A Threat To His Family. Delores Fossen
be a third round of Laney doing that, but thanks to an emailed report he’d gotten from the San Antonio PD in the past hour, Owen knew that Hadley’s death had indeed been ruled a murder. She’d died from blunt-force trauma to the head. No eyewitnesses, no suspects. Well, no official suspects for SAPD. Laney clearly felt differently about that.
“Hadley and Emerson had an affair.” Laney stared at him. “I’m not going to change my story, no matter how many times you have me repeat it.”
That was what he figured, but this was another square filler, like calling out his identity to the intruder. It was especially necessary because she’d lied to him about who she was.
Something that still riled him to the core.
Hell, here he was a cop, and he hadn’t known one of his employees was living under an alias. Of course, there was no way he would have hired her had he known who she was and what she was after. That got Owen thinking—exactly what was she after anyway?
“Did you think I was covering up about my brother-in-law?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her answer came quickly, causing him to huff. If she truly believed Emerson had murdered her sister, then she’d just accused Owen of assorted felonies by not reporting the crime and obstructing justice. An accusation she must have realized because her gaze darted away. “I know you’re close to him.”
Yeah, he was. Emerson had helped him get through Naomi’s death. Those days had been so dark, Owen would have slid right down into the deepest, darkest hole if it hadn’t been for Addie and Emerson.
Of course, Emerson had been grieving, too, since he’d lost his only sister that day. Naomi and Emerson had been close, and while Owen didn’t have the deep connection with Emerson that Naomi had, Owen respected the man, especially after Naomi’s death when Emerson and he had been drawn together in grief. Maybe “misery loves company” had worked for both of them. Though there were times when Owen wondered if anything had actually worked. The grief could still slice through him.
“Tell me why you think Emerson killed Hadley,” Owen demanded. “And stick to only what you can prove. Gut feelings don’t count here.”
Her mouth tightened a little. “Hadley told me it got ugly when her relationship with Emerson was over. Like I said, she threatened to tell his wife, and then Emerson threatened her. He said he’d hurt her if she didn’t keep her mouth shut.”
Emerson could have a hot head. Owen had even been on the receiving end of one of his punches in high school when they’d disagreed over the score in a pick-up basketball game. But it was a big stretch to go from a punch to hurting a woman, much less killing her.
“That isn’t proof,” Owen quickly pointed out. “It’s hearsay.”
Laney didn’t dodge his gaze this time. “I have pictures.”
That got his attention. There’d been nothing about that in the police report. “Pictures?” he challenged.
She nodded. “Of Emerson and Hadley together.” Another pause, then she mumbled something he didn’t catch. “Hadley told me about them and said she kept them in a safe-deposit box.”
Owen wasn’t sure what to react to first. That there could be pictures or that this was the first he was hearing about it. “And you didn’t bother to tell the cops that?” he snarled.
“I did tell them, but I didn’t know where they were. Hadley hadn’t given me the name of the bank where she had the box.” Her forehead bunched up. “I didn’t ask, either, because I didn’t know how important those pictures were going to become.”
“They still might not be important. If the photos exist, they could possibly be proof of an affair and nothing more.” Though it twisted at his insides to think Emerson could have cheated on his wife.
Laney made a sound of disagreement. “They’re important. Because they’re the first step in proving that Emerson carried through on his threat to hurt her.”
Owen glanced at the key on the chain around her neck and groaned. “That’s for the safe-deposit box?”
Her response wasn’t so quick this time. “Yes, I believe it is. And I’ll give it to the cops when I find out which bank has the photos. By cops, I mean the San Antonio Police, not anyone who has a personal connection to Emerson.”
Of course. Laney wouldn’t trust him with the key because she believed he would tip off Emerson. Or destroy the pictures.
He wouldn’t.
If Owen did find something like that, he would do his job. But he doubted he could convince Laney of that. Doubted, too, that he could convince her of anything else right now.
“If there are photos and a safe-deposit box, they could be anywhere,” he pointed out. “You need help finding them... Joe Henshaw’s helping you with that.”
She nodded. “He’s a PI, too, and we became friends in a grief support group. He lost both his parents when they were murdered. Sorry,” Laney added.
The apology was no doubt because his father had been murdered, too, about a year ago, not long after Owen had lost his wife. His father had been gunned down by an unknown perp who was still out there. Owen had hope, though, that the case would be solved since they had an eyewitness. Too bad the witness had received a head injury and couldn’t remember squat about what had happened. But maybe one day she would remember.
One day.
Even though it had nearly killed Owen to lose Naomi, it was a deeper cut to lose his father. Naomi’s death had been a medical problem. A blood clot that had formed during delivery. But his dad’s life had been purposely taken. Murdered. And all of Owen’s skills learned in training as a cop hadn’t been able to stop it. Or bring the killer to justice.
Owen pushed that all aside, as he usually did when it came to his father, and went to the next item he needed to discuss with Laney.
“Tell me about Terrance McCoy.”
She raked her finger over her eyebrow and shifted her posture a little. “SAPD told you about the restraining order.” That was all she said for several moments. But yes, they had. “Then you also know that Terrance was a former client who wasn’t happy with the outcome of an investigation I did for him.”
That was a lukewarm explanation of a situation that had gotten pretty intense. Apparently, Terrance had hired Laney to do a thorough background check on a woman he’d met on an online dating site. When Laney hadn’t turned up any red flags, Terrance had continued to see the woman, who ultimately swindled him out of a sizable chunk of his trust fund. He blamed Laney for that and had even accused her of being in cahoots with the swindler. No proof of that, though.
“Terrance assaulted you,” Owen reminded her, letting her know what info he’d been given about the restraining order. “And he’s been out of jail for weeks now. He could have hired those men who came after you tonight.”
She looked him in the eyes again when she agreed with him. “Yes, and Joe is looking for Terrance now.”
Apparently that had come up in the short conversation she’d had with Joe. Or maybe Joe agreed that Terrance was definitely a person of interest here.
“The San Antonio cops are looking for Terrance, too,” Owen added.
After what had just happened, Terrance was at the top of their list of suspects. Ditto for anyone else Laney might have rubbed the wrong way. There were maybe other former clients out there. Dangerous ones. And because of the danger to Laney, Owen wasn’t going to forget that Addie had been put in danger, too.
“I hate to ask, because I know it’s just going to rile you even more than you already are,” Laney said, “but could this be about your father?”
Yes, he’d considered it. Briefly. And then he’d dismissed it, and Owen was pretty sure the dismissal had been objective. Hard to be completely