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"I gave him that pen for his birthday." Her composure broke and tears started to fall. Garrett looked around, found a box of tissues, and passed them to her. She took them gratefully and wiped her eyes. Even in tears, Ginger Martin was a beautiful woman. Garrett hated to think how such a loss was going to affect her. However, Garrett's job was dealing with the deceased, not the survivors. "Could you tell me who would want to see Carter Hunt dead?" he asked. "Did he have enemies?" "He used a lot of real life in his books," Ginger answered. "There are probably more than a few people who weren't happy with him." "Could you be more specific?" "If I saw his address book, maybe," Ginger replied. "Some things he wrote were too specific to be from memory. He had to have notes or something." "Thank you. We'll take a look." "We're
all done here, Garrett," Jackson told him from the doorway. The detective stood, reaching into his suit jacket pocket for a card. "If you think of anything else, please let me know." As he moved to go, Ginger reached out to stop him. "Carter was important to me, Sergeant. Will you keep me informed?" "Of course, Ms. Martin." Ginger left before the detectives, and they weren't the only ones to watch her go. Jackson noticed Garrett's heightened interest. "You sure you want to get involved with that?" "I don't know what you're talking about, Jackson." "Uh, huh," Jackson responded. "By the way, there's no sign of forced entry or struggle. Whoever killed him had a key. He knew ‘em." "Then we better find his address book and journal." "Haven't seen anything like that yet," Jackson replied. "I'll have the computer checked. Be careful with her, Garrett. She's trouble." "Good thing trouble's our business, then, isn't it, Jackson?" # They weren't able to recover anything from Hunt's computer, but they did find his calendar if nothing else. However, it was written in Hunt's unique code. It was frustrating, time consuming work. However, they were beginning to get a consistent, if unflattering picture of Carter Hunt. Apparently, the world-class author was also a world-class jerk. "Why do people feel the need to code these things?" Garrett asked, picking up the notebook-sized calendar. "Who actually cares when a guy has a dentist appointment?" "Depends on the dentist," Jackson commented. "And what was being drilled." "Maybe we could get some help..." Jackson looked at his partner over the rim of a coffee cup. "Ginger?" Garrett shrugged. "She's known him a long time, and she wants to help." "That's
a bad idea, Garrett, getting involved with her. She's a suspect
for crying out loud. A good suspect, too." "Jackson..." "Don't ‘Jackson' me, Garrett, it's police work 101. Ginger had means, she had opportunity..." "What's her motive?" "The man was a yutz. That makes her close to the top of the list, and you want her to help us with the investigation?" "Make your point, Jackson," Garrett growled. "Come on, Garrett, I know you've been seeing her lately - be careful, would ya? I've seen women like her before, and I don't want to see you get hurt." "Your
concern is touching, Jackson, but I can take care of myself."
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