A Merciful Secret (Mercy Kilpatrick #3)(61)

“His body was discovered not long after lunch,” said Mercy.

“What happened to him?” Gabriel asked, his gaze probing.

“He was killed in his apartment. I really can’t discuss more than that.”

“You’re sure it’s murder?” asked Christian.

“Positive.”

“I can’t think of anyone who’d want to hurt him,” Christian said. “He was usually easygoing, but I guess I didn’t know him all that well. I know he did some painting when he wasn’t working here. That’s about it. Does that make me a crappy boss?”

“Ease up on yourself,” suggested Gabriel with sympathy. “You can’t know everyone.”

Christian turned a thoughtful gaze on his brother. “I try very hard to get to know the people who work for me. I think it’s important. But I’ve focused on my employees at the office. Not here at the house. Do they have a suspect?” Christian asked.

“I don’t know yet. But I’ll let the detective know you saw him yesterday, so you’ll probably get another visit.”

He sighed but nodded. “Did Rob have family?”

“I don’t know. But he lived alone.”

“That’s good . . . I guess.”

“The investigator will want to talk to your manager, Brent Rollins.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” said Christian.

“I saw him this morning out by the garage,” added Gabriel. “He was shoveling the walk.”

Christian slumped a bit. “I’ll tell Brent about the death. I wouldn’t say he and Rob were friends, but he’ll still be shocked.”

“Are you done with me?” Gabriel spoke up.

Mercy mentally shifted back to her interview of Gabriel. “No. Did you father ever tell you he was worried for his life? Did he ever express worry for his safety during a case? Did he ever mention threatening letters, calls, or concern over a visitor?” Mercy rattled off the questions.

“No, yes, and yes.” He didn’t expand.

Mercy waited.

“Come on, Gabriel,” Christian urged.

Gabriel shot a look at his brother. “He got a lot of publicity during the D’Angelo trial. People from all over the world sent him mail and tried to call. Some positive contact, but a lot of it wasn’t. People liked that he mouthed off to D’Angelo, but they didn’t like that he wasn’t convicted. Dad got threats, but I don’t think any of the senders got physically close to him. People are comfortable hiding behind a phone or computer screen to say crap. Standing in front of you face-to-face is different.”

“And that was a dozen years ago, right?”

“Right.”

“No more fallout from the case since then?” Mercy included Christian in the question.

He took a quick look at his brother and shook his head. “Not that we’re aware of.”

“That’s the only case you recall where people bothered your father?

Gabriel threw up his hands. “We don’t know. He didn’t tell us anything. Neither of us have lived with him since I was twelve and Christian was eight.”

“Your mother never remarried,” Mercy stated, jumping to a different subject. “And you just said she still cares about your father. Thirty-two years is a long time to carry a torch for someone.”

“She’s not in love with him,” Gabriel said. “Not after what he did to her and us. She simply acknowledges that he helped bring their children into the world.”

“She can’t stand to be in the same room with him,” Christian clarified. “Or the same city.”

“Leaving your wife and kids for another woman is a pretty low thing to do,” Mercy said. “She must have been very angry.”

Gabriel grinned. “I can see what you’re doing. I’m a lawyer, you know.”

“It’s a fair statement,” said Mercy. “You can’t tell me it was rainbows and ponies during their divorce.”

“More like hurricanes and alligators,” said Gabriel. “Our mother wouldn’t wait over thirty years to murder our dad. She would have done it back then. And made him suffer.”

He did suffer.

“Is the FBI ready to start looking for the real murderer?” Gabriel asked. “Are you done hounding our family yet?”

Mercy smiled at him. “I can see what you’re doing. I’m an investigator, you know.”

Christian laughed. “She got you, Gabriel. This is the first step and you know it.”

Gabriel took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “You’re right.” He opened his eyes and a contrite gaze met Mercy’s. “I’m being a jerk. I haven’t slept in three days and my patience is wire thin. I know you’re just doing your job.”

She agreed he looked exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot and his shirt limp and wrinkled. He didn’t seem like the type of man who would let himself appear so disheveled.

“Can we start over? I’ll cooperate.”

She raised a brow at him, slightly skeptical.

“Truly. The FBI was involved in a case of mine a few months ago. You could say I got my ass handed to me. When you said you were with the FBI, every defense I had shot up.”