Flash Flood (28 page)

He said, “Yes.” What was he thinking of? Then he said, “I love you.” Again. Out loud. To get used to it? Elaine walked to him, straddled his lap, and playfully kissed him.

“I know.” She nuzzled his neck.

Then she was gone, back to the counter to fix the tea. The ringing of the phone startled both of them.

“Just a minute, I'll let you ask him. He's here now.” She mouthed “Carolyn” and handed him the phone.

“A memorial service for J.J.? I guess so.” He looked up; Elaine was nodding. Dan listened to directions and made a note of the time before hanging up.

The service was short, held at a local funeral home. A grouping of pictures among candles and flowers made up a kind of altar in the front of the chapel. The pictures were of J.J., some as a child, alone and with family, others from graduations, high school, then college. Diplomas and law degree were displayed in gilt frames—this, instead of a body. This because there wasn't a body. How convenient for someone, a charred car and no body. A feeling of almost unbearable sadness hung in the room.

Mass was scheduled for the following morning. Dan was relieved to see crosses and other religious paraphernalia of Christians very much in evidence. Signs of witchcraft were simply not present. He wondered, though, if there might not be some special rite, something deep in the woods, planned for later on.

A woman, who was probably J.J.'s mother, was supported by a man Dan didn't know on her left, but on her right was Jorge. The tall good-looking foreman didn't look up as Dan walked down front to place flowers near a podium. Dona Mari stood next to them wrapped in a black shawl. J.J. was her sister's boy. The old woman seemed shaken, almost befuddled fumbling with a rosary; perhaps the shock had been too much. Or maybe, she, too, suspected he had been killed. But Dan wasn't going to think about that, not tonight.

Carolyn and Phillip invited them to their house after the service, insisted on it, said it had been too long between visits. Carolyn seemed thrilled to see Dan and Elaine together. Took credit for it, Dan decided. But, at least, his mother would sleep better. And so would Simon, who threw himself at Dan, then chased around in excited circles.

The early October night was too cool to sit outside. The four of them moved to the living room, Elaine and Carolyn trading “son at college” stories. It was comfortable. More comfortable than it had been with the two bimbos, as his sister had called his first wives. He had missed this feeling of family closeness. Maybe his mother and Carolyn had been right to be concerned. He settled back into the sofa cushions. Funny, how he seemed to be seeing things in a different light all of a sudden.

Carolyn rose to get ice and a bottle of white wine from the fridge; Elaine went with her. There were no servants tonight. Even the ever-present bodyguard had disappeared and they had left Dona Mari at the service with her family.

Dan asked Phillip about campaign contributions. Not that he was interested, but he was making a concerted effort to be brotherly. Maybe in the past, Dan hadn't tried hard enough. Wasn't that what dear old Mom had always said? Been too wrapped up in his own life? Time to change that. He was thinking about time, how much they had lost; time that they could have spent getting to know one another; time being a family when they heard the sound of breaking glass. He made it to the kitchen just ahead of Phillip.

“Clumsy of me.” Carolyn was dabbing at a trickle of blood that escaped down her ankle from where a sliver of glass had grazed her leg. “The bottle just slipped.” She was leaning against a hand-carved oak table.

Elaine was picking up the pieces of tinted glass that seemed to have gone everywhere. Dan got a whisk broom and dust pan out of the pantry and was squatting down to help Elaine when Carolyn said, “Tell Phillip what you just told me.” The way she said it; the urgency in her voice made Dan look up.

And he knew Elaine had confided that Eric was alive, sitting back in prison, in Milford. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, but didn't know why. Elaine was saying that it was a long story but because he was still alive, she was finally divorced, had served Eric with papers last week and because of the circumstances, the waiting period was waived. And then she happily shared that Dan was moving in with her, tentatively, looking at him first, but he smiled reassuringly.

Carolyn bounced up to kiss Elaine on the cheek but the enthusiasm was fake. Dan knew his sister well enough to know that. She suddenly didn't care about his love life. All her attention seemed to be on “poor Eric.” Phillip had reacted more strangely still. After listening to Elaine, he excused himself to go get his drink. Or compose himself, Dan wondered which. He appeared shaken. But wasn't Eric his best friend?

They finally ended up back in the living room. Curiosity seemed to have restored Carolyn, who was now peppering Elaine with a question a second about Eric.

“I can't believe you didn't tell us. I just thought Dan was being his usual nerdy self about women.”

Thanks a lot, Dan thought.

“When all this time you were being held against your will—no, you forget I know you.” Carolyn had seen Elaine shake her head. “You were being held, all right. And to think how brave you had to be.”

“I don't know whether I really thought he was dangerous. I suppose I did.” Elaine seemed uneasy with painting Eric the villain.

“Of course you did. I can't even imagine how you lived with him. Not after everything….” Carolyn bent to dab at her calf.

“What was your part in all this?” Phillip had turned to Dan. “I'm sure you know about the two million that Midland Savings and Loan was supposed to have waiting for him.”

“What two million?” This from Carolyn, who now was completely revived, the cut on her calf forgotten. Elaine filled her in on the details.

“And you knew about this as a bank trustee, and didn't tell me?” Carolyn seemed genuinely irked at Phillip.

“Thought the fewer people who knew, the better. Sorry to say, but it did cast suspicion on Billy Roland.”

“Sounds like he did it, if you ask me. A cover-up. Wouldn't be the first time someone wondered where he got all his money.” Carolyn added, “Haven't we all seen the wife? He'd need a second income just to keep her in collagen implants.” Carolyn hammed an exaggerated pout.

“For God's sake, Carolyn, drop it. We're maligning the dead,” Phillip barked, then recovered and sheepishly reached over to tousle his wife's hair. “How many times in the last twenty years have I had to remind you that this isn't Chicago? Small towns, Carolyn, have—”

“Big ears.” She was smiling, none the worse for her husband's shortness, Dan thought. “And a governor-to-be's wife shouldn't have opinions—controversial ones, that is.” She smiled up adoringly at Phillip. Dan wondered vaguely if she practiced that in front of a mirror. Was it real? It reminded him a little of Pat Nixon.

“Eric asked me to help him out—” Dan realized he hadn't answered Phillip earlier—“find the proof that Billy Roland was behind it all.”

“And?” Carolyn leaned forward.

“Didn't find anything that pointed a finger at the old man. No wrongdoing of any kind.”

“Are you saying the investigation for United Life and Casualty cleared Billy Roland of anything shady with those dead cows?” Phillip asked.

Dan briefly told them about Miss Iris.

“And no comments, Carolyn. I don't want to hear ‘I told you so,'” Phillip said.

“So you're finished out here?” Carolyn asked.

“Almost.”

“Then what? Will you stay on for a while?”

Did Carolyn know what she was asking? Was she trying to figure out how serious he was about Elaine? It was something he hadn't discussed with Elaine, but would have to face; that is, if the love of his life didn't turn out to be a killer. He thought of Billy Roland and J.J. and fought back a wave of despair.

“We haven't gotten that far,” Elaine said. She was watching him closely; could she suspect what he was thinking?

“Where do you think all this will lead?” This from Phillip, and Dan knew he wasn't talking about his affair with Elaine, probably hadn't noticed his lovely wife trying to pry into her brother's love life.

“Not sure.” Dan paused. “J.J. might have had some answers.”

Carolyn and Phillip listened to his account of J.J.'s part in the promise of the two million.

“His death was just an unbelievable coincidence or…?” Carolyn shuddered.

“I can't think of all this happening in Roswell. I grew up here. Seems hard to imagine someone wanting to harm someone else.” Phillip got up to put another splash of both scotch and water in his glass. “Do you have any other promising leads?”

“One,” but it's not for discussion, Dan thought.

“Can you talk about it?” Carolyn must have read his mind.

“Not yet.”

“You know, I hate to think of Eric sitting in Milford. This has got to be hard on him. Psychologically, I mean. Can you imagine serving seven years—and let's say he
was
set up, only to be freed and caught in a flash flood, and then have things happen around him that are out of his control.” Phillip paused. “What if Billy Roland masterminded the whole thing, where does that leave Eric now?”

“Up the proverbial creek, when it comes to the money or even knowing, for sure, who was behind it.” Dan was feeling uneasy. Elaine had said very little, just watched the rest of them pick over her husband's misfortune. Misfortune? Was he going soft on Eric, too? Was he feeling magnanimous because he was sleeping with the wife, former wife? He had to keep reminding himself about the former part.

“I don't see why Eric should be in prison now.”

“Phillip, he threatened Elaine,” Carolyn said.

“Maybe if I visited him, talked some sense into him.”

“That might be helpful, Phillip. I think Eric would appreciate your interest.” Elaine added to Dan, “Shouldn't we be rounding up Simon and leaving soon?”

Dan agreed.

They were on the way home, Simon's head between them from his perch on the back seat, when Elaine put into words what was bothering him.

“What if Phillip gets Eric out? Would it be safe for him?”

Dan felt a twinge of something. Of course, she cared about Eric. He was Matthew's father. But still…. And would he be safe? A lot depended on what the feds found out about the tire. But didn't Elaine say she got a pistol after she realized she would have the nerve to shoot Eric? How had she meant that question?

***

Dan was beginning to think he could be easily sidetracked. The days after J.J.'s funeral were filled with a little work at United L & C and a lot of play—long walks with Elaine and Simon, candlelight dinners even if it was only good wine and a frozen pizza, a trip to the Double Horseshoe to put flowers on Billy Roland's grave. And sex. Lots and lots of good banging. And, if he was being honest, he had never been as happy.

Then the call came from Roger. A disgruntled Roger, who had found him at the office, a little pissed that Dan had moved out of his apartment and in with Elaine and had removed the tap. Tough. Dan wouldn't expect agents to be too open to change. But Roger seemed to get over it when Dan asked him about the tire. Exactly why he was calling; he wanted to meet in half an hour. He'd come to Dan's office.

Roger was without Tom this time. A virus was keeping Tom out of action for a few days.

“Here's the report. Gotta hand it to you. You were right on.”

Dan scanned the page, bullet hole not the result of a recent shooting, difficult to pinpoint date but educated guess put the puncture at two to four months old; tire contained traces of deposits consistent with river water; rim was likely from a sixty-nine Cadillac. Too bad for Sheriff Ray that he didn't realize how helpful he was being keeping the tire under a tarp. He handed the page back.

“Looks good. Will you question Sheriff Ray?”

“That may be hard to do.”

“Why?” Dan fought the mounting fear. Something was wrong.

“He's disappeared. Thought you might know something you aren't telling.”

“Me? Like what?”

“Thought you might have taken things into your own hands and had a little talk with him.”

“No.”

“You didn't do us any favors with that J.J. guy. He's sort of worthless to us all now, isn't he?”

“I didn't say anything.”

“Well, who knows, Judge Cyrus seems to think Sheriff Ray has gone back to Massachusetts to visit family. Says he took his wife, closed up the station for a while. Thought he'd had this vacation planned for some time. We can't find anything to the contrary.”

“Get someone on it.” Dan was surprised to hear the urgency in his voice.

“One ahead of you. Got an all points out from here to Mass. So far, nothing. Could be they just took a detour, Texas maybe, wanted to see Six Flags, the Alamo, that kind of thing. Judge thought he had a sister in San Antonio.”

“He's the one honest-to-God link that we have. Not to mention, you could get him on a little attempted murder with my testimony.”

“Hey, calm down. We're doing everything we can.”

Dan sat at his desk a long time after Roger left. He didn't like it. The disappearance of Sheriff Ray bothered him. Not for one minute did he believe the vacation story. Ray was on the run, pure and simple. And, now it was going to be interesting to see who found him first—the good guys or the bad guys.

Abruptly, Dan stood, grabbed his jacket from the back of the door, then returned to the desk to dial Elaine's number. He let it ring; she had said she was going shopping, no problem, he preferred to leave a message anyway, he heard the familiar click and a recorded voice telling him what number he'd reached. The message was simple—he'd be home late. No need to upset her by telling her he was on his way to Milford Correctional.