Cold Case Cop (14 page)

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Authors: Mary Burton

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Contemporary, #Romance

BOOK: Cold Case Cop
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Chapter 18
 
 

Saturday, July 19, 9:00 a.m.

 

T
ara had never been one to wait around for a man to call. If she wanted to talk to him, she called. But for some reason this morning as she got dressed for her meeting with Pierce, she couldn’t summon the courage to call Alex. In fact as each minute passed, the time they’d spent together on that island seemed more and more distant, as if it had never happened.

Tara ran a brush through her red hair and pulled it back into a tight ponytail. She slid on the navy blue tailored jacket that matched neatly creased pants.

She checked her watch, and knew she had plenty of time to have a cup of coffee and scan her notes. The more she thought about this story the more she believed that the key lay with the gems. Tara also believed they hadn’t been sold. Kit’s secret bank account had a balance of just under a million, and if the gems had been sold the balance would be higher. Of course, she could have stashed the money elsewhere, but Tara’s gut told her Kit hadn’t sold them yet. Kit, Borelli and Robinson—her gut told her the trio had been working together. They’d somehow come up with a scheme to steal the Landover gems.

She swallowed the rest of her coffee and decided to head out even though she was still running early. Better to be thirty minutes early than late.

The drive across town was easy, and she had no trouble finding a parking spot. Things rarely went this well, and she decided it had to be a sign she was meant to talk to Pierce.

At five minutes to eleven, she knocked on the front door. This time Mrs. Reston answered the door. The woman’s face was stern and held not the least bit of welcome. “Ms. Mackey.”

Tara nodded, refusing to let the woman’s icy stare make her feel inferior. “I’m here for Mr. Landover.”

Mrs. Reston stepped back and opened the door wider. “He’s expecting you in his study upstairs.”

Tara moved inside. “Thanks.”

The woman closed the door behind her. “Detective Kirkland was here last night. He told Mr. Landover about Kit.”

It made sense that Alex would be the one to deliver the news. “I hope Mr. Landover will be all right.”

“He’s a brave man and he would never show his true emotions. But I can tell he’s devastated.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not sorry. No reporter is sorry when they get their story. You’ve stirred up trouble and pain that was best left alone.”

Tara hadn’t expected Mrs. Reston to welcome her but she’d not anticipated this anger, either. “Isn’t it better to have the truth?”

“The truth is overrated.”

“I’m not here to argue the point with you or apologize that I did my job. I’m here to see Mr. Landover as he requested.”

Mrs. Reston’s eyes narrowed as she turned and led Tara up carpeted stairs to the second floor. Mrs. Reston knocked on a closed door at the end of the hallway.

“Enter.” Pierce’s stern voice echoed out from behind the door.

Mrs. Reston opened the door and announced Tara.

“Send her in,” he said.

Despite her bravado, butterflies chewed at Tara’s stomach as she stepped into the study. Her gaze skimmed past wood-paneled walls, a rich oriental carpet and twin leather chairs to Pierce, who stood behind a richly carved mahogany desk. He was dressed in dark pants and a starched white shirt. Thick gray hair brushed back off his face accentuated the deeply lined but distinguished face.

Behind Tara, Mrs. Reston closed the study door. And for just a moment, Tara flashed back to standing in a similar room ten years ago. The study had belonged to Robert’s father and he’d been writing her a check. The generous sum had been offered in exchange for her promise that she drop Robert. She’d told him in plain terms what he could do with the check. The next day, Robert had broken up with her.

She cleared her throat. “Mr. Landover. It’s a pleasure.”

His expression held no hint of welcome, but there was weariness behind his eyes. “Have a seat.”

She moved to one of the plush armchairs, sat and rested her briefcase beside her. From a bag she pulled a handheld recorder. “I’m sorry about your wife.”

He sighed. “She’s been dead to me for a year. You’d have thought the news Detective Kirkland brought me wouldn’t have been painful. But it was.”

“I am sorry for your loss.”

He nodded.

As much as he must be hurting, she’d come here to interview him at his request. “May I record our interview?”

He sat and folded his hands neatly in front of him. “No. This is strictly off the record.”

Off the record
. She should have known. “I thought you invited me here so that you could tell me your side of the story.”

“I did. I think you’ve earned the right. But that doesn’t mean I think the world deserves to know.” The edge of his thin mouth lifted into what some would describe as a smile. “If you don’t agree to my terms then there won’t be an interview today.”

As much as Tara wanted this puzzle solved, she was willing to bet that Pierce wanted his story told more. He had a huge ego and couldn’t let this story pass without being included. She rose. “Thank you for your time.”

His shock was evident on his face. “You’re leaving?”

“On the record is the only way I’ll play this.”

A heavy silence filled the room as he stared at her. Finally he nodded. “Agreed.”

Tara didn’t show her relief or joy. Instead she sat back down quietly and turned on her recorder.

“How did you find out about my wife’s past? I worked very hard to bury it.”

That shocked her. “You knew about her history?”

“Of course. A man in my position needs to know everything about everyone he comes in contact with.” He tapped his finger on a file. “I could tell you a few things about you, as well.”

She didn’t bother glancing at the file. “If that’s meant to distract me it doesn’t. I’m here to talk about Kit.”

He shrugged.

“How did you meet her? The newspapers reported you met at a gala.”

“That’s what I wanted everyone to believe.” He drew in a breath and for a moment lost himself in a pleasant memory. Then he seemed to steel himself. “I met Kit at a party in New York. Her looks caught my attention immediately. The woman could be spellbinding. I asked her to my suite in New York and she came. We spent the night together. When it came time for her to leave, I didn’t want her to go. She was stunning, very bright and frankly hypnotic. She was a breath of fresh air to me.”

Tara decided to tackle the delicate subject head-on. “She had an arrest record for prostitution in New York. Did she tell you about her past?”

He shook his head. “No. I had her investigated and when I found out the truth I honestly didn’t care. I knew with a little time and patience I could remake her into the perfect wife. So I created a new identity for her.”

That surprised Tara. “I thought she’d fooled you.”

He grinned. “I may be old but I’m not that foolish. I knew what I was getting into when I married her.”

“Was it your idea to go to Cadence to mine for the new identity?”

“No. That was hers. She was oddly sentimental about the town.” He leaned back in his chair. “You can see why I don’t want this known publicly. I broke a few laws to make her into Kit.”

“Did you also engineer her disappearance?”

“No. I was devastated when I thought she’d been murdered.”

“Did you know Borelli was her brother?”

“Yes. She loved him and wanted to take care of him. And he was someone I could trust her with.”

“When’s the last time you saw him?”

“Last year at our wedding. She kissed me on the terrace and said she’d be right back. I never saw her again.” He steepled his fingers. “She must have been planning her disappearance for months.”

“Why would she leave you on your wedding day? She’d have everything when she married you.”

“That’s all I thought about last night. All I can think is that she hated Boston. Hated the world I lived in. She wanted me to leave it, but I couldn’t. We started arguing before the wedding. I even lost my temper and hit her.” He sighed. “As the months passed she grew increasingly bored. She started making comments about breaking up. I reminded her that I’d made her and could destroy her as well. After that, she stopped talking about breaking up. I thought she understood her place and that we’d be fine.”

He may have loved Kit but to him she was a possession. “But Kit wasn’t really happy, was she?”

“I suppose not.”

Tara leaned forward. “Where do you think the gems are?”

Anger and sadness reflected in his pale blue eyes. “I don’t know. Whoever has them should know that they were marked by a laser. They are completely traceable.”

“So you don’t think she sold them.”

“Kit knew that the necklace was important to me. It had been in my family for six generations. And it was worth a fortune.”

Tara almost felt sorry for him. “Who do you think killed your wife?”

He shook his head as if the energy had drained completely from him. “I don’t know. But I want to find out. I owe that to her.” He pressed his fingertips to his temple. “I have a headache. This interview is going to have to end.”

“One more question?”

“I’ve given you enough already.”

Tara rose and left the room. At the end of the hallway Mrs. Reston waited for her. “What did he want with you?”

Tara kept walking. “You’ll have to ask him.”

 

 

Alex was waiting for Tara when she came out of the Landover home. He’d gone by the bar and Roxie had been happy to tell him where she was. There were issues that he and Tara needed to resolve between them. Already he felt as if she were drifting away.

She was halfway down the stairs when she spotted him. He noted that her eyes narrowed and her shoulders stiffened just a little. She’d pulled her hair back in a tight ponytail and he found he missed the way it brushed her shoulders when it was loose. “Kirkland.”

“So we’re back to last names,
Tara?

She closed the gap between them. “I like last names. Keeps a bit of distance.”

“That’s a topic for another day, Tara. Right now I want to ask you about your article.”

“What about it?” Her tone became defensive.

“I want you to put it on ice for a while. At least until we can process the information we have from the crime scenes.”

She shook her head. “Kirkland, you must be crazy if you think I’m going to sit on this article. I’m going home right now to write it and file it. It should hit the stands in Sunday’s paper.”

“I would have thought that after what we shared the other day you’d at least try to work with me.”

She stiffened as if he’d slapped her. “So was that what the other night was all about? Were you just looking for some kind of emotional hook to control me?”

This wasn’t what he’d intended for them to talk about. “No. You’re misreading everything.”

Tara shook her head. “I doubt it. I think I read it just right.” She stormed to her car and got in.

He followed and stared at her through the glass. “Tara, just hold off until I give you the all clear. The more you reveal the harder it will be to catch the killer.”

She fired up the engine. “Forget it.”

“This is serious. There is a murderer out there. I’m worried about your safety.”

“Save it. I’m headed home to write the article now.”

 

 

It was five o’clock when Tara finished the draft of her article. She could have e-mailed it off to Miriam immediately, but she found herself replaying what Kirkland had said. Could this article compromise his investigation? There was enough doubt for her to hold off sending the e-mail until morning. She’d told him originally that she’d gotten into this because she was looking for justice. Was it justice she wanted or headlines?

She switched off her computer and headed down the stairs to the first-floor bar. Roxie had the night off so it was Tara’s job to run the bar. Martha worked the tables while Tara ran the bar and the register. There was little time to think about Alex or the article.

At the end of the night Tara sent Martha home and she was ushering out the last of the customers. She’d not heard from Alex all day and she was sorry now she’d lost her temper. She owed him a phone call first thing in the morning.

She flipped the dead bolt in place and started back toward the bar. A knock at the front door had her pausing. “We’re closed,” she said, turning in the hopes that it might be Alex at the front door.

It was Cecilia Reston.

Curious, Tara moved to the door and opened it. “What do you want, Mrs. Reston?”

The woman looked tense and had lost a good bit of the poise she had had earlier. “I need to talk to you.”

“It’s kinda late.”

“It’s important.”

Tara opened the door and stepped aside. When Mrs. Reston was inside Tara closed and locked the door. “What can I do for you?”

“Have you filed your article on Kit yet?”

“No.”

She clutched her purse close to her chest. “Good, I’m not too late.”

“I’m filing the article in the morning.”

Mrs. Reston frowned. “You won’t send that article in.”

“Yes, I will.”

Mrs. Reston tightened her hold on her slim purse. “Financially, I can make it worth your while if you make it go away.”

Tara rubbed her hands over her apron. “I can’t do that.”

“Money could go a long way to settling debts. I know you have quite a few. It could even help Roxie with the second mortgage she took out on the bar.”

Tara frowned. “How do you know about that?”

Mrs. Reston’s smile was pleasant but there was steel behind her eyes. “You’d be surprised what I know.”

“Maybe it’s better you leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The hard tone in Mrs. Reston’s voice had Tara turning back toward her.

Tara found herself staring into the barrel of a gun.

 

 

Alex had spent the better part of the day kicking himself. He and Tara had argued about her stories in the past, hell, he’d even asked her to kill them before, but she’d always done what she thought was best and he respected her for that. And today, he’d used what they’d had to wield influence over her. In short, he’d been an ass.

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