You are such a liar. “I’ll be in bed real soon,” she said, infuriated by the tears that filled her eyes. Pride, that was what those were all about. “I’m not at home, though. I brought my red roses with me and came up to my folks’ place.” She didn’t want him looking around his house for roses she’d invented. “I’ll be meetin’ Holly Chandall and her assistant in the morn-in’. That was quite a list you gave me. I hope they all come.”
“They’ll come,” he said. “This state is ready for a change. It’s ready for someone who can make things happen for the right people.”
“If anyone knows what they’re doin’, it’s you. I’ll come by your office tomorrow and see how you’re doin’.” That was something else he detested, being interrupted at his office. He need not worry too much. If she made it there at all, it wouldn’t be until after she had visited her lawyer in Toussaint. “I’ll try to pop in and give you a progress report.”
He cleared his throat. “Call first, would you, sweetheart?”
“Sure I’ll call first. Night, Orville.” She hung up without waiting for him to respond.
Finn waited, but when she remained quiet, he said, “What’s up, Emma? I gathered you and your husband might not always get along, but you don’t sound real with him. It’s like you’re actin’.” He cleared his throat. “It’s none of my business, and I shouldn’t have asked. I happen to think marriages are supposed to be forever is all.”
“Yours wasn’t.” She drank some more.
“No,” he said quietly. “Not my idea.”
“You’re still in love with your wife?”
“Ex-wife. No. Are you in love with your husband? And if things are just a bit shaky right now, do you think you could make them better if you put in the effort? If he’s sending you roses, he must be tryin’ to make a go of things.”
She turned her face away from him. “You don’t understand. He didn’t send any roses—he just thinks one of his flunkies must have done it for him.”
He had the feeling there was more but she’d decided not to tell him.
“I’m sorry, Emma. This isn’t what you came here for, is it? Tell me what’s goin’ on and I promise I’ll be a good listener.”
“I don’t love Orville anymore,” she said, frowning at Finn. “That doesn’t mean it’s your problem. I’m going to divorce him once I can figure out the timing. End of story.”
He didn’t analyze the way her announcement made him feel. “Not the end of the story,” he said. “There’s a lot more, isn’t there?”
Emma jutted her chin. “Okay. Yes, there is. Thanks to my bein’ such an innocent fool when I married him, I’ve made sure I’ll be left with nothin’. Not even the shop. My father begged me not to sign that prenuptial agreement, but I wouldn’t listen. So I’ve got to have a job. I’m not afraid of that, Finn—I’m even kind of excited about it—but I’ve got the worst case of guilt you ever saw. Here’s Orville, gettin’ ready to run for statewide office, and I’m goin’…no. No, sir, damn it all, I don’t owe that snake one thing. He’s treated me like dirt, and I’m gettin’ out before he convinces me I’m so worthless I get afraid to move at all. I already feel I’m paralyzed.” Paralyzed but shaking.
Finn took her glass and set it aside with his own. “I’m listenin’.”
“Finn,” she said. “Everything in my life is upside down. Am I lookin’ for attention from you because I haven’t had much lately? Look at us here. We’ve hardly said a word about Denise. I’m afraid when I think about her, but she should be what’s on my mind.”
“She is on your mind. You have other things on your mind as well, is all. Sure you’re afraid. So am I, and for the same reason. I want you safe. I want all the women in this town safe, and until they pick up the goon who did that to Denise, I’ll be lookin’ in all directions. Billy Meche’s boys are all over town askin’ questions. It isn’t everyone who keeps hypodermics of Xanax and phenobarbital—and other stuff I can’t remember—on hand.”
“I can’t understand why they’re not getting any breaks,” Emma said. “They haven’t even found any of Denise’s clothes.”
“No,” Finn said. “And a canvass of an area like the Willows is pretty useless. With no residents, no vehicles except mine, or none that they found, they keep comin’ back to square one. I think the killer knew you’d be runnin’ past that Honey Bucket—and I think he hoped the door would open the way it did. A lot of speculation on his part, but it worked.”
Emma frowned at him. “It probably wouldn’t have if that old Cadillac hadn’t bumped it.”
“Did you mention that to Billy?” Finn asked. “I did, but they haven’t tracked it down.”
“I did, too. Not having the license number didn’t help, but why would either of us think to check that at the time? Do you think that could have been deliberate?”
Finn blew out a slow breath. He knew better than to ignore something set up to be invisible because it left no impression—like the Cadillac. “From the look of the driver, I would have doubted it. But it almost had to be. I’ll bring it up with Billy again.”
“What was the point of putting Denise there and wanting me to find her?”
“I think the idea was to suggest Secrets had something to do with it.”
“Why?” Emma didn’t even want to think such a thing.
“Don’t you talk about food and diets and exercise and all that woman stuff?”
“I guess we do.”
“It’s a wild guess, but the syrup made me think of it. Could be some man who doesn’t like the way he thinks the club has changed his wife or girlfriend.”
She couldn’t see that. “Denise wasn’t married, and Rusty wouldn’t crush a fly.”
“You’ve got a point,” Finn said. “Folks are gettin’ even more nervous. And they’re insulted that the cops would suggest…well, they think they’re suspects, and they take it personally.”
A question haunted her. “Did he rape her after she was dead?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think Billy went to Rusty and told him what they found at the autopsy?”
“Again, I don’t know.” He did know that Billy hadn’t been as friendly as he used to be before Finn left Pointe Judah.
Another clap of lightning played hide-and-seek outside, and thunder followed almost immediately. “Rusty’s always been a loner. Denise brought him out—socially. At least, he got to be less prickly. I want to get over to the paper and see how he’s making out. There wasn’t a chance to talk at Denise’s house.”
Finn rubbed at his chest with the flat of a hand. “That sounds like the decent thing to do. If it’s okay, I’d like to come with you.” He’d already intended to go alone and try to look around Denise’s office, with or without Rusty’s help.
She looked at him sharply.
“Okay,” he said. “Caught. I’m concerned about you, okay?”
It is so okay. “You’re very kind to me. Finn, do you think the police did a thorough job of searching Denise’s place? They should look at the paper, too.”
“From what Billy said, they took her house apart,” Finn said. “I don’t know about the paper. If Denise was workin’ on a sensitive article, it could be in her office. But don’t forget that she wouldn’t be likely to leave it around for anyone to see, so it probably isn’t there.” He didn’t want Emma to get more involved.
Emma nodded. She looked at her tote bag. The envelope contained photographs she’d been too horrified to look at closely. “It’s getting late,” she said. “We should give this a rest for tonight. I would appreciate your opinion on these, though.”
The thudding in her chest would have been upsetting if she hadn’t known the reason for it. Emma pulled out the manilla envelope and held it on her lap. She touched the still-sore spot beneath her eye.
This wasn’t going to be something simple, Finn thought. She was struggling. He decided to wait quietly until she was ready to talk.
“This was thro
wn through my car window,” she said. “It hit me here.” She put a finger to her face again.
“Did you see who did it?”
“You always react like a cop,” she said, and she wasn’t smiling. “No. He parked a new black van so close to mine I had to get in through the passenger side. Then he reached out and opened my driver’s door. I was so scared he would come after me. Then he threw this at me and drove away. I followed him as far as Circle Road, but knew I couldn’t catch him.”
Finn struggled with what he felt. Get it together. Calm down. “Damn it, Emma, what would you have done if you had caught him? Slapped his hand? Don’t you have any sense? My God, you could have been kidnapped.”
Her skin stung, and she turned cold. “That’s why I stopped following, really. Once I calmed down, I knew I couldn’t confront him.”
“Well, get your reactions straight. You can’t be impetuous when your life is involved.”
“You’re right.” She was a wicked woman, but she kind of liked it that he got mad over what she’d done. “Look at these. Tell me if you think they’ll help me.”
Finn took the envelope and slid out the contents. Four photographs, all close-ups. Four angles on a man and a woman, mostly of the man. In one he sat in a chair wearing only a shirt while a dark-haired woman buried her face in his lap. In the second photo the man heaved upward from a bed, pushed himself inside a female while he fondled her breasts. The woman’s head wasn’t in the picture.
Damn. He wanted to shove the filth back in the envelope and throw it as far as it would go. Looking at Emma would take more courage than he could muster yet.
In picture number three, lover-boy kneeled behind a woman—Finn knew it was a woman from the rounded hips and partly visible breasts. With his hands on her hips the guy appeared to be having a bouncing good time.
The final shot froze Finn. This time Orville Lachance was masturbating while watching a partner use a vibrator.
He raised his face to see Emma. She stared back, her eyes glittering.
“You’ve got him,” he said, surprised by his own rusty voice. “Or someone has. These are all posed so you can’t see who the woman is.”
15
This time she looked at them.
One by one, taking her time, Emma studied the photos.
“Do you know where they were taken?” Finn said.
“No.”
“Are you doin’ okay?” He could tell she wasn’t.
“This is the man I’m goin’ to divorce. Why do these pictures make me feel so bad?”
“Because he betrayed you.” One day he would tell her his own story of betrayal and what it took to deal with it, to continue dealing with it, but not now. “I think the pictures are goin’ to make things easier for you. I’m sure they will. Orville will do anything rather than have those spread around.” He would like to know who had the originals and what they intended to do with them.
“I don’t want his money, I just want him to let me go quietly.” Emma stood up. “I’ll take these to my lawyer tomorrow. I have an appointment with him.” She lifted her tote, and crammed the photos and envelope inside separately. If she didn’t want him anymore, he could go to his lady-friend permanently. Who cared? “I’ll be on my way. Thanks for puttin’ up with me. You’ve helped me. I couldn’t seem to face the truth on my own, and I wouldn’t show those to anyone who knows Orville well.”
Loyal to the end. People like Emma were too rare.
“That’s a lie,” she said. “I’m too embarrassed to share them with folks I’ve known for years. Those…things feel like a slap in the face. And it’s like being told you don’t measure up.”
Gently, Finn took the bag from her and put the photos back into the envelope. Then he set the bag back on the floor. “Sit down, Emma. You’re shaken up, and I don’t want you to drive right now.”
What had she thought? That if she didn’t want him, he shouldn’t want anyone else? Their marriage had been over for a long time. If Orville hadn’t changed so much, they would have been okay. He needed her for his image, but he’d fallen out of love with her….
“All I want is to forget everythin’ for a few hours.” She stared at Finn, remembered her hair and ruffled it with her fingers. “I’d better get goin’.” If she cried, it wouldn’t be here.
“Don’t think I’m comin’ on to you,” he said in a voice that brought her closer to those tears. “But why don’t you stay here? I’ve got plenty of bedrooms. I’ll drive your car down here. It’s not a good idea to leave it by the highway.”
“Thanks, but I can’t stay.”
And he couldn’t let her go back home alone. “Please, for me, stay here. You’ll be safe, and I won’t worry.”
Her expression changed. Instead of lost in thought, she looked aware, speculative.
“Hey, you’ll be safe from me, too.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Of course I’d be safe from you.” Orville had needed a woman who could excite him, who didn’t shy away from experimenting. He found her dull, and Finn had to figure that, too.
“If you do go up there, I’ll have to go, too,” he said, doing his best to sound playful. “Even if I have to sleep in that truck.”
“I want to lie down, that’s all.”
“I know, so quit arguin’ with me and stay. I’ll see to your car.”
“I’ll do it,” she said at once and lifted her tote.
“No you won’t do it.”
“At least let me come with you. It’s so dark out there.”
He let the remark pass, didn’t even roll his eyes. The lady was overwrought. “You won’t come with me. You’ll get soaked again. You can wait by the front door.”
She did as he told her, watched him stride uphill to the highway with the gleam of rain on his dark windbreaker. He brought the car down and wasn’t satisfied with parking it in front of the house, but drove it around the side and out of sight.
As if he didn’t want anyone to know she was there. She stared into the rain. He was the smart one—she shouldn’t want anyone to know, either.
“Done,” he said, running through the door and taking off the wet jacket. He kicked aside the loafers he’d put on his feet.
“Okay,” she whispered, still looking outside.
Finn closed the door and took her hand in his once more. “I’d give you the room I’m sleeping in at the moment. It’s got the best view, but… I don’t like changing sheets.”
They both laughed.
“So you get one of the rooms at the back. The sheets are clean in there.”
“I guess that makes up my mind, then.” She sounded normal, didn’t she? Emma’s insides trembled. “I’ll take the room at the back.” An unnatural excitement made her feel giggly, and scared—as much of herself as of Finn.
She had her tote bag in hand, and at the bottom lay a clean outfit but nothing to sleep in. The T-shirt she had on would have to do.
Finn switched on the lights in a plain room with pale blue walls and a white chenille bedspread. One blue-and-white rag rug lay beside the white-painted metal bed, and another bigger one in the middle of the open floor. A chest of drawers and a straight-backed cane chair stood against one wall, and that was it. The door, like the others she’d seen upstairs, had a small stained-glass fanlight above.
“The bathroom’s in there.” He pointed. “And believe it or not, that bed is darn comfortable.”
“You mentioned the room you’re sleepin’ in at the moment,” she said. “Don’t you always sleep in the same room?”
He looked at his bare feet, but she could see him smiling. “Nope. I sleep in a bedroom till I need clean sheets, then I move to the next. There are four rooms, so I can go about four weeks without changin’ sheets. Then I change all the beds and start over.”
“You… Look at me, Finn, not at your feet.” He angled his head and showed her a wry face. “You mean it! That wouldn’t work if you lived with someone else.”
“No,” he agreed,
serious again. “It wouldn’t work then.”
She deserved the prize for stupid comments. She held her tote in both hands. “Look, I honestly don’t need to stay. I’m imposin’.”
“Try to leave and you’ll be imposin’. Do you need anythin’?”
“No, thank you—but I’ll mess up your sheet rotation.”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Toothbrush? Toothpaste? There’s soap in there, and shampoo. Clean towels. Would you like one of my T-shirts to sleep in?”
She flushed. “I was going to wear this one. If you can spare a clean one, it would be nice. I’ll wash it for you and get it back.”
“Did you know that almost everything you say has a kind of apology hangin’ around in it?”
“No,” she said. “You’re just imaginin’ things. I may be a small-town person, but I’ve got plenty of confidence.” Some times she did.
“I’ll say good-night, then,” Finn told her. “If you need me, just call.”
He walked across the landing to his own room and left the door open a crack. After taking out a T-shirt, he retraced his steps and put it through her door. Back again with the bedside lamp on, he confronted his jumbled mess of a bed and scratched his head.
And paced. Took off his jeans again and paced some more.
With a single ripping tug, he yanked the top sheet off, balled it up and threw it in a corner with enough force to do a major league pitcher proud.
Any smug ideas that Emma Lachance had come here tonight because she wanted his body were likely to get him what he deserved: trouble.
But she surely hadn’t come because she had designs on that sparse little room across the hall. For some reason she trusted him. She had taken him into her deepest confidence.
He put out the lights and stretched out on the bottom sheet. When he turned his head, the pillow felt damp.
She was divorcing Mr. Mayor.
If that didn’t switch on every warning bell in his body, he needed an overhaul. The role of rebound boy didn’t appeal.
With a revolution and a thump, he landed on his stomach, hooked his feet over the bottom of the mattress and gripped piping through the sheet with his fingernails.
Body of Evidence Page 16