his surprise, there was genuine regret in her voice. She meant it. Frankly, he’d taken her insistence on being here as evidence of the control-freak tendencies he’d initially assumed she’d have, her claims of concern nothing more than a ploy to have her way. She was a lawyer; of course she’d be good at making an argument. Her obvious sincerity caught him off-guard, nearly made him look at her again until he managed to catch himself.
She was about to knock again when the curtains in the window shifted slightly, then the sound of locks being withdrawn met their ears. The door finally, slowly eased open. A nervous-looking face, a female version of Jeremy Decker’s, peered at them over a still-fastened chain. “Yes?”
“Hi, Lauren. Do you remember me?” Regina asked.
After a moment, Lauren nodded shakily. “You’re Jeremy’s lawyer.”
“That’s right. This is Detective Waters with the Chicago Police Department. Can we come in? We need to talk to you about something.”
“Jeremy’s not here.”
“I know. We need to talk to you.”
Lauren’s expression said she wanted to say no. Finally, as though realizing how futile it would be to turn away the police, she grimaced. “I just got the baby to sleep. You’ll have to be quiet.”
“Of course.”
The door closed long enough for her to unfasten the chain before opening it fully. She was dressed in thread-bare sweats, her hair wet as though she’d just stepped out of the shower. They hadn’t woken her, apparently catching her on her way to bed instead. As Regina had said, she was young, looking to be barely in her early twenties. Even younger than her brother. She was pretty, but tired-looking, probably to be expected for a woman with a baby. She waved them in, quickly closing and re-locking the door behind them, then turned to face them, folding her arms almost protectively over her chest.
“Is there somewhere we can sit down?” Regina asked when it looked as if Lauren Decker wasn’t going to offer.
Lauren nodded tightly and stepped past them to lead the way into a tiny living room off the entryway. She motioned vaguely at the couch, as much as an invitation as it seemed like they were going to get, falling into a chair herself.
Regina slid onto the edge of the couch closest to Lauren. Marcus remained standing, not seeing any way he could fit on it with her, not really wanting to get that close.
“Lauren, I’m afraid I have some sad news,” Regina said slowly, the kindness in her voice again catching him by surprise. “Jeremy is dead. I found him in his car outside my office tonight. He was murdered.”
He watched Lauren’s reaction to the news. She blinked several times, a lack of comprehension in her expression. It was a face he’d seen more than once in moments like this. “What are you talking about?” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“It appears someone killed him while he was sitting in his car.”
Eyes wide, Lauren began to shake her head. “Who?”
“That’s what we were hoping to ask you,” Marcus said gently, ignoring the look Regina shot him. “Do you have any idea why anyone would want to hurt your brother?”
She blinked up at him, her gaze slowly sliding from his to Regina’s, then away entirely as she lowered her head. And he knew before she said a word that she was going to lie.
“No.”
Before he could call her on it, Regina leaned forward. “Lauren, I know you must want whoever hurt Jeremy to be held responsible. If there’s anything you can tell us, anything at all, it would be helpful.”
This time the pause was barely noticeable before Lauren shook her head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know. He’d only been home a few days, and we didn’t talk much. He didn’t want to talk about jail, and he went out a lot.”
“Do you know where he went or who he went to see?” Marcus asked.
“No. Like I said, we didn’t talk much.”
He was about to press her further when Regina interjected. “Okay. I know this is a lot to take in, and we should give you some time to grieve.”
Before she even finished speaking, she started to rise. Marcus’s first instinct was to object. He hadn’t even begun to ask the many questions he had for Lauren Decker. But if he tried to press on in the face of Regina Garrett’s kindness, he would just come off like a bully, and that wouldn’t get him anywhere. As he took in the face of the young woman before him, now even more drained and pale than when they arrived, it was clear she’d closed herself off to them. He might be able to get more out of her now, or maybe he’d do even better once she’d had a chance to let the news and the implications of her brother’s death sink in.
Regina reached out and touched the arm of the young woman, who’d also risen. “Are you going to be all right here alone, or is there someone we can call to be with you?”
Lauren shook her head. “We don’t have any family left, and I have the baby. She’ll probably wake up if I have anyone over. I’ll be okay.”
Regina reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. “Here’s my number. Please call me if you need anything.”
“Thank you.”
Marcus already had his own card in hand. “And if you think of anything you think might be helpful, feel free to call me.”
She took the card without meeting his eyes. He didn’t believe for a second she would use it, but wanted to keep his name in her memory. Because like it or not, they would be meeting again.
Lauren Decker knew something, and sooner or later—sooner if he had any say in the matter—he was going to find out what it was.
“SHE WAS LYING,” Detective Waters said as he pulled away from the house.
“I know,” Regina said without hesitation. She should have known he’d pick up on it as well as she had. There was something reassuring about that. It implied he was smart, good at his job. He might be the right man to solve Jeremy’s murder after all.
“I would have appreciated the chance to talk to her further rather than have you rush us out of there.”
“It was obvious she wasn’t going to tell us anything. I have a feeling you saw that as well as I did.”
“It couldn’t have hurt to try.”
“Couldn’t it? She was a clearly exhausted woman who barely had time to absorb her brother’s murder. If you pushed her too far she could have turned against us entirely and decided to never cooperate at all.”
“Me,” he corrected. “She could have turned against me. There is no ‘us.’”
No, there certainly wasn’t, she thought with a pang. The comment seemed best left unaddressed. “Either way, you’re better off giving her a chance to let this sink in. Once she has a chance to think about it she may decide to share what she knows. If not, then you can push her. Or does your partner usually play the bad cop? I have a feeling he’s good at it.”
“He is,” he admitted. “In the meantime, is there anything you want to tell me?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, if you were right and the killer was sending a message, that message was most likely intended for you.”
He wasn’t telling her anything she hadn’t already considered, but hearing him voice the possibility made it much harder to ignore. She swallowed the knot that rose in her throat. “I know,” she agreed.
“It would seem somebody wanted to prevent him from talking about something. If there’s even the slightest chance he told it to you, they might come after you.”
“As