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“But you didn’t make a record of it.”
Phil sighed. “Give me a minute, all right?” He sipped his coffee, the furrows in his brow deepening. “If memory serves—and it’s not as sharp as it used to be—I thought it was a little far-fetched, if I’m honest. I mean, she’d been missing a week at that point. And the accident he said she’d been involved in washowmany years before that? Nine, ten? Something like that at any rate. And all that part about death threats.” He shook his head. “I think I told him he had an overactive imagination.” He looked Gary in the eye. “So what you’re telling me is he might have been right all along?”
“Let’s just say it’s a theory. We wanted to check with you that the senator had actually suggested it.”
Phil nodded. “Yeah, he did. And I’ll tell you something else. That was one distraught guy. Apparently this Cheryl had grown up on the Cain estate, was that right?”
“Yes. He pulled out all the stops trying to find her,” Dan told him.
Phil’s face fell. “If this guy he spoke about turns out to be her killer, I’m gonna feel like a total shit for ignoring him, you know that, right?”
“Do you want to know what we discover?” Gary could do that if it meant they put Phil out of his obvious misery.
Phil nodded once more. “Although if itishim, I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive myself.” He pointed to the plate containing the danishes. “Those are on me, guys. And be sure to come back when you solve this case.” Then he pushed back his chair, stood, and returned to his usual spot behind the counter, taking his coffee with him.
Dan watched him with a solemn expression. “I think we’ve just ruined his day.”
Gary had the feeling Dan was right. “Let’s finish our coffee, and then we’ll pay Ian Gordon a visit.”
IAN GORDONwas in his midfifties, his dark hair showing little evidence of gray. He was casually dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt. He greeted them politely, then showed them into his living room. “Have I got a parking ticket I know nothing about? Although I hardly think that would warrant a visit from a detective.” He indicated the couch. “Can I get you some coffee, tea, juice?”
Gary held his hand up. “We’re fine, thank you. And just to clarify… youarethe Ian Gordon who was in a relationship with Connor Brightmore?”
Ian stilled. “Now that’s a name I haven’t heard for a long time.” A faint frown creased his forehead. “Yes, I was in a relationship with Connor back in college, but I’m puzzled. Why would you be here about something that ended—tragically—over thirty years ago?”
“We’re investigating the death of Cheryl Somers.”
He frowned. “I don’t believe I’ve ever known someone of that name. I think you might have the wrong person.”
“Before she transitioned, her name was Benjamin Raskin.”
Ian’s back became rigid. “I see.”
Dan didn’t take his eyes off Ian. “Youweredating Connor Brightmore at the time of his accident, weren’t you?”
“I was, yes.” He managed a shrug. “It was a long time ago. And Iwasvery young.” His frown was back. “But I don’t understand why you’re here.”
“Cheryl received anonymous letters and death-threat phone calls for a couple of years after Connor’s death,” Gary told him. “We wondered if there was anything you could tell us about those.”
Dan focused on Ian, opening himself to whatever emotions were coming his way.
Ian stared at Gary. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
And just like that, the shutters came down and no one was home.
“Connor’s father told us whoever killed Cheryl informed him of her death.” Dan spoke quietly. “He called this person an avenging angel.”
Ian’s expression was neutral. “And you think that person was me?”
Neutral my ass.Something was going on inside Ian Gordon. Dan could feel it.
Now all he needed was to prove it.
“Are you saying it wasn’t?” Gary’s tone told Dan he wasn’t convinced by Ian’s lack of emotion either.
“When we spoke with Mr. Brightmore, we didn’t know about you.” Dan straightened. “Maybe we should go back to him and ask if his ‘angel’ was called Ian.”
He was pushing, but it was all he could think of until he had more to work on than just his feelings.
