In an effort to give Missy and the Tucker children some privacy to deal with their grief, Kate got Missy’s permission to look around the house for any signs of what might have occurred to have resulted in someone wanting to murder her husband. They started in the master bedroom, searching through the Tuckers’ bedside tables and private items to the sound of a sobbing family downstairs.
“This really sucks,” DeMarco said.
“It does. I’m sorry, DeMarco. I really am. I just thought it would be easier for everyone involved.”
“Is that really what it is?” DeMarco asked. “I know I don’t know you all that well yet, but one of the things I do know about you is you have a tendency to go out of your way to put as much pressure on yourself as you can. It’s why you can’t figure out the rather simple struggle of balancing your time with the bureau with the time for your family.”
“Excuse me?” Kate asked, feeling a flare of anger.
DeMarco shrugged. “Sorry. But it’s true. Local cops could have done this and we could have probably already been elsewhere, digging into this case.”
“With no witnesses, the wife is the best bet,” Kate said. “It just so happens she’s also having to deal with the death of her husband. It sucks for everyone involved. But you have to get over your own discomfort. In the grand scheme of things, who is more uncomfortable right now? You or the freshly grieving widow downstairs?”
Kate wasn’t aware of her loud and irritated tone until the last few words were out of her mouth. DeMarco stared her down for a moment before shaking her head like some spoiled teenager with no rebuttal, and left the room.
When Kate also left the room, she saw that DeMarco was looking through an office and miniature library just down the hallway. Kate left her to it, opting to head outside to look for any clues. She wasn’t expecting to find anything as she skirted around the house but knew it would be irresponsible not to go through the routine.
Back inside, she saw that Jack Tucker’s brother and wife had come. The brother and Missy were in a trembling embrace while the wife knelt by the kids and gave them all a hug. Kate saw that the thirteen-year-old—a girl who looked very much like her father—had a blank look on her face. Seeing it, she didn’t fault DeMarco for being pissed at her.
“Agent Wise?”
Kate turned as she was about to head back up the stairs and saw Missy coming down the hallway toward her. “Yes?”
“If we’re going to talk, let’s do it now. I don’t know how much longer I can hold it together.” Already, she was starting to let out little whines and moans again. Being that the news of her husband’s death was barely one hour old, Kate admired her for her strength.
Missy said nothing else, but walked up the stairs with a quick glance back toward the living room where her kids and relatives were gathered. DeMarco joined them from where she was checking the medicine cabinet in the upstairs bathroom and the three of them went into the master bedroom—the bedroom Kate and DeMarco had already checked.
Missy sat on the edge of the bed like a woman waking up from a very bad dream, only to realize the dream was still taking place.
“You asked me earlier why he was in New York City,” she said. “Jack worked as a senior accountant for a pretty big firm—Adler and Johnson. They’ve been working night and day on this big overhaul for a nuclear decommissioning company in South Carolina. On the really late nights, he’s just been staying in the city.”
“Were you expecting him back tonight or were you thinking he’d be staying in a hotel?” DeMarco asked.
“I talked to him at about seven this morning, before he left for his morning run. He said not only did he plan on being home today, but probably pretty early—maybe around four or so.”
“I assume you started trying to call or text him at a certain point when you realized it was getting late?” Kate asked.
“Yeah, but not until seven or so. When those guys get deep into their jobs, time sort of goes out the window.”
“Mrs. Tucker, the FBI was called in on your husband’s murder because the situation reflects the details and circumstances of a case from eight years ago. The victim was another man who lived here in Ashton, also killed in New York,” Kate explained. “There is no hard evidence to support it, but it’s close enough to have alarmed the bureau. So it is very important that you try to think about any people that your husband might have made enemies with.”
Kate could tell that Missy was once again fighting with tears. She gulped down the need to let out the grief, trying to get through it.
“I can’t think of anyone. I’m not just saying it because I love the man, but he was extremely kind. Outside of a few little arguments at work, I don’t think he ever had a heated argument his entire life.”
“What about any close friends?” Kate asked. “Are there any friends, men in particular, that he hung around with who might have seen another side of him?”
“Well, he was a little silly with this group of friends out at the yacht club, but I don’t think they’d describe him as anything negative.”
“Do you have the names of some of these friends that we could talk to?” DeMarco asked.
“Yes. He had this core group…him and three other guys. They get together at the yacht club or hang out at the cigar bar and watch sports. Football, mostly.”
“Do you happen to know if any of them have people they might consider enemies?” DeMarco asked. “Even jealous ex-wives or estranged family members?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know them that well and—”
The sound of uncontrollable sobbing from downstairs interrupted her. Missy looked in the direction of the bedroom door with a frown that made Kate’s heart ache.
“That’s Dylan, our middle child. He and his father were…”
She stopped here, her lip quivering as she tried to keep herself together.
“It’s okay, Mrs. Tucker,” DeMarco said. “Go to your kids. We’ve got enough to get started.”
Missy got up quickly and sprinted for the door, already starting to cry. DeMarco followed behind her slowly, casting an angry look back at Kate. Kate stood in the bedroom a moment longer, getting a grip on her own emotions. No, this part of the job never got truly easier. And the fact that they had gotten very little information from the visit made it even worse.
She finally headed back out into the hallway, understanding why DeMarco was mad at her. Hell, she was a little angry with herself.
Kate walked back downstairs and head out the door. She saw that DeMarco was already getting into the car, wiping tears from her eyes. Kate closed the door softly behind her, the grief and weeping of the Tucker family pushing her along like an usher that led her deeper and deeper into a case that already seemed lost.
CHAPTER FOUR
By nine o’clock the following morning, news of Jack Tucker’s murder had started making the rounds around Ashton. It was the main reason why it was so easy for Kate and DeMarco to get in touch with Jack’s friends—the names and numbers of which Missy had given them last night. Not only had his friends already heard the news, they had started to come up with plans on how to help Missy and the kids as they dealt with their loss.
After a few quick phone calls, Kate and DeMarco had set up a meeting with three of Jack’s friends at the yacht club. It was a Saturday, so the lot was already starting to fill up, even at nine in the morning. The club was located right along the Long Island Sound and had what Kate thought was probably the best view of the sound without all of the pretentious boat traffic getting in the way.
The club itself was a two-story