Nine Years Gone

by Chris Culver

  “Of course not.”

  “Good. She’d only use it to hurt herself.”

  I had been around enough addicts to understand that intimately. I looked at my hands so I wouldn’t have to look her in the eye. “I came because we needed to talk. I heard you and Isaac Cohen were dating.”

  “Is that a problem?” she asked.

  “Not at all. I was glad when I heard it, but I’ve got some bad news.”

  “Oh?” Samantha asked, her back straight.

  I tried to tell her what happened, but the words caught in my throat.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Isaac died in his shop yesterday.”

  At first, she furrowed her brow, almost confused, but as she comprehended what I said, a deep crimson spread from her face to her throat and her shoulders slumped. Her lips moved without sound coming out. I crossed the room and got a tissue from a receptacle near the door.

  “What happened?” she finally asked.

  “Do you remember Moses Tarawally?” I asked, handing her the tissue. She twisted it around her fingers but made no move to wipe away the tears she was clearly trying to hold back. “He worked for Dominique.”

  “I remember Moses.”

  “The police think he shot Isaac.”

  She shook her head and furrowed her brow. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would he kill Isaac? Why would he even know Isaac?”

  “That’s the second thing I thought we could talk about. Have you talked to your sister lately?”

  It didn’t last long, but for a split second, Samantha froze, even her breath, and I knew she was going to lie to me. “My sister’s dead.”

  “I spent the morning with her near the art museum. If she’s talking to me, I know she’s talking to you.”

  Samantha blinked, twisting the tissue around her fingers.

  “How long have you been in touch with her?” I asked.

  She waited at least a minute to speak. “A couple of weeks. She called, and then she came to the house while Mom was out of town.”

  “Before Dominique’s execution.”

  “Yeah,” she said, her voice so soft I could barely hear it over the ambient room noise. “I thought she came back to stop it.”

  “But she didn’t go to the police.”

  She paused and then looked directly in my eyes. “I tried to convince her to turn herself in, but she wouldn’t.”

  “She had good reason to want Dominique dead. I wanted to kill him, too.”

  Samantha looked at the floor. “Why did Moses kill Isaac?”

  “Because your sister told him to. She thinks we ruined her life, and she’s returning the favor.”

  A tear fell down her face, the first I had seen. My instinct was to wipe it away, but I held back. She said, “Isaac brought me here. He thought I’d need help after Dominique’s execution. He thought it’d bring up too many bad memories. And he was right. I’d probably be passed out somewhere right now if I weren’t in here.”

  “Isaac was a good man and a good friend.”

  “And he died for nothing,” said Samantha, wiping the tear away. “Is Tess with Moses now? Like you were with Tess?”

  “I don’t know. I think she’s using him, just like she used everybody.”

  “Don’t talk about her like that. She isn’t a monster.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “She’s done some things.”

  “We’ve all done some things that we aren’t proud of,” said Samantha, sharply.

  “A lot of people around Tess get hurt. Some of them may deserve it, but not all of them. Not Isaac, at any rate. When did you talk to her last?”

  “A couple of days ago. She was going to see you. I warned her that you married Katherine, so she wouldn’t be upset when she found out, but she already knew. I don’t think she cared. She just wanted to see you.”

  So she knew all along that I was married to Katherine. It truly was a set-up from the start. “Did she give you any way to get in touch with her?”

  “Just a cell phone number,” said Sam. “I don’t remember it off the top of my head.”

  “It’s probably the same one I have,” I said. “When you talked to her, did she seem like herself?”

  Samantha hesitated. “She was a little distant, but I expected that; she’s been gone long enough. Underneath it all, though, I could tell she was the same person.”

  Exactly what I was afraid of.

  “Be careful around her. I know she’s your sister, but she’s not right.”

  Sam looked at the floor and then me. “Thanks for coming by, but I need to be alone.”

  “Do you want me to see if I can find your doctor or a nurse?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. I just want to be alone.”

  “Of course,” I said, standing up. “Before I go, I need you to do me a favor.”

  “I don’t know what I can do.”

  “You can do this,” I said. “I know you can. When you have the strength, I need you to call your sister and try to convince her to stop what she’s doing before she does something she’ll regret. If you can’t, I need you to leave town. If she knows we met, she might try to hurt you too.”

  “She wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “Just remember what I said and take care of yourself.”

  She nodded. I walked into the hallway, shutting the door behind me and listening as Samantha sobbed. As much as I wished otherwise, I couldn’t help but feel that there’d be a lot more tears before this was done.

  35

  As I walked toward the parking lot, I took out my cell phone and tapped out a single-word message to Vince.

  Yates?

  Realistically, I shouldn’t have expected anything, but I kept my phone out anyway and watched as the seconds passed, hoping Vince would call me back right away. Of course, it was the middle of the afternoon, and Vince was a well-paid professional. Likely, he was interviewing witnesses or beating the bushes for leads, or watching over my wife and niece, doing the work I’d hired him for. Once I reached my car, I slipped my phone in my pocket and drove off, arriving in Old Webster an hour later.

  Rather than park straightaway, I pulled around the block near my office twice, looking for Tess’s white Nissan or anything else out of place. Minivans surrounded Bristol Elementary School, and children scampered from its slide to the merry-go-round to the swings on its playground. Even with my windows closed, their high, shrill shouts and laughter carried into my car. That sort of noise used to grate on me, but now I found it strangely calming, a reminder that for most people the world was still as it should be. In an ideal world, Ashley would be out there with them. Or if not on that particular playground, at least she’d be on a playground somewhere with people who made her feel safe. She deserved that. Every kid does.

  When I couldn’t find anything out of place in the neighborhood, I parked in the lot behind my building and went inside. I wrote emails to my editor about an upcoming book signing at a library in Indianapolis and tried to get in touch with Katherine, but her phone went to voicemail. I left her a message to tell her that I loved her and to ask her to give Ashley a hug for me. Vince called me back at a little after five. Before I could even say anything, he sighed.

  “I looked up Brandon Yates this morning. He’s dead.”

  I felt my shoulders slump. “How?”

  “Shot in the head.”

  “Was it Tess?”

  “Nah,” said Vince. “Seems he found religion after college. He changed his name, married a girl from Salt Lake City, and became a minister in Atlanta. That’s why I couldn’t find him earlier.”

  “What happened?”

  “Mugger shot him after he took his kids to a Braves game. Yates gave up his wallet, his keys, his watch and everything else he had on him, but he tried talking to his mugger, you know, doing ministerial work. Guy shot him in the head in front of his kids.”

  “They catch the shooter?” I asked.

  “Yeah,”
said Vince. “Turned himself in. Apparently, he felt guilty for shooting the good minister. Mugger was a strung-out meth user who said his finger got twitchy when Yates started talking about Jesus. It was a tragedy all the way around.”

  I leaned back. “Did you talk to his family? His dad had to know something about Holly or he wouldn’t have pressured the police to close the case. Or maybe he talked to his wife or another minister. Maybe he felt the need to confess.”

  “Even if he did talk to his wife or another minister about Holly, it wouldn’t be admissible in court. It’s all privileged information.”

  “I’m not interested in getting information into court. I’m interested in shutting Tess down. If we get somebody to talk, maybe that’d be enough to scare her off.”

  “I’m not going to ask a grieving widow if her husband ever murdered somebody, so just stop right there.”

  “Sorry,” I said, grimacing and thinking better of my suggestion. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “Don’t worry about it. What do you want to do?”

  “At this point, we don’t have much that links Holly and Tess.”

  “They were roommates,” said Vince. “I’m sure we can find records to prove that.”

  I leaned forward. “But nothing we can act on right away. That doesn’t leave us with a lot of options.”

  “You can still run.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “I met with Tess this morning. You haven’t seen her. Wherever I go, she’s going to follow.”

  Vince cleared his throat. “She killed Isaac, or at least participated in it. Police might be able to catch her on that.”

  “If Captain Morgan couldn’t break me in an interrogating room, there’s no way he’ll break Moses or her.”

  “Then what do you want to do?”

  “I’m thinking about doing something stupid.”

  “Good for you, thinking about it first,” said Vince. “Usually, when you think about doing something stupid, you just do it without telling anyone.”

  “Right now, Tess thinks she can do whatever she wants because everyone else thinks she’s dead. That’s her leverage. I’m going to bring her into the open.”

  “And how are you going to do that?”

  “Let me worry about it,” I said. “I need you to go to Chicago with Katherine. Do you have her phone number?”

  “Katherine and I have already talked. We’re driving to Chicago right now. She and Ashley are in the car ahead of me.”

  “That’s one less thing to worry about. Thank you,” I said, breathing a sigh of relief. “If you need money, let me know.”

  Vince sighed. “I suppose it’s too much for me to warn you to keep your head low.”

  “This isn’t the time to stick my head in the sand.”

  “Just try not to get shot.”

  “Thanks.”

  I hung up and flipped through my recent call list until I came to a call from Captain Morgan. Hopefully this was a good idea.

  36

  Captain Morgan didn’t want to talk to me, but he agreed to come over when I said I had information about Isaac Cohen’s murder. After Morgan, I called Andrew Kimble, an old fraternity brother of mine who now worked in the prosecutor’s office. He was at his son’s soccer game, but he agreed to come to my office as soon as he could afterward.

  Captain Morgan arrived first. He wore a wrinkled white shirt and he had at least a day’s worth of growth on his chin. I try not to judge people based on physical appearances, but he had looked better. Of course, the same could probably be said of me. I walked to my coffee maker and grabbed the carafe.

  “You want decaf or regular?” I asked.

  “I want to know why you called me here.”

  “And I’ll tell you as soon as Andrew Kimble arrives.”

  Morgan sat on the armrest of my couch and crossed his arms, staring at me. “Andrew Kimble, as in the prosecutor?”

  “Yeah. I thought he should be here for what I have to say.”

  “All right, then,” said Morgan. “Regular.”

  “Good,” I said, going to my supply closet for the coffee and a new filter. “That’s all I’ve got.”

  “Got any of that Italian roast you liked so much?”

  It took me a moment to remember our conversation at the coffee shop downtown. “Fresh out. Sorry.”

  “You going to waste my time here like you did downtown?”

  “I guarantee that I’m not going to waste your time. In fact, you do your job right tonight, you’ll be a hero by tomorrow morning.”

  Morgan smirked. “Oh, what a truly happy day that will be.”

  I put on the coffee and cleaned a couple of mugs. The door opened again before I finished.

  “Steve?” called Andrew. “I came as quickly as I could.”

  I poked my head out of the restroom as I dried a mug. “We’re upstairs.”

  Andrew vaulted up the stairs, a concerned look on his face. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be over as soon as he could; he still wore a red coach’s jersey from his kid’s team, black nylon shorts, and cleats. As soon as he saw Morgan, a puzzled look crossed his face and he stopped moving.

  “Captain,” he said, nodding at Morgan.

  “Counselor,” said Morgan, returning the greeting. He looked at me. “Where’s that coffee, Hale?”

  I poured him a cup and handed it to him. “Sorry I’m not a more efficient host.” I looked at Andrew. “You want a cup of coffee? It’s regular.”

  “No. I want to know why I’m here with the Captain of the Major Case Squad.”

  I went back to the coffee maker, poured myself a cup, and then walked to my desk. Andrew sat down on the couch and crossed his arms.

  “What was so important you had to call me from my kid’s soccer game?”

  I looked at Andrew and then to Morgan. “First of all, let me apologize for ruining both of your evenings. I know you have better things to do.”

  “Get on with it, Hale,” said Morgan.

  “Well, I guess I’ll just come right out with it. Tess Girard is alive and well, and she’s in St. Louis right now. Dominique did not murder her. Hell, he didn’t even kidnap her. The state executed an innocent man.”

  Neither police officer nor prosecutor responded for at least thirty seconds, but then they spoke at the same time. Morgan gestured for Andrew to go first.

  “Shut up and stop talking right now,” he said, glancing at Captain Morgan. “From this moment on, I am acting as Mr. Hale’s attorney until such time as he can secure more appropriate counsel.”

  “I called because you’re a fair prosecutor, not because I needed an attorney.”

  Andrew shook his head. “I’ve already recused myself from any investigation or prosecution you might be involved in. I can’t touch this case as a prosecutor, but I can tell you that you need a lawyer right now.”

  “How do you know Ms. Girard is still alive?” asked Morgan, ignoring Andrew.

  “Please stop asking my client questions,” said Andrew, standing so that he acted as a physical barrier between Morgan and me. “He and I need to talk. Unless he’s under arrest, you need to leave.”

  “Thank you, but I need to do this,” I said, looking at Andrew. I stepped around him and looked at Captain Morgan. “She’s alive. You have to trust me.”

  “How do you know?” asked Morgan.

  “I invoke my Fifth Amendment Right against self incrimination.”

  Morgan snorted and then leaned forward to stand up. He looked at Andrew. “Once you two work out this little spat, give me a call. Otherwise don’t waste my time again.”

  “She’s staying at the Omni hotel downtown under the name Lauren Hampton. It’s her grandmother’s last name.” Morgan stopped walking. I took that as a sign that I should keep talking. “When we spoke last night, you asked why I had an interest in Holly Olson. This is it. Tess and a man named Brandon Yates killed her.”

  Morgan put his hands in his pockets and leaned back
. “So, if I go to the Omni hotel right now, I’m going to find Tess Girard?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know,” I said. “Knowing her, she’s probably checked out by now.”

  “All right, then,” said Morgan, nodding. “I’ll look into that. While I’m here, let’s talk about Moses Tarawally. What’s your connection to him?”

  “Through Tess. Moses worked for Dominique Girard. He broke into my house, and he killed my dog near the River des Peres. A young homeless girl saw it. She’ll tell you, and she’ll tell you that Tess was with him.”

  “So Moses and Tess are working together?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  “To what end?” asked Morgan.

  “She’s trying to ruin my life,” I said. “Him, I don’t know. Tess has used men she was sleeping with before.”

  “Did Ms. Girard kill Isaac Cohen?” asked Andrew.

  “Probably not directly, but she may have convinced Tarawally to do so. I called you guys so Captain Morgan could find out.”

  Morgan silently stared at me long enough that it felt uncomfortable. He then looked at Andrew. “Please tell your client not to waste my time like this again.” He looked at me. “And listen to Mr. Kimble. Get yourself a lawyer.”

  Morgan started to leave, so I grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back. “This isn’t a snipe hunt or a wild goose chase or whatever cliché you want to call it. She’s here.”

  He looked at my hand and then to my face, his eyebrow raised. “Please get your hand off me.” I let go of his jacket. “Don’t call me again. If we need to talk, I’ll find you.”

  Morgan left the office as quietly as he had come in. Andrew sighed and looked at me, his eyebrows upraised. “Don’t ever do this to me again.”

  “Sorry.”

  He looked at me from my face to my feet and then turned toward the front door. “Get a lawyer, Steve. And not me.”

  As he left my office, I sank into my chair.

  That could have gone better.

  37

  I called Katherine again after Andrew left. This time, she answered. She, Vince, and Ashley were on their way to Chicago, where they had already booked two adjoining rooms at the Park Hyatt. Katherine’s parents would ask questions about why I had asked their daughter to stay in a hotel with a man who wasn’t her husband, but Katherine could handle it. Besides that, nothing would change their opinion of me. Her parents liked me well enough, her drunken brother once told me, but they didn’t think their daughter should settle for a fledgling writer. They thought that she could do better than me, and I was honest enough with myself to agree. Sadly, my present predicament would not have endeared me any further to them.