False Front (22 page)

The woman stared back at her and then relented, backing against the wall. Lucinda ascended and followed the sound of running water. She entered the master bedroom suite and approached the door of the en suite bath. Standing in the threshold she studied Tess wrapped in a robe, staring closely at her face in a swing-away mirror.

Tess’s eyes drifted to the large wall mirror and startled when she saw the person behind her. ‘Lieutenant,’ she said without turning around. ‘I’m certain you’ve been informed that it is not a convenient time.’

‘Yes. I was informed.’

‘As you can see, I am in the middle of my toilette. I don’t have much time. I have a fundraising event to attend.’

‘I doubt they’ll start the program without you, Ms Middleton.’

‘Call my secretary in the morning and set an appointment. And on your way out, please inform Juliet that I need to see her immediately.’

‘I think she’s busy packing.’

‘What?’

‘She knows you’re going to fire her for allowing me up here. But let me assure you she did try to keep me out. I’m a bit taller than her and I’m armed. I don’t think it was a fair fight.’

‘Leave my home immediately or I will call . . .’

‘The police? I’m here, Ms Middleton.’

‘My attorney,’ she spat.

‘I could arrest you now and let you call your lawyer from the jail.’

‘On what grounds? All you know is that my computer and my email account sent a message to a woman who committed suicide. If you arrest me, I will sue.’

‘Those kinds of threats have never stood in my way, Ms. Middleton. All I want to do is ask you a few questions about Candace Eagleton.’

‘I barely knew the woman.’

‘And Charles Rowland.’

‘Who?’

‘And Bonnie Upchurch.’

At that name, Tess blanched. She thought she’d burned that bridge with the deaths of Candace and Rowland. Interesting.

‘If you want to ask me any questions, contact my attorney. You met him today, I believe. I have nothing to say to you.’

‘Not now, Ms Middleton. But let me warn you, I don’t mind slipping information to the media. Even if you are not involved in the murders of your two former high school chums, it will ring a bell that cannot be unrung. Your campaign will be dead in the water.’

‘That, Lieutenant, is a threat. I will inform my attorney. Now leave my premises and don’t come back without a search warrant.’

Lucinda smiled and waited to make sure Tess caught sight of it in the wall mirror. Then she turned and walked away. On the way out, she turned to Juliet and said, ‘I told her it wasn’t your fault.’

‘I doubt that will do a bit of good,’ Juliet said and slammed the door behind Lucinda as she stepped out on the porch.

Lucinda walked to her car and turned to stare back at the house. There was a secret buried there and she was determined to unearth it.

FORTY-ONE

J
ake paused at the door to the room holding Becky and Dolly Carpenter. He hoped to dig the truth out of Becky but knew it wouldn’t be easy. The teenager’s expectant face turned toward the sound of the opening door and, just as quickly, looked away as she folded her arms across her chest.

Jake sat down across from them, nodding at Dolly as he took a chair. ‘Becky, were you romantically involved with Dylan O’Hara?’

‘What?’ she asked.

‘Were you sexually intimate with Dylan O’Hara?’

‘With Dylan? No.’ Becky gave her mother an anxious sideways glance.

‘I heard some secrets from another student today. It made me wonder if you are pregnant with Dylan O’Hara’s child.’

Becky’s mouth flew open and she shot to her feet. ‘No. No. Who told you that?’

‘It made me wonder if Dylan committed suicide because of your pregnancy.’

Becky planted her hands on her hips. ‘No. If you say I’m pregnant one more time . . .’

‘If he didn’t commit suicide because you are carrying his child, then why did he do it, Becky?’

‘He did it because . . .’ She paused, looked over at her mother, then gazed down at the floor, shaking her head.

‘Because, Becky?’

The girl kept staring at the floor, shaking her head.

‘I know you made a promise, Becky. But things have gotten out of control. Dylan’s dad threatened to kill someone today because he thought that young man murdered Dylan. People are being hurt because you won’t tell the truth.’

Becky looked up at Jake, her eyes vibrant with pain. She looked at her mother and again at the floor. Her head swung slowly back and forth.

Jake stepped over to Dolly and whispered, ‘I don’t know if it will help but it might – would you let me speak to Becky alone?’

Dolly stared into his eyes for a moment, then nodded her head. ‘Becky, I’m stepping out for a moment. But I’ll be close by. You need me, you call me. OK?’

Becky nodded without looking up.

‘Have a seat, Becky,’ Jake urged.

The teenager slid back into the chair and refocused her gaze on the table’s surface.

‘Becky, maybe I’m wrong, but it seemed like you were more concerned about speaking in front of your mother than you are about talking to me.’

‘Because I know she’ll tell Mr O’Hara. Actually, Mom is a big gossip. Everyone would know before we got back in the car.’

‘You sound very critical of your mother.’

Becky sighed. ‘I won’t lie. I like listening to her dish it out most of the time. This is just different. I couldn’t bear to have her talking bad about Dylan.’

‘You’ve got to tell me, Becky.’

‘I bet you’ll tell Mr O’Hara, too.’

‘So what if I do? Mr O’Hara has a right to know why his son died. His heart is broken, Becky. He needs answers.’

A long moment of silence stretched between them. At last, Becky looked up. ‘More than anything, he didn’t want his father to know.’

‘What horrible thing could Dylan have done?’

‘He didn’t think his dad would ever speak to him again.’

‘What did he do, Becky?’

‘It wasn’t what he did. It was who he was.’

Jake knew where the conversation was leading but acted as if he didn’t. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘Dylan wanted it to be different. He wanted to be like everyone else. I tried to help him. One night, I completely undressed, hoping it would turn him on. But, nothing . . .’

‘Becky, are you saying that Dylan committed suicide because he was gay?’

‘It was more like he did it because he didn’t want anyone to know he was gay.’ Becky shuddered. ‘I can’t believe I broke my word. I hope he doesn’t know it. I know you have to tell Mr O’Hara but please try to make him understand. Please don’t let him hate Dylan.’

‘I’ll do the best I can, Becky. And I think you need to explain everything to your mother. She’s very worried. Put her mind at ease. And give her some credit – she does know some things are not meant to be the subject of gossip.’

Becky nodded her head.

Jake opened the door and waved Dolly back inside to her daughter. Then he trudged down the hall to the room where Seth O’Hara waited. He wasn’t quite sure how to approach Seth. Was the man before him biased against gay men? Or was it worse – did he harbor hatred toward homosexuals? Or did Dylan shortchange his dad? Was Seth just a father who would, no matter how he felt about the issue, continue to love and support his son?

‘Am I going to be arrested on an assault charge?’ Seth asked.

‘Only if Todd Childress files a complaint. I am going to talk to him and his father after I talk to you. Depending on how things go in here, it’s possible that those charges will be dropped.’

Seth shook his head. ‘What do you mean “depending on how things go in here?” What’s happening?’

Jake laid one hand on the back of the other and leaned over the table. ‘Seth, I know why and how your son died.’

‘Did Todd confess?’

‘In a manner of speaking, yes. But he did not confess to murder. He told me what happened between him and your son Dylan – an encounter that led to your son’s suicide.’

‘There you go again – just like the rest of them.’

‘No, Mr O’Hara, that’s where you are wrong. The rest of them told you it was suicide but could offer no reason. I know exactly what drove Dylan to that ultimate act – but I’m not sure how you’re going to take it.’

‘Are you going to tell me the truth?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then I’ll take it just fine. Shoot,’ Seth said as he folded his arms across his chest and stared straight on at Jake.

‘Mr O’Hara, did you have any suspicions that Dylan was gay?’

‘My son, gay? Of course not. I’m not gay. My son’s not gay. End of story.’

‘You know, sir, that it doesn’t work that way. Heterosexual couples do have homosexual children.’

‘Not my son,’ Seth insisted, shaking his head in denial.

‘Yes, Mr O’Hara. I have it from a very reliable source.’

‘Oh, the deputy’s brat. The little Childress faggot. He told you my son was gay, didn’t he? And you bought it.’

Jake closed his eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Todd Childress did tell me of an incident in the shower in the locker room . . .’

‘Nothing but a sexual fantasy by the Childress boy. It has nothing to do with my Dylan.’

‘It was confirmed by someone close to Dylan, Mr O’Hara. Someone who did not want to tell me because of a promise made to your son. She swore she’d never tell his secret.’

Jake and Seth were interrupted by a knock on the door. ‘Agent Lovett, sorry to interrupt but Mrs O’Hara insisted that I let you know she’s here.’

‘Why don’t you escort her down here?’ Jake said. A moment later, Martha sat by her husband and took one of his hands in her own. She listened carefully as Jake repeated what he’d told Seth.

‘I see,’ she said and sat quietly for a moment. ‘Becky Carpenter must have been who told you.’

Jake didn’t respond.

‘It had to be,’ she said. ‘He wasn’t close to anyone else.’ She turned to her husband. ‘Seth, you never suspected?’

‘That our son was gay? Of course not,’ he said, pulling back his hand.

‘I’ve thought about it many times. His only close friend was a girl, but there didn’t seem to be any fire between them. He never dated. I never wanted to say anything – what if I was wrong? It could be traumatic for him. I thought he’d tell me when he was ready.’

‘Are you serious, Martha?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, Seth. But it wouldn’t have mattered, would it? He would have still been our son. I know I would have still loved him. Wouldn’t you, Seth? Wouldn’t you?’

‘He was my son, Martha. I can’t believe you needed to ask.’

‘Well, Seth, sometimes your language about gay people . . .’

‘I didn’t mean anything by it, Martha. I wouldn’t have said anything if I’d known or even ever had a question in my mind.’

Martha turned to Jake. ‘May we go now, Agent Lovett?’

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I may need to arrest your husband on assault charges at some point – but maybe not. In the meantime, there is no reason why you two can’t go home.’

‘Thank you. I’m going to try to arrange the funeral for the day after tomorrow. I’ll let you know when it’s definite.’

‘Thank you, Mrs O’Hara, Mr O’Hara.’ Jake stood in the hall and watched as the slumped and defeated couple made their way down the hall. Now he needed to use all his powers of persuasion to get Seth out of the mess he’d created.

FORTY-TWO

B
ack at the justice center, Lucinda made a beeline to the research office, where she found Lara working at her computer. ‘Quivey, I need your help.’

‘That’s why I’m here,’ Lara said with a smile.

‘I need you to look back at 1977 to 1978 for any crimes involving anyone who attended or worked at Livingston High School.’

‘Any crime? Even shoplifting or traffic violations?’

‘No. Not now. Look for felonies. Suspected felonies. Anything that could possibly have any connection to Teresa “Tess” Scott Middleton.’

‘You got it. I’ll send you a report as soon as I have anything.’

‘Thank you, Lara. I owe you.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Lara said with a chuckle. ‘You sure do.’

Lucinda stopped next at the lab where she was intercepted by Dr Audrey Ringo. Her bright orange-red hair battled for dominance with her turquoise outfit. With her white lab coat hanging on the peg, she was a solid blue-green from the neckline of her dress to the shoes on her feet. Without anything to break up the color, Audrey looked as straight up and down as one of those foam pool noodles people play with when they’re swimming.

‘Lieutenant,’ Audrey said. ‘When are you going back under the knife to take care of those scars on your face?’

‘Soon, Audrey,’ she said with a sigh.

‘As I am sure you know, I had surgery last year,’ Audrey said, referring to her mastectomy. ‘I tried to keep it secret but this place is like a harem of old gossiping women.’

‘I would think, Audrey, that you would understand my desire to keep the matter of my facial reconstruction private.’

‘Not the same, Lieutenant. The results of my procedure are hidden. Yours are out there for everyone to see. They talk about it constantly, wondering about it obsessively. I suspect there’s even a pool betting on when you’ll take the plunge again.’

‘Audrey, you and I both know that is not true. No one – but you – cares. My medical procedures are too boring for anyone else to contemplate. So cut the crap.’ Lucinda gritted her teeth. She knew that Audrey was a brilliant forensic scientist but realized that she was a miserable human being at times, seeming to thrive by creating discomfort in the people around her.

Before Audrey could spit out another venomous comment, Beth Ann Coynes popped out into the hallway. ‘Lieutenant, I thought I heard your voice. Did you get my message?’

‘No. I haven’t been to my desk.’

‘We got a hit on the DNA profile from under Candace Eagleton’s fingernails. Come look.’

Lucinda followed Beth Ann to her workstation and peered at the image on the computer screen. A mugshot of a man wearing a gray suit and a prominent smirk stared back at her. ‘Who is he?’

‘Julius Trappatino of Trenton, New Jersey. Suspected hit man.’

‘The mob?’

‘Occasionally he does hits for The Family. But he’s not on payroll; he’s strictly freelance and expensive. Suspected in a dozen or more murders, but nothing ever proven.’