Page 23 of Concrete Evidence
Avery hesitated. The two men had disagreed about something, but that could have been a golf game. “I don’t recall anything.”
“My father’s funeral was Monday. Neither Senator Elliott nor Liam Zachary attended.”
Avery blinked, putting thought to the agent’s words. “I have noidea why neither man attended.” Confusion had once again stunned her. Why hadn’t Granddad told her about Colonel Wilkins’s death? An argument? Severing of their friendship? Or another reason? She shivered at the thought of the recent deaths. “Doesn’t the situation seem odd to you?”
He rubbed his chin, but nothing emerged from his mouth.
“I asked you a question, Agent Wilkins.”
His jaw firm, he studied her. “I wish I had answers for you. Is there anything else you can remember?”
“Only I want a reason for what I saw and why my grandfather wanted me to talk to you. I’m emotionally drained and wish I hadn’t seen my grandfather bending over a body.”
“In your shoes, I’d feel the same way, although I’ve never met Senator Elliott or Mr. Zachary.” He stood. “Thank you for coming in. I’ll escort you back to reception.”
“I’m not finished. What caliber of bullet killed Liam?”
“The information hasn’t been released.”
Avery slowly rose to her feet. “I understand. By informing the public of the caliber, the guilty person could dispose of the weapon and escape arrest.”
“Thank you for reporting the crime. We’ll be investigating what you witnessed, and I’ll relay your findings to the Army Criminal Investigation Division. If we or they have additional questions, we’ll contact you.”
Agent Wilkins opened the office door and reminded her to pick up any personal property before she left. She hadn’t told him about the threatening phone call, but the agent obviously wouldn’t have been interested.
Without a doubt, Avery had been dismissed. In every sense of the word. Granddad had misjudged Agent Marc Wilkins. Had Granddad gotten other facts wrong?
15
MARC PONDERED THE LEGITIMACYof Avery Quinn ElliottIII’s testimony—granddaughter of one of Texas’s most renowned senators. That depiction depended on the person’s political preference. She’d claimed to have witnessed her grandfather standing over a dead man, who could’ve been Liam Zachary, and she trembled during the entire interview. If the woman had been a political enemy, Marc would have better understood her motive to implicate the senator. But her accusation either held a strand of truth or she had some serious mental issues. Senator Elliott’s record tipped beyond the stellar side. If true, her story no longer served to discredit a reputable man but to explore the roots of a violent crime. What part had Marc’s father played in all of this? A true victim? Or just a casualty of an unforeseen heart attack? How could Marc trust Avery Elliott’s statement?
He searched through secure sites about her background. Nothing in his findings disputed her integrity. Excellent education. Not evena speeding violation. She’d joined hands with Senator Elliott in business, community, political, and church affairs. Her deep-blue eyes had distracted him and most likely dazzled a few others. But he knew better than to allow a pretty face to derail good judgment.
Marc called his mom. “I’m working late, so don’t wait dinner. But I have a question. Did my father ever mention Senator Quinn Elliott?”
“Many times. By the way, I remembered the other man’s name. Not sure what was going with my memory. It’s Liam Zachary. I heard it on the news. Is it true he’s dead?”
“Yes. Found murdered.”
Mom drew in a sharp breath. “Has something happened to the senator?”
“I don’t think so.”
“He needs to be warned. Something horrible is going on.” Her voice rose.
“I agree circumstances look bad at this point, but the authorities are on it. Relax, and I’ll leave the office as quickly as possible.”
Marc dug again into connections involving the three men. They’d appeared at a fundraiser in Dallas in support of firefighters. The photo showed three smiling men seated at the same table. A golf tournament for a children’s home. A charity drive associated with a horse show.
Marc pressed in Tessa’s cell number. Her suspicions of their father’s murder sounded like a teenage girl’s overactive imagination. Maybe not. Their father had stated he’d arrange security for her. Why? This all led somewhere, and he couldn’t leave it alone.
Tessa picked up on the first ring. “Hey, Brother.”
He liked the sound of his title. “Hey, Sis. How’s your grandmother this evening?”
“Sleeping most of the time. I wonder how much longer she can hold on. Gram has always been the strong one, but I hear her crying in pain.”
“This all must be terrible for you. I’ll be there on Sunday, and we can talk about the future.”
