Leann Harris - The Detective And The D.A.

He got out of the car, closed the door and walked to the next house.

Kelly rushed into the little burger joint tucked on the edge of downtown. She needed to talk to Ash and had called his office, but had been informed he was at dinner. They had told her where.

The evening traffic in this place was strictly folks who worked late at the jail, D.A.’s office and city hall. She immediately spotted Ash in a corner. Their corner booth. When they’d been married, they had often come to this little place for a quick meal together. Since the divorce, she’d only been here once. She walked over to the table. In the past two days, she’d visited too many of their old haunts for comfort.

“Well, Ash, you’ve lived up to your reputation,” she blurted out, not wanting to think about the past.

He rested his arm on the booth behind him. “Exactly what reputation is that? All-around pain in the butt or the tenacious detective?”

“I heard you’ve been cutting a wide swath through the upper crust of Houston society these last forty-eight hours.”

He cocked his head. “Is that what you heard?”

“From more than one source.” She leaned forward, not wanting everyone in the place to hear her answer. “You simply can’t bludgeon these folks, Ash.” The smell of his hamburger wafted over her and made her stomach growl.

“Sit down, Kelly. I’d planned on going by your office tomorrow, but since you’re here—” he shrugged “—we can talk about what I’ve discovered these past two days.”

She didn’t like the tone of his voice or the look in his eyes. She slid into the booth opposite him.

“I told you that I probably wasn’t the best man for this job. And as I recall, you didn’t object to my directness. You wanted it.”

She held up her hand. “You’re right. And you gave it to me in spades. I’ve heard from Catherine’s parents about you asking their friends and neighbors ugly and tasteless questions about the status of their daughter’s marriage.”

Ash grinned, obviously pleased with himself. “Tasteless? But true.”

She ignored him. “And I’ve heard from Mr. Reed that you weren’t very civil to his fiancée. I think Andrew Reed said you were as cordial as a damn carpet-bagger. I assured him that you were a native Texan and had grown up in Galveston.”

“What did he say, Kelly?”

“When I told him you were a native, he wondered why you didn’t have more genteel Southern manners. Then he decided you must’ve come from poor white tr—people.”

His wicked smile appeared. “What did you tell him?”

“What I wanted to tell him was he was a snob and to stick his opinion in his ear. But what I said was that if he wanted his wife’s murder solved and Mr. Carlson back in jail, he needed to cooperate with you and not worry about your manners.”

“What Mr. Reed is upset about is me discovering that he was fooling around with Catherine’s best friend. He’s probably worried that his spotless reputation with his in-laws might be tarnished.”

She sighed in disgust. “So that’s how the wind was blowing.”

“Indeed. Convenient that Steve Carlson confessed to the burglary. It prevented a lot of dirty laundry from being aired.”

“This just gets better and better,” she murmured. Her stomach growled again.

He handed her one of his fries. “Here, start on this while I order you dinner.” Ash turned to the man behind the counter and yelled, “Mark, I need another burger.”

“And onion rings and a Coke,” she added.

A twinkle of mischief sparkled in his eyes. After he yelled out the additional items, he settled back against the booth.

“All right, Ash, what have you got?”

He handed her another fry. “Andrew Reed is going to remarry next week.”

“Why would that be a problem?”

“He was not a happy camper when I showed up. In that house, there was not a picture of Catherine Reed anywhere to be found.”

“Reed, it’s been five years.”

He leaned closer. “I’ve thought about it. But wouldn’t it make sense that some trace, some memento of his dead wife, of their time together would be around? I mean he played the grieving husband to the hilt at the funeral and trial.”

“Why do you find that so unusual?”

“When my mother died, my dad kept her pictures all over that house until he passed away three years later.”

She frowned. “But Andrew’s case is different. Because of the heinousness of the crime, I wouldn’t expect him to have pictures of her around. Just like a divorced couple, I wouldn’t expect either partner to have things around to remind them of their ex.”

He didn’t respond and Kelly’s nerves were on alert. Had he—? She swallowed hard. “Maybe there’s something there you didn’t know about. A piece of furniture or picture, something that you wouldn’t know about.”

Mark showed up with the burger and onion rings. He winked at them. “Never thought I’d see you two again, sitting with each other.”

Kelly’s eyes widened.

“We’re working on a case, Mark,” Ash explained.

“Oh, is that what those vibes were I felt coming from here? Hey, maybe I should get into police work.”

This was the second time within a week that someone had commented on them being together. She stared down at her burger. Confusion rumbled around her head. What was going on?

“The point I’m trying to make, Kelly, is that Andrew’s neighbors said that within weeks of the murder, he had someone come in and redo the entire house. Nothing of Catherine remains.”

She took a bite of her burger and thought. “Still, Ash, it’s not that unusual a response to a death. A violent death.”

“Well, you wanted my gut reaction in this case. There it is. Also, this fiancée is the second one he’s had since his wife died. The society woman he was seeing while Catherine was alive expected to be the next Mrs. Reed. She was very shocked when Andrew dumped her.”

“Ash, I wish I could charge Andrew Reed with being a louse, but we generally don’t prosecute things like that. If we did, I’d have to charge over half the male population of the city with it.”

“When I interviewed the neighbors, I got a picture of a couple that fought frequently. Loud. Yelling and slamming of doors going in and out of their house. I also discovered Mr. Reed liked to spend money. And his business wasn’t doing well.”

Kelly lost her appetite. She pushed away her plate. “Why didn’t Ralph Lee come up with this evidence?”

“Because he conveniently had a suspect that had confessed.”

“You’re going to need to go back and talk to Steve Carlson, again.”

“You want to go with me?”

“Yes, that way no one can accuse you of being biased if I’m there to watch and record the interview.”

“Let’s do it now.”

There wasn’t a reason on earth they couldn’t do it tonight. Except it meant spending more time with Ash, at night, surrounded by darkness and breeding an air of intimacy. “All right, I’ll follow you to his apartment.”

“Don’t trust my driving, Kelly?”

“When the interview is finished, I can go home. It’s got nothing to do with your driving.”

And it had nothing to do with spending time in a car with him. Nothing at all.

When they arrived at the apartment building where Steve Carlson lived, they parked in the dimly lit lot. Several people stared at them as they walked up the outside stairs to the second-floor apartment. Ash knocked. There was no response.

“He’s there,” a little girl told them as she moved away from the door of her second-floor apartment.

Kelly smiled at the child. “How do you know?”

“I saw him let another man inside. Then they started to yell. Later, the man came out, but the other man didn’t.” She shrugged, then started to jump rope.