“You better. Right now, all I have to give the DA’s office is Newman’s early childhood in Brownsville.”
We disconnect and Chuck is back on the opposite side of the table talking to someone on the landline. “Yes. She’s right here.”
“Me?” I whisper.
He nods and covers the receiver. “Newman Smith’s wife.”
My eyes go wide and I stand up, reaching over the table to grab the phone. “Mrs. Smith.”
“I want to talk,” she says.
“I’d like that. Can you come to the station?”
“No.” Her voice is high, sharp. “No. I can’t. No.”
“When and where?”
“Lola Savannah coffee shop off Bee Caves Road. It’s next to my yoga studio. Six o’clock.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Okay.” She hangs up.
Chapter 64
You can almost feel the sigh of relief from multiple directions after that call from Becky Smith. The captain, Lang, our entire team feel like we’re about to get a break in this case. Evan is certainly pleased, and eager to be the ADA who closes a case involving a serial killer who happens to be a prominent member of society, so much so that he agrees to meet me for eight-thirty drinks. The mayor won’t be happy to look dirty with him as a donor, but we can’t please everyone.
I arrive at the coffee shop, a cute, artsy spot like so many places in Austin, fifteen minutes early. With time on my hands, I order my second skinny white mocha of the day. My mug with designer foam on top and I settle at a table, under a ceiling decorated with a giant canvas of coffee. My location is by a window, to view the parking lot.
Lang calls me about the time I’ve placed the first sweet sip of coffee and foam on my lips and tongue. Of course. Lang has perfect timing. I shorten the savoring moment, set my cup down, and answer the call. “Yes, oh great one?”
“I am pretty great, aren’t I?”
“Did you call me to talk about yourself?” I ask. “Or do you have another, less vain purpose?”
“While I do believe I’m an excellent subject of conversation, I deliver the gift of information.” His tone turns serious. “The vet’s name was Carrie Ludwig. She went to A&M for her veterinary training but did part of her undergraduate and pre-vet program at UT Austin. Per her mother, that was because she hadn’t decided to become a vet at that point, and she’d dreamed of going to school in Austin. She wanted out of the small-town mentality, which was where A&M took her again.”
“Obviously she got over that and went to A&M and back to Brownsville.”
“Obviously,” he agrees. “And yes, I already have Chuck trying to find out if she was in any of Newman’s classes.”
“Sometimes, like right now, when you’re two steps ahead of my questions, I think I love you, Lang.”
He snorts. “For about thirty seconds before you want to kill me again, but whatever. Aren’t you about to have your meeting with Becky?”
“I am.” I glance at the time on my watch. “She’s supposed to have already been here.” My phone beeps and I glance at the number. “That’s Chuck. Please tell me she didn’t cancel. I’ll call you back.” I click over to Chuck. “What’s up?” I ask.
“She cancelled with no explanation given. It was a short, fast hang-up.”
“Text me her cell number.”
“On its way.”
When the text hits my messages, I punch the number and call Becky. She doesn’t answer. I retry. I don’t leave a message; Newman might hear. My face tilts skyward, frustration rippling through me. Why? Why? Why? I sip my coffee and try Becky again. Maybe Newman questioned her delay coming home.
A few minutes later, I’ve gotten my coffee poured into a to-go cup and I’ve stopped dialing Becky over and over. I’m worried about her safety. I head to my car to swing by her house. Once I’m on the road, I dial Chuck. “Where is Newman now? Find out.” I hang up and continue my drive.
I’ve just turned onto Bee Caves Road, which is a short path to the Smiths’ house when Chuck calls back.
“He’s at home with his wife. She just pulled into the garage.”
My cell phone rings again. “Please let that be her. I’ll call you back.” I eye my caller ID and sure enough, it’s her. My heart punches at my chest and I punch the answer button. “Mrs. Smith?”
“I need you to leave us alone. That’s what I wanted to tell you. Leave us alone. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“You called and said you did.”
“That’s what I’m telling you. This is hard enough on my kids. Leave us alone. He didn’t kill anyone.”
She hangs up.
He got to her.
And I’m back to having nothing but a scared wife and a loose Brownsville connection to give Evan during our meeting tonight.
Chapter 65
While Detective Jazz runs around chasing her tail, I move my late evening work away from the wife and kids, seeking the sanctuary of the library across from my office. At this hour, the recently remodeled massive glass complex is all but dead, the silence a welcome calm for my work. I settle into a small room on an upper level in one of several leather seats, surrounded by the great literary works. I pull out my MacBook and an egg salad sandwich from a nearby ThunderCloud Sub shop and take a big bite, savoring the flavors: red onion, tomato, and just the right amount of thinly shredded lettuce. ThunderCloud understands the gospel of doing things right. Too few do.
I open my bottle of water and tip it back, taking a long, thirsty drink, and then halfway into my meal, I key my computer to life. My messenger pops up in the corner with a note from the wifey: Love you. Wish you didn’t have to work late. Neal drew you a picture at school today and Tessa has a flower to show you.
I type an automatic reply: Love you, too. Kiss them goodnight for me. Tell them I’ll make pancakes in the morning.
That woman slows me down even when I want to speed up, a fact that I didn’t appreciate at one point, but I do now. Speed is not always the smartest move, though I’m certainly skilled enough to operate at whatever pace I see fit at this point. But she and the kids are necessary.
Obligation complete, and with a rush of anticipation-driven adrenaline, I search the news for any hint of my recent kill, somewhat disappointed that it’s not reported beyond a basic report on crimes for the week. There was a time when that would have been a relief, but that was during my training when I prepared to sit on the throne as master and judge. I’m seated now, and I plan to make a statement. It’s time for respect to be given where deserved.