Page 38 of Dark Terror
“I still don’t know how you talked me into that.” She took a drink of coffee and closed her eyes on a moan. “Why can’t we have coffee like this at the station?”
“Because there isn’t money in the budget for million-dollar coffee would be my guess.”
Troy Sherman Jr. walked in. “Detectives,” he said, going to Harry with his hand out.
“Detective Harrison,” Harry said. “This is my partner, Detective Calder.”
Gabe shook the man’s hand. “Thank you for seeing us.” TJ was tall like his father, both men fitting the height of the killer. His facial features were similar to his father’s, except his blond hair was still free of any silver. Like his father, he was wearing a suit that would have cost a few thousand dollars.
“Didn’t know I had a choice.” He smiled as if to say they were all good buddies. “Have a seat. What can I do for you today?” he said after they were seated.
“You can tell us what you know about Sheri Carstad.” Either the man hadn’t talked to his father before he came in or he was pretending that he didn’t know Sheri was dead. Gabe had trouble believing that Senior hadn’t warned TJ what this visit was about.
“She’s our accounting manager. Excellent employee. We’re worried about her, however. She didn’t show up for work today, which is very unlike her. I even sent an employee to check on her this afternoon, but he reported that she didn’t appear to be home. We are, of course, very concerned about her.” He sat back and steepled his hands under his chin, his cool eyes flicking between the two of them.
Although Gabe didn’t have a buzz going on with the man, his response sounded canned, as if he had the answer planned. He’d given them too much information without inquiring as to why they were asking like most people would. There was just something too slick about him for Gabe’s liking.
Gabe was curious about the father and son’s relationship. “Your father said he doesn’t often come in contact with Ms. Carstad. Have you discussed her absence with him?” Since they already knew he had, TJ’s answer would prove interesting if he denied it.
“Yes, but only because I’m trying to make him still feel needed.” TJ curled his fingers and studied his manicured nails, then lifted cool blue eyes to Gabe. “You know how it is. The company’s outgrown him, but he’s resisting giving up control. Not that I blame him. He started from nothing and built an empire. It’s time for new blood, though, someone who can take Sherman Enterprises to the next level.”
“And that would be you?” Gabe was puzzled as to why the man felt the need to share that with two detectives.
“Of course.” He leaned forward and drummed an impatient finger on the table. “I still don’t understand why the two of you are here. So Sheri missed a day of work. What’s that to Dark Falls finest?”
“I’m sorry to have to tell you that Ms. Carstad is dead,” Harry said.
TJ’s eyes widened. “No!” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “How? When? I’m sorry, this is just impossible to believe. Sheri was such a lovely woman and a valued employee. Was she in an accident? She’s had several speeding tickets, and I was afraid this would happen one day.”
“She was murdered,” Gabe said, watching the man’s face. He still had trouble believing that TJ hadn’t already known when he walked into the room that Sheri was dead. TJ’s expression showed the appropriate shock at this news—mouth open, eyes going wide again—but Gabe was a cop, and cops were cynical.
Harry leaned forward and put her elbows on the table. “Mr. Sherman, where were you on Friday night between eight and nine?”
“Surely you don’t suspect me?” TJ said, managing to look affronted.
“We suspect everyone who had contact with a murder victim until they can provide an ironclad alibi.” Gabe raised a brow, letting the man know he was waiting for an answer.
“I was home alone. I was supposed to meet friends for dinner but came down with a migraine. I get them sometimes. Anyone here can verify that. Obviously that doesn’t help you eliminate me, but it’s the truth.” He snapped his fingers. “I almost forgot. About that time I had”—he looked up at the ceiling—“a phone conversation with a college buddy. He lives in Salt Lake, and we try to catch up every now and then. I’d say it lasted about thirty minutes.”
“Your friend’s name and phone number?” Gabe asked.
TJ pulled a notepad and pen from the stack in the middle of the table. After writing the information down, he slid the notepad to Harry.
“I’ve told you all I know, Detectives. I have a crucial meeting in about five minutes. Are we done here?”
“For now,” Gabe said.
“What’d you think?” Harry asked once they were in the car, headed to Gabe’s house.
“That he’s a slick bastard. But our killer? Can’t quite see him murdering someone in a public park. We definitely need to check out his alibi. My dad sometimes gets migraines, and when he has one, there’s no way he could tolerate a thirty-minute phone conversation with a buddy.”
“I wondered about that, too. Let’s get your girl moved and settled in, then go pay a call to Sheri’s assistant.”
“Cara’s not my girl.” He did regret that they’d paid extra to have the sofa bed delivered today. If they’d agreed to the normal delivery time of three days… No, it was better that she would be out of reach since he seriously doubted he’d be able to keep his hands off her.
“Humph,” was all Harry said.
Chapter Thirteen
