File M For Murder

“I’m ready to go with you.” Laura addressed Kanesha with composure intact.

I hoped I wasn’t standing there with my mouth hanging open. I had to squelch the urge to reach into my pocket to retrieve what Laura had put there.

Kanesha shot me a glance with narrowed eyes. I thought she suspected there was something odd about that sudden embrace, but she didn’t question it. Instead she said, “You can come too, Mr. Harris, but you can’t be in the room during my interview with your daughter.”

“I understand,” I said. “Honey, I’ll be there to take you home.”

Laura nodded, and then Kanesha led her away. I followed them out of the courtyard onto the street and watched—stomach still churning—while Kanesha put Laura into a sheriff’s department car. When the door closed and the vehicle pulled away, I walked to my car, my mind racing with questions.

I waited until I was inside the car, though, with the air conditioner running full blast, before I delved into my pocket to find out what Laura had hidden there. The shape felt familiar. I pulled it out and opened my palm, and there it was, an ordinary computer thumb drive.

I stared at it blankly for a moment. Was this from Connor Lawton’s apartment? Was this device the reason Laura lied to Kanesha?

I’d have to wait for Laura to explain herself and tell me why she thought this thumb drive was important enough to indulge in covert action to give it to me. What was on it that she didn’t want Kanesha to know about?

After a moment I stuffed the device back in my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. Before I headed to the sheriff’s department, I ought to call Sean and tell him what was going on. If Laura should need legal representation, Sean might as well be on the spot.

Sean answered quickly. “Hey, Dad, where are you? Justin said you tore out of here without an explanation.”

“Sorry about that,” I said. “But I didn’t really have time to explain anything. Are you at home now? Because I need to talk to you, and I don’t want you driving and talking on your phone.”

“I’m home,” Sean said. “Fire away.”

I leaned back against the headrest and tried to relax. My entire body felt tight and tense. “Connor Lawton is dead, and Laura found him.” Then, before Sean could start firing questions at me, I gave him a precis of the situation. When I finished, Sean didn’t respond for a moment.

“Bloody hell.” I heard him expel a sharp breath. “I’m on my way, Dad.” He ended the call before I could respond.

I tucked my cell phone away and put the car in gear. My hands trembled slightly, and I gripped the wheel more firmly. I tried not to think about Laura being arrested for murder on the drive to the sheriff’s department.

When I pulled into a parking space some ten minutes later, I was wrestling with a different question.

Why did I think Connor Lawton was murdered?

Lawton had a volatile, even violent, temperament, but he hadn’t appeared to be a manic depressive in my brief acquaintance with him. I didn’t see him as the suicidal type. Even if he was wrestling with the play and unhappy with the way it was developing, he wouldn’t end his life over it. Lawton was a fighter; I was convinced of that.

His death could have been an accident. I considered that possibility again as I walked from the parking lot toward the front door of the sheriff’s department. Alcohol poisoning? There was that bottle of bourbon near his body.

Even as these thoughts entered my mind, I had a nasty feeling that Lawton’s death was definitely murder.

Inside the sheriff’s department, the fluorescent lighting and chilly air brought me out of my reverie. I spoke to the officer at the front desk and explained why I was there. He nodded and pointed to a small waiting area. He said he’d make sure the chief deputy knew I was there.

I was at the water cooler, gulping down my third paper cup of water when Sean arrived. He strode over, the heels of his cowboy boots thudding against the scuffed linoleum. The officer at the desk glanced up, frowned, and went back to whatever he was doing.

Sean squeezed my shoulder. “How are you doing, Dad?”

“I’ve had better days.” I crumpled the paper cup and dropped it in the wastebasket next to the cooler. “But it’s Laura I’m worried about. Let’s go sit down and talk.”

Sean followed me to the waiting area, and we selected seats in the corner, as far from the front desk as possible.

In an undertone I told Sean the one thing I hadn’t shared with him during the phone call—Laura’s strange action with the thumb drive.

Sean’s expression turned grim when I finished. “If that turns out to be a crime scene, and they find out Laura removed that device, she could face some serious charges.”

FIFTEEN