Page 12 of Memory of Murder (Colby Agency: The Next Generation #3)

Barrington

Langston Residence

Jack parked down the block from the turn onto the Langston property.

He checked his cell since there had been a couple of vibrations during the drive over.

The two waiting text messages made him smile.

One was from his contact at the Mayo Clinic, the other from Jamie Colby.

Each wanted to ensure he’d received the latest information sent to his email.

Having the power of the Colby Agency as backup was the best. He glanced at the woman in the passenger seat. He wondered if she understood yet how lucky she was that her mother had chosen the Colby Agency.

“Did you have a chance to look over the information I sent you?” He turned his attention to Anne.

They’d had breakfast in their respective rooms, so they hadn’t really talked this morning. On the drive here she’d been focused on a call from her assistant about an in-progress project.

But now, before knocking on this door and kicking off the day with a serious bang, they needed to talk.

“I did.” She stared toward the property that was their destination.

“The Langstons made an investment in the research company, BioTech, where the senator worked the first decade of his law career. As he left the company to start his political career, the stocks soared, making them multimillionaires when they sold out. It would seem they have a legitimate explanation for their super lifestyle change.”

He was surprised she hadn’t made the connection that came with the rest of the information he’d sent her via email. “Maybe you didn’t notice that Carin Carter Wallace’s husband was an angel investor in BioTech well before she met him…well before the Langstons invested.”

She frowned. “So Carin’s husband was one of the original investors.”

“He was.” Jack grinned. “Just one year after his investment in a fledgling company, she shows up in his life and they end up married.”

Anne bobbed her head slowly. “Okay, but what’s the connection to my parents?”

Surprised didn’t begin to cover his reaction to her use of the term parents .

This was the first time he’d heard her refer to Mary Morton and Neil Reed as parents…

out loud anyway. He suspected it was her first time period.

He hoped what they found during this investigation didn’t make her regret that development.

“I can’t confirm anything with any degree of certainty,” he said honestly. “But Carin disappeared from the Crystal Lake area and appeared in Wallace’s orbit just a couple of months before Neil’s murder.”

Anne nodded slowly, as if trying to make the connection he meant, then surprise flared in her expression.

“Kevin, Eve and Carin were all trying to get involved with this BioTech. With that in mind, maybe Carin didn’t just get mad and leave.

She may have left with an agenda—to weave her way into Wallace’s life. ”

“Right. And FYI, BioTech got its start right here in Chicago by a young med student, Michael Smith, at Northwestern’s Feinberg School of Medicine.”

Her eyes widened. “Neil was at Northwestern.”

Jack held up his cell. “One of my sources who attended Northwestern just confirmed that the two were friends. But the really interesting part is that Michael Smith and Neil Reed were two of four who shared an apartment for a while.”

“Are you serious?”

He nodded. “I am.” Even Jack had found this news particularly exciting.

“Wow.” She took a breath. “I can see how this company—BioTech—is a definite connection of some sort.” She bit her lip, confusion replacing the other emotions that had danced across her face. “But how did that lead to murder?”

“That’s what we intend to find out. I can’t say for sure this is the connection— the thread —that led to murder. But it’s one that wasn’t explored in the investigation.” He shifted back into Drive. “And money matters have long been motives for murder.”

“True. But Neil was a law student. The only money matters he had at the time was the mounting debt.”

“Still—” Jack braked for the turn into the imposing driveway “—it’s a starting place for our search.”

“It is a starting place. The fact that all the players except Mary and Neil wound up a part of BioTech does seem a little suspicious.”

“Definitely a little suspicious considering that Mary mentioned a new start-up business that wanted Neil on board.”

Anne’s eyes widened. “You’re right. If it was BioTech, then that’s a thread that binds them all.”

He nodded. “Exactly.”

Jack braked again at the gate and powered down his window. Now, if they were lucky, Mrs. Langston was home. He pressed the button on the intercom.

“Good morning,” a female voice said. “Please state your name and business.”

“Jackson Brenner with the Colby Agency and my colleague, Anne Griffin.” He glanced at her. “We’re here to see Eve Redford Langston.”

He used the woman’s maiden name as well to suggest some knowledge of her prior to becoming the senator’s wife.

Anne’s eyebrows lifted in question. Likely the same question he had.

Would the lady of the house allow them into her domain?

Would she dare satisfy her curiosity as to why the daughter of Mary Morton was at her gate?

He had no doubt the Langstons had already heard the news.

Judith Hudson, owner of Judith’s, had photos with her lifelong friend, Eve Langston, all over her social media pages.

Jack had spent some time perusing those pages last night.

The woman no doubt called Langston the instant they left her establishment.

“One moment please.”

The seconds ticked off, but neither spoke while they waited.

The pulse at the base of Anne’s throat fluttered rapidly.

She was nervous…anxious. Who wouldn’t be?

This was her life—well, her history anyway.

Like anyone else, she wanted to understand…

to clear up the mystery. He couldn’t imagine growing up and finding his way through this world without the strong foundation of his personal history…

without the love of his parents and siblings.

So much of Anne’s was unknown. Hung in the balance of multiple unanswered questions. And that didn’t even take into account the murder.

The gate suddenly started a slow swing inward.

He and Anne exchanged a look. Evidently they were in. The smile that stretched across her face no doubt mirrored his own.

“Drive forward,” the seemingly disembodied voice directed. “Park near the fountain and approach the front door.”

“Will do.” He powered the window up and rolled forward. “We’re in.”

Anne exhaled a big breath. “She didn’t say Eve wasn’t in.”

“She did not. I’m guessing Eve intends to see us, otherwise why allow the visit to her home?”

“I’m sure the Colby Agency name was persuasive.”

“Possibly.”

The name often got him through doors he might not have been able to enter.

But he suspected Eve Redford Langston knew exactly who Anne Griffin was and why she was here.

If Anne hadn’t decided Judith had given them up, he’d let her have that one for a bit longer.

Judith had pretended to be such a good friend of Mary’s.

He had a feeling Anne preferred giving people the benefit of the doubt.

Surprising in light of the childhood she’d lived.

She was a nice person, he decided. Maybe too nice.

Jack parked on the cobblestone drive that circled a massive fountain which looked exactly like something one might come across in Italy. He exited the car and moved toward Anne’s door.

She emerged, staring at the fountain, then the monstrosity of a house with its grand turret. “This is just too much,” she said for his ears only.

He agreed. This, he surmised, was not a home. It was bragging rights.

A short set of broad steps led to a grand porch—if you could call the architectural detail fronting a castle-like structure a porch.

The double doors opened as they approached. A woman, middle aged, well dressed, waited just inside.

“This way please.” She gestured to the grand foyer.

Once they were across the threshold, the woman closed the doors, then led the way across the marble-floored foyer.

The ceiling towered at least three stories, rising to the very top of the turret that fronted the mansion.

They crossed under the upstairs landing that was flanked on either side by a stone staircase.

Jack had expected they would be ushered to a parlor of some sort, but instead the next set of double doors the woman opened revealed a library as large as the one in his hometown.

The walls were lined with book-filled shelves.

The flow was interrupted only by a large arched window on the opposite side from the doors, ensuring an inspiring view of the rear gardens.

Near the window was a seating area, with a sofa and a couple of chairs surrounding a table.

A woman, her back turned, waited at the window that looked out over the meticulously and lushly cultivated landscape.

When the double doors closed, leaving Jack and Anne standing in the center of the room, the woman at the window turned to them.

Eve Redford Langston took a couple of steps toward the seating area.

Her attention first rested on Jack. It wasn’t until she paused at the sofa that she shifted her attention to Anne.

Her eyes widened. Jack was almost positive he heard a sharp intake of breath.

Eve gestured to the two upholstered chairs. “Sit. Please.”

She lowered onto the sofa, her gaze tracking their movements toward the chairs.

When they were seated, she turned to Anne. “It’s amazing how much you look like your mother.”

I N THE PAST Anne would have stiffened if anyone had made such a remark to her, but somehow in the past few hours she had come to terms with many things. Her resemblance to her mother was one of them. It almost felt like a compliment.