Murder Deja Vu

by Polly Iyer

  Carl lunged for the desk, jerked open the middle drawer, and rummaged through it. Desperation contorted his now florid face.

  “Looking for a weapon?” Reece asked. “A letter opener would do. You have one of those, don’t you? Or are you hoping to find something like this?”

  When Carl turned and saw the small gun in Reece’s hand, he froze. He started to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. He finally managed, “Don’t, Reece. Don’t do it.”

  Reece faced his demon, and an eerie calm settled over him. His hands stopped shaking. “Why not?” He walked around the desk and pushed Carl into his seat, wincing as the action tugged at his wound. His free hand pressed against it, and he felt the sticky residue on his fingers. Carl saw it too. “The way I figure, if I’m going back to prison, I might as well go back for a reason. No sense wasting the rest of my life without getting some satisfaction. You took my life; why shouldn’t I take yours?”

  Reece thought back to his conversation with Dana about what he’d do if he came face to face with the man who framed him, and his thoughts were darker than he ever imagined. “Seems fair, don’t you think?”

  Carl’s gaze riveted on Reece’s hand. “How—where did you get a gun?”

  “Prison teaches a man things he wouldn’t ordinarily know. Like how to buy a gun in almost any city. Portland wasn’t hard.”

  Tears filled Carl’s eyes. “You…you mean you’re going to kill me?”

  “In a word, yes.”

  “You could never do that.” Carl wheezed a phony laugh. “You’re not a killer. I know that.”

  Reece snorted. “Ironic. A lot of people seem to think otherwise. You’ve seen to that.”

  “Name it,” Carl said. “Money? You want money? I don’t have it now, but I can get it. You want to go to Canada? I’ll arrange it. I’ll take you there myself. You and your girlfriend. You don’t have to go back to prison.”

  Reece had grown up with Carl. They’d been best friends, or so he thought, but he’d never seen this sniveling side. Had he been so wrapped up in his studies, in trying to be the perfect son, that he never really knew his own brother? “You’re sweating again, Carl. I’d suggest you see an endocrinologist, but what would be the point? You’re not leaving this room alive.”

  “How did you get out of the hospital? You’re wanted for murder. They had a cop posted on your door.”

  “A cop helped me get away.” Reece shook his head. “Man, he doesn’t like you. I think he wants me to kill you. Name’s Tobey. Dennis Tobey. You know him, don’t you? You built his dream house, but it turned into his nightmare.”

  Carl’s jowly face flushed at the name. Yeah, Reece thought, he knew Dennis Tobey.

  “I admit, we made a few mistakes.”

  “A few mistakes? You built him a money pit.”

  “I’m not as good a businessman as Dad. I tried, but I fell in over my head and had to cut corners.”

  “According to Tobey, you cut more than corners. Shoddy workmanship throughout, he said. The place started falling apart.”

  “I needed money,” Carl said.

  “You mean you needed my inheritance.”

  The two men stared at each other, Carl frozen in the moment. “I got mortgage loans on phantom houses by submitting bogus appraisals, hoping to cover them with future sales.”

  “So when the bottom fell out of the market, the bank had no collateral, and the loans were total losses. Don’t you know Ponzi schemes don’t work? Sooner or later the money runs out.”

  A look of resignation crossed Carl’s face. “I always thought I’d be able to come up with the money.”

  “So with me in prison or dead, you’d inherit all of Dad’s money. And he’s dead now, isn’t he?” Reece stood over his brother, the gun firm in his hand. “Too bad you won’t collect.”

  “I didn’t want to do this, Reece, but on top of needing the money, your fucking investigator started checking into everyone’s alibi for the night of Karen’s murder. Marcy hates me now. If Wright started putting things in her head she might remember how tired she was that night and how she threw up the next morning. Then she might remember that I told her the time when she didn’t know. All enough to create doubt. I had to steer him off track.”

  “So you killed another innocent woman to put the blame back on me. I either get shot or go to jail. Either way, you get the money.”

  “I had a noose around my neck, don’t you understand? I couldn’t go to prison. I’m not strong like you. I never was.”

  “Strong?” Reece’s heart pumped so hard he thought the seeping hole in his chest would explode. The anger percolating inside turned him physically weak, and he almost dropped the gun.

  Instead, he lifted his right arm, cocked the pistol, and fired.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  A Bittersweet Time

  The click from the empty chamber sounded like a firecracker. Carl, wilting in his chair, stared wide-eyed. Strands of his damp comb-over clung to his forehead. Reece walked calmly to the door and turned the latch. He handed the unloaded gun to Larkins, who stood outside next to Tobey.

  “We got it all,” Larkins said.

  Reece walked past them both, unwilling to watch the look on Carl’s face when Larkins cuffed him and took him away. Cameras flashed and newsmen peppered Reece with questions as he walked into the daylight. How did these people know what was going on? They were like vultures picking at carrion. One pointed to the flowering stain on his shirt. He ignored them all. Tobey caught up with him and steered him toward a waiting car, pushing away the reporters blocking their way. He opened the rear door. Dana sat inside. She threw her arms around him when he got in, and he put his arm around her, flinching when he did. She pulled back and noticed his shirt.

  “You need a doctor,” she said. “You’re pale as a ghost.”

  He nodded.

  Larkins and Tobey had told her their plan before they told Reece, but she had teased him with the key and the idea of escaping. He was glad he nixed the idea.

  “It’s over,” she said.

  Reece fought a mood, despite Dana’s warm body next to him. How could he tell her that it would never really be over. Not when he thought of his brother. Not when he thought of the last twenty-one years.

  “Your attorney and her investigator are waiting at the station,” Tobey said, getting behind the wheel. “We need to settle a few things, then you’re free to go. But first, we’ll stop at Mercy. Get that wound looked at.”

  “Free to go.” Reece put his head back and closed his eyes. He had waited a long time to hear those words and know they were forever.

  “You must feel a sense of justice, Reece,” Tobey said, dodging the photographers and reporters clustered around the car as he pulled into traffic.

  Reece traded glances with the Portland detective in the rear view mirror. “Justice? Carl’s my brother. I get no satisfaction knowing what he’ll go through in the coming years. All I feel is an overwhelming sadness.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tobey said. “I assumed everyone thinks like me. ‘Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.’”

  “The words were, ‘Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord.’ Vengeance is for God to repay, not man.” Reece felt Dana’s eyes on him and turned to her. “And vengeance isn’t as sweet as I thought.”

  “That’s because you’re who you are,” Dana said, stroking his face.

  Reece thought back to when Larkins and Tobey came into his hospital room. Larkins had come to Portland to investigate the mortgage fraud. He had no idea Reece would figure into his plan. The Portland Police were on the lookout for him, but when Jim Payton called after arresting Klugh and told them his suspicions, it became a collaboration. Federal agents had tried to find Reece in Massachusetts, but until Carl took his shot, Reece managed to stay off the radar. Even Dana couldn’t reach him, because he’d shut off his phone. Reece shook his head at the turn of events. He remembered when Larkin presented his plan. The agent had the warran
t to get inside Carl’s office and he had the recording equipment. All he needed was Reece to go along.

  “Sorry we had to use you,” Tobey said. “But the FBI needed the information to prosecute Carl, and if we could help your sheriff close out a couple of murders, well, all the better. You were our best bet.”

  Best bet, Reece thought. He’d been the best bet of a vengeful public twenty-one years ago. The best bet for the murder of two women in North Carolina. Today he’d been the best bet to trick his brother into confessing he perpetrated a colossal mortgage fraud and that he framed Reece for murder, not once, but twice.

  “Looks like Carl will be prosecuted for murder before he will for fraud,” Dana said.

  Tobey craned his neck toward the back seat. “Double murder. Depends in which jurisdiction, North Carolina or Massachusetts. They can fight over him. Either way, he’ll be going away for a long, long time.”

  Reece mulled over those words. Going away for a long time. Knowing what they meant burned a hole in his gut.

  “Your investigator called it from the beginning,” Tobey said. “He felt sure forensics wouldn’t match Carl’s story. No powder burns on your shirt, for one thing, but hearing it in Carl’s words clinched it. Glad it worked out to your advantage.”

  Reece looked out the window, passing places from another life he didn’t recognize anymore. “Did it? Yeah, I guess it did. Somehow it’s bittersweet.”

  “At least before your father died he found out the truth,” Dana said.

  Reece turned to her. “Hardly comforting for him to realize that one son wasn’t the butcher he thought, but the other son was.”

  Inside the car they went silent for a few minutes until Tobey broke it. “I guess you’ll go back to your life in North Carolina, huh?”

  Reece took Dana’s hand without looking at her. “Yes.”

  Never since Jeraldine wangled his release from prison, had he felt truly free. People still thought he’d committed a heinous crime, no matter what the law said. He felt Dana next to him. Adjusting to freedom would be a lot easier now.

  * * * * *

  Dana didn’t think she’d ever seen a grin as wide as Jeraldine’s when they entered the police station. The attorney rushed to Reece and checked the blood stain on his shirt.

  “You okay, honey? We heard you went to the hospital.”

  “I’ll be fine, Jeri.”

  She drew Reece into her arms like a protective mother. Tears filled her eyes. “I wondered if this day would ever happen. What did Dr. King say? Something about free at last?”

  “That’s what everyone says,” Reece said. “It hasn’t sunk in yet.”

  Clarence waited his turn and pulled off a man hug. “You didn’t need me after all.”

  “Not true,” Reece said. “We wouldn’t be at this place without you.”

  “It’s all over, honey,” Jeraldine said. She pulled back, met Reece’s gaze with her own. “Nothing you could do about Carl. He made his bed.”

  “I know. Doesn’t mean I feel good about that part.”

  Reece’s smile seemed oddly strained, but genuine. His character didn’t allow him to forget Carl while he reveled in his freedom. Even though his brother had framed him for two murders and tried to kill him, Reece still empathized with what lay ahead for him. Because he knew.

  At that moment, Dana’s heart almost burst with a mixture of joy and sadness for the generous spirit of the man. She loved Reece more than she could imagine loving anyone, except her children. But a mother’s love differed from the love between a man and woman.

  Jeraldine completed the necessary paperwork, and a judge cleared Reece of all charges. Reece called Frank to tell him how things had worked out, and Frank invited everyone to his apartment for a celebration.

  “I’ll bring out the good stuff,” Frank said.

  * * * * *

  Frank looked better now than when Dana and Reece had first arrived in Lynn. The old man’s smile extended across his sunken face from ear to ear, and he found the energy to rise from his chair without help. Reece embraced him. Dana choked up and looked away before anyone saw.

  “Good scotch, the best Russian vodka, and Lana’s cooking,” Frank announced. “What could be better?”

  Laughter rang through the apartment. The people upstairs banged on their floor, a warning to keep down the noise. Frank yelled, “Shut up, we’re celebrating. Call the police if you don’t like it.”

  Reece laughed like Dana had never seen. Later, Reece called Mark Cabrini, Steve Yarrow, and Jordan Kraus, filled them in, and thanked them for standing behind him. They were sad calls, considering Carl turned out to be the culprit.

  Jeraldine and Clarence parted with more hugs, more words of getting together in North Carolina, more thanks. After they left, Dana phoned her sons. It was a long conversation of explanations and confessions and words of love. Tears came again, but this time she didn’t care if the whole world saw. Reece slipped his arm around her shoulders.

  When the two of them were in bed, Reece said, “I can say it now because I’m finally free. I love you.”

  “And I love you,” she said, “from the minute you called me a smart-ass.” Dana hadn’t mentioned what her sons told her about their father. This was Reece’s day, and she would do nothing to spoil it.

  “Settled, then,” Reece said, pulling her close. “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  The Bitter Truth

  Harold County, North Carolina

  Dana marveled at the sheer beauty of the rocks and stones and slate.

  “What do you think?” Reece asked, stepping back from the fireplace wall.

  “It’s more magnificent than I could have imagined.”

  Reece wiped his hands on a rag and nailed her with those smiling eyes. “I don’t think I’ll have as many moods as I used to. Somehow, I can’t get into one when I’m around you. But if I do, kick me in the ass.”

  He moved toward her. She loved the way he walked. Long strides, like a panther. He wore shorts and a T-shirt, his legs and arms muscled and tan. She loved everything about him, including the smile that curled his lips. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

  “I never thought you could be more beautiful than that early morning on the dock when the sight of you made everything bad disappear. But today, the happiness inside you shines through.”

  “Is this your way of softening me up to get me into bed?”

  “No, I mean it.” Reece rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been waiting to tell you something.”

  Dana’s heart sped up. Reece was in too good a mood for anything to be bad. Still, she couldn’t keep the tentative sound from her voice. “What?”

  “Nothing bad. Something good, really. There’s this guy in Tennessee. He was the first one to hire me to build a fireplace. Before all this mess, he asked me to send him pictures of my house. He liked what he saw and asked if I’d design something similar on the property he bought in the mountains, not far from here. Then all this happened and, well, building a house wasn’t on my mind. I talked to him this morning, and it’s a go.”

  “Oh, Reece. That’s fantastic.” Dana threw her arms around him and planted a kiss on his lips. “It couldn’t have come at a better time.”

  “Of course, there are a few problems. My license has long expired.” He laughed. “Over twenty years expired. I’ll have to check on the state requirements, take the boards, I don’t know. But I’m excited.”

  “And I’m excited for you. I—”

  The chimes interrupted, but this time Dana recognized the sound of her own doorbell. “Who could that be?”

  “I don’t know, but he’s not my best friend.”

  Dana went to the door and peeked through the glass panels. “He’s mine. It’s Harris.” She turned to Reece. “And Sheriff Payton.”

  Dana noticed the change in Reece’s demeanor. Some things would be hard to put behind him. A cop at the door was one of them.

  �
�Mind if we come in, Dana?”

  “No, no.” She nodded toward the sheriff and kissed Harris. “Come in to my new great room.”

  “Good to see you, Daughtry,” Payton said. “Glad that mess is settled.”

  “Me too,” Harris said.

  The men shook hands. Reece said, “Thanks. Not as glad as I am. I heard you had something to do with it, Sheriff. I appreciate it.”

  “Doing my job,” Payton said.

  The men looked at the wall. “Beautiful,” they chimed in together.

  Dana faced the work of art. “Isn’t it?”

  “Might want you to look at my fireplace,” Payton said. “I doubt I could afford you, though.”

  “We could reach an agreement,” Reece said, “as long as you didn’t think it was a bribe.”

  Payton pursed his lips, hiding a smirk. “Hmm, depends. Gotta think about that.”

  “Get to the point,” Dana said. “What about Robert?”

  “We thought you should hear it before it’s announced, so you can tell the boys,” Harris said.

  Payton took out a stick of gum, then shook his head and stuffed the pack back into his pocket. “The FBI arrested Robert this afternoon. They’re charging him with interfering with the judicial system, jury tampering, bribery, and inciting the murder of Lurena Howe. Probably some other charges too, when everything’s finished.”

  Dana sank into a chair. She couldn’t catch her breath. Reece sat on the arm and rubbed her neck. From what her boys had told her, she expected something like that, but it still hit hard.

  “Inciting the murder—so he could pin the murder on me?” Reece said.

  “Yup. You were his ticket to the big game—the World Series and Super Bowl all wrapped up in your conviction for the murder of two women. He figured it’d buy him some high office, senator or the governor’s mansion. Unfortunately, he partnered with a man even more unscrupulous than himself, a guy named Harry Klugh. Minette didn’t know Klugh was really Chicago hood Victor Castell. And Castell would cop to anything as long as he didn’t have to face the mob he screwed over twenty years ago.”