“Make it quick. Fort Ward. One hour.” He hung up.
Angie tossed her pen on her desk. “Damn it.”
“What did he want now?” Iris said.
“A meeting at Fort Ward. With the cops.”
“Tell me you are not going to bite. The guy is a con artist. He’s just jerking your chain.”
“I’m not so sure this time.”
“Look, anyone who can read knows you’re a sucker for a defendant. All that work you did on Project Innocence and those boys you got out of jail. He’s playing you.”
“He won’t be the first.” She glanced again at the paperwork. If she went to the park she’d lose at least two hours. She’d be here until midnight. But better to work here than drink alone at home.
Iris’s voice sliced through the silence. “Which cops are you calling?”
“Garrison.”
“Oh, he’ll be so thrilled to talk to you again.” Sarcasm dripped from the words. “Few have seen that man mad but you managed to accomplish that feat when you got his suspect acquitted.”
Iris referred to the Dixon case. After the verdict, Garrison had been angry, but his partner, Kier, had been the one that had cornered her later on the courthouse steps and called her scum. She’d shrugged it off for Kier’s benefit but the detective’s words had left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“We’re all big boys and girls, Iris. I’m just offering them information. ”
She retrieved Garrison’s number from her cell and hit Send. He picked up on the second ring.
“Detective Garrison.”
“Detective. Angie Carlson with Wellington and James.”
“Yes, Ms. Carlson.”
Ice crackled through the phone. Clearly, deep emotions simmered in the detective. “What can I do for you?”
She brushed a strand of hair from her face. “One of my clients has information that might be of use to you.”
“Really? I can’t wait to hear this one.” Normally, he didn’t let his frustration or anger show.
“I wouldn’t be calling if it wasn’t credible.”
“Shoot.”
“One of my clients appears to have stumbled upon a murder in progress, or at least that’s what the guy said. Anyway, he believes the killer burned his victim.”
“Say that again,” Garrison said.
“He says your victim might have been burned.”
A heavy silence hung in the air for a moment. “Did he say anything else?”
“Nope. The rest he’ll tell you in person.” She expected him to laugh it off.
“I’ll meet with him.”
Angie buried her shock. “He said Fort Ward in one hour.”
“I’ll meet you at the entrance in one hour.”
“Great.”
“Carlson, don’t speak to the media about any of this. If it leaks, your client doesn’t get a deal.”
The menace in his voice had her hackles rising a little. “You’ve got my silence until the meeting.”
Chapter 7
Tuesday, April 4, 8:47 A.M.
The image of the pale woman with full slack-jawed lips and high cheekbones niggled Eva’s mind. Who was she? Why did she seem so familiar? It bothered her that she shared a sense of connection with this woman—this murdered woman. Her only alibi was Bruce Radford and he’d never help her. If the cops really dug into her past they’d learn about her record.
Damn.
She had nothing to be ashamed of or anything to feel guilty about. The law should be on her side in this matter. But too many years in prison had taught hard lessons. Right did not always win.
Her hands trembling, she jerked open the back door to the kitchen and found that King had peeled most of the potatoes and had set them in a pot on the stove to boil. Whistling the theme to Gilligan’s Island, he appeared happy as he always did. She never could figure out how the guy remained so positive.
She was surprised to see Bobby sitting on a stool at the end of the butcher-block countertop. He ate a bagel with cream cheese and had a half-full glass of milk in front of him. “Bobby, I figured you’d be at school now.”
“I’m sick. King said I could stay home with him and Merlin.”
“Merlin?”
“The cat,” King said. “Bobby and I went out and got cat supplies.”
“You’ve caught it? ”
“Not yet,” King said.
“But we will.” Excitement sparked in Bobby’s eyes.
When she’d been a kid, she’d never missed school. Her mother had seen skipping as akin to waste. And one of her mother’s old admonishments rose in her before she caught herself. Let the kid have a day with the kitten.
Bobby glanced up from his bagel. In the morning light she could see a sprinkle of freckles on the bridge of his nose. “King says Merlin eats like a horse.”
King glanced toward Eva as she shrugged off her jacket. “Merlin eats more than you do.”
Eva smiled. “That’s saying a lot.”
“Remember when you first tripped through my front door?” King spoke easily, as if they’d broken bread a thousand times before. “You ate all the leftover meat loaf I had.” He looked at Bobby, his lips twisted into awry smile. “Drank five glasses of milk—nearly a half gallon.”
When she’d showed up at King’s she’d not eaten much for a couple of days. The bus ride from Richmond had stretched from the expected two hours to four thanks to traffic snarls. The thick air on the bus coupled with constant stopping and fears of returning home had twisted her stomach into knots. But when she’d arrived at King’s and smelled his meat loaf her stomach had growled with hunger.
Eva sat on the stool next to Bobby and spread cream cheese on her bagel. “These are great, King. I love fresh bagels.”
“I never met anyone that didn’t like bagels. Glad I got extra.” King kept his tone even and light as he continued to chop. Both pretended this was just another day and this kid who had just dropped out of nowhere belonged at the edge of the table eating a bagel.
“Good call.” She took a couple more bites. “So what’s on the menu for tonight?”
King laughed. “Potatoes. Wings and the usual burgers and chili dogs. Good bar fare.” The pub had a limited selection but “the eats were good and cheap,” as King enjoyed saying.
“Let me know what you need done today. I don’t have any subpoena deliveries.”
“That reminds me, that Luke fellow called. He wanted to know how the delivery went. He also sa
id the cops called asking if you had a job last night.”
Garrison had wasted no time. “I’ll give him a call back.”
King tossed her an annoyed glance over the top of his half glasses. “I don’t like that fellow.”
Refusing to engage in an old argument, she popped some bagel in her mouth. “He’s okay.”
“He puts you at risk. Tosses you the worst jobs he has on his books. Almost as if he wants you to find trouble.”
“They are the best-paying jobs.”
“Because nobody wants them, Eva. And,” he said, lowering his voice, “he’s a little too well acquainted with you. ”
“What’s that mean?” Bobby asked.
“He wants to date Eva,” King said.
“He won’t,” Eva said. Life was complicated enough right now without a man mucking it up.
Aware that Bobby was studying their volley of conversation as if it were a tennis match, she shrugged and tossed the kid a smile. “I’ll buzz him this morning.”
King swallowed his retort when he caught Bobby’s gaze. He grunted and lapsed into silence for several minutes before saying, “So how did your errands go this morning?” He didn’t mention the fire, mindful of Bobby.
“Fine,” she said, glancing to the boy who still stared at them both, trying to figure them out. “Didn’t pick up anything new. ”
“Really?”
She inclined her head toward the kid. “I might try back later. ”
King grunted, clearly not happy. “Maybe tomorrow. ”
Eva tore another piece of bagel but didn’t eat it. “I can go today. ”
He shrugged his big shoulders. “No rush. That reminds me,” King said. “You got a letter. Came in the mail yesterday. Just got it from the P.O. box this morning.”
He dug under his big white apron into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a rumpled brown letter. He handed it to her.
A frown creased her brow as she glanced at the simple bold handwriting. Her name, King’s post office box and no return address. Who would ever know she lived at King’s?
Refusing to borrow trouble she tore open the back flap with her thumbnail and pulled out the neatly creased newspaper article. The paper was brittle and yellowed on the edges.