Requiem for Innocence

by BV Lawson

  “It wasn’t breaking. I have a key Beth gave me.”

  “How long ago?”

  “It was left over from when I lived there. She never asked for it back.”

  “I’m not sure a judge or jury will make that distinction. What were you looking for after all this time?”

  Barry shuffled his feet. “A picture.”

  “You mean a photo?”

  “It was a good one, of her on the beach. I wanted to paint it. And, I guess I wanted something small to remind me of her.”

  “Virginia said you made that painting and were going to enter it in a competition.”

  “Yeah, it kind of painted itself. I often take weeks on one work. This took one day.”

  For a moment, Barry looked like a small boy—not the frightened face of a child who lost the only mother he’d known, more a childlike wonder. As when the greatest of life’s revelations are prompted by something as small as holding a firefly in your hand. That same look had covered Virginia’s face as she scanned the paintings in the art gallery.

  “I know you cared deeply for Beth, Barry. And I don’t believe you killed her. But someone did, and that same someone may be gunning for Virginia. I need you to think hard about your time with Beth. Anything that might hint at why someone wanted to hurt her.”

  Barry stared at the ceiling. Hopefully, thinking. Drayco glanced at the clock on the wall. They didn’t have a lot more time.

  Barry switched his gaze to the table, still not saying anything. Then he rubbed his eyes, almost hitting himself in the face with the handcuffs. “Before Arnold’s death, I would have named him. Beth kept Arnold on a tight leash so he wouldn’t get into trouble. He resented it. They had a lot of nasty arguments. The one other time I’ve seen Beth argue with anybody was a year ago.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Guess it’s okay to talk about it now. I was afraid Beth might get in trouble if I mentioned it before. I saw her and Winthrop Gatewood going at it. Thought at first it was over the rent.”

  “But it wasn’t?”

  “Only overheard part of it. Beth said she kept her promise, and she got rid of it, so it wasn’t her fault.”

  “And that was it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What do you think it meant?”

  Barry hesitated. “At the time, guess I thought they were referring to an abortion. You know, maybe Gatewood knocked some girl up. Not Beth,” he hastened to add.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Beth hated him. Whenever she mentioned his name, she got all tense. And you know what they say, if looks could kill.”

  The same deputy who brought Barry in reappeared and pointed at his watch. When Barry rose out of his chair, he didn’t have the same defeated posture as when Drayco arrived. He gave a thumbs up and grinned at the deputy.

  Before he could leave, Drayco said, “One more thing, Barry. Would you mind showing me your ankle and lower leg?”

  Barry hesitated, then reached down with both cuffed hands and raised one pant leg as far as he could. Drayco smiled and said, “Thanks. We’ll talk again soon.”

  When Barry and the deputy had left, Drayco noticed Nelia was standing in the doorway. She asked, “How’d it go?”

  “Did you get a good look at the leg?”

  “Um hmm. Nice dark color. I’d say he’s a boy who isn’t allergic to shorts and has spent some time in the sun.”

  “Looked that way to me, too.”

  Sheriff Sailor strode up behind Detective Tyler, “What looks that way to you?”

  Nelia replied, “I’ll fill you in later.” She looked at Drayco then back to the sheriff who was scowling.

  Sailor’s displeasure radiated off him as he said, “You know the first thing Barry said when we brought him in? The first thing he asked was, ‘Is this about that piano wire?’”

  Drayco ran a hand through his hair. “When I saw the wire at the shop and Barry told me the things they use it for, I double-checked his story. It’s a common practice.”

  Sailor leaned against the wall. “Piano wire was used to kill Arnold Sterling. The shop where Barry works is one of the few places that stocks that wire locally. And yet you didn’t find it relevant.”

  “Because the wire didn’t come from there.”

  “And how would you know that? Some super-pianist sixth sense?”

  “I stopped by Haffey’s after Barry’s arrest to get a closer look at their wire. I didn’t have a wire gauge or micrometer on me, but I used a ruler app on my smartphone. Haffey’s wire is twenty-two gauge, thicker than the twelve gauge used on Arnold Sterling. The real murderer could pick up that wire anywhere.”

  A vein on the side of Sailor’s face was twitching, and his clenched jaw wasn’t helping. “The real murderer, Drayco? You gonna fill me in or should I hand over my badge right now in surrender?”

  “Come on, Sheriff. Deep down you know as well as I do, it can’t be Barry Farland.”

  “Another wild theory of yours, Drayco? You’re fast and loose with those, as I recall.”

  “If you mean wild as with our half-insane nurse in D.C., then no. I wish it were. Pure greed—that takes a cold, calculated, and very sane mind.”

  “You’re thinking Quintier?”

  “Tell you what. I’ve got a few things to check into. Then I’ll come around later today and fill you in. No withholding. And that’s a promise.”

  Sailor’s shoulders relaxed an inch. “So what’s next in your Save Barry campaign?”

  “Next? I’ve got a meeting with the devil.”

  “Should I send someone along in case he gets free and easy with that pitchfork?”

  “Thanks for the offer, but that would spook him.”

  Drayco didn’t put it past the sheriff to have him followed. As he left the building, he didn’t see a tail. He dialed a familiar number, half-hoping he’d connect in person, half-hoping for voicemail. Luck fell on the side of the latter, so he left a message. “Darcie, it’s me. Something’s come up, and I can’t make it tonight. I’ll try to catch you later.”

  She’d been calling and leaving him messages several times a day. He wasn’t a one-night-stand kinda guy. Neither was he sure he should pursue this—this whatever it was—with Darcie when he couldn’t decipher how he felt about her. There was a lot of duplicity in this case, from the D.C. killer-nurse to both Sterlings and their secrets, to the Quintiers and beyond. And he didn’t want to add to the moral body count. He’d deal with those demons later. The devil was in his immediate future.

  50

  The thunderhead formed too far over the water to bring much relief to the parched Cape Unity aquifers and appropriately named panicgrass. But the breezes it generated were a welcome change. Drayco marveled at the billowing column of clouds leading like stairs to the anvil-top above. Somewhere out over the ocean, a downpour rained on the tuna, dolphin, and marlin. As if it mattered to them. The storm was moving away from shore, and Drayco guessed the boat would be safe trailing along behind.

  Caleb Quintier asked Drayco to join him this time, but he wasn’t alone. A booming cobalt-and-orange-tinged bass voice signaled the presence of Efron Thawley before the figure bending over the tie-off line turned around.

  “Ah. There you are, Drayco. So glad you could join us.” Caleb had a knack for making greetings resemble threats. “This is my associate, Efron Thawley.”

  Drayco shook hands with Thawley, whose features remained passive. Drayco asked Quintier, “What’s the agenda this time?”

  “Thought we’d take another fishing trip since the last one was so pleasant. Another of my favorite hangouts.”

  Translation, another isolated spot. Drayco hopped on board, with some reservation. Did the presence of Thawley mean Quintier learned of their meeting? The boat headed out faster this time, the shore vanishing within minutes. As with their first trip, Caleb maneuvered the boat until it was away from sight of any others, then cut the motor. Drayco kept his hand casually by his side, close to
his gun pocket.

  If Quintier were aware of Drayco’s meeting with Thawley, he didn’t give any indication. He was as relaxed as a loose thread. Quintier seated himself on a ledge so he was above Drayco’s level, with Thawley positioned behind him.

  “I hear you’ve been doing a little dry-land fishing, Drayco.” Caleb oozed swagger out of every pore. “Ordinarily that wouldn’t be any of my business. As it turns out, you were casting around into matters that are very much my business.”

  Drayco sprawled against the seat cushions, hoping he looked more comfortable than he felt. “Oh?” he replied.

  “I’ve survived in a sea of sharks by learning how to swim with them. Think like them. Or make them think as I do. Through the years, I’ve developed a few connections in high places that help me stay alive. One of those connections called me the other day. He had news you were inquiring with certain legal and government officials about one of my pet projects. What some folks unkindly call a pyramid scheme.”

  “Did your connection say how helpful those officials were?”

  Quintier smiled at Drayco’s ploy. They each knew Quintier’s source could play both sides, and Quintier might not be the wiser. But his self-confidence never wavered.

  Quintier scanned the open water around them. “Some of those sharks I mentioned swim in these waters from time to time. Sometimes all they need is bait.” He jumped from his perch and strode over to stand in front of Drayco. He motioned to Thawley, who moved behind Caleb.

  Quintier stopped smiling. His face never registered a hint of animus as if it couldn’t be bothered wasting the time and energy. “Can you give me one good reason why we shouldn’t test our shark theory using you as the bait?”

  Drayco flashed Quintier his best hail-fellow-well-met grin and said, “Why don’t I give you two.”

  Caleb said, “I’m listening.”

  “First of all, I just came from the county jail where I mentioned to a couple of sheriff’s deputies where I was headed, namely out here with you.”

  “You could be bluffing.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I was hired by Freaky Farland on behalf of his recently arrested son, who I was visiting at said jail.”

  “You said two reasons.”

  “I don’t work for the FBI anymore, Quintier. Nor do I work for the FTC. If they want to pursue your pyramid schemes, so be it. I’m looking out for the interests of two kids, Barry Farland and Virginia Harston. And trying to solve Beth Sterling’s murder in the process. I’ve found out what I need to know about your scheme—namely it has no direct bearing on those three people I mentioned.”

  Caleb sat next to Drayco and waved his arm dismissively toward Thawley. “Are you a gambling man, Drayco?”

  “I gamble all the time. With hunches, not money.”

  “Pity. You’d be good at it. Then, I rely on those souls who aren’t very good. So you’re still trying to snag Beth’s killer. Best of luck.”

  “Tell me, Quintier. Why did you allow Beth to pay off Arnold Sterling’s debts in installments? You’re hardly the banking executive type.”

  “It’s not the money I crave as much as it is the game, the challenge. If you welsh on me, I get a little cross. But if you make a good faith effort to hold up your end of the deal, I’m okay with that.”

  “You didn’t question where Beth was getting the money to repay you?”

  Quintier laughed. “As long as it’s non-counterfeit green, I don’t care where it comes from.”

  “Since we’re being nice and friendly here, would you mind telling me why you were selling a couple of items at Tallent’s store? A turquoise-studded gold locket and a pink enamel pocket watch. A bit dainty for your taste.”

  “I don’t suppose it matters. Winthrop Gatewood gave them to me in partial payment of a debt. I took them to Tallent myself to make sure they were as valuable as Gatewood said. All nice and legal.”

  “Did he tell you they belonged to his wife?”

  “Didn’t say. I didn’t ask.”

  Drayco reached his hand into the cool sea spray from the waves lapping up on the sides of the boat. Despite the breeze, beads of sweat played tag on his arms. “Winthrop has trouble holding on to that fortune of his.”

  “Yes. It’s unfortunate.” Quintier grinned at his joke.

  “But not for you.”

  “Winthrop provided me with a tidy income over the years, against his will. He didn’t inherit a single financial gene from his father.”

  “Bad investments?”

  “And bad judgment. Had all those businesses but didn’t know how to run them. Had rental property and then didn’t charge rent.”

  “Didn’t charge rent?”

  “The Sterlings never paid a dime.”

  Drayco had no reason to doubt Quintier’s word on this, but it was the first he’d heard of the arrangement. Gatewood was charging Beth’s brother-in-law rent for the three months of the temporary lease. Perhaps Winthrop and Beth were involved in a relationship after all, despite Barry’s feelings to the contrary. Or the real reason was deeper and uglier than a mere affair.

  Drayco asked, “Why this act of charity on Gatewood’s part?”

  “For the life of me, I can’t fathom it. Hardly my style. Unless Gatewood and Beth Sterling really are an item.” Quintier lifted his hand to examine one of the three gold rings he wore. “I understand you and former Councilman Squier’s wife, Darcie, are becoming intimate friends.”

  Drayco doubted Darcie rang up Quintier following their tryst to let him know. Which meant Quintier had spies watching him. Drayco had a sudden urge to call Darcie to make sure she was okay.

  Quintier relaxed into the seat, stretching out his legs. He seemed to be enjoying the scenery as he looked out onto the water and followed a couple of ospreys flying overhead. “You’re a pianist, aren’t you, Drayco? I’ll have to invite you to my next party so you can entertain my guests. I definitely find you entertaining.”

  Drayco cast a quick glance at Thawley, who caught Drayco’s look and nodded. So now they were all pals. Hail-fellow-well-met, indeed.

  51

  Maida had the air conditioner cranked up as high as it would go. Drayco knew it was something she hated doing, not just due to the cost. Part of the charm of living on the coast was having the sea breezes blow through the windows.

  The Lazy Crab’s ice budget had gone up too, not lost on Drayco as Maida filled more glasses of lemonade. She placed a glass in front of Lucy, who was frowning, but not at the lemonade. “An affair?” Lucy asked.

  “It’s a possibility,” Drayco replied. “I know it’s hard to imagine Beth and Winthrop Gatewood together, but they had more than a landlord-tenant relationship.”

  “Because of the rent situation?”

  “That and a couple of other things I don’t want to go into.” An affair was a sordid enough concept for Lucy to contemplate without Drayco throwing in theft or an abortion into the mix.

  Lucy picked up the glass of lemonade. “Oddly, I can imagine Beth having an affair. Arnold’s atrocious behavior could drive her into the arms of somebody else. Winthrop Gatewood wouldn’t be my first choice. For her or for me if I were in her place.”

  “You have better candidates in mind?”

  “Freaky Farland if he hadn’t been ... I mean if he weren’t ...” Lucy’s voice trailed off as her face turned crimson. She took several long gulps of lemonade and continued. “She never said a word, and I never saw any flirting.”

  Drayco entertained for a short time the idea of a romance between Beth and Freaky. In a small town, that would be difficult to hide. As Lucy tried to avoid saying, anyone would recognize Freaky’s face instantly.

  “Lucy, how would you characterize Beth’s relationship with the Gatewoods through the years? Did they interact much?”

  “Not after Jacob’s birth. As far as I knew, they hadn’t seen each other. Poor Jacob. I saw him once or twice when he was an infant. He was a lovely child, with a full head of curly blond hair. D
idn’t fuss much.”

  “Did Beth give the Gatewoods any special attention for Vesta Mae’s pregnancy?”

  “No, she wasn’t like that. All mothers and babies were treated equally, no matter how rich or poor. Gatewood could have sent his wife to any fancy doctor. He’s like that—he’ll spend a thousand dollars on a vase. When it comes to something important like his family, he’s a tightwad. No, Vesta Mae and I had our babies two days apart. And Beth was as attentive to me as she was to Vesta Mae.”

  Maida piped up. “I can vouch for Beth’s nature. And if you’re wondering if she had an affair with Gatewood for his money, that wasn’t Beth. Even if it would have come in handy to pay off Arnold’s debts faster.”

  It would indeed. That is, if Gatewood had any money left to spend. At one time, he had plenty—when he produced his father with a grandson. Drayco had discovered Winthrop stood to inherit twenty million. That was one valuable baby.

  Drayco said, “So Gatewood only met Beth through Vesta Mae’s pregnancy. Was he present at the birth of their child?”

  Lucy replied, a little wistfully. “He was. Cole wanted to be with me when Virginia was born. He had to go where and when the jobs came along.”

  “I understand Cole worked mostly for the AB Chorengel company. Was it one of their gigs that kept him away during Virginia’s birth?” He hadn’t mentioned the sheriff’s investigation of Cole’s former construction jobs.

  “They were going through a downturn at that time. Fortunately, Cole got some temporary work.”

  “With which company?”

  “It’s been so long ago. Thorncraft or Forcraft. You can ask Faris Usher. He’s the one who recommended it. It paid unusually well.”

  Usher also offered to recommend a car restorer for Drayco’s Starfire. The man was full of timely contacts. “I didn’t know Usher and Cole were friends.”

  “They weren’t. They started chatting one day at Fiddler’s Green. Cole needed work, and Faris said he knew someone. He called later with the details.”

  Maida got up to retrieve an item which she brought in and handed to Lucy. “Virginia left this the other day.”