A Necessary Evil(17)

He waved her off, but the words were caught in his throat. He grabbed the back of a chair to steady himself as his mind swam with images of all the things he’d done over the last thirty years or so. Some of the faces of his victims were still clear in his mind, but not many. Guilt was not an emotion Franklin Cartwright felt often. Every choice he’d made, he’d made for the furtherance of his family and his empire. Every choice, that was, except for one.

The memory slapped him in the face and left him breathless. In an instant, he knew why his granddaughter had been kidnapped. He knew what he had done to deserve this torment.

Once again, it all came back to Addie.





Chapter 9




Kurt



This was one conversation he was not looking forward to. Not one iota. Speaking to victims’ parents was always the hardest part of a detective’s job, especially when he still had no answers to give them. But this wasn’t just any victim’s parent. It was Kitty. Franklin Cartwright’s only daughter and the girl who might have been Kurt’s goddaughter, had things turned out the way they were supposed to all those years ago.

Kurt could still remember that warm Saturday in July when they were ten years old, fishing by the Kentucky River. Frankie had cut his thumb on a fishhook, and they’d both gawked at the ooze of crimson spilling from the tiny tear in his pale skin. Without hesitating, Kurt had pulled his Swiss Army knife out of his jeans pocket and pricked his thumb. They boys had smooshed their thumbs together and sworn to be brothers for life. But that was before.

Now, not only was Kurt not Kitty’s godfather, they were virtually strangers. So to say Kurt was nervous as he walked up the pavers lining the walkway to Kitty’s front porch would be an understatement. There was a pit in his empty stomach as he climbed the steps and rang the doorbell. Kurt ran a hand through his closely cropped gray hair then undid the top button of his shirt.

The door swung open seconds later, revealing a thin woman with a messy blonde bob and dark circles under her hazel eyes. She looked surprised to see him at first, but when Kurt held up his badge, the woman gestured for him to come inside.

“Detective Kurt Jamison,” Kurt said as he stepped into the foyer. His eyes were immediately drawn to the large canvas portrait of Mollie which hung smack in the middle of the wall to his left. Her high school senior picture, he guessed. She was leaning against a birch tree, her head was cocked playfully to the side, and her arms were crossed loosely across her chest.

“I know who you are,” Kitty said, refocusing Kurt’s attention. “Daddy said you’d probably pay a visit. Please, come inside.”

Kurt stepped deeper into the foyer and looked to his right. On the wall opposite the senior portrait were dozens of pictures of Mollie in frames of varying shapes and sizes, arranged in a neat collage. There was no disputing the fact that Mollie was well-loved.

Kitty turned and shuffled down the hallway and took a left. Kurt followed her closely. The next room they entered was the kitchen. The cabinets were painted white, the countertops were made of gray and white marble, and the brand-new appliances were stainless steel. It didn’t take a detective to deduce Daddy had helped a bit with the house and its furnishings. There was no way a single mom who worked as a part-time secretary at a law firm could have afforded a house like this.

“Would you like some coffee? Tea? I have both,” Kitty offered with a wan smile.

“Some coffee would be great.” It was going on three o’clock, and Kurt hadn’t had a bite to eat since before Frankie had stepped into the precinct. He’d been managing on a steady diet of caffeine and nicotine all day, but one more cup couldn’t hurt, could it?

The coffee pot trembled in Kitty’s frail hand as she poured two cups of joe. “Cream and sugar?”

“Black, thanks.”

Kitty handed him a full cup, and Kurt noticed Kitty’s manicure had taken a beating. The ends were chipped, and he could only guess she’d been chewing on them since last night.

“I’d like to talk to you about Mollie,” Kurt blurted. No need delaying the inevitable, and there were only so many hours in the day.

“Of course.” Kitty set her own coffee cup back down and leaned her waif-thin hip against the counter. “Please tell me you’ve found something, anything that will bring Mollie home safe and sound.” Her bottom lip quivered as she spoke, and tears threatened to spill across her high cheekbones.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt said. “I wish I was here with better news…any news at all, actually. We’ve run down the only couple of leads we have so far, and we’ve come up empty. I wish I had more to tell you. In fact, I was hoping I could take a look at Mollie’s room.”

“Her room?” Kitty’s eyes widened, and her hand flew to her heart. “But why…”

“You never know,” Kurt said quickly. “I doubt there’s anything in there that would be of much use to us, but it’s worth a shot. At the very least, I can learn a bit more about Mollie.”

“Oh, sure, sure. Right this way. It’s upstairs.” Kitty pushed herself from the counter, walked around the kitchen table, and opened a door Kurt hadn’t noticed until then. “When Mollie started college, she took over the attic upstairs. She converted it to an apartment. Follow me.”

Kurt followed Kitty up the steep wooden steps. When they reached the summit, they turned a corner, and the room opened up into a large area with slanted ceilings, common in old cape cods like this one.