Dark Hearts (18 page)

Avery Jones' eyes widened perceptibly and his mouth dropped open when he saw who they had brought in, but he quickly looked away.

Trey walked Marcus all the way through the police station to the interrogation room at the back next to the jail.

“Have a seat,” Trey said, and turned to leave.

“Wait! What's going on? I thought you said you wanted to talk.”

“Well, yes, we do, but I'm waiting on Sheriff Osmond to get here. Since we're both working the case, we've been sharing information. It's just simpler for him to hear you give your statement, and then we'll be done.”

Marcus shrugged.

“I'm going to bring you some coffee,” Sam said. “I suggest you drink it. It would be to your advantage to be sober when this begins.”

Marcus paled and started to shake as Sam left the room.

Sam returned a few minutes later with two large cups of hot coffee and put them both down in front of Marcus. “Knock yourself out,” he said and shut the door firmly as he left.

Marcus reached for the first cup with a shaking hand and took a sip. Tears were running down his face, and the knot of fear in his gut was growing bigger by the moment.

Sam paused outside in the hall to look at Marcus through the one-way glass. “He's gonna lose it,” he said.

“It can't happen soon enough for me,” Trey replied.

* * *

It took another forty-five minutes for Sheriff Osmond to get there, but he came in the door smiling. “Do you really think you've got our man?” he asked.

“What I know is that I have a very strong, very reliable witness who can speak to motive and who knows where that five hundred came from, and I'll bet if we run a bluff, it will send Marcus over the edge,” Trey said.

“So let's do this before he lawyers up. Is he sober enough?”

“He's had about two quarts of coffee and I imagine he needs to take a piss,” Sam said.

“Then, let's go make him a little more uncomfortable. I'm going to stay quiet while Silver gives his statement,” Sheriff Osmond said. “I think having Betsy Jakes' sons take the lead will be pressure enough.” Then he followed the Jakes brothers down the hall.

* * *

After Sam texted to tell Lainey he wasn't coming home at noon, she shifted her focus to other things. She had already decided to call the university and get someone to take her classes tomorrow, and once she told them what had happened they were understanding. They wished her a speedy recovery and told her to let them know when she was ready to return.

She puttered around the house with another cup of hot chocolate in hand, then added a couple of cookies and called it lunch. She was folding laundry when she noticed the box of her mother's diaries she'd brought down from the attic. After the laundry was put up she went back to the box and picked through some of them. Reading the entries was poignant, but also fun. It was like visiting with her mother again.

She brought a couple of diaries with her to the sofa, covered up beneath a blanket and opened up the one that began after her mother had graduated high school and begun dating the young man who would eventually become Lainey's father.

It had been a long time since she'd looked through this one, and when she ran across a handful of pictures slipped in between the months of September and October of 1980, she started to set them aside until two names jumped out at her.

There were three pictures that appeared to have been taken out in the high school parking lot right after the graduation ceremony. Nearly all the people in the photos were either still wearing their caps and gowns or had them over their arms.

The pictures were joyous, capturing the elation of young men and women on the verge of becoming adults. Her mother had made notations of who was who with the same code she had used in the diaries.

There was one of a girl kissing a boy and another that was a group shot of good friends with several sets of parents. And the last one was a very clear view of two boys driving out of the parking lot together. Lainey grinned when she saw it, thinking that her mother must have been standing directly in front of the car to get that shot. Both boys looked startled to see her standing in the way, and the driver was glaring and waving at her to move out of the way.

She laughed. Then she saw the notation.

Silver Spoon in his daddy's car and Tom Collins riding shotgun.

She stared at it for a long moment in disbelief. Silver Spoon was an obvious reference to the richest boy in school, the one who'd been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. And there was Tom Collins again. She didn't remember what Donny Collins looked like, but if Sam and Trey had just brought Marcus Silver in for questioning, this might be really important. She started to give Sam a call, and then remembered they were most likely interrogating Marcus Silver, something she didn't want to interrupt. And they needed to see what she'd found, not just hear about it. Despite her ankle, she had to take it to the precinct while the man was still being questioned.

She got a coat and her purse and headed out the door with the photo, hobbling as she went. It wasn't the smartest thing she'd ever done, but it wasn't going to kill her.

As she started up the drive, she reached down to turn on the windshield wipers, and when she looked up she was facing toward the pasture and the big mound of fresh dirt. She looked away quickly. Life had taught her some hard lessons, but her rule of thumb was that if she survived it, then it was over.

The urge to speed was strong as she drove toward Mystic. Just like when she'd found the story about the cheating scandal in her mother's diaries, she had the feeling of anticipation that something her mother had done was going to be crucial to solving these crimes.

* * *

Marcus had a roaring headache, but he was mostly sober. When the door to the interrogation room opened, he jumped to his feet.

“I need to use the restroom,” he said.

“After we're finished,” Trey said. “Please sit down.”

Marcus was stunned, and it showed. He was used to his every whim being catered to, and the simple act of refusing him a trip to the bathroom seemed preposterous.

“Now, see here, I—”

Sam pushed him down in the chair and kept a hand on his shoulder until he grew quiet.

“Is there anything you would like to tell us?” Trey asked.

“How about that there is a very likely possibility that you people will lose your jobs over this?” Marcus snapped.

“We had a witness come forward today in regard to the cheating scandal,” Trey said.

Marcus's belligerence settled into sarcasm. “I don't see what some high school prank has to do with any of this,” he said.

“Don't play stupid. It was important enough for someone to murder three people,” Sam said.

Marcus blanched. “I had nothing to do with that.”

“That remains to be seen. According to my witness, you gave her five hundred dollars for the answers to an exam. The grade on that test was the tipping point between valedictorian and salutatorian, not to mention the deciding factor on who won a scholarship, only she didn't know that,” Trey said.

“I don't know what you're talking about. I keep telling you people I didn't need that scholarship money.”

“No, but you needed the honor and glory that went with it, didn't you?” Sam said. “We saw those paintings on the wall in your library. I'll bet Daddy was a stickler for perfection? Am I right?”

Marcus glared.

“Look, we already know you cheated. All we want to know is, did Donny Collins know it, too?” Sam asked.

Marcus frowned. “He didn't know anything. He—” All of a sudden he realized he had admitted to the cheating with that slip of the tongue and stopped in midsentence.

Sam smiled. “That's better. Doesn't it feel good to get rid of that little burden? Hell, Marcus, it was just a test. Like you said, it happened a long time ago. It's over and done with, right?”

Marcus didn't look up.

Sam looked at Trey and grinned.

Sam pulled a chair up to the interrogation table, sat and then leaned forward. “Was your father abusive?” he asked.

Marcus shifted in the chair. “I still need to pee,” he said.

“In a few minutes,” Trey said. “Answer the question.”

“I guess you could say he was, but that doesn't mean I did something wrong,” Marcus mumbled.

“I didn't say you did what you did because you were afraid of your father. I didn't say why you paid Beth Bradford to cheat. She told us she didn't know why you did it, either. But she needed money, and she got you the answers to the test because she was Mrs. Henry's aide, and you gave her five hundred dollars, right?”

Marcus wiped his face with both hands.

“It doesn't matter,” Trey said. “She'll testify in court to all of it, including her part in it.”

“No one will believe a word of it,” Marcus blustered. “I am a valued member of the community.”

“Back then you were just a senior in high school,” Trey said. “Kids are always making mistakes. No doubt people assume you made some, too.”

“I need to pee,” Marcus said.

“I need the truth,” Trey said.

Marcus moaned. “Oh...hell. Yes, I paid to get the answers. I didn't want to listen to my dad shout at me for not having a perfect score. It's no big deal. It's over and done. Now can I pee?”

“So how did Donny Collins take it when he found out?” Sam asked.

“I told you. He didn't know. No one knew.”

“That's not the truth, and you know it,” Sam said. “Beth knew. She's the one who gave you the answers. And Beth was dating Donny, wasn't she?”

Marcus's eyes widened. “I don't know.”

“Oh, sure you do,” Trey said. “Every teenager knows who's hooking up in high school.”

“So you paid Beth five hundred dollars,” Sam said.

Marcus shrugged. “I guess. I don't remember the exact amount. What does it matter?”

Sam put his hand on the table in front of Marcus, then marked off every word he spoke with a tap of his finger.

“There was five hundred dollars cash in the wallet we found with the body we pulled out of the Colquitt Mine. The driver's license in that wallet belonged to Donny Collins. That five hundred dollars was what you paid Beth for the answers. Isn't it something, how one thing leads to another, then backward and forward again and ties itself up in this neat little bow?”

The scent of urine suddenly filled the air.

“Well, well,” Sam said. “I think you just pissed yourself out of a trip to the john. Now we can get down to business.”

Marcus moaned.

“I didn't do anything to Donny Collins. I didn't hang out with him. I was not his friend. I would have had no earthly reason to be anywhere in his company. I don't know what you're talking about. I think I want—”

Before he could finish there was a knock at the door.

Trey frowned. “I told Avery not to bother us,” he said, and then went to the door.

Avery was standing in the hall with Lainey Pickett at his side.

“I know you said not to bother you, but I think you need to see this, Chief.”

Seventeen

L
ainey handed Trey the photo. He looked at it, grinned and then yelled at his brother from the hall.

“Hey, Sam, could you come out here a minute?”

Sam was stunned to see Lainey in the hall.

“Lainey, honey, are you okay? What's wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong,” she said. “I was reading more of Mom's diaries when I came across that picture.” She pointed to the photo Trey was holding. “It was one of several my mother took after the graduation ceremony. Look at what she wrote. The passenger is Tom Collins and the driver is Silver Spoon. That has to be Marcus Silver. He looks just like T.J. looks now.”

Trey was grinning as he handed Sam the picture.

“Just see what your pretty lady did. This certainly refutes Marcus's claim that he didn't hang out with Donny Collins.”

“So that
is
Donny Collins?” Lainey asked.

“Yes, and you're right that it's Marcus driving,” Sam said, then hugged her. “Your mother was amazing, and so are you.”

She smiled.

“We've got to get back inside,” Sam said. “This might be the tipping point.”

“Is Trina still in ICU?” Lainey asked.

“No. They moved her into a private room. The guard is still there, and I think Lee is, too. He was when I was there this morning.”

“Would it be okay if I dropped by before I went back home?”

Sam frowned. “Are you okay moving around that much?”

“I won't be there long.”

“If you feel like it, then by all means it's okay. You're part of the family. Besides, your name is on the list. Just be careful, okay?”

She nodded.

Sam bent down and kissed her quickly, then hurried back inside the interrogation room with Trey.

Lainey felt good. Yet another bit of history that was helping them make their case.

* * *

All the way home from church, T.J. thought about his father, hoping he'd ended his drinking binge before he passed out on the floor. The drizzle was turning into rain as he parked beneath the portico and went in through the French doors that led straight to the library.

The scent of roast beef wafted through the hall as he headed for the stairs. He hoped Cook had made something good for dessert. He was in the mood for sweets.

His foot was on the bottom step when the maid came running toward him from the back of the house.

“Mr. T.J., Mr. T.J., your father isn't here.”

T.J. frowned. “His car is out front.”

“Chief Jakes and his brother came this morning. They took your father with them when they left.”

T.J.'s heart skipped a beat. “Why?”

“I didn't know. And I don't know what to do.”

“Christ almighty! You could have called me.”

She ruffled like a pissed-off hen full of righteous indignation. “Your number has never been made available to the staff, sir.”

He flushed. It was true. He considered the running of the house his father's business.

“So what can you tell me?” he asked.

“He left the house in disarray,” she said.

T.J. frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, he was not his usual dapper self.”

T.J. stifled a moan. “Had he still been drinking?”

She nodded.

“Was he drunk?”

“I would guess so.”

“Son of a bitch,” T.J. muttered, and headed back out the way he'd come in.

* * *

The scent of urine was ripe inside the interrogation room, and Marcus Silver was in extreme discomfort and horrified it had happened. He looked everywhere but at the sheriff still in the room with him.

When the Jakes brothers came back in, he could tell by the looks on their faces that something had happened. Instinct told him it was not in his favor. And when they walked over to Sheriff Osmond and showed him what looked like a photo, he tried not to worry.

“Sorry for that interruption,” Trey said.

“Have you no mercy?” Marcus mumbled. “I need a bath and fresh clothing.”

Trey ignored him. “So tell me again how you and Donny Collins got along.”

Marcus slapped the flat of his hand on the table. “He was a nobody. I did not hang out with people like him. Ever! I want my lawyer!”

The thought went through Sam's head that he was so going to love Lainey into exhaustion. It wasn't just the fact that her mother had kept track of her childhood like an IRS CPA, but that Lainey had been thoughtful enough to search through a lifetime of mementos to help them solve this case. Especially when she'd started out hating his guts.

Trey laid the photo down in front of Marcus.

Marcus glanced down and then froze. He felt a blood rush of panic as his life began flashing before his eyes. Then he put both hands on the table and looked up.

“I want my lawyer.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Sam drawled.

* * *

T.J. entered the precinct in a rush, bringing cold wind and blowing rain with him.

“Where's my father?” he shouted.

Avery held up one finger while he finished a dispatch. When he was through, he turned to meet T.J's eyes. “I'm sorry. What did you say?”

T.J. leaned over the counter and screamed in the dispatcher's face. “Where the hell is my father?”

Footsteps sounded in the hall, and then Chief Jakes walked into the lobby. “Hello, T.J. What the hell is wrong with you? Do you want to be arrested for disturbing the peace?”

T.J. took a deep breath. “No.”

“Then, stop yelling at my dispatcher.”

“I'm sorry, Avery. I was upset about my father and took it out on you,” T.J. said.

Avery shrugged.

Trey glared.

T.J. started over.

“Our maid said you came and got Dad this morning.”

“And she was correct,” Trey said.

“May I speak to you in private?” T.J. asked.

“Follow me,” Trey said and led the way back to his office.

Sam was on the phone when they walked in. He saw who it was and hung up just as T.J. lost his cool again.

“I meant in private!” he shrieked.

Sam stood up.

Trey pointed at his brother. “You stay.”

Sam sat back down.

T.J. opened his mouth, and then shut it again.

“Have a seat, T.J.,” Trey said.

It sounded more like an order than an invitation, which made T.J. nervous. “Where is my father?” he asked.

“In jail,” Trey said.

T.J. leaned forward, the expression on his face one of disbelief. “He can't be. Why? Have you booked him already? Where was our lawyer in all this?”

“He is, and his lawyer came when he requested one,” Trey said.

T.J. groaned beneath his breath and leaned back in the chair.

Sam had been silent, but the questions T.J. asked seemed curious to him, especially the one about being booked. “Why does it matter to you if he's already been booked?”

“The senate seat. Dad is going to announce his candidacy for a vacant senate seat,” T.J. said. “Whatever is wrong, surely it can be cleared up without all this.”

“And now we have the motive for the rest,” Sam said softly and looked up at his brother.

T.J. frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Is there anything else we can do for you?” Trey asked.

“I'm calling our lawyer!”

“He's already been here and gone,” Sam said. “Maybe you should call
him
for your answers.”

T.J. pushed himself upright and stumbled toward the door. He paused once and looked back. “It's all ruined,” he mumbled, then shook his head and walked out.

“You need me for anything else?” Sam asked.

Trey grinned. “Nope. Go find Lainey and give her a kiss from me—and one from Mom.”

Sam felt his brother's pain. “I will be happy to do that,” he said, and left the room.

Trey sat down, and then stared across the room at the picture of his father in his highway patrol uniform. He could almost imagine that stern expression on Justin's face morphing into a smile. Within an instant the feeling was gone, but it felt like a sign—a brief acknowledgment of a job well done.

* * *

The news was spreading all over Mystic.

Marcus Silver was in jail, under arrest for murdering Donny Collins in 1980, and charges were pending for the murders of Dick Phillips, Paul Jackson and Betsy Jakes, and for the attempted murder of Trina Jakes.

Word was that Marcus adamantly denied all of it, of course.

Beth Powell heard the news from one of her friends and wondered how long it would take for the news of her involvement in the cheating scandal to surface, and then she shrugged it off. In the grand scheme of things, being stupid as a teenager was a given. Look at Jack. He'd gotten shit-faced drunk and burned himself up in his daddy's old car. His daddy's heart was broken, and his mama was in the process of having a nervous breakdown. As far as Beth was concerned, nothing worse could happen to their family than what they were going through now.

She stared off into space for a few moments, and then picked up her phone and called her son.

He answered on the third ring and sounded breathless, as if he'd been running. “Hello?”

“It's me, honey. How's Clarice?”

“Her mother and sisters are here. I think it's helping.”

“I need to talk to you,” she said.

“Okay, shoot.”

“No, honey. I need to talk to you face-to-face.”

“Are you okay? Are you ill? What's wrong, Mom?”

“I'm not sick. You'll find out the rest when you get here.”

“I'll be right there,” Randy said.

She disconnected, then got up and went to her bedroom, where she began digging through her cedar chest. She dug all the way to the bottom before she found the picture she was looking for, then pulled it out and hugged it to her breasts.

About fifteen minutes later she heard Randy coming in the back door.

“Mom?” he called.

“I'm in the living room,” she said.

His stride was quick as he entered the room, and he had a look of concern on his face. It wasn't the first time Beth had seen the resemblance between him and Donny, but it
was
the first time she was proud it was there.

“Hi, honey. Come sit by me,” she said.

Randy dropped down beside her, and then reached for her hand. “What's wrong?”

She handed him the picture.

He frowned as he looked at it, then handed it back. “Who's he?”

“Your father.”

Randy gasped, and then slowly reached for the picture again, this time studying every facet of the young boy's face.

“Why now, Mom? After all of these years, why are you showing me this now?”

She started to cry.

“Because this is who they pulled out of the Colquitt Mine. All these years I thought he'd abandoned us, but he didn't, Randy. He didn't. Your father was murdered the night he graduated high school.”

Randy looked past the tears on his mother's face to the light in her eyes, and he got it. She was happy—happy to know that she'd still been loved.

He put the picture down and hugged her.

“I don't even know what to say,” he said. “Do they know why he was killed?”

“Part of it is my fault, but I had no idea when it was happening how it would turn out.”

Then she began to explain the panic she'd felt when she'd learned she was pregnant and the downward spiral her life had taken from there.

* * *

Lainey looked up as Lee walked into Trina's room, carrying two bottles of Coke. He handed one to her and set his to the side.

“I already broke the seal on that for you,” he said.

She smiled. “Thank you, Lee.” She popped an over-the-counter pain pill she'd found in the bottom of her purse, and chased it with a drink of the Coke.

“Do you hurt much?” he asked.

She thought of her real pain pills in the console of her car and sighed.

“It's not bad. More of a dull ache, you know?”

They both glanced at Trina, making sure their talking wasn't disturbing her before they continued.

“Sorry about your horse,” he said, “but I'm glad you're okay.”

“So am I,” Lainey said, and then took another quick sip of the pop. “What did the doctor say about Trina's condition this morning?”

“That her vital signs were much stronger, the wound is healing well, fever is minimal.”

“When do you think she'll wake up?”

He shrugged. “I don't care how long it takes, as long as it happens. I just want my girl back.”

Lainey patted his arm. “I know. This has been such a scary time for all of you.”

Just then her phone signaled a text. She glanced down, saw it was from Sam and read it.

Silver under arrest. Your picture sealed it. Your help and your mother's diaries put a killer behind bars. I love you so much.

Lainey gasped.

“Lee, look at this!” she said and handed him the phone.

“Oh, my God!
He's
the killer?”

“I guess so,” Lainey said.

“But why?”

“I don't know, but I'll bet the authorities do. I am so relieved this nightmare is over,” she said.

Lee stood up and leaned down near Trina's ear. “Hey, baby,” he said. “They caught the man who did this to you. Marcus Silver will never hurt anyone else again.”

Trina turned toward his voice and exhaled.

Lee gasped. “Trina? Honey?”

She took a deep breath.

Lainey stood up. “Is she waking up?”

“I don't know, but this is the most movement I've seen from her since they put her in ICU, and it happened after I told her they caught the killer.”

Trina's eyelids began to flutter, then a finger moved.

“Thank You, God,” Lee said as he clasped her hand. “Trina? You heard me, didn't you? They caught the man who shot you. Marcus Silver is behind bars.”