Page 4 of Concrete Evidence
“He called this past Thursday, and we talked. He texted me a few hours before he planned to meet with a friend regarding a work project and promised to call later. He never did. Early the next morning, a three-star general and a military chaplain arrived in a limo to notify me of his death.”
His father always kept his word, except with his wedding vows. “Because of meeting with friends, you believe someone murdered him?”
“I believe someone made Abbott’s death look like a heart attack. And his cell phone is missing. You have the experience and resources to find answers to my questions.”
Marc wanted to leave the past behind. His father’s country honored him, and rightfully so, even if the sacrifices came at his wife’s and son’s expense. He didn’t dislike his father—not really. How couldhe despise someone he didn’t know? For years he’d hoped one day his father would figure out that adherence to responsibility included his family. Then Marc grew up and decided the man used his career as an excuse to avoid responsibility for his family.
“What are you thinking?” Mom’s matter-of-fact tone made him feel like he was under interrogation.
“I suggest taking your suspicions to the Army’s Criminal Investigation Division. They’re equipped to make proper inquiries.”
“Why would the CID take the case when the medical examiner’s report said he died due to natural causes? I should have insisted upon an autopsy. And I know if his death fell under suspicious circumstances, they’d investigate it. All I’m asking is for you to talk to those at the Army Corps office who worked with him, like you were investigating a homicide. Afterward, if you’re convinced Abbott died of natural causes, I’ll accept it.”
Investigate his death like a homicide? “I have work piling up on my desk. And I couldn’t get involved unless CID requested FBI assistance. Besides, I’d not be permitted since he’s family.”
“He’s your father.” She punched each word and blinked back the tears. “If you refuse, I’ll hire a private investigator.”
Marc wanted to groan. The circumstances surrounding his father’s heart attack weren’t unusual. Yet Mom was adamant about her suspicions. “All right. I’ll look into it.”
“Son, there’s one more thing.”
4
MARC JUSTIFIED HIS MOTHER’Sirrational response to her emotional state. Dealing with his father’s unexpected death when she longed for a better life had crushed her. The man had disappointed her so many times that she should be relieved.
Dwelling on the past solved nothing. Some people changed when confronted with their mistakes, except he sincerely doubted his father had any of those inclinations. Marc would help her through the grief and hope he could find a logical explanation to ease her heart and mind. Right now, talking to her face-to-face instead of on the passenger side of his car would help the communication.
“Mom, what haven’t you told me?” Silence invaded their conversation while he assumed she formed her words. “Take your time. I’m right here.”
“Thanks, Son. The last time Abbott and I were together, he said he feared for a friend who was investigating a federal crime. Thetwo talked privately for over an hour while I waited on the porch.” Mom held up a palm. “I don’t have a name. I’ve racked my brain trying to remember if Abbott even mentioned it. But he believed both of them were in danger since they’d uncovered incriminating evidence. I don’t know if he met with the same friend on Thursday when he died.”
Resentment toward his father had dug a deep trench, but Marc believed in guarding his mother’s welfare. Burying his father must have hit him a little harder than he wanted to admit. “But you weren’t in danger?”
She shook her head. “I asked him, and he said, ‘Donita, absolutely not.’ If he felt I was in a perilous position, he’d have asked me to stay with you until they completed the investigation.”
“You believed him?”
“I had no reason not to.”
How could she trust him? “Do you have anything for me to go on?”
“I might have taught kindergarten for thirty years, but I am perceptive.”
“Yes, ma’am. A lead would help.”
“Your father gave me the friend’s phone number in case the threats were legitimate. I tried calling the friend several times to tell him about Abbott’s passing, but the calls went to voice mail, and I wasn’t able to leave a message.”
“What did the voice mail say?”
“A woman said to ‘Leave a number and a brief message, and I’ll return your call.’ She sounded computer generated.” Mom reached into her purse and pulled out a slip of paper. “You will need this.”
Marc took the paper and tucked it into his pant pocket. “I’ll run the number when I’m back at the office. Did you call the Army Corps of Engineers? If the two men were investigating a case, the corps would have documentation.”
“I contacted the Fort Worth office and spoke to Lieutenant Nick Shipley. In fact, he attended today’s service. He offered condolences, but he couldn’t help me without a name. He also said Abbott oversaw many projects, and all of them involved classified information.”
Marc understood protocol to protect sensitive data. “On Wednesday I’ll leave you alone for a few hours and drive into the FBI office. I need to wrap up some paperwork on my desk. While there, I’ll contact the corps office in Fort Worth. Had Abbott mentioned the names of other friends?”
“Not during that conversation. I’ve thought about googling Abbott to see if he’s pictured with anyone or mentioned in connection with others who could help. But why would I put others in danger?”
