Page 37 of Skin Game
“There was nothing else on her? She had a pretty big leather shoulder bag with her when she appeared on my doorstep.”
“Not that we found. Can you describe it?”
Gabe glanced up at the ceiling, doing his best to recall what the bag looked like. “It was roomy, big enough for a small dog if you’re into that sort of thing. Leather, I think, and possibly navyblue or black? It was a shoulder bag, not a backpack, if that helps.”
Eagan jotted the information down in the small notebook she always seemed to carry with her.
“She drove an older dark blue Ford Focus. Pretty dinged up, Washington plates.”
Eagan’s pen scratched across the notepad again.
“Whathaveyou found? Anything you can tell me about?” Gabe leaned toward the deputy again. “I just assumed you got my name from the paperwork she tried to pass off as legitimate.” Not from some random piece of paper inside her coat.
“Nothing else. We were lucky that her jacket was waterproof. Otherwise the piece of paper would have been destroyed.”
“Who found her?” he asked.
Eagan considered his question before replying. “A dog walker discovered the body. We haven’t confirmed yet if the head injury happened before she went into the water. I’m hoping the pathologist can answer that soon.”
“But you suspect she was bashed before.”
“I do.”
Egan’s eyes bored into his like she was trying to read his mind.Good luck there. Gabe stared back, but he wasn’t thinking about Juliet Carter, he was thinking about Heidi Karne. The tendrils of a shadow of a hunch were starting to form in his mind, and he needed space to tease them out.
“Do you know anything about Jack Thorne?” Gabe asked. “Someone gave me his name. He’s a private investigator in Westfort.”
Eagan scowled. “Yeah, I’ve heard of him. Why?”
“Clearly, I have some private investigating I need done.” He emphasized the word private. He’d rather not air the specifics of Heidi’s probable dirty laundry if he didn’t have to.
“As far as I’ve heard, Thorne is good at what he does.” Eagan closed her notebook and pushed back her chair. “Karne, at thispoint we’re not officially bringing you in. I, for one, would like to think I know you a bit now, and this does not feel like your type of crime. Please don’t ruin my faith in you.”
“As backhanded as it is, I’m going to take that as a compliment. I’m free to go, correct?”
Did he have a type of crime? He supposed he did.
The deputy rose to her feet. “Yes, you are. If we have more questions for you, we’ll call. In light of that, please leave your cell phone number with the front desk.”
“Absolutely.”
“One last question.” Eagan reached down and started the recording again. “Mr. Karne, where were you on Monday night?”
Gabe shrugged. “Home alone, with my cat.”
“Casey Lundin can’t corroborate?”
“Nope. Definitely wish he could. I guess this just means we have to get our shit together and find a place big enough for the both of us.”Before the next body shows up. “Am I still free to go?”
The deputy nodded, and together they left the interview room and returned to the lobby.
“Thank you for your cooperation,” Eagan said, and turned back the way they’d come.
Stopping at her desk, Gabe made sure Althea had his cell phone number. She dutifully jotted it down in an official-looking TCSO notebook and turned back to her monitor and keyboard. He wondered what duties she had aside from basically keeping the station in order.
“How’s Hero doing? Is she happy to have the locket back?”
Gabe lingered, his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. Althea was still a bit of a mystery to him. According to Elton, she and he had been “stepping out occasionally” since the beginning of the year, but Elton hadn’t shared much else with Gabe and Casey, which seemed odd. She’d been with the TCSO for a couple of decades and had a good fried chicken recipe. Gabe had a sneaking suspicion that last one was the main reason the stepping-out wasstill happening. He knew Elton’d do just about anything for decent fried chicken.