“I’m a control freak,” she said. “I close myself off emotionally. I’m in my forties and barely had a serious relationship. At least one long enough to matter.”
“You left me with mom and dad to go off to college,” Vanessa added.
That one caught Carla off guard.
“You talked me into going,” Carla said. “I didn’t want to. Remember?”
Vanessa nodded, admitting that Carla was right.
“I was just trying to be the noble, selfless big sister for once,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d actually go through with it.”
Carla laughed.
“What else?” Vanessa said. “How else are you a mess? I’m enjoying this.”
Carla smiled and thought about it.
“I nearly threw Sam away because it got a little uncomfortable,” she said. “My dreaded fear of the unknown.”
“Thank God you came to your senses on that one,” Vanessa said. “Sam’s a little rough around the edges at times, but he’s a good man.”
“He is,” Carla replied. “I just felt like I needed to have all my shit together before I could handle a relationship.”
“Sometimes it’s the relationship that helps you get your shit together,” Vanessa said before raising her glass in a toast. “And sometimes, the relationship creates more shit of its own.”
Carla clinked her glass to her sister’s. “Here’s to the shit.”
The two sisters laughed and continued talking until Vanessa finally excused herself to go to bed. It was while Carla was putting the wine glasses in the sink that she noticed she had a text message from a number she didn’t recognize. She opened the phone screen and was surprised at what she read:
MEET ME AT THE DIVE IN AT 11 P.M. COME ALONE.
36
Sam snuck around to the back of the mobile home. There were no lights on and it looked uninhabited, but Sam had had some bad experiences with mobile homes and he knew better to make any assumptions.
Jude had parked his truck up the road and out of sight, and Sam had walked from there. It not only gave Sam the element of surprise, but it allowed Jude to act as a lookout if someone took off running.
Sam crouched below a window, then slowly stood up to peer inside. Even though it was dark, it was a clear night, and the moon was almost full—enough to cast its pale blue glow over the weed-infested back yard, creating a reflection on the window that made it hard to see inside.
Sam cupped his hands to shield out the reflection, but it was too dark inside. Still, he crept around the outside of the mobile home, checking the full perimeter. Finally, he circled back around to the front door. He pulled the screen door open slowly. Thankfully, it wasn’t creaky. He slowly twisted the doorknob and wasn’t surprised to find it locked. Luckily, it was a fairly simple door knob with no dead bolt. Sam could pick those kinds of locks in his sleep.
Sam pulled the small lock pick set from his pocket, once again congratulating himself on his own resourcefulness. He slid a pick and small tensioner wrench out of a sleeve and knelt by the lock, using the tools to carefully release the lock’s inner pins. In less than a minute, the doorknob turned freely. Sam stood, put the lock pick set away and pulled out his handgun.
He pushed the door open with one hand, the other holding the pistol at the ready. With the moonlight at his back, he knew he was a sitting duck of a silhouette so he quickly stepped out of the door path and into the shadows. The open door allowed some moonlight inside, and Sam stood still as he let his eyes adjust.
The door had opened into the living room, which was completely empty and looked like it had been for a long time. Sam began to think he had barked up the wrong tree, but wasn’t yet ready to let his guard down. He looked to his right and could make out another room. There was also a hallway to his left. If this mobile home followed the layout of other mobile homes, the room to his right would be an eat-in kitchen and the hallway to his left would lead to a couple of bedrooms and a bath.
Sam started with the kitchen. If there would be any sign of life, that’s where it would be.
He snaked along the wall, walking lightly to stay as quiet as possible. Sure enough, the room was a small kitchen. And it appeared to have been recently occupied. A small folding table, covered with beer cans and pizza boxes, sat in the middle of the room. Sam opened one of the pizza boxes. It was empty except for a few uneaten pizza crusts. Sam pinched the bread to see how fresh it was. It was still slightly dough-y. Someone had been here very recently.
Sam looked down the length of the mobile home. From where he was standing, he could see the long, dark hallway, but he couldn’t make anything out. The moonlight wasn’t strong enough to cast any kind of glow down the corridor. If anything, it made the shadows even darker.
Suddenly, Sam heard a noise. It was faint. Just a single small creak. The unmistakable sound of a step on an old floor. He pointed his gun down the hallway.
“Who’s there?” he shouted. “Norm, is that you?”
Sam stared into the darkness, looking for any sign of life.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Sam continued. “Your wife sent me.”
He immediately wondered if that was the best association he should have made, given the fact that Norm was hiding from his wife.
“I’m here to help you,” Sam said as he took a step forward.
He thought he noticed some movement, but before he could even react, a blast from a rifle shattered the darkness.
37
The slightly muffled sounds of live music could be heard from a block away, which is where Carla had to park her car. It was a classic Bob Seger song and, under normal circumstances, Carla would sing along. But tonight she barely even noticed it.
She walked through the doors of The Dive In, and the music immediately came to life. The bar was jammed with people and the band was rocking. Carla pushed her way through the crowd, not even sure what — or who — she was looking for. When she had texted back to the cryptic message she had received earlier, the only response she received simply said:
DON’T TELL ANYONE. ASK FOR CICI.
Carla finally maneuvered her way to the server station where a tall brunette in a Lemonheads tee-shirt was collecting drinks from the bartender.
“Excuse me,” Carla yelled over the music. “Do you know where I can find Cici?”
The waitress smirked and looked at the bartender. Carla turned to see the bleached blonde woman looking at her.
“You must be Carla,” Cici yelled, extending her hand. “I’m Cici.”
She walked around the end of the bar so she was next to Carla.
“Thanks for coming,” she said loudly. “We can talk in the back.”
She motioned at a set of double swinging doors behind her that appeared to lead to a kitchen.
Carla nodded and Cici waved her hand to get the attention of a rough-looking guy bussing tables.
“Cover for me,” she yelled to the guy as she motioned for Carla to follow her.
They walked through the small kitchen to a smaller room. Inside, a young woman, probably in her mid-20s, seemed to be waiting for them. She was sitting on a bar stool next to a desk that was pushed up against the wall. The stool and desk were the only two pieces of furniture in the room.
“Hey, Roxy,” Cici said. “This is her.”
Roxy introduced herself as one of the dayshift bartenders at the tavern.
Cici sat on the edge of the desk and Roxy offered Carla the stool.
“I’ll stand. Thank you,” Carla said, unsure what was going on.
Roxy shrugged and sat back down.
“Did you send me the text?” Carla asked.
“I did,” Cici said. “Sorry about the cloak and dagger shit. And sorry for being all stalk-y. It’s just that, Sam had mentioned you and I did a little digging and found your number. I didn’t know how else to reach you without your sister knowing.”
“Why can’t my sister know?” Carla asked.
“Roxy h
ere confided in me something she had heard. Something that may or may not come to light. About your sister,” Cici explained. “I wasn’t sure whether to tell Sam, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Detective Turner. But I figured I could share it with you and you could decide what to do.”
Carla nodded, wondering what could be so bad that she was wondering whether or not to keep it a secret.
“Tell her what you told me,” Cici said to Roxy.
“I’ll just come out with it,” Roxy said. “Your sister had an affair with John Rowe about a year ago. That’s Jane’s boyfriend.”
“Yes, I know who he is,” Carla said, still processing what the young bartender had just told her.
“It didn’t last long,” Roxy said. “It was during one of their ‘separations.’ And when Norm came back, the affair ended.”
Carla was in shock. Vanessa had an affair? Carla had to force herself to stay engaged in the conversation.
“She just called it quits when Norm returned?” she asked.
“Well, kind of. They actually got caught. By Jane,” Roxy answered. “Jane and John were already dating, so he was cheating, too.”
“Holy shit,” Carla said as she leaned back against the wall.
Roxy stood and once again offered Carla the bar stool. This time she took it.
“What made it worse was that Jane and Vanessa had been pretty good friends up to that point,” Cici interjected.
Vanessa never told me she and Jane had been friends, thought Carla.
“I guess Jane eventually forgave John, since they were an item again. But she felt really betrayed by Vanessa,” Roxy said.
“Did Norm know?” Carla asked.
“He must have found out,” Roxy answered. “But he took Vanessa back anyway. And then somehow Jane and Norm became friends through the whole thing.
“I’m guessing Sam already filled you in on my theories about that,” Cici said.
Carla nodded as she tried to catch up with all the information that had just been dumped on her.
“Anyway, they managed to keep the whole thing relatively quiet, so there was no big scandal,” Roxy said. “But Jane and Vanessa never got along again.”
Carla shook her head.
“Wait. How do you know all of this?” she asked, her voice angrier than she meant for it to be. “It sounds like small town gossip to me.”
Roxy looked at Cici.
“I’m sure it does,” Cici said. “But Roxy got it straight from the horses’ mouths.”
“I heard it from John,” Roxy explained. “I can’t imagine it’s the kind of gossip he’d want to start.”
“Why did he tell you?”
Roxy shrugged. “Bartender’s curse.”
“And why are you telling me this now?” Carla asked. “Are you saying my sister killed Jane because they were mad at each other?”
Cici shook her head.
“God, no,” she said. “It’s just that…I don’t know your sister that well, but I know she’s your sister. I have a sister, too. And if you’re anything like me, we can get pretty protective.”
“I don’t understand,” Carla said.
“This is the kind of shit some ambitious lawyer would throw out in court. Or leak to the press,” Cici said. “And I guarantee you John would absolutely throw your sister under the bus if it would help keep him out of jail. I just didn’t want you to be blind-sided by it. I figured if you knew, you could plan for it.”
Carla felt the heat on her face and she took deep breaths to calm herself.
“I hope I wasn’t out of line,” Cici said.
“No,” Carla said, shaking her head. “I’m just in shock. But I appreciate it.”
Carla stood and let out a heavy sigh.
“You okay?” Roxy asked. “You don’t look so hot.”
Carla shook her head.
“I’m just realizing how little I know about my sister.”
38
Sam leapt into the kitchen, out of sight from the hallway. Pumped with adrenaline, he felt around for a wound and was relieved that he didn’t seem to be bleeding.
“I’m sorry!” the man yelled from the shadows.
Sam could hear what sounded like a rifle being dropped to the floor. He leaned forward, toppling the table on its side and using it for cover.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” the man yelled.
Sam lifted up from behind the table, his gun pointing into the darkness.
“Come out where I can see you with your hands up,” Sam yelled.
“Don’t shoot me,” the man pleaded. “I put the gun down.”
Sam’s ears were ringing from the rifle blast, but he could still hear the man walking slowly toward him.
“Where’s the fucking lights?” Sam yelled.
“Right behind you on the wall,” the man said.
Sam stood slowly, his pistol aimed at the darkness as he fumbled for the light switch. When he flipped it, both men flinched at the brightness. He looked at the man standing in front of him with his hands over his head.
It was Norm Mayhew.
Wearing a dirty T-shirt and cargo shorts, the barrel-chested man looked like he just stepped off a fishing boat. His short, light brown hair desperately needed a comb and he looked like he hadn’t shaved in several days. Or slept, for that matter.
“Please don’t shoot,” Norm said.
“What the hell, Norm?” Sam yelled, double-checking to make sure he wasn’t shot.
“How do you know my name?” Norm asked.
Sam let out a groan and walked toward Norm slowly, never dropping his pistol.
Where was Jude? He wondered. Surely he heard the rifle blast.
Sam turned Norm around and frisked him.
“Please don’t kill me,” Norm said.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Sam said. “I’m here to help.”
“Who are you?” Norm said as Sam spun him around so they faced each other.
Sam explained who he was, how he knew Vanessa and why he was there. He decided not to tell Norm that his father was with him. He had remembered what Jude had told him about Norm probably not reacting well to his presence.
“Is Nessie okay?” Norm asked.
“She’s a little pissed off at you,” Sam said sarcastically. “First the two of you have a lover’s quarrel that sends you running, then you don’t come back, and then you go and kill someone. What do you think?”
“I didn’t kill anybody,” he mumbled.
“Well, you’re not acting very innocent,” Sam said. “Innocent people don’t hide out in dark trailer homes.”
“I swear I didn’t do it,” Norm said.
Sam wasn’t convinced. Almost every guilty person he’d ever met had claimed they were innocent, sometimes even when they were caught red-handed.
“I hadn’t even talked to Jane in over a week, much less seen her,” Norm said.
Sam told him he knew about the texts Norm sent on the night she was murdered.
“Yeah, but she never answered,” Norm said. “She hadn’t answered for weeks.”
“So you decided to confront her in person,” Sam said. “And things got out of hand.”
Norm shook his head.
“No. I’d been drinking and wasn’t thinking straight,” Norm said. “Jane used to be able to talk me down. She was a good friend. Gave me advice about how to deal with Vanessa.”
“If she was such a good friend, then why was she ignoring your calls?” Sam said. “And don’t try my patience. I’m still pretty pissed you shot at me.”
“I told you I was sorry,” Norm said. “And I don’t know why she started ignoring me. Maybe John found out we were talking and got pissed. I don’t know. And, yeah. I did go to her house that night. I’d been drinking and was in a dark place. I needed to talk.”
“Well, you had a wife about a mile away,” Sam replied. “You ever think of talking to her?”
“Not while I was drinking,” Norm said.
“So, instead you go to the house of a woman you’d had an affair with,” Sam said.
Norm shook his head.
“No. It’s more complicated than that,” Norm said.
“You can see why I’m having trouble believing you,” Sam said.
“But it’s the truth,” Norm said. “I went to her house. It was about 1:00 in the morning. The door was open, so I knew something was wrong. Then I saw her lying there. And then all the blood.”
Norm clenched his eyes shut, trying to push away the memory.
“Did you see who did it?” Sam said.
Norm looked at Sam in fear, shaking his head nervously.
“No. I didn’t see anyone.”
Sam could tell he was lying.
“I don’t believe you, Norman,” Sam said.
“I swear,” Norm insisted. “You have to believe me.”
“Why didn’t you call 9-1-1?” Sam asked, shifting gears.
“I couldn’t,” Norm said. “I know how it sounds, but I was drunk and in shock and I just…ran.”
Sam studied Norm’s face. He wasn’t sure whether he was a really good liar or just a pathetic weasel. He also didn’t look like someone capable of committing such a violent act. Still, something about his story just wasn’t sitting right.
“I need you to come back with me,” Sam said.
Norm shook his head vehemently. “No,” he said. “I can’t.”
“Look, I got here first but your buddy Paul Turner is probably going to figure out you’re here soon enough,” Sam said. “It’ll look much better if you come in on your own.”
“I can’t,” Norm said. “You don’t understand.”
“Then just tell me,” Sam said. “Who did you see there?”
Norm shook his head.
“I can’t.”
“Did they threaten you?” Sam asked. “I can protect you. But I can’t do anything if you don’t help me out here.”
Norm sighed, realizing he didn’t really have a choice. He nodded and was about to tell Sam, but a look of fear suddenly swept over his face. Before Sam could turn to see what had caused the reaction, he felt a sharp pain crack through his skull.
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