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Francine tapped the table. “Earl Beckett. I know what he did to me and others. And we suspect what he did to your sister.”
“He raped her and when she threatened to tell, he murdered her.”
“But it was never proven?” said Gibson.
“Obviously not, since he’s a free man.”
Gibson glanced at his neck. “I checked your record. You were never wounded as a cop like you told me. So where’d you get that scar?”
Sullivan pulled his shirt collar up to cover the mark. “Let’s just say in my despondency over the death of my sister I attempted something very foolish. Luckily, I didn’t succeed.”
Francine and Gibson exchanged a glance.
“Okay,” said Francine. “We need to make sure we nail him now.”
“On what charge?” asked Sullivan.
“Murdering Harry Langhorne,” answered Gibson.
Sullivan looked at them both. “Can you prove it?”
“Maybe. With your help.”
He leaned forward. “How?”
“You’re working with him on this case. We think he’s taking advantage of that relationship to find the treasure that Langhorne left behind.” Gibson paused. “A treasure that you seem interested in, too.”
“My sister had a little girl, my niece. My parents raised her after Helen died. She’s now a grown woman and she has some intellectual disabilities. I was hoping if there was any money…”
“Well, we think thereismoney. And we believe we can use that as bait to reel Beckett in.”
“Okay, I’ll help you however I can.”
“Exactly what we wanted to hear,” said Francine.
CHAPTER78
WHAT’S UP?” ASKED EARL BECKETTas Sullivan popped his head inside the man’s office at the federal building in Norfolk. It was a couple of days after Sullivan’s meeting with Francine and Gibson.
Sullivan took a seat across the desk from the marshal. “Look, can I talk confidentially?”
“Why, you think somebody’s eavesdropping on us in here?” Beckett said with a wry grin.
“No, but what I’m about to tell you I don’t want to go any further.”
“Okay.” Beckett sat up straighter and put his elbows on his desk as he took in the serious expression on the Virginia police detective’s face. “Shoot.”
“The Langhornes?”
“What about ’em?”
“I think I’ve found Francine and Doug Langhorne. And the mother.”
Beckett exclaimed, “What? Where are they?”
“The last place was an abandoned cottage about two miles from Stormfield.”
“What the hell are they doing there? And how did you find them?”
