Big Shot (7 page)

“Not that you’d ever let a word stop you.”

“No, but giving Smart a reason to arrest me doesn’t seem the best way to start the day.”

“Nor does getting involved in a murder in any way. Finding the perp is the detective’s job. Just keep that in mind, Durk.”

“I hear you.” For what that was worth. “Talk to you later. Now I gotta run.” He had pictures to collect. And a visit to the condo where he’d spent some of the most exciting and unforgettable nights of his life.

* * *

T
HIRTY MINUTES LATER
, Durk pulled into the parking garage attached to Meghan’s high-rise complex. He noted the cameras that monitored his movements and those of anyone else entering or leaving via the garage. He was fairly certain the film from yesterday was already in the hands of Detective Smart. Hopefully it held valuable clues as to the identity of the attacker Meghan had yet to recall.

Her memories were suppressed. Durk’s were far too potent as he pressed the magnetic key into the door that opened into the first-floor hallway.

A midnight swim in the rooftop pool followed by hours of making love. Slow dancing on the moonlit private balcony to a country ballad with Meghan dressed only in a pair of red Western boots that he’d had made for her.

Reveries that he didn’t need now.

He took the elevator to the fifth floor, an elevator that was also equipped with security cameras. Oddly, he remembered thinking how protected the condo was the first time he’d come here with Meghan.

It had given him an obviously false sense of Meghan’s safety. Not that safety had been a major concern of hers. She’d frequently assured him she could take care of herself and that she was always packin’.

But where was her gun when the attacker showed up? He should have been the one who was shot and left to die in a pool of his own blood.

The elevator bell clanged, the door opened and Durk stepped out just as Bill Mackey was about to step in.

“Just the man I need to talk to,” Durk said, putting out a hand to the muscular brute of a guy he’d mostly seen in passing. They’d engaged in exactly one actual conversation before this.

Bill shook his hand with a bodybuilder’s grip as the elevator left without him. “Haven’t run into you around here in years,” Bill said. “I guess you must have heard what happened to Meghan last night.”

“I did. In fact, I just left the hospital.”

“How is she?”

“She has a concussion and has a nice little goose egg on her head, but she’s going to be fine.”

“Thank God. That son of a bitch would have killed her if I hadn’t shown up when I did. I saw him bash her head against the wall.”

“Did you get a good look at him?”

“No, but I got a piece of him. I would have finished the thug off if he hadn’t got in one lucky punch.”

“Tell me what you saw after you arrived on the scene.”

“The guy had Meghan pinned to the wall with his body. He had his fist pulled back and was about to punch her in the face when I rushed in. I ordered the yellow-bellied woman-killer to get his hands off her and take on me.”

“Then what happened?”

“He got one look at me and he was ready to run. He took hold of Meghan’s shoulders and bashed her head against the wall. Then he turned and pointed a Taser at me.”

“Did you see a pistol?”

“No. All he had was a Taser.”

“Did he use that on you?”

“He would have. Before he could, Meghan kicked him and ruined his aim. I wrestled it from his hand and tossed it across the room.”

“What was Meghan doing during this time?”

“When I saw her she was just lying on the floor. I think she was unconscious, probably from having her head bashed into the wall. But she’d still managed to get in that kick that kept him from Tasering me before she passed out. She’s a fighter.”

“She is that. Any chance you can identify the assailant?”

“No. I tried to yank off his mask, but that was when he got his one lucky punch below the belt. I staggered backward and the punk coward took off like the devil himself was at his heels.”

“Did you go after him?”

“No. I figured getting an ambulance for Meghan was more urgent.”

“A good call,” Durk agreed. “Did you see any identifying characteristics on the attacker? A tattoo? A scar? Any kind of prominent mole, birthmark or disfigurement?”

“No. Detective Smart already asked me all of that. About all I can tell you is that he was over six feet tall and muscular. And he’s a white guy. That I can guarantee since I saw his fists up close and personal.”

“I see the evidence,” Durk said, eyeing a nasty bruise below Bill’s right eye, proof that the guy had gotten in at least one punch far above the waist, too.

“I still don’t understand how the guy got into the building,” Bill said. “Management keeps stressing how secure the complex is when talking to prospective buyers.”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” Durk said. It was a meaningless cliché. His mind had already moved on to other considerations, like why the man had used a stun gun on Meghan and tried to use one on Bill when he’d used a bullet on Ben Conroe.

Bill reached over and pressed the call button for the elevator. “Any idea when Meghan will be coming home?”

“The doctor hasn’t said.”

“Tell her I asked about her.”

“Will do.”

The elevator showed up and this time Bill did step inside it. There had been no mention of Ben’s death. Evidently Bill had bypassed all the local news media that morning.

Questions about the vile perpetrator and why he’d targeted Meghan persisted as Durk stalked down the hallway toward Meghan’s door. As expected, it was crisscrossed with police crime scene tape. Durk moved the tape, inserted his key and stepped inside.

His insides recoiled at the scene, obviously left pretty much as the cops had found it. An end table was overturned, its contents resting among shards of broken glass from a shattered vase. The lamp that had stood next to her sofa was overturned and broken.

Fingerprint powder dusted the surface of tabletops and the floor. A stringent odor he didn’t recognize hung heavy in the air, no doubt some chemical used by the CSU in their quest for clues. Their search would have been much more intense than usually provided for an unarmed attack since it was connected to a murder, as well.

A sickening feeling churned in Durk’s stomach when his gaze fell on the blood stains that darkened the wall next to the balcony door. He imagined the brutal bastard bashing Meghan’s head into the wall. This time the wave of fury was so strong it made him nauseous.

There was no way Meghan could come home to this until after the police tape was removed and the place was cleaned up.

He forced himself to turn his back on the living room and stepped into Meghan’s bedroom. The familiarity of it was painful, but he kept the memories at bay. They would get him nowhere and he didn’t have time to waste reliving the past.

He studied a few framed photographs that rested on top of Meghan’s chest. He chose two. One was of her and some of her sorority sisters when she’d attended Baylor. She’d told Durk all about them when they’d first started dating. He knew she was still close to all of them though none lived in the Dallas area.

The other picture was a professional shot of her and Lucy on Lucy’s wedding day. Their arms were around each other’s shoulders and they were laughing. A moment as meaningful as that surely couldn’t have faded totally from Meghan’s mind.

He walked over to the bedside table and picked up a silver-framed snapshot of Meghan, Lucy and their mother taken on the day Meghan had left for college. This was probably enough for a start, but he lingered a minute and then opened the drawer.

There were a couple of paperback novels, a flashlight and two packaged condoms. He felt an instant irritation that even he couldn’t justify. He hadn’t expected Meghan’s sex life to end just because they’d broken up. But if there was a significant other in her life, where was he now?

He was about to slam the drawer shut when he spotted what appeared to be another picture, this one barely poking out from beneath the bottom book.

He fit his fingers around the corner and removed it from the drawer. The snapshot stared back at him mockingly. It was of him, asleep in her bed, his thick, dark hair mussed, his chest bared. He’d had no idea she’d taken it, even less idea why she’d kept it.

He added it to the collection, though he wasn’t sure he should show it to her. It contradicted the story that they were just friends and might make her nervous to be around him.

He turned to go and was almost home free when he heard footsteps outside the door. Keys clanged and then one turned in the lock. For a second he thought it might be the assailant returning and he looked for a weapon, his body gearing up for a fight.

But when the door opened, it was Sam Smart’s consternation he faced.

“Anyone ever tell you what the penalty is for ignoring Police Do Not Cross Tape?”

“Can’t say that they have.”

“Don’t get smart, Lambert. Your being a Dallas big shot doesn’t score you any points with me.”

“I wouldn’t expect it to. Any luck with tracking down Meghan’s attacker?”

“Nothing I’m at liberty to discuss.” Smart’s mouth twisted into a scowl. “What are you doing here?”

“I just came by to pick up some snapshots that might help jog Meghan’s memory,” he answered truthfully. “No chance she can identify the man who sent her to the hospital unless she remembers him.”

“So you’re just trying to help me do my job.” The detective stuck out his hand. “Let me see the pictures.”

Durk wished he’d left the one of him sleeping tucked away in the drawer, but there was nothing he could do now but turn it over with the rest of the pictures.

Smart sneered when he came to it. “I don’t even want to think about what memories you’re trying to revive with this one.”

Durk swallowed the first comment that came to mind, figuring that pissing off Smart wouldn’t help him get this over with any sooner. “You know, I’d really like to get back to the hospital with these as soon as I can,” Durk said.

Smart handed him back the photos. “Okay, Lambert. You can walk—for now. But cross this line again and you go straight to jail. Is that clear?”

“Suppose Meghan wants something from here?” Durk asked. “It’s still her home.”

“If Meghan needs anything from the apartment before we remove the barrier tape, I’ll get it for her,” Smart said.

“Have it your way.” Either Smart didn’t like him on general principle or he thought Durk might not be totally innocent. For whatever reason, Smart was not going to make Durk’s involvement in this easy.

No matter. Durk had no intention of backing out until someone was arrested and behind bars. He didn’t plan for that to be him.

He took the pictures and left, thankful to get away from Smart and the memory-filled condo. Before he reached the hospital, his phone rang. This time it was his brother Tague.

“You need to get back to the hospital, Durk. And make it fast. You’ve got big problems on your hands.”

Chapter Six

“What’s wrong?” Durk fought the rising panic. “Is it Meghan? Are there complications?”

“The problem is not with Meghan,” Tague assured him. “At least not yet.”

“Then what is it?”

“I was approaching the telemetry unit nurses’ station to see if I could find you when this woman showed up demanding to see Meghan.”

Durk gave a low whistle. “Man, don’t scare me like that. The woman’s probably a friend of Meghan’s who just read or heard about the attack.”

“She’s not sounding too friendly. She claims that Meghan killed her husband. I’d say she’s definitely here to make trouble.”

“Did you call security?”

“She was bordering on hysteria. I didn’t have the heart to have her thrown out or possibly arrested.”

“You surely didn’t let her in to see Meghan?”

“No. I persuaded her to come down to the hospital coffee shop with me and talk things through.”

“What’s her story?”

“She claims she’s Ben Conroe’s wife.”

Damn.
Durk had been so upset about Meghan that he hadn’t given any thought to Ben’s wife. He should have broken the news of her husband’s death to her instead of leaving it to the police. It might not have been nearly as cold coming from him.

“Is she there by herself?” Durk asked.

“Yeah. She told me her parents are driving over from Georgia, but they won’t be here until tonight.”

“She must have friends or a pastor she can call to help her through this.”

“She’s not too concerned about being here alone. All she wants to do is confront the woman she thinks is responsible for her husband’s death.”

“She can’t go in and upset Meghan. That’s out of the question. Besides, at this point, Meghan won’t even know who she is.”

“You’d better get back here and explain that to her. You know I’m allergic to hysterical women. They make me break out in hives.”

“It’s strawberries that do that.”

“Then Mary Nell Conroe must be wearing strawberry-scented perfume.”

* * *

D
URK SPOTTED
T
AGUE
, Mary Nell and his mother sitting together at a back table in the hospital coffee shop. He had no idea how Carolina had gotten dragged into the situation, but it was no doubt for the best.

No one was better at providing a little TLC and understanding—or at forcing a person to deal with facts head-on—if that’s what she thought was needed.

Mary Nell’s elbows were propped on the table and her hands were cradling her head. Durk quickly made his way to the table, pulled out a chair and joined them.

“This is my son Durk,” Carolina said.

Mary Nell lifted her head and stared at him warily, as if he were a wolf joining their group of nervous sheep. Her eyes were red and swollen and her hay-colored hair looked as if someone had twisted it into knots before loosening it to fly wild.

“You’re the one who found Ben’s body,” she accused, her stare reproachful.

“I went to Meghan’s office to tell Ben that Meghan was in the hospital,” Durk said. “I never expected to find him dead.”