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Authors: Maris Soule

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BOOK: A Killer Past
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T
HE
CHILLY
AIR
and darkness outside Mary’s kitchen window were in sharp contrast to the warmth and festive atmosphere inside. For hours, David and she had been sharing stories from their pasts. Now the aroma of honey-glazed chicken thighs baking in the oven, along with red potatoes, and fresh green beans cooking on the stove, filled the entire house. David had removed his suit coat and placed it on the empty chair next to him, but he hadn’t taken off his shoulder holster or removed the Glock it held.

Sometime around four o’clock, their mugs of coffee and tea had been replaced with glasses of wine. ‘It’s five o’clock somewhere,’ Mary had said as she poured a Syrah for David and a Chardonnay for herself.

By six o’clock, both of their glasses had been refilled twice, and Mary knew she needed to eat soon or she’d be flat on her face. ‘Remember the winery in Tuscany,’ she said with a giggle, ‘when I had to hide in that vat of grapes?’

David nodded and chuckled. ‘And came out with grape stains on your hands and feet.’

‘And clothes,’ she reminded him. ‘I never could get that dress clean. Had to toss it.’

‘I also remember you almost fell on your keister when you kicked the gun out of Mario Bertoloni’s hand.’

‘Oh, yes, Mario. What an ass he was.’ She laughed at the
memory. ‘What a giant. I doubt I could get my foot that high again.’

Wondering if she could, Mary stood and moved over to the counter. Holding onto the edge, she kicked up her leg, karate style. The top edge of her shoe actually reached shoulder height before her loafer went flying off her foot and crashed onto the table, knocking over her wine glass and the Chardonnay she hadn’t finished.

‘Oops.’ She laughed and did a one-shoe hobble over to grab a towel from next to the sink. ‘Glad it was my wine and not the red that spilled.’

David had already straightened her glass, and Mary quickly sopped up the liquid on the table and floor.

‘You’re still pretty limber,’ he said and refilled her glass from the bottle of Chardonnay.

‘For an old lady, you mean?’ She tossed the towel back onto the counter and retrieved her loafer.

‘I read the report on those two boys you wiped out. You haven’t lost it.’

Eyebrows raised, she looked at him. ‘How’d you see that report?’

‘We have our ways. Remember?’

‘And reading that report you knew it was me?’

‘Your Sergeant Rossini started checking into your background right after that incident. It didn’t take much to make the connection.’

‘That night I was surprised by how much I did remember. It’s been a long time.’

‘That article in the paper said you exercise regularly.’

‘Yes, but I haven’t taken any martial arts classes other than tai chi, since—’ The sound of a key in her front door stopped Mary. Only two people had keys to her house: Ella and her son, Robby.

She wasn’t surprised when the front door opened and a male voice called out, ‘Mother?’

‘In the kitchen, dear,’ she called back. ‘Come on in. I have company.’

David stood and quickly slipped his jacket back on, covering his shoulder holster and gun. By the time Robby entered the kitchen, David was standing beside her. Mary was proud of her son and his financial success, but she smiled at the contrast between the two men. David dwarfed her son, both in size and presence.

When she’d been younger, she’d wondered what it would be like to have David’s child. He’d been twenty-two and she’d been twenty-eight when the agency paired them as a team. David had been pure masculine virility, and her biological clock had started ticking. But working together they’d decided it would be safer to avoid any romantic entanglements. So she’d forced herself to think of him as the younger brother she’d never had, and she supposed he saw her as the older sister.

‘Robby, I’d like you to meet David Burrows, a friend from a long, long time ago,’ she said, amused by the stunned look on her son’s face. ‘David, this is my son, Robert Harrington.’

David nodded and extended his hand. ‘Do you go by Robby or Robert?’

‘Mom calls me Robby,’ her son said, hesitating a moment before shaking David’s hand. ‘My wife calls me Robert. So you knew my mother when?’

‘Back when I was traveling in Europe,’ Mary said, hoping David would let her lead the conversation.

David nodded. ‘She became like my big sister. Told me where the best eating places were, cheapest pensions, and helped me figure out currency exchanges.’ He looked at her. ‘That’s easier now with so many countries using the euro.’

‘Every so often our paths would cross,’ she said, which was the truth. Even though they’d only worked a few assignments together, she’d helped with his training, and their paths had crossed other times.

‘And what brings you to Rivershore?’ Robby asked, the question loaded with curiosity.

‘Your mother, of course.’ David winked at her. ‘I saw her picture in the paper a few weeks ago, and when business took me to Chicago, I knew I had to drive over here and say hello.’

‘So you’re not staying long.’

It was a statement, not a question. Or maybe it was an order. Mary frowned at her son. ‘Robby, that’s none of your business.’

‘It’s …’ He glared at David, then looked at her. ‘If Dad were alive …’

‘He’d be sharing a glass of wine with David and me, but since
he’s not …’ She wasn’t about to make excuses to her son. ‘Was there a reason you stopped by? Would you like a glass of wine? Dinner?’

Robby looked at the two glasses and two nearly empty bottles of wine on the table, then back at her. ‘Are you drunk, Mother?’

‘No.’ Though she had a feeling her cheeks were flushed, and she wished she could sit down again.

‘I stopped by,’ Robby said, watching her closely, ‘because I heard the police were here last night.’

‘Oh.’ She smiled, hoping she looked like someone who didn’t care. ‘How did you hear that?’

‘Ella called me today. She said you were robbed.’ He glanced into the living room where her TV sat in its usual spot. ‘What did they get?’

‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Nothing at all. But they did come in through the garage door. You know the one you keep saying you’re going to fix. The one that won’t open using the remote and won’t latch properly even when it’s pushed down.’

If he got her message, he ignored it. ‘But you’re all right?’

‘I’m fine. I nailed the garage door shut today.’

‘OK, OK. I’ll fix it this weekend.’ He glanced at the stairway and up to where his bedroom used to be. ‘You’re sure they took nothing?’

‘Nothing as far as I can tell.’ Or as far as she was going to tell. ‘The police think the person or persons who broke in probably fled when they heard people coming back from the meeting last night.’

Robby shook his head. ‘You should have called me, Mom.’

‘And what would you have done? Told me to call the police. Right?’

‘Yes, but …’ He sighed in frustration. ‘I keep telling you, Mom, you shouldn’t be living here alone. Who knows what could happen to you.’

The way he looked directly at David, Mary was sure her son was including David in the possibility of something bad happening to her. ‘I’m fine,’ she insisted. ‘And I’m not moving into a nursing home.’

‘Shoreside isn’t a nursing home. If you moved there …’

‘I know, I know,’ she interrupted. ‘I’d have all the comforts of
home, I’d be closer to you and Clare, and when I do become feeble, everything would be in place for them to plop me into their nursing facility.’

‘You make it sound like a death sentence.’

‘Isn’t it?’ To her it certainly sounded like one. She’d visited residents at Shoreside. Seen the old ladies sitting around with their blank stares and drool dribbling down their chins. A person had no privacy there. They ate in a community dining room. The rooms were right next to each other, and the walls were so thin you could hear your neighbor’s TV.

‘I’m not moving, and that’s that.’ She looked toward her front door. ‘If you’re not staying for dinner, you’d better head home. You know how Clare doesn’t like you coming home late.’

Her son’s nostrils flared, and Mary knew she’d hit a nerve. As she’d intended. In a way, he was in his own prison.

Robby didn’t move. Instead he turned to David. ‘It’s been nice meeting you. I assume you’re driving back to Chicago tonight. You’ll probably want to leave soon. Traffic can be a bear.’

Mary tried not to smile when David said, ‘Oh, I’m not leaving. Not tonight, at least. Your mother and I have a lot of catching-up to do.’

‘Lots of great memories to share,’ she said, and motioned toward the front door. ‘Always good to see you, Robby. Thanks for your concern, and say hi to Clare and Shannon.’

Her son didn’t move, his gaze switching from David to her and then back to David. ‘But…?’ He let the word hang in the air until he finally gave a deep sigh. ‘If you’re sure.’

‘I’m sure,’ she said, though she wasn’t sure of what.

‘Then I’ll see you this weekend … when I fix the garage door.’ He started for the front door, then paused and looked back. ‘Don’t be surprised if Shannon shows up. She’s still sure she can talk you into a trip to Europe. At least now she’s talking about simply going in the summer.’

‘She’s always welcome, and she can talk all she’d like, but I don’t think I want to go back to Europe.’ She glanced at David and grinned. ‘Some things simply shouldn’t be repeated. Right, David?’

J
ACK
WAS
ON
his third beer when Officer Jennifer Mendoza came into the Shores. She paused for a moment, then smiled and headed his way, taking the stool next to him at the bar. ‘Coffee,’ she ordered, then turned to Jack. ‘I thought I’d find you here.’

What could he say? He was predictable, if nothing else.

‘I have a cousin,’ she went on, not waiting for a response. ‘Actually a second cousin. His mother has been ill, so my mother and I stopped by their place this afternoon with a casserole for their dinner. Carlos is seventeen, a senior at Rivershore High. He’s told me he wants to go into law enforcement or maybe be a lawyer, so he’s always asking me questions about my job. Today it was the other way around. While my mother talked to his mother, Carlos took me out back.

‘He said he was in the school john the other day and overheard some Latinos talking about teaching an old lady a lesson. He said they didn’t mention any names, but one said he knew where she lived. Carlos also heard them complaining about that drug bust Stewart made a couple weeks ago. I guess they’d been planning on using that cocaine to pay for some guns they’ve ordered.’

The bit about the guns interested Jack. ‘Did your cousin say when they’re getting these guns?’

‘No. I asked, but he didn’t know. He said he’d keep his ears open.’

‘I hope you told him not to be too obvious.’ Jack liked the idea that her cousin was interested in a career in law enforcement, but he didn’t want the boy putting his life in danger.

‘I told him.’ She nodded a thank-you when the barkeeper delivered her coffee. ‘Carlos is smart. He knows when to keep his mouth shut.’

Jack waited until Jennifer had her first sip of coffee. Although it had been years ago, he still remembered working the graveyard shift. He’d lived on coffee back then.

He glanced down at his beer.

Now it seemed he lived on beer and Scotch. If he wasn’t careful, he’d turn into an alki.

He pushed his glass away.

‘Another one?’ the bartender asked.

Jack shook his head and turned to Jennifer. ‘Tell me about that B and E call you answered on Maple last night.’

‘What do you want to know?’

‘Anything seem suspicious to you?’

She smiled. ‘Like why wasn’t anything taken? Yeah, I wondered what was up, especially since there were no signs of forced entry, other than with the garage door. The old lady … Mrs Harrington … she wasn’t even that upset, other than she wouldn’t go down into the basement. She said she’d once had a bad experience in a basement, and the way she was acting, I believed her.’

‘I understand she refused to be fingerprinted.’

‘Yeah, that was weird, too, but we really couldn’t force her to, especially since we didn’t find any fingerprints on the doorknobs.’

‘None at all?’

‘Not one.’ She cocked her head toward Jack. ‘So what do you think? Is the woman loco? Did she pry that door up herself?’

If last night’s incident had been the first time Jack had heard about Mary Harrington, he might have said yes, but over the weeks, he’d seen too many facets of the woman to consider her daft. ‘You want my opinion?’ he said. ‘I think that woman is sharper than either of us. Something went down last night, something she’s not telling us.’

Something he wanted to know.

Jack pushed himself off his bar stool, grabbed his change from the counter – leaving a tip for the bartender – and gave Jennifer’s shoulder a pat. ‘I understand you’re going solo tonight. Take care, and thanks for letting me know what your cousin overheard. Let me know if you hear anything more.’

He knew he should go home, but home was an empty, lonely place. Once in his car, Jack drove toward the west side of town. Slowly he cruised down Archer Street, paying particular attention to the area where the two boys were injured. As far as Jack could tell, the abandoned houses were empty and all was calm in the
occupied homes. Of course, one never knew what went on behind closed doors. There could be a domestic fight occurring in one, incest in another, a robbery being planned in yet another.

From Archer Street, he traveled along Oak Street. Here there were fewer houses for sale and none that looked abandoned. Two teenaged boys were on the sidewalk in front of one house, talking. They turned and waved as he passed. He blinked his headlights and drove on.

He saw the white Impala the moment he turned onto Maple Street, still parked in the same place. He’d bet Ella Williams was watching it, waiting for the driver to leave so she could report the departure time to the police.

So Agent David Burrows was still with Mary Harrington. Jack glanced at the clock on his dash. 9.05. Was the man going to spend the night?

That’s none of your business
, he told himself. If Mary Harrington wanted to spend the night with Burrows, why should it matter to him? She was certainly an attractive woman for her age, and Burrows was good-looking. Younger than her, Jack figured, but not all that much younger. The guy dressed well. Drove one of the more expensive rental cars.

And is scary as hell
, he silently added, still confused by his gut reaction to the man.

It was the guy’s eyes – the look he’d given Jack – along with the guy’s body language. Agent David Burrows reminded Jack of a cobra, poised and ready to strike. Coiled energy. Danger.

Jack gave himself a shake.

‘You’re an idiot,’ he said aloud as he drove closer to Mary Harrington’s house. Burrows was no cobra, Mrs Harrington obviously knew him, and there was no reason to suspect the man was a killer.

He stopped pondering his reaction as a sporty red Ford Fusion zipped past him, going at least ten miles over the speed limit. Jack considered going after the car and giving the driver a speeding ticket, then changed his mind when he saw the right-turn blinker come on and the car pull onto the driveway next to Mary Harrington’s parked car.

He pulled his own car over to the curb and watched as a willowy blonde got out of the Fusion and headed for Mary Harrington’s front door.

And then there were three
, Jack thought and headed for home.

 

By nine o’clock, dinner had been eaten and the dishes stacked in the dishwasher or washed. David had rolled up his shirtsleeves and dried. Cups of coffee had once again appeared, replacing the glasses of wine. Mary chose decaf. ‘Otherwise I’ll be up all night,’ she told David. ‘Caffeine does that to me.’

‘I should go get a room at the motel,’ David said, but he made no move to put on his jacket or get up to leave.

‘Why spend money on a motel room?’ she said. ‘Stay here.’

‘Are you suggesting something?’ he asked, a slight lift to his eyebrows.

Mary wasn’t sure what she was suggesting. Because of Harry’s cancer and death, she hadn’t had sex for years, wasn’t sure she could still please a man like David. Maybe she was in good physical condition, but her hours in the gym hadn’t stopped the pull of gravity and the signs of age. No more pert breasts, tight butt, or flat stomach. Her skin was wrinkled and marred with age spots. ‘I don’t know, I …’

The sound of the doorbell cut off her reply. She frowned when she looked at the clock on the wall. ‘Now what?’ she asked, and headed for the front door.

Although it was dark out, her living-room drapes were open, and the moon provided enough light for her to see Shannon’s red Fusion parked next to her car. She glanced back into the kitchen. David had rolled down his shirtsleeves and was slipping on his jacket. She chuckled. Either she went without company for weeks, or everyone showed up.

‘And to what do I owe this late-night visit?’ she asked as soon as she’d opened the front door.

Shannon stepped inside and glanced around. ‘Is he still here?’ she whispered.

‘If you mean my friend David, yes, he’s still here.’

Shannon grimaced. ‘Dad sent me,’ she said, still whispering.

‘Come on in. Let me introduce you.’ Mary walked away from her granddaughter, leaving her to close the door. David stood by the table, and Mary stopped by his side. ‘David, I’d like you to meet my favorite granddaughter, Shannon Harrington. Shannon, this is a friend of mine from years ago. David Burrows.’

‘Your only granddaughter,’ Shannon said, coming into the kitchen. She extended her hand. ‘Mr Burrows.’

‘Call me David,’ he said and engulfed her small hand in his. ‘You remind me of your grandmother. I always thought she was one of the most beautiful women alive.’

Shannon looked at her, and Mary knew her granddaughter was trying to visualize her as a younger woman with blonde – not white – hair, and smooth, non-wrinkled skin.

He went on. ‘She’s still beautiful, and so are you.’

‘Yeah, uh well.’ Shannon pulled her hand free from his grasp. ‘Thank you.’

‘Is that your pin she’s wearing?’ David asked, pointing at the pin on Shannon’s coat.

Mary nodded. ‘I gave it to her for her birthday. I hope you don’t mind.’

‘No, of course not,’ he said, but his frown indicated otherwise.

‘This is the man who gave you the pin?’

Shannon looked at David, and then at Mary, and Mary could imagine the thoughts running through her granddaughter’s head. ‘We were …’ She hesitated. ‘Good friends.’

David chuckled. ‘You’ve heard about Pandora and her box of evil. Your grandmother was the wicked one.’

‘I was not,’ Mary said, searching for something to say that would get them off the subject of Pandora before one of them said too much.

It was Shannon who changed the subject. ‘Grandma,’ she said, clearing her throat. ‘Can we talk?’

‘Sure.’ Mary wondered what her son wanted her to say to Shannon that she hadn’t already told the girl.

‘Privately.’ Shannon’s gaze shifted to a door off the living room. ‘Maybe in your bedroom. There’s ah, there’s … there’s something I need to discuss with you.’

‘If it’s about that trip to Europe …’

‘No… . No, something else.’ She took Mary’s hand and gave a tug.

‘I’ll be right back,’ Mary told David as she allowed her granddaughter to lead her to her bedroom.

As soon as they were in the room, Shannon closed the door. ‘Grandma, are you sleeping with him?’

Not yet
, Mary wanted to say, wondering if David and she would have ended up in bed if Shannon hadn’t arrived. Or if they still might. What she managed was, ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business.’

‘Dad said he was good-looking. My god, Grandma, he’s boss.’

‘Boss?’

‘Studly. I mean, he’s old, but he’s …’ Shannon grinned. ‘Studly.’

Mary laughed, but the description did fit the man. ‘So does that mean you approve?’

‘No.’ Shannon shook her head. ‘I mean …’ She blew out a breath. ‘Jeez, you’re my grandmother.’

‘Meaning I shouldn’t be having sex.’

‘We shouldn’t even be talking about it.’

Mary agreed. ‘Shannon, David and I are friends. I think what we do … or don’t do, should be between us.’

‘Dad’s worried about you.’

‘I know.’ Mary remembered her son’s reaction.

‘He thinks this guy is after your money.’

‘Now, that’s funny.’ Or maybe it wasn’t. Mary hated to think her son was afraid she’d be foolish enough to be taken in by a man. ‘Honey, David is not after my money. He saw that article about me and thought it would be nice to reconnect, especially since a conference he’s attending in Chicago put him closer to Rivershore.’

‘So he hasn’t asked for any money?’ Shannon didn’t look convinced. ‘Hasn’t told you about an investment that will make you lots of money?’

‘No, all he’s told me is someone else I knew years ago, someone I really don’t want to see again, is looking for me.’

‘Eww.’ Shannon frowned. ‘That sounds bad.’

‘Hopefully, it won’t be.’ Mary put her hand on the doorknob.
‘Now, if I’m not mistaken, you have school tomorrow. So you need to head home.’

‘And leave you two alone. Right?’ Shannon didn’t move. ‘Promise me, if he asks for money, don’t give him any.’

‘I promise,’ Mary said, remembering how much money she’d earned during her years with the agency. Unless David had made some bad investments, he wouldn’t need to ask anyone for money, now or ever.

‘Well then, I guess …’

Mary opened the bedroom door, and Shannon started for the living room. From her position behind her granddaughter, Mary could see David seated at the kitchen table, turning his coffee mug around in his hands. She also could hear a vehicle coming down the street, its muffler so loud it sounded like a jet engine.

Later she would wonder what made her clamp a hand on Shannon’s shoulder, stopping her granddaughter from stepping into the living room.

‘What?’ Shannon started to ask as the sound of squealing tires turned into the scraping crunch of metal on metal.

Two blinding bright lights poured into the living room, then moved away, and Mary caught her first glimpse of the truck outside her house. It had changed its collision course, but was on her lawn. She saw an arm snake out of the passenger-side window and throw something. The glow of a flame came toward the front window, and Mary pushed Shannon to the floor.

She used her own body to shield her granddaughter as a thunk against her plate-glass window was followed by the sound of a bottle breaking, then an explosive bang.

For a second she didn’t move, and then Mary pushed herself back on her haunches and stared at the window. Flames leapt out of the bushes that bordered the front of the house.

She could hear the truck as it roared off into the night, but she didn’t have a chance to move as another set of lights lit up the living room.

‘Stay down,’ David yelled from the kitchen.

Mary obeyed, again covering Shannon as she heard another thunk, followed by another explosion.

‘What’s happening?’ Shannon cried out as Mary moved off her granddaughter’s back.

‘We’re being attacked,’ she said and crawled over to the phone by her bed. Quickly she punched in 911.

BOOK: A Killer Past
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