Lying With Strangers

by Jonnie Jacobs

  “You must think I’m a nutcase.”

  “No, not at all.” Chloe wasn’t sure how much Diana wanted her to know, but with the reporters out front it was obvious something was going on. “I saw the news,” she said.

  “I’m sorry I brought you into all this. If you want to quit, I’ll understand.”

  “No, I don’t want to quit. Not at all.” Chloe wasn’t sure if she should be friendly and supportive, or say as little as possible. This was a situation that Rose, despite her lectures about good behavior and treating others well, hadn’t covered.

  “Can I do anything for you?” Chloe asked.

  Diana shook her head. “I’m in shock, I think. Making this mess was stupid, but I was angry, and hurt. It was like I couldn’t stop myself.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “It’s just so awful. So unbelievable.” Diana’s voice sounded oddly disembodied, like someone talking in their sleep.

  “First off, I learn that my husband had been using a stolen identity. For years. Then I learned that he’s a murder suspect. And now they’re saying he was a corrupt DA. That he tampered with evidence and tried to hire a hit man.”

  Diana smoothed the couch cushion with the flat of her hand. “I’m having trouble accepting it. I thought Roy was as honest as they come. Honest and honorable.”

  Chloe started picking books up off the floor.

  “He wouldn’t take gifts from anyone he did business with,” Diana continued. “Wouldn’t let others pay for lunch. As a DA he had to be above suspicion, he’d tell me.”

  “He must have been a good father,” Chloe said. “I can tell from the way Jeremy talks about him. And he had to have been a good man for you to marry him.”

  “You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” Diana stood. “Leave the mess. I’ll clean it in the morning. What movie did you see?”

  “I didn’t. I went to visit a friend instead. And then ran into that reporter, Joel Richards.”

  “Ran into him?”

  Chloe wondered if she’d done something wrong. “I think he was following me.”

  “Better him than the sharks out front, I guess. Are they still there?”

  “There are a couple of vans. You sure you don’t want me to pick up in here?”

  “I’m sure. I’m going to head upstairs.”

  “Okay.” Chloe started for her room, then turned. “Oh, I almost forget. Joel gave me an envelope to give to you. Some photos his cousin took, from the party the night that girl was killed. You know, a long time ago.”

  “The night my husband murdered her, you mean.” Diana sounded weary. “There’s no point tiptoeing around the truth.”

  “I’m sorry for all that’s happened. You don’t deserve this.”

  “Thank you. Unfortunately, life isn’t always fair.”

  That was what Rose used to say, too. But Chloe had learned that lesson all on her own.

  Chapter 38

  Diana lay awake most of the night, tossing and turning and, above all, fretting. She was, in turns, sad, worried, angry, and confused. She tried to shut her mind down but that proved impossible. She tried counting backward from one hundred, only to find herself again dissecting every aspect of Roy’s betrayal while the numbers faded into oblivion. Deep, cleansing breaths caused her mind to race faster, not slow down. And she could no more systematically relax muscle groups than she could fly to the moon. There was simply no quieting the torment that held her hostage.

  From somewhere in the tangled web of dark thoughts sprang the darkest thought of all—that if Roy had hired a hit man, then she herself might have been the intended victim.

  Oh, God. Had he been planning to kill her?

  She sat up with a start, her heart pounding wildly.

  No, not possible.

  The very idea was unthinkable.

  But there it was and it wouldn’t go away.

  Killing her made no sense. She and Roy had a good marriage, a child they both adored. Diana had no money of her own, so there was certainly no financial benefit to having her dead.

  Or was there?

  Her breath caught. Hadn’t they purchased a life insurance policy for her when she was pregnant with Jeremy? It would help cover the expense of full-time help in the event anything happened to her. Diana had forgotten about the policy. She wasn’t sure Roy had even kept up with the premiums, but he’d never mentioned canceling the policy either.

  He’d already gone through a large part of their savings and borrowed against his own policy.

  A wave of nausea rose up in Diana’s throat. God, no. It wasn’t possible.

  Or was it?

  She glanced at the bedside clock. The numerals glowed green in the dark, like the eyes of some alien beast: 3:19. In another few hours it would be time to get up. Surely with the light of day she’d see the flaw in her thinking, but for now, the pieces fell so solidly into place that she couldn’t imagine any other explanation.

  Shivering, she inched farther away from Roy’s side of the bed. She remembered the nights she’d lain beside him, finding solace and strength in his soft breathing and the amorphous shape of his body under the covers. When she tried to call up that sense of calm now, she could only envision a monster’s face—eyes hollow and mocking, mouth twisted in a cruel sneer. It was silly to let her imagination run away from her, but the image so frightened her she didn’t dare put her hand out to prove to herself there was nothing in the bed next to her but a cold pillow.

  Finally, Diana leapt out of bed and turned on the light. The image of the monster vanished, but not the unsettled feeling in her chest.

  She grabbed her fleece robe from the back of the chair and slipped it on, then went to the window. The reporters were gone, but they’d be back. How long before one of them would come to the same conclusion she had?

  She filled the tub with hot water, slipped off her robe and nightgown, and stepped in. It had been ages since she’d taken the time for a soak, but she’d always found baths calming. And God knew, she was in need of calming. She swirled the water with her hand, then leaned back, closed her eyes, and tried to envision herself floating on a cloud high above the earth.

  When she opened her eyes again, the water was tepid and the sky was no longer dark. She jumped out of the tub and dried herself off. Had she actually fallen asleep? She checked the time. She must have.

  She was lucky she hadn’t drowned.

  *****

  Allison called a little after eight. Diana was in the basement looking for a plunger.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  “I’d have to have actually slept in order for that to happen.” Diana didn’t mention her nap in the full tub. Allison would certainly have lectured her and might even have called adult protective services. That was all Diana needed at this point. The loony lady who was having a nervous breakdown.

  “Things will get better, Diana. You have to remember that.”

  “It would be hard for them to get worse.”

  “So what have you been doing instead of sleeping?” Allison asked, trying for levity.

  “Right now I’m trying to unclog a drain.” Diana’s relaxing bath had become this morning’s headache. The drain had been slow for months, but Diana used the tub so infrequently that fixing it hadn’t been a priority. This morning it hadn’t drained at all. She wished now she’d called a plumber when she first noticed the problem.

  “Leave it for Len.”

  “I can’t ask him to do that.”

  “Why not? He likes to feel useful. He’ll fix it when he drops Jeremy off. I’ve got a meeting this morning—an out-of-town guest is speaking at the school. It’s a must-attend function I simply can’t get out of. The department chair would have my hide if I tried.”

  “I can come get Jeremy. Len doesn’t have to bring him here.”

  “But that won’t fix your drain. Really, he won’t mind. He should be there in about ten or fifteen minutes.”

  “Thanks. I appreci
ate that.”

  She felt uncomfortable, having Len deal with her cold bath water, but she doubted she’d be able to fix it herself. Minor plumbing problems had been Roy’s job.

  Roy had taken such good care of her, gone out of his way to please her. Could he actually have wanted to kill her?

  *****

  When Diana got downstairs, Chloe was already cleaning up the wreckage from the night before.

  “You don’t need to do that,” she said. It was embarrassing enough that Chloe had witnessed the mess. Diana still couldn’t believe she’d lost it so totally.

  “I’m happy to. And then, when you have time, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

  Diana’s whole body tensed. Did Chloe want to quit, after all?

  Diana couldn’t blame her. Who wanted to live in the harsh glare of the media spotlight and rampant speculation? And Diana’s acting like a lunatic couldn’t have helped. But Diana’s new job started on Monday. And she had too much on her mind already. She simply couldn’t deal with finding someone new right now.

  “Is it urgent?”

  Chloe appeared to hesitate. “Not urgent, no. But I need to talk to you soon.”

  “This afternoon then. In the meantime, I have some errands I’d like you to run.”

  “Of course!”

  They were legitimate errands, all of them, but Diana also wanted some time alone with Jeremy to explain about his dad. It wasn’t going to be easy. She had no intention of spelling out every last sordid detail, but she had to prepare him for what he might hear from other kids.

  Diana wrote out a list for Chloe, then set out the fixings for French toast and bacon, a meal she knew would please Jeremy. She set a place for Len, as well.

  *****

  Jeremy arrived home clutching a large teddy bear in a 49ers jersey and helmet. “Len gave it to me,” Jeremy said, grinning.

  “The distributor is one of my clients,” Len explained.

  “Did you say thank you, Jeremy?”

  “He sure did.” Len patted Jeremy on the head. “We had a good time, didn’t we, sport?” He turned to Diana. “Allison tells me you’ve got a clogged drain. Let me take a look.”

  “The upstairs tub. I hate to have you—”

  “Don’t be silly. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes.”

  “I was just about to fix Jeremy French toast, would you like some?”

  “Sure. We didn’t get much breakfast since Allison had to get to work.”

  Jeremy followed Len upstairs and Diana began frying the bacon. She didn’t want to start the French toast until everyone was ready to eat. While the bacon sizzled, she picked up the envelope Chloe had handed her last night. The photographs from Joel’s cousin he’d told her about.

  It was kind of him to remember, but at the moment she was more interested in what Roy had been up to in the weeks before his death than what he’d done twenty years ago. Still, she took a quick look.

  There were probably a couple dozen photos of college-age kids partying up a storm. Some were posed shots of small groups mugging for the camera, while others were candids, a number of them blurry and unfocused. As Diana flipped through them, she found one of Roy, or Brian as he was known then, sitting by himself on a log with a sour expression on his face. She couldn’t tell if he was objecting to having his picture taken, as he often did, or if he was in a lousy mood. Diana recognized Miranda Saxton in a couple of the photos, including one where Diana was also able to pick Roy out of the group. So he hadn’t been off sulking the entire night.

  Kids laughing. Kids eating and drinking. Kids smoking. Photos that would be interesting to the people who’d been there that night, but not to anyone else. She was about to set them aside when she flipped to a photo of three bare-chested, grinning guys, their eyes glazed from too much to drink.

  She did a double-take. Len? She held the photo under a light and looked more closely. Yes, definitely Len. She would have recognized him from the broad sweep of his forehead even if she hadn’t previously seen photos of him as a younger man.

  Len had been at the bonfire? Anger sparked in her chest. He hadn’t said a word to her about being there despite their clearing of the air the other day over coffee.

  She’d begged him to tell her the truth about Brian and she’d thought he had. He certainly hadn’t painted the most flattering picture. Why hold back the fact that he’d seen Brian at the bonfire?

  She turned off the burner under the bacon, and examined the photo again. Len was holding something out for the camera—a string or necklace of some sort. She grabbed her reading glasses for a closer look. It appeared to be a metal medallion about the size of a nickel strung on a leather cord.

  The significance took a moment to register, and then she felt her pulse pound in her ear. She phoned Joel. He answered sleepily.

  “I know it’s early,” Diana said by way of apology. “I’m sorry to bother you.”

  “No, that’s fine. I thought you’d be avoiding the press right now.”

  “Chloe gave me the photos,” she said, ignoring his comment.

  “I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to see them.”

  “Tell me again what your cousin said about a scuffle that night. Something about some of the guys teasing Brian.”

  “Right. They tried to get him riled by teasing him about being a mama’s boy and wearing some charm that was hers. They kept grabbing for it. I wasn’t there, of course, but I can imagine the kind of comments they’d make.” Joel paused. “And I can understand how Brian would feel upset.”

  Diana caught a hint of emotion in Joel’s voice. She wondered if he’d been subjected to similar teasing at one time. “None of the other guys wore medallions or charms?” she asked. It seemed to her that kids today, of both sexes, wore all kinds of jewelry.

  “I’d have to ask my cousin, but I’d guess not or they wouldn’t have made such a big deal of it.”

  If Len had taken the medallion, if Brian no longer had it when he and Miranda left the party . . .

  Behind her, Diana heard Len and Jeremy coming down the stairs. She thanked Joel and hung up abruptly. Her hands were trembling.

  “All fixed,” Len said, then caught the expression on Diana’s face. “Is something the matter? You look upset.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were at the bonfire the night Miranda Saxton disappeared?”

  Len stopped short. “What are you talking about?”

  “You were there, weren’t you?”

  “You’re really coming out of left field here, Diana.”

  She knew she should shut up, but she was too angry. “You and your buddies. You were teasing Brian, weren’t you?”

  “It was a party, for Christ’s sake,” Len growled. “We were having some good-natured fun. Not that Brian understood fun. He was a straight arrow even then.”

  “So you teased and taunted him?”

  Len went to the sink and ran himself a glass of water. “You keep pushing me for the lowdown on what he was like,” Len said, turning to face her. “I’ve tried to spare your feelings, but the truth is, he was a pain. Pranced about with a stupid charm around his neck like he was some hot-shit Indian chieftain or something. Oh, so special. And Miranda, she was all gaga over a fucking townie. He was screwing a senator’s daughter, acting like he belonged. Like he was one of the crowd. Sure we razzed him a little. He deserved it.”

  Diana glanced at Jeremy, who was watching, bewildered. She was glad he didn’t know they were talking about his father. “That charm,” she said. “When you were teasing Brian, did you take it from him?”

  Len looked uncomfortable. “That was a long time ago, Diana. What does it matter?”

  “It’s important.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “The police found it,” she said hotly. “With Miranda Saxton’s remains.”

  Confusion flickered across Len’s face. “What? Who told you that? Roy? I thought you didn’t even know Roy was Bri
an until after he died.”

  “It doesn’t matter how I found out,” Diana said. “It’s a fact. The charm and leather cord were found with her remains.”

  The muscle in Len’s cheek tensed. “If it’s true, it’s strong evidence he killed her.”

  “Except Roy didn’t have the charm by the end of the night. You did.” She wanted to hear him admit it.

  Len set his glass on the counter, untouched. There was a darkness to his expression she’d not seen before. A steeliness in his eyes that unnerved her.

  “Like I told Roy,” Len said, “it was going to be his word against mine. Now that he’s gone, it’s my word, period.”

  Diana’s heart slammed against her ribs. “You admit it then? You took Brian’s charm?”

  “Wherever you’re going with this, Diana, you need to drop it.”

  She shook her head, stepped back a pace. “I can’t. Don’t you see what—”

  Len laughed coldly and started pacing around the room, flinging his arms in the air. “God, you’re as stubborn as he is. He wanted me to turn myself in, if you can believe it. Came to me a couple of weeks ago with an ultimatum. Like he was in any position to tell me to do the right thing. Mr. Rising Star DA with a stolen identity who’s also the prime suspect in a murder. You think anyone was going to believe him? His whole career would have been down the tubes. The only sensible option was for him to keep his mouth shut.”

  Despite the coolness of the morning Diana felt flushed. Perspiration layered the skin at the back of her neck and under her arms. She had always been fond of Len, had stood up for him when Roy was dismissive. Now, finally, she understood what Roy had seen.

  “But Roy didn’t kill her, you did. You’re not going to get away with this.”

  Len raised an eyebrow. A slow sneer spread over his face. “In fact,” he said smugly, “it looks like I am.”

  Rage swelled inside her, hot and sharp. “It’s not just Roy’s word against yours.”

  Len laughed. “What? You think your accusations are going to amount to anything?”

  Diana shook the handful of photos. “I have a picture of you with the charm. It was taken the night Miranda Saxton was murdered.”