Yes, maybe. But he did respect her judgment, too, even if he hadn’t acted like it. She knew the two boys a hell of a lot better than he did. If he and Eve had no history, if she’d been just a social worker he was consulting, he would have paid attention to what her instincts told her. That was common sense.
Too bad he hadn’t given her as much credit as he would have if she were a woman he’d never met until he sat down to interview her. Instead, he’d not only questioned Eve’s judgment, he’d questioned her deepest values. Her character.
Because...why? He’d thought she might be a little too passionate in Joel’s defense, and of course that meant she was biased? Instead of taking a step back and thinking, huh, maybe she really believes in this kid because he’s everything she says he is.
She might be happiest never to hear from him again, but she deserved an apology and she’d get one.
He made himself let go of the wheel, rotated his shoulders a few times to lessen the tension, and finally started the engine.
* * *
I-5 NORTH FROM Everett was stop-and-go for miles, steady but still slow even north of Marysville. This was Friday afternoon. He should have started home half an hour sooner, Ben thought, disgruntled. Now he shared the freeway with commuters leaving work and everyone trying to get out of town for the weekend.
His mood was lousy to start with.
He’d cornered half a dozen of Gavin Shaffer’s former teachers and coaches. A couple of them seemed to genuinely remember Gavin as a smart, handsome, athletic and likable kid. A shining star. Their opinions had initially sowed some doubt in Ben’s mind.
Another couple barely remembered him at all.
Two of the teachers who’d known him best, though... If Gavin had been under arrest, if Ben had some physical evidence linking him to a crime, they might have been more willing to speak out. As it was, he could see them thinking about lawsuits and their desire to keep their jobs.
He had new respect for Coach Golzynski, who’d gone out on a limb, relatively speaking.
Today, he’d watched shifting expressions and known that those two former teachers had felt distinctly uneasy with this boy. They, the adults, the authority figures, had obviously walked softly around him. It was the same instinct that made humans afraid of snakes. When they looked into Gavin’s eyes, they didn’t see what they should be seeing.
That was the most honest anyone had been with him today: a Mrs. Wyman, who had had Gavin in sophomore English as well as Debate, had said, “He has a way of looking at you.” She’d shuddered, then tried to make her expression blank.
Mrs. Wyman had also stopped him after he checked out at the office and said in a very low voice, “You might want to talk to Rick De Luca. He taught Spanish and was the wrestling coach, but he quit last summer to start a business. He knew Gavin.” She’d slipped him a folded piece of notepaper, on which he’d found De Luca’s name and a phone number.
He tried the number before pulling out of the high school parking lot, but was thrown right to voice mail and chose not to leave a message. He’d try again later.
He might have gotten further talking to students, but hadn’t even tried; the administration would never have condoned that, given that he was basically on a fishing expedition. As it was, he wouldn’t be surprised to get a call from someone at the Everett PD.
The sum total of his afternoon’s work was a little more unease, but given the differences of opinion, nothing he could call fact. Since this wasn’t his weekend to have Rachel, he thought he’d go back to Everett tomorrow and hope to catch some of the Shaffers’ former neighbors at home. They’d have less reason to hold back. He’d have started with them, except few were likely to have been home on a workday afternoon.
He’d just exited the freeway and was driving eastbound toward Stimson when his phone rang. He glanced at the number. Seth.
As tired as he was, he hoped like hell he wasn’t being summoned to a gory crime scene. He answered anyway.
“Ah...don’t remember if I told you Bailey was coming to town this weekend,” Seth said. “She called from the airport to let me know she’s on her way north.”
“Don’t count on seeing her in the near future.”
“Slow going today?”
“It’s Friday. Uh, how long is she staying?”
“Only until Tuesday morning. It was my turn to fly down there, but I haven’t been able to get away for an entire weekend so she upped and bought a ticket.”
If Ben remembered right, Bailey’s last visit had been almost two months ago. The weekend I met Eve. That was a long time to not see the woman you loved.
“We thought maybe you and Eve could make it over either Saturday or Sunday night for dinner,” Seth continued.
“Check with Eve, but you’ll have to count me out.” It took everything he had to sound off-handed. Gee, no, can’t make it this weekend, sorry. Too bad Seth or Bailey hadn’t talked to Eve first. That would have saved Ben from this awkward conversation.
“Is there a problem?” Seth asked. “Is this about what I said?”
“No,” Ben said. “Talk to Eve.”
The slight pause told him the message had been received.
“All right, I’ll do that. I’m, uh, going to do my best not to come into work until Tuesday.”
“I can take anything new. I don’t have any plans.”
Seth thanked him and they signed off.
Ben sank back into brooding. Was there any chance Eve would be ready to hear an apology?
Why would she? He’d seen the stricken expression on her face. No, he had to get somewhere on his quest to prove he actually had listened to her before he tried to get through to her.
That had him frowning, remembering what Seth said. Be sure you’re thinking like a cop, not her boyfriend.
He finally was. Pranks aside, reason told him Gavin could far more easily than Joel have slipped out of his house Sunday night, committed a murder and sneaked back in. He could have stripped, maybe hosed himself off, right there. Remembering a hose coiled beside the back faucet of Rowe’s house, Ben made a mental note to ask the CSI crew if they’d fingerprinted it and the faucet handle as well as checked for blood. Gavin wouldn’t have wanted to use the hose at his own house, because water running in the pipes might have awakened Lynne or Rod. Same held true if the killer was someone else. Whoever he was, he’d have been most likely to leave a fingerprint when he was cleaning up.
After a day of unease, Ben...settled. He was using his head now. Doing the job he should have done in the first place, instead of leaping to the easy conclusion.
* * *
EVE SET DOWN the tortilla chip she’d been about to dip into spicy salsa when she saw her sister walk in the door of the restaurant. Smiling the moment her eyes met Eve’s, Bailey waved off the hostess and came straight to the booth. Eve slid out to give her a hug.
“I can’t believe Seth let you out of his sight so fast.”
Bailey laughed. “He wasn’t thrilled. I think he had in mind not getting out of bed today. I did promise to bring him food.”
“The way to a man’s heart.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s it,” Bailey said wickedly.
They both laughed. Eve hoped her sister couldn’t tell her own laugh was fake.
They ordered before Bailey looked across the table at her, her expression serious.
“I’m going to guess Ben isn’t just busy this weekend.”
“No. Our relationship was short-lived. I’m hoping that won’t make it awkward for you and Seth.”
Bailey shook her head. “Who cares if it does? Will you tell me what happened?”
Oh, God, did she want to? She was a little bit horrified to discover that she did. Why else would she have agreed to this lunch? She could have made an excuse, a
voided seeing Bailey until enough time had passed and this burning hurt in her chest had turned to cold ashes.
She picked up a tortilla chip again, using it as an excuse to avoid meeting Bailey’s eyes. “It started when he arrested one of my kids. I don’t know if Seth told you about that.”
“Joel something? A football player?”
“Right.” She summarized the sequence of events that led to her removing Joel from his former foster home. “I really believed that would be the end of it. Except then Mr. Rowe was murdered.”
“And Ben is primary on the investigation.”
“Unfortunately.” Eve grimaced. “Or maybe I should say fortunately. Our...conflict over Joel brought out some stuff that I’d have figured out eventually. Sooner is better than later.” She almost managed brisk.
“Some stuff.”
This was really hard to say. Eve had trouble swallowing the bite she’d put in her mouth.
“He...knew how I felt about you. I mean, before you actually showed up.”
Bailey nodded, the look in her eyes unnervingly similar to what Eve had seen in her father’s eyes at lunch yesterday.
“It always bothered me I didn’t look like Mom or Dad. That anybody could tell at a glance I was adopted.”
“You don’t buy the line about how being adopted means you were chosen, versus your parents getting stuck with whatever came out?”
Eve surprised herself with a giggle. “Whatever came out?”
“Yeah. I mean, who is to say Dad didn’t desperately want a son. A lot of men do. But what did he get? A little princess-wannabe girl.”
It wouldn’t have been so funny if either had thought for a minute Dad had been disappointed to have a daughter. Two daughters, as it turned out. As it was, Eve felt a whole lot better by the time she finished laughing.
Then Bailey’s amusement vanished. “What did he say?”
Eve knew exactly which he her sister was asking about. So she told her.
It seemed to take her a minute to absorb that. “What a creep.”
“I don’t know if he’s that. It’s more that...” She shrugged. “He seemed sympathetic. You know? But really, he couldn’t have liked me very much, not if he thought something like that. I misread him, big-time. So...eventually, I’ll be okay with running into him at your house, but not so much at the moment. As it is, I’ll likely still have to deal with him where Joel is concerned.” She frowned, thinking about it. “Or maybe not, now that Joel has an attorney. I probably need to back off, except for staying in touch with Joel to let him know I believe in him.”
Their entrées came, and while they ate Bailey asked more questions about Gavin and about what evidence Ben had.
“I’ve got to say, there seems to me to be plenty of room for reasonable doubt,” Bailey said finally. “You’re sure Ben hasn’t come up with more?”
Eve huffed. “Like he’d tell me. I don’t know. Laura Santos—she and her husband run the group home where I placed Joel after I moved him—says Ben came to talk to them again. I guess he’s been back to the original foster home, too. I called Rod yesterday. I could tell he didn’t want to talk to me. He was really twitchy.”
“It’s awful about that old man. I mean, being grumpy shouldn’t be a capital crime.”
“No.” Eve’s sinuses burned. Spicy food, she told herself. “Enough about me. Um...do Mom and Dad know you’re in town?”
Bailey wrinkled her nose. “Yes, although I didn’t call until this morning. Mom always gets so excited, and mostly this visit is about Seth. But she’d be hurt if she found out I’d been here and not called, so...” She gestured, losing a glob of sour cream from her fork. “Oops.” She used the napkin to swab it up. “We’re having dinner there tomorrow night. You’ll undoubtedly be getting an invitation.”
“I’m still mad at her for pushing me to drag Ben to dinner there.” She made a face. “Even though it’s mostly my fault for letting her push me.”
“She has it down to a fine art,” Bailey said sympathetically. “She must have honed her pressure tactics all those years when she was leaning on the cops to keep looking for me when they were more than ready to quit. And, hey! Why let your skills get rusty?”
This time Eve’s laugh was rueful but genuine. Bailey was right; home-baked cookies, sad eyes, pictures of her adorable little girl—those were only weapons. Eve admired her mother’s persistence and sheer determination. How could she not?
“I get along better with Dad,” she admitted.
“Me, too.” For a moment, Bailey appeared reflective. “He doesn’t try to make things happen or to change people. Mom... I don’t know, I suspect she’s more of a dreamer. She sees us through rose-colored glasses.”
Eve nodded. “I think you’re right. Maybe it’s because that one awful thing happened, and she’s tried ever since to be positive.”
“Or she might have been born an optimist.”
They looked at each other. Eve’s mouth curved. “And what does she have for daughters? The two of us.”
They laughed again.
She had the sudden, disconcerting thought that she hadn’t felt even the slightest hesitation at saying that. She, too, was her parents’ daughter, every bit as real as Bailey, who had once been Hope. And Bailey said Mom and Dad so easily these days.
Impulsively, Eve reached across the table and squeezed Bailey’s hand. “I can hardly wait until you’re back to stay after you graduate.”
For just an instant, Bailey’s expression was unguarded. Then she bit her lip and squeezed back. “Me, too,” she said simply.
* * *
THE ELDERLY LADY in dainty gardening gloves and a wide-brimmed hat tied beneath her chin said, “May I see your badge again?”
“Of course.” Ben unclipped it from his belt and handed it over.
She scrutinized it while saying fretfully, “I wish I had my reading glasses.”
He hadn’t gotten to the Shaffers’ old neighborhood as early in the day as he’d intended, because he’d made the decision to track down Rick De Luca first. De Luca, who now sold supplies to eager amateur home brewers, had been blunt enough to turn Ben’s uneasiness into outright alarm.
But he still needed more ammunition before he openly questioned the kid. The houses here were modest, aging clapboard homes on small lots. Probably some renters, some new homeowners, and some old-timers like Mrs. Finster. On a Saturday morning, several of the near neighbors were out working in their yards. A guy a couple yards down was using a gas-powered rototiller to prepare what was presumably a plot to grow vegetables.
Not wanting to give any reason for her to feel threatened, he stayed on the sidewalk side of the white picket fence. He’d gone to her first, because she lived right next door to the house where Gavin and his mother had lived until Lynne married Rod Carter.
“I’ll be glad to wait while you go get your glasses,” he said patiently. “But I promise you my badge is the real thing.”
Her gaze was unexpectedly shrewd. “I’m sure it is. Now, what is it you want to know, Detective?”
“How long have you lived here, Mrs. Finster?”
“Near fifty years. I’m widowed now, but my husband and I bought this house not long after we got married.”
“Did you know Mrs. Shaffer and her son when they lived next door to you?” he asked.
Evelyn Finster looked at him as if he was crazy. “Of course I did. They moved in after her divorce. That boy was nine or ten then.”
“Were they good neighbors?”
“Well, she was all right, except for being sure her nasty little boy walked on water. I was relieved when they moved, to tell you the truth.”
His hunting instincts came to attention. His easy tone was pure front now. “And why was that, Mrs. Finster?”
She s
niffed. “We had a whole lot of unpleasant incidents in this neighborhood while that boy lived here. Not a one since he left.”
“For example?”
“Mr. Tran down the street caught Gavin keying his car. I believe that’s what it’s called.”
“It is.”
“He spoke to Mrs. Shaffer, and the next thing he knew someone smashed all the glass in the small greenhouse he had in his backyard. Since I saw Gavin running away myself, I called the police and spoke to his mother.” Her face tightened and her voice acquired a tremor. “I had an elderly cat. I found her decapitated on my front doormat the next morning. I knew who had done it.”
The back of his neck prickled. Jesus. The kid had been practicing his cruelty all along.
“I’m very sorry,” he said, and meant it.
“I’m not the only one in this neighborhood who breathed a sigh of relief when that U-Haul truck pulled out,” she told him. “My cat wasn’t the first pet tortured or killed around here. Nobody could ever prove he did it, but I knew.”
How young had the little creep been the first time he killed an animal for fun? Ben wondered.
“That wasn’t all he did,” Mrs. Finster continued. “He found a way of paying anyone back for getting in his way. He and several friends threw eggs at the Bakers’ house over there on the corner.” She pointed. “They made such a mess, poor Mr. Baker ended up having to repaint. Only a few weeks before, his daughter had broken up with Gavin, you see.”
Oh, yeah, Ben saw.
“Was that the end of it?”
“Unfortunately. I urged him to call the police, too, but he said how could he prove Gavin was behind it, and what good would that do anyway? It was true, every time they came out, officers would nod but they never actually charged him.” She fixed a firm gaze on Ben. “What’s that boy been up to now?”
He smiled at her. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, but I will say I’m not surprised by anything you’ve said.”
“Are you going to allow him to keep getting away with murder?” she demanded.
In Hope's Shadow Page 18