Chapter 21

4.7K 466 6
                                    

THE SWEAT DRIPPED OFF HIS body like a marathon runner on the final stretch, who was reaching for the gold at the Olympics. He lifted his shirt to wipe his face, but it was a feeble attempt at best as it, too, was soaking wet. It didn't distract him, though. The hum of the treadmill and the pounding of his feet couldn't divert his attention from the televisions mounted in front of him.

The local news anchor was telling all who cared to listen that the death of Laura Saunders was a tragedy but an isolated incident. Then he proceeded to relate how the city had a decline in murders over the last ten years and most were executed by those who knew the victim. No one needed to live in fear.

Bullshit. No one was safe. How dare the police surmise what they were dealing with from one body? To be classified a "narrow" killer, one who targeted a specific woman, angered him. He was better than that. He looked forward to hearing the news anchor retract those words after they found the next victim.

*****

LAYTON CUPPED HIS FACE AND SOBBED, sucking in as if it was going to be his dying breath.

"Do you know who did this to Laura?"

He shook his head, his face still covered by his hands, and then looked at Madison and nodded.

"You know who? Was it him?" She put a finger on the photograph. "Did he kill her?"

He took a cleansing breath, and then said one word. "No."

Madison felt disappointed by his answer. "But you know who did?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe? The woman you loved was murdered. You know who did—"

"I don't know. For certain. What the hell good is it going to do? She's already dead." His eyes communicated more than his words.

"You're afraid of someone?" She thought back to Sandra, who feared for her life. "You speak to us, and we'll get you into protective custody."

"Yeah, I've heard all about that. People still get murdered. There are dirty cops."

"Why did you take off from work?"

"I needed to get away for a bit."

"If you're not going to be completely honest, this is a waste of time." She gathered up the photo, put it in the folder, and closed it.

"I have debts to pay."

"I'm not following you."

"Gambling debts."

"Talk to us. Our job is to solve Laura's murder."

He shut his eyes a moment and then lifted his glasses up to the fluorescent light. He moved them and as the light reflected off the lenses, Madison saw the smudges. Layton wiped his glasses and put them back on.

"I owe someone a lot of money."

"A bookie?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Okay, well, why take off from work?"

"What aren't you getting? I owe this guy twenty-five grand. Do you have any idea how much money that is?" His face paled, and anger surfaced. "I took time off to try and gather money. He told me if I didn't have the money to him by last Friday, I'd be a dead man."

That would explain why Layton was selling his car. He needed the money. "Today is Tuesday. Why not speak up about this sooner?"

"Would you have believed me?" He let his rhetorical question hang there. "Besides, I'm probably safer in here."

Ties That BindWhere stories live. Discover now