Some Degree of Murder by Frank Zafiro, Colin Conway Read Free Book Online Page A

she have a cell phone?”
    “Of course.”
    “Can I have a copy of the bill?”
    “Why?”
    “To see who she was talking to.”
    “We pay a flat rate for unlimited calls. It’s all on one bill. Besides, we took it away from her about a week before she ran away.”
    “Why?”
    Andie sipped her wine. “Grades. Attitude. Stupid things, really.” Her eyes teared up and she wiped them.
    “When she left, did she say anything? Was there a fight?”
    “I can’t remember one.” She sniffed and wiped her nose.
    “Generally speaking, kids don’t just take off without some kind of catalyst.”
    She shrugged and pulled another tissue from a box on the table between us.
    “How close was Fawn with her step-father?”
    She took a deep breath and thought. “Very close, I suppose. Until recently.”
    “Recently? As in how long ago?”
    “Last year. Same time frame as the drugs and the bad grades and the boys. The same time she decided she hated me.”
    She cried softly again. I waited while she looked away and dabbed at her eyes.
    “Mrs. Taylor, do you think it’s possible that any sort of inappropriate relationship may have existed between Fawn and her step-father?”
    “What?!”
    “It’s a question I have to ask, even if there weren’t a few signs.”
    “Are you asking me if Steven was having sex with Fawn?” Her voice rose an octave.
    I paused. “I’m asking if you think there was any sort of inappropriate –“
    “I can’t believe this.”
    “Mrs. Taylor, I have to explore every possibility, even if only to eliminate it.”
    “Well, you can eliminate that!” she snapped. “Steven has been an excellent father. He would never do anything like that.”
    “Okay.”
    She shook her head. “Are you doing anything to actually solve this case?”
    “I’m doing everything I—“
    “Have you found my daughter’s killer?”
    “No.”
    “Please leave, detective.” She looked away, dismissing me.
    “Mrs. Taylor—“
    “Go.”
    I rose and walked out of the room. When I reached the front door, I opened it and stepped onto the porch. The door was heavy and made a solid thunk when I shut it. I stood still for a moment, wondering if I was going to get a complaint out of this. Crawford would take it, that was for sure, but I decided it would never go anywhere.
    Just like that interview.
    I started down the steps toward my car when I heard the front door open. I turned to face Steve Taylor. I expected him to be angry, but he seemed strangely calm.
    “I thought you wanted to talk to both of us, detective.”
    “Your wife was upset at the questions I asked. She wanted me to leave.”
    “What questions?”
    I took a breath and sat down on the steps. I motioned to the steps next to me. He sat down, resting his elbows on his knees.
    “Did you ever hear from Fawn after she ran away?”
    He shook his head. “No. I think that was part of what has been hardest for my wife.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “No goodbye.”
    “She seems a little better than even a few days ago,” I noted.
    He shrugged and looked down at his toes.
    “Mr. Taylor, if there’s something you want to tell me, now would be a good time.”
    He shook his head slightly and then ran his fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing to tell. She’s coping. That’s all.”
    “How close were you to Fawn?”
    He turned to face me. “I loved her,” he said. “She was my daughter.”
    “Your wife said that Fawn hated her. Do you think that’s true?”
    Taylor sighed. “That’s her grief talking. Fawn didn’t hate her or me. She was just going through a phase. She was struggling.”
    “Struggling with what?”
    “Becoming a woman. Being wealthy. Living by the rules. The same things every kid goes through, I would say.”
    “No special problems?”
    “I don’t think so. She was just acting out and took it too far.”
    “Usually,” I told him, “running away is a response to something. Either a single incident or sometimes just a