“No.”
“Did you hear anything? Any loud noises that night, between ten and midnight?”
“I put my headphones on as soon as I got back so I wouldn’t hear anything.”
That was a strange way to answer that question, but I won’t read too much into it just yet. Though I am curious if she really meantwouldn’tor rathercouldn’thear anything?
“Can you think of anything else that can help us with our inquiry?” Daisy shakes her head, then does something surprising. She smiles. And it nearly takes my breath away. The woman’s face lights up like a beacon. “You should smile more often,” I say without thinking.
Wrong thing to say, because it goes away as quickly as it came.
Slipping off her stool again, she walks to her front door.
I guess it’s time for me to go.
“I may have more questions for you,” I warn her.
“Okay,” she responds softly.
Reaching into my breast pocket, I retrieve my card. “My cell number is on the back. If you think of something or you’re concerned about anything, give me a call.”
“Concerned? About what?”
“Well, your neighbor was murdered….”
“Oh.” Her lashes flutter. “Right.” When she looks up at me, I can tell what I said has struck a nerve. With a quiver in her voice, she asks, “Should I be worried? Am I in danger?”
“My professional opinion is no, you’re not in danger, but we don’t know everything yet.” Pointing at my card, I say, “If you’re concerned about anything, call me.”
“All right. I will.”
“Good.”
Grabbing the doorknob, I pull her door open and step into the hallway. Turning back, I watch her door shut and listen for her to lock it. When the familiar click sounds, I move back over to Kara’s apartment. Police tape is crisscrossed over her doorway, and someone has placed a bouquet of flowers at the threshold. Bending at the waist, I look for a card or something indicating who set them here. When I don’t spot anything, I turn back and look at Daisy’s door.
Her muffled voice sounds from behind the thin wood. “No, I don’t know who left the flowers.”
I want to laugh at her response. She must have read the look on my face. “Thanks.”
Once I’m outside of the complex, I pull my phone out of my pocket and press the button to stop the recording. Since she wouldn’t let me take notes, I chose to record our conversation. Because I didn’t notify her of that, it’d be inadmissible, but at least I’ll be able to make my notes with more accuracy.
With that, I’m off to find something to eat. I’m starving. Then I need a good night’s sleep.
Chapter Four
Gage
Sleep eludes me. Too many things are whirling around in my head, which sucks because that means I’ll have gone a couple of day without decent sleep. It can’t be helped. All I can think about is Kara Becker’s murder. Looking at the clock on my nightstand, I see I’ve got time to get a workout in, shower, and get to the station before they take Tayler over to the courthouse for her arraignment. I’m not due to work until three o’clock this afternoon, but I feel the need to get there early. Perhaps Tayler will be able to answer a few questions that are nagging at me. I’ll have to be careful about it, because I don’t want to piss off Detective Trumbull, but I think Tayler will tell me things she wouldn’t say to Dan. At least I hope so.
After a five-mile run, I shower, then grab a large coffee and breakfast sandwich from a drive-through. I’m good to go. The jog was good for a couple of reasons: it woke me up and also cleared my head some. The harder my feet beat down on the ground in a steady rhythm, the more I realized Quinn and the other Beedle women were right—Tayler isn’t capable of killing someone. Threatening Kara? Yes, definitely. Now the question is how do I prove it? One way would be finding out what they discovered yesterday during the search of Tayler and Quinn’s place yesterday. Dan had a search warrant executed. If Tayler swung that club, there would be, at the very least, blood traces on clothing and shoes. Some of the results from that search should be available today. If they took any of Tayler’s property to forensics, I’ll be able to find that out as well.
Which leaves me with Tayler. I need to get to her before the arraignment. I press on the gas to get to the station quicker.
* * *
“Thanks for agreeingto talk to me, Tayler.”
The captain saw me the minute I stepped into the station and did the unexpected—he asked me to see if Tayler would talk to me since she and I knew each other. Now we’re in one of the interrogation rooms, like the ones you see on television with the two-way glass. Captain Billings and Dan Trumbull are on the other side, watching from what we call “the booth.”
