Bundle of Trouble - By Diana Orgain Page 0,50

see Jim. There was a rectangular table in the center with four chairs around it and an all-too-familiar two-way mirror hanging from the wall. Jim appeared, escorted by a deputy sheriff. Jim was dressed in an orange jumpsuit, which immediately brought me to tears.

His face broke into a sad smile. “You don’t think it’s my color?” He embraced Laurie and me. “It’s so good to see you guys. I had an awful night.”

“Me, too. Couldn’t sleep.”

The deputy sheriff retreated out of the room, presumably to watch us through the mirror, giving us a false sense of privacy.

Jim absently brushed my hair off my face. “You look exhausted. Did you talk to my attorney?”

“He called me last night. He’s meeting us here at nine.”

Jim pulled a chair out for me. “So you heard about Svetlana Avery?”

I nodded, sitting. “What do you think happened?”

Jim sat next to me and rested his hand on my thigh. “All I could gather is that she was shot.”

“She must have known something. When I told her about Michelle’s death, she nearly passed out. She told me she had a migraine coming on. It seemed odd to me at the time, but maybe she was afraid.”

Jim looked surprised. “When did you even meet with her?”

“The other day. She called the house.”

“Why did she call us?”

“Well, actually, I called her, but never mind that.”

Jim looked unconvinced. “You think she knew who killed Brad and Michelle?”

“Why else would she end up dead?”

Jim reached for my hand. “You can’t investigate anymore, Kate. I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.”

“I have to. You’re in jail.”

“Leave it to the pros, honey. This Crane guy will figure it out. He sounded pretty confident last night when I spoke with him.”

As if on cue, the door to the meeting room opened and Charles Crane appeared, escorted by the same deputy. The deputy waited for Mr. Crane to settle his briefcase onto the table and nod before closing the door.

Mr. Crane had a sweater wrapped around his shoulders and an unlit pipe between his teeth. He looked like his photo. He was small in stature with silver highlights in his dark hair.

He introduced himself as he took a seat across from us. “Not to sound insensitive, Mr. Connolly, but do we need to have our conversation in private?” Crane glanced in my direction.

“Anything you want to discuss with me, you can do so in front of my wife.”

Mr. Crane nodded, clearing his throat. “As you’re aware, you’ve been charged with assault with a deadly weapon, for fighting with your brother. The victim, George Connolly, is unavailable. Or, in other words, has not stepped forward to press charges. Therefore, if the case is to be presented to the DA, it will most likely be deemed ‘insufficient grounds for arrest’ and the case will be dropped.”

I rocked Laurie back and forth in my arms, trying to dissipate my nervousness. “So, they’re going to let Jim go?”

“Under other circumstances he would have already been released, but homicide left a request for inquiry under the name ‘Connolly’,” Crane said.

Jim exhaled. “When the cops booked me, they saw my last name and had to hold me so that McNearny could talk to me, right?”

Crane blinked his affirmation.

“You talked to McNearny?” I asked. “What did he want to know?”

Jim shrugged. “About George. When I’d seen him last, where he was staying and what he was doing, who he was friends with. All that kind of stuff.”

Crane tapped his unlit pipe. “Once the police have you in custody, they like to hold you as long as legally possible. Make you nervous, hope anything you’ve conveniently forgotten about your brother might be remembered.”

Jim rubbed at his bloodshot eyes. “I really don’t know anything—”

“I do. Well, a little.” I filled them in on my conversation with George the previous day, including the cell phone number he’d given me.

“This may help,” Crane said. “If we can bring George in, it will take the pressure off your husband. The police don’t consider Jim a serious suspect, they’re just trying to squeeze information out of him.”

“That’s a relief,” I said.

“But there’s bad news, too.” Crane continued. “I’m told they want to have you participate in a lineup this afternoon, Mr. Connolly. They say they have an eyewitness who saw a man leaving Svetlana’s apartment yesterday afternoon.”

“That’s not a problem. I can do the lineup. I never even met the woman and I was nowhere near her apartment. Well, actually, I can’t say that. What

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