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CHAPTER30
Most of the estates behind the Bayside Heights gate had a secondary gate with an intercom system to go through. Gabe was busy working on what he would say to get past the intercom when he reached the Aker house. Happily, there was no secondary gate, just a short driveway up to the door. A late-model SUV was parked in front. Gabe parked his vehicle at the curb, got out, and walked up the drive.
As he approached the front door, he saw the Akers had a camera doorbell system installed. He made it to the front door, but would he make it inside? He punched the button and listened to the melodious sounds of the doorbell ring through the house.
A female voice soon answered, “Can I help you?”
Gabe held up his ID so it would be visible to the camera. “Investigator Gabriel Fox. I’d like to speak to Anson Aker.”
“Who? Investigator? Are you from the police?”
“I’m an investigator with the city prosecutor’s office.”
Silence.
After at least a minute, he heard footsteps coming toward him.
A young woman dressed in medical scrubs opened the door. “Can I see your ID?”
“Sure.” Gabe handed her his credentials.
She studied the ID and then handed it back. “What did you want with Mr. Aker?”
“I have a couple of questions for him regarding an old case.”
“What kind of old case?”
“A drunk driving case from twenty-seven years ago.”
The woman’s eyes went wide with surprise. “Okay. Can you hang on for a minute?”
Without giving Gabe a chance to respond, the woman closed the door and left him on the porch. Gabe prepared to be rebuffed. He checked his watch and waited for nearly five minutes before footsteps sounded again and the door reopened. This time the young woman was accompanied by an older woman with gray hair and careworn features.
“Investigator Fox, I’m Idelle Aker. Can I ask why you want to talk to my husband about this case now?”
“Mrs. Aker, I’ve been assigned by the city prosecutor to review cold cases.” Gabe didn’t want to be completely dishonest. There was truth in his statement. “This one came across my desk. Detectives tried to interview your husband twenty-seven years ago and were not able to. I’d like to conduct an interview now.”
She rubbed her hands together, obviously troubled. “My husband has end-stage cancer. He’s on hospice care now. Are you going to charge him with a crime?”
The question took Gabe aback. He hadn’t thought this through. The trip was a bone for him, but this was not an active case. It wouldn’t even be Madden’s job at this point; the PD needed to reopen the investigation. But then there wasn’tacrime as he knew at the moment. He was a victim of hiscuriosity and his desire to get out from under Madden’s thumb.
“I can’t answer that question until I speak to Mr. Aker.”
Mrs. Aker studied him for a few seconds. “As fate would have it, I think Anson wants to talk to you.”
She turned and walked back down the hall. The young woman invited Gabe in. Together they followed Mrs. Aker.
Anson Aker lay on a hospital bed in what Gabe decided was the living room. His bed was by a large picture window and the view outside was of a beautiful swimming pool and outdoor garden. Bright greens and blues were a stark contrast to the gaunt, gray man on the hospital bed. He was awake. Gabe saw his sunken eyes follow them as they approached. Aker had an oxygen cannula in his nose but nothing over his mouth. A bony, dark-splotched, veiny hand gripped the edge of the bed.
“Mr. Fox,” he rasped in a weak voice. Gabe barely heard him. “I knew you’d catch up with me eventually.”
Gabe stepped close to the bed. “Mr. Aker?”
Aker blinked. “You want to know if I was the driver of the car that killed the Pope family.”
Gabe wished all interviews were this easy. “Yes, I do.”
“I don’t have much time left.” He closed his eyes and wheezed. Mrs. Aker, on the other side of the bed, patted his forehead with a washcloth.
