Page 31 of Memory of Murder (Colby Agency: The Next Generation #3)

Finally, she looked up, this time at Jack.

“There was serious trouble brewing.” Her voice was low.

“Neil and Kevin came to blows at dinner is the way I heard it. They were at the new house Kevin was planning to buy. They’d done one of those trying it out for a night deals.

He and Eve were getting married in October, and they wanted to get settled before the wedding and honeymoon. ”

“Do you know what the fight was about?” Jack asked.

“It was…” She looked to Anne. “About the baby—you. Bear in mind that I heard all this thirdhand. Eve had told Carin and Carin told me.”

“Kevin took advantage of my mother.” Fury built inside Anne.

Judith nodded. “He claimed it was a one-time moment of weakness that Mary instigated, but I didn’t believe it.

Frankly, anyone who really knew him wouldn’t have believed it.

But Eve had her reasons for taking his word.

She wanted to marry the man who would be a senator one day.

A man who had taken a position from the Steve Jobs of research laboratory developers.

Eve knew Kevin was moving up, and she intended to rise with him. ”

Anne struggled to keep her anger at bay. “Carin knew too. That’s why she left.”

“I can’t say for sure,” Judith confessed, “but she knew it was all going to hit the fan, and she wanted no part of it.”

“Do you,” Jack asked, “believe Kevin Langston killed Neil?”

Judith held his gaze for a long, heart pounding moment. “No.”

No? Before Anne could demand an explanation, the woman went on.

“I believe Eve did it for him. Kevin would never have dared do anything that might damage his reputation. No way.” She shrugged.

“Although he had trouble keeping his trousers fastened, he, evidently, believed that particular sin was forgivable given the number of powerful men who’ve gotten away with it.

But he was far too self-absorbed to consider risking it all by committing murder. ”

“Why,” Anne demanded, “did you never tell anyone?”

Again, the older woman hesitated before answering. “I was afraid.”

Anne shook her head, swung her gaze to the window to prevent the other woman from seeing the accusation there. How could a woman who operated her own successful business be afraid?

“I did try.”

“How so, Judith?” Jack asked.

Anne turned back to the conversation. She certainly wanted to hear this one.

“I went to the detective—Detective Jones. Not at his office. I was too afraid. I went to his house. He and his wife had two kids, and they were living in a dump. I think he was embarrassed that I showed up there, but his financial status was irrelevant to me.”

“You told him,” Jack pressed, “about your suspicions.”

Judith moved her head up and down with a solemness that finished the story before she said another word.

“We sat on his back porch. I remember the house badly needed painting, and it was hot that evening. Just unusually miserable. But he heard me out and wrote everything down. He said he would let me know if he had any more questions.”

Anne knew exactly what happened. “He never had any more questions.”

“No. I, on the other hand, was suddenly in the battle of my life with my husband and with the state licensing board. It took me nearly a year to get all the local government offices related to running a business like mine off my back. I suppose I was lucky I wasn’t murdered.”

“You were lucky,” Jack confirmed.

Anne thought of the house they had visited where Harlan Jones lived. It was certainly not the same one Judith spoke about. The high-end SUV and fishing boat weren’t exactly cheap either.

“I noticed,” Judith went on, “later, maybe around Christmas, that the detective had moved up in the world. He bought a really nice house, moved his family there.” She laughed, a soft, bitter sound. “I suspect he quickly recognized which side his bread was buttered on.”

“Did Carin or Eve or her husband ever approach you about what you told the detective?” Jack asked.

“No. Carin had moved away and was doing her own kind of fishing for a rich husband. Eve and Kevin moved to Chicago to be nearer his new job. They only returned to Crystal Lake after he was elected to the US Senate. Ten years ago, I think. They built that enormous house and have been showing off ever since.”

“But they all remain friendly with you,” Anne said. “I’m guessing you put the word out about us after we talked that first time.”

“They pretend to be my friends,” Judith clarified. “But we don’t socialize unless they come here. As for passing the word along, I apologize, but it gave me great pleasure. I simply couldn’t help myself.” She frowned suddenly. “Dear Lord, I hope it wasn’t my fault that the hotel was set on fire.”

Jack waved off the idea. “They would have found out from someone.”

This didn’t appear to assuage her guilt. “I really am sorry if I contributed to that in any way.”

“We should go.” Anne finished off her cocktail. “We’ve had a long day.” She set her gaze on the older woman’s. “Thank you again for what you did for my mother. I should have been the one, but I was not in the right place for that.”

“I was glad I could.” Judith smiled. “For the record, I wish I had done the right thing for you as well. I’ve regretted that for all these years.” She stood. “Tonight is on the house.” She nodded to Jack. “Thank you for bringing her here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Anne floated between elation and anger on the drive back to their motel. It wasn’t that anything Judith had told her helped prove who Neil’s killer was—not in a strong enough or solid enough way to have the case reopened. But all of it made Anne feel a good deal better.

“Tomorrow,” Jack said, “we’ll pay another visit to the detective. The things Judith revealed will give us some leverage.”

“I can’t see Jones admitting to anything at this stage in his life,” she countered. “Not unless it involved some deal where he got immunity. Or maybe,” she added with a laugh, “he wants rid of his wife.”

“Depending on which side of the political fence the DA in this county is on, it’s possible he or she might be willing to go that route—a deal, I mean—if it brought down a dirty senator.”

Anne chewed her lip. “Carin probably knows all the gritty details. But I’m guessing she won’t change sides for any reason.”

“Not unless—” Jack glanced at Anne “—she’s the one who took care of the situation. Just because she had moved away doesn’t mean she didn’t come back for a few hours or a day.”

“I’m still leaning toward Eve. She had the most to lose—besides the senator, I mean. Judith might be right about him. He may not have had the guts to do the job.” Anne stared out at the darkening sky. The sun was setting. It would be full-on dark soon. “Then again, maybe he hired someone.”

“Possibly. But the more people involved in a secret, the less likely it is to stay secret. If Eve or Carin were willing, that would have been the safest route for the future.”

“Unless there was something else,” Anne said slowly, sharing her thoughts as they occurred, “that motivated her. I can’t wrap my head around the idea that Carin would take a man’s life for a friend.

It just seems like something that requires a more personal motive.

Unless you’re nothing more than a cold-blooded killer. ”

“Or desperate,” Jack offered.

“But again, what was her motive? What was she desperate about? Kevin Langston wasn’t her husband-to-be. Why kill someone over a betrayal that had no impact on her? She was working on Irving Wallace by then. She had the most to gain by sticking with Wallace.”

“Ah.” Jack glanced in Anne’s direction. “We can’t be certain there was no impact to her.

If the senator was a cheater, maybe Carin was one of his lovers.

She may have believed he intended to drop Eve for her.

With Wallace there was that little problem of the prenup, and she had no leverage to prevent it. ”

“I should have thought of that one.” Anne frowned. “Perhaps Carin was friendlier with Kevin than she ever was with Eve.”

“When Eve found out,” Jack went on, “she was grateful Carin had taken care of one problem, just not grateful enough to share her future husband.”

“Until they had no choice.” Anne considered the timeline. “Once Carin’s rich husband died—leaving her near penniless, in her mind—she decided to come back and call in the marker.”

Jack slowed for the turn into the motel. As he shifted into Park, he pulled out his cell. He stared at the screen. “Speak of the devil.” He showed a text to Anne.

It’s Carin. Meet me at the house on Fairlawn. We need to talk. Can’t do it on the phone.

“What if it’s not really her?” Worry edged into Anne’s thoughts.

“We can counter with a different meeting place.”

She shook her head. “We shouldn’t take the risk. If she’s willing to talk, we should do this her way. She might change her mind.”

“We’ll take necessary precautions,” he assured her as he backed out and pulled back onto the road. “We won’t just walk in the door.”

Anne wasn’t worried. She trusted Jack completely.