The Closer He Gets

by Janice Kay Johnson

  He might as well be blunt. “Ms. Womack, I think you can guess what I’m driving at. My sister’s murder was never solved. I’m determined to find who was responsible. I’m guessing our elementary school principal didn’t tell the assembly that Sheila was raped before being strangled.”

  He thought he heard a quiet gasp on the other end.

  Continuing, he said, “I understand your mother received sole custody of you and your sister after the divorce. That’s unusual. Your father was at our house often enough around that time to have seen something of Sheila and to know which bedroom was hers. He might conceivably even have had a key to the house.”

  He paused but she said nothing.

  “Look, I’m a stranger to you. I understand your discomfort with what I’m asking. I can give you some references if you want to check on me before you tell me anything more. I’d also be glad to meet with you.”

  Her voice was so soft he had to strain to hear her. “What is it you want to know?”

  She had to have guessed. He took a breath and asked anyway. “Did he molest you or your sister?”

  Before he could finish with the rest of the question—or do you know if he was ever accused of molesting any other little girls?—she answered, “Yes.” Voice firmer, she repeated, “Yes, he did. But...not until later. I was almost twelve the first time.”

  Stunned by feelings more complicated than he would have expected, Zach closed his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Sorrier than I can say.”

  “Yes, well...” Her shrug, unseen, could be heard in her voice, as could her bitterness.

  “Your sister?” he asked gently.

  “Does it matter?” she snapped.

  Ripping open someone else’s wound was never pleasant. “It does if he started in on her way younger than he did with you.”

  He waited out a long silence.

  “Yes,” she said in a muffled voice. “He...molested her, too.” Raped her. “But not when she was younger. It was the same age as with me. When I found out about Shelby, I told my mother. She took us and left Dad that same day. I felt sick. I could have prevented Shelby from being... I still don’t know why I was so sure Mom wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Because he convinced you,” he said, almost harshly.

  She did nothing but breathe for what had to be a minute, then whispered, “Yes.”

  It was none of Zach’s business but... “How old were you? When you told?”

  “Fifteen. I was so afraid.” Her shame could still be heard. “But when I found Shelby sobbing and she told me—”

  “I understand.”

  Zach was ashamed of himself, because for his own reasons he’d actually hoped she’d admit to having been molested by her father. Tunnel vision. He hadn’t thought of her.

  Then he paid attention to the uneasiness awakened by what she’d said. “Are you sure about her first time? Your sister’s, I mean? When you found her crying?”

  “Yes. Why would she lie about that? She was almost exactly the same age I’d been.”

  “Eleven.”

  “Yes.”

  They talked for a few more minutes. Her mother had eventually remarried, she told him, but not until her daughters were grown and gone.

  Andrea’s hostility didn’t reawaken until he asked for her mother’s phone number.

  “I don’t want you bothering her. She had a really hard time. Don’t you understand?” She was almost hysterical. “I’ve already told you more than I probably should. Leave her out of this!”

  Realizing there wasn’t a thing he could do for her, Zach thanked her for her honesty and let her go.

  He wondered if Andrea Womack would sleep at all tonight.

  He dropped his phone on the coffee table and met Tess’s eyes. She’d closed and set aside her book, and was watching him steadily.

  “That son of a bitch,” he growled.

  “Both daughters,” Tess murmured.

  “Yep.”

  “So...it really might have been him.”

  “Yeah,” he said hoarsely.

  “How could police back then not know?”

  “Because he hadn’t molested either daughter yet.”

  Tess somehow radiated compassion and worry both. “Do you think Sheila was...well...his first? That he’d somehow kept himself from touching his own daughters even though he was thinking about sex with children?”

  Zach shook his head. “I don’t know. What she told me doesn’t entirely fit. He went for his daughters when they were entering puberty. Almost twelve years old for both. Sheila was half that age. If he liked girls when they were that young, why didn’t he start in on his own two way earlier?”

  “Because...what he did to Sheila shocked him?”

  “Maybe.” He didn’t like the doubt he was feeling, but couldn’t deny it, either. “It’s also possible Andrea lied. She might not want to admit even to herself how long it had been going on.” But he remembered Nolte saying he’d talked to her teacher and the school counselor, and had gotten no vibes whatsoever to suggest she was being molested. “Or her sister lied.”

  “You didn’t get the mother’s phone number, did you?” Tess asked.

  “No, she flipped out. Maybe the stepfather doesn’t know the history?”

  “Or...there’s something she doesn’t want her mother telling you,” Tess said slowly.

  He mulled that over. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you going to call the sister?”

  “Yeah, although what do you want to bet big sister is already on the phone with her? Which will mean Shelby won’t answer.”

  “Probably,” Tess agreed. She watched him brood for a minute then patted the cushion beside her. “Do you want to come over here?”

  “Yeah.” He cleared his voice. “I would.”

  Sunday, after talking to his mother, he had come perilously close to telling Tess that he needed her. Somehow he’d kept the words to himself. Close to saying the same thing now, he held back again. Admitting as much even to himself still scared him.

  To think he’d always considered himself even-tempered, not given to a lot of emotion. Maybe in returning to his hometown he had opened his own Pandora’s box.

  Most of the consequences so far had been unintentional but powerful: meeting Tess, opening a schism in the sheriff’s department, coming face-to-face with his long-lost brother.

  Now, he might have severed the bonds between him and his mother, who, despite his complicated feelings for her, had been his only remaining family. Tonight, he’d upset a nice woman who might have tucked her memories of sexual abuse safely away until he had prodded them to life again. He was obviously pissing people off at the city police department as well as the county sheriff’s department.

  I’m a man of talent, he thought wryly.

  Of course, if he hadn’t come back to town, Tess might have been the only witness to Hayes beating Alvarez to death. Would she have been believed? He didn’t like thinking about how much more vulnerable she’d have been to threats if she’d stood alone.

  So, unlike Pandora, he’d released some good along with the bad. He seemed to have a brother again. And he had Tess.

  Short term, remember?

  * * *

  “SAM DOYLE,” THE MAN on the porch said, beaming. He held a clipboard tucked under his arm. “We Care Plumbing. Are you Mr. Carter?”

  Oh, yeah, this was him. Still handsome and sporting a goatee. Which Mom would like. Dark hair with a little silver at the temples. Lean but solid instead of thin and lanky. Zach’s gaze dropped to the wedding ring on his finger.

  “I am.” Zach let him in but didn’t start for the bathroom. “Formerly Zach Murphy. You did a plumbing repair on my parents’ house, if I remember correc
tly.”

  Doyle’s smile fell away and alarm flickered in his gray eyes. He wrinkled his brow, as if searching his memory. “Uh, Murphy. Do they live here in town? I can’t seem to recall...”

  “I think you do. I’m betting you remember Gayle Murphy with no trouble at all.”

  The guy had the guts to stand his ground. “What’s this about?” he asked.

  “This is about my sister’s murder and the fact that you’d been around our house a lot by then. Could be my mother even gave you a key.”

  Doyle’s jaw tightened. “No, she didn’t. And the only time I ever remember seeing your sister was when I came out to fix that leak.”

  “But you came back, didn’t you?”

  To his credit, he held Zach’s gaze. “I’m not proud of it, but, yes, I did.”

  “What did she do, ask you to tea?”

  “She set me up, just like you did this morning. Called and asked for me, said she and your dad were thinking about adding another bathroom. They’d been impressed with my competence. And then she came on to me.”

  Zach stared at him, unblinking.

  “I was a twenty-one-year-old kid! Flattered. It scared me a little, thinking she might want to leave your dad for me. I still lived at home,” he said, his mouth twisting at the memory of his own immaturity. “But, Gayle...she was like a fairy princess. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” His voice was heavy.

  Zach’s long-held anger deserted him just like that. When he was that age, would he have said no to a beautiful older woman just because she was married? Of course not. Her marriage was her business, he’d have figured. At some point he’d gotten a little more particular, but at twenty-one?

  What Mom and Sam Doyle did in bed wasn’t the point here.

  “What about Sheila? Did she look like a fairy princess, too?” he asked.

  “Your sister? Like I said, the only time I ever saw her was that night when the pipes in your house sprang a leak. If not for what happened, I wouldn’t even be able to picture her. All I remember is that there were some kids and one of ’em had red hair. Guess that wasn’t you.”

  “My older brother.”

  He nodded, but his eyes were unfocused, as if he wasn’t seeing Zach standing in front of him anymore. “Then I read about what happened to that little girl. I’d, uh, been with your mom only the day before. That made it worse. It got all tangled up in my head. I couldn’t figure out why God would have hurt your sister if it was me and your mom He was mad at.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “She never called me again, you know.”

  He was seeing Zach now, pain in his eyes. “I wouldn’t have come if she had,” he concluded with a simple honesty Zach had to believe.

  “You’re married?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I told Marianne about Gayle and about the worst tragedy this town has ever seen. She’s a good person, Marianne is.” Doyle shook his head. “I’m sorry for what happened to your family, Mr. Carter.”

  “Were you aware of whether my mother had other lovers while you were seeing her?” Zach asked.

  The man’s cheeks heated. “I was only sleeping with her for a couple weeks. Don’t know when she’d have had time. Most days we, uh, got together during my lunch break.”

  “You should know I’m a cop. A deputy with the sheriff’s department.” Zach made his voice hard. “If you’ve ever been accused of molesting young girls, or even touching one in a suspicious way, I’ll find out.”

  Clearly affronted, Doyle straightened. “Look all you want. I would never do anything like that. It’s disgusting! I have a daughter myself. If some man had ever even looked at her that way—” He broke off, breathing hard.

  Zach nodded. “I appreciate you talking to me. You have every reason to be mad I got you here under false pretenses.”

  “Why did you?” He seemed honestly puzzled. “Why didn’t you just call to ask me your questions?”

  “Most people I want to talk to are dodging me.”

  “They might have something to hide, but I don’t.” He raised his eyebrows. “Are we done?”

  Some strange impulse seized Zach. “It so happens, I do need a plumber. I understand if you don’t want to give me a bid, under the circumstances.”

  Sam Doyle actually chuckled. “I have a boy in college and a girl who is a senior in high school and has already been accepted to Pacific Lutheran University. Do you know what four years of college costs these days? Got to tell you, what I couldn’t turn down at twenty-one and what I can’t turn down now are two different things.”

  What could Zach do but laugh and lead the way to the bathroom, bare but for corroded pipes?

  * * *

  GREG HAD LEFT for a quick lunch and then on to take measurements for carpet and vinyl installations at a couple different houses, leaving Tess alone for what she’d known would be a good part of the afternoon.

  She smiled and called, “Thanks for stopping by,” when a couple who’d been studying blinds left at two-thirty. She felt barely a flicker of apprehension at being alone in the store. Except for the creepy photograph left in Zach’s mailbox at work, it had been several weeks since she’d so much as had a phone threat.

  Given the down time, she wandered the store to study some of the new carpets and vinyl flooring Greg had added. She had to be familiar with all the stock, just as he did.

  The bell tinkled when the front door opened and she turned. The happiness she felt when she glimpsed an olive-green uniform was immediately supplanted by apprehension. Something had to be wrong. Why else would Zach stop by in the middle of the afternoon without calling first?

  And then she saw that the deputy who had entered wasn’t Zach. She didn’t recognize this man. He wasn’t any of the cops who’d helped on the roofing party, Tess was sure.

  Despite her sudden wariness, she smiled. “May I help you?”

  “I’ll just look around for a minute,” he said, and prowled toward the back of the store.

  It wasn’t his fault, of course, but he reminded her unpleasantly of Andrew Hayes. He looked as though he spent a lot of time lifting weights to build those muscles and thicken his neck, and his head was nearly shaved. She couldn’t help noticing that he wasn’t really checking out any of the flooring samples and he hadn’t even glanced at the blinds. Most people who came in the store wanted to touch. To feel the nap of carpets or the texture of tiles or vinyl flooring. They smoothed their fingers over planks of hardwood.

  Tess grew more and more uneasy as he peered into the nook where tiles were displayed and then the room with wallpaper books. He disappeared briefly from sight and she heard a door opening and closing. Was he using the restroom?

  No, because he came into sight again, sauntering toward her. He must have opened the door just to find out whether anyone was in there. He’d quit making any pretense of glancing around.

  She moved a few steps closer to the front of the store and the big picture windows. No pedestrians were in sight.

  The cop raked her with his gaze as he approached. She fought the instinct to back up even when he stepped a lot closer than she was comfortable with.

  “Alone in here, are you, Ms. Granath?”

  “Momentarily.” She raised her eyebrows. “I take it you’re not interested in new flooring.”

  He sneered. “Just wanted to see what a woman willing to lie to get a good cop in trouble looks like.”

  Fortified by anger, she slowly, insolently, crossed her arms. It gave her some pleasure that, despite this paramilitary creep’s bulk, their eyes were level. He might have more muscle than her, but he wasn’t any taller. She strove to sound confused. “I know some good cops, but I haven’t gotten any of them in trouble.”

  He bared his teeth and leaned in. “You know who I’m talking about, bitch. What, were you spreading your legs for that
chico?”

  She rolled her eyes. Really? Was that the best he could come up with as a slur, calling Antonio a little boy? Or was he being considerate in deference to her feminine sensibilities? Yeah, probably not.

  “Am I meant to be insulted? If so, it didn’t work. Antonio seemed like a pleasant man. Obviously, Andrew Hayes’s girlfriend agreed with me.” She stuck out her chin, matching the creep’s body language. “I’m hoping she didn’t realize her boyfriend was so crazy, he’d kill a man just because he dared talk to her.”

  “Well, here’s something to think about.” He stepped back. “Watch yourself when you’re out on county roads. You end up in a head-on collision? We’re going to be real slow bringing the jaws of life to pull you out.” He shook his head. “Got to give a little to get a little, Ms. Granath.”

  He turned and walked away. The bell attached to the top of the door rang and he was gone.

  Her anger swirled and disappeared down the drain, taking all her starch with it. Tess discovered her knees were knocking and her legs felt like Jell-O. With a whimper, she sank onto a heap of carpet samples, where she did nothing but tremble for several minutes.

  Not until her hand had quit shaking did she reach for her phone.

  * * *

  “WHAT DO YOU mean you didn’t see a name?” Zach scowled at her over the dinner table. “It should have been right here.” He tapped his T-shirt right where the nameplate would presumably have been pinned on a uniform shirt.

  “I looked. He must have taken it off.”

  “Describe him again.”

  He was mad that she’d called Detective Easley instead of him. And, since Easley apparently didn’t work on Mondays, all she’d done was leave a voice mail. As she had repeatedly pointed out to Zach, the man today hadn’t committed a crime. He hadn’t even threatened to come after her. All he’d said was that she wouldn’t get very good service from the sheriff’s department. Knowing it would make him even more furious, she hadn’t repeated the jaws-of-life reference, only saying that they wouldn’t hurry to help if she were to be in an accident, and Zach himself had once said the same.

  Now she patiently did her best to describe the deputy again. The lack of distinguishing features clearly annoyed Zach all over again.