Vivian rolled her eyes and smiled. ‘All right. I’m going to set the table for lunch in the kitchen. When Dad gets back from church, we’ll eat.’ She started for the kitchen, and called back, as she reached the door, ‘I made egg salad.’
Jeremy grimaced in distaste, but Rob said, ‘Your grandmother makes the best egg salad in the world. Wait till you try it. You’re gonna love it.’
Jeremy shrugged, noncommittal. He was forcing open a DVD case and pulling out the disc. He inserted it into the DVD player, and pressed the play button on the remote, as Rob put his head back and let the relief of being home with his son and his parents wash over him. For a moment he pondered what his mother had said about Darcie. Was she right? To him, Darcie was always that little kid, hanging around the edges of what the bigger kids were doing. He had just never thought of her any other way. Although she had turned into a pretty young woman.
Rob felt his eyes drifting shut. As often happened, when he closed his eyes, he relived his accident. The fear he felt, as that jalopy-load of delinquents chased him on the expressway, ramming the side of his truck with their car while he tried to maintain control of the wheel, coursed through him again. Other drivers had whizzed by, not knowing or not caring what was happening to Rob as his truck began hydroplaning and heading for a tumble down the embankment along the highway.
Rob took a deep breath and forced himself to think about something else. He found himself picturing Darcie again, in a new light, and the thought of her gentle face was strangely soothing. Jeremy was getting ready to climb back up on to Rob’s chair. Suddenly, the doorbell rang.
‘Hey buddy, can you answer that?’ Rob asked. ‘I can’t get up that fast.’
‘Sure,’ said Jeremy eagerly. He turned and raced toward the front door. Vivian, hearing the bell, came out of the kitchen wiping her hands as Jeremy led a pair of men into the living room.
‘Cops,’ Jeremy whispered to his father.
The two officers tried not to grin. ‘I’m Detective Ortega,’ said the dark-haired man. This is my partner, Detective McMillen.’
Rob nodded to them both. ‘Is this about my accident?’ he asked.
The two men frowned at one another.
‘OK,’ said Rob. ‘So this is not about my accident.’
‘What happened to you?’ said Detective Ortega.
‘I got into an argument with a couple of kids who were drugged up,’ said Rob. ‘They followed me and ran me off the road. Your guys collared them. I thought that’s why you were here.’
‘No. We didn’t know anything about that. We’re here in regards to a man who was found murdered a few days ago.’
‘Murdered!’ Vivian exclaimed.
‘You gentlemen probably should sit down,’ said Rob. ‘Jeremy, why don’t you run up to your room and play for a little bit. We’ll watch the movie when the policemen leave.’
‘I want to hear this,’ said Jeremy, wide-eyed.
‘Go on, young man,’ said Vivian, ushering him up the stairs. ‘Scoot.’
Detective Ortega waited until Jeremy had disappeared up the stairs and then he continued. ‘Actually, I believe we’ve met before. We stopped by here one night when you were getting back from a trip. We were looking for information about a guy who had gotten a ticket on your street. An escaped convict named Norman Cook.’
‘Oh, right,’ said Rob. ‘I do remember that.’
‘A few days ago, we found his body, floating in the Schuylkill. Somebody had put two bullets in his head and dumped him.’
Rob shook his head. ‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Well, it turns out this Norman Cook was parked on your block because he was looking for your wife.’
‘My wife?’ Rob exclaimed.
‘Yes. Is she home? We’d like to speak to her.’
‘No. Actually. She . . . died.’
‘She did? When?’ asked Ortega.
‘On that trip you mentioned. We were on a cruise. She fell overboard.’
‘Oh yeah,’ said McMillen. ‘I heard something about that.’
Detective Ortega looked in his notebook, frowning. ‘And she never mentioned to you that this Norman Cook was here? I mean, I’m guessing, just from the fact that he got a parking ticket on your block, that he found her.’
Rob shook his head. ‘She never mentioned it to me. Why would an ex-con be looking for my wife?’
‘We were hoping you could tell us that.’
Rob shook his head. ‘I don’t know anything about it. What makes you think he was looking for her?’
‘Well, it seems he went to the main branch of the library and asked the librarian to help him with the computer. He hadn’t had any internet access in prison. He asked her to Google somebody for him. The librarian remembered him because it was unusual – a man his age not knowing how to use a search engine. After they found his body in the river, she saw his mug shot on the news and contacted us. Your name is Kendricks, right?’
‘Yes, but . . . I just . . . I can’t understand why Chloe wouldn’t have said something to me. I mean, if she met with this man . . . If he came to the house . . .’
‘Who’s Chloe?’ said Detective Ortega.
‘My wife,’ said Rob.
Ortega frowned at what was written in his notebook. ‘Your wife isn’t Lianna Kendricks?’
‘That’s my ex-wife,’ said Rob.
‘This guy was looking for Lianna Kendricks. It says she lived at this address.’
‘Well, she did, when we were married. She’s remarried now. She lives in Gladwyne.’
Detective Ortega shook his head. ‘I guess our boy came calling and found the wrong lady,’ he said.
‘I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t have mentioned it to me,’ said Rob.
Detective Ortega looked at Rob. ‘I don’t know. But judging from this parking ticket, I’d say they had themselves a visit.’
THIRTY-TWO
‘How long this time?’ Talia asked. She had just returned from the market and was putting groceries away in the kitchen.
Glen broke off a piece of the coffee cake which Olga, one of Estelle’s caretakers, had left on the counter. He stuffed it in his mouth and rolled his eyes.
‘That is fantastic,’ he said, pointing at the maimed cake.
‘Glen, I asked you a question,’ said Talia.
‘What?’ Glen asked impatiently.
‘How long are you staying this time?’
‘A little longer this time,’ said Glen. ‘I had to get out of the place I was living and it might take me a while to find something.’
‘You’re going to have to do your own shopping,’ said Talia. ‘I just got back from the store and I don’t have enough for you.’
‘Oh, we’ll make do,’ said Glen, breaking off another piece of the cake.
‘I mean it, Glen. This time I mean it.’
Glen came around the counter and tickled his older sister, who squirmed away from him. ‘Quit it,’ she said, irritably.
‘I’ll even cook for you,’ he said. ‘I’ll make my specialties. We’ll call Shelby.’
‘She won’t come. She’s mad at me.’
‘Why?’ Glen asked.
‘I wouldn’t do something she wanted.’
‘What?’
‘Oh, it’s not worth talking about,’ said Talia wearily.
‘No, really, I’m interested.’
‘She keeps trying to find somebody to blame for her daughter falling off that boat. First it was me. Now, she’s on to someone else.’
‘What has all that got to do with you?’ Glen asked.
‘Nothing,’ said Talia exclaimed. ‘I don’t want anything to do with it. But she’s got it into her head that it’s some guy . . .’
‘What guy? That’s kind of vague.’
‘I don’t know. But she wanted me to hack into his bank records. As if I would do that. I could lose my position.’
‘Really?’ said Glen, frowning. ‘This sounds serious. Who was it?’
Ta
lia sighed. ‘I don’t know. Somebody Faith knows.’
‘Faith, your assistant?’
‘Yes. Some doctor. Now leave me alone.’
‘I think I’ll call Shelby and invite her over,’ said Glen. ‘I want to hear about this.’
‘Glen, I told you, there’s not even enough food for you.’
‘Maybe I’ll pay her a visit.’
‘Why don’t you go stay at her place? She’s got room,’ Talia said.
‘Oh, come on now,’ said Glen, mischievously. ‘You’d miss me.’
‘No, I wouldn’t,’ said Talia.
‘You don’t remember who it was? Who Shelby was tracking?’
‘No. I wasn’t paying attention. I have to go check on Mother. And stop eating that cake.’
Talia left the kitchen. Glen sat at the counter, thinking. He walked over to the wall phone and picked up the receiver. Thumbtacked to the wall beside it was a list of numbers. Shelby’s home number and her cell were listed. Glen tried them both. There was no answer. Both went directly to voice mail.
‘Shelby,’ he said. ‘It’s Glen. I’m at Estelle’s house. Give me a call. I’m . . . Just give me a call.’
He hung up and sat back down at the counter. He broke off another piece of the cake and chewed it meditatively. Then he went back to the phone and ran his finger down the list of numbers. Talia’s assistant’s number was listed there. He thought about calling her, but then decided it would be too hard to explain who he was, and what he wanted to know.
Better to wait for Shelby to call back. He couldn’t help feeling a little proud of himself. He was the one who suggested that maybe there was some kind of conspiracy around Chloe’s death. Even though she had dismissed him at the time, Shelby had obviously paid attention to what he said. Come around to his way of thinking, so to speak. Not that he was going to rub it in that he’d been right. But what was that old saying – sometimes even paranoid people do have enemies? She was seeing it his way now.
Shelby awoke lying on her back, with a bright light in her face, and no idea where she was. Everything was a blank. She tried to move her arms, and realized that she was immobilized on some sort of table. And then she remembered. Harris Janssen. He had given her a shot that knocked her out. She had no idea how long she had been out. Or where he had taken her. She tried to let out a cry, but there was a handkerchief across her mouth, which was tied behind her head. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her blurry vision, and turned her head to the side. She was looking at a beige wall, on which hung a framed painting of a seashore scene in pastel colors.
Shelby struggled, but could not move. She turned her head to the other side and saw a counter and cabinets. On the countertop were syringes, test tube racks, and a blood-pressure cuff hooked on a metal stand.
‘Oh, you’re awake,’ he said. He came and stood beside the table, looming over her. He was not wearing a lab coat, but simply weekend casual clothes. He met her gaze apologetically.
‘Please believe me, Shelby,’ Harris said. ‘I never meant for any of this to happen.’
Shelby tried to speak behind her gag, but it was no use. All that came out were noises and grunts.
‘Turn your head,’ Harris said.
Frowning, Shelby did as she was told. Harris untied the gag and gently pulled it loose from Shelby’s mouth.
Shelby began to scream. Or at least, she tried to scream. What came out was a hoarse, strangled cry.
‘Don’t. Don’t bother with that,’ said Harris. ‘We’re all alone here. Nobody’s going to hear you.’
Shelby tried to lick her lips with her tongue, although her tongue felt swollen, and too dry to moisten her cracked lips. Harris frowned. Then he disappeared from her field of vision, and she heard water running. In a moment, he returned, and dabbed her lips with a swab that looked like a large Q-tip.
She started to thank him, and then realized how ridiculous that was. It was his doing that she was a prisoner here. ‘Is this your office?’ she asked. She remembered that Harris’s office was only a few blocks from the neuroscience center at Jefferson Hospital. On weekdays it was a bustling area. On Sundays you could park a Winnebago on the street with no problem.
Harris nodded. ‘This is my examining room. The office is closed on Sunday. There’s no one here. There’s no one in the whole building.’
Shelby closed her eyes. ‘How did you get me in here? Someone must have seen you.’
‘There’s a service elevator at the back of the building,’ he said. ‘It really wasn’t difficult. Look, I’ll be honest with you. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. After your call, I just knew I had to act quickly. I need some time to think. I didn’t know where else to take you.’
Shelby felt sick at heart, realizing she inadvertently let him know that she suspected him. Now, it seemed, all her effort was for nothing.
Harris fiddled with some apparatus on the examining table, and Shelby was startled to feel the table starting to rise at her waist. In a few moments, she was in a sitting-up position, though still securely strapped to the table, her hands pinned with cloth wraps.
‘There,’ he said, sitting down in a swivel chair opposite her. ‘It makes it easier to talk. I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt Chloe. You have to believe me. Things have spun completely out of control.’
Shelby gazed at him balefully. ‘My daughter thought the world of you,’ she said. ‘She admired you so much.’
Harris lowered his gaze.
‘How could you do this?’ Shelby asked. ‘You had her murdered.’
Harris’s face bunched up, almost as if he was experiencing pain. ‘How did you know? How did you find out? I mean, that 800 call was no shot in the dark. You already suspected me.’
Shelby felt a small, worthless feeling of satisfaction, to think that she had stumbled across the clues that led her to his terrible secret and he didn’t know how. She was not about to satisfy his curiosity. At least, not until he satisfied hers. ‘Why did you have my daughter killed?’ she asked.
‘Look, Shelby, you probably won’t believe me,’ said Harris. ‘But if it had just been about me, I wouldn’t have . . . I would never have hurt Chloe. She was a lovely girl. I was fond of her. But she was always a little bit jealous of Lianna. And a little vindictive, to tell the truth.’
Shelby stared at him. ‘You killed her because she was jealous of Lianna?’
‘No, no, of course not,’ said Harris. ‘And by the way, just to set the record straight, you were all too quick to assume that your daughter had gone through Lianna’s medical records to find out about Molly’s father. Chloe would never have done that. She was far too professional to do something like that. It would never have occurred to her. You should have realized that.’
‘Don’t you dare,’ said Shelby. ‘You’re defending my daughter to me. You bastard.’
‘I don’t blame you for being angry,’ he said.
‘Why?’ she pleaded. ‘Why did you have to . . .’ She couldn’t continue. Tears slid down her cheeks and fell on her shirt.
He sat on the swivel chair, frowning. His feet, in sturdy shoes, were planted on the floor, his arms folded across his chest. He looked, for all the world, like a doctor trying gently to reveal a difficult diagnosis to a patient.
He sighed. ‘A few weeks ago, a man named Norman Cook showed up at their house – Chloe and Rob’s house. He was Molly’s real father. He had come looking for Lianna, but he found Chloe, who was only too happy to listen. Imagine her surprise – Molly was not Rob’s child! She finally had something major on Lianna. Chloe gave Norman Cook our address. Told him how Lianna had left Rob and married me. After he left, she started thinking it over, and I guess she got a little worried. She showed up at my office determined to tell me all about it.’
Shelby shook her head helplessly. ‘I don’t get it. None of you seemed to care that much about Molly’s real father. Why did Chloe have to die, just because she knew?’
Harris sighed.
‘Because by the time Chloe came to see me, Norman Cook was already dead. I had killed him.’
Shelby gasped. ‘You . . . Oh my God.’
‘What Chloe didn’t know – what Norman Cook didn’t tell her – was that he had escaped from prison a week earlier. He was doing life for killing a clerk and a customer at a convenience store. One of the people he killed was a medical student – some Indian kid with a wife and young baby – tragic. The police knew he had an accomplice, but he never gave up the name of his accomplice. The police thought it was another boy. Actually, it was a young woman. It was Lianna. Cook knew Lianna was pregnant with his child, so he took the fall, and kept quiet. At least, that’s how he saw it. He thought he was her knight in shining armor.
‘I’m sure she didn’t have anything to do with the killings. She’s much too gentle a creature. But, she was there. She did run.
‘Anyway, after Cook was arrested, Lianna married Rob. She told Norman it was just to have someone help her support the baby. He wasn’t happy about it, but he endured it. Then she stopped writing to him and he started getting angry. That’s no way to treat a knight in shining armor.
‘When he arrived in Philly, and Chloe told him that Lianna had married again, was pregnant again, he became incensed. He came to our house. I was the only one home at the time. I was completely stunned. He was raving. He told me that he was going to expose Lianna as his accomplice in that convenience store killing. He said it would almost make it worth it to go back to prison. Just to know that she would have to go to prison too. That she would have to suffer.
‘I tried to reason with him. I offered him anything he wanted. I offered to fix him up with a car and money and time to get away, but he wasn’t interested. He knew the cops were hot on his tail, and would catch up with him before long. The only thing he wanted in this world – the only desire he had left – was for revenge. He wanted Lianna to pay.
‘I knew he meant it. I couldn’t let that happen,’ Harris said.
‘You killed him?’ Shelby said.
‘He had a gun. I used it. I dumped the body in the Schuylkill,’ Harris said. Then he sighed. ‘Chloe was the only one who knew he had come to our house. Because she sent him. Of course she was itching to tell Rob about Molly’s real father, but she wanted to wait until the cruise was over. I’m listening to her tell me this, and thinking that I had to do something quickly.’
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