Page 50 of Laura's Truth
“She showed up in Darlington County this morning and turned herself in.”
“And?” He waited for the news that she was locked up in a jail cell nearby.
“She gave her statement, talked by phone with the detective on the case and they’re looking in another direction now.”
“How…” Hackett closed his eyes and counted to ten. Anger wouldn’t get him anywhere right now. “Which direction?” he asked through gritted teeth. He would not be bested by a woman with delusions of James Bond.
“According to her statement, she’d been accosted twice yesterday morning before the shooting and her gun was stolen. We’ve verified those reports and we’re digging deeper.”
“And I assume the Army descended to protect her?”
“Hardly. The Army is cooperating. She’s staying here in town, as requested by CPD. We haven’t released her car. It may have been her gun, but we have confirmation that she didn’t pull the trigger.”
“According to what? A backwater gunpowder residue test?” Hackett snorted, making his low opinion clear.
“No witnesses can put her in the room at the time of death,” his contact hissed into the phone. “They couldn’t hold her.”
“What took her so long to come forward?”
“The report says she was injured and she hadn’t heard the news until this morning.”
Not injured enough, he thought, remembering how close he’d come to success. They still hadn’t cracked her computer, couldn’t be sure what she did or didn’t know. “How’d she get to Darlington County without her car?”
“Traveling with her new husband. A quick honeymoon is why they came to Charleston to begin with.”
Bullshit. But he gave her points for a plausible story. “I see.” Hackett waited, his frustration mounting when he was forced to ask the next question. “What information is there on the new husband?”
“Not a lot past the name: Thomas Ketterly. He’s a bank manager based in Fayetteville, North Carolina. We’ve got nothing on him besides a vehicle and new charges on the credit card.”
“Give me the information.”
“I, ah, really can’t do that.”
“Do not test me.” He made the notations as his contact relented and gave over the details. “Did the new husband give a statement?”
“Only as it supported her story.”
“Of course it does.” Which cleared up nothing at all. “Thank you,” he said and ended the call.
He tapped his pen against the notepad. Maybe something here would give him insight to break her passwords.
Since the first alert had come through that the old file had been accessed, he’d been on edge. Just when he’d arranged to dispose of the last survivor of the skirmish that covered his ass and launched his most profitable endeavors, Talbot had started snooping through the past.
Hackett didn’t believe in coincidence any more than he believed in relinquishing the power he’d earned through hard work and strong, international connections. He needed to know what had prompted her to go back to that file, if what she read had led her to Charleston. To him.
He’d broken into her phone history and found a call from a private investigations firm. He knew she hadn’t come to Charleston for a honeymoon, not when he hadn’t seen the first inkling that she had a personal life.
She’d come to Charleston for something else. The proof was in the fine job she’d done eluding the team he’d sent to tail her. It might’ve helped if his first man had done the job right in the churchyard, but it was too late for regrets and he was too close to completing his master plan.
Hackett keyed Ketterly’s name into his web browser and started sorting through the results. It was possible a woman of Talbot’s background carried a gun with her even on her honeymoon, but not her computer. Until he had concrete answers, he wasn’t letting this go. And he wasn’t leaving anything else to chance.
While he’d carefully hired people with skills he didn’t have, too many of them had failed him at this critical juncture. A lifetime of leisure was waiting for him, he merely had to snip off a few loose ends and he could be away with enough money to keep the devil happy through a long retirement.
Within a few keystrokes he’d tracked down recent credit card activity with the same name at boutiques along King Street. He sent in the last man remaining on his payroll, with clear instructions to eliminate the woman.
A new message light flashed on his phone and he opened it immediately.
He read the message twice, breathing a sigh of relief that something was finally going right. It appeared his reluctant assassin would be taking care of the contract this evening and Hackett was invited to watch.