by Mary Birk
“What do you mean? How long?” She tried to focus her thoughts through the interference going on in her head. Had she seen anything? Heard anything?
“At least for months, maybe longer.”
“It wasn’t Andrew.” No, not Andrew, she thought. Who then?
“How do you know it wasn’t him?”
“He was her father. He would never hurt Lenore.” Anne put her hand to her head, trying to stop the buzzing.
“Can you think of who else would have access to her, someone who could have done something like this?”
She shook her head and the buzzing got worse. She needed to get rid of Jack Shelton now. But he just kept talking.
“Did Lenore ever say anything?”
“No.”
“Did you ever notice anyone around her that seemed to be too interested in her?”
“No.” The buzzing wouldn’t stop; she needed him to just go away. She needed to call Andrew, call Terrence, call her mother.
“You were in a unique position to observe Lenore and Andrew and the people around them. You must have seen something.”
No, no, she told herself. It couldn’t have been Andrew. She knew it wasn’t Andrew. She thought of his unfailing tenderness with the child. Had it been more than tenderness? Could she have missed something like that? No, absolutely not.
She forced her voice to pass through the chaos going on in her head, to sound normal. “There were a lot of people around Lenore. Family members, people who work for the Graingers, men working on the garden renovation, maybe some of the artists or their models. I wouldn’t even know where to start. What about the kidnap and the ransom note? Do you think that wasn’t real?”
“Probably not. We don’t know yet.”
“Have you told Andrew?”
“Not yet. Chief McLendon is going to talk to him.”
“This is going to kill Andrew.”
“I’m going to ask that you not say anything to him until after the chief has had a chance to talk to him.”
“When will that be?” Why were they waiting? Why tell her first? Something was going on.
“As soon as he can—by five for sure.”
She checked her watch, her eyes aching, her mouth dry. “I’ll wait until five, but no longer. He’s going to need to talk to me when he gets this news.” She closed her face down, made her voice cold. “If there’s nothing else, I need to get back to work.” She turned her head away and started going through some papers in front of her. Go, go, go, she silently begged.
From the corner of her eye, she could see him standing there for a while, then he moved out of her line of sight. When she heard the door close, she grabbed her phone.
Chapter 43
REID WAS ALREADY ensconced in a large booth in the almost deserted Ship’s Tavern, nursing a tall, cold pint when Shelton walked in, waved at the waitress, and slid into the seat across from him.
The waitress came over and Shelton gave her a brisk nod. “I’ll take a Guinness. Draft.”
Reid wondered how much the FBI agent would share with him about the investigation. Shelton hadn’t told him about tapping Andrew Grainger’s phone line. McLendon had given him that information on the condition that he wouldn’t tell anyone he’d been told. Reid had been tempted to warn Anne, but he couldn’t betray the chief’s trust.
“I finally feel like we’re getting somewhere. At least we have some leads to go on. And they’re big leads—the molestation is the biggest, of course. Narrows the universe of suspects astronomically. Then there’s the curious fact that the kid wasn’t actually Grainger’s kid and he says he didn’t know that. That part may not be related to what happened to the kid, of course. It could have been he just had a wife who slept around.”
Reid took a drink of his beer. Was that supposed to be a dig about Anne and him? If so, he wasn’t going to give Shelton the satisfaction of looking like he got it.
“Chief McLendon should be here soon. He said he can’t stay long, but I want to hear how it went out at the Colony. He just went out to give Grainger the news that we have evidence the kid was molested.”
“You didn’t want to do that yourself?”
“He’s playing the good cop role. They like him better and I thought maybe Grainger would be more likely to say something to McLendon. Not confess, but maybe make some attempt to point the finger somewhere else.”
“You really think Grainger did it?”
“Who else could it have been?”
Reid shrugged. “I would think there’d have to be some other candidates. Not that he isn’t the most likely, percentage wise.”
“We’re looking at everything. Keeping an open mind, but not ignoring the obvious, either.”
They stopped talking when the waitress arrived with Shelton’s drink, then went on after she’d walked away.
“Any word on if he’ll take a polygraph?” Reid knew he’d feel better about Anne’s safety if the man passed a lie detector test.
“We asked him this morning—we’re still waiting for an answer. We’ve got the examiner set up for tomorrow afternoon. Grainger seemed okay with it but his old man went ballistic and wants to call in lawyers. We’re also planning to ask Anne again. See if she’s made up her mind.”
“I’ll talk to her. She’ll take it.”
“Great. If she’s okay on taking the polygraph, tell her to call the station in the morning to confirm.” Shelton took a drink of his beer.
Reid nodded.
“You seem pretty sure you can get her to agree. She didn’t seem too agreeable when I asked her.”
“Maybe she just didn’t like the way she was asked.” Reid was careful to make sure his voice didn’t reveal that he had heard exactly how she’d been asked. Letting him listen to that recording had been another one of the chief’s unauthorized actions.
“Yeah, maybe she took something I said the wrong way.” Shelton acted innocent, but Reid had no doubt that he knew exactly how he’d come off to Anne. “There’s McLendon now.”
Shelton waved the police chief over.
On his way, the chief got the waitress’s attention, motioned to Reid’s glass and held up one finger. Then he took off his jacket, hung it on the peg by the booth, and slid in next to Shelton.
“How did it go?” Shelton’s voice was eager. “What was the reaction?”
McLendon shrugged. “He seemed shocked.”
“So it didn’t seem like he’d been warned?”
“No.”
“Did he say anything about who he thought could have done it? Try to point us to someone else?”
“No, he said he couldn’t think of anything. That we should talk to Martha Warren.”
“You recorded it?”
“Yes. Here.” McLendon handed over the small recording device.
Shelton took it and put it in his pocket. “Anything else?”
The chief nodded at the waitress who handed him his Guinness. He took a long pull and set it down. “He said he was going to call Anne.”
Shelton looked at his watch, then at Reid. “We got a warrant for a wiretap after the coroner called with the news that the kid had been being molested. Sorry, man, but I didn’t think I should tell you.”
“No problem. I understand.” Reid avoided looking at the police chief.
“She promised not to talk to him until five. The tap’s been in place since before I talked to her, so we’ll have it recorded even if she called him earlier. And if she did, then we know she didn’t keep her promise.”
Reid thought, oh, girl, I hope you did. He hated to think how it would make her look if she hadn’t. He tried to sound casual. “Your people would have let you know if the call came in earlier, wouldn’t they?”
“Maybe, maybe not. Depends on the timing.”
“But as of now, you don’t have any reason to think she called and warned him?” Reid heard the edge in his voice as he leveled his gaze at Shelton.
Shelton stared back at him.
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nbsp; Chief McLendon put down his half empty glass and broke the silence. “Gentleman, I’ll leave you to your discussion. I’m in charge of dinner and homework enforcement tonight. I’ll see you both at the station tomorrow.”
Neither Reid nor Shelton spoke, just nodded. Shelton indicated in the direction of the departing man. “He’s been great. Not territorial, more than willing to cooperate and take direction from us.”
“Aye.” Reid knew he shouldn’t try to antagonize Shelton, but the bastard seemed to want to implicate Anne even when he had no reason to do so.
Shelton seemed to read his mind. “Sorry if I came on a little strong about Anne. You’ve got to admit it doesn’t look good for her.”
“What exactly bothers you?” Reid needed to find out if there was anything else.
“Come on, Reid. The child disappears from the house in the middle of the night with the father and his girlfriend in the house—in the next room, as a matter of fact. Grainger says the intercom in his room was on all night. He says he left it on even when he and Anne were…you know. Why didn’t he mention the intercom to us until we brought it up? Why didn’t she? I think they forgot about it. Forgot that it would be a hole in their story.”
This was more excruciating than he’d believed anything could be, but Reid kept his face impassive.
Shelton seemed to be getting more and more excited. “And then we get back to the convenient facts that the alarm wasn’t on and that no one is absolutely sure all the doors were locked. Here we have a man who just sold some of his paintings for millions, his house is full of priceless artwork, he’s a celebrity of sorts, he’s in an isolated location, and he doesn’t set the expensive elaborate alarm system when they go to bed that night.”
“They explained that, didn’t they?”
Shelton wrinkled his nose. “Not satisfactorily enough for me. And then on Monday morning the child’s body is found—by Anne—washed up by the sea in a remote cove where Anne just happens to be walking all by herself. And now we know the child was being sexually molested for some time, probably for months, and the two of them are the only two there with her every night.” Shelton shook his head. “I just don’t understand how that doesn’t get a reaction from you.”
“I see that Grainger is a suspect. Probably a strong suspect. But that doesn’t mean Anne is involved. If she was supposed to provide an alibi for him, wouldn’t she have said she was there all night?”
Shelton looked at his glass, then at Reid. “Maybe not. Jeanne didn’t hear her come in. They would have driven Anne’s car to get rid of the body—in case someone saw the car, it would have been easy to explain it away—she’d left in the middle of the night, as always.”
“You’ve checked her car?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Didn’t help much. Lenore had been in Anne’s car dozens of times, apparently. No way to tell if the hairs we found were from that night or weeks earlier.”
“So you have nothing.”
“Not yet.”
“You’re wrong about Anne. She’s not involved.”
“You might not be the most impartial observer of the lady.”
“She’s not capable of anything like this.”
“If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly is the status of you and Anne? This some kind of open marriage?”
Reid clenched his fingers tight around his glass. “Don’t be a bloody idiot. I don’t think it’s uncommon that she would see someone else after we’ve been separated so long.” Reid took a drink of his beer. “That doesn’t mean I like it.”
“You’re staying at the Mermaids.”
“Aye, Jeanne invited me. She has a lot of spare rooms.” He narrowed his eyes at Shelton. “Anne and I are separated. That’s all I’ll say on the subject.”
“Man, it seems weird to me that she wants you to help when her boyfriend’s kid disappears. Looks almost like she wants to make sure they can influence the investigation. Which is another thing making her look suspicious.”
“She trusts me. The note said not to call for help and Grainger didn’t want to. Anne thought I could convince him to bring in help. And I did. So it worked, for what it’s worth.”
“You see how it looks? Even that seems fishy. Why wouldn’t he call the police when the kid was snatched? Everyone knows you’re supposed to do that. It’s on every frigging TV show in the world.” He motioned to the waitress to bring him another beer. He looked at Reid, “Want another one?” Reid nodded and Shelton put up two fingers.
“Maybe he took the warning in the note seriously. We both know that happens,” Reid said.
“True, but it’s not just this one thing, it’s all of these things combined that look bad for Grainger. And for your wife, too.” Shelton’s cell rang. He took the call, leaning back in the booth and narrowing his eyes as he listened, making noncommittal remarks. He ended the call, then looked at Reid.
Reid waited. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me what happened? Me being the husband of one of the suspects?”
Shelton grinned. “Me, I’m like Anne. I trust you.”
Just when Reid had been ready to write the guy off completely.
“So? What happened? What did they say?”
“Nothing helpful. Both professed surprise and shock to each other and don’t know how it could have happened.”
Reid exhaled, resisted the urge to close his eyes in relief. He wouldn’t have even admitted to himself that he’d been worried. But sometimes things people say, especially in a phone call, can be taken out of context.
“And she didn’t call him before five?”
“Apparently not.”
Reid nodded. Good girl, he thought.
Then he noticed Shelton looking at him. “What?’
The other man shook his head.
“Go on, Jack. I can tell you want to tell me something else they said.”
“Not really.”
“What is it?”
Shelton took a long swallow of his beer. “Okay, I’ll tell you. He proposed to her again. He wants her to talk to you about getting a quick divorce and not wait for a civil annulment. My guess is he wants to make sure she can’t be forced to testify against him.” He paused. “If I were you, Reid, I’d divorce her as quick as I could. She’s no good for you. Too hot to handle.”
Anxiety rose, a bitter taste in Reid’s mouth. His eyes momentarily lost their focus. Afraid of what his eyes would show, he looked away, tried to resist asking. He looked back at Shelton, shaking his head. Miserable, he gave in. Hating himself for asking, he felt his throat closing up, not sure if he could handle the answer.
“All right, tell me. What did she say?”
“Oh, fuck, I thought so.” Shelton shook his head in dismay. “You’ve still got it bad for her.”
Chapter 44
ANNE PICKED UP her dress on the way home right before the dry cleaners closed. She got back to the Mermaids a little over an hour before she was supposed to be meeting Terrence. At first, she was glad she had time to get ready and think about what she was going to say to him. Now having time to think seemed like a mistake.
She made her bath as hot as she could stand it and slid into the fragrant water, loving the way its heat made her body shudder, then laid back and closed her eyes. She was so nervous about seeing him tonight. They were practically strangers now, but not like when they first met. Now, they had a history to deal with—then, they had been starting fresh.
She opened her eyes, sat up and took a swallow of wine from the cold glass she’d set on the side of the tub. Holding the tart liquid on her tongue, she thought about when she’d met Terrence. While she was getting her graduate degree at the University of Virginia, she’d made it a habit to visit at least one of the area’s historical gardens each weekend. That Saturday it had been Monticello, Thomas Jefferson’s renowned estate. She’d brought along a camera, a sketchbook and her pencils so she could record and absorb what she saw.
S
itting on a bench in one of the gardens, she’d looked up from her drawing and seen a large dark-haired man watching her intently. The breath literally whooshed out of her body when she saw him, his presence eclipsing everything else going on around her. He’d radiated a strength and confidence that instantly captured her. She felt an immediate and deep trust in him. When he introduced himself in his lovely Scottish accent, she’d smiled and acquiesced to his request to sit with her, then found herself walking around the gardens with him. He was totally focused on her and the intensity of that focus mesmerized her. He’d taken her hand and they walked around the gardens together.
Two weeks later, Terrence had miraculously gotten a waiver for the Church’s premarital requirements, and they were married in a small Catholic chapel in Virginia. The beginning of what should have been a wonderful life together faltered when the two of them had just not seemed to know how to make that life together work.
She glanced at the clock. More time had gone by than she’d realized. Now she’d have to hurry. She dipped her hair back into the bath to wet it, quickly shampooed it, rinsing off with the hand-held spray nozzle next to the faucet, then leaped out of the tub. She tried to blow dry her hair with one hand and put on make-up with the other, but after she dropped her eyeshadow on the floor, shattering it and making a powdery mess, she forced herself to slow down.
After she got her hair and make-up finished, the rest of the process went quickly. When she finally decided her reflection in the mirror passed muster, she went back to the dresser, lifted the lid of her jewelry box, and picked out her pearl-drop earrings, a wedding present from his mother. She put them on and then looked back into the little oriental carved box’s velvet lining to where her wedding ring lay.
Gingerly, she took it out. She turned it over so she could see the inscription inside the band of the ring. ALL MY LOVE ALL MY LIFE.
Slipping the ring on her finger, she ran downstairs.
Chapter 45
JUST BEFORE SEVEN O’CLOCK, Anne arrived at the restaurant where she was meeting Terrence. She parked but stayed in her car, catching her breath and summoning up the courage to go inside. She was more nervous than made any sense. She’d married this man, fought with him, slept with him, and lost him. Nothing he could say tonight could be worse than that. If he brought the annulment papers, she’d sign them. If he didn’t, she wouldn’t bring it up.