The Perfect Murder by Kat Martin
SEVENTEEN
The Dallas Police Department downtown on South Lamar was a recently remodeled five-story red-and-beige structure. Kenzie imagined it was supposed to look welcoming, a symbol of stability in the Dallas community. It just looked daunting to her.
Reese walked beside her as they pushed through the front doors. An attractive man with silver-threaded light brown hair came forward as they approached.
“Nate.” Reese extended his hand. “Appreciate your coming on such short notice.”
“No problem.” In an expensive black three-piece suit, Nathan Temple oozed dignity and class, and there was an air of confidence about him that Kenzie found comforting.
“This is McKenzie Haines,” Reese said.
“A pleasure, Ms. Haines,” Nate said.
“It’s just Kenzie. Thank you for helping.”
They exchanged a few pleasantries, then Temple led her down a long corridor to where Detective Ford waited. They went into a stark white interview room with a mirror on one wall—two-way glass, she imagined, just like in the movies. It was chilly in the room. Kenzie shivered as she sat down in a metal chair across from Detective Ford. She felt Reese’s coat drape around her shoulders before he sat down.
“We’ll take it slow and easy,” the detective said. “As long as you tell the truth, you have nothing to worry about.”
She nodded. “All right.”
“Tell me about the gun.”
Kenzie sat up straighter. “The last I knew of it, Lee had the gun. He took it from me during the divorce.” She went on to tell him the same story she had told Reese. The detective made notes, though he had told her it was being recorded.
“When was the last time you saw your ex-husband?”
“Not since he came to the hospital to check on Griff the day he fell off his bicycle.”
“Speaking of hospitals.” Ford got up and walked away. He returned with a manila envelope he set on the table, reached in and pulled out a set of photographs he spread open for her to see. Kenzie’s stomach clenched seeing the pictures from when she was married, the photos taken at the hospital, pictures of her body, covered with bruises on her arms, legs, and torso.
“What the hell?” Reese said, his gaze slamming into hers. Kenzie glanced away.
“Your ex-husband had a history of abusing you,” Ford said. “Is that correct?”
She couldn’t look at Reese. “It only happened two times and it was over a period of several years.”
“You came into the emergency room on both those occasions. I have other photos if you need to see them. The second incident mentions fractured ribs.”
“I assure you, I haven’t forgotten.” She flicked a glance at Reese, whose jaw looked hard as stone.
“What about your son?” Ford asked. “Was Lee also abusive to Griffin?”
“No. In his own, self-centered way, he loved his son. Lee never touched him. I was the one he blamed for whatever problems he was having.”
“Why didn’t you leave the bastard?” Reese asked harshly.
Her face burned with humiliation. She hated that she had been so weak. “I stayed for Griff. I had no money. I couldn’t afford a decent place for us to live. So I stayed.”
“What changed?” the detective asked.
“I convinced Lee to let me take classes at the community college. I told him I was bored. I needed something to do, and because he didn’t want me working, he agreed. I got a friend to sit with Griff while I was at school, and I was always home by the time Lee got there at the end of the day.”
“You completed the courses?” Ford asked.
Kenzie nodded. “After I got my degree, I got a part-time job. Like before, I was always home when Lee arrived, so he mostly didn’t mind.”
“Mostly,” Ford repeated. “He didn’t like you working. Is that the reason he beat you?”
She shook her head, her dark curls sliding around her shoulders. “It wasn’t that. The times he hit me, he was drunk or had some kind of upset at work. Except for those two occasions, he usually just called me names. As soon as I’d saved enough money, I packed up, left, and filed for divorce. In the settlement I got enough to rent a place to live. My grandmother came to stay with us and after that things got better.”
“Did you kill him because you were afraid that if he got custody he might abuse your son? If so that would mitigate the circumstances of the murder. Is that want happened?”
“No. I had nothing to do with Lee’s death.”
“So you never resented the beatings your ex-husband gave you?” Ford asked.
Temple reached across the table and gently caught her arm. “You don’t have to answer that, Kenzie. I’m sure Detective Ford is smart enough to understand you’ve been past that kind of thinking for some time. You’ve been looking forward, not backward since then.”
It was true, she thought. She’d never forgiven Lee for the way he’d treated her, but she’d moved on. He was still Griff’s father. She hadn’t wanted him dead.
Ford shoved the hospital photos back into the manila folder. “Do you have a key to your ex-husband’s home, Ms. Haines?”
“No.”
“What about your son? Does he have a key?”
Kenzie moistened her lips and reminded herself it was better to tell the truth. “Lee gave Griff a key in case he ever needed it.”
“So you had access?”
She looked up. “I would never go into Lee’s house without permission.”
“There was no forced entry, Ms. Haines. No shattered windows, no broken locks. Someone just opened the door, walked right in, and shot him.”
Her temper heated. “Well, it wasn’t me.”
Reese leaned toward the detective. “There are a lot of ways of getting into a house without a key. A good set of lock picks will do the trick.”
Ford turned his hard gaze on Reese. “You’re saying you could do it?”
Ford was a friend of Chase’s. He probably knew at least a little about Reese’s past. Kenzie knew Reese was involved in Teen Challenge and several other outreach groups for troubled teens. In magazine interviews he talked about his problems as a youth—hard as it was for Kenzie to imagine. He wasn’t proud of his past, but he never denied it.
Reese kept his eyes on the detective’s face. “I could. But I didn’t.”
Nathan Temple rose from the table. “I read the report, Detective. You have no fingerprints, no DNA, no gunshot residue, and aside from the fact that the pistol was registered to Ms. Haines, no way to connect her to the murder. You’ll need a lot more than that if you expect to bring charges against her.”
Kenzie prayed the attorney was right. But aside from her amazing son, since the day she’d met Lee, he had never brought her anything but grief.
The detective rose from the table. “We may have more questions. In the meantime, don’t leave town.” He flicked a glance at Reese. “That applies to both of you.”
