“No.”
“—then you can get out of my car right now.”
Robbie held up his hands. “Calm down. I said, I’m not implying that.”
“It sure sounds like you are. We both know you want the chief’s job, Robbie. And we both know this little stunt is intended to blackmail me into helping you get it.”
“Blackmail? Never. I’m trying to help out an old friend. And just so you know, I’m not making this up, Jenny. I have pictures of the cap stuck on the fence where I found it. I can show you on my phone.”
“Maybe you planted it there before you took the pictures. Maybe you didn’t. Either way, it means nothing. Tim has a defense a mile wide, and besides, he has an alibi for the time when Kate went missing.”
He did, since Jenny would say he was with her, even though that was not true.
“I’m sure he has an alibi,” Robbie said. “But the last thing you want is for Tim to be put in the position of getting arrested and having to defend himself. That would be a nightmare for you and your family. It would be much better if this piece of evidence never sees the light of day. And for that, yes, you need my help. You need me to go against procedure and suppress evidence, which is not something I take lightly. I’d consider doing it for the good of this town, but then I would need you to put the town first as well, and move against Rizzo even if the timing doesn’t seem convenient right now.”
They were at an impasse. Jenny couldn’t predict what Robbie would do if she said no. She had no choice but to give him what he wanted, or else he could make big trouble for Tim. But Jenny would make damn sure that she and her family were fully protected in return.
“I want to be clear where you stand, Rob. You agree that Tim had nothing to do with Kate Eastman’s death,” Jenny said.
“Of course. No argument with that.”
“All right,” Jenny said with a sigh. “Here’s what I propose. I will do everything in my power starting first thing tomorrow morning to get Owen Rizzo fired and make you chief of police. I won’t stop till I succeed, even if it means getting the college involved to pressure the town council. But I want a few things in return. I want that hat back right now. I want the pictures of it deleted from your phone. And I want us to agree that we stop this witch hunt pronto. Kate Eastman killed herself, period. Griff Rothenberg needs to be released. Unless they find a murder weapon in Ethan Saxman’s car, which I highly doubt, we should leave him out of this, too, and not risk another failed investigation. Kate’s death was a suicide. The sooner we can get the ME to rule it one, the better for this town, and for everyone involved.”
“Agreed.”
“Good. Now, hand me your phone so I can delete those pictures.”
Robbie took out his phone and scrolled through his photos. He handed the phone to Jenny, and her heart sank. The hat, stuck on the dilapidated fence, looked so natural, and so incriminating. She could imagine exactly how the wind took it off Tim’s head and deposited it there. Pictures could be doctored, yes, but these looked genuine, and with a sick feeling in her stomach, Jenny faced the possibility that her husband had murdered her old friend. She deleted the photos, and gave the phone back. Then she took the plastic evidence envelope with the hat inside, and shoved it into her handbag.
“I hope this unfortunate piece of business won’t impact our friendship,” Robbie said, “since I plan on us working together for many years to come.”
“I’ll get over it. I appreciate you coming to me first, so that we could work out a satisfactory arrangement.”
“Friends?” he asked, extending his hand.
“Friends,” she said, shaking it.
“Have a good night,” Robbie said, and got out of the minivan.
Jenny watched him walk back to his car and drive away. Once he was gone, she took the sealed plastic evidence envelope from her handbag and, using the sharp tip of a pen, ripped it open savagely. She held the cap to her face, and breathed in her husband’s scent. Jenny had known Tim Healy her whole life. She’d been married to him for sixteen years. She knew that Tim had never been the same after suffering a head injury on that awful night. He was unpredictable at times, even angry, but she never would have thought him capable of hurting Kate. Jenny knew Tim’s face better than she knew her own. She knew when he’d had a tough day at work, when he was sad, when a migraine was coming on (he’d suffered from them ever since that night), and when he was feeling especially in love with her or the kids. She knew what he did all day, whom he saw, where he went—or so she thought. But people could fool you pretty easily, even people you loved. All they had to do was lie, or choose not to tell the whole truth. Jenny should know. She’d lied to Tim for years about Lucas’s death, though maybe what she’d learned tonight was that she hadn’t gotten away with it.
It was nearly nine by the time she got home. The kids were upstairs getting ready for bed. A scrawled note on the kitchen table in Tim’s messy handwriting said “pizza in oven.” Suddenly she was starving. She grabbed the foil-covered packet out of the oven with her bare hand, and stood at the stove, wolfing down a slice, as Tim walked in.
“Hey, babe,” he said. “How’d your meeting go?”
Jenny wiped her mouth with a napkin. For the first time since last Friday, Tim sounded relaxed, normal, like his old self. Things between them were just beginning to feel right again. Jenny didn’t want to risk that, and yet she couldn’t ignore the terrible suspicion in her heart. She had to know.
“My meeting was … strange,” she said.
“Strange, how?”
She walked over to the table, and pulled his cap out of her handbag.
“Robbie Womack gave me this. He found it at the old railroad bridge, stuck on the fence where the No Trespassing sign is.”
Jenny collapsed into the chair as if she’d used her last ounce of energy showing him the hat. Tim came and sat down across from her. He picked it up and looked at it like the hat was a puzzle he was trying to solve.
“What did Robbie say?” Tim asked finally.
“That he wouldn’t tell anyone. That he understood the cap being there didn’t mean anything.”
Tim nodded. “That’s good.”
She took his hand and looked into his eyes. “What does it mean, Tim?”
He took a deep breath. “I’ve been working up my courage to tell you this, but it’s hard.”
“Go on.”
“Last week, I ran into Aubrey at Shecky’s.”
“Aubrey?”
He nodded. “It was Lucas’s birthday that day. Aubrey walked in, we got to talking, and at one point she asked if I knew the truth about Lucas’s death. And then she told me. She told me the thing you’ve been keeping from me for twenty-two years, Jen. That Kate killed him, deliberately.”
Jenny looked down at the table. Tears gathered in her eyes. “It’s true,” she whispered. “I lied. I guess you know that now. I’m so, so sorry, Tim. And I want us to talk about that. But first I have to ask. What happened after Aubrey told you this?”
“Aubrey said that she could get Kate to apologize. I should meet them at the parking lot near the old railroad bridge. I thought finally, after all these years, Kate’s coming clean.”
That goddamned Aubrey. This was all her doing. Aubrey had been looking to get back at Kate and Jenny both. A wave of pity for her poor husband swept over Jenny. Tim was no match for Aubrey, or for any one of the three of them. Tim was an innocent compared to them, a lamb among wolves. She should have protected him better.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jenny said. “I would have said not to go. Aubrey can’t be trusted. She set you up.”
“No, Aubrey’s the one who told me the truth,” Tim said. “The only one who did. And she tried to arrange for me to hear it from Kate directly. You know how much that meant to me? I didn’t tell you because she asked me not to, and because I didn’t trust you not to interfere. I didn’t trust you, Jen. My own wife.”
“I understand,” Jenny said. “And
I deserve that. But in my defense, I was so young when this happened. They pressured me to lie. I should have told you the truth years ago, but I’d been lying for so long, I didn’t know how to stop. I was afraid of what it would do to our marriage. I wanted to protect you. Can you understand that?”
“I can try. You’re still my wife. I still love you. That hasn’t changed.”
Jenny nodded miserably, tears spilling from her eyes. “I love you, too. No matter what happened last Friday, I love you, Tim.”
And she did. She loved the things about him that any woman would love in a man. That he was strong and handsome. That he was a good father, and could fix anything—the house, their cars, her phone when it broke. That his eyes lit up when she walked into a room. That he’d been there for her when her father died. That he grilled a mean steak and did the dishes. All of it.
“I didn’t want it to happen,” Tim said. “I went to the parking lot like Aubrey said, and—”
“Stop,” she said, and put her fingers to Tim’s lips. “It’s better if I don’t know the details.”
“Let me talk. I don’t want secrets between us anymore.”
“All right, I understand. If that’s how you feel, go ahead.”
“Aubrey told me to park off the road, where nobody could see my truck, and to get into her car to wait for Kate. That seemed strange to me. I probably should’ve known then that something was fishy, but I was so focused on what Kate would say. When she showed up, she was shocked to see me. She thought she was meeting Aubrey alone, but Aubrey drove off and left us together. Kate didn’t want to talk. I kept pushing her toward the bridge because I wanted to confront her about Lucas. I was desperate to get the truth, and I got carried away, Jenny. I said things to Kate, terrible things. I made her jump,” he said, tears streaming down his face.
“Kate jumped?”
“Yes, of course. I would never—did you think I pushed her?”
“No, of course I didn’t think that,” Jenny assured him, but inside, she was deeply relieved, because she hadn’t been sure.
“So you told her to jump, and she just did it?” she asked.
“I told her I knew that she pushed Lucas off the bridge. She tried to make excuses, like she just got carried away. I wasn’t having that. I told her she was despicable, and a coward for not taking responsibility for her actions. Jenny, I said she deserved to die, and she should jump and do everybody a favor.”
“And then she did?”
“Not right that second. She was standing there staring at the water, and I walked away. But obviously she listened in the end.”
“So you didn’t see her jump?”
“No, but obviously she did it. It was my fault. If you’d been there, you’d understand. I talked her into it.”
“Tim, Kate’s been suicidal ever since I’ve known her. Her life was a mess. Divorce, an affair, she was broke. This wasn’t about you. It wasn’t even about Lucas. Kate killed herself for other reasons.”
“I read in the paper that she was pregnant. I never knew that. It’s eating me up inside.”
“How would you know? You couldn’t have known, babe.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“But it wasn’t your fault,” Jenny insisted. “You didn’t push her off the bridge. You didn’t even see her jump. You left her there alive. What she chose to do after that was her own decision. She could have stood there for another hour thinking about all sorts of things. For all we know, she could’ve fallen in by accident. You have to stop being so hard on yourself.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
He collapsed into her arms, and she held him, stroking his hair. They cried together for a while. Jenny cried for Kate, her dazzling friend, whose flaws were fatal in the end. But most of all she cried for Tim, her husband, whose act of bravery as a young man had left him damaged. Whether he caused Kate’s death or not, he would carry the guilt forever.
Jenny looked around her kitchen, that she loved so much, and into the den, where Tim had made a fire in the fireplace, as he often did on cold nights. Such a cozy scene, smelling of woodsmoke and pizza and home, with the sound of the kids’ footsteps on the ceiling above. Neither Jenny nor Tim could bring Kate back. There was no reason to tear down the life they’d built together because of guilt for something that wasn’t even clearly Tim’s fault. They had too much to lose, and nothing to gain. The best thing was to clean up the loose ends, and move on.
Jenny grabbed the cap, and walked over to the fireplace in the next room, where the embers burned low and red-hot. She moved the fireplace screen aside and laid the hat on top, jabbing it with the iron poker until it caught and flared up. Tim came to stand beside her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you loved that cap.”
He put his arm around her and held her tightly as they watched it burn. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “What matters is us. This family.”
When the hat was reduced to ashes, Tim carefully replaced the fireplace screen so embers wouldn’t singe the carpet. Jenny took his hand, and they walked up the stairs together to tell the kids it was time for bed.
35
Griff was released with no fanfare, in sharp contrast to the manner in which he’d been arrested. He signed a few forms. His clothing and wallet were returned to him, but not his phone, which had been sent off to some forensics lab for analysis and, now that his charges had been dropped, would supposedly be returned by mail. (The delay upset him; the phone contained all his recent pictures of Kate, and he wanted to be able to look at her.) A corrections officer flipped a switch, and the metal gate of the county jail opened with a harsh clang. Griff trudged out into the cold morning, where ugly snow flurries swirled under a glowering sky. The parking lot was nearly empty. There were no reporters, no TV trucks, no flashbulbs. The image of Griff being handcuffed while spread-eagled against a police cruiser had been beamed to screens around the world, but the press wasn’t interested in documenting his innocence.
He turned around and looked back at the jail, an ugly modern building made of brownish brick. What a relief to be out of that shithole. As Griff checked his wallet to see if he had enough cash for a taxi, a nondescript sedan pulled into the parking lot and rolled up to him. The driver leaned over to open the passenger door. He was pudgy and jovial-looking, with a scruffy beard.
“Mr. Rothenberg?”
“Yes?”
“Leonard Walters sent me. I’m your ride. Hop in.”
Griff thought twice about getting into the car with a stranger, but what the hell. It was cold out and warm inside, and if this guy turned out to be a serial killer, it wouldn’t much matter. Griff had nothing to lose anymore, and nothing to protect.
“Randall Falk,” the driver said, handing Griff a business card.
Griff glanced at it as he settled into the passenger seat. “You’re a private investigator.”
“Yessir. Local. Working on contract for Mr. Walters. I’m the one who worked on corroborating your story. Where can I take you?”
“I don’t know. Shouldn’t I talk to Walters? Why didn’t he come himself?”
“Oh, Mr. Walters is in Arizona by now. Big case. A mom shot and killed a chaperone at a school dance for saying her daughter’s outfit was slutty. It’s getting a lot of press.”
“I see.”
“No worries, though. The bill for his services was sent directly to your father-in-law. You’re free and clear.”
“Just like that?”
“Well, I’m not saying it wasn’t a shitload of work. I spent days tracking down leads to prove your wife was alive when you left her. I got the manager from the Pinetree Inn. People from the bar you went to that night. Your cabdriver. A next-door neighbor who’s an insomniac who saw you come home at three o’clock in the morning. The whole nine yards. Mr. Walters presented the evidence to the county attorney and the acting chief of police late yesterday, and that’s how come you’re out.”
“I see. Thank you.”
Griff gave the address to the house on Faculty Row, not because he wanted to go there, but because there was nowhere else to go.
“Wait a minute, you said acting chief of police?” Griff asked, as they headed for the highway.
“Yessir. Owen Rizzo was relieved of duty. The new guy is Robert Womack, been on the force here for some time. Unimaginative as heck, but a decent enough cop. I don’t expect you’ll be hearing from him though.”
“Why not?”
“Oh, they’ll focus on the doctor now. They’re done with you. You have Mr. Walters to thank for that. He made sure the case imploded in full view of the press. The cops couldn’t come back to you now if they wanted to. Not even if they found new evidence.”
Griff gave him a dubious look. “What type of new evidence are you talking about? You think I did it?”
“I can’t say with certainty what happened to your wife. I know she was alive when you left the Pinetree Inn, but based on the autopsy report, that was twelve to eighteen hours before she died. They’re focusing on this doctor fellow now, but your wife was seen alone at the courthouse after she left him at the Pinetree Inn on Friday morning. Where she went after that is anybody’s guess. Nobody’s paying me to look into it anymore, so it’s not my problem.”
It dawned on Griff that for the rest of his life, people would wonder if he had murdered his wife. At least, they would in Belle River. Outside the car window, the road was gray with grit and salt, and the trees that stretched to the horizon on either side were bare. Kate had hated it here, but Griff never had. He loved Carlisle too much to hate its hometown. But now all he wanted was to go far away, and never lay eyes on this place again.
“That’s not to suggest you did it,” Falk said. “I was not implying that.”
“Uh-huh. Thanks.”
It's Always the Husband Page 32