“Hey, what’s this ‘were?’ I’m still here.”
“I know.” He turned his head to her. “They know I killed Gordon.”
She tried to stop him from continuing, but he motioned her to wait. “I don’t know if they can prove it yet,” Buck explained, “but they’ve narrowed it down. If they can prove we’re together, we’ll both go down.”
“No,” she protested.
“Listen, if they can find evidence to put us together, that’s motive. And then they won’t stop. They’ll find more stuff. It’s out there. I didn’t exactly cover my tracks after the shit hit the fan.”
“But they can’t prove it.”
Buck knew he had to prepare her, even though it pained him to tell her. “Gordon had pictures. Of us. He had us followed.”
The color fell out of her face. “No. Oh, no.”
“The cops may not have seen them, but the thugs did. It’s possible they might be the only copies…if we have any luck left at all.”
Angie seemed to regain her composure a bit. “That would be like Gordon, to insist on keeping the only copies and all the negatives.”
“Hopefully,” Buck agreed. “But whatever investigator took them will eventually come forward. And when I’m arrested—”
“Don’t even say it,” she hissed, grabbing his arm.
He pressed on her hands to still her so he could continue. “Please, this is hard enough. Now, if I’m caught, you’ve got to go on. There’s no need for you to be involved, too.”
She began to cry. “But I was the one who…I started the whole thing.”
He could see her scared little kid coming to the surface. “It doesn’t matter, Angie. Look, it’s not like I’m planning to get caught. I’m just telling you now, while I can, that I don’t want you to go down for this, too, if it comes to that.”
The sharp buzz of the doorbell made them both involuntarily jump. They looked at one another, instantly alert, up in a panic, buttoning and zipping up.
He whispered, “Bathroom.”
She nodded and headed in there.
Whoever it was didn’t seem to be giving up. More buzzing. By now Angie was dressed and sitting in the tub of his bathroom. He pulled the shower curtain around her.
Silently, he moved into the living room and listened. After a moment, he recognized Horse’s voice.
“Mr. Dearmore, it’s Detective Douglas and Edgars. We need to speak with you.”
Buck saw Angie’s purse and wig by the sofa and quickly took them back to the bathroom. Everything else looked okay if he had to let them in.
“Mr. Dearmore?” It was Edgars’ voice this time. “We just need to clarify a small detail and we’ll leave you alone. We can hear you moving around.”
“Just a second.” He glanced in a full length mirror to check that he looked halfway together.
Finally, he steeled himself and opened the door. He shook his head, trying to look like he’d just gotten up. “I guess I fell asleep back there.” He wasn’t about to let them in, but he tried to look undisturbed. “What small detail?”
“May we come in?” Edgars asked with upraised eyebrows.
Buck was ready for them. “Sorry, not to be rude, but my lawyer told me not to let you in here again. In fact, I’m not supposed to be talking to you at all.”
Horse looked like he might jump in, but Edgars raised his hand to tell him to cool it. “That’s fine, Mr. Dearmore. We were hoping to come in for a few minutes, but we can do this downtown if you’d rather come with us.”
Buck turned this over in his head. Edgars probably expected him to let them in after the detective threw this inconvenience at him. But Buck wasn’t about to. It would take just one sound from Angie, one thing left in sight that he hadn’t noticed. He didn’t like leaving, but it made more sense than refusing to cooperate. Finally, he said, “Fine, gentlemen. I’ll just lock up.”
The detectives stood there, obviously not going anywhere until he did.
“I need to call my lawyer,” Buck said, hoping they might go ahead. “I can just meet you there.”
But Edgars seemed to read him all too well. “Actually, we should drive you. You can call him on the way.”
Buck put on a relaxed face. “Alright.” He grabbed his wallet and cell. He was tempted to say something on the way out that Angie might overhear, so she’d know what was up, but he was afraid it would sound clumsy to the detectives. So he had to leave, hoping she might have caught some of what the detectives said, even though he knew the bathroom was too far away.
Just like him, she was on her own now.
Chapter 94
Angie sat motionless in the bathroom for a good five minutes after she heard the door close. She had the shakes so bad she wasn’t sure she could have gotten out of the tub anyway. She had recognized the detectives’ voices, which spooked her so bad she just scrunched down even lower, clutching her head with her arms.
Clearly, they were taking Buck with them, but she didn’t know if they had arrested him or not.
Finally, when the apartment’s quiet was starting to acquire a buzzing hum of its own, she slowly pushed herself up out of the tub. Her right foot had gone numb. She wiggled it as she tiptoed around, as though somebody might still be there.
Once the feeling was back, she grabbed the rest of her stuff and quickly got back into her disguise. Angie paced another ten minutes, then finally slipped out. Her body was so tightly alert that when she heard a distant door close as she reached the lobby, she jumped and barely stifled a scream.
She slipped out the back entrance of the building and hurried back to the Mercedes. She forced herself to drive below the speed limit all the way home. When she reached her neighborhood, she threw off the wig and scarf before pulling up to the house.
Just as she clicked the garage door opener, her cell phone personal ringer went off in her purse. Her heart seemed to jump up into her brain. After the heart thumps calmed, she picked it out of her purse. It was an Unknown Number. Maybe the funeral home.
She answered. “Hello?” Angie slumped as she recognized Edgars’ voice.
“Mrs. Wesner?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry to have to interrupt your day again, but we’ve had a couple of new developments and we need you to come down to the station if you could.”
So they must have arrested him. She forced a natural voice. “Now, you mean?”
“If that’s possible. Yes, ma’am.” A beat, then, “I’m sorry. I know it’s a difficult time, but his shouldn’t take long.”
“Okay,” she finally agreed. “It’ll take me a few minutes to get ready.”
Edgars said, “Say in half an hour then?”
Angie didn’t like his pushing, however polite he sounded on the other end. “I’ll try,” she said, a bit curt.
“Thank you, Mrs. Wesner.”
Angie clicked off the phone and pulled the Mercedes into the garage. She sat there, mulling it over. Deep down, she wanted to run, like she had most of her life. She would know how to do that. There would be a pang of guilt, an awful moment of discomfort as she saw herself betraying him. Then she’d scat, quick as she could.
Just leave the engine running, back out and drive wherever the roads took her. Only this time she could see what lay ahead. Always checking the rear view mirror. Always listening for that knock on her door.
She sighed. Not this time. This thing was just going to have to play out. She couldn’t rush it, and had no control over it now. It was, however, far from over. She and Buck might yet find themselves in some seaside home, growing old together, walking down familiar beaches.
The motor still running, Angie sat there in a garage filled with boxes of Christmas decorations and kitchen stuff, paint cans and anti-freeze. She could see how mundane her life was, after all. She had always felt driven to grow it into something more dramatic, more important, more glamorous. And to hell with anybody in her way.
Now, out of the blue, none of it see
med to matter. The only thing was this unexpected warm spot inside her. She didn’t want to let go of it. She’d risked going to Buck’s apartment to find out exactly what happened, maybe steal a quickie with him. Instead Angie had gotten a rush of emotion from him that was more complicated and real than they’d ever shared before.
She’d never loved him more than then, his tired heart the only thing giving him the strength to make love at all. She had wanted to throw off her own emotional armor and trust him. She had come close. Only with him had even that much ever loosened with a man.
Then she realized her decision about Buck had been made a long time ago. She was just finally ready to acknowledge it. Angie was not about to leave him. She would go inside, get dressed, drive to the station and lie for him, cover up, whatever it took.
It was time to fight, not flee.
Chapter 95
The wait in the holding cell had crawled by for Erika. She had read every inscription on the wall, studied every dried stain, however distasteful her conclusions on the contents. She still had an uneasy, awful predilection, which the relentless gray sky outside only punctuated.
Erika had always had a strong sixth sense, a way of knowing something was going to happen, even when it seemed it couldn’t. She remembered hugging her perfectly healthy foster mother goodbye after a weekend visit. As Erika had turned to leave, it crossed her mind, “God knows if I’ll ever see her again,” even though it made no sense.
That afternoon her mother had suffered an abdominal aneurism. By the time Erika hurried back, she was already gone.
Persistent thoughts about Tony while she had paced the cell bothered her, even though there were plenty of reasons for them. She had no idea where he was, probably running, possibly making more trouble for himself. And, even though she had ignored it, that same last time deja vu had washed over her when she left Tony in her apartment.
Erika had assumed it meant she and Tony would never have that talk about breaking up, that Tony would blow town or never get back to her. She had convinced herself the feeling went no deeper than that. Tony was too mean to die.
When Lieutenant Douglas, wearing a somber, sympathetic face, came to her cell a few minutes later, she didn’t put the two events together. “Sorry to keep you here so long,” he said. “It’s been a bear of a morning so far.”
“I understand,” Erika said.
“If you’ll come with me, I have some news.”
Erika followed him down the hall which led to interview rooms. As they turned a corner, walking right toward them was Buck Dearmore and Detective Edgars. Buck’s eyes met hers, and she almost said hello, but he squinted, like he wasn’t sure if he knew her or not. After the beating it looked like he had taken, she could understand. Most people never recognize waitresses, anyway, unless they’re serving them food.
Douglas ushered her into his cubicle office and they sat down at his desk. “You want some coffee? Coke?” he asked.
Erika shook her head. Douglas looked like he didn’t know how to start. Then she knew what it was.
“You found Tony,” she stated.
“Yes,” Douglas nodded.
“Is he okay?” she asked, but she knew he wasn’t.
“I’m afraid not. I’m sorry to have to tell you, he’s dead.”
Erika crumpled. Just like that, he was gone.
“Tony was shot a couple of hours ago trying to rob a garage off 152. He was found dead near the scene.”
She nodded. Her throat constricted. “Was anyone else hurt?”
“He shot a garage owner.”
“Dead, too?”
“No, he’s in the hospital. Looks like he’ll make it.”
After a moment, she asked, “Maybe some water?”
Douglas returned with a glass of water, then took a plastic baggie from his desk. He waited while she took a drink and composed herself.
“We usually try to have the family identify the body, but his mother seems to have moved away somewhere,” Douglas began.
Erika looked up at him. “You want me to…?”
Douglas nodded.
“I’ve never done that before.”
“We’ll make it as brief as possible. You’d see him on a Gurney in the morgue. Through a viewing window. Just his face.” Douglas waited for a response that didn’t come. “I’m sorry to have to ask, especially after all you’ve helped us with.”
Erika stared at the baggie in his hand. “What’s that?”
“A ring found on the body.”
She recognized the snake ring through the clear plastic. “It’s got a snake winding around it.”
“Yeah.” Douglas nodded, took the ring out of the bag and held it up with a ballpoint pen for her to see.
Struggling for composure, she said, “That’s it. I gave it to him yesterday.”
Chapter 96
Outside the police station, in addition to the usual media vehicles, several local t.v. broadcast trucks began pulling up, unloading complete crews for onsite broadcasts.
Edgars heard the commotion just as he sat down in one of the interview rooms to talk with Buck Dearmore and Hackman, his lawyer.
“What the hell?” the detective asked as he rose from his chair and walked over to a window. Lack of sleep and too many irons in the fire had spent what little mental capital he had left. He was in no mood.
When he glanced down into the street, Edgars was impressed enough to whistle.
“What is it?” Dearmore asked from his seat by the table.
“A boatload of media. I’m not sure why.”
Hackman eyed him suspiciously. “Did you make some big announcement about my client’s visit?”
“No, sir, did not,” Edgars said, walking toward the door. “Although I can understand why you might think that.” In fact, Edgars could not guarantee that somebody else at the station hadn’t leaked the fact that Dearmore was here being questioned. “I’ll be right back.”
As he stepped outside into the hallway, a couple of other detectives were hurrying past him toward the elevator. “Hey, what’s going on?” Edgars asked.
One of them turned with a grin. “They nailed ‘Hankie’.”
Edgars chuckled. “No shit?”
“They’re bringing him in now,” the other detective said. They stepped on the elevator and were gone.
It was one of those cases that the department would relish. Hankie had been spitting in their eye for years. In fact, Edgars thought if Hanks had not flaunted his Teflon status so publicly, he might not have been pursued with such gusto. But too many humiliating jabs had been thrust at Vice. If they really had Hankie dead to rights, the cop bars would be jammed to the wee hours tonight.
Edgars went back into the interview room. Buck looked up at him, his eyebrows raised in a question.
The detective shook his head, like no big deal, and sat down. Then he decided, why not tell him. “Apparently, Vice finally caught up to ‘Hankie’ Hanks.”
When he glanced up at Buck, Edgars caught a barely noticeable wince. Then, casually, “You know him?”
Buck colored slightly and said, “Who doesn’t?” before Hackman could put up his hand to stop him.
“Indeed,” Edgars said, but a hunch was already taking form in his gut. One of those threads that keeps winding its way back around. But Edgars had bigger fish to fry first. “We have some questions about keys, Mr. Dearmore.”
“What?” Buck seemed distracted.
Hackman looked at his client with concern. “Are you sure you’re up to this?” Dearmore nodded. Hackman didn’t look so sure.
“Keys,” Edgars repeated.
“I’m not following you,” Dearmore said.
Edgars took a plastic bag out of his pocket and removed a standard office key from it. “This is the key to the president’s office. We got it off Wesner’s key ring this morning. It’s a Do Not Duplicate, and, in fact, your boss only made four copies that we know of. He didn’t even give his bonded guards one. And their Maste
r Keys don’t unlock either of his office doors.”
“What does this have to do with my client?” Hackman asked.
“When we brought Mr. Dearmore in this morning,” Edgars said, glancing at the lawyer, “we did the standard inventory on his personal effects, which included his own key ring. Our in-house locksmith says another of Wesner’s four keys was on it.”
Buck looked like he’d been punched in the guts. His already sallow face drained of color. Hackman glanced over at him, but then went back to the detective.
Edgars spread his hands, the curious investigator. “Problem is, we can’t figure out how it is you have a key to Wesner’s office. I mean, seeing as how he basically treated you ‘like you weren’t there.’ Wasn’t that how you put it?”
Hackman put up a hand to halt the proceedings. “I’d like a moment with my client.”
Edgars tried not to smile as he left the room.
Chapter 97
Looking at him through the viewing window, Erika was struck by how peaceful Tony looked, his face almost boyish. No taut set to his jaw, no chin stuck out at the world. His face and head showed no injuries at all. It was his spine that had been severed when the shotgun shell hit him square in the back, and that wasn’t visible.
They hadn’t performed the autopsy yet, so there were no tell-tale Frankenstein stitches showing under the smooth sheet that covered his body.
Erika had prepared herself for mixed feelings, but his relaxed death mask made her think he had been okay somehow with leaving this world, even after how hard he’d fought everything and everybody. Perhaps there had been peace, at last.
Finally, Erika turned to Detective Douglas, who was standing beside her. “It’s Tony,” she whispered. Douglas nodded to the technician standing beside the Gurney, and she closed the blinds on the window.
Erika sighed with relief and turned to Douglas. “Now what?”
“There’s somebody who wants to see you,” he said.
A few minutes later, when Detective Douglas opened the door to a lawyer/client consultation room, Erika saw an attractive black woman with beaded braids waiting for her inside.
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