Buried (Detective Ellie MacIntosh) (22 page)

“We have no proof he did. Can I just have a word?” It might not be a reassuring statement, but was at least truthful enough that Mrs. Henley widened the door at his sincerity. Carl followed her into a massive foyer—much bigger than his—and the hollow echo of their footsteps resonated in his ears.

“Which house?” she asked him over her shoulder, her gaze cold and inquiring.

“Which house?”

“Do you live in?”

He wasn’t a snob, or didn’t think so, but he got the question with a certain ironic sense of amusement. “On the corner. The brick two-story.”

“Apparently we pay our law enforcement too generously.”

“Or else my father made a lot of money as a young entrepreneur and then married well.”

“Oh.” That made her step falter and she said nothing else until she gestured him to a seat in a room that looked like a study. He had doubts it was ever used as one if a person considered the immaculate desktop, and more important, the disused smell. It felt decorated, but not lived in, and though there were pictures on the walls of some of the liquor storefronts, he highly doubted the expensive leather chair behind the desk was for more than show.

It really wasn’t Carl’s concern if Mr. Henley wanted it to seem as if he worked out of his home. At the moment, what he wanted to know was if point A connected to point B. Fielding to Brown. He needed to get a measure of Garrison Henley.

It didn’t take too long.

The man in question was young—it was hard to tell how young since his features were obscured by a ball cap, incongruous to his playboy image, and he entered not in a half-slouch that indicated belligerence, but tall and straight, his eyes direct. “My mother told me who you are. What do you want?”

“Are you Garrison Henley?”

“Would my mother send anyone else if you asked for me?”

Young, yes, hard, yes, and arrogant,
yes
.

Looking bland, Carl chose a leather chair without being offered a seat. “Can we talk about the wife of the police officer who was killed recently? The one who asked for a paternity test for the baby boy she had”—he flipped open a notebook he took from his pocket—“twenty-three months ago?”

“I’ve already talked to the police.”

“Yes, but not to me.”

“Lieutenant Grasso. Yeah, you know, I’ve heard of you, actually.” Henley’s gaze was assessing.

Once people heard his name, and looked into his past, they tended to pay attention, and so when Carl said Grasso, even if they didn’t have all the facts, the notoriety was helpful.

Besides, he and this kid were talking kind to kind. On sight they had both recognized it. The privileged children of the elite. Henley’s father was not just wealthy, but sat on the city council. Had breakfast with the mayor. There was some meat behind that fist.

“I don’t know what I can tell you that I haven’t said before.” The young man walked over and dropped into the chair behind the desk, probably unconsciously mimicking his father. “I slept with Joanne, yes. Quite a few times. She worked in our corporate offices. I can’t remember exactly the last time, so the kid could be mine, I suppose. In case you haven’t noticed, my family has money. She swore she was on the pill, and I took her word for it.”

Idiot. There is more than unwanted pregnancy to worry over
 …
ever hear of venereal disease or AIDS?

Carl wasn’t his parent, so he just asked, “You weren’t afraid she’d blackmail you later?”

“Not until Fielding called. Obviously we’d broken it off. Shit, she was married then … like two years or so. He said something about the kid … I was kind of taken off guard, you know?”

“What
did
he say? I need to know specifically.”

“I’ve already—”

“Tell
me
.”

Henley looked at him. He didn’t respond at once.

“The man was murdered,” Carl reminded him in an inflexible tone.

“He said he wanted a paternity test. Asked me if I would agree. I was actually blindsided. I hadn’t talked to her in a long time. I certainly didn’t know about the baby.”

Carl considered an armoire in the corner that probably cost thousands of dollars. He had a good eye and the mother-of-pearl inlay on the front was definitely custom. The family had money and it showed. “You weren’t harassing her?”

“No. Absolutely not.”

The vehemence of the answer fit with his perception of the situation, but not quite with the information provided in the file.

“So what made him call you after so long?”

“No idea. I guess she told him finally we’d been together.”

Every single time Carl thought he might get a glimmer, it just got more complicated. “He knew that already from the arrest, correct? You were at the club with her.”

Garrison Henley tilted his head a little to the side, his mouth tightening. “Oh, he did. Hitting on her while arresting me? I was unhappy in about a hundred ways that night, but that made me
very
unhappy. Is that how cops usually work?”

Against all odds, Carl kind of liked this young man. It reminded him of … well, he wasn’t going to analyze it, but Henley wasn’t what he expected. “No, that’s how men and women usually work. You agreed to the test, right?”

Henley shrugged. “There was a chance, so I owned it. I wasn’t the one all winched up about it, Fielding was. But when I told my father, he talked to our lawyers, and in the end, I was told to refuse.”

It did give Henley a motive to kill Fielding, but it was still pretty thin. Money had to be the motivation for the request, but it didn’t really fit. “What did she want?”

“I don’t exactly know. I am not sure Joanne wanted anything. This seemed to be more about her husband.”

“That really wasn’t what I heard.”

He said with a hint of ironic humor, “Detective, do you believe everything you hear?”

“No.” There was no equivocation on that agreement. He was lied to so often he didn’t believe the truth ninety percent of the time.

*   *   *

Of all things,
Ellie had to be with Santiago when she found out such a personal thing as that her grandfather had been married before and she didn’t know it. Really, with his lack of tact, she was getting tired of the conversation.

He repeated, “So he never said anything.”

“No.”

“Not a word about the first wife.”

“No.”

“Not even hinted about—”

“No!” She took a turn deliberately too fast and inhaled deeply as she calmed down. “Okay, I admit he has not told me the complete truth apparently, but it is his life. It is a sin of omission. You won’t get any argument here. I don’t know everything about your life either, but you are not obligated to tell me just because we know one another.”

Jason Santiago looked at her, and he had a way of doing so that made her distinctly uncomfortable. “Actually, I told you pretty much everything about my life this morning. So you are fine with this new development or are you just rationalizing?”

“Now you sound like my shrink.”

“You have a shrink? No shit?” He looked genuinely surprised.

“I’ll give you her card. No one could use one more than you. We are almost there.”

“I don’t need a shrink,” he said.

“There are those of us who would beg to differ.”

“MacIntosh, this isn’t about me. Can you tell me what you walked away from that interview with your great-aunt with?”

She wasn’t really ready to talk about it yet. “I walked away with a desire to talk to my sister. Just because I don’t know about this story he hasn’t seen fit to mention, doesn’t mean Jody doesn’t.”

“So that is where we are going?”

“She lives here in Wausau. Sorry, it won’t take long.”

He shrugged. “My car aside, it beats sitting in my apartment, and as far as I can tell my other choice involves cases of files sitting in some courthouse basement. Tell me this, though. If your sister did know and you didn’t, what difference does that make?”

It was actually a pretty good question, as little as she wanted to admit that. “It would mean it wasn’t a deep, dark secret. Secrets bother me, especially when coupled with unmarked graves.”

“Christ, I hope you do realize there could be a dozen reasons that body was buried where it was. Smallpox epidemic, a stranger dying on the side of the road, a body found floating in the lake no one could identify … it could be anything.”

Of all people, Santiago sounded reasonable and reassuring? Ellie turned onto Jody’s street, saw her sister’s minivan in the drive, and pulled in behind it, putting the car in park. She unfastened her seat belt. “I’ll be gone five minutes, tops.”

“I don’t get to hear this conversation?” He looked like he was enjoying himself, and since he didn’t have a vested interest in the outcome of the case—if it was a case—she envied him.

“No.”

“I’m hurt.”

She slid out of the car, her shoes scraping the asphalt of the neat drive. “I’ll be back. Why don’t you play with your phone and find out from Grasso what’s happening with the official case we are supposed to be investigating. You know, the one where they destroyed your car?”

“I seem to remember it.” He gave her a sardonic look. “I’ll try Grasso. You go talk about your family skeletons.”

She would have told him that wasn’t amusing, but it wasn’t worth her while, so she instead closed the door with a satisfying slam and went up the walk. Jody answered the door before she even knocked, and said succinctly, “Auntie Mae just called me and I got your text. What’s going on?”

Her sister might meddle, as Bryce put it, but of all the people in the world, Ellie did trust her. “Can
you
tell
me
? Did you know that our grandfather had been married before?”

“Before what?” Her sister looked perplexed, coming out onto the porch. “I’m kind of in the dark here.”

“Before our grandmother, apparently.”

Jody wrinkled her forehead. “Are you serious? No. I guess I didn’t. But that would have been a very long time ago.”

True. At least it gave them a time frame to work with. “I just wondered if you knew.”

“Because of why?”

“Because I really want to make sense of the situation.”

“Are you going to come in and tell me about this, because quite frankly, I’m not sure I know what you are talking about. You didn’t even tell me you were coming up this way … and who is the guy in your car? Ellie, is something wrong?”

Yes, something is wrong
. There were a couple of things wrong actually. Ellie lightly blew out a breath. “No to coming in. Sorry. I’ll tell you why when I can give you some sort of solid information. I didn’t call to say I was coming because I didn’t know it, and the guy in the car is my partner, Jason Santiago.”

“Looks kind of cute from here.” Jody peered over her shoulder at the driveway.

“Until he opens his mouth,” Ellie muttered. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Always.”

“I’m busy with this triple-homicide case. Talk to Mom for me. Surely Dad told her about the previous marriage. What happened? Mae was vague, but it really was a long time ago.”

“I suppose I can, but do I even know the right questions to ask?”

“At this point, you know as much as I do.”

Chapter 21

The evening was cool and getting crisp, a hint of wood smoke in the air, and the world was slowly going silent this time of year, the insects dying, and the moon brighter in an obsidian sky. Soon Orion would be there with his vivid belt. Though he’d never been much for astronomy, he knew that much.

It was hard to be young. Not that he wanted to be old, but it seemed like the choices solidified and changed, became a little easier, were less defined by passion and impulse.

Impulse.

He read the letter again.

The message was clear enough.

But he wasn’t sure he believed the words.

He set it aside and got up to stare out the window. Had he really been that wrong? Once he’d believed in a lot of things that didn’t seem to apply to his life any longer.

He’d never believed in evil. That was abstract.…

But he might be coming to terms with it after all.

*   *   *

The woman next
to him on the plane nursed her baby.

Carl couldn’t decide if he was fascinated or appalled at being sat next to an infant, but he did have a definitive uncomfortable reaction, especially when the mother headed off to the bathroom, leaving the infant in the seat, ostensibly in the charge of her son, who might have been seven years old. True, it was a plane, no one was going to make away with the baby, and nature did call.

“Going to Disney?” he asked, taking some pity on the boy, who seemed to not know what to do except keep picking up the pacifier.

How the hell any human ever survived surprised him. The pacifier had landed on the seat about three times and God only knew who had sat there.

“Yes.” The boy had a sprinkle of freckles and a candid smile. “You too?”

Disney? Not exactly. “Well, no.”

The pacifier went south, to the floor this time, and Carl was no expert, but it was not something that needed to go back into a baby’s mouth. He picked up the child, inexpert but by far better than a seven-year-old. “Your mother is going to want to wash that. Let me hold her for a minute. I’m a police officer. It’s okay. What’s her name?”

A baby. Really
. He could have sworn he had no idea what to do with one, but he carefully held the child and she made some sound that inexplicably moved him. Wide blue eyes stared into his as she trustingly sat on his lap.

“Chloe.” The boy shrugged.

“Chloe. I like that.”

“A policeman? Really?”

The mother returned, wary at first at the sight of someone else holding her child, but then warming up and talkative. Very talkative. By the end of the flight Carl was relieved at the bustle of the airport. It was far better than excited children and screaming babies, though tiny Chloe, who did have a small little accident on his shirt but otherwise was actually rather engaging, was by far the best baby on the plane.