A Necessary Evil(41)

“Detective Jamison, I think you should leave.”

The detectives looked at each other again, and Mollie felt a twinge of pride at her mother’s loyalty and protectiveness. She stifled a smile.

They stood and headed toward the front door. But as Howard reached for the doorknob, Jamison turned around and looked at Kitty, who was now standing behind Mollie’s chair with her hands on her daughter’s shoulders.

“I’m not stupid, Kitty. I’ve known what your father is about for almost forty years now.”

“You two used to be best friends,” Kitty said.

“Yeah. That was before he…never mind. Just know this. If I find out you helped him get away with this in any way, I will slap the cuffs on you and haul you down to the station myself. Are we clear?”

“As a bell, Detective.”

Mollie could see the detective’s veins throbbing at his temples. He looked like he was about to say something else, but then quietly turned, exited the house, and slammed the door behind him.

Kitty looked down at Mollie after a few seconds of silence. “Do you know what Pops is up to?”

“No,” Mollie said. “But whatever it is, more power to him.”





Chapter 21




Kurt



He was exhausted by the time his Camaro pulled into the driveway around one in the morning. He felt as though he was walking through quicksand as he trudged down the sidewalk to his front door. The last thirty-six hours had been grueling, and Kurt hadn’t slept a wink. He was so exhausted, he could barely get the key in the lock, but he eventually managed and pushed the door open with his boot.

It took a couple tries, but he got the light flipped on. Kurt studied his humble abode. To the right was his galley kitchen where the dishes were starting to pile up. Just ahead was his living room, where he’d dumped a load of clean clothes on the brown suede couch a few days prior. Kurt had spent so little time at home over the last two years, he didn’t even bother to try to keep the house perfectly clean. Besides, it wasn’t like there was anyone to impress.

There was his little sister Luanne, of course. But she lived in Georgetown and rarely drove over to Lexington to visit. She was a general practice lawyer and had three boys between the ages of twelve and twenty-two, so as a single working mother, she rarely had time for her brother. His father had died three years ago, and his mother followed within a year. He had very few friends, save the other detectives on the squad and a few of the older uniforms he’d worked with before earning his badge. But he couldn’t blame his loneliness on them. They tried to get him to hang out all the time, but Kurt just wasn’t a social butterfly. He preferred to stay home on his off days and listen to classic rock and read Ken Follett books.

Then there was his love life, which was nonexistent. Ever since his brief, childless marriage to Donna Davidson had ended bitterly after only two years back in the late eighties, Kurt had dated a string of women. Most of them wanted children. Kurt didn’t. He’d even had a vasectomy right after his divorce. After he saw what Addie’s death had done to his parents, he couldn’t imagine brining a child into the world. Not when there were people like Julian McAllister who were capable of doing unspeakable things to them. He couldn’t envision losing a child, so he figured best not to have any in the first place.

His most recent girlfriend, Anna, the one who had recommended holistic medicine for his back, was probably the best one he’d ever had. She cooked for him, cleaned for him, and was more patient with him than he deserved. Ultimately, though, she grew frustrated with his refusal to eat a vegan diet, meditate, or do yoga. Kurt never understood any of that new age mumbo jumbo and thought it was for hippies or millennials, or whatever they’re calling kids of this generation. So, she’d packed up her bags and left one day when he was at work. He’d come home to an empty house and a Post-it on the fridge that read “Sorry. I just can’t.”

With the ghosts of girlfriends past floating around, the house felt emptier and lonelier than usual. But God, he was tired, so he didn’t really care. He just wanted to lie down, clear his mind, and get some much-needed sleep.

Kurt kicked off his boots by the couch and began shedding his suit as he walked down the short hallway toward his bedroom. He was in his boxers by the time he shuffled into the room and flung himself face down on the bed. After a few seconds of deep relaxation breathing—a habit that annoyingly still hung on long after Anna’s departure—he rolled over, pulled the blankets up to his chin, and lay there staring at the popcorn ceiling.

His thoughts turned immediately to Frankie, Mollie, and Collin. He tried to push them from his mind, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he continued to obsess over things that were beyond his control. And Frankie was definitely beyond his control. Again. History was repeating itself, and Kurt felt powerless to stop it. He knew Frankie had Collin McAllister holed up somewhere on one of his properties, or God only knew where else, and if he didn’t find them soon, Collin would suffer the same fate his father had at the hands of the same man.

Kurt could still recall the day he learned exactly what his best friend was capable of. He hadn’t really believed Frankie that day on his porch when he’d sworn to take care of the bastard who had killed Addie. Everyone talked that way when someone they loved was brutally murdered. Everyone said they were going to kill the person who took their loved one away from them. So, when Frankie had stood there on Kurt’s front porch and vowed to get revenge, Kurt had assumed he was blowing smoke.