MULTIPLE MOTIVES (The Kate Huntington mystery series Book 1) (11 page)

“She’s got a point,” Liz said.

“Okay, first task, hit the case files.” Rob pushed up from his chair. He leaned down to kiss his wife as he walked past the sofa.

“Want to join us for target practice Wednesday, Liz?” Mac asked.

Liz waved in the general direction of her big blue foot and the crutches propped against the end of the sofa. “I don’t think I’m mobile enough yet to be stomping around in the woods. But I’ll take a rain check. The idea of knowing how to blow away someone who’s threatening you and yours has some appeal.”

Rob gave her another shocked look. “No matter how many years you’re married to ’em, don’t ever think you know ’em,” he muttered to Mac.

“Wouldn’t know. Never could never get a marriage to stick all that long.” Mac had been married twice, for about fifteen minutes each time.

~~~~~~~~

The afternoon sun was sinking toward the horizon as Mac drove Kate home on Wednesday. She was trying to sort out the jumble of emotions that was making her stomach churn and her head hurt.

Discouragement was definitely in there. Her target practice session hadn’t gone well. With the pistol Mac had initially given her–a .38 snub nose he’d called it–she had hit absolutely nothing. Not even the
trees
to which he’d tacked the paper targets with human outlines on them. Reconsidering, Mac had produced a long-barreled revolver that looked like something out of the Old West.

“Thirty-two. Lighter. Easier to aim. Still enough stoppin’ power,” he muttered. “Good weapon for a girl.”

Kate had been offended by his sexist remark, until she discovered she couldn’t hit anything with that gun either. After three hours of practice, she had at least been consistently hitting the tree, several feet
above
the target.

Mac’s disgusted growl,
Squeeze the damn trigger, don’t jerk it
, was still echoing in her head.

This was on top of the frustrating sessions looking through case files on Monday and Tuesday evenings. She and Rob had discovered they had more shared cases than they’d first assumed, and it was taking far too long to go over them. They’d only gotten through the first third of the alphabet.

After rehashing the details of each case, they’d only eliminated two cases where there would be no reason for anyone to hold a grudge. The compulsive spender who’d turned to shoplifting when she ran out of money and the prominent businessman caught indulging in some recreational marijuana use were both grateful when Rob had gotten them off with no jail time. Kate had provided the counseling required by the court as part of their probation. But in every other case, someone had ended up unhappy. When things get to the point where a lawyer is required, somebody is likely to be the loser.

And now she had this other issue. As they drove down York Road, she pointed to a Walgreen’s sign. “Can you pull in there? I need to get something.”

“Sure.” Mac swung his truck into the parking lot.

“Uh, what I need, it’s personal. I’ll be okay if I go in alone.”

“No way, sweet pea. Too dangerous. But I’ll stay up front. Keep an eye on the truck, while you shop.”

Inside, she quickly found what she needed and took it to the pharmacy counter in the back of the store to pay for it. She stuffed the semi-transparent bag into her purse before heading up to where Mac was standing, his gaze moving back and forth from her to his Hummer out in the parking lot.

~~~~~~~~

The doorbell rang. A shiver of fear ran through Rob’s belly as he glanced at his watch. Nine-thirty. Rather late for legitimate callers.

Lou had nudged the curtain aside on the window in the front door and was looking out. Rob peered over his shoulder.

At the sight of Kate’s pale face, he shoved Lou unceremoniously aside and yanked open the door. “Where’s Mac?”

“I asked him to wait in the truck.”

Rob pulled her inside and closed the door. “What’s the matter?”

“Where’s Liz?” Kate asked. She had a deer-in-the-headlights look on her face.

“In bed. What’s the matter?” he demanded again.

“I’m pregnant.”

Rob sat down abruptly. He landed on the overstuffed arm of the chair behind him and slid down into its seat. His mind stalled. He stared up at her for a beat, then pulled her down onto the ottoman in front of him.

Noting that Lou had made himself scarce, he asked, “This is a good thing, right?” Based on the expression on her face, he wasn’t totally sure that it was.

“It’s the most wonderful thing in the world….”

“But…?”

“I was scared enough before, now I’m terrified! Rob, this is a piece of Eddie. The last piece of him left on this planet. And someone is trying to kill me. I
have
to protect this baby!”

“How far along are you?” he asked, more to buy time than anything else. His brain was still trying to wrap itself around all this.

“About two and a half months, I think. My periods have never been all that regular.” Kate blushed a little.

He felt heat creeping up his own cheeks. There were some things opposite-sex friends didn’t discuss, no matter how close they were.

“When I missed the last two,” she said, “I just assumed it was due to stress. But then I started noticing other signs, so I bought a test kit on the way home from target practice. It was positive.”

Rob didn’t need to ask what other signs. His wife had been pregnant twice. Nausea, weight gain, mood swings–although he doubted Kate could differentiate, at this point, between hormonal mood swings and the legitimate emotional roller coaster her life had become lately.

“Any morning sickness?”

Kate shook her head. “Just a little nausea occasionally. Mostly I’m ravenous all the time.”

Rob grinned. “Of course
your
child would have a hearty appetite.”

She returned his smile but it didn’t completely make it to her eyes.

Liz’s worried voice drifted down from the upstairs bedroom. “Rob, is that Kate? Is something wrong?”

“Come on.” He stood up and pulled Kate to her feet. “Let’s tell Lizzie!”

“Yes, it’s Kate,” he called up the stairs, “and she has some news.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Rob was having trouble concentrating on the tasks that he absolutely needed to get done before he and Kate could tackle the files again. His thoughts kept wandering to their investigation. So far, they’d only identified two major suspects. In each case–one involving domestic violence and the other child abuse–he and Kate had contributed to the abuser’s incarceration. He’d given his files for those cases to Liz so she could do computer searches on the two felons.

Rob had just dragged his mind back to the document he was supposed to be reviewing when his cell phone rang. Sighing, he answered it.

“Got some info for you.” There was a note of glee in Liz’s voice.

“You’re enjoying this way too much, hon.”

A low chuckle. “Okay, first scumbag. Paul Connolly, wife beater. Arrested five years ago. With you and Kate propping up her backbone, wife refused to drop the charges. One year sentence, two years probation.”

He could hear papers rustling. “Got out after six months for good behavior. I tracked down the wife. She’s remarried now, lives in Massachusetts. Says she hasn’t heard from the ex-con, ex-husband–but no doubt still an S.O.B.–in years. Has no idea where he is.”

“Hmm, a possibility, but five years is a long time to wait for revenge,” Rob said.

“Other scumbag’s a better bet. Thomas Hunter, child abuser. Another joke of a sentence. Four years for molesting his five-year-old stepdaughter. Got out after two and a half for good behavior. What is it with this good behavior crap? If these guys knew how to behave, they wouldn’t be in jail!”

Rob grinned at his wife’s editorial on the legal system, but said nothing. Not a good idea to encourage her too much. “And?”

“Aaand, you know how these sexual abusers are supposed to register their addresses whenever they move? Well, he did, for the first year. Five months ago he disappeared and the police haven’t been able to find him.”

Rob tapped an index finger against his lips. “I seem to recall he was a wimpy little dude. Somehow I don’t see him as a killer.”

Liz snorted. “Hey, you never know what a couple years as some bruiser’s bitch might’ve done to the man’s already twisted psyche.”

He held the phone away from his ear and stared at it. His wife almost never cussed. Trying to make light of it, he said, “You may need to wash your mouth out with soap after this conversation, hon.”

“Hey, just calls ’em as I sees ’em, Big Guy.” Then her voice lost the playful edge. “Seriously, Rob, whoever’s doing this, we need to get him, and soon. He’s tearing our lives apart. The girls can’t come home. We’ve got mountains masquerading as men camped out in our living room. Can’t afford to feed them, much less pay them much longer. This has got to end!”

He sighed. “I hear you, darling. Kate and I are going to keep slogging through the files tonight.”

“And I’ll keep trying to locate these two. See ya later. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” Rob disconnected, then mumbled, “And you’re startin’ to scare me a little, Lizzie.”

~~~~~~~~

By eight-thirty that evening, Kate was done in.

She’d spent most of last night staring at the ceiling trying to digest the idea that she was pregnant. When she’d come downstairs this morning, Mac had greeted her with, “Girl, I’ve seen dishwater looked better’n you.” She hadn’t even had the energy to come up with a snappy retort.

She and Rob had now gotten through the M’s, and they’d identified a couple more serious suspects. But they’d only eliminated one more case as having no grudge potential.

“That’s half the alphabet, at least,” Rob said, sitting back in his chair. “Let’s call it a night.”

Kate leaned back in her own chair and put her feet up on the corner of his desk. She blew stray curls out of her face.
Gotta find time to get a haircut
…
Yeah, right.

 Out loud she said, “When it comes to last names, all letters are not created equal. I’ve got two file drawers of R’s and three of S’s, compared to one or less of most other letters.”

“Ugh!” was Rob’s only reply.

“Maybe instead of trying to eliminate cases, we should make three piles: strong possibilities, possibilities and unlikelies.”

“Okay, until we know what he’s been up to, Hunter goes in the strong possibilities pile. What about Connolly? Five years is a long time to hold a grudge.”

“True, but he threatened to kill his wife when he got out. Somewhere along the way, he may have switched that anger onto us for ‘putting ideas in her little head.’” She made quotation marks in the air. “That’s how these guys think. They can’t believe the woman might actually have it in her to stand up for herself.”

“He’s a pretty nasty guy,” Rob said. “It’s possible he got into trouble again and ended up back in jail.”

Kate nodded. “And he may be out now and is finally able to seek his revenge.”

“I’ll get Liz to look through the court records in nearby states.”

“She’ll be thrilled. By the way, Mac made one of his cryptic comments this morning, implying that we’re underutilizing his skills. I think he’s itching to play private detective.”

“We could send him off to locate these guys,” Rob said.

“What about Phillips? What do we tell him, and when?”

Rob leaned forward and put his elbows on his desk. “I’ve been giving that some thought. Goes against the grain for me, as an officer of the court, to keep things from the police, but I don’t think we should give him a name until we’re pretty damn sure that person is the killer. Maybe not even until we have some solid evidence. If we figure out who it is, turn the name over to Phillips and then he screws up the investigation, this bastard could go underground and we’d never know when he would surface and strike again.”

Kate shuddered at that thought. “Maybe we should go over Phillips’ head. Complain to his superiors about him.”

“I’ve been thinking about that as well,” Rob said. “If we weren’t his prime suspects, I certainly could, as the attorney of the grieving widow, object to the shoddy handling of the case. And then it might be reassigned to a different detective. But going to his boss under these circumstances would just–”

“Come across as protesting too much and would probably be dismissed,” Kate finished his sentence. She frowned, then shrugged tired shoulders.

Getting up, she headed for the door. “You gonna heft that box back down to my office for me, Mr. Macho?” He’d scolded her earlier for carrying heavy boxes in her condition.

After returning Kate’s files to her office in the counseling center, they came back out into the hall. “Hey, Lou, where are you?” Rob called out.

“Yo, Mr. F. Youse done?” echoed up the central stairway from the ground floor.

A loud metallic clang came from behind them. Kate and Rob spun around. A clattering sound echoed beyond the fire door at the end of the hall.

“To your right, Lou!” Rob yelled. “Somebody’s running down the fire stairs. Stop them!” He grabbed Kate’s hand and pulled her toward the central, open staircase. As they rushed down to the first floor, they could hear Lou’s heavy footsteps pounding in the lower hallway.

Kate took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. Her eyes darted around, looking for anything suspicious.

After a couple minutes, Lou came jogging back. “Lost him, Mr. F. He got through the exit door ’fore I got there. Pitch black outside. Couldn’t see nothin’. Did find this though.” He held up a small rubber doorstop.

“Well, that explains how he got into a locked building,” Rob said. “Must’ve stuck that in the door earlier today to keep it ajar. Those stairwell exit doors lock automatically from the outside so the guard may not bother to check them when he locks up.”

He waved off the small group of the law firm staff who’d been working late and were now gathered at the top of the stairs.

All of them now hypervigilant, Lou and Rob escorted Kate out to her car. She noticed they waited until she was pulling out of the parking lot, Skip’s Explorer trailing behind, before they left.