Let the Devil Sleep Read Free Page B

detective, right?”
    “I’m waiting.”
    “Couple of things. First, I need you to look over her shoulder.”
    “Meaning what?”
    “Just meet with her? Get a sense of what she’s doing? See if it reflects the world of homicide victims as you know it? She’s got this one big chance. If she doesn’t make too many mistakes, the sky’s the limit.”
    “Hmm.”
    “Does that little grunt mean you’ll do it? Will you, David, please?”
    “Connie, I don’t know a damn thing about journalism.” What he did know mostly disgusted him, but again he kept quiet.
    “She’s got the journalism part down pat. And she’s as smart as anyone I know. But she’s still a kid.”
    “Then what do I bring to the table? Old age?”
    “Reality. Knowledge. Experience. Perspective. The incredible wisdom that comes from … how many homicide cases?”
    He didn’t think that was a real question, so he didn’t try to answer it.
    Connie continued with even more intensity. “She’s super capable, but ability isn’t the same as life experience. She’s in the process of interviewing people who’ve lost a parent or some other loved one to a murderer. She needs to be in a realistic frame of mind for that. Sheneeds a broad view of the territory, you know what I mean? I guess what I’m saying is that so much is at stake, she needs to know as much as she possibly can.”
    Gurney sighed. “God knows there’s a ton of stuff out there on grief, death, loss of a loved—”
    She cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, I know—the pop-psych stages of grief, five stages of horseshit, whatever. That’s not what she needs. She needs to talk to someone who knows about
murder
, who’s seen the victims, talked to the families, looked in their eyes, the horror—someone who
knows
, not someone who wrote a frigging book.” There was a long silence between them. “So will you do it? Just meet with her once, just look at what she’s got and where she plans to go with it. See if it makes sense to you?”
    As he stared out the den window at the back pasture, the idea of meeting with Connie’s daughter to review her entry ticket into the world of trash television was one of the least appealing prospects on earth. “You said there were a
couple
of things, Connie. What’s the second one?”
    “Well …” Her voice weakened. “There may be an ex-boyfriend problem.”
    “What kind of problem?”
    “That’s the question. Kim likes to sound invulnerable, you know? Like she’s not afraid of anything or anybody?”
    “But …?”
    “But at the very least, this asshole has been playing nasty little tricks on her.”
    “Like what?”
    “Like getting into her apartment and moving things around. There was something she started to tell me about a knife disappearing and later reappearing, but when I tried to get her to tell me more about it, she wouldn’t.”
    “Then why do you think she brought it up?”
    “Maybe she wants help, and at the same time she doesn’t want it, and she can’t make up her mind which it is.”
    “Does the asshole have a name?”
    “Robert Meese is his real name. He calls himself Robert Montague.”
    “Is this somehow connected with her TV project?”
    “I don’t know. I just have a feeling that the situation is worse than she’s willing to admit. Or at least admit to me. So … please, David? Please? I don’t know who else to ask.”
    When he didn’t respond, she went on. “Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe I’m imagining things. Maybe there’s no problem at all. But even if there isn’t, it would still be great if you could listen to her talk about her project, about these homicide victims and their families. It means so much to her. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. She’s so determined, so confident.”
    “You sound a little shaky.”
    “I don’t know. I’m just … concerned.”
    “About her project or about her ex-boyfriend?”
    “Maybe both. I mean, on the one hand, it’s fantastic, right? But it