Angela hadn’t driven all this way to listen to these two argue. Enough already. Get what you need and get out of here, she told herself. “Did the police ever talk to you about Dirk after he was murdered?”
Struck by a sudden bout of smoker’s cough, she shook her head.
Hoping to get a rise out of the woman and get her talking, Angela continued, “Don’t you think it’s strange that they wouldn’t talk to Dirk Taylor’s jilted girlfriend?”
The woman smirked. “I don’t know about where you’re from, but around here the police all have their heads up their asses. For the record, I wasn’t a jilted girlfriend.”
“How so?”
“Look. Any woman who crawled into bed with Dirk knew exactly what she was getting into. He never pretended to be anyone he wasn’t.”
“I don’t like where this conversation is headed,” George cut in.
Karen knocked him in the gut with her forearm. “Then leave us the fuck alone.”
“Fuck you. I’m trying to protect your ass.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “Dirk was a flirt and a cheat,” she told Angela, suddenly determined to have her say. “He made it clear he wasn’t in it for keeps. That man was all about pleasure. He knew how to give as good as he got. And that’s why he had so many women.”
“If I were you,” George told Karen, “I’d shut your damn mouth. This reporter thinks you had something to do with that dude’s murder.” Frustrated, he walked away.
Karen looked at Angela. “Is that true?”
“No, of course not.”
She didn’t look convinced. “If this story is about Jason Caldwell’s escape, why are we talking about Dirk?”
“There are rumors going around that Jason Caldwell is innocent. If that’s true, then we want to know who killed Dirk Taylor.”
“I think maybe George is right about you. I think you should go.”
Angela put a hand on the door, stopping Karen from shutting her out just yet. “Please. Jason Caldwell has spent eight years in prison for a murder I don’t believe he committed. You might be the only person on earth who can help this man. That’s why I’m here. From what I’ve heard, Dirk Taylor cared deeply for you. If anyone knew anything, I figured it would be the woman who knew him best.”
Karen gestured her head toward the inside of the house. “You better leave before he comes back.”
“Please. Just one more question.”
The woman huffed, but paused just the same.
“Did Dirk ever talk to you about any other woman he might have been seeing at the time who was causing him problems?”
The woman sighed and then lowered her voice. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but yes, there was one woman he was worried about.”
Angela tried not to get overly excited. “Did he mention a name?”
Karen shook her head. “Just said something about making a big mistake with a woman close to home. She was pregnant with his baby and he wanted her to get rid of it. He said she had more than one screw loose, and that he planned to cut her loose real soon.”
“Any idea what he meant by ‘close to home’?”
She shrugged. “I assumed he meant it was someone in his hometown or where he worked.”
“Do you know if he ever ‘cut her loose’?”
“No idea. That was the last conversation I ever had with Dirk.”
George was back. He took a firm hold of Karen’s forearm, pulled her inside, and slammed the door in Angela’s face.
***
Jason spent most of the day figuring out how he would break into the warehouse where, according to the person he’d talked to at D.M.S. Protective Services, his computer was being stored. After telling the man on the other end of the line that he was Colin Ferard, and that he needed the computer for legal purposes, Jason was told that all he had to do was fill out a few forms at the corporate office. Once approved, they would be happy to walk him through the warehouse on Messing Road in Sacramento. Apparently, they kept archived folders and old equipment for at least ten years before it was tossed.
Jason had no intention of filling out any forms. Instead, he planned to wait until dark and then break into the warehouse. He’d already found a crowbar, a wire cutter, and a flashlight in the garage.
Having showered for the first time in days, making sure to keep his wound dry, he was finally dressed in clean clothes, feeling better than he had in a while.
It was past seven. He did whatever he could think of to keep his mind off of Angela. He was worried about her. He never should have agreed to let her go alone. So far, the stolen cell phone had proved worthless. It was a disposable, no-contract phone with no stored numbers as far as he could tell. And it had yet to ring.
Just as he made his way out of the bedroom and down the hallway, he heard the front door open. He found Angela putting her things on the kitchen counter.
“How did it go?”
Her eyes brightened when she saw him. “How are you feeling? You look much better.”
“Thanks to you.” He crossed his arms. “So, did you learn anything?”
“I did. I think there’s a very good possibility that it was one of Dirk’s mistresses who killed him.”