Kyle was convinced Yale was behind his friend’s death, even if Chuck Sewell hadn’t caught on yet. And Kyle was going to find the man and do what he had to do to get a confession out of him.
And then he’d turn him over to Sam.
She wanted her dealer. Kyle was convinced it had to be Yale.
Nothing else made sense.
He was going to do this for Bob. And for Viola. Bob’s widow was falling apart. Her husband of thirty years had died before she could tell him she still loved him. Before she could tell him she didn’t want the divorce. Before she could tell him that she’d stand by him, in sickness and in health, just as she’d promised to do.
Kyle couldn’t give her back the lost opportunities. But hopefully he could give her a measure of peace.
And he was doing it for him and Sam, too. Not only to clear his name once and for all, but to win back at least a small measure of her trust.
He also hoped it would give Sam some peace. Maybe she’d accept a two-bit distributor and give up her search for a full-scale lab.
He hoped so.
The timing worked—Yale’s release from prison coincided with the statistics Sam had spouted about the increase of drug arrests in Fort County.
He’d thought about contacting Sherry Mahon, too—even if he had to coerce information out of her. But considering Sam’s probable reaction to him and Sherry in the same space, breathing the same air, he quickly dismissed the idea.
By Thursday afternoon he hadn’t found Yale but he’d discovered the old storage building on Bob’s land where he’d been living. Until the past couple of days, judging by the date on the milk in the mini refrigerator. Obviously this was where the kid had holed up after he’d been caught in Viola’s purse.
The cot in the one-room building was unmade. Jeans and flannels were strewn around the floor. The seat on the toilet in the corner was up, the bowl unflushed. The door on the new-looking shower unit was hanging open, a towel flung over the top.
A used condom was in the trash.
Had Bob known Yale was still around?
Had he allowed the man access to this makeshift home?
Kyle chose not to tell Viola what he’d found just yet. Why hurt her with the knowledge that when she’d given Bob an ultimatum—Yale or her—he’d just moved Yale out of sight?
If he had.
With Bob gone, there was really no way for them ever to know for sure what he’d done.
His friend’s death had left a lot of questions.
Chandler, Ohio
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Some days were just not good days. Deb had looked like hell when she’d come in that morning and by four in the afternoon she’d given up pretending to do any work at all.
“Can I go, please?” The receptionist stood in my doorway, her eyes red rimmed as though she’d been crying.
“What’s wrong?”
“Would you believe a cold?”
“No.”
“Allergies, then.”
“No.”
She leaned against the doorjamb, head and all. “I’m afraid Cole’s having an affair,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion, her eyes full of pain.
Cole Brown, another bastard? I wrote on the sticky note in front of me.
“With who?”
“I don’t know. But last night, for the first time since we got married, he went down to the pub. He didn’t get home until five o’clock this morning. I know because I was still up. Sitting in the living room waiting for him.”
“Had you tried calling him?”
“Yeah, his cell phone was dead.”
“Off or out of charge?”
“I don’t know. He says out of charge.”
“The pub closes at two.”
“I know.”
“Did you ask him where he was after that?”
“Yeah. He says driving around.”
“For three hours?”
“That’s what I said. He swears that’s all he was doing.”
“But you don’t believe him.”
Raising her head, Deb looked at me. “Would you?”
“No.” I answered her honestly. Deb was a friend, not a client. Giving the benefit of the doubt wasn’t as easy.
“Did he give you any explanation for his unusual behavior?”
“Just that he’s trying to figure himself out.”
“Did he come up with any answers?”
“Apparently not. He just keeps saying he’s confused.”
“About you? Your relationship?”
“That’s part of it. Mostly it’s about him. About what he wants.”
The man was way too young for a midlife crisis. Maybe he was having an identity crisis.
Or maybe… I froze as another thought occurred to me. Lori Winston appeared to have been out all night when I’d seen her arguing with Chuck early Wednesday morning.
She and Cole had graduated high school together.
Could there be some connection between Deb’s unhappy husband and Maggie’s mother?
I didn’t want to think so.
And didn’t want to worry Deb until I knew more. I was starting to sound like Sam.
“So what does he want from you?”
“I know what he says he wants.”
“And that is?”
“For me to be patient with him. He says he loves me. And that he wants our marriage to work.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Try to be patient and believe in him.”
Probably the best choice. Just not one I would have made.
But then, my perceptions were a tad skewed at the moment when it came to anyone within Lori Winston’s sphere.
24
Sam put off the call to Kelly until she was through her shift, thinking maybe she’d just stop by Kelly’s office on her way out to Kyle’s. As anxious as she was to spend time with Kyle—and, let’s face it, stay on top of everything going on at Bob’s—the latest development in town was equally urgent.
She’d call Kyle. Tell him she’d be there, just later than she’d expected. First, she wanted to visit the holding cell where Glenna Reynolds waited to see the judge.
Chuck had arrested the girl—at Sam’s request. She’d taken a run out by Maggie and Lori Winston’s place, waiting until she’d seen Maggie inside the window of the trailer before she’d called Chuck. She wanted to make certain the girl was nowhere near her friend when the arrest was made.
Chuck picked the senior up at home, brought her in and booked her. She’d spend the night in a county cell by herself and then see the judge in the morning. She and Chuck had agreed that they wanted the girl charged as an adult.
Luring innocents like Nicole Hatch to an addictive, lethal drug was not something they could shrug off.
And then Chuck had gone to have dinner with his sister and her family.
Sam waited for him to leave, then headed to the jail. She wanted answers. Shane Hamacher might be able to get away with not knowing much. He’d been the last man on the totem pole and a year younger than Glenna. Glenna was the middle guy.
Sam wanted to know everything the girl knew before the system got hold of her, even if it meant breaking some rules. That’s why she’d left Chuck out of her plan.
Walking by a couple of deputies, waving to the dispatcher on duty, Sam let herself into the cell block, swiping her badge as she went.
Glenna Reynolds. Maggie’s friend. A babysitter with a sick mother. A straight-A student who’d cared about leaving pregnant Susan Abrams in the lurch.
Chuck had said the girl was in cell number three. He’d chosen it because it was off by itself, leaving Glenna relatively removed from anything else that might happen in the jail that night.
When Sam had asked, Chuck told her he’d caught Lori Winston sleeping in a doorway Wednesday morning. He’d ordered her to move on, and she’d taken exception to his disturbing her sleep.
Something else that made no sense. Why
would the woman be sleeping in a doorway when she had a perfectly good bed to go home to?
A daughter to go home to.
Listening for any sound coming from cell three, sobbing maybe, Sam approached. “Ms. Reynolds?” She spoke in the direction of the one-foot-by-one-foot barred opening at the top of the solid cell door.
No response.
With the key she’d brought, she unlocked the door. Pulled it open. And felt the blood drain from her face.
The plastic cording from around the mattress had been ripped away and was hanging from a fire sprinkler on the ceiling. The slender body of the sixteen-year-old senior hung suspended, the plastic cord around her neck.
“Call an ambulance!” Sam called to the guard down the hall. “Now!” Rushing forward, she grabbed the teenager’s legs, lifting the girl to relieve the pressure on her neck.
Please, God, let her live.
Sam repeated the words again. And again. Only those words. They were the single thought in her brain for minutes that seemed like hours until help arrived.
She’s just a child. Let her live. All idea of charging the juvenile as an adult fled as she gave every bit of energy over to keeping the young woman alive.
The only guard, an off-duty deputy, raced in with a chair. While Sam held Glenna’s feet, the man stood on the chair and freed the cord from the sprinkler.
But Sam already knew the girl was dead. The bodily waste that flowed upon death was all over Glenna’s jail-issue pants.
Chandler, Ohio
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Deb had been gone awhile but I wasn’t ready to face the long hours of quiet awaiting me at home. Deb was so confused, so scared, she didn’t know what to do with herself.
I didn’t know what to do with her, either. Except to help her draw on personal strength as she waited to see what the future would bring.
Considering how the day had gone, I wasn’t surprised when Sam showed up just after five. I was at my desk, supposedly going over files for the next morning’s appointments, but mostly just chewing on a pen and staring into space when I heard the bell chime out front.
I jumped up to see who was there.
The sleeves and front of Sam’s uniform shirt were stained. Tendrils of her long hair had worked out of her bun and were hanging half in her face and half down her back. Her shoulders were rounded in, as though she could no longer bear the weight of them.
“What happened?” I went to her immediately, an arm around her back as I ushered her to a seat in the reception area, then sat down next to her. I tried to ignore the putrid smell, even while I was trying to place it.
“I just…” Sam’s face turned white. “Do you have a restroom?”
“Yeah, first door on the right…”
My words followed Sam as she ran. She made it to the toilet, but didn’t get the door closed. I stood just outside and listened while the toughest woman I knew lost her cookies.
And then I went into action. Cool towel first, and then a warm one. The first I handed to Sam, who cleaned her mouth. The other I held as I wiped her face, her eyes, her neck.
Like a child, she stood there and let me tend to her. And that scared me.
I helped her out of her clothes and into sweat shorts and a T-shirt—an extra skating outfit I kept around just in case I had an hour to get away.
We went to my office and sat on the couch, the stench still with us.
And when Sam glanced up at me, I knew that she had information I absolutely did not want.
“What?” I asked.
“Glenna Reynolds.”
“Maggie’s friend?”
She nodded.
“What about her?”
“She was the girl who met Nicole Hatch at her locker.” Sam’s words registered. I heard them. I just didn’t know what they meant. “She’s the one who set up the deal between Shane and Nicole.”
“Who are Shane and Nicole? What deal?”
“The meth bust I made at the high school a few weeks ago. Shane was the seller. He’s the one in Maggie’s tennis club.”
Right. I knew all about that. Fine. And the girl. Glenna. Maggie’s friend, her mentor, was older. Into things that weren’t good for Maggie. We could fix that.
“Shane’s the one who said he got his drugs from a dealer in Indiana.”
I knew what Sam was telling me. That she thought Maggie was like these other two. Into drugs.
“Maggie Winston would never be involved with illegal drug distribution,” I said aloud. “Especially among kids. If you could hear her talk about sick kids her age whose parents can’t afford treatment for them, about the pain and suffering. And she lectures her mother about her cigarette smoking…”
“We can’t ignore what we know.”
“Maggie is adamantly opposed to substance abuse. She just wouldn’t do this. You’re making her guilty by association.”
I got the picture. I just didn’t want to look at it. That was my prerogative.
Sam sat there trembling on my couch. Why was this one arrest tearing her apart?
“Sam? What’s really going on?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “She’s dead, Kel. Glenna’s dead.”
“What?” I tried to focus. To think. An overdose? “What happened?”
That would make two dead in Chandler in less than a week and—
“Suicide.” Sam swallowed. “She hung herself. In her cell. I…”
And that’s when I knew that Sam had been the one to find her. I knew where the terrible stink was coming from. I knew what the stains on her uniform meant.
And I knew that as soon as I got my friend settled, I had to get to Maggie.
It had been a long couple of days. A long week.
Kyle had been home less than half an hour when he heard a car in the drive. Zodiac, at his side, he went out to shoo away whoever had come.
He couldn’t be sociable.
Not tonight.
He didn’t recognize the car and thought for a second that they were coming to pick him up. That Sam had finally convinced someone to issue a warrant for his arrest.
Bob’s death had cut her deeply—because she knew the man, but also because they’d lost one of Chandler’s most respected citizens to the meth war she was waging single-handedly. She’d taken responsibility for his death. As though she’d injected the farmer herself.
Not that she’d admit that to Kyle. Or anyone. Probably not even herself.
But you couldn’t know a woman, love a woman, for more than half her life and not figure out some things.
A blue Dodge Nitro pulled up to his side door. Kyle knew the driver. He’d graduated from high school with her.
But it wasn’t Kelly Chapman that held his attention. It was Sam, in the passenger seat, wearing a T-shirt. She stared straight ahead. Her hair was down—out of its bun.
Something Sam only did when she went to bed.
Kyle almost stopped breathing. The woman’s features said she was Sam. But this woman was broken, in shock.
Shit. What had happened? Who got to her? And what had they done?
Kelly Chapman climbed out of the driver side. Kyle knew the two women were friendly. But he couldn’t tell if Kelly was there professionally or otherwise.
“She wanted me to take her home,” Kelly said, as though Sam wasn’t sitting right there. “I didn’t think that was a good idea. I have to get back to town. To see…someone. I don’t want Sam to be alone, and I figured you were the best shot at getting her to agree to that.”
Arms crossed over her chest, Sam looked pissed. But it was the sense of loss in his longtime friend’s expression that catapulted him into action.
Opening her door, he almost choked on the stench. But he didn’t hesitate as he said, “Come on, Sam. Let Kelly get on her way and I’ll take you home.”
He wouldn’t. Sam probably knew that.
Zodiac pushed in beside Kyle, nudging Sam’s elbow, asking for her customary greeting of a rub.
Looking at the dog, and then up at Kyle, Sam got out of the car.
25
“Where are the drugs coming from, Kyle?” It was late and they were still at his place. She’d agreed to stay when he’d reminded her that if she didn’t, he’d have to leave Grandpa alone. “They’re taking over the county, just like I knew they would.”
She lay back in a corner of the couch, dressed in his robe. He’d told her, straight off, that she had to shower. She hadn’t argued but had refused his offer of help washing her hair.
She’d showered on her own with the door firmly shut but not locked.
He wouldn’t allow that and she’d agreed. Which made him feel a bit easier. When he’d heard the shower running he’d slipped inside the door for her dirty clothes and walked them straight to the washing machine. They were in the dryer now.
Kelly had disposed of Sam’s uniform.
“I told you, Kyle. I told you.” He’d tried to interest her in a beer, hoping it would make her sleepy. She’d wanted nothing but water.
Food hadn’t been an option. At least, not yet. Kyle wasn’t giving up.
“Told me what?” He sat in his dad’s chair and watched her.
“That they were going to kill people. I told you I had to find the superlab. I had to stop them or more people were going to die. And they’re just going to keep dying, Kyle, do you get that? People we know and care about.”
She sat up, holding the bottle of water as though she didn’t know what to do with it.
He’d never seen Sam so lost. Not ever. Not even the night he’d told her he was going to marry Amy Wilson.
“Two deaths in one week. Both meth related.”
He didn’t discount that.
“One was a child, Kyle. Sixteen years old.”
The bottle was on the table now. Sam fell back to the corner of the couch, resting her head but propped up so she could look straight at him.
“This is exactly what I’ve been trying so hard to prevent.”
He understood. And didn’t have any answers.
“I can’t let it continue, Kyle. I don’t care if everyone in the whole damn state thinks I’m nuts, I know I’m on to something and I can’t just let it go.”
The Second Lie Page 22