Page 9 of Line of Sight (Second Sight #4)

GREG COLLINS’S home was on Harwich Road, Chestnut Hill, and it screamed opulence, with its huge gardens, indoor and outdoor pools, and luxury furnishings.

“I forgot,” Gary muttered as they waited for Greg in the elegant hallway. “He runs his stepdad’s empire now.” That explained the maid who answered the door. Then he remembered Dan’s background was pretty similar. Dan certainly seemed at ease in his surroundings.

A door opened, and Greg appeared, dressed in a pair of shorts and a tee. He was a tall man, with short, slightly wavy hair peppered with gray, and his toned arms, chest, and legs indicated a man who took care of himself.

Then Gary took a closer look at Greg’s right leg. “Wow. That would have caused a lot of pain at the time.” There was a scar above the knee, and Gary could make out teeth marks. “Shark bite?”

Greg nodded. “We were on vacation in Australia. They talk about stuff like this, but you don’t expect it to happen to you, right?” He gestured to his attire. “Forgive me, gentlemen, but I’ve just had a swim.”

A little boy of about four years old dashed into the hallway, accompanied by a little girl who seemed younger. “Daddy.” The boy tugged on the hem of Greg’s tee. “Making Christmas cards. Remember?”

Greg ruffled the boy’s hair. “In a minute, okay? Mommy’s going to help you get started, and I’ll be there soon.”

The boy pouted, then grabbed his sister’s hand and dragged her back the way they’d come.

Greg chuckled. “Kids. Nothing so important as Christmas, right?” He pointed to a door off to the left. “Let’s talk in here.” He led them into what was obviously his office and closed the door behind them. He gestured to the couch against the wall, standing next to a liquor cabinet.

They sat, and Gary got out his notepad. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us.”

“When you called, your name didn’t register.” Greg frowned. “We’ve met, haven’t we? At the reunion.” His eyes widened. “Mitchell. Of course, you’re Brad’s brother.”

Gary smiled. “That’s right. I’m a detective with Boston PD, and we’re reopening his case. Well, a few cases, actually.” He put out his hand and they shook. “And this is Dan Porter. He was also at the ball, if you remember.”

Greg gave a nod. “Mr. Porter.” He sat behind the desk and opened a box of cigars. “You don’t mind if I smoke one of these, do you? This is the only room in the house where I get to indulge my habit. And it’s too cold to venture outside.”

“Please, don’t let us stop you.” Gary flashed him another smile. “We wouldn’t want to come between a man and his habit.” He watched as Greg clipped the end from a fat cigar and lit it.

Greg leaned back, took a few puffs, then gazed at them. “It’s been, what, twenty-three years since Brad died?”

“Since his murder, yes.” Gary raised his chin. “It was hardly a natural death.”

Greg coughed. “Quite.” He took another puff, then grimaced. “That was horrible. I remember that day. Brad was supposed to be at a birthday party, but he never showed up.”

“Whose party?” Gary opened his notepad.

“Jason Kelly. Senator Kelly now, of course.” Greg smiled. “He used to talk about running for office even back then. It was always his dream.” He froze. “Have you found new evidence or something? I mean, to reopen the case after all this time.”

Dan gave a polite smile. “That’s where I come in.”

Greg stared at him. “ Now I know where I’ve seen you before. In the papers. You’re the psychic who helped catch that serial killer in the summer.”

Dan nodded.

“Then I hope you catch the bastard,” he said vehemently. “What they did to Brad was unbelievable. And I don’t think I can tell you anything new, if that’s why you’re here.”

Gary cleared his throat. “We’re not here to talk about Brad. One of the murders we’re reinvestigating is that of your stepbrother, Scott McCarthy.”

Greg gaped. “Oh wow. That’s awesome. Twenty-three years too late, but at least he hasn’t been forgotten. Too bad my stepfather isn’t around. He was never the same after that. Scott’s death devastated him. Well, all of us, really.”

Dan leaned forward. “What was Scott like?”

Greg smiled. “He was one of the good guys. He’d do anything for anybody. No one had a bad word to say about him, and certainly no reason to kill him.” He shivered. “The way the police said he died…. Who could do such a heinous thing?”

“You recall where you were the day Brad died,” Dan affirmed. “What about Scott? I guess that day must stick in the memory too.”

Greg nodded. “Yeah, it does. The night before his murder was one of the best nights of my life. A friend had gotten tickets for a group of us to be in the TV audience for a Led Zeppelin concert in NYC. That was the night they were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.”

Dan’s eyes lit up. “That sounds amazing.”

“It was. I couldn’t believe it when we got the tickets.”

“Who went with you?” Gary paused as a memory surfaced. “Brad was there, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah, Brad came with us. Then there was Jennifer Sullivan, Jason Kelly, Amy Walsh….”

“Who got you the tickets?” Dan interjected.

There was a slight hesitation before Greg replied.

“You know, I don’t remember. I recall we caught the train to Penn Station, and we had two rooms in a hotel.

I shared with the guys, and Jen and Amy shared.

The next morning we caught the train back to Boston—and heard the news about Scott.

” A sigh rolled out of him, heavy and long.

“From the best of times to the worst in less than twenty-four hours.”

“So there were five of you,” Gary asked for confirmation.

This time the pause was longer, and Gary’s arms prickled with gooseflesh.

Greg placed his cigar in a glass ashtray. “You know, this sounds as though I’m a suspect. I told the police all this when Scott died. Hell, I’m even on the video of the concert. You can see me in the audience.”

A line from Shakespeare came to mind. Greg was definitely protesting too much.

Gary closed his notepad. “We’re just familiarizing ourselves with the details.”

Greg stood. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any new information for you, either about Brad or Scott. Good luck with your investigations. Please let me know if you discover anything.”

Apparently they were done.

Dan rose to his feet. “We’ll be sure to do that.”

Greg pressed a button on the wall behind him, and a moment later, the maid reappeared. “Please show these gentlemen out,” Greg instructed her.

She nodded and gave them an expectant glance.

Interview terminated.

Gary followed the maid through the entrance hall, Dan at his side, and once they were outside, he frowned.

“I don’t need your gift to know we rattled him at the end there.”

Dan huffed. “He was rattled the moment he stepped into the hallway.” He came to a halt halfway along the path.

“Something else too. He didn’t shake my hand, but he shook yours.

Which made me think about the charity ball.

We must’ve shaken a whole lot of hands that night, but there were a few who didn’t.

I thought nothing of it at the time—not everyone likes to shake hands, right? —but looking back now….”

Gary nodded. “Now you know some of them could be suspects, and if they recognized you….”

“Exactly.” Dan glanced back at the house. “But I’ll tell you one thing for sure. The killer was there, and they certainly didn’t shake my hand.”

He followed Dan’s gaze. “Greg Collins has an alibi.”

“He says he does.”

Gary laughed. “Yup, you’re sounding more and more like a detective every day. So what would you like to do now?”

“Go back to the precinct and see if Greg was telling the truth. And if he was, then maybe we need to prove how it’s possible to be in two places at the same time.”

Gary unlocked the car. “You didn’t like him, did you?”

Dan grinned. “Damn. Am I that obvious?”

“A little? But that’s fine, because I didn’t like him either.”

Not shaking Dan’s hand?

That right there was a red flag.