The Closer He Gets

Bran accepted for himself, but said Paige had plans with a girlfriend that weekend. While they were on the phone, he listened in silence to the latest about Zach’s conversation with Shelby Womack and to the update that Zach had found the record of Sylvia Womack’s remarriage and change of name. She and the new husband lived in Mount Vernon, midway between Everett and Bellingham, where her daughters lived.

Tess spent the day at the store Saturday. Zach picked her up after work, with the plan being that they’d eat out after he talked to the former Mrs. Womack—if he got lucky and caught her at home. He had decided he wanted to see her face when he asked his questions.

He’d had time to change quickly, so he wasn’t in uniform when he rang the doorbell of a nice older home on the hill in Mount Vernon. He didn’t like leaving Tess in the truck, but he was confident they hadn’t been followed and she’d promised, cross her heart, to lean on the horn if she saw anything worrisome at all.

An attractive woman with short, stylish dark hair opened the door. Zach recognized her from her driver’s license picture.

“Mrs. Needham? My name is Zach Carter.”

Her expression didn’t change, which either meant she was a hell of an actor or that neither daughter had told her about his calls.

“Your ex-husband handled my parents’ insurance.” He paused. “Their names were Michael and Gayle Murphy. I imagine you remember my sister’s murder.”

She looked startled. “Of course, I do! Oh, my. You’re one of the Murphy boys? But didn’t you say your last name is Carter?”

He explained and asked if she would speak to him about her ex-husband.

Finally wary, she said, “I don’t understand.”

“I’m a police officer, Mrs. Needham, as is my brother. I imagine we were both influenced in our choice of career by what happened. I recently moved back to the area, and he and I have joined forces to look into Sheila’s death. Detective Nolte, who I believe spoke to you back then, mentioned your husband’s name to me.”

Her fingers tightened on the door. He could see her giving thought to closing it in his face.

“I’m hoping,” he said quietly, “that you won’t feel you owe him any loyalty.”

Her mouth thinned. “I do not.” Indecision held her for another minute before she sighed. “Is that your wife in the truck? She’s welcome to come in instead of sitting out here.”

“I thought you might be more comfortable answering my questions without any additional audience.”

She studied him, probably trying to determine how trustworthy he was, then nodded. “Very well.”

She led him to a living room with elegant, brocaded sofa and chairs, Persian rugs over gleaming hardwood floors and dainty side tables with Queen Anne feet. He had a feeling this room was for show, not daily use.

She sat in a wing-backed chair, her posture very straight, her hands folded on her lap. “I wasn’t aware that Duane’s name had ever come up during that investigation. Why on earth would it?”

Here’s where it got awkward. If she didn’t know her husband had cheated on her with Zach’s mother, did he have to tell her? She was already having to live with far more damaging knowledge of her ex.

“The investigators spoke to as many people as possible who’d had occasion to be out at the house,” he said diplomatically. “I am retracing their steps and widening the investigation. In trying to track down Duane, I reached your daughter, Andrea.”

Her expression changed.

“She told me that her father had molested both her and her younger sister. That...caught my attention, since Sheila was raped.”

“Oh, no,” she whispered. “I never knew that.”

“My parents might have wanted to keep it from me, too, but I found her body.”

“I’m so very sorry,” she murmured. “And I do see why you’re asking about Duane, but I can assure you it couldn’t have been him.”

“Detective Nolte told me you’d said he was home in bed with you every night.”

She blinked at that. “I vaguely remember him saying something in passing about seeing Duane out late at night. I thought it was odd.” Her cheeks turned pink and she wrung her hands. “If he’d asked me directly for...well...an alibi for Duane, I would have told him the truth. But it wasn’t information I was volunteering to anyone.”