The Necklace

by Matt Witten

  “Why’d you do it? Did you think that was Amy’s necklace?” His eyes widened in disbelief. “Do you think I had something to do with her death?”

  She froze, unable to speak. His hands came away from his sides and his fingers stretched out like he was about to grab her and shake her. “Answer me, Susan!”

  The nearest pedestrian was a woman in a Post Office uniform carrying a satchel, a full block away and headed in the other direction. Susan took another step back and felt the heel of her boot almost coming off the sidewalk. Her leg wobbled.

  But then she thought, Amy would want me to be strong. She steadied herself and stared directly at Danny’s face. “Where did you get that necklace?”

  He glared at her, but took a breath to control himself and dropped his hands. “I made it.”

  Now Susan was the one giving a disbelieving look. “You made it?”

  “Yes,” Danny snapped. “It’s not so hard, you just put beads together on a string.”

  “But where did you find the beads? They were the exact same as Amy’s.”

  “How can you even ask me these questions? For God’s sake, look at me.” He held his arms up, as if submitting himself to being searched. “I’m Danny. Your childhood sweetheart. Regular guy. You’ve known me most of your life!”

  He’s not answering me. She stood firm, her hands balling into fists. “You have to admit it’s weird. Finding the exact same beads twenty years later?”

  “Yeah, well there’s this thing called the internet, okay? You google ‘dolphin bead’ and you find ten thousand different kinds. And if they don’t have the right one, you go on eBay and Etsy.”

  Maybe he was right; she had googled “duck tea cosy” once and been amazed at all the different varieties. But … “But why would you do it?”

  Danny shook his head again. “Why?”

  “I mean, you wanted to forget Amy. Why would you—”

  “I never forgot Amy,” Danny said. “How could I? You know how much I loved our baby.” He stopped and swallowed, like he was trying to pull himself together. “I named my daughter Emily ’cause it sounded like Amy. And now she’s almost seven, and she reminds me so much of our girl … just before she died. Every time I look at Emily …” His voice caught. “I wanted to honor Amy’s memory somehow. So I got that old photograph of her wearing the necklace and I spent two months looking for beads that were just like it. And then I gave the necklace to Emily.”

  Susan thought, That’s gotta be bullshit.

  But then she looked at Danny, at the pain in his eyes, the mute appeal in his sad, drooping lips, and thought: Maybe the man I married, the father of my child, isn’t a rapist and killer after all.

  She felt a sudden warmth flooding through her.

  Maybe I don’t have to feel so guilty.

  But as much as she wanted to believe him … “Emily said you found it.”

  “Yeah, I told her that ’cause I didn’t want her to know she had a half-sister who got murdered. Don’t you think that’s too scary for a little kid?”

  Susan could imagine feeling the same way if she was Emily’s mom. “But why did you tell her you found it? Why not just say you made it for her as a gift?”

  “’Cause I didn’t want to have to answer a million questions about why I chose which beads.” He pulled his dark leather coat tighter against the wind. “Look, Susan, I’ll answer any questions you have, but honestly …” His mouth opened wide, then shut and opened again before he spoke, like he was struggling to form words. “How can you think I would … do all those horrible things to our daughter? That’s insane.”

  He’s right, Susan thought suddenly. I’m insane.

  I’m fucking insane. This whole thing is just …

  She needed to apologize to Danny for being such an idiot. She should reach into her pocket and give him that necklace right now.

  She said, “Danny …”

  He shook his head, exasperated. He clearly didn’t realize she was about to give in, and his jaw jutted out and his eyes hardened. “What?”

  She looked at his angry face and thought: But what if I’m not insane?

  “I need to go,” she said. She grabbed her suitcase and started off down the sidewalk.

  He followed her. “What are you gonna do with the necklace?”

  His voice had gotten cold and hard. Lunchtime must be over, because now the street was empty for two blocks in each direction. Susan got hit by a fresh wave of fear, her breathing turning fast and shallow. “I’m sorry, I really need to go.”

  He stayed right beside her. “You’re not gonna give it to the police, are you?”

  Was she right to be scared? “Please, quit following me.”

  “Stop being such a drama queen.”

  She sped up. “I’m not kidding. You better leave right now or I’ll scream.” But would anyone hear her? There was a bank on the far corner. She’d leave her suitcase behind and run toward there—

  Danny put up his hands. “Hey, I’m just trying to keep you from making a fool of yourself. That’s the whole reason I came out here.”

  Now Susan’s fear gave way to rage. He must think I’m stupid, telling me such a bald-faced lie. She stopped hurrying away and faced him dead on. “That’s total bullshit.”

  “What’s bullshit?”

  “You don’t give a fuck if I make a fool of myself. I don’t know the reason you came here, but that’s not it.”

  Danny blinked, and his eyes opened wide. “Susan … don’t you understand?” His lips trembled. “I never stopped caring about you.”

  A jolt of long-forgotten emotion rushed through her. She tried to shut it down, but he kept talking in that same gentle voice. “After everything we went through together, how could I not have feelings for you?” He touched his chest. “They’re still here.”

  Susan’s mouth opened. His eyes, his mouth, the lines on his face, they all looked hurt, and vulnerable. She so wanted to believe him.

  “You were right,” he said softly, “what you said to me in Tamarack. I need closure on Amy—and on you too. And I won’t get it sitting in my damn office.”

  This was what Susan had hoped for. She wanted to fall into his arms.

  “Susan, you were my first love. I’ve never felt about anybody the way I felt about you.”

  Her lips parted. She was breathing so deeply now it was making her shoulders heave. It was like something was melting inside her that had been frozen for twenty years.

  He put out his hand and touched her hair. It felt like he was touching her heart. “Susan,” he said, and then, tears in his eyes, he hugged her.

  She started to yield to him and return the hug.

  But then she remembered the necklace in that inside pocket. She went rigid. What if Danny feels it through my coat? He might take it! She held her body away from his and broke off the embrace.

  Up close, she saw his lips tighten with irritation and his eyes go half-shut. That look seemed familiar, and then she remembered where she’d seen it before. He would look that way when something at work had aggravated him, like when a sale fell through.

  That’s what’s going on in his head, Susan thought. I’m a sale that just fell through.

  Now he had a look of concern on his face as he asked, “Are you okay?”

  But she could see through it now. This whole “I never stopped caring about you” routine was bogus.

  Wasn’t it?

  And what about everything else he said?

  Is he really a killer?

  I need to find Agent Pappas.

  She said, “I’ll see you later.”

  Danny nodded, disappointed, and wiped his eyes. Then he looked down at her suitcase. “Is it my imagination, or did we buy that in Albany about twenty-five years ago?”

  Susan forced a smile. She didn’t want to antagonize him even more, though why she cared about that she didn’t know. “It’s lasted pretty well.”

  Danny smiled back. She watched him. Much as she wa
s desperate to leave, she was still having trouble breaking away. She wished she could rip open his heart and find out what was inside.

  He said, “Listen, before you go, how do I get on the list to view the execution? I just got in this morning, and I wasn’t sure who to call.”

  Why ask her this? Maybe he was still hoping she would promise not to go to the police and interfere with the execution.

  He was still selling.

  She didn’t want to argue anymore; she needed to get out of here already and escape his spell. So she just said, “You can call the prison’s public relations office. The woman’s name is Pam Arnold. She’s very”—Susan rolled her eyes—“enthusiastic.”

  Danny pointed toward Susan’s face and grinned. “I remember that look.”

  Again warmth flooded through her, taking her by surprise. That grin …

  Danny scoring the winning touchdown, then running up to the stands and giving her the game ball, flashing her that same grin with the whole school watching …

  It’s the moment they become an official couple.

  For the next nineteen years.

  “Sure you don’t want a ride?” he asked. “That’s my rental right there.” He took out his key fob and beeped a car parked nearby at the curb. It was a Chevy Malibu and reminded her of Danny’s parents’ Malibu. When she and Danny first went out, they spent a lot of time in the back seat of that car.

  Don’t think about that. Don’t get sidetracked.

  “I’m sure. But thanks for coming,” she said, and almost meant it for a moment.

  He put out his hand and touched her. Once again, she felt that jolt. “Susan, I have to tell you something. I didn’t come here only because I wanted closure.”

  She tensed. What was he about to confess to?

  “I’ve tried so hard to protect my family from all this,” Danny said. “I didn’t even tell my children where I was going this week. But if you go to the cops with this crazy thing, it’ll go public. Think what that’ll do to my kids. All their classmates and friends will start teasing them and whispering about them and making fun of them behind their backs. Emily’s life will be shattered. She’s a very sensitive girl.”

  Susan felt bad for a moment. But then she studied his eyes, the way they flickered and narrowed a little, and felt like there was something else going on behind there. She believed she finally understood why he had come to North Dakota.

  Danny wasn’t really afraid about how this would affect his family. Well, maybe he was. But mainly he was scared she’d hurt his reputation—and his real estate sales.

  Even if he was innocent, he’d be terrified of that.

  And if he’s guilty …

  She said, “Danny, I’ll for sure keep that in mind, okay? I promise.” She gave him a sweet-little-girl look with her face tilted down and her lips pouting slightly, and she instantly remembered this look as something she had used to defuse his anger back when they were married.

  A look of frustration crossed his face, and she sensed he was searching for one more way to sell her. But at last he gave her an accepting nod, as if he realized he’d gotten all he could right now. “Okay. Take care of yourself, Susan.”

  He got in his car and drove off with a wave. She waved back, her shoulders heaving with relief. Then she took out her phone and piece of paper and made a call.

  A man with a deep voice picked up on the other end after the first ring. “Hello?”

  Her breathing sped up. “Hi, is this Agent Pappas?”

  “Yes. Who’s calling, please?”

  “Susan Lentigo.”

  There was a brief pause, then Agent Pappas said, “Ms. Lentigo. Where are you?”

  “I’m in Hodge Hills. How about you?”

  “I’m here too. You want to get together?”

  She sure did.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  FRIDAY, DECEMBER 3, PRESENT DAY

  SUSAN WALKED INTO the bathroom of a Sunoco station, where she took off her baseball cap and took another shot at combing her knotted hair. She would have taken off her coat, sweater, and shirt and washed under her arms again, but she didn’t want to be late to meet Agent Pappas.

  She came out of the bathroom and headed for the motel five blocks away where Agent Pappas was staying. Actually, it was called a hotel—“Econo Lodge Hotel.” She had never understood the difference between hotels and motels.

  The Econo Lodge was pretty ugly, five stories of brown concrete with tiny windows. But there weren’t a lot of other places for people to stay in this town.

  As she rolled her suitcase up the driveway, she saw the front door open and a man come out. It was Agent Pappas. He gave her a wave hello and walked quickly toward her.

  His hair had turned gray and his hairline was receding, and as they got closer, she could see the age on his face. Like her, he wore glasses now. But he still had the same erect posture she remembered and the same softness in his eyes. Looking at him, she could almost feel the hugs he gave her in the courtroom twenty years ago.

  But they were on the same side then. How would he treat her now when she basically accused him of fucking up, like Kyra had put it?

  “Hi Susan, it’s great to see you,” he said.

  “It’s great to see you too, Agent Pappas.”

  They looked at each other. Susan felt like they were old warriors who had fought together in a long-ago war. She didn’t know whether to shake hands or hug, and it looked like he didn’t either. After a moment they shook hands. Maybe it was because Susan felt uncomfortable, knowing what lay ahead of them.

  “I’m just plain Robert now. Retired a year ago.”

  She didn’t want to let him know yet that she had already found this out, and she’d been thinking about him for two days. “Congratulations.”

  He gave a self-deprecatory smile. “Yeah, it’s a mixed blessing. Shall we have coffee in the hotel?”

  “Sure.” Despite everything else on her mind, she was hoping she’d get more than coffee out of this. A burger and Coke would go down real smooth right about now.

  Agent Pappas—Robert—took her suitcase and said, “Let me get that for you.” He carried it toward the hotel, didn’t even bother rolling it. In his sixties but still strong, she thought. Good—she needed that.

  “Where are you staying?” he asked.

  “I’ll figure that out later,” she said, not wanting to tell him she was dead broke.

  He turned somber. “I want you to know, I’ve never forgotten about your daughter. I think about her more than anyone else it’s ever been my honor to find justice for.”

  She hated what she was going to have to say to him in a little while. She felt ungrateful. “I truly appreciate that.”

  He held the door open and they headed inside. She could see the coffee shop on the other end of the lobby, could even smell the hamburgers cooking.

  “I live near my daughter and grandkids now. My wife died a couple years ago.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He nodded. “Anyway, they live out in the country near the Vermont border. It’s just a few miles up the river from where Amy was found.”

  Suddenly Susan saw a woman with curly hair at the concierge desk—Lisa. What if she turns around and sees me with the FBI agent who busted her brother? She’ll figure out who I am! “Oh God,” Susan said.

  Not hearing her, or not understanding her, Robert continued, “So every time I drive up there—”

  “We have to get out of here.”

  Susan turned and hurried back out the door. Robert followed, bewildered, carrying her suitcase.

  Once outside she walked fast, making it halfway to the street before she let Robert catch up to her. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “We can’t eat there.”

  His forehead crinkled with confusion, then cleared up as though he finally understood. “You’re concerned about the media, aren’t you? There’s definitely a lot of reporters staying there.”

  “It’s not t
hat,” Susan said, as they kept walking away from the hotel. “The woman at the desk, I met her on the bus. She’s Curt Jansen’s sister.”

  “Oh shit,” he said. “Pardon my language. That must have been unpleasant. How did she treat you?”

  “I didn’t tell her who I was.”

  She was embarrassed by her cowardice, but Robert nodded like she’d done the right thing. “Good thinking. I remember her. She was in total denial about her brother being a killer. Pretty standard reaction for families.”

  Susan took a deep breath. “Agent Pap—Robert—we need to talk.”

  “Sure, how about this pizza joint right here?”

  She let her dreams of a hamburger die. She wasn’t about to get picky right now. “Sure, that sounds great.”

  They walked in and ordered two pepperoni pizza slices apiece from a friendly young man in his early twenties. Robert offered to pay and Susan didn’t protest.

  “You here for the execution?” the young man asked.

  “Yes, we are,” Robert said.

  “Well, have a nice time.”

  “Thank you.”

  Susan and Robert carried their slices and diet Cokes to a booth in the back of the pizzeria. There were couples on either side of them. As they slid into their seats, Robert asked, “So what did you want to talk about?”

  How to begin? She looked into his brown eyes and asked, “Why did Amy’s murder stick with you all these years? Were you ever afraid that maybe we got it wrong?”

  He frowned, puzzled. “Got what wrong? Who killed your daughter?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No, of course not. But my two girls were about the same age as Amy. And seeing you in that courtroom every day …”

  Susan bit her lip. Here goes. “I’ve been wondering if Curt Jansen is really guilty.”

  Robert stared at her. “Susan, are you shitting me? Curt Jansen confessed.”

  “Could you tell me about the confession?”

  She sensed he was trying to be sympathetic, but he was pissed off. “What’s there to tell? You know what he said. You read the transcript.”