Page 45 of Accidental Murder
Cindy shuffled backward. Kayla stepped in and closed the door. The late afternoon sun lit up Cindy’s face. On any other day, the effect would’ve been lovely. Today it heightened how vulnerable she looked.
The apartment was small, fitted with a rocking chair, crib, and television. A fold-up futon lay near the crib in the corner.
“Why did William do this to you?” Kayla asked.
“Because I questioned whether he had a hand in your . . .” She hesitated. “In Kayla’s death. He was mad at her for sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong.” She paced with the child.“He’s so upset with me. If only I hadn’t become pregnant. If only I’d been able to work a nine-to-five job and helped pad the coffers. The dog bed business isn’t as lucrative as I’d hoped. He hates living paycheck to paycheck.”
During college, Kayla had volunteered at a clinic for victims of spousal abuse. She recognized a woman’s words of regret all too well. “Doesn’t he earn a good salary?”
“He gambles.”
“I’m sorry the restraining order didn’t work.”
“He wanted to see me because something went wrong at the office. He told me it would be okay in a few days. I ordered him to leave or I’d call the police, but he laughed and said he had friends on the police force. He said they would let him do whatever he wanted.” She licked her chapped lips. “After he left, I knew I couldn’t stay there anymore.”
Kayla drew nearer. This time, when Cindy didn’t recoil, she touched her and guided her to the rocker. “Hiding is the right thing to do. Do you need money? Food?”
“I’ve got some cash. I just went to the grocery.” Fresh tears spilled from her eyes. The baby whimpered. “I need to feed her.”
“I’ll leave.” Kayla wrote Ashley’s cell phone number on a slip of paper and handed it to Cindy. “Call me anytime, anywhere. Does your mom know where you are?” Cindy’s imperious mother had visited once when Kayla was servicing the computer, and in Kayla’s presence, had berated her daughter for her choice of husband.I told you sowasn’t what Cindy needed right now.
“Mother has arranged for a lawyer, but I can’t stay with her. William would find me.”
Suspicion about William Norton’sinvolvement in her sister’s death swelled as Kayla drove back across the Golden Gate Bridge. If he had stolen into her townhouse, the police could find out. They had fingerprinted the murder site, and William’s information, because of the restraining order, ought to be stored in the system. He fit the description of the killer. If he was guilty, Darius Ventano was innocent. Dennis Wald, too. Could Kayla risk giving Dennis the benefit of the doubt?
She dialed the precinct, gave her name, and asked for Inspector Sergeant Hanrahan. The receptionist connected her.
“Miss Macintyre.” The inspector sounded rattled. She didn’t strike Kayla as the kind of woman who could be, although facing vile murderers on a daily basis had to take its toll. “I suppose you heard.”
“Heard what?”
“About Ventano.”
“What about him?”
Hanrahan cleared her throat. “He’s dead.”
Kayla’s stomach lurched. “When? How?”
The inspector provided a few details.
“I have another suspect for you then. William Norton.” Kayla told Hanrahan about Cindy’s situation and said, acting as Ashley, that her sister Kayla had been the person who had urged Cindy to report her husband’s abusive behavior. “He’s an administrator at a convalescent facility. Supposedly, he has friends on the force.”
Hanrahan promised to pursue the lead.
Thick ominous storm clouds brewed over the Pacific as Kayla considered the other client—not Cindy’s husband—that she thought most capable of murder. After meeting with Veronica, she would pay him a surprise visit.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
In the twohours since Ventano’s body had been discovered, Megan had compiled a long list of people to interview in the Macintyre case, including more of Kayla’s clients. She and her team had already questioned Kayla’s neighbors and her uncle, as well as three clients, thanks to names the Abacus Ink people had scraped together from Kayla’s hard drives. In an hour, Megan was scheduled to meet Richard Troy, the blind date David Macintyre and his niece Ashley had arranged for Kayla on the night of her murder. He was a pharmacist and a former Naval officer. He had no record. Even so, she would leave no stone unturned.
Following the appointment, she would touch base with Sara Simmons’s husband and then William Norton, if she could track him down.
“Man!” Megan rubbed her temples, exhaustion threatening to unhinge her. How many more of these people could she or her team question? The case was growing colder by the minute.
Cut it out, Megan, Ventano’s your guy. Don’t question it.
The time-coded tapes of the prison hadn’t revealed anyone slipping inside the kid’s cell to help him commit suicide. His confession had to have been the truth.
