Keep Quiet(90)

Meanwhile, Sabrina took the lectern, gripped the sides, and cleared her throat. “I am the captain of the Concord Chase girls’ track team, the Lady Chasers, and I thank you all for coming tonight…”

Jake tuned out her speech and mulled it over. Voloshin could have been stalking Kathleen, seen her and Slater together in the BMW when it was parked on Dolomite, then tried to blackmail Slater the same way he tried to blackmail Jake. Slater had a wife and kids, so he would have wanted to keep any relationship he had with Kathleen quiet, which made him a good target for blackmail. Plus Slater was obviously successful, so he had the money to pay. And Slater’s motivation for killing Voloshin could have been that either he didn’t want to pay the blackmail or he didn’t trust Voloshin.

Sabrina was saying, “Mr. Slater told the same story about Kathleen that I was going to, but I can tell it from a different view, her view, which will tell you more about her. We were all so worried about going to his offices and meeting this important businessman, but Kathleen told us not to worry, that he was a normal guy and we should believe in ourselves…”

Jake began to feel as if his hunch was sound. All he had to do to verify it was get to the BMW before Slater did. He focused again on the stage, where Sabrina was finishing her speech. The principal was getting up from her seat to conclude the service, so it was time for Jake to go. He made his way to the back door, slipped into the empty entrance hall, and made a beeline for the exit.

“Jake, that you?” a voice called out behind him.

Jake turned around, and his mouth went dry. Standing in front of a display case with sports trophies was the last person he wanted to see.





Chapter Forty-three


“Jake!” It was Detective Zwerling, standing alone. He was in his dark suit with no overcoat. “What’s your hurry? Trying to beat the traffic?”

Jake slowed his pace, busted. “No, I have to make a phone call.”

“Good, I’ll walk you out.” Detective Zwerling hustled toward him, sliding his leather shoes on the tiled floor, then he fell into step, and they walked to the doors together. “So what brings you here?”

“You know, the memorial service.” Jake told himself to remain calm. The service must have ended, because the crowd filed out of the auditorium doors and surged into the entrance hall, wiping tears, checking phones, and zipping coats.

“Did Ryan know Kathleen Lindstrom?”

“Pardon?” Jake asked, blindsided. He didn’t remember mentioning Ryan’s name to Detective Zwerling. “Uh, no, he didn’t. He came with the basketball team.”

“You came alone, with your son?”

“No, my wife came, too,” Jake answered, hating to bring up Pam. He didn’t know if Detective Zwerling was making conversation or interrogating him, but it felt like the latter. They reached the doors, left the school, and stepped into the cold night air. Jake glanced toward the parking lot, but the BMW was too far away to see in the dark. The crowd flowed noisily around them, and he looked for Slater, but didn’t see him. It would take longer for Slater to get out, since he’d been on the stage. At the fringe of the crowd, the TV klieglights flicked on and cast a pool of light onto the pretty reporter, who raised her microphone and started saying something that Jake couldn’t hear.

“I’d like to meet your wife.” Detective Zwerling half-smiled, his slack jowls draping the corners of his mouth like fleshy curtains. Close-up, his skin looked slightly greasy and he had a five o’clock shadow. “I understand she’s a judge. Where is she?”

“She’s still inside, undoubtedly talking. I wouldn’t wait if I were you.” Jake hadn’t mentioned that Pam was a judge, so they had been investigating him. He prayed it would take her a while to get out of the auditorium, so Detective Zwerling couldn’t see she was a brunette, much less the brunette. Then he wondered if Detective Zwerling knew that already.

“It’s nice you both came.”

“We wanted to show our respect for the family.”

“How do you know them?”

“We don’t. We came because of the school, the community. To show respect, generally.” Jake tried not to sound nervous, but he kept saying the wrong things. The crowd filled the sidewalk, crossed the road to the parking lots, and scattered to their cars. He sneaked a glance at the lot for the BMW and at the crowd for Slater, but no luck. The TV reporter collared a passing mom for an interview, positioning her in the klieglights that filled the area under the canopy with artificial light.

“Sad case, isn’t it?” Detective Zwerling reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of Merits, with a blue Bic lighter stuck in the cellophane. “I hate to see those girls crying. They’re just kids.”

“Yes, it’s very sad.” Jake slid his phone from his pocket. “Excuse me, I’d better make that call—”

“You can’t take a minute to talk? I’m starting to think you don’t like me.” Detective Zwerling made a mock-wounded face as he shook out a cigarette and palmed the lighter. “You like my partner better, don’t you?”

“No, not at all.” Jake forced a smile.

“Come on. Now I know you’re a liar. Everybody likes Woohoo better.” Detective Zwerling laughed abruptly, then plugged his mouth with the cigarette, which flopped around while he spoke. “Hell, so do I.”