Written into the Grave

by Vivian Conroy

  Michael took a deep breath. His hand clenched the rocker’s armrest. “I came to you because I need you to smooth things over with Cash.”

  He stared up at the ceiling. “I’m a coward of course. I should go to the station myself this very moment and tell him what I know. It might be pertinent to the ongoing murder investigation. There are two young people locked up for a crime they might not have committed. I stood at my car with the key in my hand to drive out to the police station. I knew I had to go. But still I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Cash will take it as a victory, and right now I just can’t stand to see his gloating face.”

  Vicky frowned at his latter words. “If you weren’t so busy making Cash into your biggest enemy, you might understand he’s not out to gloat over you. He wants to solve this case as much as all of us do. It doesn’t sit right with him that he has locked up two young people who deny they have anything to do with the murder. I think that information helping the case will only be most welcome to him.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Of course. Cash is a professional.”

  Michael didn’t seem to be convinced. “Why wouldn’t he gloat when he was right? When he can throw into my face how I let myself be used? How stupid I was taking on someone I barely knew, just believing his story. You were right as well. You suggested to me that I should check Doug out.”

  Vicky bit her lip. “I suggested it to build a case to Doug’s advantage. Not to incriminate him, you know.”

  Michael shook his head slowly. “Well, it didn’t turn out that way, Vicky.”

  He clenched the armrest harder as if he was gearing up for a tough confession. “I emailed my friend from the orphanage. I was in luck that he replied fast. Turned out he was in the city for a meeting with supporters. He normally doesn’t have access to the internet every day. But now he could respond right away. He had never received a Doug Davis there as a volunteer. I sent him a pic of Doug and he said he had never seen him before in his life.”

  Michael stared up at the ceiling again. “I got antsy and I started to check more things Doug had mentioned to me. Where he had been to school and that he had lived in France for a while. All lies. His name is not even Doug Davis.”

  Michael exhaled. “I always consider myself a pretty rational and commonsense person. I don’t get suckered in by a sad story. But with Doug I just … I didn’t check anything. I believed him, hired him, confided in him, trusted him with the paper and … I was wrong. He’s somebody else, and I have no idea why he’s here.”

  Vicky stood up and came to stand beside the rocking chair. She put her hand on Michael’s arm. “I’m so sorry that you had to find out like this. I can understand you liked Doug. I did too. I only met him this morning, but he’s such a genuinely likable type. Keen, friendly, open.”

  “Genuinely?” Michael laughed softly. “Nothing is real about him, Vicky. That’s just it. I was deceived, and so were you.”

  He looked down. “Cash needs to know. I don’t want to tell him. I can’t. Could you please …”

  “You don’t have to ask me that. Of course I’ll help you.” She squeezed his arm again. “And don’t feel bad for believing in Doug. It was his fault, not yours.”

  Michael looked up at her again. “You asked me if I had ever wanted a daughter, with Celine, if we could have …”

  His expression tightened. “I would have wanted a son. And when Doug came and he offered to work for me, I felt like … he was the reporter I was all those years ago. I identified with him and wanted him to succeed. I didn’t ask questions and didn’t think twice, because … he meant something special to me. Then I discover this …”

  Michael leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.

  Vicky put her hand on his shoulder and said nothing. She didn’t know what to say, and it would all be pointless anyway. Michael had trusted someone who had betrayed his trust and as he had only just discovered it, the pain was sharp and deep.

  She could only show him she was there for him. To talk if he wanted to. Or to say nothing.

  Michael said, “I lost my whole realistic perspective of the situation. I even yelled at Cash and you this afternoon for no reason and …”

  Vicky patted his shoulder. “I understand. You needn’t apologize anymore. It’s all right. Really.”

  Michael released his breath slowly. “Even now I’m trying to make excuses for Doug. I’m telling myself he must have had some reason to lie, a good reason, something I’ll be able to understand. But he did lie and now there has been a murder and he sent a message about it saying it was good that Goodridge’s dead and … What if he’s involved? If he did it? How can I watch as he’s arrested and charged and … even convicted?”

  Vicky swallowed. “If he’s guilty, it can’t be avoided.”

  Her throat was dry, and everything inside of her begged for it not to be true. For Michael to be spared this pain.

  She said with difficulty, “We don’t know yet why he lied. We don’t know why he sent that message or to whom. We have to believe that … he didn’t kill Goodridge until we’re absolutely certain that he did.”

  Michael looked up at her. “He said he was following up a lead and he’d get back to me. But he never did. He must be on the run. He must be trying to escape justice. I have to turn him in. But I can’t. I dug in the garden until my arms almost came off because I didn’t want to do the thing I should have done right away. I should have called Cash. I may be making myself liable by not calling. I might be … an accomplice after the fact or something like that; I’m not sure. All I know is that this is a nightmare I want to wake up from. But somehow I can’t.”

  Vicky wanted to give Michael a hug and tell him she was there for him. But she wasn’t sure that was what he needed right now. He was so mixed up and confused. “Cash will understand that you didn’t call him right away because you wanted to check on your information.”

  “Cash already accused me of shielding Doug.” Michael’s dark eyes stared up at her. “He’ll believe I knew something sooner.”

  “It doesn’t matter what he believes. It matters what the truth is. You didn’t know. You can prove the email from your friend told you Doug had never been there. Then you had to dig deeper. That takes time.”

  Michael shook his head. “Cash will never believe me. To be honest, I considered just getting into my car and driving off. Vanishing like Doug. There’s nothing here for me to stay for.”

  Vicky’s heart squeezed. So that was how he really felt.

  “What about the Gazette?” she asked softly.

  “It was almost dead when I took over; it’s on its feet again. Someone else can take it from here.”

  “And what about your friends here? Your new life? I thought you were settling here.”

  “I don’t know. I … I just want to get away again.”

  Vicky walked back to the sofa and picked up her wine. She took two drafts to calm the nervous feeling in her stomach and said, “I heard you’ve had an offer from a west coast paper.”

  Michael nodded vaguely. “But I don’t think I’ll be going there now. I’d feel like a fraud.”

  “You made a mistake of judgment. That can happen. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

  Michael sighed. “I have no idea where Doug is now or what he has done. I just … want to get away before it gets even more complicated.”

  As he spoke, his phone began to ring.

  Vicky took another sip of wine.

  Michael pulled out his phone and looked at the screen. “It’s Doug,” he said in a low, tense voice.

  Vicky put down her glass with a bang. “Well, answer it.”

  “But I don’t know what to say to him.”

  “Let him talk. Find out where he is. If we can persuade him to turn himself in, it might not be so bad for him. If Cash hears that he left town and starts a hunt for him …”

  Michael nodded at her. “OK.”

&
nbsp; He pushed the accept call button. “Hello?”

  Vicky sat up, watching Michael’s expression intently. Despite the wine her stomach churned again.

  “What?” Michael said. “Now? Have you looked at the time? Yes, I understand, but … All right then. Where exactly? In twenty minutes. Fine.”

  He disconnected, lowered the phone and looked at Vicky. “He wants to meet me to share important information on the case.”

  “You haven’t asked him where he has been all day. You didn’t let on that you know …”

  “Of course not. I don’t want to drive him into flight. Maybe I can still help him. Convince him to turn himself in to the police. As long as he’s on the run, he’s only making it worse for himself.”

  Michael raked a hand through his hair. “We’re meeting, in twenty minutes time at the Fisherman’s Haven resort. In the back of the resort where a few cabins are closed off for repairs.”

  “That’s a pretty deserted place.” Vicky felt a nervous wriggle in her stomach. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to go there?”

  “Doug asked, and I agreed. No time to second-guess it.” Michael sat motionless. “I have to convince him to turn himself in, but how?”

  “He probably doesn’t know or suspect you know he lied to you. That could be an advantage.”

  Michael looked at her. “But I know that I know. And I feel like he’ll be able to see it in my face the minute I stand before him.”

  Vicky had to admit that this was likely in the emotional state Michael was in.

  Michael said, “If he senses something’s wrong, he might just run off again. I’ve once seen him run, on the beach. I can never catch up with him.”

  He gave a short bitter laugh. “Besides, what would I do? Drag him to the ground like I’m arresting a suspect? I’m not a police officer.”

  “But you did just say that now you know you do have an obligation. You can’t let him run. Not just for your own sake, or the case, but for Doug’s sake as well. If he’s involved, he can’t stay on the run for the rest of his life. He has to face up to the consequences of what he did.”

  Michael nodded. “I know. But I don’t know if I can explain it to him, calmly.”

  “I’m coming along.” Vicky said it quietly like it was self-evident. “I can talk to him if you find you can’t do it. Between us we’ll be able to convince him.”

  “No, I don’t want you there.” Michael looked for words. “He might be desperate and …”

  “Armed? Cash has the gun that fired the lethal shots this morning.”

  “He thinks he does. Ballistics can’t have reported back already. What if the gun is a decoy? Or Cash just mistakenly assumed it was used in the murder?”

  Vicky considered. “It’s possible of course, but why assume that Doug would want to hurt anyone?”

  “Come on, Vicky, you’re not coming with me because you think I’ll be safe there.”

  Vicky took a deep breath. “I’m coming with you because you’re emotional and that’s never a good state to be in when you need to have a difficult conversation. I want to prevent escalation. Please let me come. We’ll stay close together.”

  Michael pursed his lips.

  “I don’t want to stay here alone and worry about you.” Vicky jutted out her chin. “I might be tempted to call Cash. If he comes in during your meeting with Doug …”

  Michael paled at the prospect. “That’s unfair. You wouldn’t do that.”

  “Not if you take me.”

  Michael stared at her. “You mean it, huh?”

  “Yes. I want to go with you.”

  Michael got up from the rocking chair and nodded. “All right then. Get a coat or something. It might start to rain. But I want you to stay behind me all of the time. If Doug is armed, it’s better if he shoots me than you.”

  “If he doesn’t know you suspect anything, he won’t just start shooting.”

  Vicky sounded more confident than she felt inside. What if Doug did assault Michael? How would she stop him?

  She collected her light raincoat from the hall and took her purse with her phone.

  As they stepped outside and she closed her back door, a shiver went down her spine.

  Who was Doug Davis really? What had he wanted in Glen Cove?

  And what did he want now?

  With this meeting at an abandoned spot in the Fisherman’s Haven resort?

  Chapter Sixteen

  At the Fisherman’s Haven resort Michael left his car near a cabin that was inhabited, and together he and Vicky walked down a dirt path that led to the cabins that were temporarily unavailable as they were being repaired or updated.

  Michael used the light from his cell phone to light the path ahead of them.

  Vicky felt the cold wind breathe down her neck and dived deeper into her raincoat.

  The darkness around seemed to be closing in on her, and her nerves were on edge listening for suspicious sounds. Like soft footfalls behind them.

  But there seemed to be nothing but the sound of the ocean in the distance and the solitary cry of a bird in the branches above.

  Michael halted. “Are you sure you want to come with me? Maybe you should have waited in the car.”

  “Well, I’m not going back to the car alone now. I’m going with you. Look, there’s a flash of light ahead there.” Vicky pointed.

  Michael looked in the direction of her finger. “I don’t see anything.”

  “It’s gone now. But I saw it clearly.”

  “OK.” Michael put his arm lightly round her shoulders. “Let’s walk on then.”

  Vicky stared into the darkness at the place where the light had lit up for a moment. It seemed to be near one of the cabins that was being repaired. They all had a lamp near them to provide a little illumination for the inhabitants. Even though there were no guests staying there at this particular time, the lamp was on. In the light of it they could see a ladder, tins with paint and other apparel lying about.

  Michael called out in a low voice, “Doug? Are you there?”

  Something moved beside the cabin, and then Doug stepped into the light of the lamp. He wore a dark coat and had his phone in his hand. Vicky supposed she had seen the screen light up in the darkness beside the cabin moments before.

  Doug stared at her. “Why did you bring her?”

  “Vicky’s a close friend of mine,” Michael said. “She was there this morning when the body was found. She wants to hear what you learned. A hot lead, you said?”

  Doug blinked as if he was nervous or confused. “Yes, uh, well … The sheriff seems to suspect the guy who wrote the piece for the newspaper. But the piece wasn’t sent from his home computer. I’ve been to the computer café it was sent from. The owner wasn’t talkative though.”

  “We already know all that,” Michael said, impatience ringing through in his voice. “The daughter of the victim worked there and she was taken into custody as well. Tell me something new you figured out.”

  Doug was obviously not used to his boss applying such a curt tone with him. He bit his lip. “I looked into the family’s financial situation as well. It seemed the victim was loaded. And he was a ruthless businessman. He must have had enemies.”

  “Must have is something I can hardly write in my paper tomorrow. I need facts and hard evidence, not speculation. Besides, why are we standing here discussing this in a remote spot instead of you coming to my house or calling me on the phone?”

  “I just thought it was safer.”

  “Safer?” Michael hitched a brow. “You talk like you’re an informer with a hot tip for me. But we’re in a small town, and although there was a murder this morning, there are hardly other lives in danger. Are there?”

  Doug stood motionless.

  “Are there?” Michael pressed.

  Doug looked down. His young face was uncertain in the yellowish light of the lamp.

  Vicky said, “I thought you we
re going to be working at the police station all day. You were gone so soon.”

  “The sheriff was mad at me for having used his computer to look up something on the internet. I didn’t feel welcome anymore.”

  “Let’s not play games, Doug,” Michael said. His voice was level, but Vicky could feel the tension quiver in his posture. “You didn’t look up something on the internet. You were looking at police files. You had no right. You’re getting me and the Gazette in trouble.”

  Doug stared at him. “You know?”

  “I can guess. If you had simply wanted to look up a thing, you could have used your phone. But you used the sheriff’s computer, to get into his system.”

  “It was easy enough. He didn’t protect the information very well.”

  “That’s not the point. If I leave my wallet on my desk, you’re welcome to take it, just because it’s there?”

  Doug blinked. “I’m not a thief.”

  “Then what are you?” Michael held his gaze. “Someone who lies his way into a police station so he can get into the computers there?”

  “I was just working on the murder case. I wanted to write up a great article. For you.”

  “Look, Doug …” Michael checked his watch. “It’s close to eleven-thirty. I would like to be in bed. Tell me what you want to tell me or let me go home.”

  Doug pulled back his shoulders. “Go home then. If you’re not interested in a hot scoop.”

  “A hot scoop?” Michael suddenly grabbed the young man’s shoulders and pushed him back against the wooden wall of the cabin under repair.

  Vicky gasped at the sudden impact of body against wood.

  “A hot scoop?” Michael’s voice quivered with anger. “You’re no reporter, Doug. Not because you don’t have a degree, but because you never intended to get one. You lied to me, start to finish. Your background, your dreams, your work in Asia. All lies. I don’t know why you did it. But I’m sick and tired of being lied to. You don’t have to come back to the Gazette tomorrow morning. There’s no place for you there.”