Free Kill Plan (Ingrid Skyberg FBI Thrillers -) by Eva Hudson Page B

jacket. She turned to Isaac. “Ready?”
    “Sure.”
    They walked the length of a thickly carpeted corridor—it seemed more like the hallway of a five star hotel than an apartment block—and Ingrid leaned on the buzzer of apartment 210. The door opened straightaway, as if Kristin Floyd had been waiting just behind it for their arrival.
    “Thank you for fitting in with my schedule,” Fuller’s girlfriend said. “It’s much appreciated.” Her accent was pure upstate New York.
    Ingrid introduced herself and Isaac as she studied the woman’s face. The eyes were red-rimmed, as were her nostrils. She wasn’t wearing any make-up and her hair hung loose over her shoulders. It looked slightly damp from the shower.
    Isaac stuck out his hand and said, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
    Ingrid flinched a little.
    “Thank you.” Floyd closed the apartment door and led them down a wood-floored hallway to a large, light-filled living room. The room was sparsely furnished, just two couches, a low coffee table sitting on a ten feet by twelve cotton rug, and a large TV mounted on the wall.
    “Do you mind if we speak outside?” the woman asked. “I need a little air.” She grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the coffee table and stepped outside onto a balcony that ran the length of the room.
    By the time all three of them had settled themselves around a small circular aluminum café table, Floyd’s cigarette was already an inch shorter.
    “What is it you want to speak to me about?” Floyd’s voice was steady, as was her gaze. She looked first at Ingrid, then glanced in Isaac’s direction. Isaac wriggled back in the seat and sat a little taller, the sympathetic smile Ingrid had mentioned earlier plastered across his face.
    “I’d like to get a little background on Matthew, if you feel strong enough to talk about him.”
    “Oh I’m plenty strong enough.” Floyd raised an immaculately threaded eyebrow. “Ask me anything you need to. I want to help.” She took a long drag on her cigarette. “Although I may not have all the answers.”
    Ingrid smiled gently at her. “We appreciate any help you can give us.” She pulled out a notebook.
    “Do you know how the police investigation is going? Have there been any threats toward Fisher Krupps?”
    “I’m afraid I can’t comment on the investigation. I only have an overview. I believe the police are making progress.”
    “Who would do a thing like that? Sick bastards.”
    “That’s what the police hope to find out. I’m sure they will.” She flicked through her notebook to a fresh page. “How long had you and Matthew been together?”
    “Just over…” Floyd stopped and looked up toward the early May sky, fluffy white clouds skudded across the blue. “Eight months.”
    “So you knew him well?”
    “Gosh, no, I wouldn’t say that. I barely knew him at all.”
    Ingrid didn’t comment, but leaned in a little closer.
    “Matthew was a very private man.” Floyd almost whispered the words. “He didn’t even really open up to me. It frustrated the hell out of me. We fought about it sometimes.” She took a long drag on her cigarette. “I guess I shouldn’t say things about him like that. Makes me sound a little callous.”
    “Not at all.” Ingrid tried a sympathetic smile of her own. “Did he speak about his family at all?”
    “He doesn’t have one.”
    “He doesn’t?”
    “Not much of one, anyway. He was an only child. His dad died when he was still at school. I guess he’s still pretty close to his mom. Have you spoken to her?”
    Ingrid couldn’t admit they still hadn’t tracked down contact details for the woman. “Not personally, no.”
    “She must be taking it so hard.”
    “You haven’t spoken to her yourself?”
    “I don’t have her number. I’ve never met her. Matthew and I didn’t really have a ‘meet the folks’ relationship.”
    “You weren’t planning to make things more permanent?”
    “Gosh no. We both knew