It's Murder, My Son (A Mac Faraday Mystery) (22 page)

BOOK: It's Murder, My Son (A Mac Faraday Mystery)
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After Francine reported that her computer would turn on, Archie assured her that she would be able to sweep the virus from her hard drive and could recommend a better firewall for her system. “I wonder if your hacker is the same one that’s been trying to get a worm into my system,” Archie observed. “My firewall has been working overtime lately.”

Noting that recently another neighbor’s computer had crashed, Francine declared the mystery a case for Mickey Forsythe. “And when he’s not tracking down hackers and murderers, maybe he can squeeze in identifying the Point’s petty thief.”

“Has our thief struck again?”

“Just now. I went for a dip in the lake and when I came back my robe was gone. It’s at least five years old. Why would someone steal an old bathrobe? I liked that robe. I had it all broken in. Robin would have caught him by now.”

Archie said, “If our petty thief is a kleptomaniac, which I think he is, he’s bound to eventually blow his cover or at least get help.”

“Couldn’t he have gotten help before stealing my robe?” After taking a sip of her wine, Francine asked, “Has Mac tracked down Katrina’s killer yet?”

Archie smiled slyly. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

“I have to tell you that I couldn’t believe it when I heard David was a suspect,” Francine said. “The ladies at the Hair Hut asked me if I’d seen him here looking suspicious and I told them no. From what I saw, David was trying to help her. It isn’t like there weren’t enough other people wanting to break her pretty neck.” She refilled her glass. “Oh, Gordon Hardwick and Katrina used to get into terrible screaming matches. They called Gnarly a rapist for knocking up their poodle and accused him of getting into their garbage.” She laughed. “Gnarly didn’t do it. Everyone who lives on Deep Creek knows that the bears like garbage. That’s why we get dumpsters. But the Hardwicks refused to get a dumpster. They decided instead to shell out four times more money for a security camera to catch Gnarly.” She smirked. “What did they get? Tape of two bears getting into their garbage. But did they ever admit they were wrong about Gnarly? No.”

Archie said, “Too bad their camera was broken the night of the murder. They could have recorded Katrina’s killer.”

“They’re lying about that camera being broken,” Francine stated with certainty. “They got the bears on film five weeks ago—after Katrina’s murder. They lied to the police about their camera because they don’t want to do anything to help catch her killer. That would be decent of them and they’d rather burn in hell than do anything decent.”

“Did the ladies at the Hair Hut recall Katrina getting into screaming matches with anyone else besides Gordon Hardwick?” Archie asked.

The beauty shop was a fountain of information about goings-on along the Point. Through Francine, Robin could find out what the ladies at the beauty shop were talking about without setting foot in the shop herself.

“Sophia Hainsworth-Turner, for one.”

“What about?”

“I never found out what it was about.” Francine cocked her head at Archie when she saw that she had missed this piece of information. “One day, I was lying out on the dock and heard a cat fight. Katrina and Miss Calm-Cool-and-Collected herself were screaming at each other. It almost turned physical.”

Recalling the scene she had witnessed at the Inn, Archie said, “Sophia does have a temper.”

“That’s for sure. Sophia isn’t all that she seems to be.” Francine smirked. “Did you know that she had a police record? She was arrested for assault and attempted murder. She copped a plea in exchange for anger management counseling.”

“From what I’ve seen, it’s done a lot of good,” Archie said with a note of sarcasm. “How do you even know this?”

The neighbor answered, “One of the girls had read it in one of those gossip magazines. It came out after Sophia got that big contract with the cosmetic company. They even had a picture of her mug shot. She looks horrible without makeup.” Francine recounted, “Sophia was making a name for herself as a model when her boyfriend—Do you remember that guy who starred in that television series about vampire hunters? The one with the curly blond hair? He took his shirt off at least once in every episode?”

Archie recalled the hunky actor.

Francine continued, “They dated for a while, but then he dumped Sophia for that actress that plays the bitchie lawyer in one of those legal shows. The blond that wears her skirts up to here.” She pointed at her neck. “The new girlfriend started getting threatening phone calls. Her house and car got broken into and trashed.”

“Sounds familiar.” Archie noted that the incidents Francine listed sounded similar to the harassment Katrina had suffered in the months before her murder.

“One night, Sophia broke in and attacked her. The boyfriend saved her.” While clinking her wine glass against her host’s, Francine finished, “And that, Ms. Monday, is the skeleton in Ms. Sophia Hainsworth-Turner’s closet.” 

“And what a scary skeleton it is indeed,” Archie said.

 

 

 

Chapter Eleven

 

“How long will this take?”

Through the crack of the penthouse door, a blue eyeball trimmed in long lashes threatened not to allow Mac and David to enter. They were intruding on Rachel Adams-Singleton’s evening out with her new husband.

When she hesitated to keep their appointment, Mac considered being equally rude by informing her that her groom had set the time. Instead, he promised that they would only take a few minutes of their time.

She shut the door. A few minutes later, she permitted them entrance to the top floor penthouse in Crystal City, Virginia. The high-rise condos provided a view of the Potomac River and the planes taking off and landing at Reagan National Airport.

Chad Singleton had wasted no time on mourning since his first wife’s death had left him with a forty million dollar estate. Not only did he remarry and quit his job as an associate at the law firm where he had met Katrina, but he also traded up from Niles Holt’s brownstone in Georgetown.

Tall and model slim, his trophy wife’s red hair fell to her shoulders. Her pale skin made her look like a porcelain doll. Her turquoise dress hugged every curve of her body on its way down to her shapely legs.

She escorted them into the living room and ordered them to wait while she fetched her husband. Mac was admiring the view of the Washington Monument on the other side of the Potomac River when their host made his entrance.

“Good evening, gentlemen.” Shorter than Mac imagined, Chad Singleton had the sleek build of a cat. The color of the shirt he wore under his suit matched his wife’s dress. “You’re lucky you got here when you did,” he told them. “My bride and I were about to go out for the evening. We’ve got reservations at Michel Richard Citronelle,” he said as if the name of the restaurant meant something to both of his guests. While it did to Mac, it meant nothing to David.

Chad motioned to the sofa next to where David sat and ordered Mac in a tone disguised as congeniality, “Do sit down.”

“No, thanks. I’d rather stand,” Mac replied.

Chad directed Rachel into the recliner across from David and stood with his hand on her bare shoulder. “As I told you on the phone, I’m not obligated to speak to either of you.”

“And I thank you for taking the time to see us,” Mac said.

“What do you want to know?”

Mac began. “What did Katrina tell you about this man tormenting her?”

“That he was Lee Dorcas.” Chad let out a chuckle. “The police insisted it wasn’t him. She said he looked like him. He had the dreadlocks and beard and wore an army jacket. To tell you the truth, I think you guys are chasing your own tails. You found Dorcas’s body in Spencer, didn’t you? He blew his brains out after killing Katrina. Face it. You guys blew it. You would have saved her if you had locked Dorcas up after he killed Niles Holt.”

Grasping her husband’s fingers, Rachel interjected, “We’re lucky he didn’t decide to do in Chad, too.”

David said, “It’s hard to disprove an alibi when there are dozens of witnesses swearing that the suspect was hundreds of miles away someplace else.”

“Have you ever heard of a plane?” Chad scoffed.

Before David could respond, Mac asked, “Did you ever see Lee Dorcas threaten Katrina?”

“Everyone at Ingram and Henderson saw it,” Chad said with a nod of his head. “I’m surprised he didn’t shoot her then. Katrina tried to calm him down, but he wouldn’t have it. Security finally showed up and hauled his ass out of the building.”

“What was he ranting about?” Mac asked.

“He insisted Katrina stole his grandmother’s money.”

“Had she?” Mac ignored David’s glare at the suggestion.

Chad’s expression became more smug when he replied, “I wouldn’t know any of the details pertaining to how Katrina conducted her accounts. She told me that the old lady spent it.”

Mac suppressed a grin. He could see that Chad had all the slimy qualities it took to be a lawyer. He had his suspicions about his late wife, but he knew better than to own up to them. It was to his legal advantage to claim that he had been misled.

Mac resumed the interview by asking, “That day Dorcas came to see Katrina at the law firm, did he threaten her?”

“He threatened to kill her. And now she’s dead and you have his body with a self-inflicted gunshot wound. As far as I’m concerned this case is closed.”

“The gunshot wound was not self-inflicted,” David told him. “That’s why the case is still open.”

Mac asked, “Did you hear Dorcas threaten to kill Niles Holt?”

Chad shook his head. “Katrina told me he threatened to do that on her wedding day. He showed up in her dressing room.”

“When did she tell you that?”

Chad sucked in a deep breath before shrugging his shoulders. “I don’t remember.”

“Was it before or after Niles died?” Mac inquired.

“After. She told me after we started seeing each other. I do remember that.”

David wondered, “If Dorcas had killed Katrina’s first husband, weren’t you concerned about becoming her second husband, especially when he was still terrorizing her?”

A questioning look crossed his face at the suggestion that marrying Katrina could have put his life in danger. Finally, Chad replied, “I figured Dorcas considered them even.”

 “Suppose he wasn’t the one harassing her,” Mac suggested. “Did Katrina have any idea who else it could have been and why he had targeted her?”

“Why do most crazies target anyone? They’re nuts.”

“Did you ever see him?” Mac asked.

“Never. Like I said, he never showed up when I was around.”

David wanted to know, “If he never showed up when you were around, why didn’t you stay with her? As her husband, you should have protected her.”

“Because I had to be here in the city. Katrina chose to stay at Deep Creek. She was courting the county commission to change the zoning on some land Niles owned,” Chad explained. “She was afraid that if she didn’t babysit it that the zoning would fall through. It did as soon as she was dead.”

“Really?” Mac responded to the new information. “What happened to the land?”

Chad smirked. “I sold it for a nice profit. Now it’s someone else’s headache.” He stroked his new wife’s shoulder. “Since I married Rachel, I don’t want to spend as much time wheeling and dealing the way Katrina liked to. She wanted the power that comes with money. I intend to enjoy the luxuries it affords.”

With his eyes on Rachel, David asked, “How long have you two been seeing each other?”

BOOK: It's Murder, My Son (A Mac Faraday Mystery)
12.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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