Safe In His Arms

TEN MINUTES LATER they were in Bishop’s car, heading for Kenneth’s office. The freeway was a mess as usual, the ever-present construction a daily occurrence for Houston drivers. They merged on I10 at a crawl then slowed down even further, all the lanes that ran downtown at a virtual standstill.

Anise turned to the cop sitting beside her. Finding him in her studio then getting Sarah’s call had flustered her but she didn’t want him to know that. She wasn’t sure why. Generally speaking, she didn’t care what people thought about her yet for some reason she wanted to impress him.

“Tell me what you learned,” she asked in an attempt to regain her bearings. “You said you’d found something?”

He glanced over his shoulder and bullied his way into another lane. “One of the kids who works the valet stand at the restaurant saw a guy running down a side street right after the shooting. He couldn’t see much beyond that, though. The runner had on a sweatshirt with a hood and it was pulled up to hide his face. We’re following up on that. If he saw him, then someone else probably saw him, too.”

She caught her breath. “Do you think it was the person who shot Kenneth?”

“I have no way of knowing.” His hands went tight on the steering wheel. “But I’m damn sure gonna try and find him so I can ask him that question myself.”

She nodded and looked out the window, her stomach in knots.

“Something else came up when I went back to the scene.”

She turned to stare at the detective’s profile again. The car they were in was a big one but he seemed to fill up more than his share of the front seat. “What?”

Instead of answering her question, he asked her another one. “Did your husband have a girlfriend?”

“Not that I knew about,” she said. “But I wouldn’t be surprised.”

He cut in front of a delivery truck and gained them an extra five feet before shooting her a glance. “Why is that?”

“Kenneth was a nice-looking man. He wouldn’t have been lonely for long.”

“The idea doesn’t disturb you? I mean, your divorce wasn’t final, was it? Some women might not like that.”

“At this point in the game, I hardly think it matters.”

“Not even to your ego?”

“I don’t have an ego. I’m not famous enough.”

“I’m not famous, period, but I wouldn’t appreciate my wife hooking up with someone else.”

She hesitated. She’d had her suspicions but she’d never confronted Kenneth so she wasn’t sure. Finally she answered. “If he’d had someone when we still cared for each other, that would have bothered me, I suppose. But he’d moved out and I’d moved on.”

“Do you have someone new?”

The question was so ludicrous, Anise almost laughed. At the last minute she managed to catch herself. “I’m too involved with my work. I don’t have time for anyone else and even if I did, I wouldn’t be interested.”

“Why?”

“I’m happy being alone. I should never have married Kenneth in the first place. It was a big mistake for me and an even bigger one for him.”

ROBIN ESTES WAS WAITING for them when they reached the office. She was one of those small, mousy women no one ever really saw. Medium height, medium build, medium everything. The only distinguishing thing about her was her nervousness and even that seemed ordinary. Cops tended to make people feel that way.

She jumped up from her desk and rushed to Anise as they walked inside. “Oh, Anise, I can’t believe what happened! I was so shocked last night.”

Anise let the woman run on, her platitudes the usual ones. When she paused to take a breath, Anise introduced her to Bishop. “We’re here so Investigator Bishop can look at the files, Robin. He needs to see what Kenneth was working on.”

He shook her hand and tried not to intimidate her but apparently he failed. Her eyes grew large.

“I’ll need to know more about all Mr. Capanna’s clients but I’m especially interested in the woman he told Anise about last night. The one with the IRS problems.”

The secretary blinked rapidly, shooting Anise a frightened look. “Who was Kenneth talking about?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t give me a name. He just said someone had been calling and threatening him but he didn’t think she was serious. He didn’t seem concerned.”

Her brown hair hanging in her eyes, Robin shook her head. “I—I don’t know who he meant. We don’t have anyone under audit right now.”

“Are you sure?” Bishop smiled encouragingly. “It would really help—”

She glared at him, her attitude going from anxious to arrogant. “I’m familiar with every client we have and I can assure you there are no cases like that in this office.”

Bishop held up his hands. “I understand. Maybe you could just show me the most recent ones, then. We’ll start there. I’ll glance over them while you take Ms. Borden home. By the time you get back, I may have some questions for you.”

Her eyes darted to Anise as if seeking permission. Anise gave it, repeating the words he’d said to her earlier in her studio. “We need to show him everything, Robin. The more information Bishop has, the better his chances are of catching Kenneth’s killer.”

She scurried out of the reception area and headed for Capanna’s office.

Bishop turned to Anise. “I almost forgot…I spoke with Donna Capanna early this morning and she told me about your conversation last night. Thank you for calling her.”

“It wasn’t a problem.”

“Good. In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep close. If you have to go out of town, let me know first.”

In the silence that followed, she stared at him in surprise. Bishop doubted that Anise Borden had anything to do with Kenneth Capanna’s murder but he’d seen women who looked more innocent than her turn out to blood-thirsty killers. Anything was possible.

“This is standard in these kinds of cases,” he explained. “We always look at the family. Don’t take offense.”

“But I…I was standing right next to him! How could I have shot him?”

“Killings for hire happen more than you realize.”

A silence charged with animosity flared between them. “I won’t be going anywhere,” she said stiffly.

“That’s fine. And I’d like you to think about what I said earlier, too. If Kenneth was seeing someone, I need a name.”

“If I had one, I’d give it to you.”

“Maybe something will come to you.”

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