Read Online Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 6) by Jennifer L. Jennings - Free Book Online
Authors: Jennifer L. Jennings
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pants.
Finally, like a slap on the face, the realization hit me. This had to be the guy Lois described driving the stolen pickup.
“Who are you?” I asked, keeping a straight, authoritative posture.
His brown eyes penetrated mine as he held out his hand. “Name's Mick Kendall. I'm Claire's father.”
Momentarily stunned, I didn't know how to respond. I said the first thing that came into my mind. “I thought you were in prison.”
“Sounds like you know more about me than I know about you but to answer your question, I got out a few months ago.” He withdrew his hand, letting it rest by his side. “I didn't catch your name.”
“I didn't give it to you.” I surmised he'd followed me here from Lois and Claire's house. I just didn't know what his intentions were.
I searched up and down the aisle to make sure no one was around. I didn't trust this guy, but I figured he wouldn't pull anything funny in a public place. I kept my distance.
He chuckled. “What? You afraid I'm gonna hurt you? Believe me, I just got out of prison. I'm not looking to go back.”
“What do you want?”
“Claire never got to work this morning. I think she might be in trouble. Who are you and why have you been at my daughter's house all day?”
He was acting like he had no idea that Claire was dead, and it wasn't my place to tell him. “You should speak with Detective James. He'll give you the details.”
A pause. “Is he a homicide detective?”
I nodded.
He closed his eyes and bowed his head. It took a moment for him to say, “How did it happen?”
“I'm not allowed to disclose that information. I'm sorry.”
With pursed lips, he finally opened his eyes to meet my gaze. “I'm her father. I have a right to know.”
I glanced around, wondering if we were alone. I had an uneasy feeling about this but what could I do? Walk away? No, that seemed too heartless.
Mick blinked away tears, fighting to keep his composure. “Look, could you throw me a bone, at least? I can't go to the police.”
“Why? Is it because you've been driving around in a stolen truck?”
He sighed. “Okay, I deserve that.”
“So you admit that you drove by Claire's house earlier?”
“When Claire didn't show up for work I had a feeling something was wrong. I've been circling the neighborhood all morning.”
I failed to mention there was an APB out on the truck. “How do I even know you're Claire's father?”
He reached into his back jeans pocket and produced a wallet. He showed me his license and an old photograph. “That's me and Claire when she was ten.”
He gave me the photo, and I examined it. Father and daughter were holding hands on a beach. Mick looked a lot younger and had no facial hair. Claire was all elbows and knees, with braces and long black hair. They seemed happy, playing in the sun.
“That was taken a year before her mother passed away. Our lives went to hell after that. My son Adam needed a lot of attention, and I couldn't handle it most of the time. Claire stepped in and took care of him as best she could.”
This man might have been riddled with guilt, but that was his problem. My main focus right now was Claire. “Your daughter was last seen getting into a blue pickup truck yesterday afternoon around four. A few hours later, she's dead. I don't mean to sound accusatory but would you care to explain?”
He held up his hands in defeat. “Look, I got out of prison a few month ago and I've been trying to get back into Claire's life. Hasn't been easy, but I figured she'd forgive me eventually.”
“Forgive you for what?”
“I was convicted of voluntary manslaughter eight years ago. If you want the details, go talk to my PO.”
“Tell me what happened after Claire got into your car yesterday. Where did you go?”
He stared at the gray tile floor, hands in pockets. “I've been driving by her house most afternoons after she gets home from work. The first few times she refused to speak to me, but I kept at it. I
Finally, like a slap on the face, the realization hit me. This had to be the guy Lois described driving the stolen pickup.
“Who are you?” I asked, keeping a straight, authoritative posture.
His brown eyes penetrated mine as he held out his hand. “Name's Mick Kendall. I'm Claire's father.”
Momentarily stunned, I didn't know how to respond. I said the first thing that came into my mind. “I thought you were in prison.”
“Sounds like you know more about me than I know about you but to answer your question, I got out a few months ago.” He withdrew his hand, letting it rest by his side. “I didn't catch your name.”
“I didn't give it to you.” I surmised he'd followed me here from Lois and Claire's house. I just didn't know what his intentions were.
I searched up and down the aisle to make sure no one was around. I didn't trust this guy, but I figured he wouldn't pull anything funny in a public place. I kept my distance.
He chuckled. “What? You afraid I'm gonna hurt you? Believe me, I just got out of prison. I'm not looking to go back.”
“What do you want?”
“Claire never got to work this morning. I think she might be in trouble. Who are you and why have you been at my daughter's house all day?”
He was acting like he had no idea that Claire was dead, and it wasn't my place to tell him. “You should speak with Detective James. He'll give you the details.”
A pause. “Is he a homicide detective?”
I nodded.
He closed his eyes and bowed his head. It took a moment for him to say, “How did it happen?”
“I'm not allowed to disclose that information. I'm sorry.”
With pursed lips, he finally opened his eyes to meet my gaze. “I'm her father. I have a right to know.”
I glanced around, wondering if we were alone. I had an uneasy feeling about this but what could I do? Walk away? No, that seemed too heartless.
Mick blinked away tears, fighting to keep his composure. “Look, could you throw me a bone, at least? I can't go to the police.”
“Why? Is it because you've been driving around in a stolen truck?”
He sighed. “Okay, I deserve that.”
“So you admit that you drove by Claire's house earlier?”
“When Claire didn't show up for work I had a feeling something was wrong. I've been circling the neighborhood all morning.”
I failed to mention there was an APB out on the truck. “How do I even know you're Claire's father?”
He reached into his back jeans pocket and produced a wallet. He showed me his license and an old photograph. “That's me and Claire when she was ten.”
He gave me the photo, and I examined it. Father and daughter were holding hands on a beach. Mick looked a lot younger and had no facial hair. Claire was all elbows and knees, with braces and long black hair. They seemed happy, playing in the sun.
“That was taken a year before her mother passed away. Our lives went to hell after that. My son Adam needed a lot of attention, and I couldn't handle it most of the time. Claire stepped in and took care of him as best she could.”
This man might have been riddled with guilt, but that was his problem. My main focus right now was Claire. “Your daughter was last seen getting into a blue pickup truck yesterday afternoon around four. A few hours later, she's dead. I don't mean to sound accusatory but would you care to explain?”
He held up his hands in defeat. “Look, I got out of prison a few month ago and I've been trying to get back into Claire's life. Hasn't been easy, but I figured she'd forgive me eventually.”
“Forgive you for what?”
“I was convicted of voluntary manslaughter eight years ago. If you want the details, go talk to my PO.”
“Tell me what happened after Claire got into your car yesterday. Where did you go?”
He stared at the gray tile floor, hands in pockets. “I've been driving by her house most afternoons after she gets home from work. The first few times she refused to speak to me, but I kept at it. I
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