If She Knew (A Kate Wise Mystery—Book 1)

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO

After retirement, Kate had moved back to Richmond, Virginia. She’d grown up in the little town of Amelia, about forty minutes away from Richmond, but had gone to college right near the cusp of downtown. She’d spent her undergrad years at VCU, originally wanting to be an art major of all things. Three years in, she’d discovered that she’d had a heart for criminal justice through one of her elective courses in psychology. It had been a winding, crooked trail that had led her to Quantico and the thirty-year stretch of her illustrious career.

She now drove through some of those familiar Richmond streets. She’d been to Debbie Meade’s house only once before but knew exactly where it was located. She knew where it was because she envied the location, one of those older-looking buildings on the streets off the center of downtown that were lined with trees rather than street lights and tall buildings.

Deb’s street was currently awash in fallen leaves from the elms that overhung the street. She had to park three houses away because family and friends had already started to fill in the spaces in front of Deb’s house.

She walked down the sidewalk, trying to convince herself that this was a bad idea. Yes, she planned to enter the house as only a friend—even though Jane and Clarissa had decided to hold off until later in the afternoon in order to give Deb some space. But there was something deeper there, too. She’d been looking for something to do these past few months, some better and more meaningful way to fill her time. She’d often dreamed about somehow picking up freelance work from the bureau, maybe even just basic research tasks.

Even the most minor of references to her work got her excited. For instance, she was due in court next week to testify at a parole hearing. She was not looking forward to facing the criminal again but just being able to delve back into her work for such a brief amount of time was welcome.

But that was next week—and right now that seemed like an eternity away.

She looked up at Debbie Meade’s front porch. She knew why she was really there. She wanted to find some answers to questions that were storming in her head. It made her feel selfish, like she was using her friend’s loss as an excuse to dip her toes back into waters that she had not felt in over a year. This situation involved a friend, which made it tricky. But the old agent in her was hoping it might evolve into something else. The friend in her, though, thought it might be risky. And all together, those parts of her wondered if maybe she should have stuck with simply fanaticizing about a return to work.

Maybe that’s exactly what I’m doing, Kate thought as she walked up the stairs to the Meade residence. And honestly, she wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that.

She knocked on the door softly and it was answered right away by an elderly lady Kate did not know.

“Are you with the family?” the woman asked.

“No,” Kate answered. “Just a very close friend.”

The woman scrutinized her for a moment before allowing her inside. Kate entered and walked down the hallway, passing by a living area that was filled with somber people sitting around one single person in a recliner. The person in the recliner was Debbie Meade. Kate recognized the man standing beside her and talking to another man as her husband, Jim.

She awkwardly entered the room and went directly to Deb. Without allowing Deb enough time to get out of the chair, Kate leaned down and hugged her.

“I’m so sorry, Deb,” she said.

Deb was clearly drained from crying, managing to only nod into Kate’s shoulder. “Thanks for coming,” Deb whispered into her ear. “Do you think you could meet me in the kitchen in a few minutes?”

“Of course.”

Kate broke the hug and gave little nods of acknowledgment to the few other faces in the room that she recognized. Feeling out of place, Kate made her way to the end of the hallway which emptied into the kitchen. There was no one there but there were empty plates and glasses from where people had been not too long ago. There were a few pies sitting on the counter along with ham rolls and other finger foods. Kate set to cleaning up, helping herself to the sink to start washing the dishes.

Several moments later, Jim Meade made his way into the kitchen. “You don’t have to do that,” he said.

Kate turned to him and saw that he looked tired and impossibly sad. “I know,” she said. “I came by to show my support. It seemed like things were pretty heavy in the living room when I came in, so I’m supporting you guys by washing dishes.”

He nodded, looking like he might nod off right then and there. “One of our friends said she saw a woman come in a few minutes ago. I’m rather glad it’s you, Kate.”

Kate saw another person coming toward the kitchen behind him, looking equally tired and heartbroken. Deb Meade’s eyes were puffy and red from crying. Her hair was in disarray and when she looked at Kate to try on a smile, it seemed to fall right off of her face.

Kate put down the dish she was washing, quickly dried her hands on a hand towel by the sink, and went to her friend. Kate had never been much for physical touch but knew when a hug was needed. She expected Deb to start weeping in the midst of the hug but there was nothing, just her sagging weight.

She’s probably all cried out for now, Kate thought.

“I only just heard this morning,” Kate said. “I’m so sorry, Deb. Both of you,” she said, casting her eyes to Jim.

Jim nodded his appreciation and then looked down the hall. When he saw that no one else was lurking there, the slight murmur of their company still in the living room, he stepped closer to Kate as Deb broke the hug.

“Kate, we need to ask you something,” Jim said in a near-whisper.

“And please,” Deb said, taking her hand. “Let us get it all out before you shoot us down.” Kate felt a little tremble in Deb’s grip and her heart broke a little.

“Sure,” Kate said. Their pleading eyes and the overall weight of their sorrow hung over her head like an anvil that was sure to drop at any moment.

“The police have absolutely no idea who did it,” Deb said. Suddenly, her exhaustion morphed into something that looked closer to anger. “Based on some things we said and some texts they found on Julie’s phone, the police arrested her ex-boyfriend right away. But they held him for less than three hours and then let him go. Just like that. But Kate…I know he did it. It has to be him.”

Kate had seen this approach multiple times before during her time as an agent. Grieving families wanted justice right away. They’d look past logic and a sound investigation to make sure some sort of vengeance was taken out as soon as possible. And if those results weren’t speedy, the grieving family assumed incompetence on the part of the police or FBI.

“Deb…if they released him so quickly, there must have been some very strong evidence. After all…how long has it been since they dated?”

“Thirteen years. But he kept trying to connect with her for years, even after she was married. She had to get a restraining order at one time.”

“Still…the police had to have a good alibi for him to have released him so quickly.”

“Well, if there was, they aren’t telling me about it,” Deb said.

“Deb…look,” Kate said, giving Deb’s hand a comforting squeeze. “The loss is too recent. Give it a few days and you’ll start to think rationally. I’ve seen it a hundred times.”

Deb shook her head. “I’m certain of it, Kate. They dated for three years and not once did I trust him. We’re pretty sure he hit her at least on two occasions but Julie never came out and said it. He had a temper. Even he’d tell you that.”

“I’m sure the police are—”

“That’s our favor,” Deb interrupted. “I want you to look into it. I want you to get involved in the case.”

“Deb, I’m retired. You know this.”

“I do. And I also know how much you miss it. Kate…the man that killed my daughter got nothing more than a little scare and some time in an interrogation room. And now he’s at home, sitting comfortably while I have to plan to put my daughter in the ground. It’s not right, Kate. Please…will you look into it? I know you can’t do it on an official basis but…anything you can do. I’d appreciate it.”

There was so much heartache in Deb’s eyes that Kate could feel it passing between them. Everything within her was telling her to stand firm—to not allow any false hope to enter into Deb’s grief. But at the same time, Deb was right. She had missed her work. And even if what was being proposed was just a few basic phone calls to the Richmond PD or even to her former co-workers at the bureau, it would be something.

It would certainly be better than obsessively reflecting back on her career with lonely trips out to the gun range.

“Here’s what I can do,” Kate said. “When I retired, I lost all of my pull. Sure, I get calls for my opinion here and there, but I have no authority. More than that, this case would be completely outside of my jurisdiction even if I were still active. But I will make a few calls to my old contacts and make sure the evidence they found to free him was strong. Honestly, Deb, that’s the best I can do.”

The gratitude was evident in both Deb and Jim right away. Deb hugged her again and this time, she did weep. “Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem,” Kate said. “But I really can’t promise anything.”

“We know,” Jim said. “But at least now we know that someone competent is watching out for us.”

Kate wasn’t comfortable with the idea that they were looking to her as an inside force to assist them, nor did she like that they assumed the police didn’t have their backs. Again, she knew it was all about their grief and how it was blinding them in their search for answers. So for now, she let it slide.

She thought about how tired she had been near the end of her career—not really physically tired but emotionally drained. She had always loved her job, but how often had she come to the end of a case and think to herself: Man, am I tired of this s**t…

It had happened more and more often in the last few years.

But this moment was not about her.

She held her friend close, puzzling over how no matter how hard people tried to put their pasts behind them—whether it was relationships or careers—it somehow managed to always limp along not too far behind.