by Polly Iyer
She started to say something, and he put his finger across her mouth. “The other night, I was humiliated that you saw the cops drag me half-dressed from your house. I would never want any man or woman to see a lover, spouse, or child taken like that. It was degrading and brought back feelings I’d rather not remember. I couldn’t imagine what you thought.” He shook his head. “No, don’t tell me.”
“I will tell you. It pissed me off. I was furious at the system, at Mickey for waving the warrant in my face, at the injustice of it all, and pissed at whoever killed that girl and made it look like you did it.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, and so has Clarence. You met Clarence, didn’t you?”
Dana nodded.
“I wish he’d been working for Jeraldine the first time, but as a public defender she didn’t have the luxury of a top-notch investigator. I’ve been thinking about the first time too. About who knew Karen and who might have wanted her dead. I thought about it a lot in prison, but I couldn’t process anything clearly then. I think most of that time I was shell-shocked.”
“Were you?”
“Yeah. It got better as time went on, but it also got worse, because I knew I’d never get out. Now, there are two murders pointing to me. Maybe two different murderers. Doesn’t matter that the Cambridge case has been dropped. Pinning it on me would justify they were right in the first place.”
Dana had thought the same thing ever since the murder. Would it be the court of public opinion all over again? “This one seems like a copycat. But Jeraldine said Clarence has been poking around in Boston. Maybe he rattled someone’s cage. If it’s a copycat, it comes down to who around here knew about you.”
“When I moved down here, I’d hoped my past life would be that—past. But when your ex-husband made a big deal about my buying this property, word got out who I was and what I’d supposedly done. I didn’t care anymore. I was tired of running and fought him.”
“It doesn’t matter who Robert hurts, as long as he makes headlines.”
Reece brushed a curl off her forehead. “Why did you stay with him so long? I suspect you did it for your sons, but there must have been more to it.”
Dana swiveled around, her back to Reece’s chest. She couldn’t look him in the eyes when she told him. He wrapped his arms around her, and she felt his heat like a warm blanket in the cool morning.
“There is.” She took a moment, marshaling her courage. “I married Robert right after I finished college. He came on to me like Prince Charming. Swept me off my feet. Maybe he was the same bastard then, but I didn’t see it. Not until after my father died. Then he turned into this controlling martinet. I should have left him then, but I stayed because my sons were young, and I didn’t want to put them through something I knew would be ugly. Robert was a disciplinarian, but he wasn’t a bad father. When they started school, I needed something of my own, so I went back for my master’s in English. I had an affair with my professor.” She paused, giving time between her last sentence and the one to come. “My professor was a lesbian.”
Reece didn’t say anything, and he didn’t lessen his hold, but Dana held her breath. She wondered whether she should have told him, but he’d been straight with her.
“Does that bother you?” she asked.
“No.”
She expected him to elaborate, but he didn’t. “Our relationship started out innocently enough. I was miserable; she was a good listener. Then it turned into something more. It seemed natural, and it was. Robert found out and hired a sleazy detective to follow me. He caught us in a compromising position and photographed us. From that time on, Robert threatened that if I left him, he’d make sure I never saw the boys again. He’d have sent them off to some military school out of spite and revenge so I couldn’t see them. In a fit of anger, he said he’d kill my younger son if I left. He apologized for that.” She snickered. “It’s the only time he ever apologized. I know he didn’t mean the threat. He couldn’t handle losing control, and my affair with a woman challenged his manhood. Still, he said if he showed the pictures to a judge, he’d be awarded full custody. I figured he was right. He knew the judges, and with social mores being what they are in the Bible Belt, the deck would’ve been stacked against me.” She sighed. “So I stayed until my younger son left for college.”
Dana wondered if Reece compared her to the unfaithful woman who’d turned his life upside down. But he wanted to know everything about her, and she told him the truth.
“Did he physically abuse you?”
She didn’t answer.
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
His hold tightened. “Prison is relative, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“What happened to your lover?”
“Robert made sure she lost her job. I hated him for that. She didn’t deserve it. Fortunately, she landed a better position at a bigger, more liberal university. We still keep in touch, but as friends only. She helped me through a difficult time. I owe her a lot.” Dana felt the warmth of Reece’s lips on her neck, easing the tenseness that had built up. “No one but Harris knew about that part of my life. I wasn’t ashamed of it, but it wasn’t anyone else’s business. I never felt that way about a woman again and didn’t consider it a permanent change in the way I loved. So know that.”
“Love takes many different forms. I saw enough of it in prison. Some ugly, some not. I don’t judge. What you told me doesn’t change anything between us. So know that too.”
Tears stung Dana’s eyes. She let his words resonate before she continued. “I’d been trying to get an agent to represent my books, and I finally did. Last fall, she sold the second book I wrote, and a production company bought it to make a television movie. The income and a small inheritance my father left provided enough independence to move out.”
“And your sons?”
“As expected, Robert hit the roof when I left. For revenge, he told the boys I had been unfaithful and with whom. I remember feeling my blood boil inside me. After all the years I’d protected them, and Robert destroyed everything in one awful moment. I didn’t deny it, but they were angrier at Robert for telling than for my indiscretion. What is it kids say? Too much information? They’re mature young men who knew all was not well in the Minette household. They’ve been supportive of me and hold no animosity. I never spoke ill of their father, didn’t tell them what Robert had done to me. That would have turned me into a vengeful Robert, and the thought sickened me. Whatever they think of him they’ve kept to themselves. I respect them for that. But Robert had nothing left to hold over me. In a way, exposure relieved a lot of pressure. Now, he’s plain hateful.”
She rested her head on Reece’s chest. She didn’t think he could hold her any tighter, but he did. He kissed her hair and brushed his lips behind her ear and down her neck. They sat that way for a long time.
“I think I’m ready for that coffee now,” he said. “Then, I want to show you my house…and my etchings.”
She turned halfway around and noticed the teasing smile.
The huge orange ball inched over the horizon. They drank coffee and watched it get higher and smaller and brighter and more gold than copper.
“Come.” Reece took her hand and led her into the house.
Chapter Sixteen
The Noose Tightens
Dana gasped the minute they entered the main room of the house. Books covered every surface—toppled haphazardly on bookshelves, strewn over the floor and furniture. Art and architecture books—big, expensive tomes—hardbacks and paperbacks, fiction and non-fiction. They were a collection of a lifetime—a lifetime made shorter by fifteen years. She stood with her mouth open, speechless.
“See the other reason for my mood?” he said. “I couldn’t face this.”
“The police did this?”
He nodded. “I picked up some, straightened others. Then I couldn’t do it anymore.” He bent down, took hold of a few more, and placed them on the tabl
e. “I collected many of these while I was still in school and during my residency. Others since I got out of prison. Only now I collect them on the Internet. The police ripped them from the shelves when they searched my house. These books are all I have of value. A few are seriously damaged. When I saw it, I thought of Hitler’s book burning. Fine, hate me, but this is flagrant disrespect on an entirely different level.” He lifted an old book off the table. “A 1932 first edition of Frank Lloyd Wright’s autobiography, signed. Fortunately, it’s not damaged.”
She reached over and touched his hand. “I’m so sorry. This is beyond belief. I’ll help you get them back in order.”
“Thanks. That’d mean a lot.” He leaned down and kissed her. “I’m glad you’re here. You coaxed me out of my mood and made me think of good things, in spite of this.”
His smile set her heart beating faster. His kiss ignited nerve endings she didn’t know existed. Reece led Dana through the rooms. He’d designed the house with nature as his guide. Skylights flooded every room with sunlight, framed by rough-hewn beams on the vaulted ceilings. Each room had at least one rock wall, with simple hand-crafted furniture.
“Did you make the furniture?”
“Most of it.”
She marveled at his talent and wondered what heights he might have achieved if fate hadn’t played its dirty trick. They ended the tour in the kitchen. Birdseye maple cabinets hung over black granite countertops veined in shades that mirrored the wood’s color.
“They ransacked the refrigerator but at least had the decency to put the food back inside. I’d gone shopping the day before, so I would have been genuinely pissed if all the food had spoiled. I’ll make dinner tonight.”
“Right. You said you were a good cook.”
“Yup. No modesty when it comes to my cooking.”
“Great, because I suck at it. I only cook because I have to eat to stay alive.”
Reece laughed. “You really are cute and pretty and beautiful all at the same time.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “Am I?”
“Yes, you are.” He kissed her again. “I’ll invite Jeraldine and Clarence. You know they’re a couple, don’t you?”
The revelation took her by surprise. “No, I didn’t. They’re not two people I’d put together, and not because she’s black and he’s white. But because she’s so dominant and he’s so quiet.”
“He’s not that quiet. He’s the boss, if you can believe it.”
“No way.”
“Yup, and she yields to him. It’s a sight to watch.” He took her by the hand. “I’ll call them after I show you my etchings.”
* * * * *
Reece made love with the same passionate intensity that defined him. He made sure he pleasured Dana before satisfying himself. After, she lay in his arms, cognizant of every emotion, every sound to file away so she’d never forget them.
Dana helped Reece return the books to their rightful places. What an outstanding collection. She forced herself to focus on the task to avoid skimming through them. Reece would stop and show her something he considered special, exposing his passion for the subject matter and the written word. The man constantly surprised her, revealing bits and pieces without trying.
She watched him make seafood linguine with assurance and creativity. No measuring, no second-guessing. He knew what he was doing, and the result proved it when they sat down to dinner with Jeraldine and Clarence.
“Honey, this is better than you can get in Seafood City, Massachusetts,” Jeraldine said. “That’s Boston, Dana. Best seafood anywhere.”
Dana listened to the innocent banter, tensely aware that Jeraldine’s ebullience might be a cover for bad news. Clarence waited until Reece served coffee.
“Doesn’t take Jeri long to zero in on a snitch wherever she goes. This time was easier because not many people mind working against Minette. He’s not well-liked. The snitch is a gal at the courthouse. They’ve dug up something to tie you to Rayanne Johnson, Reece. We don’t know what it is, but they’re going to pull you in for questioning.” Clarence focused on Dana. “I’m sorry to say the problem is coming from Robert Minette’s office.”
Dana’s stomach turned over.
Reece put down his cup. “Don’t direct that at Dana, Clarence. She has nothing to do with her ex-husband.”
Dana liked the way Reece stood up for her. It had been a long time since someone did that.
“Sorry. I know. I didn’t mean—”
Dana waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. People have said things to me when Robert wasn’t around as if I were his surrogate. I know it wasn’t personal.”
“We didn’t want to tell you till after dinner, baby,” Jeraldine said.
Dana noticed how Jeraldine called Reece baby all the time. She’d known him for twenty-one years, and Dana guessed when they met, Reece probably seemed young to her. Dana figured Jeraldine to be in her mid to late fifties, but she neither looked her age nor acted it. She loved Reece like a son.
Reece looked bewildered. “I don’t understand. The bartender said the woman left with a stranger, and the stranger wasn’t me, which of course I knew.”
“Yes, and I’m working that angle,” Clarence said. “It’s obvious from his description that he wore a disguise—glasses, facial hair, ball cap. We have height and weight, though. If it’s someone from Boston, the weight could have changed, so we have to keep those things in mind.”
“Tying Reece to the woman doesn’t tie him to the murder,” Dana said. “Maybe he met her, maybe he even—”
“Don’t, Dana.” Reece snaked his arm around her shoulders. “Don’t go there, because it’s possible. I haven’t been a monk the last six years, though I rarely did anything around here. Rudy’s is a good thirty miles away, and I liked the music, so it’s possible.”
“Show him the picture, Clarence,” Jeraldine said.
Clarence drew a small pad and a copy of what looked like a yearbook picture from his shirt pocket. “Recognize her?”
Reece studied the photograph. “I don’t know. Maybe. How old is this?”
“She was thirty-two. This is a high school shot, so…maybe the picture’s fourteen years old.
Reece looked at it again. “Add a few years, a few pounds. Me, a few beers. Could be someone I—” He shot Dana a glance. “You know.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Jeraldine said. “Dana’s right. Even if you did, doesn’t mean shit.”
Clarence raised his hands to stop the conversation. “Before we go off half-cocked, Jeri and I want to go over some old history—the events the night you were arrested for Karen’s murder. I know you’ve gone over them a hundred times with Jeri and in your own head, but not enough with me. Maybe you missed something. Some small fact, a connection. I tried to talk to your brother, but I’m sorry to say he refused to speak to me.”
“Not surprising. Carl supported me before and after the conviction, but in my heart, I don’t think he wanted to talk about it for fear he’d find out I was guilty, even though I swore I wasn’t.”
“Could Carl have been sleeping with Karen Sitton?”
Reece snorted. “Seems half of Cambridge slept with her. Why not Carl?”
“What about the others that night?” Clarence flipped open the pad. “I have the names of the male suspects questioned before your trial.”
“Only men?” Dana asked. “No women?”
“A few were questioned, but it took a strong person to cut through bone and muscle to almost sever a woman’s head.”
Dana gasped, then covered her mouth.
“I’m sorry, Dana,” Jeraldine said. “It was an ugly murder. I doubt any woman short of Xena, Warrior Princess, could have committed it.”
“I know. I wasn’t thinking.” She glanced at Reece, and he reached for her arm and stroked it.
“I spent fifteen years not thinking,” Reece said, “and another six being grateful not to be behind bars. But I need to clear myself, or this will follow me
for the rest of my life. Every time there’s a murder in the area, some cop will come to my door and question my whereabouts. I can’t go through life like that. The Harold County sheriff visited me soon after I came. Wanted to make sure I wasn’t luring women to my lair, or something.”
“The way I see it,” Clarence said, “there are two scenarios. One—the same person who killed Karen committed the latest murder. Maybe my looking into the case had someone scared I’d uncover something. What would be the best way to deflect exposure? Commit another murder with the same M.O. so Reece looks guilty all over again. It’d be brilliant, really.”
“What’s the other scenario?” Dana asked.
“A new murderer. I’ve eliminated revenge. Why wait six years?”
“Revenge for what?” Reece said. “What could I possibly have done that could exact that kind of revenge? I hardly know anyone around here.”
Clarence pushed his plate away. “Or the killer is using you so the cops won’t look at the real reason he murdered Rayanne Johnson. They questioned her on-and-off-again boyfriend, but people swear he was at the bar all night. I’ll check him out anyway. The downside of that theory is it seems unlikely that someone in a small town like Corley would have heard about Reece’s trial. The police chief only knew because of Minette’s suit against Reece to block the sale of this property. So I’ll work on scenario number one: that Karen’s murderer came down here to pin another murder on Reece to protect himself from being discovered. Also, let’s remember why Reece became the prime suspect in the murder. That kind of murder is usually a crime of passion. Someone knew her well. These other guys appeared to be quickies. One of them wasn’t. We have to find out which one. I’ll check who left town for a day or two, though whoever did this was probably smart enough to cover his tracks. What do you think?”