Kay gathered them by the shoulders and ushered them out, disregarding Angela as she walked by her.
Angela gave a short, polite smile, clinging tightly to her black clutch. She was dressed from head to toe like a mourning widow.
Damien drew in a deep breath, careful to keep his emotions-and tongue-under control.
Without saying anything, Angela came up beside him, her eyes fixed on Frank. She blotted her face every which way with a tattered tissue. “Oh, baby…”
Damien stepped back and rolled his eyes. He couldn’t watch this. In fact, he couldn’t be near this woman. He started to leave.
“I know what you think of me,” she said.
Damien stopped, willing himself not to turn around.
“But I didn’t have anything to do with this.”
Damien faced Angela. “He was at your apartment when he was killed. You had something to do with it.”
“Like I told the police, I wasn’t there. I was at work, which has already been confirmed.” Angela glanced at Frank. “I went in early because I’d skipped some days and was behind on my work. I have no idea why he was there.”
“I imagine that he was there because he still loves you.” Damien looked down. “Loved you, I mean. After everything you did to that man, he never stopped loving you.”
“You probably don’t believe this, but I never stopped loving him either. Frank was not an easy man to live with, but that didn’t mean I didn’t still love him.”
“Sure. You loved him enough to keep calling him from time to time, giving him hope.”
“That’s not true.”
Damien sighed. “I don’t want to get into it. Not here. Not now, over Frank’s…” He shook his head and turned to leave.
“I’m a suspect. They haven’t officially said it, but I know it. They keep returning, looking through my stuff, asking me questions.”
Damien turned around one more time. “Why didn’t he tell me about Meredith?”
Angela shook her head. “He made me swear to never tell. I never visited her myself. He wouldn’t allow it. But he told me once that every time he went, he would whisper in her ear.”
“Whisper what?”
“All the good things about her. All the things she couldn’t believe about herself.”
Damien kept walking. He couldn’t take any more of Angela. Maybe she was worth fighting for in Frank’s world, but she wasn’t worth dying for.
The police chaplain greeted Damien as he left the hallway and entered the foyer of the funeral home. Walking behind him was Reverend Caldwell.
“Chaplain, good to see you,” Damien said, shaking his hand. Captain Grayson stood beside him and shook Damien’s hand too. “Hi, Lou. Reverend Caldwell, thanks for coming.”
“Sure,” Reverend Caldwell said, holding his hand with a tight, knowing grip. “Have any questions about how or when you’ll be speaking?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks,” Damien said.
“We better get to the church,” the chaplain said. “They’ll bring Frank over in about ten minutes. I’ll see you both there.”
Damien nodded, then turned to Lou. A tense moment of silence passed between them. Damien couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I know Frank wasn’t behind this Web site. I heard you found nothing on his computer linking him to it.”
“We’re still investigating. There’s the possibility that he used a remote computer not tied to him.”
“I would hope that you’d be investigating his murder.”
“They may be all connected.”
“How so?”
“When we went to Frank’s apartment, his computer was on. He’d been checking the Web site.”
“So? Everyone is checking it.”
“We can tell that he viewed it early in the morning, before he went to Angela’s.”
Damien folded his arms and stared at the carpet.
“Also, there hasn’t been an updated post on the Web site since Frank died.” Lou put a hand on Damien’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. ”
“It’s not true. Frank wouldn’t do this. I know him. You need to look elsewhere. And you need to figure out who killed Frank.”
“We’re looking into all the angles, including whether or not Frank knew Angela was seeing someone.”
“Just find out who killed him, okay?”
25
As much as he splashed cold water on his face, Damien still couldn’t shake the fatigue he continued to feel every morning. His sleep was fitful at best, and even if he managed a good night’s sleep, he never felt rested. And when he had the time, he didn’t want to rest. He wanted to find out what happened to Frank.
As he trudged downstairs, his mind reeled with the facts he knew. Ballistics confirmed the gun type that was used to kill Frank, but no weapon had been found yet. He was shot from behind, most likely as he stepped into the apartment. The apartment was unlocked because there was no forced entry and no key was found on Frank that matched the lock at Angela’s apartment.
There were no witnesses to the crime, but one resident confirmed hearing what sounded like a firecracker at 6:55 a.m., and several others reported seeing the apartment door open.
Angela had been cleared as a suspect, at least as directly involved in the murder. Damien suspected she could be involved in another way, like hiring a hit man.
He tried to shrug off the thoughts as he joined his family at the table. “Good morning,” he said.
“Hey, Dad,” Jenna said.
Damien noticed she looked better. Her eyes had life in them again. He sat down and Kay served him eggs. “Thanks.” He studied Jenna some more. She even looked like she’d put on some weight, which she desperately needed. “Jenna, how’s everything at school? With what happened with Frank, I’ve been a little distracted. I’m sorry.”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Really?”
She actually grinned. “Yeah. Really. Everything’s like, totally normal again.”
Damien believed it. She looked really healthy.
“Dad?” Hunter asked.
“Yeah, buddy?”
“Did Frank die because of the Web site?”
“What makes you say that? Are people talking at school? blaming Frank?”
Hunter shrugged, playing with his toast.
“Don’t believe everything you hear. Frank was killed by a coward who shot him in the back. I know what people are saying. Don’t believe it.”
“Kids, you need to get going if you don’t want to be late,” Kay said.
They got up and grabbed their coats and backpacks. A minute later they were out the door.
Damien was still hunched over his uneaten plate of eggs.
Kay slid into the chair next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “You’re struggling.”
“Yeah.”
She put her head on his shoulder. “I know you miss Frank. You haven’t grieved him, though. You have to let yourself grieve.”
“As soon as we catch who did this, I-” Damien stopped.
Kay sat up. “What? What’s wrong?”
Damien held up a finger, trying to retrieve the thought that had just passed through his mind. He turned to Kay. “I think…”
“What?”
“Is the computer on?”
“I think so. Why?”
Damien hurried into the study, dropping into the chair while reaching for the keyboard. He quickly typed www.listentoyourself.net.
“What are you doing?”
“Hold on,” Damien said, using the mouse to scroll down until he found the last conversation recorded. “Read this.”
Kay leaned in.
“Hey, yeah, give me another.”
“You’re a bourbon and Coke man?”
“I am these days. Might even drop the Coke.”
“Bad day?”
“Bad week. Month. Life.”
“Me too. Lost my job.”
“About to lose my mind.”
“Then there must be a woman involved.”
“Do they make anything stronger than bourbon that I can stand to drink?”
“Trouble in paradise?”
“Yeah, I guess. I was seeing a woman. She sort of freaked on me. Threatened to…”
“What? Hey, slow down there. Drink it too fast and you’ll puke or pass out or both.”
“Gimme another.”
“So, your woman freaked?”