Entangled

By Frank Heiberger

In Entangled, home security agent and former marine Timothy Duncan finds himself on the burning edge of a complicated love triangle where everything has gone terribly wrong. His lover’s husband, Elwood Ledford, is a big fish in a small pond—and he’s just been robbed and murdered in his garage.

The police and the media are hot on the trail, and both have fingered Duncan as the prime suspect in the case—turning Duncan’s life into a living nightmare. He’s put on leave from work, evicted from his apartment, and abandoned by his lover, who claims no involvement in the affair.

Duncan feels trapped, and his fate seems sealed. The cards are stacked up against him. But just as they’re about to fall, new evidence is discovered, and it could be exactly what Duncan needs to clear his name.

Entangled is a gripping murder mystery with a Hitchcockian sense of growing doom, yet there is light on the horizon, just begging to be found. Step inside to find it, and be prepared for plenty of surprises along the way...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Frank Heiberger
• Release date: Jul 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311162298

Frank Heiberger

Frank Heiberger grew up in Chicago as the middle child of seven. Writing since the age of twelve, he went on to work as a market researcher, computer consultant, computer store manager, industrial tool salesman, real estate attorney, and data analyst—but through it all, he never stopped writing.He currently lives with his daughter in Des Plaines, Illinois, where he enjoys tending his indoor garden, entertaining, and investigating paranormal activity.

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Entangled

All rights reserved.

First edition Copyright © 2014 by Frank Heiberger.

Second Edition Copyright © 2015 by Frank Heiberger.

This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part either electronically or physically by any means what-so-ever without permission.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of any characters or places herein to actual people or places is purely coincidental.

Also by Frank Heiberger

Mr. Smith?

The Feud

The Seventh Seal

To anyone that stood up for themselves and walked away.

Find the latest titles, obtain signed copies, and read excerpts at

www.authorfrankheiberger.com.

Reader Reviews for Entangled…

The way this author tells it, you feel what they are feeling. Amazing.

Phenomenal story, imaginative, captivating... a book you will not be able to pry from your hands.

I found the storyline well put together with excellent twists and turn.

I was immediately captivated by the fast-paced story line and the well-developed characters.

An intriguing mystery, & if you think you've got the ending figured out - guess again!

Captivating from start to finish. A mystery written the right way!

Table of Contents:

1. Saturday

2. Sunday

3. Monday

4. Tuesday

5. Wednesday

6. Thursday

7. Friday

8. Saturday

9. One Week Later

About the Author

Contact

1. Saturday

A noise woke Timothy Duncan from a dream about a dark-haired woman and she faded in his mind. She was the perfect woman for him. But her face never held clear. The memory of her dissolved on waking and only a feeling of wholeness and contentment remained.

A dull pounding clouded the front of his mind. It was the same pain he started every day with; a grief headache, a misery. Because he awoke without Brenda, yet knew that he would see her, probably together with the husband, and pretend he was happy for them. He understood how widows and widowers died of grief. It felt like his own death was slowly creeping over him.

Money. After almost two years with Duncan, she had married for money to start the business she had wanted more than anything. Duncan had always thought it rhetorical, when she had said that. Until she got into the main investor’s bed. At the end of almost two more years, her business was a mess, thanks to her good ole boy husband’s interference. But it wasn’t much consolation for a fiancée having told you she couldn’t afford you as a boyfriend, much less as a husband and partner, and yet still wanted you as a lover.

Duncan rolled over and looked at the plain white, flecked ceiling of his apartment. Outside birds and locusts were singing and buzzing a discordant symphony. It was going to be a hot day. He could already feel the humidity beginning to cloy to him and the sheets he tossed off. He would have to run the A/C today. That would mean pressure on the electric bill and he hated spending money on utilities and crap like that. That was stuff you should be able to just have and not need to allocate your hard earned, but limited pay over. Maybe he’d leave it off until he got back from his workout. What did an empty apartment need cool air for?

What the hell was he holding on to this town for anyway? He had no family here and his small circle of friends were little more than acquaintances. The job was portable. The woman had shown her true colors. He had nothing here but memories, which were slowly shriveling and rotting in his affections like fruit left out in the sun. Maybe it was time to let reality in. She was never coming back to him. They would never have that magic moment, where they recaptured everything. There is a point at which hope becomes fantasy. Maybe it was time to admit he had crossed over it.

The noise returned; an insistent knock followed by the doorbell. This was a gated community. Unexpected visitors came by, but generally did not get through to beat on your door. She had. More than once she had slipped through the gate behind others and come visiting unannounced. The pounding came again, not so much urgently as demanding. That would not have been like her. She knew the sliding screen door to the bedroom was never locked.

Duncan rose and pulled his lightweight, cotton robe around his naked, sweat-dampened body and went to the door. He checked at the peephole. Two men in suits, perspiring and not happy. He had never seen them before and they carried themselves with an officious air, an obvious self-importance and impatience.

He stayed silent. What the hell could they want? He was not behind on any bills. He had not resigned the lease, but had been paying faithfully, even early, and he didn’t think two men in suits would be showing up to toss him out. They’d leave a notice, wouldn’t they? Didn’t courts use sheriff’s deputies to serve papers on you? He remembered that from a buddy who was getting divorced. These men had no papers in their hands, though, anyway. So who were they and what could they possibly want?

One of them motioned to the other and suggested looking in through the screen door to the bedroom as he reached up to knock again.

Yes? Duncan asked through the closed front door to stop them.

They turned, clearly annoyed at being addressed through the entrance rather than it being opened to them. Mr. Duncan? Timothy Duncan? asked the one in charge. Police badges came up to the peephole.

Yes. What’s the problem?

Sir, I’m Detective Elias with Detective Scarp, he said. The sir was just a word thrown in. He didn’t come close to meaning any respect. We need to ask you a few questions, sir.

About what?

Would you open the door, sir? I don’t think you want us shouting.

Duncan opened it, but only as far as the chain allowed. What’s this all about? Am I in trouble?

No, Elias answered. It’s routine. May we come in?

I was in bed, Duncan told them. The word routine alarmed him for some reason. What was ever normal about police detectives?

Sorry to wake you, but this is our second visit here. We tried to catch you last night, but I guess you were out. We won’t keep you very long, Elias told him, not sounding sorry to have roused him. It’s routine, but important.

Duncan could see no way around it or why he should be afraid to let them in. He hadn’t done anything. So why should he be fearful of them like he was?

Okay, he said. I was at the baseball game last night. Just let me get some clothes on.

Okay, sir, said Elias blandly. This man had a limit to his patience, Duncan sensed. Probably there was temper to go with the end of it.

He left the door open on the chain, while he went back to his room to pull on some shorts and a T-shirt. He knew from experience with the Marine MP’s that police eyes were always looking for something. He came back and let the cops in and led them toward the kitchen, saying, Sorry. I’ve just got a migraine or something started. I need my coffee. Do you guys want any?

No, thank you, sir, said Elias for both of them. We’re good. Mind if we sit down?

Sure, said Duncan, pointing at the table in the dining nook as he went into the galley kitchen. The dining area was visible over a small counter between the spaces. The cops took seats at the table and watched as he began setting up the coffee. So what’s going on?

You are friends with Mr. and Mrs. Ledford? Elias asked.

That was Brenda and her husband, if you wanted to call it friends. Yes, Duncan answered. I’ve known them for a couple of years. Has something happened to them? Now the alarms went off seriously and he looked over at them. The marriage had sometimes been volatile. She had shown him the occasional bruises he gave her. Had he snapped? Had he beaten her badly? Killed her? Duncan felt a tremble beginning in his body and tried to hide it by getting the coffee ready to brew.

When was the last time you saw them?

Duncan didn’t have to think when it came to Brenda. He had seen her at her house two days ago when he had fixed a faulty motion sensor in the yard. At least, that had been the excuse.

I saw Brenda a couple of days ago at their house, he answered. Her sister, Kate was there, too. Sunning herself on a copper-colored air mattress in their crystal clear pool. It had been hard to discern which was more bronzed, her or the mat. At nineteen, Kate was an oops child, produced without thought or plan, which was the path her life still seemed to be on. I was fixing part of the alarm system.

Is that what you do for a living? Maintain alarm systems.

It sounded like they already knew it, so Duncan told them he worked for Vanguard Systems and that the Ledford’s had always requested that he handle their equipment personally. They felt better knowing a friend was looking out for them, like he would have treated it as more than just another account. I learned it in the Marines, he told them.

So you’re good friends with them both? Elias asked.

I’ve known Brenda for a few years, he said. I’ve known El about two, I guess. I met him just before he and Brenda got married.

The maid says you were there a lot.

Duncan blinked. Doreen, the slow moving housekeeper who was loyal to Ledford, what could she have told them? What might she have seen or heard? Well, I was there often, he said. Parties, using the pool, sometimes for lunch. We hung out a lot.

So you and Mrs. Ledford are old friends?

About three, four years now, I guess. What’s happened?

Just friends? Never anything more?

Duncan paused and looked at them. What had they heard? What could they know? A lot of people thought that, he said, sticking to the fiction they had perpetuated for years. But no, we’re just really close and that gave people ideas. People still think that.

What about Mr. Ledford? When did you last see him?

Duncan paused as if he was thinking. It had been that same day. Ledford had come home for lunch unexpectedly, probably, they figured, to catch his wife and Duncan at it, while he was at work. Their neighbors were so good about minding each other’s business and looking to make trouble to have more to gossip about.

When they had heard the sports car pull up in the circular driveway, Duncan and Brenda had been behind the garage, where overgrown lilacs filled the air with a heavy scent and shielded them from sight. She had been holding him close in the warm air, something she didn’t always do now, whispering to him to be patient. She had told him that she knew it had been two years already. However, she was so close now to getting over the hump with her business. It wasn’t going to be long before she didn’t need her husband anymore.

Duncan had been about to kiss her, despite knowing every reason not to. He had not kissed her in months, had not held her in almost as long. The smell of her perfume through the lilacs. The feel of her body hot against his in the humid air. They were making the wait worthwhile. Anticipation of the feel of her lips on his was making him start to shiver in the heat.

Then she had pushed him away at the sound of the car. At her master’s arrival. She had dashed inside to keep him from coming into the yard. Through the garage windows, Duncan had watched the portly businessman exit the Porsche and go up the front steps, and then he had ducked out through the gate to his van and had rolled quickly down the long driveway to the street as the man was being greeted by his loving wife. He imagined how she would have smiled and told him that he had just missed Timothy, who had fixed that faulty sensor. And Kate would be there to back up her story that Duncan had never been anywhere but the yard and in the garage at the alarm system’s circuit box. If Elwood Ledford had ever doubted his young sister-in-law, he had never let it show.

Then, Ledford probably hoped to have her one day, too. Duncan suspected he had already tried.

I don’t recall, when I last saw him, Duncan told the police. I know I just missed him the other day because I saw his car as I was leaving. I guess it was a week or so ago. I ran into them at lunch one day the week before last. That was probably it. He had been meeting Brenda, but Elwood had surprised her and fortunately arrived first. They had seen Duncan come in from their table and waved him over. But Duncan had declined the feigned gracious invitation to join them and gotten a table toward the back for his solo, expensive lunch.

You weren’t at their house since that time, two days ago?

No, Duncan answered, which was entirely true. Why? What’s happened?

Have you talked with Mrs. Ledford since?

No. Again entirely true and not unusual. She would call every couple of days, when she felt it was safe. Has something happened to them?

Elias leaned forward slightly, watching him as he relayed the news, Mr. Ledford has been murdered.

What? burst out of Duncan. Shock. Alarm. Joy. Hope. He didn’t know what to feel. How? When? He leaned on the sink, where he had been standing after filling the coffee maker with water. Its gurgle and drip were suddenly lost from his hearing.

Elias seemed to be noting his reactions. He was found yesterday morning in his garage.

His garage? Duncan tried to take that in. It seemed an odd place to be murdered. How did it happen?

It looks like someone was waiting for him when he came home Thursday night, and was either already inside or had slipped in under the door before it closed, Elias told him. He put one bullet into the back of Ledford’s skull from point blank range.

Jesus, Duncan said in a gasp and found he needed to come around and sit by the cops. Jesus.

Shouldn’t the alarm system have picked him up? the cops asked.

If it was set, Duncan answered automatically. Ledford murdered. Not only that, but it was execution style, a bullet to the back of the head. Who would have done it? Ledford had stepped on a lot of toes. He had made many enemies. Yet, would someone really have put a hit on him? It seemed unreal.

Would it have been the sensor you replaced? Elias asked.

What? Duncan looked up from the spot on the floor he found he had been staring at. He saw the implication, but could they know anything certain about him and Brenda? Did they know the past? Any of the present? No. I fixed one inside the yard, near the pool.

So there was nothing wrong with the garage sensor? Elias wondered.

No, nothing that I noticed when I tested the system Thursday around noon. Duncan was feeling the shock slip away from him like a blanket sliding off. And you’re saying he was shot that same day, later that night?

Elias nodded. So the system should have detected the intruder?

Yes, if it was armed, Duncan replied.

If it wasn’t armed? asked Scarp.

Then it might make a bleep, but no alarm would go off, Duncan told them. And they are motion detectors. If you stand or sit still after the initial detection, they don’t trigger again. The system probably wasn’t armed because he wasn’t home, otherwise he would have set it off himself coming up the driveway. That’s one of the inherent faults of any alarm system. If it’s not set to sound an alarm, then you have to be watching it and checking every time it bleeps or signals. Nobody ever does that at home.

So the killer was able to walk up, hide in the shadows, and slip in under cover of Ledford’s own movements?

Yes, Duncan answered after a second. It’s that simple with a system that isn’t monitored 24/7. This was all rote. You could read it in the marketing brochures and disclaimers the firm used. Such systems were really only automatic, when you were inside and had them armed. Then, you could sit back and securely forget about them.

Duncan felt his skin flushing and going cold at the same time. They knew something or they wouldn’t have asked. Or were they fishing? It was perfectly clear to him; wife’s lover rigs the sensors to let him sneak in and kill the rich husband. So trite. So perfectly simple. With him as the number one suspect. If they knew. He couldn’t keep himself from asking, Do you have any suspects?

We don’t think it was anybody in particular at this point, Scarp answered calmly. But we are going to need to know where you were that night and follow up on it. That’s routine in these cases. Sorry if that frightens you any. But that’s the way it is.

It did scare him. But he could see it was something to be endured. He had been to a movie with Jenny for a couple of hours, then at a local bar until eleven, waiting for Brenda to call, if she was working late. The bar had been close to her office. He said, Yeah, I understand.

Don’t worry about it, Elias told him. You know we have to check everything out. You shouldn’t feel as though we were focusing on you.

Right, said Duncan. But understanding did not bring peace of mind or reduce his heart rate. And once they learned of his past with Brenda… He didn’t want to think about it. He wondered if he shouldn’t just tell them right now. But to change his story so quickly, when they already questioned him? That would make him look guilty. Maybe it was better to let it go and hope they never found anything concrete. It had been over two years and they had always kept it quiet. Maybe once the police checked out his alibi and found it couldn’t have been him, it wouldn’t matter. So what if he might have had a motive? He had no opportunity.

Was the anxiety showing on his face, he wondered? Were they reading him like a book? Could they see his every thought in his expression? How much should he tell them? How much had Brenda told them? She had never admitted their past as lovers to Ledford or anyone. Was she still keeping it a secret? It would be just like her to continue to deny it.

Why hadn’t she called to warn him that the police would be coming by? She had all of the day before and all of last night. Where had she been? Why hadn’t she warned him?

Is there something? Elias asked. He was seeing the Duncan’s expressions.

No, Duncan replied quickly. I mean, it’s a lot to take in. I’ve never known anyone that got murdered before. It’s mind-boggling, you know. I can hardly believe it.

Do you own any handguns? asked Scarp.

What? Duncan was startled by the question, and then saw the implication. No, of course not. I haven’t even touched a weapon since the Marines.

Never even thought about it for self-protection?

Thought about it a few times, he admitted, but never bought one or anything. I never felt I needed it.

Elias nodded. So how do you know Mrs. Ledford?

I met Brenda a few years ago, when she was working at the local Merck office, he told them. It was one of my accounts back then. She had been a pharmaceutical sales rep and had told him about a big party. It wasn’t an invitation to go as her date, but they had talked and it had started there. She had liked his muscles and tattoos and adventures in the Marines. He had been the bad boy back at the beginning. He had not needed a lot of money then to impress or interest her.

Damn! Someone there would surely remember their past together. He was sure someone had seen them, even if she had never mentioned something to anyone there. If Elias was thorough enough to check that out. Jesus! There was nothing to be done about it now. Just hope he doesn’t dig any further once the alibi panned out.

Damn it, Brenda! Where are you? Why didn’t you call so we could get our stories straight about the past? This was the police he was talking to!

I don’t remember when I met Ledford, Duncan continued. It was some party they were throwing together, I think. Back when they were first engaged.

So you hadn’t known him before then? Never met him?

No. I hadn’t.

You were familiar with the house, then? asked Scarp.

Most of it, at least the downstairs, he answered. I had a tour of the whole place, when I helped them moved in. They bought it after they were married, you know. But I don’t think I’ve been upstairs in months, probably over a year. The security system was on the first floor and the exterior. Why did they want to know that? What had happened? Had something happened to both of them? Was that why Brenda hadn’t called?

Did something happen at the house? Is Brenda okay? he wondered, anxiety showing, he knew. Why hadn’t anyone called him?

Mrs. Ledford is okay, Elias told him. She hasn’t contacted you?

No, Duncan replied and heard the frustration in his voice. He thought about saying how surprised he was that she didn’t call, but reconsidered for fear of being asked why he would have expected it. He was beginning to wonder just what he could say to these men.

Where were you Thursday night?

I went to a movie with a friend and then had a beer at Boxer’s.

In the little strip mall off of 79th?

Yeah, you’ve been there?

Couple times, Elias said. Was there anyone there who could verify your presence?

The bartender, a few of the regulars.

What time frame where you there?

Say nine thirty or ten to eleven. I’m not really sure.

Do you go there often?

Duncan shrugged. Often enough, I guess. The bartender knows my name.

Seems curious that a bodybuilder should be frequenting bars, said Scarp. Wouldn’t that be counterproductive?

If I was still body building, he replied. I’m just maintaining these days. At least, that’s the way it’s working out, he thought. Boxer’s had become his place to wait for her calls. He’d swung by after the early movie with Jenny. When he had heard nothing by eleven, he had gone home. Most times, he just ended up just leaving.

Did you go anywhere else? asked Elias.

No, he recalled, the disappointment coming back to him. It got deeper each time. I came straight back from there.

Talk to anyone else after that?

Duncan shook his head. He wasn’t sure if anyone in the complex could say they had seen him. He had kept to himself most of the time and had not talked to or noticed anyone outside that night.

No. No one was out when I got back.

What time did you get home?

Eleven fifteen or so. He had been in bed by eleven thirty, vowing to himself that if she called, he wasn’t getting up.

Were you close to Elwood Ledford? Scarp asked.

Close? Duncan wondered. You mean did he confide in me and things like that? No. We never told each other stuff. Nothing big anyway.

So you wouldn’t know why he had a bottle of Percocet in his glove compartment, would you?

Percocet? Duncan was surprised. Isn’t that a really strong pain killer?

Yes. Do you know if he was in chronic pain?

Duncan shook his head. No, not chronic. I know he had bouts of diverticulitis. I know those were painful. And he had back pain. He was a portly man, after all. Maybe it was for that. What does his doctor say?

His doctor is away on vacation, Scarp answered. We’ll ask him, when he gets back.

Why in his car, I wonder. Duncan said, thinking aloud.

To have it handy wherever he went, Scarp said and Duncan felt dumb. That was obvious, once someone said it. Duncan remembered something about how the pain could come on quickly. It