“Exactly. You’re jeopardizing your career for this guy.”
“I’m jeopardizing my career for a friend. It’s the least I can do,” I said and got out of the car.
I opened the door to the market finding it hard to believe that she’d really have seen him again and hoping I was about to disprove Dobbs’s alibi.
“Hi,” I said approaching the counter. “Remember me?”
She turned away and began wiping the counter under the Sno-Cone machine, smearing the sticky, red liquid into an even wider circle.
“I said do you remember me?”
“The lawyer,” she said, almost under her breath.
“Yeah.” I wasn’t sure how to explain what was going on and didn’t really want to so I just asked her straight out. “Was Dobbs with you two nights ago?”
The color drained from her face and she looked up at me. “I didn’t tell him anything, honest.”
“But he was with you?”
She nodded. “The police were here. Sergeant De, Del...”
“DeLonge?”
“Yeah.”
“What did you tell him?”
“The same thing. That J.D. was with me.”
“Would you swear to it, under oath?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you tell DeLonge that I’d talked to you before?”
She shook her head. Relieved, I started to leave then turned back on a hunch. “Did Dobbs tell you to lie and say he was with you?”
She started stacking Marlboros in an overhead rack. The look on her face told me she was scared shitless. “No,” she said. “It’s the truth.”
“Why should I believe you?”
She dropped her hands to the counter in front of her and looked me in the eye. “If I lie to you or the police, I could go to jail. If I lie to J.D., I just get beat up.”
I felt the tiniest bit sorry for her as I walked out of the store. I got into Nick’s car. “I’m fucked,” I said and slammed the door.
“She confirmed it?”
“To me and DeLonge. And she’ll swear to it.”
“So if Dobbs didn’t kill Wainwright, who did?”
“She’s lying,” I said. “No one else had reason to kill him.”
“Where to?” Nick asked, pulling onto Congress Street.
“I want to go see Hilary. Do you mind dropping me off at the hospital?”
“Not at all. I’ll go to the archives. See if there’s something I missed.”
“Will they let you?”
He pulled up to the curb in front of Maine Medical. “I’ve still got some friends on the force and a few favors I can call in.”
I leaned across the seat and kissed him. “I’m sorry you think I’m unethical, but I’m doing what I have to.”
“I think some of the shit you’re pulling is unethical. I don’t think you’re an unethical person in general.”
“That’s splitting hairs.”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“There’s nothing I won’t do for Hilary.”
“Then I guess I’m glad I’m on your side.”
I stepped onto the sidewalk, closed the door and watched him until he was out of sight.
“She signed herself out this morning,” the nurse at the desk said. “We tried to persuade her to stay, but she was dead set on leaving. It’s a voluntary unit.”
I went to the lobby and called Amelia. She was out front in ten minutes. “Where do you think she’d go?”
“Home or the garage. Those are the only two places she has.”
We pulled onto Route 295 and headed for Millers Falls. At exit 20 we took the ramp onto Route 136. There’s not much in downtown Millers Falls, so Wainwright’s garage stood out as the center of attention. It was draped with yellow police tape, and for a second the image of the railcar came to mind. I pushed it away.
“Drive to her house,” I said to Amelia.
We pulled up in front of Duane’s doublewide. Hilary’s pockmarked Nissan was parked in the driveway. We got out of the car and hesitated, both of us knowing what we were about to find.
Amelia held back the rusty screen and I pulled the aluminum door toward us. We stepped inside. Thin rays of sun slid between the wooden slats covering the windows and we squinted, adjusting our eyes to the dim light. The place was as filthy as always. Whiskey bottles lined the cracked linoleum counter in the kitchen. Crushed Budweiser cans lay in the corner, scattered around a trash barrel overflowing with take-out containers. I could hear the television in the next room and followed Amelia toward the sound. Hilary was on the couch, asleep or passed out, a bottle of hundred-proof still clutched in her hand.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Very few people lined the graveside at Duane Wainwright’s burial service. Since there’s no cemetery in Millers Falls, Duane was buried in the Edgewater cemetery amidst the bankers and lawyers and doctors. Death has a way of erasing one’s social status. Nick and I were there and Amelia and her parents, which elevated them a few notches in my book. My mother had refused my invitation, saying that Wainwright didn’t deserve to be remembered. I wanted to say something about people who live in glass houses, but held my tongue. And then there was Hilary, swaying and smelling like she’d showered in booze.
Afterward, Amelia’s parents excused themselves and the rest of us drove back to Portland to The Mug and Muffin, primarily to get something other than alcohol into Hilary’s stomach. Halfway through a plate of scrambled eggs, she asked me to go to the ladies room with her. I thought she wanted me to hold her hair back while she tossed her food, but she surprised me. Before we got to the bathroom, she pulled me out the side door of the restaurant.
“Take me back,” she said.
“To the hospital?”
“Yeah, now, and quick before I change my mind.”
“What about...”
“They won’t even know we’re gone. It’s only up the street.”
I didn’t want to screw things up by going back in to tell Nick, so I took Hilary by the hand and we hurried to my car. I kept waiting for her to change her mind, but she didn’t say another word until we were on our way to the sixth floor of Maine Medical Center.
“There’s one catch,” she said as the elevator doors opened.
I looked at her and laughed.
“You knew there would be, right?”
“What is it?”
“I want the fucker that killed him. Duane sucked so I’m not asking because of all the love between us, but I want to know who and why. Do you still think that Dobbs guy is connected?”
I bit my lip and hesitated, wondering if it was time for the truth. She looked so fragile. I shook my head. “I’m not sure.”
“Will you find out? Will you do that for me?”
“Why don’t you get yourself sober and help me?”
Her face crumpled and she covered it with her hands.
I pulled her against me and we stood in the hallway hanging onto each other like we had a million times before. “I’ll get him,” I said, tipping her face up so I could see her eyes. “I promise.”
“And I’ll get better and help you.”
With a final squeeze to solidify our promises, we let go. She turned toward the nurses’ desk and I stepped back into the elevator, watching her until the doors closed.
My phone rang just as I was getting into my car.
“Where are you?” Amelia asked.
“Hilary wanted to go to the hospital. So I took her. I’m on my way back now.”
“Why’d she go in?”
“I didn’t ask questions. I just did what she said.”
“Nick left, he said he’d call you later. What’s going on with you two? I get the feeling it’s not just work.”
“You’ve got great intuition when it comes to sex.”
“Really? You are? He’s hot.”
“I’m pulling up out front. Let’s go.”
Amelia came out of the front door and slipped into the passenger seat. “So when did it start between you two?” she asked.
“About eighteen years ago,” I said.
“When you were nine years old? And you think I’m promiscuous?”
“We weren’t doing it.”
“Likely story.”
I shook my head. “Only you would respond like that. I’ll tell you all about it later. Right now I’ve got an idea.”
I drove by the apartment belonging to Brittany, the 7-Eleven cashier. As hoped, Dobbs’s car was parked out front. While Amelia searched for a radio station, I took the ramp to route 295 north and Millers Falls.
“You leave something at the cemetery?” Amelia asked when she looked up and saw where we were headed.
“We’re going to Dobbs’s house.”
“We’re what?”
“I promised Hilary. Dobbs and Duane robbed The Cave together. Maybe there’s something in his house to prove it.”
“They already think you murdered Wainwright. Now you’re gonna break into Dobbs’s house. Are you out of your mind? Didn’t you hire Marquette for this stuff?”
“You don’t have to come.”
“Oh, I’m comin’ in all right.”
We parked on the other side of the street in the shadows of a maple tree. I turned off my cell phone, slipped it into my pocket and stuffed my purse under the seat. I didn’t want to tempt anyone to break into my car while I was breaking into Dobbs’s house. From the window on the driveway side, I could see the kitchen to my left and directly in front of me, the back of a green plaid couch. Too tattered and faded to call retro, I assumed it had once belonged to his mother. No sign of Dobbs. Hopefully he hadn’t just left his car at Brittany’s, but it didn’t make sense that he’d be here if his car was there.
We left the driveway and went to the back of the house. In rural Maine, neighbors are few and far between. The closest one to Dobbs’s house was a quarter mile down the road. A lone, weathered rocker sat on the tiny porch, its gray-blue paint crazed and cracked. Beyond the chair was a screen door, minus the screen. I put my hand on the railing. It swayed from left to right. The first step held my hundred and twenty pounds without creaking and I waved for Amelia to follow.
My knee grazed the rocking chair when I reached the landing and it rolled, wood against wood. If he was here, I was sure he’d come to the door to check on the sound. We flattened ourselves against the outside wall and waited. Nothing. No movement. I inched along the clapboards until reaching the window ledge. Looking directly into the living room from the kitchen, I could see the side of the television and a couch. The coffee table between them was laden with three empty beer bottles and a full ashtray.
I nodded to Amelia. “Let’s go.” I tried the door. It wasn’t locked.
Inside, the air was heavy with stale tobacco and I fought the urge to open a window. The house had that eerie feel of sitting empty for too long.
“Let’s be quick,” Amelia said, probably getting the same vibe as me.
The kitchen was littered with pizza boxes and empty beer bottles, most with cigarette butts floating in the piss at the bottom. We moved to the living room and I went to a desk in the corner, sliding open the drawers one at a time. Old address books and unpaid bills, receipts and photos all tossed together, a collage of his mother’s final days. It looked like nothing had been cleaned or removed since her death.
I started toward the stairs, but stopped when I noticed an old-fashioned answering machine sitting on top of a child’s school desk in the hallway, its red light flashing. Who would be calling Dobbs? I looked at Amelia.
“It’s not me,” she said reading my mind.
I hit Play and recognized Wainwright’s voice immediately.
“Stay the hell away from me. I know you were in the shop and don’t think I won’t call the cops. They got nothin’ on me now. I did my time. I told you, I ain’t got the money. I never did. You know who does. And stay the hell away from my daughter too. You touch her again and this time I’ll kill ya. I should have the last time.”
I looked at Amelia, both of our mouths hanging open. I hit Play again.
“He knew,” she whispered when it finished. “He knew Dobbs raped her and did nothing.”
“I wish he was still alive,” I said. “I’d kill him myself.”
“Take it,” Amelia said. “Hurry, take the tape and let’s get out of here.”
I grabbed the cassette and stuffed it into my pocket. We went out the back door and I pulled it tight behind me. We were across the street and back in my car before it occurred to me what the contents of the tape would do to Hilary. I turned to Amelia.
“We can’t let this come out.”
“What’re you talking about? It’s everything we need. We finally have proof for the police.”
“We can’t let Hilary know that all this time her father knew who raped her and did nothing.”
“Fuck.” Amelia leaned her head against the seat. “I didn’t think about that.”
“The rape was payback for Duane not giving him his share. Handing over Dobbs would have meant incriminating himself in the robbery.”
“But he paid for the crime anyway. It doesn’t make sense. He could have given them Dobbs in exchange for a reduced sentence and at the same time, gotten justice for Hilary.”
I shook my head. “I can’t answer that one. At least not yet.”
“Well, he’s dead. That should make her feel better.”
“I don’t think anything could make her feel better. How do you forgive a parent who lets their kid’s rapist walk away? She’ll never put the bottle down again and I couldn’t blame her.”
“Cecily, you can’t ignore this. Hilary’s a big girl. She’ll deal with it. You have to use this to clear yourself.”
“I know and I will, just not yet. Let’s think about it. Maybe there’s a way I can clear myself without Hilary finding out about the tape.”
“So what do we do?”
“Talk to Nick.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
At six o’clock Amelia and I were spooning fried rice, chicken, pea pods and egg fu young from their cardboard containers onto three dinner plates and fending off Stitch. “Perfect timing,” I said as Nick came through the door.
He uncorked a Chardonnay and filled three glasses.
“Find anything good in the archives?” I asked as he joined us at the table.
“Still don’t have anything that I didn’t already know.”
I glanced at Amelia. “Well, we do.”
He looked up and raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”
I slipped the cassette from my pocket and held it up. “I took this from the answering machine in Dobbs’s house.” I held my breath for the eruption.
“You what?”
He looked at me, beyond incredulous, beyond angry, pretty much beyond anything I’d seen from him, ever.
“Nick,” I said, raising my hands in an effort to calm him down. “Just listen to it.”
“Setting aside for a moment the fact that you’ve done irreparable damage to a court case by taking that tape from his house.” He motioned to the recorder on the table that I’d bought that afternoon. “Let’s hear it.”
I put the cassette in and pressed Play. We hovered over it and for one brief moment I felt like I was back in the railcar bending over the Ouija board waiting for it to d
eclare our future. This didn’t feel so very different from my family’s approach to everything. My grandmother had consulted with the spirit world for most of her life; my mother, with God. I had been drawn to the Ouija board and it had given me guidance, sometimes more than I wanted. Now we were hovered over a tape recorder waiting for it to reveal our next move.
When it finished playing we continued to stare at the machine, then slowly, each of us lifted our heads and looked at each other.
“You’ve got to give that to DeLonge,” Nick said. “It exonerates you.”
I glanced at Amelia. She looked at me, but gave no indication of whether or not she agreed.
“No way,” I said, absolutely sure of my decision. “First of all, it’s not going to hold up in court because I didn’t have a warrant when I went into Dobbs’s house. So it can’t be used to clear me.”
“But DeLonge will know you didn’t do it when he hears this. He’ll know he can’t go forward with the charges. I’m sure as a lawyer you can find a loophole around the warrant.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want this made public. Do you have any idea what it would do to Hilary if she found out her father knew who raped her and did nothing?”
“So you’re going to take the rap and Dobbs gets away with it?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Nick looked at me, tilting his head in question.
“He’ll pay, just not through the legal process.”
“Oh,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “And I can see the headlines now—Ex-Lawyer Turns Vigilante.”
I smiled at him. “And ex-cop helps.”
“This isn’t a joke. You’re playing with people’s lives, mostly your own.”
I stopped smiling. “Look, there has to be a way to get Dobbs without Hilary finding out that Duane knew.”
“Then start with the third person,” Nick said.
“What?”
“The other person Wainwright refers to on the tape. Start there.”
I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. I’d been so preoccupied with Duane’s comment regarding Hilary nothing else had registered. “Play it again,” I said.
Nick hit Rewind and then Play and this time I heard it, Duane’s four little words, you know who does. I looked up. “There was a third player in the robbery?”
In the Shadow of Revenge Page 18