Блейк Пирс: If She Knew

“And why not?”

“Because there’s a code for the security system that only Julie, myself, and our cleaning lady knows. We change it every two months.”

“Any suspicion about the cleaning lady or her family?”

“Well, she’s pushing sixty and we don’t know her family. The police were looking into it but found nothing.”

“Well, how about you?” Kate asked. “Is there anyone you can think of that would have even considered doing this?”

He shook his head without giving it much thought. “I’ve spent every waking moment since I came home and found her body trying to think of someone who would have any reason to kill her—to even be angry with her. And I keep coming up blank.” He paused here and then looked at her skeptically. “You said you’re retired. So why are you so interested in this case?”

She gave the only answer that would be acceptable. “I just wanted to do everything I could to ease Debbie’s mind.”

She knew that there was a deeper truth, though. And it was a selfish one.

Because being just a little involved in this case is the most purposeful I’ve felt since I retired a year ago.

“Well, I appreciate your help,” Tyler said. “And if you need anything else from me, please let me know.”

“I will,” she said as she gave him a lame sympathetic clap on the back and left him to his sorrow. The truth was, though, that she doubted she’d ever speak to him again. She’d been an agent long enough to know an innocent and truly heartbroken man when she saw one. She’d bet everything she owned on the fact that Tyler Hicks had not killed his wife. She already felt terrible for hijacking him after his wife’s funeral. She’d stay away from Tyler from this point on; if he could be of any further help, let the cops handle it.

She went to her car and pulled out into the slumbering line of traffic that was leaving the graveyard. She drove back toward her house in silence, her thoughts continually drifting to Melissa and her forthcoming granddaughter.

Her phone rang, obliterating the train of thought. There was a number, not a name, on the display screen. She answered it suspiciously, still shaken over the funeral and how the experience was making her think long and hard about her own daughter.

“Kate Wise?” a man on the other end asked.

“Yes, this is Kate,” she said.

“This is Randall Budd. How are you?”

“Somber,” she answered honestly, a little pissed that she was having to speak to Chief Budd in that particular moment.

“You go to the funeral today?” he asked.

She was rather surprised that he even knew Julie had been buried today. Maybe she should cut the guy some slack after all. “Yeah,” she answered. “Just left about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Well, look. I wanted to call to let you know that at about eight o’clock this morning, we got an anonymous tip. An arrest was made in the death of Julie Hicks. We’ve still got the guy here in interrogation. Some guy that came out to fix their Internet a few weeks back. He’s got some intimate knowledge of the family and he has a previous arrest record for—get this—sexual misconduct. We’re looking into his story and accounts and it all looks solid.”

“Who is it?”

Budd sighed, a sound that was like static electricity through the phone. “Ms. Wise, you know I can’t tell you that.”

“Of course you can. I’ll do nothing with the information other than try to help you.”

“Yes, but with all due respect, I have not asked for your help.”

“Can you at least tell me if the suspect knew the victim personally?”

The other end of the line was quiet for about three seconds, finally broken by a thick sigh and Budd’s voice saying: “No.”

She almost pushed harder but left it at that. If she really wanted to know, all she’d have to do was place a call to Logan. It would be a cheap thing to do but at least the option was there.

“And it’s looking like he’s the guy?”

“It’s certainly a possibility,” Budd said. “Once we have enough to book him for it, we’re going to notify Debbie and Jim Meade. So please keep it to yourself for now. I just thought I’d do you the courtesy of knowing…in the hopes that you don’t go all vigilante on us again.”

“Thanks for that,” she said. “Have a good day, Chief.”

She hung up with a sense of relief. Case closed. That was a good thing. Now Debbie and Jim could maybe begin to start looking at what grieving was like with closure involved.

But then she thought about what Tyler Hicks had said about the security code. And even the things he had not said. About how someone would have to know how to get in unseen. How someone would have to know the family well enough to get inside the house after dark, past the security measures and locked doors.

By the time she got back to her house in Carytown, that relief was gone. If anything, it had morphed into an entirely new kind of certainty.

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