Page 61 of I’ll Be Watching You

“He’s being careful,” Jack said. “He’s at the crime lab all day and promised not to leave. I also told him he’s staying with me at Mom’s house, at least for the next couple days.”

“He didn’t tell me,” Quincy grumbled. Then, “We’ll be back as soon as Ava sits down with Cooper and she gets the answers she needs.”

“Speaking of answers,” Jack said, “any word on what happened with the transfer? Who requested it?”

“No. Can’t get anything. Even my boss says it’s unusual. He wants me to stay out of it because of my connection to your family, but he’s digging. If I hear anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Appreciate it. When I’m done here, I’m heading to the lab to talk to Nico about the shooting.”

Quincy nodded. “Nico sent me the updated police report. The female victim didn’t have her phone in the vehicle, and it wasn’t at the house. GPS tracking shows the last location at her residence.”

Jack frowned. “The killer had time to take her phone?”

“Possibly,” Quincy said.

“I hear a but.”

“The timing would be very tight. Shoot them, the car continues in Reverse and crashes, then he searches for her phone? I’d think someone would have seen him.”

“Your theory?” Jack asked.

“It’s just a guess,” Quincy said, “but if the shooter held them at gunpoint and demanded her phone, they may have thought it was simply a robbery. Handed it over. Then he shot them and left.”

“Margo,” Jack whispered. “Liz called her from that cell.”

“If they can break the passcode.”

“I can’t assume that they haven’t, or that they didn’t get the code from Liz before they shot her.” That put Margo at the top of their list. They could have had that information for forty-eight hours, since Tuesday morning. No one had gone after Margo yet, but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching her.

“Tell Margo not to go anywhere alone.”

“She assures me she won’t, but she’s stubborn,” Jack said. “I’ll give her the information, but the fact that no one has gone after her in two days might mean they couldn’t get the information they wanted.”

“Or, they want to see what she knows.”

Jack walked back to his mother. He hugged her tightly, then watched as Quincy guided both women into the security line. He stood there until they disappeared from sight.

Then he pulled out his phone and called Margo. No answer.

He left a message: “The killer has Liz Swanson’s phone. Assume he knows she called you.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Margo Angelhart

I arrived at Honor House at ten thirty Thursday morning. The facility was a sprawling, cream-painted brick ranch-style building on Central Avenue, south of Camelback, with a two-story addition in the back that tried to keep the same look and feel as the main structure. It was flanked by a small business complex on one side, and condos on the other. An American flag waved in the light breeze, signaling a safe haven for vets. It was both comforting and sad because I knew that the veterans who came here had hit rock bottom and were asking for help.

As a vet myself, I knew most of us hated asking for help. Whether it was hard-wired into people who chose military service, or something we learned during training, we generally felt we should be able to solve our own problems and didn’t always recognize when we couldn’t. The community of support was there, we just had to seek it.

The entry had once been a grand living room, now converted into a comfortable sitting area with couches, games, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A reception desk separated the room from the front door, but no one was there. A dozen or so men and women, most under forty, were talking, playing games, or reading in the room. One young man who couldn’t be more than twenty-five sat in a wheelchair, one leg propped up and one leg missing, staring out French doors into a rose garden that separated the main house from the two-story apartments.

Grace approached from one of the wings. “Margo, it is so good to see you again.”

I hadn’t remembered meeting Grace, but assumed we had. “Likewise,” I said. “It’s been a while.”

“Years,” she said with a light laugh. “Your mom called and said you were going to stop by. How may I help you?”

“Do you have a few minutes to talk in private?”