Free Deadlock by DiAnn Mills Page B

When she didn’t respond, he continued, “We need to ask you a few more questions, preferably at our office.”
    “What kind of questions?”
    “Your father is a person of interest.”
    “Why aren’t you talking to him?”
    “He’ll be coming later.”
    She released an expletive he no longer used. “My mother’s memorial service is at two this afternoon.”
    “You’re not surprised by my call, Carly. Special Agent Sanchez and I read your body language. You didn’t want a thing to do with your father yesterday.”
    “Right,” she whispered. “I expected you to contact me.”
    “Do you or Shannon have reason to be afraid?” Her silence told him all he wanted to know. “Do you want us to pick you up?”
    “I can be there around ten thirty,” Carly said. “The office on 290? Big green building?”
    “Yes. You can bring your sister, especially if she’s concerned about her safety.”
    “Shannon spent the night with a friend. She and Dad get along okay. It’s me who has the big mouth and refuses to take his orders.”
    Thatcher confirmed the time again, then noted the interview on his phone’s calendar. He was quickly beginning to value Bethany’s perception, although she’d not refer to it as intuition. “How are you?” He pointed to his chair. “This is not the hot seat, but a clear-the-air seat.”
    “Is this a part of my training?”
    “Didn’t you read the manual?”
    “Yes, but this part must have slipped my mind.” She eased onto the chair. “Now what?” She felt under the seat. “No gum here or wires to record my responses.”
    He chuckled. “Okay, your eyes tell me little sleep. If it’s personal, none of my business, except you have to be alert for the job. If you spent the night beating yourself up over yesterday, then we need to talk.”
    “Not personal. I studied the behavioral habits of serial killers, in case you’re right.”
    “Tell me what you’ve learned. My guess is you memorized all the reports.”
    She massaged her neck muscles. “From the top ten characteristics of serial killers, which you already know, I’m aware of what to look for when we conduct interviews.”
    He nodded. “And?”
    “Social outcasts. Highly intelligent. Lousy home life. Substance abuse. The same list could be applied to any criminal.” Her eyes clouded for a moment. “I studied a serial murder report on asymposium done in August and September of 2005. Were you there?”
    “No, but my partner was. Bethany, I’m glad you’re diligent, but you also need your rest.”
    “I will . . . tonight.”
    “Great. Why didn’t you tell me you had diabetes?”
    She blew out frustration. “It’s controlled with diet, and I plan to have snacks with me all the time. Looks like my trust level with you has hit bottom.”
    “We can only move up.”

CHAPTER 13
    10:45 A.M. TUESDAY
    Thatcher and Bethany sat across from Carly Javon at a table in an FBI interview room. He handed the young woman a bottle of water. Her tangled, auburn hair indicated more of a crisis than the absence of a hairbrush. When Thatcher had met her at the Javon home, he’d noted an attractive young woman who sharply resembled her mother. She also had a pronounced limp. His suspicions about the family grew. Yesterday she endured tough questions, but her appearance wasn’t unkempt. What had happened?
    Carly uncapped the bottle of water with shaky fingers and took a drink. “Thanks. It’s good and cold. This is being recorded, right?”
    “Yes.” He allowed his eyes to speak caring into his words. “You have a limp.”
    “Temporary.” She replaced the cap, avoiding him. “I fell down the stairs.”
    “Like your mother?”
    She picked at chipped, deep-purple nail polish. “We’re both clumsy.”
    “Did you both fall the same way?”
    She snapped to attention. “Are the injuries relevant to finding her killer?” Her trembling lips betrayed fragile emotions.
    “Depends if your mother’s broken arm was the result of