File M for Murder (13 page)

Kanesha waited until the voluptuous blonde was well out of earshot before she addressed Laura and me again. “You called your father, you said.”

It took a moment for the question to register with me. Then I realized Kanesha had returned to the point in her questioning we had reached before Townsend called her away to show her the earring. And that reminded me: What
was the significance of that earring? Did it somehow implicate Damitra Vane in Lawton’s death?

She had obviously been in Connor’s apartment. Perhaps this afternoon?

Laura cleared her throat. “Yes, I called Dad. I sort of panicked, I guess, and couldn’t think what else to do. Dad calmed me down and said he’d come over. Then he told me I should call 911. So I did.”

“What did you do while you waited for your father and the emergency response personnel to arrive?” Kanesha had her small notebook out again.

Laura’s expression went blank, and her right hand came up to her ear again. “I stayed on the phone for several minutes, but I finally hung up on the 911 woman. She kept badgering me to touch Connor.” She shuddered. “I told her I wasn’t going to. Then I guess I waited outside, because I was so freaked out by…well, you know.”

That disconcerted me, and I hoped it didn’t show on my face. Laura was definitely lying this time, because when I arrived she was inside the apartment. Why was she lying? My stomach started churning. I couldn’t believe my daughter was involved in Connor Lawton’s death, but her actions made me terribly uneasy. I had to get her alone to question her.

Kanesha regarded Laura in silence for a moment. I couldn’t read the deputy’s expression. Had she already picked up on Laura’s body language?

She might well have done, because Kanesha was sharp and experienced. I had witnessed her in action enough the past year to know that much.

I began to be more afraid for my daughter. If only I could warn her not to lie to Kanesha or mislead her. Then I realized the irony of that. I hadn’t always been precisely truthful with Kanesha myself, though I had tried to avoid outright lies. Like father like daughter, I reflected ruefully.

Kanesha focused her attention on me. “Mr. Harris, what about you? What did you do when you arrived on the scene?”

I needed to choose my words with extreme care. “The first thing I did, of course, was to assure myself that Laura hadn’t been harmed. Then I went inside to determine whether Lawton was still alive.” I described my actions while I was in the apartment. “Then, when I was about to go outside again, I heard the two policemen talking to Laura.”

Kanesha finished jotting in her notebook, closed it, and put it and her pen away. “Thank you, Mr. Harris. Now, Miss Harris, I’d like you to accompany me to the sheriff’s department for further questioning.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I spoke before I considered the implications of my words. Then I stumbled over my explanation. “I mean, Laura’s had quite a shock. I think she needs to go home.”

“I understand your concern,” Kanesha said. “But I’m afraid I have to insist.”

“It’s okay, Dad.” Laura moved close and threw her arms around me. Her sudden action threw me slightly off balance, and I turned about thirty degrees to the left, away from Kanesha. I steadied myself and held my daughter in my arms.

To my great surprise I felt Laura’s right hand slide inside my left pants pocket. Then she pulled her hand out and pushed away from me.

“I’m ready to go with you.” Laura addressed Kanesha with composure intact.

I hoped I wasn’t standing there with my mouth hanging open. I had to squelch the urge to reach into my pocket to retrieve what Laura had put there.

Kanesha shot me a glance with narrowed eyes. I thought she suspected there was something odd about that sudden
embrace, but she didn’t question it. Instead she said, “You can come too, Mr. Harris, but you can’t be in the room during my interview with your daughter.”

“I understand,” I said. “Honey, I’ll be there to take you home.”

Laura nodded, and then Kanesha led her away. I followed them out of the courtyard onto the street and watched—stomach still churning—while Kanesha put Laura into a sheriff’s department car. When the door closed and the vehicle pulled away, I walked to my car, my mind racing with questions.

I waited until I was inside the car, though, with the air conditioner running full blast, before I delved into my pocket to find out what Laura had hidden there. The shape felt familiar. I pulled it out and opened my palm, and there it was, an ordinary computer thumb drive.

I stared at it blankly for a moment. Was this from Connor Lawton’s apartment? Was this device the reason Laura lied to Kanesha?

I’d have to wait for Laura to explain herself and tell me why she thought this thumb drive was important enough to indulge in covert action to give it to me. What was on it that she didn’t want Kanesha to know about?

After a moment I stuffed the device back in my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. Before I headed to the sheriff’s department, I ought to call Sean and tell him what was going on. If Laura should need legal representation, Sean might as well be on the spot.

Sean answered quickly. “Hey, Dad, where are you? Justin said you tore out of here without an explanation.”

“Sorry about that,” I said. “But I didn’t really have time to explain anything. Are you at home now? Because I need to talk to you, and I don’t want you driving and talking on your phone.”

“I’m home,” Sean said. “Fire away.”

I leaned back against the headrest and tried to relax. My entire body felt tight and tense. “Connor Lawton is dead, and Laura found him.” Then, before Sean could start firing questions at me, I gave him a precis of the situation. When I finished, Sean didn’t respond for a moment.

“Bloody hell.” I heard him expel a sharp breath. “I’m on my way, Dad.” He ended the call before I could respond.

I tucked my cell phone away and put the car in gear. My hands trembled slightly, and I gripped the wheel more firmly. I tried not to think about Laura being arrested for murder on the drive to the sheriff’s department.

When I pulled into a parking space some ten minutes later, I was wrestling with a different question.

Why did I think Connor Lawton was murdered?

Lawton had a volatile, even violent, temperament, but he hadn’t appeared to be a manic depressive in my brief acquaintance with him. I didn’t see him as the suicidal type. Even if he was wrestling with the play and unhappy with the way it was developing, he wouldn’t end his life over it. Lawton was a fighter; I was convinced of that.

His death could have been an accident. I considered that possibility again as I walked from the parking lot toward the front door of the sheriff’s department. Alcohol poisoning? There was that bottle of bourbon near his body.

Even as these thoughts entered my mind, I had a nasty feeling that Lawton’s death was definitely murder.

Inside the sheriff’s department, the fluorescent lighting and chilly air brought me out of my reverie. I spoke to the officer at the front desk and explained why I was there. He nodded and pointed to a small waiting area. He said he’d make sure the chief deputy knew I was there.

I was at the water cooler, gulping down my third paper cup of water when Sean arrived. He strode over, the heels
of his cowboy boots thudding against the scuffed linoleum. The officer at the desk glanced up, frowned, and went back to whatever he was doing.

Sean squeezed my shoulder. “How are you doing, Dad?”

“I’ve had better days.” I crumpled the paper cup and dropped it in the wastebasket next to the cooler. “But it’s Laura I’m worried about. Let’s go sit down and talk.”

Sean followed me to the waiting area, and we selected seats in the corner, as far from the front desk as possible.

In an undertone I told Sean the one thing I hadn’t shared with him during the phone call—Laura’s strange action with the thumb drive.

Sean’s expression turned grim when I finished. “If that turns out to be a crime scene, and they find out Laura removed that device, she could face some serious charges.”

Laura’s face was so drawn and pale that I didn’t have the heart to question her once we were alone in the car. My concern for her well-being was paramount. I didn’t understand her relationship with Connor Lawton. She insisted they were no longer romantically involved and even seemed to dislike him, yet she had gone out of her way this afternoon to help him. My late wife and I had reared our children to be loyal to their friends and family, but I had seen little evidence that Lawton deserved such loyalty.

After Laura moved to Hollywood to pursue her dream, she visited infrequently, particularly after her mother died. When she did come to visit, she seemed different in some small ways, the natural effect of her experiences in California. But I had little doubt that at heart she was still my Laura. A verse from Proverbs ran through my head: “Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.” We instilled in both our children a strong sense of responsibility for their actions, and though
they might occasionally make a small misstep, I knew they were good people. Laura as a child, however, had an overdeveloped sense of responsibility, sometimes taking on more than she should in an effort to help another person. Perhaps this was the case with Connor Lawton.

If so, I felt Laura had made an error in judgment. She should not have removed that thumb drive from Lawton’s apartment—and surely she must have, or why slip it into my pocket so furtively?

She and I were due for a heart-to-heart the moment she seemed up to it. By the time we reached home it was a few minutes past eight. My head ached and my stomach grumbled—I needed some caffeine and food, and Laura needed some sustenance as well. Sean pulled his car into the garage shortly after Laura and I entered the kitchen. When he joined us I was putting a chicken, rice, and mushroom casserole in the oven to warm. Stewart had left it in the fridge for us, bless him. Laura sipped a diet soda and stared vacantly at the surface of the table. Diesel, who had greeted us at the door, kept wrapping himself around my legs and complaining with loud chirps and meows over having been left behind.

After a glance at his sister, Sean asked, “What can I do?”

“There are some green beans in a pot in the fridge. Can you put them on to warm? I need to give Diesel some attention before he knocks me over.” As Sean moved to comply with my request, I pulled a chair out from the table and sat. Diesel moved between my legs and placed his front paws in my lap. I held his head in both hands and rubbed under his chin with both thumbs. I murmured to him, telling him I was sorry I had to leave him behind, but that Laura had needed me. His purr rumbled as he gazed into my eyes.

Then, to my surprise, he pulled away and padded over to Laura’s chair. She was oblivious to his presence, still focused
blankly on the table, but he butted his head against her side to get her attention. Jostled out of her reverie, she set her soda down and turned in her chair. Diesel put his front paws in her lap and stretched his head up toward her face. With a sob, Laura bent and wrapped her arms around his upper body and held him close. Diesel meowed, as if in sympathy.

Sean, stirring the pot of beans at the stove, let go of the spoon and took a tentative step toward his sister. I motioned for him to stop and shook my head. For the moment I figured Diesel, with his sensitivity to humans in distress, might be able to comfort Laura better than either her father or her brother could. Our turns would come.

Sean and I remained silent for the next several minutes while Laura hung on to Diesel and quietly cried. When the oven timer buzzed, Laura lifted a tearstained face and released Diesel. The cat sat back on his hind legs and watched her as she plucked several tissues from the box Sean held out to her. She wiped her face, blew her nose, and crumpled the tissues into a ball.

I went to her and gathered her into my arms when she stood. She rested her head on my shoulder for a moment before pulling away. “I’m okay, Dad,” she said, her voice hoarse.

“Why don’t you go wash your face, sweetheart, and then we’ll eat.”

She started to protest that she wasn’t hungry, but I asked her when she had eaten last.

“Lunchtime.” Laura smiled briefly. “Yeah, I probably should have something.” She kissed my cheek. “Back in a few.”

“I’m worried about her, Dad,” Sean said the moment Laura was out of the room, Diesel right on her heels. “I think maybe she was still in love with that jerk, and if his
death turns out to be something besides suicide or an accident, she could look like the prime suspect.”

“I know, son. That concerns me, too.” My head throbbed to remind me that I had yet to drink anything caffeinated. I pulled a can of diet soda from the fridge and popped the top. I gulped some down, and moments later the throbbing began to ease. “Let’s give her a little time to recover some equilibrium, and then I plan on having a long talk with her about Lawton and all that’s happened.”

When Laura and Diesel returned, Sean and I had dished out the casserole and the green beans. Laura sat at her place and picked up her fork. She stared at the plate for a moment, as if willing herself to eat, then ate some of the casserole. Sean and I watched her furtively as we too began to eat. Laura’s face had regained some color, and as she ate she looked less worn.