Dead by Midnight - Beverly Barton [15]
“He gave me the basic details—that your wife was murdered approximately one month ago, the police have done all they can and have no suspects in the case, and you want to hire the Powell Agency to do an independent investigation.”
Tagg leaned over, his shoulders slouching with weariness, and sank his large, clasped hands between his spread knees. With his gaze directed to the floor, he breathed in heavily and released a deep, tortured sigh.
“You have no idea what it’s like to see your wife’s dead body lying in her own blood…to know that she suffered.” Tagg choked with emotion.
Barbara Jean’s gaze locked with Sanders’s and without saying a word she conveyed her concern. He closed his eyes for just for a second and she understood exactly what he was reliving in that dark moment and how the other man’s words had touched a sharp, painful chord in Sanders’s very private memories.
Sanders cleared his throat. “I’ll oversee the case personally, but I’ll put one of our top agents in charge of the investigation. His name is Holt Keinan. I called him in from Knoxville last night and he’s ready to return to Memphis with you today to handle things in the field. He will need your full cooperation. Do you understand?”
“He’ll have it,” Tagg assured Sanders.
“Whatever you share with us will go no further, even if you’ve been involved with anything illegal. But in order for us to do our job, we have to know about anything that might have the slightest bearing on your wife’s murder.”
“No one I’m associated with killed her. I’m sure of that. Nobody was out to get me through Hilary.”
“Nevertheless, we will be digging into your and your wife’s personal lives, past and present.”
Tagg clenched his teeth and nodded.
“The more you can tell us, the more time we can save investigating and having to find out things you could have told us.” Sanders paused, giving Tagg a chance to inject information into their conversation. He didn’t. Sanders continued. “You seem to think there’s no one in your life who posed a threat to you or your wife—what about someone in your wife’s life? Somebody from her past? Or someone—?”
“It’s no secret that for a while, when she was in her early twenties, Hilary went from being a Las Vegas showgirl to a star in several low-budget adult movies.”
“By adult you mean pornographic movies?”
“Yeah. Hilary was a beautiful woman. She had a great body. And she loved showing it off. She loved life…loved sex. When we met, she gave up the movie business and her agent was none too happy. This guy wore two hats, one as an agent and another as a producer of porno flicks. He told Hilary that she’d regret leaving him to marry me, that she’d miss the business and come back to him the first time she caught me in bed with another woman.”
“Did she?” Sanders asked.
When Tagg looked him in the eye, his gaze questioning, Sanders clarified. “Did she ever catch you with another woman?”
“From the day we married, there was never anyone else for either of us. It’s been that way for the past seven years.”
“Who was this guy, the agent-cum-producer?”
“Travis Dillard.”
“Did your wife have any contact with him over the past seven years or perhaps only recently?”
“No, none, not over the years or recently.”
“We will check into it, find out if there is any reason to think he might be involved.” Sanders glanced at Barbara Jean. “See if Holt is free to join us and then have coffee prepared and served in approximately twenty minutes.”
“Certainly.” Barbara Jean wheeled out of the room and headed straight for the kitchen. Holt would be there having a late breakfast. She had spoken to him less than fifteen minutes before Tagg Chambless’s arrival.
The moment Cam Hendrix had contacted Sanders to tell him about Hilary Chambless’s murder, she had known Sanders would agree to take the case. He identified with any man who had lost his wife in such a brutal way. And each time he became involved in a case such as this, he relived his own wife’s death at the hands of a monster.
Charles Wong placed the letter back in the envelope,