Falling Awake

read every word of the investigating officer’s report, probing for anything that might give him a lead in his own quest. He’d also looked at the photos of the victim. He hoped Dave hadn’t seen those. Katherine had been shot at close range.
    “My parents and the others are buying that story.” Dave glanced briefly over his shoulder at the small group of people walking slowly away from the grave. “But I’m not. Not for a minute.”
    Ellis nodded, saying nothing.
    “Do you know what I think, Mr. Cutler?”
    “No.”
    Dave’s hands tightened into fists at his sides. “I’m almostpositive that Katherine was killed because of her connection to Frey-Salter.”
    Lawson was not going to like this, Ellis thought. The last thing the director wanted was to draw attention to his private fiefdom. After all, Frey-Salter, Inc., was a carefully constructed corporate front for the highly classified government agency that Jack Lawson ruled.
    “Why would anyone want to kill Katherine?” Ellis asked, keeping his voice as neutral as possible.
    “I’m not sure,” Dave admitted, his face stony. “But I think it might have been because she discovered something going on there that she wasn’t supposed to know. She said that Frey-Salter was real big on confidentiality. Lot of secrecy involved. When she took the job she had to sign papers promising not to discuss sensitive information with anyone outside the firm.”
    Something about the way Dave’s gaze shifted briefly and then quickly refocused in an intent stare told Ellis that he probably knew a lot more about his sister’s work than he should have. But if there was a problem in that direction, it was Lawson’s concern, he thought. He had his own issues.
    “Signing a confidentiality statement is a common requirement in companies that conduct high-stakes research,” Ellis said mildly. “Corporate espionage is a major problem.”
    “I know.” Dave hunched his shoulders. Anger vibrated through him in visible waves. “I’m wondering if maybe Katherine uncovered something like that going on.”

    “Corporate espionage?”
    “Right. Maybe someone killed her to keep her quiet.”
    Just what he needed, Ellis thought, a distraught brother who had come up with a conspiracy theory to explain his sister’s murder.
    “Frey-Salter does sleep and dream research,” Ellis reminded him, trying to sound calm and authoritative. “There’s not a lot of motive for murder in that field.”
    Dave took a step back, suspicion gathering in his eyes. “Why should I trust you to tell me the truth? You work for Frey-Salter.”
    “Outside consultant.”
    “What’s the difference? You’re still loyal to them. They’re paying your salary.”
    “Only a portion of it,” Ellis said. “I’ve got a day job now.”
    “If you hardly knew Katherine, why are you here?” Dave flexed his hands. “Maybe you’re the one who killed her. Maybe that theory about the murderer showing up at the funeral is for real.”
    This was not going well.
    “I didn’t kill her, Dave.”
    “Someone did, and I don’t think it was a random burglar. One of these days I’ll find out who murdered my sister. When I do, I’m going to make sure he pays.”
    “Let the cops handle this. It’s their job.”
    “Bullshit. They’re useless.” Dave whipped around and walked swiftly away across the cemetery.
    Ellis exhaled slowly and crossed the grass to where he had parked the rental. He peeled off the hand-tailored charcoal gray jacket, sucking in a sharp breath when the casual movement senta jolt of pain through his right shoulder. One of these days he would learn, he thought. The wound had healed and he was getting stronger. The visits to the acupuncturist had helped, much to his surprise. But some things would never again be the same. It was lucky he hadn’t been passionate about golf or tennis before Scargill almost succeeded in killing him because he sure wasn’t going to play either sport in the future.
    He put the jacket in the backseat and got behind the wheel. But he did not start the engine immediately. Instead, he sat for a long time, watching the last of the mourners disperse. You never knew. Maybe there was something to that old theory about the killer showing up at the funeral.
    If Vincent Scargill had come to bear witness to his crime, however, he succeeded in keeping himself out of sight. Not an easy thing to do in a small town in Indiana.
    When there was no one left except the two men