Megan demanded.
“One glance was all it took to see that there had been a struggle,” Harry said, deciding they needed to know the unpleasant truth. “The phone was ripped out of the wall and smashed. The TV was damaged. Several pieces of furniture had been overturned and there was blood in several places. Most of it smears near the bed.”
“A…lot of blood?” Megan asked. The hostility had vanished from her voice, replaced by stark fear.
“Enough blood that everyone was immediately worried for your dad’s safety,” Harry admitted. He chose not to tell either of the women that a quick preliminary test showed the blood had come from at least three different people, suggesting a minimum of two attackers and a brutal fight. Or it was possible that the blood might have come from one attacker and two victims, raising the embarrassing possibility that Ron Raven hadn’t been sleeping alone.
That was an avenue Harry definitely didn’t want to explore with Ron’s wife and daughter. He hurried on with his explanation. “Even before the hotel security staff could initiate a search of the premises, they had word from the parking valet that your father’s rental car had gone missing. The valet was afraid the car had been stolen since they still had possession of the keys, but the car itself was nowhere to be found.”
“Why did they assume the car had been stolen?” Megan asked. “My father could easily have had a second set of keys.”
“But he didn’t,” Harry said flatly. “The Miami police have checked with the rental company. They only gave your father one set of keys. Besides, the car has already been found. It was abandoned in a restaurant parking lot close to the ocean, about ten miles from the hotel. There was a set of keys left in the ignition.” Keys that had been polished to a high gloss, obliterating any possibility of fingerprints. Keys that were so shiny it seemed likely they’d been cut within the past twenty-four hours.
“There were more blood traces in the trunk of the car,” Harry said when neither woman spoke. “The evidence suggests pretty clearly that a body had been lying in there.”
“In the trunk of the car?” Megan asked, her voice very small. “Oh my God.”
Harry gave her hand a quick squeeze. “I’m sorry, Meg. Real sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Except that it clearly wasn’t okay. Struggling to regain control of herself, Megan cast a quick glance toward her mother. Ellie’s face was paler than the first snow in winter, but she met her daughter’s eyes and delivered a ghastly caricature of a smile.
Realizing that her daughter was temporarily silenced, Ellie finally managed to look Harry right in the eyes and issue a challenge. “Just because there was a body in the trunk of Ron’s rental car doesn’t mean the body was Ron’s.”
“That’s true,” Harry said with admirable restraint. He didn’t point out that if the blood wasn’t Ron’s, then he was soon likely to be considered the fugitive suspect in a murder case.
“It could be anyone’s blood in that car,” Ellie persisted. “Miami has a big problem with drugs, doesn’t it? I just read an article the other day about all the cocaine that’s still coming in from South America, despite the millions of dollars our government is spending in an effort to stop the drug runners. It could have been some drug lord who got shoved in the trunk of Ron’s car, for all we know.”
Harry didn’t bother to comment on the improbability of Ron Raven disappearing at the precise moment as drug dealers stuffed somebody else’s dead body into the trunk of his rental car. “The investigators in Miami have sent blood samples to the crime lab for testing,” he said diplomatically. “They’ve ascertained that the blood in the hotel room and in the car trunk is from the same person, so we do know that much. But they plan to run more tests, of course. Unfortunately, the labs are always overworked and understaffed and the forensics will take time, even though the Miami cops have put a rush on it.”
Megan was a smart woman and would normally have wanted to know how the crime lab was going to identify the blood as belonging to her father given that he wasn’t available, alive or dead, to provide a sample for comparison. Since neither of the women picked up on the problem, Harry decided he could wait another few hours before mentioning that he would need a DNA-test swab from Megan, or from her brother, Liam. With that, the lab would eventually be able to determine with near hundred percent certainty whether or not some of the blood in the Miami hotel room belonged to her father.
Harry finally crossed to Ellie’s side and did what he’d been wanting to do from the moment she walked into the room—touch her. He took her hands and rubbed his callused thumbs gently over her knuckles. They were very small hands and he felt a sharp tug in his gut.
He drew in a breath that was embarrassingly shaky. “I’m sorry, Ellie, but it’s not looking good for Ron. I have to be honest with you, the cops in Miami have listed Ron missing, but it sounded to me as if they were searching for a body. We can hope, of course, but the state of Ron’s hotel room suggests that he is either injured or…dead.”
And if the bastard turned up alive, he’d better not come into Stark County or Harry would personally kill him.
Ellie made a small, choked sound of distress and the tears finally began to flow. She fumbled in the pocket of her jeans for a tissue and wiped fiercely, but the tears kept coming back.
Megan, her own eyes brimming with tears, tried once again to comfort her mother. “Come and sit down,” she said. “Mom, your hands are freezing. Do you want me to light the fire?”
“No, that’s not necessary.” Ellie blew determinedly. “I’ll be all right, Megan, but don’t fuss. I can’t…handle people hovering over me right now.”
“Why don’t we leave your mother alone for a couple of minutes,” Harry suggested to Megan, relieved that Ellie had given him such a perfect opening. He’d been wondering how the hell he was going to separate the two women long enough for him to tell Megan the rest of what needed to be said.
Megan shook her head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave Mom—”
“Yes, it is,” Harry insisted. “I expect Ellie would like some tea. It’ll warm her up. Help me make some, Megan. I’m a coffee man myself and I do a lousy job with tea bags.” Harry knew he was babbling again, but he was desperate enough to grab Megan’s hand and almost drag her toward the kitchen.
“Harry, no! Whatever she says, Mom shouldn’t be alone—”
“Come with me,” he said, speaking into Megan’s ear, his voice low but his tone leaving no doubt that he was giving an order, not making a suggestion.
Megan finally realized that there was more bad news to come and her resistance ended. As soon as they were safely in the kitchen, she swung around to confront him.
“What is it?” she asked. “What is it you don’t want Mom to hear?” She swallowed. “Do the cops suspect Dad was with another woman? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
She was on the right lines, but still miles away from the scummy truth. Here goes, Harry thought. Now, dammit, I have to tell her the rest of it.
Two
May 2, 2006, the Windemere, Lake Shore Drive,
Chicago,
