Dark Truth (7 page)

N
ine

A sharp gust of wind greeted Nina as she rounded the corner on her way to the subway on the following Wednesday morning. Her head down, she hoisted the leather tote over her shoulder and felt the manuscript inside shift. How, she wondered, would she tell the agent representing the work that she was going to have to pass on the book?

She was a block from the subway when her cell phone rang.

“Ms. Madden?” a male voice asked.

“Yes?”

“Detective Powell, Stone River PD.”

“Oh, yes, Detective Powell. How are my files coming along?”

“They’re sitting right here on the floor of my office. Copied, boxed, and ready for pickup.”

“Terrific. Would Friday night be all right for me to come in? Will someone be around?”

“We’re the only place in town that never closes,” he told her. “Someone will be here.”

“And you’ll take a check for the copy work?”

“Yes, with the proper ID.”

“Driver’s license okay?”

“Sure.”

“Well, thank you, Detective Powell. I appreciate the follow-up.”

“You’re welcome.”

She closed her phone to disconnect the call as she descended the steps to the subway. As eager as she was to view the contents of the files relative to her father’s case, at the same time there was a knot of apprehension in her chest. This was, she acknowledged, one huge can of worms she was about to open. She wasn’t sure how she was going to feel once she was confronted with the facts she’d been avoiding, or what the consequences might be.

She got onto the subway and stood near the door, clutching the tote to her chest, grateful to have something to hang on to besides the metal bar. Ten minutes later, still clutching the tote, she got off the subway and walked up the steps, planning her agenda. She had a meeting right at nine, another at nine forty-five. She’d have to fit in a call to Regan to let her know she’d be back this weekend to pick up the files. They’d already discussed the possibility, and Regan had made it clear that Nina would be welcome there any time, whether Regan was at home or not. She’d sent Nina back to New York with a spare house key, just in case she’d be away when the files were ready.

Which, as it turned out, had been a bit of prescience on Regan’s part.

“I’ve had a change of plans for the weekend,” Regan said when Nina finally had time to make the phone call later that morning. “A month or so ago, I placed an ad in some Illinois newspapers, looking for information on a man named Eddie Kroll. Someone called me claiming to have known him, but it turned out to be someone who’d only known him in grade school and thought someone—namely, me—was paying for information. She really had nothing that helped me. Last night, I got a call from a woman claiming to be related to him, though she was vague about the relationship. I’m flying out in the morning to meet with her in a little town called Sayreville.”

“Who’s Eddie Kroll?” Nina asked.

“That’s what I’m hoping to find out. All I know about him is that, when he was thirteen, he and two of his buddies were convicted of killing one of their classmates. He was tried as a juvenile, since he was the youngest of the three and therefore everyone assumed he was the most impressionable. He got out of juvie when he turned twenty-one and seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“Sounds like another book in the making. Assuming, of course, you can find out what happened to him.”

“Well, whoever he was, my dad was interested enough in him to keep his grade school report cards. I found them in the basement of Dad’s house, along with bits and pieces of information on other assorted crimes and criminals.” Regan chuckled. “My father was such a mess when it came to keeping things straight. He’d have a half-dozen files going on the same case because he could never remember where he put the others. It’s made going through his records a nightmare, but it’s been interesting all the same. He left enough notes for me to write for the next thirty years.”

“You just made your editor a very happy woman.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t solve your problem. I expect you to stay here in my house, but I won’t be able to pick you up at the airport or the train station.”

“Don’t give it a second thought. I’m grateful for the bed. I’ll rent a car and drive out, like I did when I came down for Olivia’s funeral.”

“Speaking of which, what do you hear from your stepbrother? Do you think he has any idea of what was in your father’s letter?”

“I’m sure he doesn’t. The sealing tape on that box was pretty old. I think maybe Olivia just opened the box, took one look inside, and taped it back up again.”

“Without reading the letter?”

Nina hesitated for a long moment. “Father Whelan told me that Olivia claimed she hadn’t opened it, but I’m not one hundred percent positive of that. The back of the envelope appeared to have been resealed, as if someone had steamed it open, then reglued it. Of course, I could be totally wrong about that.”

“Why would she have read it, then sealed it back up again?”

“I don’t know. You’d think if she’d read it, she’d have destroyed it. Why would she have wanted anyone to know that my father believed her to be the killer?”

“Was she the type of person who would have wanted the truth to come out after her death?”

“I honestly can’t answer that. I didn’t know her well enough. Kyle might be a better judge of that, but I just can’t bring myself to tell him what my father suspected.”

“Does he know about the letter?”

“Father Whelan mentioned it in front of him.”

“Don’t you think it’s strange that his mother didn’t leave the letter for Kyle?” Regan noted.

“Maybe she was thinking, my father wrote it, it contained his thoughts, therefore it should go to me. I have no other explanation. Unless she thought the letter contained something else.”

“Like what?”

“Like . . .” Nina thought for a minute, then said, “Like the fact that he’d left the house to me rather than to her.”

“Maybe. It just seems to me there’s more to it than that.” Regan, too, was thinking. “And it bothers me that if she knew what was in the letter, she didn’t destroy it outright.”

“So maybe she was telling Father Whelan the truth. Maybe she didn’t open it.”

“Something isn’t adding up,” Regan said. “If she did open it, why would she want you to know that your father suspected her? And if she didn’t open it, why not? Why not leave the letter for Kyle?”

“I have no answers. The more immediate problem is what to do about Kyle. He’s called twice, wanting to know if I’d read the letter, and what did it say.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth. I just couldn’t do it.”

“So what did you say?” Regan asked.

“I lied through my teeth. I told him I’d left the box in the trunk of the rental car.” Nina paused. “Which wasn’t a total lie. I had left the box in the trunk of the car. However, some well-meaning soul at the rental agency forwarded it to me.”

“I trust you left that part out when you were talking to Kyle.”

“I didn’t exactly talk to Kyle. I left the message on his answering machine.”

“So you wimped out all the way around.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Well, you’re going to have to come up with a better way of dealing with him than simply ignoring him, or leaving him voice mail.”

“I know. Maybe after I look through the files, I’ll have a better feel for whether or not my father’s allegations could be true. Assuming I can tell the difference.”

“When things are really off, they stand out. And if need be, we can always have Mitch take a look. He’s pretty good with the cold cases. And he’s very good on the computer. If there’s something out there, he’ll find it, if we can’t.”

“Good to know we have backup.”

There was a rap on Nina’s door. Hollis poked her head in the door and whispered, “Sales meeting in the conference room has been moved back. It’s starting now.”

“Regan, I have to run. I can’t thank you enough for everything. For the use of your house, for your moral support. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Well, then. I seem to recall having said those exact words to you not so long ago. It appears we’re now even.”

Nina’s flight was late, her reserved car turned out not to be, and by the time she got to the Stone River Police Department, it was nine thirty-five. She’d missed Detective Powell by nineteen minutes.

“I’m sorry, miss,” the officer in charge told her, “but I don’t generally go into the detectives’ offices and take things.”

“I’m sure it will be fine. He requested several boxes of files for me, and he had them photocopied, and I told him I’d be in tonight to pick them up. Didn’t he mention someone would be in to pick up some boxes?”

“He said someone. How do I know you’re that someone?”

“Can you give him a call, tell him that I’m here? I’m sure he’ll say it’s all right for you to go in there and get my files.”

Nina paced a bit while the call was made. She strained to listen to what was being said, but couldn’t hear.

“He said okay, he said he was sorry he left but he figured you weren’t coming, since you hadn’t called or anything to say you’d be late.” The officer got up from his desk and walked down the hall. “I’ll be back in just a minute.”

Nina paced a little more, wondering why Powell hadn’t called her before he left. He had her number. She looked at the display screen on her phone.
1 missed call.
She checked the number.

“What’s the number here?” Nina asked when the officer returned carrying a box.

“It’s 402-555-5700.”

“It figures.” She snapped the phone closed. Detective Powell had tried to call her at eight-fifteen. Right about the time she was arguing with the car rental agent. She must not have heard the phone ringing.

She should have called when she realized how late she was going to be.

“There’s another box.” The officer disappeared around the corner again, and returned a minute later carrying one more file box.

He sat the box on top of the desk and handed her a receipt.

“You can make the check payable to the Stone River Police Department.”

Nina took her checkbook from her handbag and wrote out the check and showed him her driver’s license without waiting to be asked. The bill was for way more than she’d expected—but she hadn’t realized how much paper was involved. There was no question what she’d be doing for the rest of the weekend.

She lifted the first box from the desk and took it out to the rented Taurus, and placed it in the trunk. She turned and found the officer coming down the walk behind her.

“I thought I’d give you a hand with this,” he told her.

“Thanks so much.” She stood back while he set the second box next to the first.

“Don’t mention it.” He slammed the trunk closed for her. “Sorry about the mix-up.”

“It’s all right. I should have called.” She got behind the wheel, turned on the ignition, and drove off.

The roads outside of Branigan, the small town where Regan lived, were windy and poorly lit. She slowed down as she approached several driveways before realizing they were the wrong ones. She found Regan’s almost by accident. At night, every drive and every house seemed to look the same.

She parked next to the deck, and opened the house, turning on all the floodlights at the back. When she’d finished removing her belongings, she locked the car and went back into the house, but she left the bright lights on. The house was very quiet, very isolated, and she felt just a bit edgy.

Regan had kindly left soup in the refrigerator, along with yogurt, fruit, cheese, diet soda, and white wine. Nina made herself a light supper, poured herself a glass of wine, and settled down with the boxes in the sitting room, after checking to make certain all the doors and windows were locked.

She’d just finished eating when her phone rang. The sudden intruding noise caused her to startle.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Madden. Detective Powell.”

“I’m so sorry I missed you, Detective. I was delayed on my trip down from New York.”

“You could have called.”

“Yes, and I should have. I apologize if you waited beyond whatever time you would normally have left.”

“There is no normal.”

“Yes, I have a job like that.”

“I doubt it,” he muttered, and she could hear the weariness in his voice. “I’m calling to let you know that you’re missing a couple of boxes.”

“I am?” She frowned. “There are two here.”

“There should be four. One for each victim.”

“I’ll drive back to Stone River tomorrow and pick them up. Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re staying in the area?”

“I’m in Branigan. At a friend’s.”

“I’d be happy to drop them off. I’ll be passing through there in the morning.”

“Really, you don’t have to do that. I’ll make the trip.”

“I should have waited. I knew you’d be there, after you made such a point to request the files.” He softened slightly. “I’ll be passing through Branigan early in the morning. You an early riser?”

“Actually, I am, but I really don’t think . . .”

“Give me the address.”

“Fifteen Shore Drive.”

“Easy enough. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He hung up without waiting for her to say good-bye.

“Okay, then,” Nina said. “I guess you will . . .”

* * *

Nina read until the fire had burned out, but she’d barely noticed. It was after two in the morning when she stopped to stretch her legs, and she was shocked to see how much time had passed. Normally a fast reader, she’d taken her time, making notes of the facts she felt were important. She wondered if Regan would agree.

She folded over the notebook and, leaving it on the chair, closed the fireplace flue and turned off the lights. Her eyes were begging for a break, and her back and neck were stiff from having remained in the same position for so long. Her body was telling her to wrap it up for the night, and she did. She went up the steps to the loft room she’d stayed in the last time she was there, and kicked off her shoes. She lay across the bed for just a moment, and was asleep before she knew it.