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.”

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