The River Is Dark

by Joe Hart

  “I wasn’t until yesterday morning.”

  Phelps glanced up from the paperwork. “You’re saying you knew nothing about the insurance policy?”

  “That’s right,” Liam said, holding the agent’s gaze. Phelps closed a folder and sat back in his chair.

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  “It was a shock, that’s for sure,” Liam said, trying to keep his teeth from clenching in anger. “I’m not keeping the money, if you’re insinuating that I killed them because of the policy. I’m researching a charity to give it to at this time. You can also speak to my brother’s lawyer. I think he would give a statement regarding his opinion on whether or not I was aware of Suzie’s policy.”

  Richardson’s eyebrows rose slightly, but Phelps remained motionless.

  “Were you romantically involved with your brother’s wife, Liam?” Phelps asked.

  And there it was, the trip wire that he was supposed to blunder into. Liam’s spirits rose. They didn’t have anything but the insurance policy. “No, I wasn’t. Suzie was a great person, very kind, compassionate. I believe, since my brother and I didn’t see each other very much, she wanted to make sure I’d be taken care of if something ever happened to them.”

  “That’s it?” Phelps grunted.

  “As far as I can see, that’s it,” Liam said, his eyes boring holes through the other man.

  Richardson sat forward, placing his elbows on the table. “Would you be willing to show us the documentation when you finalize the donation?” His voice was low and even, his eyes imploring. This man didn’t suspect him in the least.

  “Absolutely,” Liam said. He saw Phelps glance at the other agent and then shift back, examining him before punching the button on the recorder between them.

  “That’s all we needed from you, Mr. Dempsey.”

  “I’m free to go?”

  “Unless there’s anything else you’d like to add,” Phelps said in a mocking tone.

  Liam felt the edge of very thin ice beneath his feet, but couldn’t stop himself. “Have there been any developments in the case? I heard rumors about another murder this morning.”

  “Where did you hear that?” Phelps asked, his voice an ice pick.

  Liam shrugged. “Café, people talking.”

  Phelps stared at him, the agent’s jaw muscles flexing inside his cheeks. “We have a suspect in custody, that’s all I can say.”

  Liam nodded. Who? his mind asked, but he wouldn’t let the word slip out. He had chased two people through the woods this morning; whom did they have in custody now? He stood and turned toward the door, but Phelps spoke as Liam touched the knob.

  “Mr. Dempsey, just don’t leave town quite yet, yeah?”

  Liam glanced at him over his shoulder. “My brother’s and sister-in-law’s funerals are two days from now. I don’t think I’ll head out until after that.”

  Without another look back, he swung the door open and stepped into the hall. Farther down the corridor, he heard a lock opening and the shuffling of feet. He waited, hoping it was the sheriff. When two men entered his field of vision, one in handcuffs and the other following closely behind, his eyes opened wide against the fatigue that had stalked him all morning.

  A sheriff’s deputy pushed a ragged-looking man through the entry and into the holding area, and Liam saw Nut’s eyes find his before the door swung closed and blocked him from view.

  CHAPTER 12

  Liam sat in his truck in the Brenton’s Hardware parking lot, his gaze unfocused and bleary, the image of Nut being led into the cellblock replaying over and over in his mind.

  Something had gone wrong, that was apparent. Nut had to have touched something in the park before he arrived. Would the older man crack and mention his name?

  Liam tried to convince himself that the latter question wasn’t more important than finding out why Nut was in custody, but the tension created by the thought of his cell phone ringing with a blocked number again was almost too much to bear.

  He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to break the repetitive loop in his mind. He looked across the street and watched a gaggle of teenagers meander along the storefronts. A woman in a ratty sweatshirt, the hood pulled up obscuring her face, passed them in the opposite direction. A news van rolled into view, a jumble of unfamiliar station letters scrawled across its side. It was a circus now, three-ring, with a sideshow to boot, and he was in the center of it all. The news of another murder would travel fast, and there would be no hushing it. Tallston would become a playground for the broadcasters.

  Liam sipped the tall coffee he’d picked up from the drive-through at the end of the street. He didn’t flinch at the scalding brew as it slid in a line of fire from his mouth to his stomach.

  His cell phone chirped a text message, and when he picked it up, relief swept over him at seeing Dani’s number.

  Are you ok?

  He typed yes and that he would call her soon. What he wouldn’t give right now to go to her hotel and pick her up for lunch, where they could discuss something normal over a drink. Normal—what would that even feel like?

  He shook his head. He couldn’t let his focus drift away now that everything had gone from bad to worse. He drummed his fingers once more on the steering wheel, then fired up the Chevy’s engine.

  He found the community center only a block from his hotel. It was a one-story brick building fronted completely with glass. The lobby breathed against him with its air-conditioning as he searched the wall of pamphlets and corkboard, avoiding eye contact with the elderly man at the help desk. Words like Parenthood and Group Therapy jumped out at him in bold letters. He saw advertisements for weekly cribbage clubs, an announcement for a fishing tournament that was three weeks past, and two homemade fliers offering lawn-mowing services. At the very end of the wall, a leaning plastic stand stood on a table amongst a flurry of business-card holders. The faded title at the top of the printout snagged his eyes: Citizens for Conservation (The Colton Incorporated project and the ecological impact).

  Liam scanned the paper covered with a few bold statistics and facts until he found a small pyramid of text at the very bottom, consisting of a woman’s name, phone number, and address for group meetings. Liam folded the paper and walked out of the empty center, nodding once at the old man, who watched him go.

  The address on the paper led him to a blue Victorian house at the north end of Tallston. A picket fence lined the immaculate front yard, and a newer Ford Explorer rested in the paved driveway. The gate between the fence newels was open, small-town trust at its best, an invitation to walk right up to the front door—which was exactly what he did. After knocking, he heard movement inside the house—a squeaking floorboard and a loud dog bark followed by muffled words of scolding. The door opened, and a tall woman in her sixties stood inside the screen. A stack of gray hair curled away from her head, with two black sticks poking from it. A thin pair of black-framed glasses perched on her nose, behind which two wispy blue eyes studied him.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  Liam caught movement behind her, and an immense Great Dane with a gray coat meandered to her side, its wide head cocked, matching its owner’s stare.

  “Are you Grace Fitger?”

  “Yes. Are you with the police? Because I already spoke to those two agents this morning.”

  “No, I’m not. My name is Liam Dempsey, I—” He paused, seeing the abrupt change come over the woman’s face, a storm cloud washing her features.

  “Oh God,” she said, bringing a hand to her throat. “You’re his brother—you look just like him.”

  Liam mimicked the Dane’s movement, tipping his head. “You knew Allen?”

  Grace pursed her lips and nodded. “I worked for him for almost twenty years.”

  She showed him inside and closed the door behind them, shutting out the brightnes
s of the day. The dog stood in the doorway of the living room until Grace pushed past him, rubbing the Dane’s ear affectionately as she went. Grace and Liam sat in two chairs angled before a tall fireplace in the center of the room. As he got comfortable, the dog came straight to him, their eyes level with each other, and sat so that his head rested on Liam’s thigh. Liam put a hand on the dog’s huge head and rubbed his right ear just as he saw Grace do earlier.

  “He’s a big baby,” Grace said. “I got him for protection, and I think he came home with me for the same reason.”

  Liam smiled. “What’s his name?”

  “Ashes.”

  “You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Ashes?” Liam said, scratching the dog’s ear harder as the Dane began to swish his long tail back and forth across the hardwood floor.

  “I’m very sorry about Allen and Suzie,” Grace said.

  Liam looked up from the grinning dog. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t know what the hell’s happening in this town, but it’s terrifying, to say the least.”

  Liam sat back in his chair, and Ashes slid awkwardly to the floor, pinning Liam’s feet beneath the dog’s body. “That’s actually what brought me to you.”

  Grace sighed. “Would you like some coffee, Liam?”

  “I’d love some.”

  She returned to the room a few minutes later and handed him a steaming cup before returning to her seat. “I suppose you’d like to know about my time at Allen’s clinic?”

  Liam sipped the coffee, noting its excellence. “Actually, what I’m interested in is the ecological group you started.”

  Grace’s eyes narrowed. “Why’s that?”

  “I don’t know if you’ve heard or not, but there’s a rumor around town that Donald Haines was killed last night. He’s the project—”

  “I know who he is,” Grace said. “If you came here to make the same accusations that those two agents did this morning, I’ll have to ask you to leave, Allen’s brother or not.”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything, I just want to ask you some questions.” He took her silence as consent. “Why did you start the group?”

  Grace hesitated before answering. “Because I care about nature and despise huge corporations like Colton. I grew up in this town, lived here all my life. I’ve canoed the river more times than I can count, climbed the hills that border Wisconsin until I knew every foothold and path. Hell, I’ve even gone cliff-jumping with people a third of my age over at Corner Bluff.” She leaned forward, cupping her mug in hands that looked worn and used, the skin cracked here and there with cuts and scrapes. “Colton is going to destroy that land across the river, clear-cut the trees, tear the ground up, and salt the earth. It’ll be a barren waste instead of the nature it is now.” A tremor of emotion ran through her voice, and Liam realized that it wasn’t her first time giving this speech, but it wasn’t something she rehearsed.

  “How many people are in the group?”

  Grace sniffed. “Not enough. This town’s a bunch of hypocrites when it comes to some things. ‘Oh, look at the jewel of Minnesota! We love our wilderness! You want to put a huge pulp plant across the river and cut down all the trees? More money into the community you say? Go right ahead!’ ”

  “You’re very passionate about this,” Liam said, taking another sip of coffee.

  “I wouldn’t have lost my job if I wasn’t.”

  Liam stared at her. “You lost your job?”

  “Yep. I was a nurse for your brother for nearly twenty years. I applied for the job shortly after he opened up the clinic. I was working at Fairview in Dayton before that, a half-hour commute every morning. Allen hired me on the spot and treated me well, up until Colton came to town.”

  “How was my brother involved with Colton?” Liam asked, already guessing the answer.

  “His best friend was Jerry Shevlin. Jerry owned the land that Colton purchased across the river—made a fortune on it, I’m sure, like he needed any more money. Those people were rolling in it. I mean, they made a donation to the clinic every year for over a hundred thousand dollars.”

  The picture on Jerry Shevlin’s desk appeared in Liam’s mind like a dealt card on a poker table. “Was there a grand reopening for the clinic that the Shevlins were a part of?”

  Grace finished the last of her coffee and set the cup on a table by her chair. “Not really a grand reopening, but an expansion. I have no idea how much the Shevlins donated for that endeavor, but about two years after Allen opened the clinic, he expanded from six rooms to twenty-four. He hired four more nurses and another doctor, not to mention purchased a bunch of equipment that cost a bundle.”

  “Why were the Shevlins so generous when it came to the clinic?” Liam asked.

  Grace frowned. “I suppose it had something to do with the loss of their child.”

  “What happened?” Liam said, sitting forward and disturbing Ashes from his nap.

  “It was before I started working at the clinic, but from what I gathered, Karen wanted to do a home birth and Jerry was dead set against it. Well, she had her way, and wouldn’t you know, there were complications. The baby died, and I think the donations were Jerry’s way of raging against his son’s death. It might’ve been a little slap in the face to Karen too, although they stayed together and always looked happy whenever they went gallivanting around town.”

  “You don’t seem to be a fan of the Shevlins. I mean, even outside of the Colton issue.”

  “They were rotten people, Mr. Dempsey,” Grace said with a chilly voice. “I knew it the first time I saw Jerry throwing rocks at a raft of ducks in the river when he was nine. Same with Karen. She showed up when she was about fifteen, an air about her that she was better than everyone else. I’m sorry they’re dead, but much sorrier for their son, Eric. A kinder boy you couldn’t find.”

  “So why did you lose your job?” Liam saw Grace’s mouth tighten at the question.

  “I spoke my mind, said I didn’t agree with the sale of the land and what it was going to be used for. I made the mistake of saying it around Allen, and he had words with me one afternoon when we were alone. He told me in no uncertain terms that if I wanted to remain in my position, I would keep any opinions on the matter to myself.” Grace sat a little straighter in her chair. “I quit the next day and put in my notice to run for a seat on the city council.”

  “And you won.”

  “Damn right I won.” Her head dipped a bit as she rubbed her callused hands together in her lap. “Not that it will do any good when we vote. The other members are friends of our asshole mayor, and if he wants it to go through, it’ll go through. In fact, we’re having a special assembly two days from now to decide if the scheduled meeting to vote on the project will stand despite the recent events . . . and it will.” Her hands clenched into fists, and her gaze extended beyond the room they sat in. “If I were made of stronger stuff, I’d go to the mayor right now and tell him if he didn’t shut the project down, I’d slip a note to his wife about all the excursions he makes up to his cabin with one of the city interns.”

  Grace came back to herself and glanced at Liam. “I’m sorry. Here I am blabbering about the town’s dirty laundry.”

  “It’s quite all right.”

  She studied him for a moment before speaking. “I always wondered why Allen and you didn’t have anything to do with each other, but I never asked.”

  “He never spoke of me, did he?” Liam said, hating the flame of hope that flickered in his chest.

  “No, but I found a little picture of you and your father in his desk drawer one day when I was looking for a prescription pad. All of you looked alike.”

  Liam felt the flame waver and die. “Yes, we did.”

  “What did you really want to know?” Grace said.

  “You’ve actually answered all my questions.”

  “No,
you mentioned Donald Haines being murdered and wanted to scope out the leader of the hippie squad as a suspect—am I correct?”

  Liam appraised the woman across from him. She was as sharp as a tack. “I was curious, yes, but I didn’t think you were the one writing lies on the Colton signs.”

  Grace shrugged. “There’s a couple of our members who are a little young and a lot stupid.”

  Liam nodded. “Anyone who might go so far as to—”

  “Murder that man? No. There’s only five of us in the group, Mr. Dempsey, and I’ve known them all since they were babies.”

  “Please, call me Liam. And I really appreciate your help—you’ve been great,” Liam said, standing. Ashes rose from the floor and almost knocked him back into the chair with a nudge from his head.

  Grace followed him to the door, and stopped him with a touch of her hand on his shoulder just as he was about to step into the sunlight.

  “Do you think they’ll catch whoever did this?”

  Liam eyed her for a moment before squeezing her hand. “Yes, but keep him close,” he said, motioning to the Dane. “Because I think someone else is going to die before they do.”

  CHAPTER 13

  When he climbed into the Chevy, a text message waited on his cell phone’s screen with only the words Call soon, sent by a number he didn’t recognize.

  He dialed it, apprehension building within him as the other end of the line rang.

  “Liam.” The sheriff’s voice, low and conspiring. “What in the fuck did you do?”

  Liam waited, weighing his options. “Nut was keeping me informed.”

  “Yeah?” Barnes prompted.

  “He found Haines early last night on his way to the boardwalk. He called me right away.”

  “And you went down there first.” It wasn’t a question. “God Almighty, boy. Where was your fucking head at?”

  “Listen,” Liam said, his voice beginning to rise with anger. “You called me into your office and handed me information along with the go-ahead to help, not the other way around, so don’t criticize my tactics when you asked for them.” The line went silent, but he could still hear the older man’s breathing. “How did they pin this on Nut, by the way?”