Sam might not have heard. He stared at her, his black eyes calm, like polished obsidian, his expression blank.
“If there had been any weakness anywhere,” she continued, “they’d—”
“No.” Sam shook his head. “No, there’s more to it.” He turned back to the diagram. “I can’t quite get it, but there’s something here. I’m sure of it.”
Lacey bit her lip. She certainly couldn’t argue hunches with Sam; he saw, heard, felt things she never could. But she couldn’t see how anything about the deaths could refute the facts in those other documents. It was an open and shut case. At least for her it was.
“Well, I’m going to go figure out what to fix for dinner. I don’t know about you, but I’m getting hungry.”
She wasn’t terribly surprised that he didn’t answer.
~~~
SIX
The next day, Friday, the clouds parted and sun, rather than rain, poured down. After the weeks of gloominess, it felt a little like getting out of jail. Lacey took her second cup of coffee out to their tiny back yard and soaked up the warmth.
Sam joined her briefly. “I’m going to put a load into my fire pit and get it going. I just hope I have enough dry wood.” He was already pulling on a light jacket, and had his truck keys in his hand.
“And dry sheep dung?” she queried.
“Oh, yeah, that’s dry. I keep that protected in buckets with lids.”
“Of course,” she laughed. “Gotta keep that sheep dung protected. Hey,” she said, thinking ahead. “Maybe we can do something fun with the kids this weekend. Something outside.”
“Good idea,” he said, leaning down for a goodbye kiss. “We’ll see what they’re up for. I may be gone all day.”
“Fire-tending, yes, I know,” she said with a smile. “I’ll be here when you get home.”
She was glad something else had taken the forefront of his mind. He’d been very quiet last night, no doubt still mulling over the pieces of this case. She felt sure that letting go of it to fire his pots would do more for him than continuing to worry it.
Taking her empty coffee cup to the kitchen, she peered out the window and wondered what the kids would enjoy. She felt sure their physical activity at school had been reduced through the rainy weeks, as well, so doing something beside sitting and watching TV would do them all some good. Maybe miniature golf, hiking, go-karting…?
As she turned away from the window, her eyes caught on the stack of papers she’d shoved to one side of the counter. She frowned. What might Sam be feeling about this case that she wasn’t? She wondered if he’d made any headway at all. Just out of curiosity, she pulled the diagram out. There’d been an attempt to depict the bodies in the ways they’d been found—the proverbial chalk outlines—but some of them were… puzzling. She pulled out the full ME report and took it and the diagram to the table.
Starting front to back—just like Sam had—the report recounted the findings one by one.
Warren Knox, the manager, was found face down, facing the front door. His outline on the diagram showed his full body. Cause of death: blunt force trauma.
Pam Devlin, the admin assistant, was very similar. Face down, facing the door, blunt force trauma. Lacey wondered if they were found together because they worked in close proximity, maybe an office area in a corner of the warehouse.
Mario Escobar, the foreman, was not found laid out flat on the floor, but was hunkered down, his arms over his head. No amount of ducking and covering, however, could stand up to the blunt force trauma that rained down from above.
The two forklift drivers were different yet again. Jay Rafferty was found still on his forklift, although crushed to the floor of it, between the seat and the gear box. Tate Beall was pounded to the ground between the two forklifts.
Hugh Bellamy, the truck driver who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, was positioned more like Pam and Warren, flat out on the ground.
The ME report noted that the heavy debris on each “protected” the bodies, somewhat, from the fire. Lacey took that to mean there were more remains than just ash and bone. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. She knew there was a reason she hadn’t been drawn to be a medical examiner.
Still, neither the ME’s report nor the diagram spoke to her. What was it whispering to Sam? Taking her own advice, she shelved both and turned to more immediate chores like laundry and vacuuming.
~~~
When they picked up the kids on Saturday, the clear skies were holding, so they put out the suggestions for outdoor activities. Kenzie immediately opted for miniature golf, while Daniel groaned his displeasure and voted for go-karting. Since the two activities were co-located, they decided to do both.
Daniel moped through the mini golf. As they all stood near the tee areas of each hole, waiting their turns, he held himself apart, as if to say, “I’m not really with them.” He scowled at his errant shots and had dramatic meltdowns over narrow misses. Finally Lacey edged up close to Sam so she could whisper to him.
“Did something happen that we don’t know about?”
“I don’t know,” Sam said, his jaw tight. “But I’ve had about enough of this sour attitude. Let’s take a break after the ninth hole and grab a soda. I’ll talk to him.”
They got sodas all around and Lacey and Kenzie took seats at one of the wooden picnic tables set outside the snack bar. Sam and Daniel took a stroll out of earshot.
“So how’s school?” Lacey asked Kenzie.
The girl shrugged. “It’s okay. History is boring. But I like art class.”
Lacey smiled. “You’ve probably inherited some of your dad’s talent. You’re not doing ceramics, though, are you?”
“Nah. Drawing and painting. I don’t think I can get into ceramics until high school. What’s Dad saying to Daniel?”
The sudden change of subject, plus Kenzie’s sudden interest, alerted Lacey. She looked over. Sam was talking quite earnestly to Daniel, while the boy stood glowering down at the ground. Daniel’s stance was half defiant, half ashamed. Lacey guessed he was hearing things he didn’t want to hear.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve noticed Daniel’s attitude,” Lacey said.
Kenzie made a face. “Ugh, yeah. He’s been a real grouch.”
“I know,” Lacey said. “He’s still hurting from the breakup with Tori, but I’m afraid it’s affecting all of us, and that’s not good. He needs to find more constructive ways to vent his unhappiness.”
“Yeah,” Kenzie agreed, “like take up kick-boxing or something. Sheesh.”
Lacey realized that wasn’t a bad idea. Daniel enjoyed sports, but had never gone out for a place on any team. Maybe some organized team sport would give him a good outlet for his moodiness.
After a few more minutes, Sam and Daniel made their way back to the picnic table. Daniel was quiet, and wouldn’t meet Lacey’s eyes.
“Ready to go on?” Sam asked.
Lacey downed the last of her soda. “Sure. You done, Kenzie?”
Kenzie made loud slurping noises with her straw, then burped. “Yeah. ‘Scuse me.” She peeked up at her dad.
“Nice,” he grumbled.
Kenzie giggled.
There was a change in Daniel, although it was subtle. His exclamations of disgust over a missed putt were milder, and he even laughed when Sam scored an eight on the hole with the two-foot-tall volcano. Lacey took that as a good sign. When they handed in their golf clubs and boarded their go-karts, he became more animated, and challenged his dad directly to a race. While Lacey and Kenzie kept a more moderate speed, the guys flew around the track. Daniel edged his dad out by mere inches, but crowed loudly about it. By the time they headed for home, Lacey was hopeful the more positive mood would last.
It wasn’t until she was in the kitchen fixing dinner that she found out the whole story. The kids were watching TV and Sam came in to see if he could give her some help.
“You wanna slice onions and tomatoes?” she a
sked. “I’m making hamburgers.”
“Sure.” He got the cutting board and the knife, then pulled an onion and two tomatoes from the fridge. He set up next to Lacey at the kitchen counter as she molded ground beef into patties.
“Friend of Daniel’s saw Tori hanging out at the mall last night with another guy,” Sam said quietly. “Snapped a pic and sent it to him.”
“Oh,” Lacey breathed. “I’m sure that didn’t go over well.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“You know, it’s so obvious he’s still in love with her,” Lacey said. “Why doesn’t he try to win her back?”
Sam took a couple of thin slices off the onion, cutting carefully. “I don’t know if he’s even thought that out. I think he’s just being totally reactive at this point. He’s hurting, so he just stomps around like a wounded bear.”
“Well, yeah,” Lacey agreed, “but who wants to spend time with a wounded bear? Wouldn’t be my first choice.”
Over dinner, Daniel was still quiet, and still wouldn’t meet either Lacey’s or Sam’s eyes for more than a few seconds. The only time he dropped the mantle of self-pity was when Kenzie talked about how fun the go-karts were, and Daniel had to rub in his victory over his dad. At that moment, laughing and smiling, that was the real Daniel, Lacey thought. That was the boy Tori had fallen in love with.
After dinner, they settled in to watch a movie, but halfway through, Sam’s cell phone rang.
“It’s Ray Gibbons,” he told Lacey. “I’m going to take it.” He got up and went to the kitchen, answering as he walked. Lacey couldn’t hear his quiet words over the sound of the TV, but knew he’d clue her in later.
Kenzie took advantage of the interruption. “Can we pop popcorn?”
“Sure,” Lacey said. “Daniel, you want some?” She paused the movie.
“Um, okay.”
Lacey was glad to see his appetite overrule his tough guy reticence. As soon as Lacey and Kenzie headed for the kitchen, he began checking his phone.
In the kitchen, Lacey got out the popcorn and two large bowls. While she measured corn into the popper, Sam was finishing up his phone call.
“Sure,” he said. He sent Lacey a look of annoyance. “Nine a.m.? That’s fine. We’ll be there.”
Lacey put the popper in the microwave and started the process. “What’s happening?” she asked.
Sam exhaled heavily. “Ray’s not happy. He wants results and he wants them soon. He wants us to wrap this up so he can clear the lot. I told him I need to walk again, so we’ll go back Monday morning.”
“All right,” Lacey said. She snorted. “If he wants my results right now, he’s really not going to be happy, because I can’t find a thing to refute the insurance company’s conclusions.”
“I know,” Sam said. “I don’t think it’s quite that open and shut, but we’ll see if I can put more together after another walk.”
Lacey nodded, then glanced over at Kenzie, who was listening closely.
“Can I go?” the girl asked. “I can feel ghosts just like you do.”
“I know you can, honey,” Sam said. He laid his hand on her shiny black hair. “Not this time. For one thing, I don’t want you to miss school, and for another, this isn’t a fun case. Six people died. There’ll be another time when you can help.”
Kenzie screwed up her face to protest, but when Sam said six people died, her indignation leaked out on a shocked exhale.
“Six?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yeah. A roof collapsed. I don’t think you need to feel what they felt. There’ll be other cases that aren’t quite so… intense. You can help on one of those. Okay?”
Still assimilating the emotional import, Kenzie swallowed. “Okay,” she agreed. “But you promise?”
“I promise. Cross my heart.” Sam pantomimed the motion, drawing an X over his heart with his finger. “Now, how long ‘til the popcorn’s ready? The smell is killing me.”
When bedtime rolled around, Lacey gathered up the empty popcorn bowls and took them to the kitchen while the kids went to brush their teeth. Sam followed her.
“I’m going to talk to Daniel for a couple minutes in his room,” he said.
“He seems a little better,” Lacey said. “Not quite so down in the dumps.”
“Maybe,” Sam hedged. “I just hope he’ll be a little more open to what I say. Not just go through the motions to get me off his back, but really take it in.”
Lacey smiled weakly. “Well, you know teenagers. They all think their parents are hopelessly out of date and out of touch. You might say something and he’d completely disregard it, but if one of his friends said the same thing, he’d think it was gold.”
“Yeah,” Sam muttered. “I know.”
Lacey sighed as he walked out. She didn’t envy him this phase of Daniel’s. She could remember her own rebellious teenage years; she’d been tough on her parents, too. While her older brother had been happy to follow in their father’s footsteps and channel his school years toward becoming a firefighter, she’d disregarded every suggestion her parents had offered. She’d insisted on blazing her own trail, and she’d had to learn every lesson by her own experience. Perhaps Daniel would be the same.
If so, it was going to be a tough few years.
~~~
SEVEN
The next day, the rain returned, although it wasn’t as relentless as the earlier storms. Still, it was enough to keep the family inside. Lacey realized it was a good thing they’d taken advantage of the clear day Saturday.
After breakfast, Kenzie asked her dad if he would give her some pointers on making pottery, so they staked out the dining room table with an oilcloth and a couple pounds of slick, gray clay. Lacey finished in the kitchen and thought she might work on some background checks. She guessed Daniel would sit with his phone or watch TV.
She was wrong.
“Lacey?”
She’d just closed up the dishwasher and turned to find the boy standing with his notebook and a pencil. He kept his head down but peered at her from beneath his brows.
“Yeah,” she said. “What’s up?”
“Do you know about Miranda?”
Lacey did a bit of a double-take. “Ernesto Miranda?”
Daniel shrugged. “I don’t know. The Miranda law.”
“Sure,” she said. “It’s not really a law. It’s a ruling, and became a warning to people being arrested. Are you studying that?”
“Yeah.” Daniel held up his notebook. “I have to write a paper about it.”
She thought he might continue, but he just looked at her hopefully.
Asking for help does not come easily, she thought.
“You wanna talk about it?” she asked. “Maybe I can answer any questions you have?” She waved to the breakfast table in the corner.
“Okay.” He plopped his notebook down on the table and pulled out a chair. Lacey took the chair across from him.
“So it’s not a law?” he asked. He sat with his pencil poised.
“Not exactly,” she said. “It started with a case back in the 1960s when a guy—Ernesto Miranda—was arrested in Arizona for a bunch of crimes. I can’t even remember them all, but I think burglary and kidnapping were on the list. Anyway, the Supreme Court found that his rights had been violated because he’d never been told he didn’t have to respond to questioning or that he could have a lawyer present. So because of that, he was not convicted of his crimes, and now whenever police arrest someone they have to read them their rights. You’ve seen that on TV and in movies, right? ‘You have the right to remain silent,’ and so on.”
Daniel nodded. “But so the guy got away with his crimes? He didn’t go to jail?” The boy frowned at the injustice.
“Actually, he was retried when new testimony came to light, and he was convicted that time.” She grinned. “The police learned real quick that not going by the book could get criminals off, and now they always make sure people understand their rights.”
; Daniel made a quick note in his book, but his brow was creased. “But if the guy did those things, committed those crimes, why wasn’t he convicted the first time? Knowing or not knowing his rights wouldn’t change the fact that he was guilty.”
“You’re actually right,” Lacey said. “But our legal process is based on the concept of ‘innocent until proven guilty,’ right? So until guilt is proven, we have to provide every protection of a suspect’s rights. If we don’t do that, an innocent person could be convicted unfairly.”
Daniel tapped his pencil on his notebook, thinking hard. “What about when there’s witnesses? When it’s obvious? Like, if a guy shoplifts and runs out of the store, and the police are right there and catch him with the stolen stuff. He’s guilty, right?”
Lacey smiled grimly. “Okay, let’s look at this. Let’s say the guy who got caught was you. Let’s say the store manager saw you and a friend walk in the store, and on one of those security mirrors he saw one of you grab a brand new $1000 smart phone off a display. He called the cops right away, then you ran out with the phone in your hand and the cops nabbed you. You’re guilty, right?”
Daniel eyed her warily. “Yeah, I guess.”
“But,” Lacey continued, “what the store manager didn’t see was that your friend was the one who stole the phone, and while the manager was calling the cops, you actually grabbed it away from him because you didn’t want him stealing and you were going to put it back. Then your ‘friend’”—she used air quotes—“got mad and pulled out a knife. When you refused to give him back the phone, he lunged at you with the knife and so you ran away from him and out of the store—right to the cops outside.” She tilted her head at him. “Are you guilty?”
“No.” His mouth quirked into a lopsided smile.
“So,” Lacey said, “if that happened to you, you’d want to be sure all your rights were protected, wouldn’t you? So you could tell the whole story. After all, things aren’t always how they appear. Sometimes there’s a story behind the story.”
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