burdened young woman . . . All right.
I’d find out why she was upset, but I wouldn’t tarry long. I wafted to the chief ’s office.
Chief Cobb was standing by a long rectangular table. File folders were ranged around the perimeter. Each bore a large square white label. All pertained to the Murdoch investigation. Chief Cobb’s thick iron-gray brows knotted in a frown. Lines of fatigue creased his square face. He picked up a report.
I looked over his shoulder.
Persons of Interest:
Kirby Murdoch, son of victim. Estrangement over girlfriend.
Target practice on the river bottom Thursday afternoon. Cannot produce gun. Claims it was stolen from his car.
G h o s t at Wo r k
The Rev. Wm. Abbott—Quarreled with victim Thursday morning, refuses to reveal cause. Was his wife involved with Murdoch?
Story of her visit to Murdoch’s cabin not credible.
Kathleen Abbott—A vestry member is worried that Mrs. Abbott is A brisk knock sounded.
He replaced the report on the table, turned.
Officer Leland stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She was pale, but composed.
“What can I do for you, Anita?” His voice was formal, but the look in his eyes startled me, a mixture of gravity and longing.
Anita stood stiff and still. She looked young and vulnerable. She didn’t meet his gaze.
Yet each was intensely aware of the other even though both were making every effort to pretend it wasn’t so. They were linked by that magic sensitivity that spells desire and uncertainty and hope.
She moved to the end of the table, stood with her hands in tight fists.
“I may have information that could be important in the Murdoch case.” He frowned. “You followed him yesterday?”
“Oh no.” The denial was swift. “It isn’t that. It’s . . . I have to go back a long way to explain. You remember two years ago when you came out to my brother-in-law’s farm, the night he shot himself.”
“I remember.” His steady gaze was filled with pity.
“You were kind.” Her eyes mourned. “You tried to help us. Then, when Vee ran away, you did your best to find her.” His jaw tightened. “She shouldn’t have left you to deal with it.” Anita’s shoulders sagged. “She never could face up to things.
Never. I don’t think she’s still alive, you know. I keep thinking someday word will come, but every time it’s like this last trip. The description matches—young woman, unidentified, found dead. But it isn’t Vee. Anyway”—she made a sudden impatient gesture—“I don’t know if you ever knew the man Vee was involved with.”
Ca ro ly n H a rt
He rubbed one cheek. “It didn’t need to be part of the record. When a man shoots himself, leaves a note, that’s all an investigation needs.”
“I know. But now I have to tell you.” She flexed her fingers, shook them. “She was having an affair with Daryl Murdoch.” Chief Cobb looked startled. “Murdoch?”
“Vee should have known better.” Anita spoke in a monotone. “She was always wild, even when she was a kid, taking chances, thinking she was special, and when somebody like him went after her, I guess she thought she’d have a chance to marry a rich man and she told Carl she was leaving him. When he shot himself, she called Murdoch and he hung up on her. Like everything else in her life, when things got rough, she quit. She took all the money in the house and left town.”
“Is that why you followed him around?” His voice was sharp.
Anita stared down at the tips of her shoes, her face working. “The first time I stopped him, I didn’t know who it was. He couldn’t believe I was actually going to give him a ticket. The second time I knew his car. I guess I liked stopping him. He didn’t know I was Vee’s sister. No reason why he should have. After that, I kept an eye out for him.” She lifted her face. “I know I shouldn’t have, but I didn’t see why he shouldn’t have to follow the rules. So”— her gaze was defiant—“I followed him around and that’s what I have to tell you about. It might be important. He always has a girlfriend. He’s been seeing a woman who lives on Olive Street for about a year now. Cynthia Brown, 623 Olive. But he hadn’t gone there for about a week.” She reached up, touched her name badge. “If you want to fire me, I’ll understand.” Tears filmed her eyes. “I hate to disappoint you, Chief.
I tried hard to be a good officer. You’re the reason why I changed my major to criminal justice. I’ve never forgotten the night Carl died . . .
I wanted to be able to help people the way you helped me.”
“Speed laws are supposed to be enforced.” His voice was gentle.
“Your surveillance of Murdoch may turn out to be key to solving the case.”
G h o s t at Wo r k
She reached up, wiped her eyes with the back of a hand. “I had to tell you even if it meant my job.”
“Your job’s okay.” His tone was abstracted. He turned away, paced along the table. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. There’s an opening in the security office at the college.”
Anita watched him with a stricken look. “I see.” He stood, staring down at the folders. “If you’re interested, I’ll give you a top recommendation. Then, if that works out, maybe some Saturday . . .” He swung to face her. “Maybe we could go up to Oklahoma City, have lunch at Bricktown, take a ride on the canal, maybe drop by Bass Pro.” His
