Cause of Death Laura Dembowski (best selling autobiographies txt) 📖

her notebook, “Zack Williams is his name—he says he was her friend, and he just found out she died. He doesn’t think she would have killed herself. She was going to move out of her parents’ place, had some big job offer. He says they were kind of dating. Has pictures too.”

Proof! Real proof!

I drop my mug. It’s fine—it’s shatterproof, and I no longer need coffee. In fact, I feel like someone has shot adrenaline directly into my bloodstream.

“Where is he?” I ask, not even bothering to pick up the mug.

“Interrogation.”

I follow Kate there and we stand in the observation room first so I can scope him out. Zack looks legitimately upset, maybe a little scared; police stations do that to people. He’s a nice-looking guy and he’s wearing a suit and tie, complete with the jacket, which is more than most people can say on this sunny, blazing hot summer day, me included, the air-conditioning hanging on by a thread.

Kate and I chat for a minute about tactics, but we don’t really need them. This guy’s not the enemy. He’s our friend, our best friend. We go in together.

“Lana didn’t kill herself,” Zack says the moment we walk in.

I get that he’s in disbelief that Lana’s gone, but his eagerness to share this information with us is slightly suspicious. I still need this guy on my side, but I’m keeping my eye on him. Maybe Margaret’s not guilty. Or maybe she had help. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid.

“For the record, I’m Detective Kirkpatrick, and you’ve already met Detective Hutchinson.”

“Yes, I did. This doesn’t make any sense. I talked to Lana every day; she never said anything about killing herself, not even that she was depressed.”

“Did she mention anyone threatening her?” Kate asks.

He sits for a moment, racking his brain; trying to remember conversations they’d had over the past few months? Then again, maybe he was just stalling, thinking about what he’s going to have for lunch.

“She didn’t tell me about any threats, and I certainly hope she would have.”

“What about her parents?” I ask. “Did she have a good relationship with them?”

“Her mom was a pain in her ass. All over her every time she left the house. Her mom’s the reason she moved back to town in the first place.”

“Where were you on the night of June twenty-third, from ten p.m. until eight the next morning, June twenty-fourth?” Kate asks.

Zack gives us a look. He’s confused. He’s probably regretting walking into the station right about now.

It amazes me how many criminals come in to talk to us, acting like witnesses or friends. They think that by coming to us, they will cross themselves off the list of suspects, but we’ve all been through too many cases to fall into that trap. Saying you’re innocent doesn’t mean you are. So many people maintain their innocence even when all the evidence is stacked against them.

Not that we have an ounce of evidence against Zack at this moment.

“I was at home,” he says.

“Alone?” Kate asks.

“Yeah. My roommate moved out a couple weeks ago.” At least he’s not involving his roommate in his potential lies. “I got Lana a job.”

“Where was this job?” I ask.

“Where I work. She’s”—he looks down—“she was smart and good at what she did. My boss said she was the best candidate he’d seen in a long time.”

“What’s the name of the place?”

“McKellan Advertising. She was excited to start, and trying to decide on a place to live. Then, when she didn’t show, I texted and called her, and it turns out she was dead.”

“Did you think about moving in together?” Kate asks.

“She was going to stay with me the night before she died.”

Well, that’s interesting. Maybe Margaret changed Lana’s mind for her.

“But she didn’t?” Kate asks.

“No. She called me and said her mom apologized for threatening to kill her, and she was going to stay one more night.”

Our jaws drop at the same time.

“Margaret threatened to kill her?” I gasp.

“Yeah, but it’s not how it sounds,” Zack says, as though he’s the guilty one here. How is it not how it sounds? Margaret threatened to kill her and then she turned up dead.

“Her mom threatened to kill her all the time.”

“And she just put up with it?” I ask.

“Her mom threatened to kill herself, too, but neither of us thought she had that in her.”

“Sure,” I say.

We wrap up with Zack.

“Am I a suspect?” he asks.

“Not at this time,” I say, knowing we pretty much have only one suspect.

Chapter 10

Ryan

I spot Tracy the moment I walk into the restaurant. I’m not late, having made sure I left the station in plenty of time. Left Kate with a big mess of paperwork to file so we can get a warrant for McKellan Advertising’s records, but she said it was fine. Maybe it was fine, maybe it wasn’t, but I had to go with it.

Tracy’s all dressed up. She’s got her brown hair in a twist and the candlelight is making it gleam like silk, that black dress with one shoulder she likes, clinging to her body in all the right spots. It looks nice with the gold stick earrings that graze her shoulders, especially when she’s slumped over, like she is right now, sitting at the table, waiting for me to arrive, looking rather sad and a bit pathetic. It’s the tale of two Tracys right there in front of me.

Even though I’m not late, I can tell she’s growing impatient, wishing I had been there half an hour early, leaning against the bar, waiting for her. I breeze in, wearing my work clothes, rumpled from having been worn all day. Tracy works in retail for a fancy department store. She likes it and it pays fine, so it’s all good with me. Plus, she always has stories to tell, kind of like me; it’s just a different side of society. We each very often see the worst in people, though.

As soon as she sees me,