is there anything else I should know?”
Almeada looked at me. “I take it you
haven’t come up with anything yet.”
“I’m working on it. These things take time.” I resisted the urge to show him the threatening note. Almeada would blame the cops and file a harassment complaint. Right now, it’d be better to play nice. Honey and vinegar and all that. “Do you want to clue me in on the Russian thing?” I asked, paying close attention to see if Justin reacted to the comment. But my question didn’t faze him in the least.
“Let’s deal with one problem at a time.” Almeada told Justin to get everything together, and then the attorney led me into Cross’s office and closed the door. “Let me remind you it’s not safe to discuss these matters with anyone else.”
“Justin knows what’s going on.”
“Yes, and the police will question him about what happened eight years ago. We do not need them asking about what we’re doing now. Understand?”
“Fine.” I held the stack of files a little closer to my chest. “In that case, it’d be best if I don’t work from the office for the next few days.”
“I agree. In fact, I was just about to suggest it. But while I have you here, what do you think about the recording?”
“It means Knox didn’t vanish because he’d been killed. He fled. According to Cross, it’s because he was involved in illegal activity.”
“Can you prove that?”
“I’ll see what I can do. But there is a second possibility.”
Almeada folded his arms over his chest. “Don’t tell me Lucien could be lying.”
“That’s a third possibility. The second possibility is Cross helped Knox disappear.”
“Like an accomplice?”
“From what I heard and saw, it sounded like they had a falling out. They might have even thrown a few punches. Mutually assured destruction typically means both parties are involved in the same shady shit.” I let that sink in before adding, “You know what they say. The only way for two people to keep a secret is if one of them is dead.”
“Just find out who killed Knox.”
“I have a question for you. Do you think Knox’s killer set things in motion so Cross would take the fall?”
“The overlap.” Almeada stared at me. “Lucien doesn’t think they have any enemies in common. It’s probably a waste of time.”
“Let me determine that.”
Almeada smiled, despite the situation. “I’m glad to hear you’re finally onboard. What do you plan to do now?”
“Go through all of this,” I indicated the stack of files, “and figure out what’s what. It’s too late to make a trip to the bank, but I’ll do that first thing tomorrow.”
“Let me know if you need any help.”
“If I do, it won’t be from you. It’ll be from Justin. Is that okay?”
“Only ask him about the past. Don’t give him info on the present.”
“Gotcha.”
Deciding I needed to find some place neutral to think, I went to the Martin Technologies building. During the short drive, I wondered if Knox’s killer would have been willing to wait nearly a decade before pinning the crime on Lucien Cross. Perhaps setting Cross up to take the fall had been a contingency and not the main goal.
That was possible. It was also possible I was reading the entire situation wrong. Despite everything I’d been trained to believe, coincidences occasionally happened and mistakes were often made. The killer might have overlooked the key in Knox’s shoe. Perhaps, he’d even left the ring on the man’s finger on purpose to make some sort of statement. From what I’d read about Knox, whose entire life revolved around work and sports, the ring could have been left as a big screw you, but I wasn’t sure how.
As I pushed my way through the monogrammed glass doors, Martin’s head of security reached into the drawer and held out a pass. “Mr. Martin had a feeling you’d be stopping by today.” Jeffrey sent me upstairs to Martin’s office.
Since Martin was in a meeting, I settled onto the couch and spread everything out on the coffee table. My beloved knew I’d show up. He wouldn’t mind if I worked from here.
Somewhere between reviewing Cross’s notes and referencing Renner’s copy of the police report, Martin returned. He didn’t say anything, preoccupied with his own work crisis. There was a good chance he hadn’t even noticed me.
After forty-five minutes of reading and research, I dropped the files onto the table. “I can’t believe this is happening.” Resting my head in my hands, I stared down at the eight-year-old case file.
Martin looked up from his spot behind his desk. “What’s the verdict?”
“I don’t know. The files are lacking.”
“Why do you think Cross killed him?” Martin asked.
“Originally, the police believed Cross was the last person to see Knox alive. Cross went to his house the morning he disappeared, allegedly found the door unlocked and the security system disarmed, but he never reported the disturbance to the police. That raised their suspicions, along with several other factors.”
Martin stopped what he was doing and focused entirely on me. “Like what?”
“Cross had recently been in a fight.”
“With Knox?”
“Jury’s out on that one.” I wondered if that might explain the broken shower door and blood drops found at Knox’s home. “But it turns out none of that matters. Knox didn’t die that day. He died at least three weeks later. The exact TOD is yet to be determined.”
“Don’t you need to figure that out?”
“It’s on the list.” I stared at my note to check into Knox’s aliases and travel arrangements. “Maybe if I figure out how Knox slipped out of the country, I can figure out how he slipped back in, assuming Cross didn’t send a team of mercenaries to extract him.”
“What?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Unfortunately, I need to.” Martin got up from behind his desk and took a seat beside me. “What have you found so far?”
I gave him the abbreviated version of everything I’d learned today, including the conversation Cross and Knox had on the tropical island.
“Do you think Cross hired someone to kill Knox?”
“My gut says no. It’s too risky. But I don’t know for sure.”
“I trust you.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and leaned in for a kiss. “Is anything else going on? You seem off.”
Martin had enough on his plate. The last thing I wanted to do was tell him about the threat left on my windshield. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Aside from Cross getting charged, going to prison, and having his reputation take my company down with him.”
I looked away, afraid he’d see something else in my eyes. My notepad stared up at me. “Cross said Knox had been a smuggler, but his official job title was acquisitions manager. He shipped items in and out of the country all the time. Maybe he used his contacts to stow away or slip past customs.”
“Where did you say the police found Knox’s car?” Martin asked.
“At the parking garage near his office.”
“What about surveillance cameras? If Knox caught a cab to the airport, the trail might start there.”
“The police checked. A man exited the vehicle, but they couldn’t make a positive ID from the footage. After he left the garage, cameras lost sight of him. The police had no idea where he went or if that’s when Knox disappeared.” I flipped to Renner’s notes and pointed out the detective’s theory. “They thought Cross killed Knox, put the body in the trunk, dumped the body somewhere else, and then abandoned the car in the parking garage.”
“But the recording disproves that.” Martin read a few lines of Renner’s notes. His brows knit together in consternation. “All right, I’ll leave this up to you.” He climbed off the couch and grabbed his tablet. “I have a meeting. If you leave before I get back, stick a note on my desk and let me know what I should do regarding a press release.”
“I have no idea. Lucien wants his PR guys to get together with your PR guy
s to discuss things.”
“I know. They’ve been on the phone for the last thirty minutes, not like that’s going to salvage this situation.” He sighed. “My problem, not yours.” He went to the door. “I’ll see you later.”
The police had studied Knox’s phone records, but he hadn’t used his phone the day of his disappearance or ever since. His browser history hadn’t popped up anything related to travel. From the looks of it, Knox didn’t plan to leave. He simply escaped. Did he intend for his departure to be a one-way trip? Or did he always intend to return?
I skimmed his call logs and text messages for any overseas calls. But I found nothing. The last call he received had been from work the prior morning. Aside from work calls, the only person who had spoken to Knox before he disappeared was Cross.
Knox’s financials were also a dead end. He didn’t use his debit or credit card to book a flight or boat trip. The last charge on his card had been when he picked up takeout the night before.
That was it. Nothing after. His accounts contained a few thousand dollars, and since his salary was automatically deposited, his account grew while he was gone. If Knox planned to leave his life behind, why wouldn’t he take his money? The man must have been afraid he’d be tracked. Everything pointed to him faking his own death, which meant someone wanted him dead.
Since Cross had tracked him down, someone else must have too. Did the killer lure Knox back to the city using the championship ring? Again, all fingers pointed to Cross.
A cold chill traveled through me. How did the ring get from Knox’s house to his finger? Did he return home to get it? Or did the killer take it from Knox’s desk drawer? Could there be two rings?
I had to find out if it was the same ring. If so, that would limit the possibilities. However, no matter the answer, it wouldn’t remove Cross from the suspect list.
Hitting speed dial, I waited, phrasing and rephrasing the question in my head. “Tell me about Knox’s ring. Did the police ever recover it?” I asked when Justin answered the phone.
“They found it in Knox’s desk drawer when they searched his house.”