Allison Brennan - Sudden Death

Megan asked, “One more thing. Do you have a ballistics report handy?”

“There’s one in here somewhere. It’s in the log. Why?”

“This is a big favor, I know, but the murders I’m currently working aren’t yet logged in AFIS.” Not one hundred percent true-Johnson and Perry were in AFIS, but they only matched each other, not any other ballistics in the system. But Megan was convinced that Russo was connected to these murders, if only by the thin thread of AWOL soldier George Price’s statement, which said he had left his dog tags with Russo. “I’d like to get the crime techs something to compare with ASAP. Can you fax or e-mail the reports to a couple different counties?”

“I’ll do it,” Zarian said. “Where?”

“Texas Rangers based in McAllen, attention Ranger Hern; Riverside County Sheriff’s Department, attention Deputy Sheriff Warren; Santa Barbara County Forensics Unit, attention Dr. Ian Clark.”

“That it?” He sounded irritated. It was grunt work, but it had to be done.

She was about to say yes, but then realized that Sacramento wouldn’t have had time to run ballistics since CID returned John Doe’s body. “Sacramento Crime Lab, attention Simone Charles. I’ll e-mail you the contact numbers.”

“Thanks. I’ll get on this now. We’re short-staffed right now. How can I reach you later? This number?”

“I’m on my way to interview a witness, but you can leave a message or e-mail me.” She was still angry with Hans about this assignment. There was no reason she should be spending three hours on the road-ninety minutes each way-to interview a witness when it would have been easier to send a lower-ranking agent or to call the SLO sheriff and ask him to send a deputy over. Megan would have been happy to brief the officer. It was more than obvious Hans didn’t want her around, and it both pissed her off and upset her. That he had gone to Rick Stockton-her boss’s boss! — made her stomach queasy, and the fact that he refused to even discuss the matter made it worse.

Zarian said, “I just sent you the contact information for the neighbor, Mrs. Anne Lyons.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate your help.” She hung up and asked her driver, Officer Barbara Dodge, how long before they arrived. “We’re in the city limits. Five, ten minutes probably.”

“Thanks,” Megan said and dialed Mrs. Anne Lyons. She wasn’t holding out hope that Mrs. Lyons would be home, so was pleasantly surprised when an elderly female voice identifying herself as Anne Lyons answered.

“Mrs. Lyons, my name is Megan Elliott. I’m an FBI agent in Sacramento, California. I have some questions regarding your neighbor, Kenneth Russo.”

“Kenny? What a nice man. A tragedy. We’ve always had a safe neighborhood. And then, well, many of my friends moved after that horrible incident.”

“Yes, ma’am. I-”

She interrupted. “Have you found the person who killed him?”

“Not yet, but-”

“The police were very nice, very diligent, but they don’t come by anymore.”

A cold case robbery/homicide after nearly ten months wasn’t going to keep the police on their toes, Megan knew. There were plenty of crimes to solve.

“Yes, ma’am. I’m following up on a lead-”

“All the way from California?”

“Yes.” Before the witness could interrupt again, Megan spoke quickly. “My colleague in Orlando reviewed your statement and you mentioned that you saw Ken Russo come home alone the night he was murdered. Did he normally bring someone home with him? A girlfriend?”

“Kenny was a handsome retired military officer. Always helped me take my garbage out, fixed my fence when it fell down in that awful storm three years ago. Of course there were always women who wanted to go out with him. He was a confirmed bachelor, though. Enjoyed the ladies, of course, but he liked to ‘play the field,’ as you kids say now.”

Megan wasn’t sure she’d use that phrase. She asked, “Did he have a regular girlfriend? Or do you remember who he was seeing when he was killed?”

“You aren’t suggesting that one of his girlfriends had something to do with his murder! It was a burglary. They took his computer, his camera, his money-”

“You knew he had money in the house?”

“That’s what the police said. They asked me about it, so I assumed he had some money.”

“And his girlfriends?”

“Well, all the ladies here wanted to date him, but he was too young.”

“Excuse me,” Megan asked, “what type of community do you live in?”

“It’s a private, gated community. Active Fifty. No minors. Joe and Liz have a college-aged daughter living with them, but-”

The community was gated? Why hadn’t Zarian mentioned that fact?

“Were there any other burglaries in your community around the time Mr. Russo was robbed and killed?”

“Goodness no. This is one of the safest areas of Orlando. Well, there was Sergio Roper. He’s senile. He used to go into houses at random and make himself lunch. Walked in one afternoon while I was napping. I woke up and found him eating a ham and cheese sandwich in my kitchen-”

“Mrs. Lyons, you’re saying that Mr. Russo’s was the only major robbery in the community?”

“Yes, dear.”

“And his girlfriend?”

“Poor thing, his girlfriend broke up with him right before. They had a rather public argument, and she left crying.”

“When was that?”

“Oh, gosh, I’m not sure. A week or two before Kenny was murdered. I called her to tell her, and she was heartbroken. I thought there was something special between them. But she couldn’t come to the funeral. She had taken a job out of state. That’s what the fight was about, apparently. She wanted him to move with her, and Kenny, he was happy with us old folks. He was only fifty-three, but he was an old soul.”

“Do you have her name? Contact information?”

“In my address book. Just a minute.”

Several minutes later, Mrs. Lyons came on the phone. “Hannah.”

“Hannah what?”

“I don’t have her last name, but here’s the number.”

After Mrs. Lyons recited the digits, Megan said, “That’s a New York exchange.”

“She’s from New York, and she went back. It was her cell phone-I hear you can keep the same number no matter where you move. Isn’t that amazing?” Without waiting for an answer, she continued. “Hannah had moved here to be with her parents, who were getting on in years and needed some help. Isn’t that just the sweetest thing? I know so many people who have children too busy to even visit, let alone help with grocery shopping and transportation. I can’t drive anymore because of my eyes.”

“I’m sorry,” Megan said as she finished writing down information. “Your eyes?”

“I’m blind. Well, not blind as a bat, but I can’t see more than two feet in front of me even with my glasses. So you can understand why I would love to have some help, but I never was able to have children. Though some of my friends have several children and none of their kids help out-”

“Mrs. Lyons, I really appreciate your time and information. I may call you again, if that’s okay.”

“Yes, of course, anytime. Please.”

“One more thing, how long was Mr. Russo involved with Hannah?”

“Several months. They met at a community mixer.”

“How old is she, would you say?”

“Young. Forty, forty-five.”

“I thought you had to be fifty to live there?”

“Yes, but she was taking care of her parents-didn’t I say that? I’m sure I did.”

“Are her parents still there?”

“Oh no, when Hannah left for her new job, they went to a nursing home. They were in their eighties, I think Bernard was close to ninety. He had a pretty good head, but didn’t say much of anything. Millie had advanced Alzheimer’s. Couldn’t remember anything, bless her heart. I don’t blame Hannah for moving on. Bernard never made much money working for the county, though they had a nice retirement. I think Hannah was struggling to make sure their bills were paid. Before Millie was diagnosed, she’d bought thousands of dollars of stuff she didn’t need off that shopping channel. Finally, Bernard cut up the credit cards. At least, that’s what I heard. “