Listen (26 page)

Read Listen Online

Authors: Rene Gutteridge

Tags: #Suspense & Thrillers, #FICTION / General

Damien folded his arms and stared at the carpet.

“Also, there hasn’t been an updated post on the Web site since Frank died.” Lou put a hand on Damien’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. ”

“It’s not true. Frank wouldn’t do this. I know him. You need to look elsewhere. And you need to figure out who killed Frank.”

“We’re looking into all the angles, including whether or not Frank knew Angela was seeing someone.”

“Just find out who killed him, okay?”

 

25

As much as he splashed cold water on his face, Damien still couldn’t shake the fatigue he continued to feel every morning. His sleep was fitful at best, and even if he managed a good night’s sleep, he never felt rested. And when he had the time, he didn’t want to rest. He wanted to find out what happened to Frank.

As he trudged downstairs, his mind reeled with the facts he knew. Ballistics confirmed the gun type that was used to kill Frank, but no weapon had been found yet. He was shot from behind, most likely as he stepped into the apartment. The apartment was unlocked because there was no forced entry and no key was found on Frank that matched the lock at Angela’s apartment.

There were no witnesses to the crime, but one resident confirmed hearing what sounded like a firecracker at 6:55 a.m., and several others reported seeing the apartment door open.

Angela had been cleared as a suspect, at least as directly involved in the murder. Damien suspected she could be involved in another way, like hiring a hit man.

He tried to shrug off the thoughts as he joined his family at the table. “Good morning,” he said.

“Hey, Dad,” Jenna said.

Damien noticed she looked better. Her eyes had life in them again. He sat down and Kay served him eggs. “Thanks.” He studied Jenna some more. She even looked like she’d put on some weight, which she desperately needed. “Jenna, how’s everything at school? With what happened with Frank, I’ve been a little distracted. I’m sorry.”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Really?”

She actually grinned. “Yeah. Really. Everything’s like, totally normal again.”

Damien believed it. She looked really healthy.

“Dad?” Hunter asked.

“Yeah, buddy?”

“Did Frank die because of the Web site?”

“What makes you say that? Are people talking at school? blaming Frank?”

Hunter shrugged, playing with his toast.

“Don’t believe everything you hear. Frank was killed by a coward who shot him in the back. I know what people are saying. Don’t believe it.”

“Kids, you need to get going if you don’t want to be late,” Kay said.

They got up and grabbed their coats and backpacks. A minute later they were out the door.

Damien was still hunched over his uneaten plate of eggs.

Kay slid into the chair next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “You’re struggling.”

“Yeah.”

She put her head on his shoulder. “I know you miss Frank. You haven’t grieved him, though. You have to let yourself grieve.”

“As soon as we catch who did this, I—” Damien stopped.

Kay sat up. “What? What’s wrong?”

Damien held up a finger, trying to retrieve the thought that had just passed through his mind. He turned to Kay. “I think . . .”

“What?”

“Is the computer on?”

“I think so. Why?”

Damien hurried into the study, dropping into the chair while reaching for the keyboard. He quickly typed
www.listentoyourself.net
.

“What are you doing?”

“Hold on,” Damien said, using the mouse to scroll down until he found the last conversation recorded. “Read this.”

Kay leaned in.

 

“Hey, yeah, give me another.”

“You’re a bourbon and Coke man?”

“I am these days. Might even drop the Coke.”

“Bad day?”

“Bad week. Month. Life.”

“Me too. Lost my job.”

“About to lose my mind.”

“Then there must be a woman involved.”

“Do they make anything stronger than bourbon that I can stand to drink?”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Yeah, I guess. I was seeing a woman. She sort of freaked on me. Threatened to . . .”

“What? Hey, slow down there. Drink it too fast and you’ll puke or pass out or both.”

“Gimme another.”

“So, your woman freaked?”

“My woman threatened to tell my other woman.”

“Oh. Ouch.”

“Yeah. And see, that can’t happen. It won’t happen.”

Kay stood upright. “Okay, what? I’m not following.”

“This is the last conversation on the Web site, the one Frank was supposedly reading.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Maybe this conversation is about Angela. The woman, one of them, might be Angela.”

“So you think Angela was seeing someone and he was cheating on her?”

Damien peered at the screen. “Or Angela was the woman whom this guy was cheating with.”

Kay studied the words again. “The woman that was going to tell the other woman.”

Damien pointed. “‘It won’t happen.’”

“Sounds like he’s desperate.”

Damien clicked Print.

 

***

 

Damien waited near the interrogation room, watching a small, very fuzzy closed-circuit television. Angela sat in a small chair and fidgeted with her blouse. The camera angle made her look small and insignificant.

Detective Murray entered, dropping his jacket onto the corner of the table, which was no bigger than a card table. “We wanted to talk to you about Frank’s murder.”

“I didn’t do it,” Angela said, sniffling.

“We have reason to believe you are not being totally forthright with us.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You told us that you weren’t seeing anyone.”

A drawn-out pause. Her fidgeting could even be seen on the small screen.

Damien glanced at the captain, who nodded. “We got her.”

Angela spoke. “I was seeing someone.”

“Why didn’t you tell us this before?”

She looked down. “Because I was embarrassed.”

“About?”

“He’s married. We didn’t . . . we didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Did Frank know you were seeing someone?”

“I talked to Frank one day about it, because this man . . . he started acting strangely and I was afraid.”

“Strangely how?”

“His temper was out of control. He was always yelling at me. I told him I thought the stress of the affair was too much, but he said he could handle it. I didn’t think so. I wanted to break off the relationship, but he wouldn’t let me.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means he said that wasn’t going to happen. Then I told him that if he didn’t back off, I was going to tell his wife. I had to threaten him because he wouldn’t . . .” She broke down in tears.

Detective Murray waited patiently, without sympathy. “So,” he said after a moment, “you told Frank about this guy.”

“Yes. I don’t think Frank . . . I mean, I think he was fed up with me. And for good reason. He didn’t see how he could help.”

“What happened after you told this man you wanted to break it off?”

“I didn’t hear from him.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Four days before Frank was killed. You don’t think . . . ?”

“What is this man’s name?”

Angela shook her head.

Damien glared at the television. “How could she not tell us this before?”

“Ma’am, we need this man’s name. We have good reason to believe he could be involved.”

“What? No, no. You’ve got that wrong. He’s a moody guy, but he’s not a murderer.”

“We believe he had intentions to harm you.”

Angela’s stunned expression was clear even through the grainy television.

“The Web site that’s wreaking havoc on Marlo recorded a conversation that could be linked to you.” Detective Murray pushed a piece of paper across the table to Angela. “This page was up on Frank’s computer the morning he came to your apartment. We believe that Frank may have believed this conversation was about you.”

Angela picked up the paper, read it, and slowly put it back down. “Are you saying Frank came to my apartment looking for me? because he thought I was in danger?”

“We can’t say for sure, but it looks as if Frank walked in, startled this guy, who was there intending to harm you.” Detective Murray leaned forward. “We need that name. Now.”

 

26

Damien rode with Captain Grayson to Mike Toledo’s residence. His wife said that he was at work. They arrived at his work a little after noon, and his supervisor said that he was on lunch break but was planning to do some Christmas shopping at the town square, specifically at RadioShack.

The captain parked his car in an empty space near RadioShack. Three patrol cars accompanied him, pulling to nearby curbs.

Grayson gathered them on the sidewalk across the street from the store. “Murray, I want you to go in easy. Let’s not spook this guy. Tell him we just want to bring him in and talk to him about what he knows. Guys, let’s stand by, out of line of sight.”

Murray pointed. “That’s his car, right? The red one?”

“Yeah. Looks like our boy is in there. All right, let’s go in. Damien, wait by the car.”

Damien nodded and got comfortable leaning against the door, trying to ease the adrenaline that was pulsing through him. He watched Murray and Grayson cross the street toward the store, which was lit up with signs declaring all kinds of Christmas sales.

He loved the little town square with its tower clock and its swept streets. Every store glowed with holiday lights and festive decorations. Shoppers traveled from store to store, managing their shopping bags.

A heavy thought hit him. Frank’s Christmas gift. He’d gotten it online a month ago. It was some gadget that projected movies from a tiny device onto any surface. The guy at the store said it was the hot new gadget for the holidays.

Frank spent every Christmas with them, bringing over loads of presents for the kids and thoughtful ones for him and Kay. What was Christmas going to be like without Frank there?

He blew out the sorrow and watched the men approach RadioShack. The front door opened, and a man fitting the description of Toledo came out, zipping up a lightweight navy coat.

He glanced up, noticing Grayson first, then Murray. Damien took a couple steps forward, hoping to hear at least part of the exchange.

Grayson waved at the man. “You Mike Toledo?”

Suddenly the man bolted, dropping his bags and racing the opposite direction.

Damien couldn’t help himself. He took off in a run as Grayson called for backup and Murray chased Toledo. Barely dodging an oncoming car, Damien made his way across the street, about ten yards behind Murray.

Toledo knocked against shoppers as he raced toward an alley. More shouting from the police and Grayson. Damien rounded the corner after Murray.

Toledo had hit a fence and was scrambling up the chain link when Murray caught the bottom of his pants and dragged him off. Toledo fell against the concrete with a thud and rolled over, groaning. Murray accosted him, followed shortly by Grayson, who drilled a knee into his backbone. Within seconds, he was cuffed.

“Something you want to run from?” Grayson growled, yanking him to his feet.

 

***

 

Edgar laughed heartily, slapping his hands against his desk. “Whew! It just doesn’t get any better than this.”

Damien crossed his arms, trying to keep his hands from fidgeting.

“An eyewitness account,” Edgar continued, smiling. “This is stellar. The way you put in these details, it’s like I’m right there. Any new information since the story broke?”

“No. They’re pretty quiet over there right now. They let me stay for the interrogation of Angela because I brought the conversation to their attention. I’m assuming they’re interrogating Mr. Toledo and probably getting a warrant to search his premises.” Damien sighed. “Frank was always my inside guy there, so I don’t know anything more than that.”

“That’s okay. This is good for now.” Edgar’s smile faded. “Listen, um, why don’t you shut the door for a sec.”

Damien hesitated, then shut it. “What’s going on?”

“First of all, I know this has been a hard few days for you. Frank’s death was an incredible tragedy for this town but most especially for you.”

Damien agreed.

“But this is a newspaper, and we’ve got to run with the story.”

“I understand. Of course we’ve got to cover this. I’m glad you let me write it.”

“There’s another side to this story, Damien.”

Damien searched Edgar’s face. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Edgar waited. “That Frank might’ve been the person behind the Web site.”

Damien slammed his fists against the chair he stood behind. “What are you talking about? It’s only a rumor! Frank is not behind it.”

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