Killer Move - Michael Marshall [40]
I walked over. “You okay?”
“Kind of. The police are on their way.”
“Why?”
“They think David Warner might be dead.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
They arrived twenty minutes later. I was still sitting with Karren, whose take on the situation boiled down to: it wasn’t like we’d really known the guy, but, you know, wow, freaky shit. My own take was more complicated. So complicated, in fact, that I was glad to have Karren’s to listen to instead. The police car finally came around the loop and parked in front of our office. Deputy Hallam got out the driver’s side, Sheriff Barclay the other. I’d often thought, somewhat dismissively, that if you wanted to cast a typical good old boy sheriff, Barclay would be perfect. Over six feet tall, big hands, broad shouldered, that gut. As he walked over toward our table, however, he didn’t look like someone you should dismiss in any way at all.
“Morning, Mr. Moore. And you’re Karren White?”
We agreed that was who we were.
“You want to take this into your office?”
I shook my head. “Here’s good.” I didn’t want to be taken inside. It would have felt as if I had something to hide from general view.
Barclay gestured at Hallam, who pulled over a couple of chairs. “You know why we’re here?”
“Karren told me. So . . . what’s happened, exactly?”
“We knew that, we wouldn’t be here. Or we’d be here differently.”
Karren spoke sharply. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t get me wrong,” the sheriff said. “I don’t think either of you has anything at all to do with David Warner’s disappearance. I mean, from what Ms. White told me, you were hoping to sell his house.”
“That’s correct,” I said.
“Right now we’re not sure what happened, or when. Two hours ago we entered the Warner property. We discovered evidence that he may have been abducted, and could also have been either injured or even killed.”
“ ‘Evidence’?”
“The digital record from his security system has been removed. CSI found traces of blood in the kitchen, and something that looks like a bullet impact site. An initial workup says the blood is likely Warner’s, but until we get confirmation, we’re freewheeling. My deputy and I are trying to fill some gaps in the meantime.”
“Okay,” I said. “Deputy Hallam was pretty thorough this morning, though. I don’t know if there’s anything I can add.”
Karren turned to look at me. “I got a visit before I came into work,” I told her, trying to make it sound on a level with a visit from the pool cleaner. “I didn’t mention it because . . . well, the guy had been missing less than a day.”
She nodded, but I could see her thinking: Maybe so—but nonetheless, you brought Warner up the minute I walked into the office. Which is odd, right?
She looked at her watch. “I just realized I have an appointment,” she said to Barclay. “Okay if I head back to the office, make a call to postpone it?”
“Sure,” the sheriff said. “We’ll drop by when we’re done speaking with Mr. Moore.”
“Here’s the thing,” he went on, when Karren had gone. He put a sheet of paper on the table. It looked like a blown-up photocopy of a page from a notebook, with additional annotations in a firm hand. “I’ve got a record of what you told my deputy, and we’ve got an issue to resolve with some of that information.”
“What kind of issue?”
“You were supposed to meet with Mr. Warner on Tuesday evening, right? He didn’t show, and rearranged through his assistant. That’s what you said.”
“Yes,” I said.
“Okay. Well, she says that didn’t happen.”
“What? Which part?”
“Any of it. We spoke with, uh, Melania Gilkyson, an hour ago. She denies speaking with you on Tuesday evening or at any other time.”
“That’s bullshit,” I said angrily, pulling my phone out. “It’s right here in my call record.”
“Thing is,” the cop said, “that’s not Ms. Gilkyson’s number.”
“Well, that’s the number she called me on. And I called