Read Online An Intimate Murder (The Catherine O'Brien Series) by Stacy Verdick Case - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stacy Verdick Case
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smooth her hackles back down, than a genuine show of courtesy. “We’re not trying to dig ourselves out of a hole. We haven’t had time to dig a hole yet.”
Louise and Ms. Trainor exchanged raised eyebrow looks. Louise grinned and then Trainor’s face split into a full smile.
“What?”
Trainor snickered and Louise laughed. I rolled back the last words out of my mouth. Understanding slapped me across the face.
“Give us a little more time and I’m sure we can really screw up the investigation.” I joined their reverie.
Liz Trainor set the phone back in its cradle. “I don’t mean to be a hard ass but I need to know that Jonathan’s investigation isn’t being handed off to someone with their head up their butt.” She gestured toward the door. “Half the people in the other room were brought in here and trained by Jonathan. My business wouldn’t be the success it is without Jonathan.”
She sat back and studied us as if she stared long enough the answers of the universe would appear on our foreheads. Her gaze rested an extra long time on my face. She looked away for a brief moment then back at me again, this time her brow smoothed.
“I’ll tell you what, Detectives. I’m going to allow you go through Jon’s desk and question my employees.”
I opened my mouth to utter a grateful thanks but Liz Trainor interrupted before the sounds would come out.
“Two conditions. One –” She held up both of her index fingers. “You cannot browbeat my employees into speaking to you. They must volunteer.”
“Of course,” Louise said. “What’s the other condition?”
“The second condition.” She closed her eyes. “God help me for saying this; if you find out that Jonathan was involved in something illegal, you don’t embarrass this company. I want to hear about what you find first, not read about it in tomorrow’s paper.”
She flicked her gaze to me as if I would have some particular interest in talking to the newspaper. Probably to cover my own ass, if she still believed that I needed a fanny shield. All she had was my word and a shared laugh (not much comfort at the best of times) to tell her any different.
“Agreed,” I said. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you’d like to say?”
She cocked her head. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you looked at me funny a few minutes ago. Like you might know me.”
“Yeah.” The rolls on her neck contracted and expanded with the bobbing of her head. “I think I do know you.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. We’ve never met before.”
“No, we haven’t,” she agreed. “But I do know you and not just from the paper. You’re Gavin O’Brien’s wife aren’t you?”
A shockwave thundered through me at the sound of Gavin’s name. It was the same feeling I get when Gavin runs into friends when we’re shopping, or out for dinner. Gavin has a whole world away from me, and he knows people I don’t. That thought disturbed me.
Of course, I knew people he didn’t, too. Par for the course when you both work outside the home. I saw him every morning when I left and there he was every evening when I got home. There’s a little piece of my brain that takes over from time to time—it’s only purpose is to delude me and doesn’t like to be confronted with reality. That section of gray matter makes me believe that Gavin sits at home hermetically sealed until my key turns in the lock to reanimate him.
Yet here was reality, in the form of an overweight, overly perfumed, real-estate agent.
“Yes, I am.”
“I thought so.” Liz Trainor nodded satisfied. “I usually have a good memory for faces. It helps in this job.”
“Then the two of you have met?” Louise asked.
“No.” Liz said.
I shook my head at the same time.
“Then how did you know she was married to Gavin?”
Thank God, Louise was there to ask all the questions I would kick myself later for not asking. Now, I was too stunned to form a complete thought.
“I
Louise and Ms. Trainor exchanged raised eyebrow looks. Louise grinned and then Trainor’s face split into a full smile.
“What?”
Trainor snickered and Louise laughed. I rolled back the last words out of my mouth. Understanding slapped me across the face.
“Give us a little more time and I’m sure we can really screw up the investigation.” I joined their reverie.
Liz Trainor set the phone back in its cradle. “I don’t mean to be a hard ass but I need to know that Jonathan’s investigation isn’t being handed off to someone with their head up their butt.” She gestured toward the door. “Half the people in the other room were brought in here and trained by Jonathan. My business wouldn’t be the success it is without Jonathan.”
She sat back and studied us as if she stared long enough the answers of the universe would appear on our foreheads. Her gaze rested an extra long time on my face. She looked away for a brief moment then back at me again, this time her brow smoothed.
“I’ll tell you what, Detectives. I’m going to allow you go through Jon’s desk and question my employees.”
I opened my mouth to utter a grateful thanks but Liz Trainor interrupted before the sounds would come out.
“Two conditions. One –” She held up both of her index fingers. “You cannot browbeat my employees into speaking to you. They must volunteer.”
“Of course,” Louise said. “What’s the other condition?”
“The second condition.” She closed her eyes. “God help me for saying this; if you find out that Jonathan was involved in something illegal, you don’t embarrass this company. I want to hear about what you find first, not read about it in tomorrow’s paper.”
She flicked her gaze to me as if I would have some particular interest in talking to the newspaper. Probably to cover my own ass, if she still believed that I needed a fanny shield. All she had was my word and a shared laugh (not much comfort at the best of times) to tell her any different.
“Agreed,” I said. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you’d like to say?”
She cocked her head. “Why do you ask?”
“Because you looked at me funny a few minutes ago. Like you might know me.”
“Yeah.” The rolls on her neck contracted and expanded with the bobbing of her head. “I think I do know you.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. We’ve never met before.”
“No, we haven’t,” she agreed. “But I do know you and not just from the paper. You’re Gavin O’Brien’s wife aren’t you?”
A shockwave thundered through me at the sound of Gavin’s name. It was the same feeling I get when Gavin runs into friends when we’re shopping, or out for dinner. Gavin has a whole world away from me, and he knows people I don’t. That thought disturbed me.
Of course, I knew people he didn’t, too. Par for the course when you both work outside the home. I saw him every morning when I left and there he was every evening when I got home. There’s a little piece of my brain that takes over from time to time—it’s only purpose is to delude me and doesn’t like to be confronted with reality. That section of gray matter makes me believe that Gavin sits at home hermetically sealed until my key turns in the lock to reanimate him.
Yet here was reality, in the form of an overweight, overly perfumed, real-estate agent.
“Yes, I am.”
“I thought so.” Liz Trainor nodded satisfied. “I usually have a good memory for faces. It helps in this job.”
“Then the two of you have met?” Louise asked.
“No.” Liz said.
I shook my head at the same time.
“Then how did you know she was married to Gavin?”
Thank God, Louise was there to ask all the questions I would kick myself later for not asking. Now, I was too stunned to form a complete thought.
“I
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