Slowly Jessica lowered the phone, her thoughts stricken with fear and confusion. Then, she picked it back up and hastily dialed Roxanne’s number. She did not leave a message when the answering machine picked up.
The blow was a heavy one. Wandering to the couch, Jessica sat down and tried to make sense of Roxanne’s words. Her friend’s voice had sounded vague and disassociated, as though she was talking to herself and not Jessica.
Perhaps I should call Tom. Maybe Rox has gone off the deep end.
But before she could determine how to reach Roxanne’s husband, the front door swung open wide and her own walked into the room.
Twenty-six
Suspect!
"Come in, Mrs. Jarrick. Have a seat. I’ll be right with you." Murdo Denehy pulled out a chair for his guest and crossed the room to refill his coffee, holding his mug up in offer. Roxanne declined with a shake of her head. Denehy returned, picked up his pencil and took a deep breath. "Well. Shall we begin? You had a statement you wanted to make?"
"Yes. I have knowledge of Dane Pierce’s guilt."
"Guilt in what way?"
"I believe he killed Mac MacKendall."
"I see. Now, you say you have knowledge. Would you also have some sort of… physical evidence pertinent to this crime?"
"Not in my possession, no. But I know about it, and where it is."
Denehy tapped his pencil eraser on the table. "You know where it is. In what form, may I ask, is this purported evidence?"
"It’s a computer. He, Dane, that is, wrote in his computer about killing Mac."
"And you read this… accounting? In the computer?"
"Yes, I did. It was at his house. I already suspected as much, but when I was there, for the wedding, you know, I found it. I would have copied it to a disk, too, but Tom stopped me."
"Tom?"
"My husband. There’s also a journal somewhere. Dane said something about it being too bad that Mac had read the journal, and that now he’d have to destroy it."
"Do you know where this journal might be?"
"I have an idea."
"I see. All right. Let’s get this all down. I’m going to videotape you, is that okay with you?"
"Of course. Whatever it takes to bring justice."
"Fine. Let’s begin. Tell me everything you remember reading, and the exact location of this… computer the last time you saw it."
~ * ~
The hot water felt good. He thought about inviting Jessica to join him in the hot tub, but decided he really didn’t want any company while he mulled over the events of the last 72 hours.
Like a jigsaw puzzle, the bits of information he had gathered had yet to be put together. One thing was for sure; Steven Conway was a piece that didn’t seem to belong. He didn’t fit the role Dane had conjured, that of the philandering congressman courting the young ex-hooker and getting her knocked up. Something about his integrity, his pride, and the expressions on the faces of his family members. More, it was Dane’s own instinct that caused him to shake his head. Yet there was something. Some connection, and an acknowledgment, if fleeting, that Conway knew more than he was willing to let on.
Dane filled his lungs and exhaled slowly, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. There had to be something he could do. If Conway wasn’t the answer, perhaps there was another angle, one he’d missed. The doctor, for example, who had handled the blood transfusion. Maybe he should talk to the nurse at the hospital.
Charlene was, or had been, he reminded himself, a very private person.
With a silent smile, he remembered the day he’d talked with Jessica on the telephone, and she’d mentioned Charlene’s pregnancy. He had been flippant, reminding her that he could not take responsibility for the baby; after all, Jessica was well aware of his inability to father children since his vasectomy eight or nine years ago. No matter that he’d not been intimate with Charlene for close to four years.
Dane sighed. Eventually he would probably have to face the fact that the adoption would not occur. The cards seemed stacked against them, and he was doubtful that even proof of the father’s paternity would have much bearing on the case.
"Damn," he muttered. Too bad I’m not the father. That would solve everything.
No. There would have to be another way to get Jessica the baby she so wanted.
Dane reached for a hand towel and ran it across his face. There was one way. If he was brave enough to try it.
She was on the phone when he passed through their bedroom on his way to the shower.
"I know, honey. I miss him too. Every single day," she was saying, her voice low and fraught with melancholy. "No, of course no one could ever replace him."
Dane pretended to ignore her, but left the bathroom door ajar.
"Megan, listen to me. I loved your daddy. He was the best. I would give anything if he could come back, but he can’t, and there’s nothing we can do except go on and make the best of things."
Setting his jaw, Dane reached into the shower and turned the knob on full force.
~ * ~
"Sure. I was there. MacKendall punched Pierce in the face."
"What were the specifics of the fight, Mr. Wagner?" Denehy switched the phone to his other ear and grabbed up his pencil. "They were arguing about something?"
"Well, it was over Jessica. They hated each other. Word was, Mac couldn’t stand the way he treated her. They were both jealous as hell. That asshole Pierce thought he had her under his thumb, then the white knight showed up on his steed. Of course, we all know how that played out. She dropped the scum ball when Mac finally found the cojones to take her."
Denehy tried to ignore the fact that Kyle Wagner had an obvious dislike for Dane Pierce.
"But this fight. What did Pierce do to provoke it?"
"Well, I wasn’t actually there, mind you. But he was always baiting people, like he hoped they’d take him on. No one would. He was the boss, you know? Cross him and you were off the film. Period."
"So, you didn’t see MacKendall hit him?"
"Well, no, not actually. But I did see them square off in the hospital waiting room. Then they went to the cafeteria to get coffee. It happened in there. They were alone. Pierce came out with a black eye."
"I see. Listen, Mr. Wagner, thanks for the information. I may be calling on you again."
"She’s a nice girl, Detective. She likes Pierce, but he’s gotta be bad for her."
Murdo Denehy hung up the phone. Jessica MacKendall Pierce was a nice girl, and he hoped he could prove his case before something terrible happened.
He added the notes from his phone call with Kyle Wagner to the file, bradding them in just above the deposition of the hotel maid who’d recounted the eavesdropped phone call between Mac and Dane. MacKendall had asked for extra pillows, and had been on the phone when she’d brought them. He’d hurried about the room, she explained, in search of his wallet in order to tip her, the phone wedged between his ear and shoulder. She’d taken the time to check his bath towels and toiletries while he searched.
"Well I’ve changed my mind. It’s not a good idea… No, as a matter of fact, I don’t trust you. It was stupid of me to think that you could ever… that’s not true and you know it… You can just forget it. What? Listen pal, you made a promise to me…"
She’d been a little sketchy, yet was fairly certain of the gist of the conversation. But the most striking recollection was that of Mac’s final words to Dane.
"Are you threatening me, Pierce? Because if you are, I say, bring it on, boy. Because you know what? I keep my promises. I said I will never leave her and I won’t. You’d have to kill me first."
Denehy shook his head. He would make this case stick. Because if there was anything of which he could be certain, it was that Dane Pierce would stop at nothing to possess Jessica. Not even murder.
~ * ~
Jessica watched Greg’s truck until it disappeared down the unmarked road that led to the main highway. Dane had insisted upon d
riving to the airport, Greg beside him in quiet compliance.
The tension had been high during his brief stay. She had not related Roxanne’s phone call to Dane, and had regretted it since. The talk with Mac’s daughter had further unnerved her, and Dane himself had seemed self-absorbed and withdrawn. They had not made love in the two nights he’d stayed.
Oh well. She felt her period coming on anyway. Jessica made a mental note to write out a message to herself as Dr. Anderson wanted her to keep a record. Her hormone levels were all over the map and he had suggested that she should consider a supplement of some kind, an idea she always pooh-poohed. She was reticent to take even an aspirin.
She turned back from the window and found Zoe at her side.
"What’s up, Sweetpea?"
"I miss Daddy already."
"Me too. He’ll be back soon, though. He’s just got a few matters to tend to in L.A." Jessica bent and gave the girl a warm hug. "You talk to your mom on the phone today?"
"Yeah. She says I gotta go back to school soon."
"Well, she’s right. As much as I love having you here, you can’t miss school. How do you feel about going back home?"
Zoe looked down. "I hate it. But Daddy says I can come back at Christmas."
"You know what? You’re going to be fine. You’ve changed since you came here. Have you looked in the mirror lately?" Jessica took Zoe by the hand and led her to the guest bathroom. Indeed, Zoe had lost the baby fat look, had more color and less worry in her face. "Check this out." Jessica pulled the girl’s mop of mouse brown hair back from her face and lifted her chin a bit, then dragged most of her thick bangs back as well. "What do you say we go into town and get your hair all fixed up? Then we’ll shop for some new school clothes."
"I think Mom already bought me some," Zoe said, her expression dour.
"And they probably won’t fit," Jessica added with a giggle.
Zoe’s face brightened. "Yeah, right. Okay."
The shopping trip went well, Jessica delighting in the results of Zoe’s "makeover" day. Breathless, they carried in their packages and shared the contents with Lydia, who clapped her hands with joy. Zoe was mugging for Jessica’s camera when the phone rang.
"You have news?" Jessica asked upon hearing Sergeant Denehy’s voice on the line.
"Yes, Mrs. MacKendall. I have some information you might want to know about."
"It’s Mrs. Pierce, Detective."
"Right. Sorry. Look, I’ll get right to the point. I’ve taken three depositions that may shed some light on your husband’s… your late husband’s murder. I’m sorry to tell you that Dane Pierce has been implicated."
Jessica’s breath caught in her throat. It was only a moment before she was recovered enough to speak. "I don’t know what you mean. Dane had nothing, nothing whatsoever to do with Mac’s… death. There’s obviously been some mistake."
"No, no mistake. Two individuals have come forward and are willing to testify that… that Dane had motivation and desire to get Mac out of the picture."
Jessica forced a chuckle. "So, you’re talking about opinions and hearsay. Sergeant Denehy, surely you realize that there are some people in this world who may not be fond of my husband. And I’ll be the first to say that Mac and Dane had their differences. But they were friends. They were like brothers, at times. You’re barking up the wrong tree, so to speak."
"I wish I was, Mrs. Pierce. But this isn’t looking good for him. And one of the witnesses says she knows of written evidence."
She knows. Roxanne.
"I don’t think I want to be a part of this conversation any longer."
"Wait. Can you honestly say that you don’t think your husband, your current husband, ever wished ill upon Mac MacKendall? Isn’t it true that for a time, you and Mac were estranged--nearly broke up--all due to Dane Pierce’s continual pursuit of you, a married woman?"
"That’s really none of your business."
"Okay." There was a pause, and Jessica noticed that she was beginning to shake.
"Is there anything more?" she asked.
"Just this. If you should think of anything, anything at all that could alter the course of this investigation, please call me. Even if it further implicates Mr. Pierce. You owe it to yourself, and Mac, that justice is served, Jessica."
Jessica bristled at his use of her first name. "If you mean will I turn on my own husband, you’re crazy, Detective. I love my husband, not that it’s any concern of yours. And besides, should any charges ever be filed, what I know or do not know about his relationship with Mac will never become public knowledge. I know that as his wife, I cannot be compelled to testify against him."
"And did you ever consider, Mrs. Pierce, that perhaps he knew that fact also when he got you to marry him?"
As a cold chill engulfed her body, Jessica hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
~ * ~
The talk with Reiner went well. Dane felt better than he had upon his return to L.A. For now, all he wanted to do was put the adoption, the unknown father and the murder investigation out of his mind. And what better way than to start a new film?
With some regret, he boxed up his "investigative" materials and shoved them into his file cabinet. Surely Brady Stern would come up with something and this would all be for naught. For now, there would be pre-production meetings, costume fittings, rehearsals. Location selections and product-placement deals. As a co-producer, Dane would have a hand in every aspect of Unstable Airspace.
Including the casting of the leading female role.
Jess would be perfect for this, he thought with a heavy sigh. But his new wife had made her wishes crystal clear; she wanted a year off. At least a year, she had asserted. And he would give her that. He would, in fact, give her anything she wanted.
Even a baby?
The thought reminded him of one of his excuses for coming back to Southern California. Dr. Segal and his annual physical. It was nearing the fourth of July, and it would be better to try to get in before the long holiday weekend.
~ * ~
"You’re sure you want to do this?"
"Quit asking me before I change my mind. Yes."
"It might not work."
"Fine. Just… do it."
"Okay. Monday afternoon. I want to see your labs first. Stomach okay these days?"
"Doc, my stomach is cast iron. I’m still working out, I’m married to a wonderful woman, I’ve got my daughter back, and life is grand. Now, is it time for me to turn my head and cough? I’ve got work to do."
Dr. Segal smiled and shook his head. "Same old Dane."
~ * ~
Sal Cicerelli would direct. Together, Dane and Sal watched the screen tests of the actresses that were vying for the lead role. Dane rubbed his eyes. "I don’t know. You choose."
"Not easy, is it? Okay. I pick… Suzanna King."
"Nope. Not her."
"Fiona Collins?"
"Forget her. Her lips are too big."
Sal chuckled. "And you wanted me to choose."
"Lisa Lee."
"Okay. She was really my first choice." Sal patted Dane on the head and stood up to stretch. "We’ve got an early day tomorrow. Get some rest, will you?"
"Sure."
Back at the beach house, Dane poured over the script, striking out lines and adding them, scratching notes in the margin. He lamented that his copy was already dog-eared, and production wouldn’t even start for weeks. A new copy would be forthcoming, however, as soon as his changes were effected.
At 1 a.m., he took a shower and lay atop his bed, turning on the TV. With a heavy heart, he realized he hadn’t called Jessica in two days. He imagined her at home, rattling around in the big house with the children, lazily living out the end of the summer. The phone on the bedside table interrupted his thoughts.
"I can’t sleep," Jessica said simply, and Dane smiled.
"Me either. How are you, Sweetie?"
"I’m… nervous."
"About what?"
"Everything. It’s just… I don’t know."
Dane pulled himself to a sitting position. "Cough it up, Darlin’. What’s bothering you?"
"Denehy called me."
Dane groaned. "And what did that idiot want now? Do they have any new leads?" He waited for his wife to respond; her silence put him on edge. "Well?"
"I don’t know how to tell you this. Some people think… that you’re involved." Jessica paused, then hurried on. "I told him he was crazy! You couldn’t possibly have wished Mac any harm. I don’t know who would say such awful things."
"Any number of people, Jess. Don’t let it bother you. It’s just talk, idle talk."
"Right. Of course."
"You do know that, right? You don’t think--"
"He said there is someone who has some written evidence. Something you wrote about Mac. Is that true?"
Damnation. God damn it!
"Jessica. You just said that you knew I’d never… what the hell is going on? It’s… lies. All lies. This is… crap! That’s what it is. That asshole Denehy is running for District Attorney. He just wants the press. It isn’t even his case! He has no authority."
There was silence on the line. Dane took a deep breath; his heart was pounding in his chest and he noticed his palms were damp. Calm down. You’re just making this worse.
"I’m sorry," he said softly. "I’m just so… offended by all this. I already knew that Denehy was making accusations. I had hoped he’d have the good sense to leave you out of this, Jess. He has no leads, so he’s trying to create a scenario that just doesn’t exist. That’s all it is, Sweetie. Let’s not get all bent out of shape. Because then he wins."
"Okay. Whatever you say," she said, but Dane was unconvinced of her sincerity. He hung up the phone knowing that neither of them would be able to sleep.
~ * ~
Labor Day found Jessica saying goodbye to her new, upgraded stepdaughter in Salt Lake City. She’d taken the short hop flight to Salt Lake with the girl, Devon and Alexander in tow, and couldn’t have been prouder of Zoe’s new look and demeanor. A chubby, despondent child had become an attractive, happy, pre-adolescent with a sunny smile and a new, flattering wardrobe. Secretly, Jessica wished she could be a fly on the wall when Rita laid eyes on her daughter. She only hoped Rita wouldn’t find a way to punish Zoe for the change.
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