Closet Confidential (40 page)

I stood on Potter Street and looked up. Faces showed in the lit windows behind me.

I moved off to the side, shielded by the wall of the attached building, in case he decided to fire another shot. “Roger,” I shouted. “Give it up. The cops know what you’ve done. Don’t make it any worse. This time it would be premeditated, not an accident. Let Nick and the baby go.”

“Nobody knows.” Roger DeJong’s voice. Finally, I’d gotten something right.

My heart was thundering, because I knew that in my subsequent bluff, I could easily go wrong again and blow it. If so, Nick and the baby and Dean Oliver would pay the price. I hoped none of my lies were too obvious.

“Listen, Roger. They know that you tricked Nick into going to the storage area, where you knocked him out, and then you took his cruiser to meet Pepper at Bakker Beach. They’ve got forensic evidence to link you to that and to the attack on Pepper. It was all to frame Nick, wasn’t it, so he wouldn’t finger you for Anabel Beauchamp’s death. I’m sure you can make the case that was an accident. No one will take Nick seriously. You can minimize the damage.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

More bluffing. “You have Dean Oliver back there, injured or possibly dead. And once again you plan to frame Nick.”

Nick’s voice, high and panicked, shot back, “Don’t make things worse. He’ll hurt Little Nick. He’s been threatening me since just after that girl died. It took me a while to figure it all out, but he was already here on the site at the time. I was just on patrol and I happened by right as the 911 call came in. I guess he could tell by looking at me afterward that I knew what that meant. He told me he’d have Pepper and Little Nick killed if I accused him. And he said he had stuff on me, and I guess he did, and he swore he’d make sure my word was worthless. I had to keep quiet, but, Charley, I kept seeing that girl drowned and knowing he did it. I dream about it. And look, he did try to kill Pepper and make it look like it was me.”

This was no time to suggest that if Nick had confided in his wife—who was ten times smarter than he was—none of this would have happened, except for Anabel’s death.

“Nick, listen to me!”

“No. I’ll do what he wants. I’m the problem. It has to look like I’m a killer. He’ll let Little Nick go, but he’ll kill me and claim that it was to protect Dean. Dean’s toast, too. He’s bleeding out, so he won’t be able to talk. And DeJong is a hero, saving the baby. He’ll come after you, too, and Pepper.”

“I don’t think he will shoot you, Nick. At this point there are many, many witnesses and not just me. Keeping you two alive is the only chance he has to save himself now. Trust me, he can’t get away. Roger, I need you to listen to me. There must be a hundred eyes on you here. Every resident of this area has a light on and is watching. People have cell phone cameras and video cameras. You can’t shoot them all. You won’t be able to leave without plenty of witnesses. It’s over. Give the baby to Nick. You can explain the rest, but not if something happens to Nick or the baby.”

There was no freakin’ chance this creep could explain his way out of his crimes, but I was on a roll.

“Do it!” I yelled. “I can hear the sirens. It’s all over, Roger.”

The next sound I heard was a sharp scream from Nick, then a splash. Was that a second splash? I wasn’t sure. The gate to the site swung inward and DeJong emerged, firing his weapon in a seemingly random arc. He leaped into the first squad car and rocketed away. Sirens were coming closer. I didn’t figure he’d get far with flat tires. I dashed through the gate to find Nick floating facedown in the watery foundation. The baby was nowhere to be seen. In a moment of horror, I realized what the second splash had meant. I had no choice but to jump into the water. I struggled to turn Nick over, get his face out of the water, and prop him against the slippery wooden wall. He was unconscious. The blood streaming from his forehead told me why. I bent down and crawled through the filthy murk, feeling around for the baby, splashing and shouting for help as I did. Seconds felt like hours until I made contact with something round and soft and moving. Little Nick! I lifted him up. He didn’t cry. A bad sign. At the edge of the foundation, a head appeared. A smart young head with a gash on it. Dean Oliver.

At the same moment, I watched as the unconscious Nick flopped forward face-first into the water.

I shouted, “Mouth-to-mouth to the baby, fast, while I help Nick.”

Turned out that was a good move. I could apologize to him later.

The WINY media van had a field day with me. I looked like what my mother would call the Creature from the Black Lagoon. Gripping footage that. But who gave a hoot? Little Nick, his father, and Dean Oliver were all alive. Even though we didn’t yet know that Roger DeJong had been stopped at the end of Potter Street by a pair of squad cars, it was already a good news story.

I rang the Beauchamps’ doorbell three days later. Harry was gracious, although he did say, “Well Charlotte honey, you sure do look a lot prettier today than you did the other night on television.”

“The story of my life, Harry. I’m used to it now.”

“It was pretty shocking news we heard. A policeman killing our little girl.”

“Yes. They’ve arrested him, and I believe they’ll make those charges stick. And of course, he was the officer who was supposed to talk to the neighborhood witnesses after her death. No wonder the police appeared not to follow up. Luckily some of the folks on the street will make good witnesses.”

“Well, I guess it turned out Lorelei was right after all. I’ll be making amends for that. I feel sorry I doubted her mother’s intuition.”

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t believe it, either. I was only trying to prove that it had been an accident. If my friends hadn’t been involved, I would have left it at that. Do you mind if I speak to her alone for a minute?”

“Sure thing. She’s in the living room. Champagne cocktail for you? It’s June Sparkle today.”

“No thanks, Harry. Nothing for me.”

I found Lorelei at the vast window gazing at the Hudson River. I stood beside her for a couple of minutes. I could only imagine how she was feeling. Finally I reached out and up and gave her a hug. “You didn’t cause Anabel’s death, Lorelei. I believe it was a fluke of timing that she went behind the gate and spotted DeJong talking to one of the criminals he dealt with. Anabel would have recognized him and she would have been well aware of who his cozy criminal contact was, although DeJong hasn’t revealed that. He’s probably afraid for his own life, now that he’s in jail. Anabel must have concluded he was on the take. Perhaps she saw money changing hands, although I can’t prove that. DeJong knew Anabel was fierce enough to make sure it would all come out. He knew she was fearless. She would have gone to the police, to the media, whatever it would take. She was a brave and splendid woman, a daughter to be proud of.”

Naturally, I didn’t talk about the specifics of my theory that DeJong must have struggled with Anabel, while his criminal contact left the scene. I had a horrible image of him knocking her out before pushing her from the slippery walkway into the brackish water to drown, solving his problem until Nick blundered in. I knew the police believed this was what happened, but no mother needed to envision that dreadful scene.

I’d never seen tears in Lorelei’s eyes before. “I did cause her death, though. She chose to duck behind that fence so I wouldn’t see her. She didn’t want me to interfere in her wedding. And I couldn’t let it alone. I had to go down there to plead the case for a long white gown and rose petals and violins. It was because I loved her. I thought I knew what was best.”

And perhaps you wanted a more suitable groom
, I thought. I kept my mouth shut, though. Whatever else I’d believed in the past, I knew that Lorelei had loved Anabel, not in the totally accepting way that Harry did, but it was love anyway. I wondered if she could ever share with Harry her part in the tragedy. I was glad it wasn’t up to me.

“It wasn’t your fault, Lorelei,” I said again. Even though I knew she’d never believe me. “If you hadn’t pushed the point, I never would have followed up and DeJong would have gotten away with murder.”

I did take a moment to talk to Harry on my way out. “This boy Dimitri was very special for Anabel. I hope you will spend some time with him and support the work that Anabel was doing with Hope for Youth at Risk. Maybe in time Lorelei will take part, too.”

“Of course, Charlotte darlin’,” he said. “That will be Anabel’s legacy.”

I didn’t stay long. I had a delivery to make. I had two boxes of black-and-white fudge, one for Thalia Waverman and one for Jane Cantley. They truly deserved a reward.

The Hudson was flowing fast as I stood alone on the shores by Bakker Beach. The June rains meant high, roiling water. I can always understand the fascination of the river. It’s a good place to think. I had lots on my mind, mostly questions. Pepper was on the mend, although it would take a while. She and Nick were working on what she called “trust issues.” Little Nick showed no negative effect from his minute or two under the filthy water, although Sally and Benjamin were keeping experienced eyes on him. I wondered if Nick’s idiotic behavior attempting to evade Roger DeJong would mean the end of his career in the police. He was still going through interviews. Three generations of Monahans on the Woodbridge force might not be enough to salvage his job.

Sally and Margaret were planning a misfit party as soon as Pepper was out of the hospital. Negotiations were underway to see if spouses would be included. The fun never ends.

In the meantime, I had plenty to do to make up for a practically workless week. Lilith and I had a date with Wendy to show her the altered yellow skirt and take some “after” photos of the closet project. I imagined Seth would be around, tripping over his feet.