by Karen Rose
Now his eyes flickered. ‘And?’ he said.
‘And . . . Evan’s date had a scam running with her partner, the hotel clerk. Credit card fraud and blackmail. But Evan didn’t check in under his own name. He used the Ted Gamble card. You weren’t looking for Evan, you were looking for Ted. Why?’
His dark eyes studied hers intently. ‘You already know. So why do you ask?’
‘Those IDs were excellent work. They fooled us all.’
‘Should I say thank you or call my attorney?’
‘The first one, I think.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’
‘You wanted to do the right thing, Mr Maynard. When my child was at risk you did do the right thing. Sometimes I need information. Sometimes it’s not always . . . easy to come by.’
‘Or legal?’
‘Sometimes. Sometimes people need help and the legal way isn’t the fast way. I’ve surprised you.’
‘Yes, you have. Your husband was a DA,’ he said and she blinked.
‘Checking up on me?’
‘Yeah. I almost didn’t give you that photo. Ultimately it worked out.’
‘Mostly. A cop’s still in ICU while his wife rocks their baby alone. Knowing who we were looking for sooner might have prevented that. But that would be the past. Wouldn’t it?’
‘It would. What are you suggesting?’
She smiled. ‘Nothing. Until I need some information.’
‘What if I need information?’
She thought of Cordelia, safe in bed. She owed him for that. ‘You have my card. It’s got my cell. Have a good day, Mr Maynard.’
Thursday, May 6, 11.00 A.M.
‘Hey.’ JD stood in the doorway of Lucy’s hospital room, her duffle in one hand and her overnight bag in the other. And a smile on his face.
Lucy couldn’t think of a better way to start her day. ‘Good morning.’
He came in, kissed her forehead. ‘Sleep okay?’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Okay. Why the peck?’
‘Because I’m here,’ Stevie said, coming in behind him, a big cup of coffee in her hand. ‘I got the evil eye from a pack of nurses for bringing in contraband.’
‘Thank you,’ Lucy said. ‘I needed this.’
Stevie stared at the flowers. ‘I thought you were kidding, JD. So did you tell her?’
‘No, I just got here,’ he said, rolling his eyes. ‘You have a visitor. I wanted to be sure you were ready before I told her to come back.’
Lucy put her coffee aside. ‘Ready for what?’ she asked warily.
‘Good question,’ Stevie said. She went to the door and waved.
A woman entered and Lucy’s cup stopped halfway to her lips as her memory churned. She was older, a little heavier, but still beautiful. ‘Sara Derringer?’
Sara crossed to Lucy’s bed. ‘I didn’t think you’d remember me.’
‘I do. I’m surprised to see you.’
Sara looked down. ‘Your detectives came to my house this morning.’
Lucy frowned. ‘What?’ She looked at JD. ‘Why?’
Sara drew a deep breath and pulled a box from her purse. She handed it to Lucy and Lucy stared at it. ‘Open it,’ Sara said.
There was only one missing puzzle piece, and now that it was in her hands, she was afraid. ‘I don’t want to.’
‘Just do it,’ JD said softly. ‘You need to. We need to finish this so we can go on.’
Shaking her head, she opened the box. As she thought, it held a heart-shaped diamond necklace. ‘You had it, all this time?’
‘Yes,’ Sara said. ‘Buck came to see me the night he died. He’d fought with your parents, about Ileanna Bryan and that necklace. By the time he got to my house, he was drunk. Really drunk, and crying. He told me everything. And I was horrified.’
‘What did he say?’ Lucy asked, still staring at the necklace.
‘We both knew he’d taken Ileanna to the prom to spite me. I’d cheated, just like he had. But he was allowed to have girls on the side and I wasn’t. He dumped me, and then he took Ileanna to the prom to hurt me. After the dance, he boasted to the boys that he and Ileanna were going to do it under the bleachers on the football field, kind of daring them to follow. What he didn’t know was that Ileanna’s ex was following them too.’
‘Ricky Joyner. He raped Ileanna.’
‘Yeah. And Buck stood there and watched, too shocked or maybe too scared to stop him. Him, the big quarterback, oozing sex appeal, macho man, couldn’t defend his date. When the other boys arrived they cheered Ricky on and laughed at Buck. Because he was a coward. And not a man.’
Lucy looked up and met Sara’s eyes. ‘Buck wouldn’t have taken that well.’
‘No. He didn’t. It was like he’d been knocked off the top of the totem pole. The prom king, dethroned,’ she said dramatically, but her voice held tears. ‘After Ricky ran away, the boys got scared. Ileanna was really hurt. It was Buck’s idea to make it look like a robbery.’
‘He stole her necklace and her purse, which had her bracelet in.’
‘Yes. He got rid of the purse, but kept the jewelry.’
‘Why?’ Lucy asked. ‘That’s the part that didn’t make sense.’
‘At first he thought he could give it back. He took it home and hid it, then he learned that Ileanna had died. He swore he’d taken her home and dropped her off and because he was Buck Trask and your father was sheriff, nobody questioned it. Sometime during the night he got worried that Ricky would tell, that they’d all go to prison.’
‘So he killed him.’
‘Yes. He and Sonny Westcott.’
Lucy’s eyes widened. ‘Sonny Westcott helped Buck kill Ricky Joyner?’
‘That’s what Buck said, and I don’t think he was lying. He figured he’d have to restrain Rick, which is why Sonny went too. Sonny hit him, but Ricky was so stoned he didn’t fight back. Buck put the gun in Ricky’s mouth, wrapped Ricky’s hand around it, and pulled the trigger. He used one of your father’s throwaway guns.’
Lucy let out a careful breath. ‘My father had a throwaway gun?’
‘He had a whole stash, according to Buck.’
‘My father had a stash of throwaway guns?’ Hell. How many times had he needed to plant evidence? Lucy didn’t think she really wanted to know.
‘Yes, and Buck took one. He said Sonny had made fun of him until he grabbed the gun and just drove. Buck wanted to get back that top-of-the-totem-pole feeling. Except he couldn’t live with himself afterward. He couldn’t sleep, kept looking in the box to see if anyone had found out he was keeping the jewelry. Finally your mother found it and called him out. They fought, and he came to my place. He asked me to hold the necklace, that he thought it was valuable. He wanted to give it back to the Bryans, to make up for what he’d done.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I was horrified. I told him that a necklace wouldn’t bring Ileanna or Ricky back. He left on the motorcycle and wrecked on his way home. I think it was suicide in its own way.’
It was what she had feared, but still . . . He wanted to make amends. Which meant nothing. Sara was right. Nothing would bring Ileanna or Ricky back. ‘How did the detectives find you?’
‘I saw Sara’s picture,’ JD said, ‘in the file Higgins made for you. She was at Buck’s funeral, looking frustrated as she walked by the coffin, holding something with a chain.’
‘I wanted to put the necklace in the coffin with him,’ Sara said. ‘I was eighteen and it seemed very Romeo and Juliet to me, to bury him with what killed him. But it was a closed coffin, because of the accident. I hadn’t thought of that. I was young and so upset. So I held onto the necklace, but couldn’t hold the secret. I told my parents. My dad was going to go to the authorities, to tell them that Buck and Sonny had killed Ricky. Dad made the mistake of giving your father a courtesy heads-up.’
Lucy closed her eyes, unsurprised by anything now. ‘Finish, please.’
‘There was a fire “of unknown origin” in
our house that night. Dad was able to put it out, but we were scared. There’s justice and there’s protecting your family. We decided not to tell. We took a Polaroid of the necklace and told your dad that it had Buck’s prints all over it, and maybe his too. That we’d keep it as insurance that we’d have no more fires or other calamities. Your father agreed. And we moved away.’
‘Now that he’s dead, it’s safe,’ Lucy said.
‘Yes. I’m sorry, Lucy. If I had known you were at risk, I would have told you long ago.’
She nodded. ‘I understand. It’s not okay, but I understand. I’m not sure I would have done things differently.’ She held the box out to Sara. ‘Take it back. I don’t want it.’
Sara flashed a panicked look at JD. ‘I don’t want it either.’
‘We’ll hold onto it,’ Stevie said, ‘as evidence. It’s not a real diamond, Lucy. It’s only paste. Good paste, good enough to have fooled the Bryans. It’s only worth about a thousand dollars twenty years later. Then, not worth a lot.’
‘Certainly not the lives it cost,’ Lucy murmured.
‘We gave the Bryans twice what it was worth back then,’ Sara said. ‘My dad wrote them a check, said it was an investment in their fishing business. But they ended up moving and we never heard from them again.’ She grabbed her purse in both hands. ‘Take care, Lucy.’
Stevie sighed when Sara was gone. ‘I’m going into the office. You coming, JD?’
‘In a few. See you there.’ Stevie left and JD pocketed the box.
‘I think I’m going back to sleep,’ Lucy said glumly. ‘Where is Sonny now?’
‘Here at the hospital. Daphne says we don’t have a prayer of charging him. Since the other two people who might know the truth – Buck and your father – are dead, we won’t know what really happened unless Sonny gets a sudden need to pull a Malcolm and confess.’
‘I don’t see that happening,’ Lucy said.
‘Me neither. His career could be over, simply on the basis of his injuries. It seems he also has some spinal cord damage and brain swelling. Evan did a number on him with that bat.’
‘We may have to be content that he can’t be the sheriff anymore,’ she said. ‘Now I really want to go back to sleep.’
He traced her lip with his thumb. ‘How about some good news?’
‘Good news. Do I have any? Well, Gwyn called me this morning. She’s going apartment hunting. She’s can’t stay where she is, not after Royce. Evan. Which I understand. Completely. But still.’ She shrugged uneasily. ‘She’s pulled away from me. She’s never done that before.’
‘She needs time. You knew she would. So where does that leave you, apartment-wise?’
‘I don’t know. I moved there for the Pughs. Gwyn moved because of me. Our house of cards went thunk. I’ll start looking for something new when I’m out of this cast. Which will be weeks. Even before that I’m going to need something on the bottom floor, and my place is a walk-up. So other than we’re not dead, no good news.’
‘When I said “good news”, I meant I have some. I sold my house.’
She blinked at him. ‘I didn’t know you had a house to sell.’
‘It was my aunt’s. I bought it from her when I came home and lived in it with Maya. It’s been on the market for more than a year.’
‘But you sold it?’
‘The buyer signed the contract this morning. He also bought Maya’s car. Apparently catching a multiple murderer makes my stuff worth something.’
‘So where will you live?’
He grinned sheepishly, his dimple appearing. ‘I was so excited about a new place that I went on line and started looking last night.’
She couldn’t help but smile back at him. ‘And what did you find?’
‘I was thinking about an apartment with a elevator.’
Her brows went up. ‘Really?’
‘Yeah. I called Barb Pugh last night and asked her where the facility you chose for Mr Pugh was located.’ Lucy’s mouth fell open, her heart squeezing hard. But before she could say a word, he’d forged on. ‘I’m taking a vacation day today to check out a place that’s closer to work and very near to where Mr Pugh will be, once Barb makes the move.’
Her breath caught in her throat. ‘You don’t have to do that for me.’
‘I’m not. It’s for me.’ He smiled. ‘I’d like to be close so I can come hear you play.’
She took his hand. ‘You know, I’ve been known to give private concerts.’
‘Have you now?’
‘I have indeed.’
He eyed her cast. ‘The stilettos are out for a while, but how about the dress?’
Lucy smiled. ‘I think that can be arranged.’
Epilogue
Saturday, November 6, 10.30 P.M.
‘She’s back.’
JD glanced up at the grimly satisfied and very relieved face of Thomas Thorne. Then he turned his eyes back to the stage where Lucy played her electric violin with the band for the first time since that day in May when so many lives had been irrevocably changed.
‘Indeed,’ JD said. ‘She is back.’
And she was. After almost six months’ recuperation, Lucy was on the stage looking like nothing had changed. Like she hadn’t nearly been killed. Like she hadn’t seen her father executed before her eyes. Like she hadn’t learned things about her family that she could have lived a lifetime without knowing.
She was up there in black leather and stiletto heels, playing with the same fire and intensity that had made him fall. Irrevocably. And he was so damn glad he had.
‘She sounds the same,’ Thorne said proudly. ‘Not a sour note in the piece.’
‘She’s been practicing,’ JD said. Every night. He much preferred her practicing now that she no longer wore the cast, because it always left him wanting more. Much more.
They’d managed to get creative around the cast, but the day she’d had it removed had been cause for much celebration. Still, it had taken her months more to get back to normal.
Not one of the cheering fans would know that in the last six months she’d worked her ass off in physical therapy to be able to steadily stand for long hours at the table in the autopsy suite or for agonizing minutes next to a grieving family as she did the identifications.
And nobody would know what those identifications took out of her. JD knew, because he was there in the still of the night when the grief she witnessed every day became too much to bear. That’s when she turned to him, holding fast until the wave of sadness passed.
And she did the same for him. After six months in Homicide he’d yet to have a case that came close to the one that had brought them together – for which he was very thankful. There was a lot of paperwork, a lot of waiting, a lot of asking the same kinds of questions. The notifications were the worst part – that personal moment with the victims’ family in which he was forced to tear apart their world. This he had in common with Lucy and it was the days he had to notify a family that he tended to need her the most.
She’d made him whole and happy and he wasn’t sure what he’d done before she’d stumbled across a murder scene and into his life. It didn’t really matter what he’d done before. He didn’t have to do without her now.
She looked up then, and met his eyes across the crowded club. Her smile was private and knowing and made him instantly hard as a rock. Then her gaze shifted, her eyes widening.
JD followed her line of sight, as did Thorne. It was Gwyn. She’d come out of the office and was standing along the back curtain, alone, her expression stony. But her eyes held pain, just as they had for six months. She’d slept with a monster who’d murdered so many.
‘She hasn’t smiled in six months,’ Thorne said, his booming voice gone deep and quiet.
‘Has she seen the therapist Stevie recommended?’ JD asked.
‘I don’t think so. She keeps to herself, comes in, does the books. Keeps my calendar for court. But she doesn’t perform. Doesn’t socialize. I even got her n
ew bullwhips, but she didn’t care. It’s like she’s not in there anymore.’
‘She’s there,’ JD said. Over the months he had come to actually like the oversized defense attorney. Thorne loved both Lucy and Gwyn like a brother and that was a mark in his favor in JD’s book. ‘Gwyn’s got to find her way back on her own.’
The music came to a crashing climax and then there were only cheers and whistles and chants for more. Gwyn silently disappeared behind the curtain without a smile or a word.
‘She’ll go back to the office until it’s time to go home,’ Thorne said sadly.
To the apartment with three deadbolts on the door and extra locks on every window. And a gun in her closet. JD knew because he’d put the locks on for her, hoping a feeling of safety would prompt her return to those who loved her. But it hadn’t and Gwyn had withdrawn into the overlocked fortress.
‘Lucy worries about her,’ JD said. ‘But there doesn’t seem to be anything we can do.’
‘I worry about them both,’ Thorne confessed. ‘Has Lucy been out to see her mother?’
‘Yeah,’ JD said. ‘She went out there the first day she could walk after getting the cast off. The orthopedist gave her a cane and she got up to her mother’s stoop at the same time Sonny Westcott was leaving his house. It was awkward.’
Thorne made an angry face. ‘I’ll bet.’
‘Sonny’s walking with a cane too. Evan did some real damage to his spine. Anyway, Sonny stood on his mother’s stoop glaring for a minute. Lucy glared back. If it had come to a fight, I would have put my money on her.’
Sonny Westcott had, as JD had predicted, remained mute on the question of his involvement in the murder of Ricky Joyner. The only satisfaction was knowing that the entire town knew what he’d done and what he was. He’d never hold a law enforcement position again.
And Sonny Westcott now lived with his mother. That might be worse than prison.
‘No question,’ Thorne agreed. ‘Lucy versus Sonny, Lucy every time. How was she after seeing her mother?’