Betrayal - Fern Michaels [90]
Even though his best friend had screwed around with his wife, got her pregnant, then went on with his life, Alex hadn’t deserved to die. Don had spent many hours wondering why Debbie put Sara up to such a charade. He had yet to figure it out. He’d tried looking through more of her journals and found nothing. He concluded that Debbie was jealous of Kate and her life with Alex. She did what she did out of pure spite, and nothing more.
He took a swig of vodka straight from the bottle. It had little effect on him. He finished it off, then went in search of another. One thing he could thank Debbie for: she kept him supplied with plenty of booze, took care of the household bills, and basically left him alone. He wasn’t even sure why they were still married. The girls were grown, and he was sure that Sara couldn’t have cared less if her parents were married, divorced, or dead. Emily had split after graduation and rarely called. Debbie probably liked having him around just so she would have someone to lord it over. She was that way.
The shrill ringing of the phone made him jump, spilling liquor all over the white sheets. Who cared? The phone continued to ring.
He leaned across the bed and grabbed the portable phone from the nightstand.
“Yeah?” he called into the phone. He’d lost whatever class he had long ago and knew it.
“I’m looking for Don Winter,” a male voice said.
“You are, huh? Well, who’s looking, and I might see if I can find him.” Don laughed at his own sick humor.
“My name is Coleman Fitzpatrick.”
Isn’t he the attorney who got Alex’s conviction overturned right before Alex was killed?
“So what do you want with me?”
“Then I’m speaking to Mr. Winter?” the voice on the other end questioned.
“No, this is a recording. Of course it’s Mr. Winter.”
“I see. I have caught you at a bad time, I take it,” Coleman said.
“Why do you think that?” Don asked. He was having fun screwing with the man.
“You sound . . . tired.”
“You mean drunk? Yeah, well, I am. I’m drunk all the time. I like it, too. So what do you think of that, Mr. Coleman?”
“I think that’s a sad place to be, Mr. Winter. Now, if you would like to know why I’m calling.”
“Hey, that was my next question. So, what do you want?”
“I know you were a good friend of Alex Rocket’s.”
Don felt like he’d been kicked in the gut. “So? The man’s dead.”
“I’m aware of that. I’m trying to find his widow, Kate Rocket. I thought you or your wife might have . . . I thought you might know how I could locate her.” “Well, if that doesn’t beat a rug to shreds. Why in the hell would you think me or my wife would know where Kate is? Her perverted husband molested my daughter. Do you think we cared what happened to her? Hell, no, we don’t.” “Then I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thanks for your time,” Coleman said.
“Hey, wait a minute. Don’t hang up. Haven’t you called that dog house in North Carolina? Kate’s probably there with a new man to look after her parents’ puppies. Yeah, I bet that’s exactly where she’s at.” Don laughed into the phone.
“Thank you for your time, Mr. Winter.”
Click.
Damn, he hung up. Wouldn’t you know it, just when I had Alex on the brain, I hear from his old attorney. Will miracles never cease.
Still, he was curious, even though he was half-lit. He’d call Debbie at her office. She was nosy as hell. She might know what Coleman Fitzpatrick wanted.
He dialed her private number. If she was there, she would answer.
“Debbie Winter,” she said when she picked up the phone.
“It’s me.”
“What, you’re out of booze already?” she said.
“No, I’m not. I was going to tell you that a certain lawyer called, but if you’re going to be a bitch, forget it.”
“What lawyer?” she urged.
He could hear the sudden tension in her voice. Maybe she was in some kind of trouble. He could only hope.
“Coleman Fitzpatrick.”
He heard her intake of breath.
“What did he want?”
“I don’t know. He was looking for Kate.”
“After all these years, why would he be looking for Kate? Unless there’s money he’s