Murder Deja Vu

by Polly Iyer

  “Who mentioned Karen’s sex life at the table first?”

  Mark took a pull on his beer. He thought a minute before answering. “Steve. He didn’t do it vindictively. It was a slip of the tongue. Later he said he couldn’t believe he’d done it. I remember seeing the look on your face and feeling terrible.”

  “Not as terrible as I felt. You think either one of them could have killed her?”

  Reece had barely touched his beer. Mark finished his before he spoke. “I don’t know, and that’s the truth. I’ve learned I’m not a very good judge of character. I used to trust everyone, then I opened a practice and found out differently. Even in upscale Wellesley.”

  “I don’t want to get you in trouble, Mark, but I need Steve’s address. Jordan’s too, if you have it.” He steadied his gaze on Mark. “I won’t be railroaded into prison again.”

  “I can’t imagine how hard it must have been.” He patted Reece on the shoulder. “I haven’t seen or heard from Jordan in twenty years. He could be in Mongolia, for all I know. But I have Steve’s address somewhere.”

  Reece looked around the office while Mark rummaged through the top drawer of his desk. Pictures of the Cabrini family covered the mantel; golf trophies and tournament memorabilia filled the bookcase. What he saw spoke of a man who’d attained his success through hard work, because he knew Mark came from a working-class family with little money. He imagined he’d have a similar room in his house if things had gone as planned, with pictures of a wife and kids in silver frames, grouped on the mantel. He’d always tried not to think of that life, but the contrast of what he saw in this home office posed a stark reminder.

  Mark handed Reece a piece of paper with Steve Yarrow’s name, address, and phone number. “He has a vet practice in Cohasset with another guy. I always thought he and Jordan would go into practice together—they talked about it—but it never happened.”

  Reece glanced at the paper, folded it, and tucked it into his jeans pocket. “Thanks. I appreciate your help.” He got up to leave when a well-dressed, attractive woman walked into the study.

  “Mark?” She stared at Reece for an uncomfortably long time. “Jesus, are you nuts? His picture’s all over the news.”

  “He’s a friend, Sandy, and he’s innocent.”

  “So what? This makes you an accessory. Harboring a fugitive, or something.”

  She went for the phone. Mark put his hand over hers on the receiver. “Don’t.”

  “I’m going. Thanks, Mark.” Reece turned to Sandy Cabrini. “I can’t stop you from calling the police, Mrs. Cabrini, but I hope you won’t.” He nodded at Mark and left the same way he entered. He trusted Mark not to mention where he was going, but like his friend said, no one ever knows who’s trustworthy.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Uninvited Guests

  Dana’s heart leapt when she heard Reece’s voice. “Where are you?”

  “Two down, two to go,” he said. “I’m on my way back. It’s too late to catch number three at work, and I don’t dare go to his house and come face-to-face with his wife. Number two’s wife recognized me. I’m still not sure she hasn’t phoned the police, which is another reason why I want to wait. Have you heard from Jeraldine?”

  “No. Why would I?”

  “Because she knows Frank is the only person I’d go to, same as the cops.”

  “She doesn’t want to know. If anything bad happens, they can say she aided and abetted in a crime. That’s not covered in her rights as your lawyer.”

  “I know, but nothing’s going to happen. Have Lana check the street for cops.”

  “Okay. Reece?”

  “Yes?”

  “Be careful.”

  “I will. I’m getting the hang of this on-the-lam thing.”

  Dana repeated what Reece wanted Lana to do.

  “Good idea,” Frank said. “It’s a nice day. Why don’t we walk over to the beach and watch the sun go down? I’m slow, which means we can get a good look around without arousing suspicion.”

  “Are you up to it?” Lana asked.

  “Sure. You’ve heard of bed sores? I’m getting recliner sores on my ass. I need to walk. It’ll do me good.”

  Lana helped him to his feet. Dana’s insides twisted as she watched. She kept envisioning the tattooed man swooping down like the wrath of God to save Reece and comparing that man with the picture before her. The contrast flooded her with sadness.

  “Don’t you get all weepy on me, girl,” Frank said. “I’m weak, but it ain’t got me yet. Has it, Lana, my sweet?

  “Not yet, love.”

  “Still got some hugging and kissing in me for later. The other stuff…not so much.”

  Lana soft-punched him, embarrassed. “Frank. What will Dana think?”

  He took Lana’s arm with one hand, a cane in the other. “With all this talk, she’ll think, where the hell is Reece?”

  Dana laughed. “You’re a bad boy, Frank Vance.”

  He winked. “I hope so.”

  They left Dana fighting off tears. She went to the window and peeked from behind the curtain, staying out of view. Frank and Lana slowly descended the stairs, searching the area in a natural manner. Dana figured Frank turned on his cop antennae, second nature to a man who’d spent most of his life either on the lookout for cops or inside prison. Lana might have been looking too, but her attention focused more on helping Frank. As they moved from the inside street to the pedestrian crosswalk, cars stopped to let them pass.

  Lana had opened the windows. Today, the air smelled like the ocean. People jogged along the promenade, the waves of high tide crashed onto the seawall. Farther down, the shoreline narrowed into a stretch of beach that led to an island. Nahant, Frank called it, attached to Lynn by a causeway. On the horizon, a rock jutted out of the ocean like a giant leviathan. Dana thought it looked like a half-submerged elephant, its trunk curled into the water.

  She didn’t see anyone suspicious. No one lurking in cars or on the walkway across the street. That didn’t mean they weren’t there. She watched as Frank and Lana strolled to a spot in front of the seawall and settled on the bench, two older people enjoying the day. Lana turned around and faced the building, shaking her head, indicating an all clear.

  Dana thought about the last year. From Robert’s nasty exposure of her affair to the accusation against Reece to the two people across the street she had grown to care about in such a short time. Some wounds had healed. Robert could no longer threaten her with exposure, and she didn’t lose her sons in the fallout. She’d met Frank and Lana, a window of opportunity that would be closed later, at least concerning Frank. But, oh, the joy of knowing him.

  And Reece. He had stolen her heart, and she’d given him hers. Still, questions remained that needed answers, mysteries that begged solutions.

  She checked her watch. Almost an hour since Reece called. She wished she’d asked where he was and how long it would take him to get back. Frank and Lana still sat on the bench along the promenade. Going that distance must have exhausted him, and he needed time to harness the strength to return. Then she noticed a dark car pull up in front of the house—the kind of unmarked car that law enforcement drove. Two dark-suited men got out. One adjusted the bulge under his jacket. Every muscle in Dana’s body tensed. They glanced up at the window while climbing the steps to the front door. Fortunately, she stepped back out of sight in time.

  She heard the buzzer. Again. Insistent. If they pressed other buzzers, someone would let them in. And then what? Should she hide in the closet? Panic filled her. She tried to listen through the drumbeat in her ears. A woman’s voice called out the window from an upstairs apartment. Dana heard her clearly.

  “Across the street, on the bench,” the woman said.

  Dana figured the other tenants must know Frank had company. Did they know who, or were they minding their own business?

  The men returned to the front stoop and pointed across the street. Dana stayed back, afraid even the slightest mo
vement might call attention to the window. They descended the stairs and made their way across the two streets, dodging between cars whose drivers hit their horns. One screeched to a stop an inch before hitting them. The men waved their fists in the air, but it only inspired fist-waving back and one vertical digit.

  The two suits reached the other side and stood in front of Frank and Lana. The bigger of the two took something out of his jacket pocket that flashed in the setting sun. Lana stood in a protective stance; Frank didn’t move. When he did, he struggled to his feet, leaning on both the cane and Lana’s arm. He pointed to the apartment.

  What was he doing? Inviting them to search the place? Calling their bluff would be just like Frank. Dana couldn’t make out their expressions from that distance, but she saw Frank lunge into a coughing fit. Lana leaned into him and pushed one of the men away. They nodded and left, repeating the same death-defying navigation of the main road. Dana breathed a sigh of relief.

  Until she saw Reece’s Civic on Lynn Shore Drive, heading straight for Beach Road on a collision course with the two cops and their parked car.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Tomorrow

  Reece saw Lana running across the street toward the apartment building as he turned onto Beach Road. Why? Was something wrong with Frank? He panicked. She hailed two men walking toward a dark sedan. Then he understood. She was warning him not to park the car and get out. He’d already turned into the street. Nothing he could do but drive by. She pointed toward the Lynnway, drawing their attention away from him.

  Here I go, right past them. He hoped she distracted them long enough to ignore the passing car. He drove by at a normal speed and kept going, checking the rear view mirror once as he passed. Lana got into the car with the two men. Whatever she said worked. They didn’t even look his way. Reece pulled out of the street, made a half-turn around at the rotary—called a traffic circle in any other part of the country—and headed toward Nahant.

  He didn’t want to drive to the end of the long causeway, because the dinner crowd would be filling the restaurant parking lot there. He pulled into one of the public beach spaces halfway down and parked. It was after six. A few people still populated the beach.

  Seeing his hands shake in front of him confirmed he wasn’t cut out to be a fugitive. He punched in Frank’s cell number, hoping his friend had taken his phone with him.

  “Where are you,” Frank said in his raspy voice.

  “Parked on the Nahant causeway. Who were they?”

  “Feds. Stay where you are for a while. I don’t know what Lana is doing with them or when they’ll come back. Sit tight. I am.”

  “I plan to. I saw Lana. Where are you?”

  “Sitting on the promenade. I can’t make it back alone, so I’m enjoying the nice view.”

  “I wish I could come get you.”

  “Don’t even think of it. I’ll call you when it’s safe.”

  Reece eased back onto the headrest and gazed at the ocean. After a few minutes, he felt his tension lessen. Why did he find the constant undulation of waves so calming? He remembered the feeling as a boy in Portland.

  Reflecting on his youth brought back a vision of his father. Though Carl facially favored Thom Daughtry, Reece had inherited his height and build. Maybe he should have given in to Carl’s insistence and gone to see him. He’d never have another chance. But his father’s rejection had cut too deep, and Reece couldn’t cast aside the pain it caused, even now.

  Lost in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed the last stragglers leaving the beach until he realized it was now empty. He remembered from his college days that the strip was famous, or infamous, for steamy cars—targets for the Lynn Police to break up the mischief. Even though it was still light, he needed to move on before one of them became suspicious. He was already heading back when his phone chirped.

  “It’s safe,” Frank said and rang off.

  To be sure, Reece drove past the apartment building and circled the rotary again until he felt confident enough to pull into the street and park. He took a deep breath and got out. Someone in the apartment must have been watching because the buzzer sounded and the door clicked open before he reached it.

  Dana pulled him inside and closed the door, trembling in his arms. Guilt overwhelmed him. Now she was as much a fugitive as he. “It’s okay.” He lied, of course. Nothing was okay and would likely get worse. “Shh, shh.”

  He saw Frank watching. His old friend appeared more gaunt than he had that morning. He should be in bed. Frank would say he’d be resting for eternity soon enough. Why rest now?

  The aroma of something heavy and rich filled the stuffy apartment. The overhead fan whirred, blowing hot scented air around the room.

  Dana’s hold tightened. “I was so scared. I watched you head straight for the two cops. If you had parked and gotten out, they would have seen you.”

  “Hard to ignore Lana running across the street, waving her arms. She couldn’t have warned me off more clearly if she’d carried a red flag.” Reece turned to her. “Thanks. If it weren’t for you, I’d be locked up. What did you say get those agents to leave with you?”

  “When they talked to us at the beach—”

  “Not talked, questioned,” Frank said. “Of course they wanted to know if I’d heard from you. Lucky we were sitting over there. Anyone would assume that if you’d come to the house, we’d be together.”

  “When Frank went into a fit of coughing,” Lana said, “they both looked like they wanted to escape, like they might catch whatever Frank had. I watched them leave and saw your car. I had to warn you, so I ran to ask them to take me to the drugstore for medication. They did.”

  “She’s brilliant, isn’t she?” Frank said, reaching across the table for her hand. “And a quick-thinker too. I didn’t see the car. Not that I could have done anything about it.”

  “I did the first thing that came into my mind,” Lana said.

  “The locals would be pissed if the feds came in and stole their thunder,” Frank said. “You’re big time now.”

  Reece took Dana by the shoulders. “I want you to turn yourself in. I’ll take you to Maine. Say I forced you to go with me. Say I—”

  “No, I won’t do it. You can’t make me lie to them, Reece.”

  “Don’t you see, when I’m caught, and I will be, you’ll go down with me.” He turned to Frank. “Tell her.”

  “He’s right, Dana. You’ll be an accessory.”

  “But he didn’t do anything.” Tears streaked her cheeks.

  “And if I didn’t know better,” Reece said, “I’d say you were right. They couldn’t convict an innocent man. But I can’t say that, because they did, and DNA testing is proving every day that I wasn’t the only one.”

  Lana sat on the arm of Frank’s chair. “If this were Frank, I wouldn’t turn myself in either. And he couldn’t make me.”

  “Noble, my love,” Frank said, patting her hand, “but foolish. Let’s discuss this later. I’m hungry, if you can believe that. I haven’t been hungry in a long time, and Lana made my favorite chicken dish. Must be all the time I waited across the street for her to come get me and walk me back. Revved my appetite.”

  Reece put his arm around Dana’s shoulders. “We’ll talk later.”

  “You won’t convince me.”

  Again, Lana had set a beautiful table. Reece offered to help Frank to his seat, but he nudged his head in Lana’s direction. Reece understood. Lana wanted to do this, and for as long as she was capable, Frank let her. The scene both exhilarated and touched Reece, and he forced his emotion to remain locked inside. A quick glance at Dana confirmed she fought the same battle.

  Lana served everyone. Reece hadn’t eaten all day, and Lana’s chicken dish was five-star fare. “Amazing, Lana,” he said when he cleaned his plate.

  “Another recipe Reece has to have,” Dana said, poking an elbow in Reece’s ribs.

  At that moment, Reece pushed himself back from the table. “Jesus, we�
�re sitting around here eating and talking like nothing’s happened. Exchanging fucking recipes. Like every law enforcement agency in the country isn’t after me for two murders. I can’t even go to the window and look at the ocean, afraid someone’s watching. It’s been pure luck we haven’t been caught.” He slammed his fist against the wall. “How did this happen?”

  He couldn’t look at anyone. Frustration had boiled up inside, and he lost his temper. One more day. That’s all he needed to check out Steve and Jordan. Which one was a murderer? And always Carl loomed in the back of his mind. The legends of brother turning against brother were as old as Cain and Abel, Romulus and Remus.

  Dana’s hands on his shoulders, rubbing and massaging, caused him to flinch. “Don’t. Your touch makes it worse, because I know you shouldn’t be here.”

  “I’m not letting you get in a mood,” Dana said. “We can do this, Reece.”

  He turned. “We? We can land in jail. Do you know what will happen to you? Let me tell you.”

  “Reece, stop.”

  Frank’s normally weak voice resonated with a force Reece hadn’t heard from his friend since they arrived.

  “Don’t,” Frank said again.

  “I don’t want her hurt.”

  “I know. But there’s nothing you can do now except be extra careful when you leave tomorrow. She’s safe here. They won’t be back. The police have searched the apartment, and all the feds saw here were a dying man and his loyal companion.”

  “One more day,” Reece said. “That’s all I need. If I don’t find out tomorrow, I’ll turn myself in.”

  Dana gasped. “You can’t.”

  “I can’t keep running. I’m not made that way. And I don’t want you to.” Tears filled Dana’s eyes as he watched. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, compound the problem. He’d swear he forced her to go with him, that she didn’t have a choice. She’d balk, but he’d make her understand. What difference would it make if the feds added kidnapping to the charges against him?

  He looked at Frank, his body visually wilting in his chair. “You need to get some rest, Frank, and so do I. Tomorrow’s a big day. I’ll either be caught or I’ll find out who’s framing me for the second time. If neither of those things happen, I will give myself up. Whichever, it’ll be over.”