Carolyn Arnold - McKinley 03 - Money is Murder (10 page)

In A Race For Answers

SARA GLANCED OVER HER SHOULDER, down the empty hallway. No one seemed curious about all the noise, or what was going on, not that it surprised
her. The natural response to hearing gunfire was to find a safe corner and hide.

She went inside Robert
’s apartment.

He was lying on the entry floor, his head lolled to the side, his eyes glazed over. One bullet had entered to the top of where his heart would be and the other a couple inches below it. The scene reminded her of a homicide they had been assigned back in Albany a few months back.

As Sara got down next to Robert, she was careful to avoid any contamination. She pressed her fingers on his carotid, closed her eyes and wished for a pulse.

The shooter headed down a back alley and split his time between looking ahead and glancing behind. Every time he assessed his lead, his pace faltered slightly.

“Stop! I know who you are!” Sean called out the bluff in the hopes of getting the shooter to stall. The mind had the ability to halt progress. He wanted to manipulate the perp’s to work in his favor.

He stopped for the fragment of a second, but then went back into a full run.

Sean looked ahead. It was a dead end. A chain-link fence stretched across the alleyway. A dumpster was to the right, against a building.

The shooter
’s stride hiccupped when a collection of garbage cans nearly had him falling forward, face to pavement.

Sean used the opening and willed more power into his legs, pulling from deep within and accelerating his pace.

He reached out and graced the hood again, but this time he managed to get a firm hold. He yanked back and the perp let out a squeal then reached out to rip free of Sean
’s grip.

Their high-pitched cry slowed Sean
’s movements. Did he hear what he thought he had?

His indecision was enough.

He lost his hold and the perp hopped up onto the dumpster, then ran into the freedom of the alley on the other side.

Sean entered the apartment to find Sara kneeling next to Robert.

“Darling.” Sara stood and wrapped her arms around him.

He lowered his forehead against hers.

“Are you okay?”

He held her face and kissed her.
“I’m fine now.”

“Thank God. It’s more than we can say for Robert, though. I took his pulse when I got here. He was already gone. I knew we should have left him his gun. I had a bad feeling.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. We didn’t shoot him.” He made sure to look into her eyes. “Right? You know that, hon.”

Her eye contact was cold at first, but seemed to soften as she nodded.
“I know.” Her gaze went to Robert and then back to Sean. “I take it you never caught up to him.”

“Or her?”

“Her?”

“Well, the shooter never spoke, but when I got a hold of their hoodie and yanked back, they called out. I could have sworn it was a woman.”

“A woman?” Sara glanced at the couch that was straight behind the front entry, obviously giving consideration to taking a seat. “I thought we were leaning towards Adam?”

“Well, unless he squeals like a girl, it wasn’t him.”

“Hmm.” Sara chewed on the inside of her cheek. “Who would want Robert dead?”

“Good question. We’re going to have to call the police. What about the USB stick?”

Sara shook her head.
“Not a sign of it anywhere.” She paused a moment, thoughts reflecting in her eyes. “What woman would want Robert dead, and could she also have killed Cindy, or is it even related?”

“I think we’d have to agree it’s all connected. What about Robert’s assistant? What was her name?”

“Daniela, but I didn’t get that read off of her. Know what I mean? She wouldn’t have confessed to covering for him if she was a cold-blooded killer.”

“I suppose, and what would her motive be?”

“This has to do with that company, Reid.”

“We’re going to have to talk to Edward Cranston about the account.”

“But we’re not sure he’s in the clear with this.”

“I’m not sure how else to go about things. We don’t fully trust Adam either.”

“Why don’t we go do some research on the company first and we’ll go from there? Maybe Jimmy will have answers back about the doorman and Benson, and whether they were paid off.”

Sean pulled out his cell phone and dialed the police.

Questionable Actions

“WHY AM I NOT SURPRISED by your being here?” Detective Benson was out in the hall with Sean and Sara.

She watched the way he stood, the angle of his hips, the manner in which he shifted position from the left leg to the right pretty much every thirty seconds, like clockwork. He either had a hip problem or a knee issue. But it wasn
’t his physical deficiencies that had her true attention. It was his overuse of eye contact. It was a compensation, but for what? It was quite likely she wouldn’t know the answer to that until she had more to go on. Right now any suspicion she had about the man had to be muted to the background as inconsequential.

“It’s just like we’ve told you a few times,” Sean said. “We showed up to talk to him and found him like this.”

“You didn’t see anything else?”

“I told you that too. I almost had the shooter, but they got away.”

“They? A guy or a girl?”

Sara
’s eyes snapped to Benson. She was thankful he was focused on Sean. She found it interesting he would raise the question of whether the perp was a female. Typically murders carried out in this manner were executed by men. The drugging of Cindy Quinn? Sara could believe a woman was behind that, but a shooting? If it wasn’t for Sean’s discovery, it wouldn’t have been her first leap.

“So you chased
this person
down the stairs and out into the back alleyway.”

“Your crime scene people are working the stairwell. They’ll find the bullet.”

“I have no doubt of it.” Benson’s tone was dry and incredulous. He looked down at the notebook he held and flipped the page. “And if I have any further questions, where can I find you?”

“The Universal Acquisitions’ condo building,” Sean said.

“I should have known.” Benson pressed on a smile and tucked the pad into his jacket pocket. “There’s no reason the two of you need to stick around.”

The coroner came out, pushing a gurney with Robert
’s body, encased in a black bag. He greeted them with a slight dip of his head. His assistant, who was helping him, pressed his lips in a grim acknowledgement.

Benson
’s attention went from the body back to Sean. “If you think of anything, you will call?”

“You have my word.” Sean turned to Sara and cupped her elbow. “Come on, darling, we wouldn’t want to get in the way of the man’s job.”

“Of course not.” Sara smiled at Benson but it was met with a small quiver of the mouth, a snarl perhaps.

Sean hustled Sara to the street where he hailed down a taxi.

“Why didn’t you tell him you thought it was a woman?” she asked.

“We’re not sure whether Benson’s involved with all of this, remember? If we let him know about it being a woman, he could warn her.”

A yellow cab pulled to the curb and Sean held the door open.

Sara slid across the seat.
“Where to now?”

“Back to our condo to find out all we can about Reid.”

“We should have given Robert back his gun.”

“There was no way we could have anticipated this.” Sean reached for her hand. “And, even if he did have a weapon, it doesn’t mean he’d be alive now.”

She shook her head.
“No, you’re wrong. I knew.”

“You felt it. There is a difference.”

“I suppose.”

“And you’re definitely not the one who pulled the trigger.”

“You got me there.”

He detected the faint smile dust her lips. As much as they didn
’t want to sit around and do nothing, maybe some downtime would be nice.

“What do you say to a vacation after all this is over?”

It elicited the reaction he thought it might. Sara laughed, her nose wrinkling up.

His cell rang, interrupting the moment. He held the phone from his head, pointed at it and said,
“It’s Jimmy.” Back into the phone. “Oh really? And you’re certain? Yes, I know you better than that. Thank you again. Yes, a big bottle of scotch. Not a cheap brand.”

Jimmy was becoming quite the extortionist, but Sean was fine with the terms when it netted the type of exchange it just had.

Sara shifted her position to better face him.
“What did he say?”

“He said that there were large deposits made in both Benson’s bank account and the one belonging to the doorman from Cindy’s building.”

“Does he know where it came from?”

“No.”

“Oh, Sean, how are we supposed to figure this out?”

“Like we always do—together.” He ran a hand down her hair and smiled at her. “With the two of us, anything is
possible.
”