Page 5 of Line of Sight (Second Sight #4)

DAN LOVED how organized Gary was. The five folders for the victims had been placed in a neat line on a table, and he knew without opening them that everything would be in there: police report, autopsy, background information, interviews….

And somewhere in all that information, there has to be something that will set us on the right track to unmasking a killer.

All they had to do was find it.

He drank the last of his coffee. “Who was interviewed at the time of Scott’s death?”

Gary leafed through the folder. “His father, stepmother, stepbrother, and Scott’s friends.

” He sighed. “The more I read about what kind of guy Scott was, the more I think this is a motiveless crime. The detectives at the time thought so too. He didn’t have an enemy in the world.

Whoever did this was one twisted individual. ”

“Can we talk to his family? Reinterview them? I know it was a long time ago, but….” They had to start somewhere, and who knew what he could pick up on even after so many years.

That’s why I’m here, right?

“Let me take a look.” Gary tapped on his keyboard and peered at his monitor. “Owen McCarthy stepped down from his business interests in 2005, and his stepson Greg took over.”

“Eleven years after Scott’s death.”

Gary nodded. “Owen died in 2006, aged fifty-eight.”

“Any photos of Greg?”

“A couple.” Gary clicked on the mouse and in the corner of the room the printer whirred into action. “That’s from Owen’s obituary.”

Dan got up and wandered over to the printer. He retrieved the sheet, then went to the board to attach the photo. Greg Collins didn’t ring any alarm bells. He was a good-looking man in his mid-thirties, with short dark hair and brown eyes.

He certainly didn’t seem like a killer, but then again, all the murderers Dan had met thus far hadn’t given off killer vibes at first glance.

Let’s see how I feel when I meet him.

Even better, shake hands with him.

The sooner, the better.

“So… we interview Greg and his mom.”

Gary arched his eyebrows. “Remind me again who is the detective in this room.”

Dan’s face grew warm. “Hey, I’m enthusiastic. That’s how you want me, isn’t it?”

“Well, it’s one of the ways I want you.” The husky edge to Gary’s voice sent delicious trickles of anticipation through Dan’s body.

Down, boy. This is work time.

Play time came later.

The same thought apparently occurred to Gary. “Sure, we can interview Greg and his mom, but there’s still no motive.”

Dan stuck out his chin. “There is. There has to be.” He met Gary’s bemused gaze. “We just haven’t worked it out yet.”

MARIE MCCARTHY lived in the Old Chestnut Hill Historic District, in an enormous house set back from the street. Gray sidings and white paintwork gave it a sophisticated appearance, with french doors and casement windows.

“Did she ever remarry?” Dan asked as they approached the front door.

“Not that I’ve read anywhere.”

“So there’s only her? Sounds like an awful waste of space.” Children’s laughter reached them from around the house, and he smiled. “It also sounds as if she has a houseful.”

The door opened, and a white-haired, smartly dressed woman stood there.

“Detective Mitchell? Mr. Porter? Please, come in.” They stepped into the interior, and she closed the door behind them. “You’ll have to excuse the noise. One of the residents’ children has a birthday today, and it’s mayhem in here. They’re outside in the backyard.”

“Residents?” Gary inquired.

“This house is a refuge for women who’ve suffered domestic abuse, who have nowhere else to go.

I have more rooms than I can ever use. My husband bought it shortly after we were married, and I don’t have the heart to sell up and move.

Besides, one day it will go to my son, Greg.

” Marie gestured across the entrance hall.

“Come into the lounge. We won’t be disturbed in there. ”

They followed her into an elegant room filled with simple furniture, paintings on every wall, and french doors that looked out over the yard, where at least ten children were playing with balloons. Gary and Dan sat on the leather couch, and she took the armchair next to the fireplace.

Dan gazed at their surroundings. There were framed photos everywhere, and he recognized Owen, Scott, and Greg. The latter was the subject of several family pictures, seated with his wife and two children.

“You said on the phone that you wanted to talk about Scott, because you were reopening the case.” Her clear voice brought his focus back on track. “I must say, I’m confused. He died almost twenty-four years ago. Why now? Has something changed? Have you found new evidence?” Her voice rose slightly.

Gary squared his shoulders. “Scott’s death is part of a cold-case investigation, but his is one of several. And while we don’t have any new evidence, we will be trying new avenues of inquiry.”

Marie’s gaze went from Gary to Dan. “I presume that means you.”

He blinked. “You know who I am?”

She nodded. “I read the newspapers like everyone else in Boston. You’ve successfully helped the police, haven’t you?” He gave a nod, and she straightened in her chair. “I never liked the fact that no one was brought to justice for Scott’s murder. Ask your questions.”

Dan leaned back against the cushions. “What was Scott like? What were his interests?”

Marie smiled. “He was only a boy when I met Owen, but he was an adorable child. Everyone loved him, including my own son, Greg. The two of them were inseparable. And as the years went by, he grew into a wonderful young man. The one memory that stands out in my mind? Scott must have been nine or ten at the time. We’d been clothes shopping, and as we walked back to the car, he saw a homeless man by the gates of the park, a dog lying beside him.

Scott asked me if we could help him.” Her face tightened.

“His generous nature put me to shame. I would have crossed the street to avoid the man, but all Scott saw was someone in need. I asked how he wanted to help. Scott thought about it for a moment, and then his face lit up. He said he was due to receive his allowance later that day from his father, so could he have it then?” She smiled.

“How could I refuse? I opened my purse, counted out the bills, and handed them to him. Scott ran to the gates and gave the homeless man every cent.”

Dan couldn’t help smiling too. “He sounds like he was an amazing young man.”

She nodded. “Owen trusted him—trusted both of them. By the time they were teenagers, Owen had formed his plan. The boys were to run his companies together when they were older.” A shadow seemed to flit across her face.

“Then when Scott was… when Scott died, Greg was there for Owen, and Owen relied upon him.” Marie expelled a breath.

“You asked about his interests. When he was a child, they were no different from the interests of other children the same age. But when he reached eighteen, he divided his time between working with his father, learning about the various companies, and working in soup kitchens. His only hobby seemed to be keeping fit. He’d always loved running when he was in high school, and that stayed with him after graduation. ”

“Can we go back to the day he died?” Gary asked. “Was there anything different about him?”

She paused for a moment. “I didn’t see him that morning. He was out of the house before I was even awake. Owen saw him, though. He said Scott seemed his usual bright-eyed, bushy-tailed self.” Another smile. “He always was a morning person.”

“Do you still have some of Scott’s possessions?” Dan mentally crossed his fingers.

She frowned. “Possessions?” Then her brow cleared. “Of course. I understand. I’m sure I do. Owen gave away a lot of Scott’s things, but he wouldn’t have given away everything. Let me see what I can find.” She stood and walked out of the room.

Dan rose and went over to gaze at the photos. “Scott was a good-looking kid.” He had a shock of dark brown hair, swept up at the front, and eyes the color of chocolate, warm and deep. His broad smile was very attractive.

He never got the chance to break hearts.

Gary pointed to the family photo of Owen, Marie, Scott, and Greg. “They seemed like a good fit.” He peered at the picture of Greg with his family. “I’ll bet anything you like that she spoils those grandkids.”

Dan laughed. “That’s what grandmothers do. It’s in the Constitution.” He smiled, pointing to a photo of a beaming Greg tossing a little boy into the air. “Now there’s a happy father.”

The door opened, and Marie reentered, carrying a box. “There isn’t much, but I hope it’s enough to give you some insight.”

Dan took the box from her, set it down on the coffee table, and opened the flaps. He reached into it and removed a watch.

“Owen bought that for him on his twenty-first birthday. He used it to time his laps when he went running.” Marie swallowed. “He was wearing that the day he died.”

Dan glanced at Gary, unable to miss the hopeful light in his eyes. But Dan knew better than to hope. It only led to disappointment when his gift revealed nothing.

He placed the watch between his palms and closed his eyes, opening himself up to whatever energy the item possessed. The quiet tick of a clock was the only sound in the room apart from his own breathing.

Finally he opened his eyes. “This was a good man.”

Marie’s eyes glistened. “You can feel that?”

He nodded.

“And… what about his death?”

His throat tightened. “I’m sorry, but there are no clues as to his death.” He hated pouring ice water on her hopes.

He picked up five or six different items: a book, a gold chain, another watch…. Nothing.

Dan closed the box. “I’m sorry. This has brought back unhappy memories for you.”

Marie wiped her eyes with a handkerchief.

“You think you’ve moved on, and then….” She took a deep breath.

“They might only have been stepbrothers for a short time, less than fifteen years in fact, but they were close. Scott’s death had such an impact on Greg.

An impact that can still be seen today.”

“What do you mean?” Gary asked.

“It was as if he realized how precious life was. He was almost a Buddhist after that. He wouldn’t even kill a fly or a spider.

For Greg all life had suddenly become sacred.

” She sighed. “And if that’s all, I think I’ll go out into the backyard and play grandmother to a host of excited children before I put all the candles on the birthday cake.

” Marie smiled. “Life around here is never dull, that’s for sure.

But keeping busy also keeps the memories at bay. ”

“Thank you for agreeing to talk with us.” Gary shook her hand.

Marie looked him in the eye. “Find out who did this. I know you can. I have faith in you. And in Mr. Porter’s extraordinary abilities.”

Dan took her hand. “Thank you. I will do everything I can.”

She led them to the front door. Gary glanced back as they followed the path to the sidewalk.

“I know Barry highlighted Greg’s name, but Greg doesn’t sound like the kind of person who would murder someone, especially in such a brutal manner,” he mused.

Dan paused at the car door. “And what if he’s more like the kind of person who could commit such a horrendous murder but then spends the rest of his life regretting it and trying to atone?”

One question would dog him all the way back to the precinct.

Which one are you, Greg Collins?