MULTIPLE MOTIVES (The Kate Huntington mystery series Book 1) (24 page)

“I’ll check the rest of the house,” Ben said. Kate gave him a grateful smile.

Rob’s partner sat down on the sofa next to Liz and patted her hand. “Bill and I are horrified by this, Liz. If there’s anything we can do for you, let us know.”

Liz nodded mutely.

Kate sat down in the recliner Ben had vacated. “Have you talked to the police, John? Do they have any leads?”

Bennett grimaced.

Apparently he’s talked to Phillips.

“Yes, I’ve met with the detective in charge and I’m…” he glanced sideways at Liz, “…a little concerned.”

“You don’t have to mince words with us,” Liz said. “We’ve been dealing with the man for weeks. He’s a horse’s patoot.”

“Don’t hold back now, Liz,” Bennett gently teased his partner’s wife. “Tell us how you really feel.”

Liz managed a tiny smile.

“Okay, make that a lot concerned,” Bennett said, his face now grim. “I know Dave Phillips, slightly at least. His son and my grandson are on the same Little League team. He and the boy’s mother are divorced but he never misses a game. He’s always struck me as a devoted father. So I was a bit surprised this morning when he interviewed me about Rob’s disappearance. He didn’t come across as very competent. Seemed to just be going through the motions.”

“Did he say anything about his pet theory regarding my husband’s death?” Kate asked.

“No.”

She didn’t even try to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “He thinks Rob and I are lovers and Liz’s hit-and-run was our attempt to get rid of her, but we were more successful with….” She turned her head away as tears sprang into her eyes.

John Bennett leaned forward to pat her hand, resting on her knee. “Ah, now the things Bill was spluttering about after his interview with Phillips make more sense. Apparently the detective was a bit more careful with what he said to me, maybe because we’re acquaintances. But Bill said he was implying that Rob might have disappeared on purpose. Phillips told Bill to call him immediately if Rob contacted us to send him money.”

Kate had also met Bill Stockton, the law firm’s most senior partner, at social gatherings at the Franklins. He was in his mid-seventies and very old-fashioned, with a strong sense of honor. The insinuation that his law partner was an adulterer and murderer who’d skipped town would have made him absolutely apoplectic.

“Is there anything we can do to get Phillips pulled from the case, John?” she asked.

“I was giving that some thought on the way over here. I’m a defense attorney so the police don’t exactly see me as their friend, but still I am not without influence in this town. I think I’ll find out who his superior officer is and have a little chat with him, or her.”

“That would be extremely helpful.” Kate smiled at him.

“I just had another thought,” Bennett said. “One of the few times Phillips and I have ever talked at any length was at one of the kids’ games. We were standing on the sidelines during a lull in the action and somehow he got to talking about his divorce. Seemed really bitter toward his wife, and her lawyer. I opted not to tell him that I was a lawyer myself. He was rather shocked when he walked into my office this morning and recognized me.”

“That would explain a lot,” Kate said.

The phone rang. She answered it and went through her spiel. She’d no sooner returned it to its base then it rang again.

Bennett reached over and snatched it up. He listened just long enough to determine it was a reporter and then snapped, “Leave these poor people alone, you bloodsucker.” He punched the end button. “I miss the good old days when you could bang a receiver down in someone’s ear.”

“Funny,” Kate said, “I had that same thought the first time I talked to Phillips.”

Bennett let out a short chuckle.

“John, do you think there’s any way we can use the media coverage,” Liz asked, “to help us find out what’s happened to Rob?”

He sat back and gave that some thought. “Maybe. Let me talk to Phillips’ supervisor first and see where that gets us. But if the police aren’t going to work all that hard to track Rob down, maybe we could set up a hotline at the office and ask the public to call in if they know anything.”

Liz’s face brightened some. “That would be great.”

Bennett patted her hand again and stood up. “I’ll let you know what I find out.”

“Thanks for coming by, John.”

“I’ll see you out.” Kate got up and followed Bennett to the door. “John,” she said quietly, once they were there, “I’m a little concerned about the media coverage. Whoever’s doing this has made several attempts against me since Eddie’s death. We think they kidnapped Rob to use him as bait to get to me.” She dropped her voice even lower. “I’m afraid if the press makes too much noise about this, it may spook the killer and he’ll decide to get rid of Rob and run.”

“Dear God, I hadn’t thought of that!” Bennett hooked the curtain aside with a pudgy finger and looked out at the small crowd of reporters on the sidewalk. “I think I’ll have a little press conference here, as Liz’s lawyer, and see if I can get these clowns to go away.”

“How are you going to do that?” Kate asked.

“Tell them I’ll keep them informed if, and only if, they go away and leave Liz alone. I’ll get their names and contact information. Then if we decide to do the hotline, I’ll be able to get in touch with them.”

“Good idea.” Kate took his hand. “Thank you so much, John.”

After John Bennett’s impromptu press conference, the calls from reporters tapered off.

A little before one o’clock, the phone rang for the first time in almost an hour. It was Bennett. “I just got back from meeting with a Lieutenant Cody in the homicide division,” he told Kate.

“What’d he say?”

“Not much. He listened to my complaints about how Phillips has been handling the case, both your husband’s death and now Rob’s disappearance. Then he said he’d look into it.”

“Did it seem like he was taking you seriously?”

“Hard to tell. He was pretty stone-faced. Cops don’t like it when you complain about their brothers in blue. But my gut sense is that he’s a good cop and he’ll at least be keeping a closer eye on what Phillips is doing.”

“Thanks, John.” She disconnected and repeated the conversation to Liz.

Shortly after two, the phone rang again. This time it was Rose. She reported that she was sitting on a bench across the park from Dan. “No luck so far.”

Kate told her about John Bennett’s hotline idea and her own concerns about the media coverage.

“Worth keeping in mind, but I’m with you. It could spook the perp,” Rose said. “I think we’re going to move our operation around to the street behind your building. See if any of the people who come and go there on a regular basis have seen anything in the back parking lot that might be helpful.”

Kate agreed with that plan.

~~~~~~~~

They continued Operation Bait and Switch all afternoon, back and forth between the crowded sidewalks on either side of the building, with periodic stops in the park.

At six, when the evening rush hour of pedestrians was thinning, Rose strolled nonchalantly toward Dan’s bench. She watched him out of her peripheral vision. He genuinely looked tired and depressed now.

Without breaking her stride or looking directly at him, she whispered, “You want to keep going?”

“Aye, lass,” he said softly.

As she strolled on, she passed Skip coming the other way, hands in his pockets whistling tunelessly under his breath. They made eye contact for a second and Rose nodded as if she were just being pleasantly friendly to a stranger.

They finally had to stop when the summer sun had set and the growing dusk made it too dangerous to continue.

Back in Skip’s truck, she called the Franklins’ house phone. When Kate answered, Rose said, “No luck. We’re coming in.”

Silence, then a soft sob from the other end.

Rose’s throat tightened. She disconnected.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Early Thursday morning, the occupants of the Franklins’ house were startled awake by banging on the front door. Ben got to the living room first and went through the twitch-the-curtain routine. “Some guy in a suit. How’d he get past the officer on the street?”

Kate had a bad feeling. Rose stepped over to the other side of the door and moved the curtain aside. Her expression confirmed Kate’s suspicion.

“Brace yourselves.” Rose unlocked and opened the door.

Ben put his hand on his pistol. Kate caught the gesture and quickly said, “
Detective
Phillips, any news?”

Ben dropped his hand, letting his loose shirttail fall over his holster.

Kate said a quick silent prayer.
Dear God, please get us through this without somebody shooting this ass
. She doubted they’d be able to convince a judge it was justifiable homicide, even though it would be.

Phillips had one hand behind his back and a fake smile on his face. “Officer Hernandez, I’m impressed by your dedication that you would stay–”

Kate cut in, saving Rose from having to
act
. “Phillips, yes or no question. Have you found Mr. Franklin?”

“No, but we do have an interesting new development.” Phillips pulled his hand out from behind his back. In it was a large, clear evidence bag.

Kate leaned forward and squinted at the green piece of silky fabric inside. It was a man’s necktie, still loosely knotted in a big loop. On it was a pattern. Tiny, black scales of justice. She gasped.

Liz blanched and swayed on her feet. Skip caught her. Sweeping her up in his arms, he carried her to the living room sofa.

Kate turned back to the detective in time to catch the hint of a smirk on his face. Through gritted teeth, she said, “Phillips, whatever snide crack you’re thinking, keep it to yourself, or someone in this room might just kill you.”

“Is that a threat against an officer of the law, Mrs. Huntington?”

“No, it’s a warning. Our nerves are strung out to their limit. It would not be wise to pluck them right now.”

Phillips looked around at the tight faces of the men in the room. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat.

Kate hid a smirk of her own.

He made an after-you gesture toward the armchairs at either end of the sofa. Kate took the one nearest Liz. She reached for her friend’s hand and they hung onto each other.

Phillips took the other chair. Dangling the evidence bag in his hand, he said, “Do you recognize this tie, Mrs. Franklin?”

Tears were streaming down Liz’s face. With obvious effort, she pulled herself together to answer him. Her voice was a raspy whisper. “Yes, it was a Father’s Day gift…a few years ago, from the girls.”

Kate had a flash of insight about why women
do
sometimes fall apart in a crisis, when they can’t do anything but wait and worry. She filed it away for future contemplation and focused on Phillips.

“Went by your house this morning, Mrs. Huntington,” he was saying. “This was hanging from your front door knob. It’s got blood on it. What’s your husband’s blood type, Mrs. Franklin?”

Kate heard Liz choke on a sob. Fury was keeping her own horror and anguish at bay, for the moment at least. She flashed back to Rob’s words from a few weeks ago. Something about wrapping his hands around this man’s throat and squeezing until his eyes bulged out. She now shared the desire.

“O negative,” Liz finally managed to whisper.

“Fairly rare,” Phillips said. “Lab’ll tell us if this is a match.” He reached into his inside jacket pocket and pulled out another, smaller evidence bag with a piece of paper in it.

“This was pinned to the tie. Shall I read it to you?” He held up the clear bag. “It says, ‘You come to me now, Bitch. When and where I say. Alone. Or he dies!’”

Liz gasped, tightening her grip on Kate’s hand.

The room went fuzzy and tilted for a second. Kate closed her eyes and prayed she wouldn’t faint.

Phillips was waiting for their reactions. When neither woman commented, he asked, “Any thoughts about who this might be from?”

Kate pulled herself together and stated the obvious. “From the kidnapper, of course. But it doesn’t tell us much.”

“Any other thoughts?”

No one said anything. They had thoughts but none they particularly wished to discuss in front of Phillips.

“This wasn’t on your door when you left this morning, Mrs. Huntington?” he asked after a moment.

“I haven’t been home since Tuesday evening,” Kate said.

Phillips looked at the two big men standing behind her chair. “And your names are?”

“Skip Canfield. Ben Johnson,” Skip answered for both of them. “Tanner Security and Investigations.” His tone was calm, but Kate thought she detected an edge to it.

Phillips took out a notepad and wrote down their names.

He stood up. “Well, just wanted to keep you all informed. Let me know right away if the
alleged
kidnapper tries to contact you?”

Rose said, “I’ll walk you out, sir.”

~~~~~~~~

When they were by the door, Phillips asked in a low voice, “Has
she
had an opportunity to slip out and plant this?” He waved the evidence bag with the tie in it.

Rose pretended to give the idea some thought, then shook her head. “Somebody’s been with her all the time, either me or her bodyguard.”

“Yeah, but Franklin’s paying him. He could be in on the whole thing.”

“Sir,” Rose whispered in her best differential tone, “would you let me know right away what the lab finds on the tie and note, and on the wheelbarrow. I’m betting one of
their
fingerprints will be on them.” She pointed her chin toward the others.

Then she had another horrible thought.

She felt everyone’s eyes on her as she conferred with Phillips a few more minutes by the door. Then she sketched him a small salute and opened the door for him. It was all she could do to contain her fury and play the deferential junior officer until he was out of the house.

She turned to the others. “I can’t believe that man! He’s convinced the note’s a fake. Thinks one of you planted it.”

She repeated the first part of her exchange with Phillips.