by Merit Clark
“Hennessy?” She didn’t turn her head. Her eyes, which he knew to be green, looked black, like a raven’s. He touched her forehead. A vein throbbed beneath the pale skin under his fingertips. “You’ve been brave all along, haven’t you? I know that about you, Hennessy. I haven’t been around but I do know that. It’s not cowardly to die. In fact, I think that takes the most courage of all.”
She didn’t answer, but a single tear slid out of her left eye and ran down her temple, into her hair. Her dark hair used to be long, lush, and lustrous. Now it was dull, matted, and provided such a thin covering that he could clearly make out the shape of her skull. She was so frail that his hands looked huge as he gently stroked her face. It would be so easy to twist her neck, cover her mouth, and stop her heart. If only he knew what she wanted.
Evan spent the next few days taking long runs past the elegant houses on Seventh Avenue Parkway and through the familiar streets of his childhood. It was Evan who washed Hennessy’s hair and gently cleaned the crust that built up around her eyes. The nurse, teary-eyed, patted his arm and told him that she’d never seen a brother so attentive. He was sickened by the nurse and glad they wouldn’t need her much longer.
In the dining room each evening Jessie sat at the head of the table with him to her right. There were always three courses: a soup or salad, a main course, and dessert. For the first time in his life Jessie seemed to relish conversation with him. She took a genuine interest and asked Evan about his life back east. When he talked she watched him rapt, her eyes wide, almost breathless with delight. In return, he let her take comfort from the things she loved and he didn’t judge her. He never forced topics on Jessie that caused her distress until the time came, after sitting with his sister for four long days, that he had his answer.
Evan waited until after the dishes from the main course had been cleared and they were having their coffee. “How did you know when it was time with Dad?”
“Oh, that was a terrible thing.” Jessie twisted her napkin, a heavy, cream-colored linen with a scalloped detail around the edge. She blinked at him, afraid.
“You were very brave. Hennessy’s more like you than you realize, you know. She’s brave, too.”
“Do you really think so?”
Did he imagine it or was there an edge to her voice? “This could go on for a long while. I’ve done some research.”
Jessie nodded.
He chose his words carefully. “I know you will do whatever this demands of you and that’s the difficulty. How do we know what needs to be done and what’s merely a result of longing?”
His mother seemed to relax and let out a deep breath, as if she’d been holding it for a very long time. “Yes. That’s it exactly. I knew you would understand. We all long for things.” She took a sip of her after-dinner cordial, a delicate stemmed glass of honey-colored Sauternes.
“Longing is treacherous.” He watched her.
“It is the most treacherous thing. No one can be held accountable for their longing.”
“They can’t, can they?”
“No.” She lifted her napkin from her lap and folded it neatly before setting it on the table—Jessie’s signal that dinner was finished. She picked up her glass and stood. “It’s so cold out. I think I’ll finish this in front of the fire.”
Evan looked up at her. “Do you need to know that I forgive you?”
She shook her head slightly. “Let’s not speak of it. It is enough to know that you understand. That you truly do understand.”
“I truly do.”
“I’m glad you’re here, Evan.” Jessie placed her hand on his shoulder and left it there for a long minute, the pressure firm. Evan could still remember how warm her hand felt, like a benediction. He liked to imagine the experience created a bond between the two of them, mother and son, although they never mentioned that night again.
How had everything unraveled? Evan fingered the tassel on a bolster pillow. It started with Brice. No, with the sister; what was her name again? Monica? No, that wasn’t it. He tried to get comfortable on the overly embellished bed. Undressing and slipping between the sheets was unthinkable. He’d just nap a little until it was time for his run.
It had all started someplace before memory, before Corie or the singer–actress or even Hennessy. He was born into a situation of such longing and tension, it was unbearable. An ordinary man would have broken under the pressure long ago. But Evan was no ordinary man. He would begin again. He would rebuild, and what he created would be even better than what he had before. He’d been looking at it all wrong. This was an opportunity for a new beginning and he’d almost been too blind to see it. Evan reached for the glass of wine on the nightstand and drained it. Then he twisted the brass knob on the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. Evan found it comforting. He dozed and his sleep was dreamless.
Chapter 49
The next morning, Jack was in Dani’s office at eight. He was joined by Mike, Serena, and two other detectives, Scalamandre and Warren. Serena took one of the chairs facing the lieutenant’s desk and Jack habitually stood.
Scalamandre and Warren had talked to Alex Cantrell’s roommates who confirmed the young man was home by two thirty a.m.
“They seem credible?” Jack asked.
Warren shrugged. “They don’t have to be. We have Cantrell’s car caught on not one but two security cameras near the university. At 2:17 and 2:23 to be exact.”
“Kid’s got no record,” Jack said. “No gun registrations. Came in voluntarily, gave us prints, DNA, whatever we asked for.”
Dani had reading glasses perched on the end of her nose and she looked at Jack over the rim. “So now we’ve got two murderers? What else we know about Vangie Perez?”
Mike looked at Jack, who leaned against a beige, metal filing cabinet along one wall. “I talked to her husband in Texas, like you asked.”
Jack nodded. “And?”
“When she first started spending time with Evan last spring, she used the excuse of business trips. She flew back and forth for a while, and then in May, she left for good. Left a four-year-old daughter, too.”
Mike paused to let that sink in before continuing. “When I made the death notification her husband didn’t sound surprised. He told me she was determined to claw herself out of the trailer park, no matter who she hurt in the process. His exact words. Husband hasn’t set foot out of Texas in years, though. And has tons of alibis.”
“I collected a DNA sample from Len Funderburk,” Jack said. “That and the sample Evan provided are being compared to the unknown from Monique Lawson’s murder. Tiffany ran it Saturday. The reports should be on my desk by now.”
Dani nodded. “If one of them killed the sister, that could give them motive to get rid of Brice. What about Vangie? Who has motive to kill her?”
“Evan,” Jack said.
“Corie,” Serena said. Jack kept leaning, but he tensed. She continued quickly. “But the way Vangie was killed suggests a man. Although, she was cleaning the crime scene.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Mike said. “Corie and Evan share the same alibi. They were both at the wine tasting at the time Vangie was murdered. What about the guy in custody? Shaun O’Dwyer? He had her body in his truck. His knife was the murder weapon. The tape she was restrained with came from his service station.”
“May have,” Serena said.
“There was nothing under her nails,” Jack said. “She was restrained without a struggle. That points to Evan.”
“Who couldn’t be in two places at one time,” Dani said.
Jack shoved his hands into the pockets of his gray dress slacks. “Evan told me at the wine tasting that he’d left Vangie alone at the cabin. He didn’t specify how he’d left her.” The concession pained him. He wanted responsibility squarely where he felt it belonged: on Evan.
“So it’s possible Evan left her restrained and alive while he went to the tasting.” Mike looked at Jack. “You said yourself Evan’s a selfish son of a bitc
h, that you called him on it, leaving her there helpless at his beck and call.”
“Maybe this O’Dwyer guy goes by the cabin, finds her lying there helpless and naked, and can’t help himself,” Detective Scalamandre said.
“Corie told me Evan had a vasectomy,” Jack said. “Whoever had sex with Vangie wore a condom.” He hoped Serena wouldn’t ask when exactly Corie told him about the vasectomy. At least not in front of the lieutenant.
“Did we get skin cells or DNA from the condom?” Scalamandre asked.
“We didn’t recover the condom,” Serena said.
“This Shaun O’Dwyer’s got a sheet?” Dani asked.
Jack answered. “Laundry list of offenses but nothing violent. Car theft, possession, larceny.”
“This a step up?” Dani asked.
Jack shrugged. “Shaun saw Evan take Vangie to the cabin Friday night. Then Evan stopped by Shaun’s station to get the Mercedes Saturday afternoon on his way to Denver. Shaun knew she was gonna be there alone.”
Detective Warren spoke. “You’re suggesting Evan left a trail of breadcrumbs for Shaun to find Vangie, knowing he wouldn’t be able to resist?”
“Evan also got him high,” Jack said. “We all know what meth does to a guy’s sex drive, and there was a sizable baggie of the shit in Shaun’s possession.”
“If this is all true, Evan’s a pretty brilliant manipulator,” Mike said.
“Manipulation’s not a crime,” Dani said.
“Providing drugs is,” Jack said. “Conspiracy to commit murder is. Assault is.”
Dani took off her glasses, sat back in her chair, and looked at Jack. “Evan’s creating a lot of static. He plans to sue the department. His girlfriend was persecuted and we stood around picking our noses while the real killer ran free. Now she’s dead. If we go after him we better have our ducks in a row. Your assumption is that the two murders are connected. Prove it. Find the link.”
“The link is Evan. I’m sure of it. I just need some time.”
Dani rubbed the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. “Jack, if we’re going to successfully go after someone as high profile as Evan we need a lot more than your hunches.”
At the mention of Evan’s status Jack’s pulse escalated. He couldn’t keep the sarcastic edge out of his voice. “It’s not a hunch that he pushed his wife down the stairs. Corie heard Evan threaten Brice. If Vangie died because of what she knew about Brice’s murder, how do we know Evan’s not going to try to go after Corie again?”
Dani wasn’t impressed. “Stay away from Evan Markham until you have something real.”
Jack gave up on being reasonable. “Right. Of course. Let the wife get killed while we bend over backward to preserve Evan’s reputation.”
Dani’s smile was mean. “I’m concerned you’re developing a blind spot here, Jack. You sure your old friendship with Corie isn’t influencing you? Maybe you should recuse yourself.”
An awkward silence descended. Jack could feel the other detectives’ eyes on him. He wouldn’t give in, although he felt himself deflate a little. The lieutenant was bluffing. She had to be. “I’m not making up the fact that Evan assaulted a woman with a knife.”
“Dropped and useless.” Dani bit off the words.
“Corie told me that Evan tried to use a knife on her during sex play, too. Now his girlfriend’s cut up? That seem like a big coincidence to anyone else?”
“Jack, you have got to be the most stubborn detective I’ve ever worked with. And that’s saying something.” Dani put her glasses back on and picked up a piece of paper from her desk. She was obviously ready for this conversation to be over. “This is all speculation. Give me something real I can use against Evan and, trust me, I’ll use it.”
“You sure?” Jack asked.
“You got a death wish?” Mike asked Jack after they left Dani’s office. “Or a new career lined up?”
“I’m beginning to wonder . . .” Jack hesitated. “You think I have a blind spot?”
“I think it’s about five-foot-seven with a really nice head of blond hair.” There was a pause before Mike added, “I’ve been there. We all have.”
“Why’s it they have to turn everything into a soap opera? Serena, Tiffany, all the women. How about you? You think I’m doing my job?”
“Tiffany’s not a reliable source. She has the hots for you herself.”
“Nah. We’re just friends. And you didn’t answer my question.”
“Buddy, as a detective you’re one of the best. But when it comes to women you’re pretty dumb.”
That got a smile. “You’re giving me advice about women?”
“Yeah. Pretty weird, huh?”
“I’m thinking I should go buy a lottery ticket, because winning the Powerball wouldn’t be any stranger than taking romantic advice from you.”
Mike lowered his voice. “Speak of the devil . . .”
Jack followed Mike’s gaze. Tiffany was sitting in the visitor chair opposite his desk. She looked up at Jack when they walked in.
“How come you don’t answer your phone?” Tiffany asked.
“I was busy committing career suicide. What’ve you got for me?”
“In this hand,” she held up a paper, “the DNA from the second condom in Brice Shaughnessy’s house. In the other, the comparison to the unknown from Charlotte.” She brandished that in her right hand and smiled.
“Am I going to like any of this?” Jack asked.
“You tell me. Which one do you want first?”
“Left hand,” Mike said.
Tiffany glanced at Mike for the first time. “That’s not the interesting one.”
“Tiff. Seriously,” Jack said. “I’ve worked eight straight days. I’m not in the mood to play games.”
She looked back at Jack. “DNA from the second condom is a match for Alex Cantrell. No surprise, huh?” She shrugged, wrinkled her nose, and set the report on Jack’s desk.
“And the second?” Jack prompted, his teeth clenched.
“You have a match.”
“Seriously?” Mike took a step forward but Tiffany snatched the paper away out of his reach.
“Hold on. At least let me have one tiny moment of drama. The unknown sample, taken from vomit at the scene of Monique Lawson’s murder, is a match to Leonard Funderburk.”
Mike gave an excited whistle and reached for the report. Tiffany looked pleased. Jack felt an overwhelming surge of frustration. “Fuck.” With one sweeping motion he knocked a pile of manila folders off his desk.
Their surprised looks only pissed him off more.
“I’m not cleaning that up,” Mike said.
Chapter 50
“What did you want to talk about that you had to drag me to this place for breakfast?” Evan had made his escape from Jessie’s before it was light and now sat in a coffee shop across from Deputy Christopher O’Dwyer. The restaurant in Fairplay was called the Bear Paw, but as far as Evan was concerned, it should have been called the Bear Scat based on the quality of their offerings.
Chris’s eyes darted to his left, scanning the crowded dining room. “The county put me on leave. That’s why I’m not in uniform. In case you were wondering.”
Evan hadn’t been. He leaned back with his arm extended along the top of the cracked vinyl booth. He drummed his fingers. “And?”
“These detectives came up from Denver.” Chris lowered his voice. “They interviewed Shaun. Well, the man did. His partner went snooping around the motor pool, asking to see their records. What if they find out I didn’t do the wellness check? I’m screwed.”
“What did the detectives find out?”
The waitress came with Evan’s coffee. She set a bowl of small plastic tubs containing something that wasn’t half-and-half in the center of the table.
All Chris seemed to care about was his brother. “Shaun needs help.”
“Yes, he certainly does.” Evan pushed his coffee away.
“I mean he needs a lawyer
. They found Shaun with all those drugs and his knife was used to kill her.” Chris scrubbed his face with his hands. “I still can’t believe it. He must have been high out of his mind. Shaun would never hurt anyone.”
“It’s my fault.” Evan shrugged. “I shouldn’t have mentioned that my friend was staying there by herself. Shaun knew I would be gone.”
“I can’t lose my job, Evan.”
“Ah. It’s not brotherly love after all. What a shock.”
“I’ve—we’ve done a lot for you.”
Evan started to slide out of the booth.
“Wait. That’s it? You’re not going to help?” Chris sounded like a whiny little boy.
“I thought you had information. Since you don’t—”
“They know I helped you the other night.”
Evan sat back again. “How do they know that?”
“That detective—Fariel—he figured it out. He listed the chronology of events like someone had given him a fucking program.”
“Do you think I killed her?”
“No.” Chris threw up his hands in a defeated gesture and then dropped them in his lap. “But I can’t believe Shaun would do it either.”
“Belief is tiresome, Chris. It takes much less energy to simply acknowledge reality.”
“So I’m supposed to throw my brother under the bus?”
The waitress came for their order. Chris asked for something called a skillet, with various over-salted, chemically enhanced breakfast meats, cheese, eggs, and potatoes. Evan declined.
After she left Evan asked, “Why would I do it?” He was curious to hear what Chris would say.
“I didn’t mean to offend you.”
For the second time in as many days, Evan felt sad. He noted the feeling and filed it away. “I’m getting a divorce.”
“Oh. That’s too bad. I didn’t know.”
Evan took a deep breath through his nose and slowly let it out. Smelled grease, onions, and burnt coffee. “Why would you? Here’s the thing: dead, Vangie became public knowledge. I didn’t want Corie to find out ever, and certainly not like this.”