“Then find out who did this. Find out who killed my husband.” Tammy’s voice had a hint of anger in it. “He’s dead and can’t defend himself, so it’s up to you.”
Hank took a couple of slow breaths. “I’ll do all I can to get at the full truth. You’re going to have to trust me on that.”
Her face softened and she dropped her head, sobbing. Through short, quick breaths, she managed to say, “I’m sorry, Detective. I know it’s not your fault.”
Hank remained quiet. He was used to taking the blame on occasion and didn’t take it personally. It was all part of the grieving process.
But he couldn’t rule out Norton as a murderer yet. Norton was killed long after Shaft, and he had motive, means, and opportunity—not to mention the mountain of evidence against him.
The sobs subsided and Hank asked, “Mrs. Norton, did your husband contact you in any way since Monday?”
The pain in her eyes seemed to grow more intense. “He went to work as usual and that was the last I saw him.”
“He never called you?”
“No.”
Hank considered telling her about her husband’s phone call to Annie and then decided it would serve no purpose. It would have to come out eventually, but now wasn’t the time.
Tammy raised her head, took a shaky breath, and asked, “How was my husband killed?”
“He was shot. Once in the heart. He would’ve died immediately and not suffered.”
She nodded almost imperceptibly, the tears welling up again. “Where … where did you find him?”
“Down by the railway tracks. Investigators are still processing the scene, but it appears he was killed elsewhere and then taken down an access road and left near the tracks.”
“Dumped like a piece of garbage,” Tammy said, her lower lip quivering.
“It appears that way.” Hank fidgeted uncomfortably. “They’ve taken him to the city morgue.”
Tammy focused her pain-filled eyes on Hank. “They won’t have to perform an autopsy, will they? I’d hate to think of my husband …” Her voice trailed off and she took a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t want my husband to go through that.”
“It might not be necessary. The clear cause of death was a gunshot wound, but I’m afraid I can’t guarantee you there won’t be an autopsy. That’ll be up to the medical examiner to determine.”
“I don’t know what good it’ll do, but if it will help find Michael’s killer, then …”
“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll talk to the ME about that. In the meantime, you’ll need to identify the body,” Hank said, and added quickly, “There’s no doubt it’s him. It’s just a formality.”
Tammy nodded. “I need to see him again.” She wiped away a tear. “I’m having a hard time accepting this. I guess seeing him will help.”
“I’ll contact you as soon as the body’s ready,” Hank said, as he stood. “In the meantime, I’m giving this my full attention. I’ll be sure to let you know anything we find out.”
Tammy stood. “Thank you, Detective. Please find my husband’s killer and prove his innocence.”
“I’ll do all I can,” Hank assured her. He made his way to the front door, let himself out, and Mrs. Shaft closed the door behind him.
He was glad the most uncomfortable part was over, but now he had to find a killer—or two.
Chapter 31
Wednesday, 5:43 p.m.
ANNIE HAD LISTENED to the phone call from Michael Norton again and was going over her notes. Norton’s murder put a whole new slant on the case, and she hoped looking at things from a different angle would reveal the missing pieces of the puzzle.
The doorbell rang and she sat back, working a crick from her neck before stepping into the living room. Jake and Matty had been here a moment ago but had suddenly disappeared.
She went to the door and pulled it open. Now she knew why Jake had mysteriously vanished. He must’ve spied the caller through the living room window, and he and Matty would likely now be found holed up in the garage, fixing something that didn’t need fixing.
The woman who stood outside looked a lot like Annie—the same midlength, blond hair, blue eyes, and slim figure. But she was somewhat older, and the sour look permanently imprinted on her face camouflaged her once attractive features.
“Hello, Mother,” Annie said. “What brings you here?”
“Are you going to let me in?” Alma Roderick asked.
Annie stepped back and her mother bustled into the foyer, leaned in for an air kiss, and then strode to the kitchen. Annie followed.
“I’m on my way home from work, dear. I wanted to see if you were all right.” Alma took a seat at the kitchen table.
“You could’ve called,” Annie said.
Alma ignored the snide comment as she cast a probing gaze around the room. Finding nothing out of place, her eyes rested on her daughter. “And where’s my grandson?”
Annie took a guess. “He’s in the garage with Jake. They had to fix something that was uh … broken.”
Alma sniffed and her voice turned to one of concern. “I do hope everything is all right between the two of you. I know you’re both gone all hours of the day and night. This crazy job of yours can put a strain on any marriage.” She gave Annie a know-it-all look. “I hope you aren’t neglecting Matty? A child needs his mother.”
“A child needs his father as well,” Annie said flatly. “And Matty’s with Jake now.” Annie wanted to roll her eyes and shake her head but her mother’s piercing gaze stopped her. Instead she smiled as pleasantly as she could and asked, “Would you like a cup of coffee, Mother?”
“Goodness, no. I can’t stay long. Your father will be home soon and he’ll be wanting something to eat.”
That was good news. A few minutes with her mother would be enough to last a week.
Annie racked her brain for something to say. Finally, “How are things at work?”
“Not so bad now that I’m there. Goodness, before I started, the place was in such a shambles. People coming without appointments, others not showing up when they should.” She shook her head, her lips in a straight line. “I don’t know how they ever stayed in business.”
Annie smiled. She knew the hair salon where her mother worked part time was a thriving business many years before her mother started, and would likely be there many years after she was gone.
The doorbell rang again and Annie hoped it was the men in white coats coming for her mother.
No such luck. When she opened the door, a microphone was pushed at her and the voice of Lisa Krunk asked, “Mrs. Lincoln, I wonder if I may ask you a few questions?”
Annie hesitated and looked at Don, standing beside Lisa, holding the camera, its red light already glowing. She knew anything she said, even a refusal, was liable to be on the news, so she forced a smile and said, “I have a few minutes.”
She glanced toward the kitchen. It would be best to keep her mother unaware of this, so she stepped outside, closed the door quietly, and looked at Lisa.
Lisa smiled tightly. “Mrs. Lincoln, I understand you and your husband are investigating the murder of Werner Shaft. Can you tell me about any progress you might’ve made?”
Annie thought quickly. The truth was, as far as she was concerned, they hadn’t made any progress yet. “This case is still ongoing, and though there are persons of interest, there’s no solid suspect at this point.”
Lisa continued, “I understand Michael Norton was found dead. He was a suspect in the case, and now with his murder, are you looking elsewhere? And do you have a suspect in his murder?”
Annie knew Lisa had people everywhere, and wasn’t surprised the reporter found out about Norton so quickly. “I don’t have anything to add. The police are looking into Michael Norton’s death, and it might be better to direct your questions to them.”