Page 27 of Memory of Murder (Colby Agency: The Next Generation #3)

Barrington

Langston Residence

Since the meeting with Detective Jones, Jack had driven to Carin Carter Wallace’s residence on Rollings Hills Drive.

Again that disembodied voice on the intercom at the gate had insisted Ms. Wallace was not home and she had no idea where she was this morning.

Personal time , her calendar showed. He and Anne had simply shaken their heads.

The woman was still avoiding them. No surprise really.

Since he felt confident the detective would make it a point to get word to the Langstons, Jack had decided that watching their home would be the right step. Anne had agreed. If Detective Jones was quick about it, one or both Langstons would likely be reacting sooner rather than later.

“If either one leaves the house—” Anne broke the extended silence “—we’re going to follow, right?”

“We are.” They had grabbed lunch and spent some time surveilling the Wallace house to no avail. Jack had attempted to start a conversation from time to time, but nothing stuck. More than once he had considered bringing up last night, but there hadn’t been a moment that felt right.

No, that wasn’t true. If he were honest with himself, he worried that he’d read far too much into the moment.

He wasn’t at all sure she had felt the same way he had.

She’d experienced the need and the urgency—that part had been obvious.

But he wasn’t sure she felt the deeper attraction, the deeper connection that he had.

He liked Anne. A lot. And he wanted to know her better… if she was interested.

Since she hadn’t brought up the subject either, taking her lead seemed like the right move.

No matter that he actually wanted to talk about it.

Part of him wanted to apologize for making the first move.

He should have restrained himself. But the need to kiss her had overridden his senses.

He’d had no choice. After that, there had been no stopping.

Not that he regretted what they’d shared. No way. He just hoped she didn’t.

Last night had been…nice. In truth, it was way better than nice. Even great didn’t feel like an adequate description. The best way to describe it was that he wanted it to happen again…and again after that.

Still, he had crossed a line no matter that he refused to regret any aspect of it. He cared about this woman, and he wanted to spend more time with her…if she was agreeable, and last night it had felt like she was.

But he wasn’t pushing the idea. She was vulnerable right now. He’d lost control last night, but if it happened again, she would have to make the first move.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty about last night.”

Her words yanked him back to the here and now. Surprised him. He turned to her. “Why would you think I feel guilty?”

She kept her attention focused forward. “Well, I…you haven’t mentioned it, and…”

He laughed softly. “I was waiting for you to bring it up.” He studied her profile, easily spotted the uncertainty and hesitation there now that he looked more closely. She was nervous. “Since you brought it up, let me assure you that guilt is not what I feel.”

She met his gaze then, hers wide. “I hope you don’t regret it either. It was as much my decision as yours.”

He shook his head. “No regret. As long as you have no guilt or regret…”

“No regret and no guilt. I’m glad it happened. It was really…” She closed her eyes, took a breath. “It was amazing and…” She looked directly into his eyes then. “I hope when this is finished, we can do it again.” She snapped her eyes shut and winced. “I mean…”

“I think I know what you mean.” He took her hand in his and set his attention on the property just up the block from where they were parked. This thing between them would have to wait until his work on the case was done.

She relaxed and he did the same, then her fingers curled around his.

He was glad she trusted him and, it seemed, she liked him. He was glad about that part as well.

Putting too much stock in a relationship that developed during an intense situation was not smart. And maybe this wasn’t the brightest move he’d made. But he was in for however long it lasted.

Before he could get too lost in those thoughts, the gate to the Langston home started to swing open.

“Here we go.” He sat up straighter, put both hands on the steering wheel.

Beside him, Anne leaned slightly forward in anticipation of who would be leaving the Langston residence.

The sleek black Mercedes that Eve Langston drove rolled forward. She took a right out of her driveway, and Jack caught a glimpse of the woman in the driver’s side window. One of their targets was on the move.

Once the Mercedes was farther down the block, Jack eased onto the street and followed.

Tension coiled inside him along with the hope that the woman would meet with someone or do something that gave them the upper hand in this investigation.

What they had right now was a lot of interesting and potentially case-altering scenarios but no evidence to back it up.

Not unlike what Detective Jones had when the case was originally investigated.

Other than the proverbial smoking gun, he’d had nothing that proved Mary Morton had pulled the trigger.

Likewise, they had nothing that proved she hadn’t.

There had to be something or someone out there who could change that disappointing situation. All they had to do was find it.

“Well, what do you know,” Jack announced as Langston turned onto Rolling Hills Drive.

“She’s headed to Wallace’s house,” Anne finished the announcement for him.

“Looks that way.”

Sure enough Langston pulled up to the gate in front of the Wallace residence, and the twelve or so feet of iron opened.

Jack parked across the street and far enough back from the house so as not to be easily spotted but with a line of sight to the only way in or out of the property.

“They can’t talk on the phone,” Anne pointed out with a satisfied smile.

“Not unless they want to risk the records being subpoenaed and the conversation being revealed.”

“The best way around leaving evidence of a conversation is to have it face-to-face.” Anne folded her arms over her chest. “They’re getting their stories straight, I’m sure. Conferring about all the trouble we’re causing.”

“I agree.” Jack considered another thought.

“I’ve also been thinking about Carin’s role in all this.

Before Neil was murdered,” he began, putting the new theory into words for the first time, “it was Eve and Kevin, Mary and Neil. Carin was a sort of fifth wheel. None of the photos you found showed her with a date or a partner. She was always the lone extra.”

Anne’s brow furrowed as she turned to him. “You’re right. She was the extra. The tagalong.”

“She was and still is,” he went on, “attractive. Apparently smart. What if she was having an affair with Neil or Kevin that whole time and had no desire to have another guy in the mix? She was happy taking whatever she could get from her secret lover.”

“If she’d been having an affair with Neil,” Anne said, “don’t you think that would have come out? It would have been a solid motive for Mary having murdered him. And if Mary had any idea about it, surely she would have mentioned it in the journal.”

“Maybe.” He let the theory roll around in his head for a bit. “An affair—whichever man was the offending partner—may have been the reason Carin left Crystal Lake in the first place.”

“Makes sense,” Anne agreed. “Her friends wanted nothing to do with her once they knew.” She made a face as if recalling something. “Except Mary mentioned in her journal that she didn’t understand why Carin had left. Whatever Eve knew, Mary had no idea.”

“Neil could have asked her to leave considering the baby on the way. Carin,” Jack offered, “may have felt guilty or abandoned and followed his suggestion.”

“But why would she?” Anne countered. “If it was Neil she wanted, why not stay and confront Mary? Why give up so easily?”

Jack smiled. She really had a great mind for investigative work.

“That’s a very good question. We don’t know enough about Carin to make an assessment.

But we do know that Eve, on the other hand, was someone Carin probably didn’t want to cross.

Bearing in mind Kevin’s big coup with BioTech and his political aspirations, Eve would likely have sided with Kevin no matter what he’d done.

She strikes me as the sort who follows the money.

Carin would have known it was a no-win situation. ”

“Good point.” Anne shifted to get more comfortable. “In that scenario, Carin left because Eve found out about the affair. But when the murder happened, she came back to…what? Provide emotional support? Be a cheerleader for Team Eve and Kevin? Make sure she wasn’t blamed?”

The realization of what the probable answer was suddenly expanded in Jack’s brain.

“No, Carin came back to show she was aware of what really happened. By then she was busy sinking her claws into the mega-rich investor Irving Wallace. She was too close to a big payoff to let it go. So she dropped by to leave the message just in case she would need to take advantage of that knowledge in the future.”

“And she did. Twenty years later,” Anne picked the story up from there, “Irving dropped dead, and poor Carin was left only the paltry sum of five million dollars. The prenup ensured the man’s grown children got everything else. So she finds herself back at square one.”

“She takes her paltry sum and returns to Crystal Lake where her old friends have suddenly risen to fame as Senator and Mrs. Langston. She negotiates a job—one which would not cover the cost of a four-million-dollar home and a six-figure automobile. But with her recent inheritance, she buys the home and the car while the nice salary, and whatever blackmail proceeds flow in keep her afloat in the lifestyle to which she had become accustomed.”