Identity (39 page)

Tyler and Jess Frasier’s conceptions may have been atypical, but the family dinner Fina interrupted was all-American.

The mysterious Jess answered the door and reluctantly introduced herself. The young woman was whippet thin but muscular. Her hair was brown and short, her face free of makeup. In her shorts and a BU track-and-field T-shirt, she could have passed for a high school student.

She led Fina into the kitchen, where Marnie sat at the table and Tyler was prepping plates at the counter.

“I can come back later,” Fina said, turning toward the front hallway. “You look like you’re having a real family dinner.”

Marnie smiled. “As opposed to a fake family dinner? This is how we have dinner in our house. You didn’t?”

“Hardly. People ate and ran. But seriously, I’ll come back.”

“Stay,” Tyler said. “There’s plenty, and you can give an unbiased opinion of my latest.”

Fina looked at Marnie, who nodded. Only Jess seemed less than enthused, avoiding Fina’s gaze.

“Thanks.” Fina took a seat, and Tyler handed her a glass of water. Marnie offered her wine, and Jess sat down, while Tyler went to the
stove. After a moment, he returned bearing a plate in each hand. He lowered one in front of his mother and the other in front of Fina.

“Roasted salmon with lentils and bacon,” he declared, and came back with two more plates. Fina looked at it. A perfectly sized salmon fillet was nestled on a bed of beans and small flecks of bacon. She inhaled deeply while Jess passed her a small plate of salad.

“This looks and smells amazing, Tyler. Is this a homework assignment or just for fun?”

“Homework.” He sat down and pulled a napkin into his lap. “We’re doing a unit on fish right now.”

The first five minutes of the meal were dominated by the sounds of cutlery and appreciative noises, especially from Fina. People assumed that, given her usual diet, Fina was opposed to healthy foods like fish and beans, but it wasn’t the flavor she minded; it was the preparation. She was lazy. If someone wanted to cook for her like this, she’d have no objection.

“I think the bacon is a little too smoky,” Jess commented after a minute, washing a mouthful down with some water.

“Ya think?” Tyler asked.

“Just a touch. I feel like it’s overwhelming the cleanness of the salmon.”

“Mom?” He looked to Marnie for her opinion.

“I agree. Just a touch.”

“You’re a tough crowd,” Fina commented.

“Per his request,” Marnie said.

“Yeah, it isn’t helpful if they don’t tell me the truth,” Tyler said between mouthfuls. “Only gets me in trouble with my professors.”

Everyone knew that Fina was there for a reason—not just an outstanding meal—but they seemed to reach an unspoken agreement that they wouldn’t sully dinner with talk of murder or scandal. Instead they talked about the kids’ studies, Jess’s involvement on the BU cross-country team, Marnie’s job, and a proposed family trip over Christmas. Fina’s job was a drudge sometimes, but it was also a privilege to be
invited into the homes and lives of strangers. And anyone who thought that a traditional nuclear family was the right kind of family needed to spend time with the Ludlows, the Frasiers, and the Collins-Kask families. The two-parent, heterosexual-led Ludlows were by far the most dysfunctional in the group.

Fina cleared the plates while Jess stacked the dishes. Marnie lingered at the table with Tyler, discussing the next day’s schedule. Fina tried to engage Jess in small talk, but the young woman wasn’t interested.

“I assume there’s business you need to discuss, Fina?” Marnie asked her after the counters were wiped clean.

“Actually, it’s Tyler I need to talk to.”

Jess frowned, and Marnie looked at Tyler. She hesitated, but then got up from the table. “I have some phone calls to make, unless you need me, Tyler?”

He wiped his hands on his pants. “No, I’m good.”

Jess leaned against the kitchen counter. Her short-sleeved T-shirt showcased her taut arms and well-defined muscles.

“We’ll go out back,” Tyler said, standing up from the table. His sister shook her head and dropped the sponge into the sink. She walked out of the room.

“Was it something I said?” Fina asked as she followed Tyler down the stairs into the backyard.

“Nah. She’s just protective of me. So, what’s up?” he asked, sitting on a patio chair.

She claimed the chair next to him. “Well, if I didn’t like you so much—and if you hadn’t fed me so well—I’d be really pissed at you.”

Tyler’s eyes widened into a “Who, me?” expression. Girls probably found his innocent charm irresistible.

“I just came from a meeting with Rosie and her mother and my brother, who is acting as Rosie’s attorney.” Tyler’s face lost some of its expression. “I know all about your visit to Hank’s house on the night of his death.”

“Rosie told you that?”

“No, I did this thing I do called ‘detecting’ and found video of you two dumbnuts driving around when you said you were at home in bed.”

Tyler chuckled.

“It isn’t funny,” Fina chastised him.

“It’s a little funny. You don’t actually think that either of us killed Hank, do you?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think; it matters what the police think.”

“They think we killed Hank?”

“Have they asked you for an alibi?”

“Yes.”

“And you told them you dropped Rosie at the apartment and were home all night?”

Tyler’s face clouded. “Yes.”

“So they have you on record lying to them.”

Tyler leaned forward in his chair. He proceeded to crack every knuckle and joint in both hands. It set Fina’s teeth on edge.

“So what do you want from me?” he asked.

“Tell me the truth, for starters.” She held his gaze.

“We smoked a little pot, went for a drive, and ended up at Hank’s.”

“Did you try to go in?”

“Like break in? No way. That place is like Fort Knox. We hung out on the sidewalk. We didn’t ring the bell or anything.”

“And then?”

“I dropped Rosie at Sam’s and came home. I went to bed. That’s it.”

“Does your mom know about your little escapade?”

“No.”

A lawn mower started up a few yards away.

“I won’t tell her,” Fina said, “but you might have to if the police get more involved.”

“I thought
you
were going to solve Hank’s murder.”

“I’m trying, but I’ve been wasting my time figuring out the lies you and Rosie have been spinning. It’s hard for me to concentrate on other suspects if I’m spending all my time on you two.”

“Sorry,” Tyler said, and actually looked sheepish.

“Apology accepted, but stop doing it. All right?”

“Scout’s honor.” Tyler raised his fingers in a pledge.

“Like you were ever a Boy Scout.”

“Briefly. They didn’t appreciate my energy.”

“I’ll bet.” Fina rose from her seat. “Thanks for dinner. I was impressed.”

“You should come again. I always welcome appreciative diners.”

“Say bye to your mom and Jess for me.” Fina stood.

“I really am sorry. Maybe I can make it up to you.”

“I can’t imagine how.”

Tyler mimicked smoking a joint.

“Oh, honestly. Your poor mother.”

He broke into a huge grin and laughed.

Fina walked through the side yard to her car. She couldn’t believe that Rosie or Tyler had done anything to harm Hank, but they’d lied. Just because you lied didn’t mean you were a murderer, but she’d yet to meet a murderer who wasn’t a liar.

•   •   •

Michael Reardon was home when Fina stopped by, although he didn’t look thrilled to see her.

“Is this a bad time?” She glanced behind him. Maybe he had company.

“No, it’s fine. I was just hanging out.” He was wearing jeans and a faded T-shirt, and his feet were bare. Fina followed him inside and up the stairs to the main living space. The TV was on, the screen frozen on a military scene in the crosshairs of a weapon.

“You play?” Michael asked.

“What is that, Call of Duty?”

Michael nodded. “Do you want a beer?” He padded over to the kitchen.

“Yeah, thanks. My brothers play this stuff sometimes, but I’ve never really gotten into those games.” She had a gun in real life; she didn’t need one in her fantasies.

Michael brought over a large can and a glass into which he poured the dark liquid. Fina took a sip, expecting a heavy, bitter flavor, but was surprised by its sweetness.

“That’s not what I expected.”

“It’s Czech.” They both took a seat on the overstuffed couch. “What can I do for you?”

“I had a very unsatisfying conversation with your mother earlier today.”

“Really?”

Fina detected a faint twitch in Michael’s neck.

“I’m trying to understand what’s going on with the funding for the Reardon Center, but she isn’t being forthcoming.”

Michael took a long pull from his drink. “What does funding for the Reardon Center have to do with anything?”

Fina looked at him. She leaned back into the couch and took another sip of beer. She was silent.

Michael glanced around the room. “What? You’re not going to say anything?”

“I’m adopting a new policy of not answering stupid questions.”

“How is that a stupid question?”

Fina put down her beer and rubbed her face with her hands. “We’re really going to do this? This charade where you pretend that nobody you know could possibly be responsible for your father’s death?”

“It’s not a charade. I
don’t
know anyone who could be responsible, especially not my mother.”

“I told you when you hired me that everyone was fair game.”

“I know, but I expected you to follow the evidence, not investigate us just to make a point.”

“What point would that be?”

“Equal treatment. That we’re not immune just because we’re his family and have money.”

“Seriously?”

“You don’t think maybe you’re going easy on the cryokids because they’re the underdogs?”

Fina shook her head. “No, I don’t think I’m going easy on them.”

Michael’s cell phone rang, and he looked at the display. “I have to take this.” He wandered into the kitchen and answered the call.

Fina was willing to admit to herself that she didn’t want Tyler or Rosie to be responsible for Hank’s death, but was that hope clouding her judgment? Was Scotty’s representation of Rosie a conflict of interest? Was she being easy on them because they hadn’t had as many breaks in life as Michael, Juliana, and Danielle? There was no question that Tyler was a more likable guy than Michael, but Fina felt confident that if the evidence led to him, she wouldn’t have a problem busting him.

Michael’s comments put her on notice, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. When you worked as an investigator by yourself—for yourself—you didn’t have the checks and balances that the cops did. Cristian and Pitney worked on behalf of the citizens of the Commonwealth; they were bound by an oath. Fina wasn’t, and sometimes that made things more complicated.

“Sorry about that.” Michael returned to the couch and sat down.

“No worries. Michael, I hear what you’re saying, and I will keep it in mind. I don’t think that I’m favoring anyone in this investigation, but I also can’t favor you or your mom. If she doesn’t want to discuss things with me, you can’t force her, but that will be an obstacle.”

“I understand.”

“What do you know about the plans for the Hank Reardon House?”

He looked genuinely befuddled. “I don’t know what that is.”

Fina had another sip of beer. She wasn’t going to say more about the mysterious Reardon House, not until she knew more herself.

“What about Heritage Cryobank? Did your father talk about them at all?”

Michael shook his head. “No. He didn’t discuss that with me. Why? What’s going on?”

“It seems that your father was in touch with the director of the cryobank shortly before his death.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“That’s what Danielle said.”

Michael drained his beer. “Do you have anything to report, or are you only here to ask me questions?”

“I can tell you that I’m making progress. However, I would love to know more about the fight your parents had over the Reardon Center funding. Seeking information from your mom doesn’t mean that I’m targeting her. It just means that I need more information.”

He sighed. “I’ll talk to her, but I can’t make any promises.”

“I would appreciate that.” Fina brought her glass to the kitchen sink. “Sorry to interrupt your game.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll be in touch as soon as I have something concrete to report.”

“Hope that’s soon,” he said, standing on the front door threshold, rocking back and forth on his feet.

He closed the door, and Fina returned to her car. She looked up toward his bay window, and after a moment, lights flashed behind the glass. His battle had apparently picked up right where he’d stopped it. Those were very considerate enemies.

•   •   •

Back at Nanny’s, Fina dialed Scotty’s number.

“I don’t have a plan yet,” she told him as she stripped off her clothes and climbed into bed.

“That’s all you have to say?”

“You told me to call you, and I’m calling you.”

“Okeydoke.”

“I’m on it, Scotty. I’ll figure something out. Is Haley home?”

“Everyone’s here, and the alarm is set.”

“Good.”

“Well, thanks for calling, at least. Now I don’t have to worry that you’ve been beaten to a bloody pulp and left in a ditch.”

“You’d be the only one worrying, but thanks. That’s sweet.”

Fina put her phone on the bedside table and turned off the light.

For the next eight hours, worry could take a backseat.