Muscle Memory (26 page)

“I was scared. Scared and embarrassed. I mean, think about it. Suddenly you show up, this lawyer from Boston, asking questions? I didn’t want to deal with it, man. I knew I didn’t do anything wrong. I mean, I was there that night, and I figured I could be in trouble. But I didn’t kill her. And I didn’t know anything. It was easier.”

“To lie.”

He nodded.

I smiled at him. “Do you feel better now?”

“Well, yeah, actually I do.”

“Are you prepared to tell this to the police?”

He frowned. “I figured, you’re a lawyer, and—”

“You’re not my client, Will, and I’m an officer of the court. That means I’ll have to tell them what you’ve told me, and then they’ll interrogate you.”

He shrugged. “I guess I got no choice, right?”

“No, not really.”

Will was staring out at the pond, where miniature whitecaps rolled across the surface. The wind had picked up, and now the sky was dark with ominous clouds.

I thought of Darren Watts, dying in a pond considerably smaller than Walden. “Will,” I said, “Where were you Monday night?”

“Monday? Why?”

“Somebody was murdered Monday night.”

“Oh, jeez. Murdered?”

“Yes. Darren Watts. He saw your car at the Fallons’ house that night.”

“I didn’t kill anybody,” he said. “I told you, I—”

“I hope you didn’t,” I said. “So where were you?”

“Monday?” he said. “That’s easy. I have the afternoon shift on Mondays. I’m in the pit until we close at nine. Stay another hour helping Frank clean up, get home around ten-thirty. My mother always keeps dinner waiting for me. I take a shower, and me and my parents watch TV together while I eat.”

“Every Monday?”

“Yes.”

“Including this past one?”

“Right.”

“I hope this isn’t a lie,” I said.

“Don’t you believe me?”

“It doesn’t matter whether I do. The police will check. If you’re lying, they’ll know it.”

“Well, I’m not lying this time.”

I nodded, stood up, and brushed the sand off the seat of my pants. “Okay. Come on. We’ll talk to the police. But first, we’re going to a party.”

“Party? What kind of party?”

“The sad kind, Will. The kind of party they have after a fu­neral, where people who knew the deceased tell her loved ones how much they appreciated her.”

He shook his head. “Oh, man…”

“I want you to meet Kaye Fallon’s two children. You can tell them she was a good teacher. They’d appreciate that.”

He nodded. “She
was
a good teacher. She cared about kids, you know?”

“Danny and Erin would like to hear that,” I said.

“Sure,” he said. “I can tell them that. But what about…?”

“What you told me?”

He nodded.

“You’ll have to tell the police, of course. I’ll be with you if you want. As your friend, not as a lawyer. But as long as you’re telling the truth, you won’t need a lawyer.”

Will Powers followed me in his black Volkswagen bug over the back roads of Concord to Gretchen and Lyn’s house. I kept my eye on the rearview mirror. I half expected Will to chicken out, but he stayed with me.

The Conleys’ winding street was lined with cars on both sides. Will and I parked about fifty yards from the house and began to walk back.

“You okay?” I said to him.

He glanced sideways at me and laughed shortly. “I was thinking,” he said. “What if somebody sees my car and knows I used to drive by her house all the time? Or what if she told her kids about me? You know, the dumb pervert who tried to kiss her in the parking lot? If I was her son, I think I’d punch me out.”

“Just tell them you were one of her students,” I said. “They’ve got other things on their mind. Anyway, I doubt if she would’ve told them about that.”

He nodded skeptically.

The breeze was cold and moist, and the black clouds hung low in the sky. Rain was coming.

I heard mingled voices and an occasional burst of laughter as we rounded the corner to the Conleys’ house. A few people were standing on the front lawn, and others were sitting on the steps, holding plastic glasses and paper plates. The women were press­ing their dresses against their legs in the swirling wind, and they were all talking in groups of twos and threes.

Will and I turned up the driveway. Suddenly he stopped and grabbed my arm.

I turned to him. “What’s the matter?”

His fingers dug into my forearm. “That’s it,” he whispered.

“What are you talking about?”

He pointed at Lyn Conley’s gunmetal gray Lexus. “That car. That’s the one that was in her driveway that night.”

“A
RE YOU SURE?”
I said to Will.

He nodded emphatically. “Damn right. It was a ninety-seven Lexus. Definitely. Don’t know why I didn’t recognize it, except maybe because it was so dark, plus we don’t get many Lexuses coming in to Jiffy Lube. Lexus people probably get their oil changed at the dealer. And that’s the color. That’s it, all right. That’s the one.”

“I doubt if this is the only gray ’ninety-seven Lexus on the road,” I said.

He looked at me. “Oh, yeah. I see what you mean.” He shrugged.

“Any way you could distinguish this car from another one of the same make, model, and color?”

“No, I guess not.” He looked at me and smiled. “It’s pretty obvious you’re a lawyer, you know? I sorta jumped to a conclusion, I guess. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. In fact, I had no doubt that Lyn Conley’s Lexus was the car Will had seen in Kaye’s drive­way that night. But I didn’t want him to know it. Not yet. I slapped his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Come on. Let’s go inside.”

We started for the front door.

“I guess I shouldn’t say anything about that car to anybody, huh?” said Will.

“Not a good idea.”

He looked at me and grinned. “Must be hundreds of cars like that around here.”

“Will,” I said, “for Christ’s sake—”

“I’m not stupid,” he said. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. Just don’t say anything.”

He nodded. “You can trust me.”

The folks on the front lawn were filtering back into the house. The breeze seemed to be softening, but the air had become downright chilly.

Will and I followed a pair of middle-aged couples inside, then paused in the foyer. I tiptoed up to look over the heads of the people who were milling around, and I spotted Danny Fallon. I grabbed Will’s elbow. “Come on. I’m going to introduce you to Kaye Fallon’s son. His name is Danny. He’s about your age.”

We shouldered our way over to Danny. He was standing there with Erin and Ned and Linda Conley and four or five other young people. They were all holding cans of Coke or Sprite.

Erin spotted me, smiled, and came over. “Mr. Coyne. Thanks a lot for coming.” She hugged me.

I returned her hug, then stepped away from her. “How’re you doing, Erin?”

She bobbed her head from side to side. “It’s so—so weird. But, gee, everybody’s been really supportive and nice, you know?”

“Your mom had a lot of friends.” I put my arm on Will’s shoulder. “This is a friend of mine. Will Powers. He was one of your mother’s students.”

Erin smiled at him and held out her hand. “It’s really nice of you to come.” She turned her head. “Hey, Danny. C’mere a minute.”

Danny came over. He saw me and held out his hand. “Hey, Mr. Coyne.”

I shook hands with him. “You doing okay?”

“Pretty good,” he said. “Aunt Gretchen and Uncle Lyn have been great, and so’ve Ned and Linda. And all these people…” He waved his hand around.

Erin touched Danny’s shoulder. “This is one of Mom’s students,” she said. She was holding Will’s hand.

“Hey, man,” said Danny.

The two of them banged fists, and Erin tugged Will over to the group of young people they’d been talking with.

Will looked back at me with a smile. “Catch you later,” he said.

Danny was frowning at me. “Did you see him?”

“Who?”

“My dad. At the church.”

I nodded.

“I didn’t tell Erin. She didn’t see him.” He shook his head. “He—he never came over, or caught up with us afterward, or…”

“Danny—”

“No, man. Listen. He didn’t come to the cemetery, and he’s not here, and I’m trying to figure it out, but the only thing that makes any sense—”

“Don’t do this,” I said. “I’m not sure exactly what you’re thinking, but trust me on this. You must not think bad things about your father. Have faith in him, okay?”

He shook his head. “I’m trying, man, but…”

“Please. Trust me.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “You know something, huh?”

Just then Gretchen grabbed my arm and gave me a hug. “Thanks for coming, Brady,” she said. “It means a lot to all of us.” She turned and smiled at Danny. “Right?”

He nodded. “Right. Definitely.” He jerked his chin at me. “Later, okay?”

“Later,” I said.

Danny turned and joined Erin and Will and the others, who were all talking and smiling like old friends.

Gretchen still had her arm hooked through mine. “That was a very fine eulogy you gave,” I said to her.

“Boy, it was hard,” she said. “I felt ridiculous, breaking down like that.”

“We were all moved.”

She smiled quickly. “Want to meet some people?”

I smiled. “Not especially, to tell you the truth. In fact, I dread the prospect. I just wanted to pay my respects to Danny and Erin. And you and Lyn, too, of course.” I looked around. “Where is Lyn?”

“Last I saw him, he was out in the kitchen helping with the food. Lyn’s not such a great mingler. He likes it better when he has something to do. Makes him feel useful.”

“I’m the same way,” I said. “I’ll go find him.”

She tiptoed up and kissed my cheek. “Thanks for everything,” she said softly. “Get yourself a drink, something to eat.” Then she turned and wandered away.

I made my way to the kitchen, where a good-sized crowd had gathered, the way party crowds usually gather in kitchens. I stood in the archway and watched. Lyn and three or four women were peeling the plastic wrap off platters of hors d’oeuvres, slid­ing casseroles into and out of the oven, popping other things into the microwave. Lyn was wearing a flowered apron over a white button-down dress shirt. Somewhere along the way he’d taken off his necktie and rolled up his sleeves. He seemed to be taking orders from one of the women.

When he spotted me, he rolled his eyes, grinned, and held up a finger.

A minute later he came over. He held out his hand. “Brady,” he said. “Boy, am I glad to see you. Give me an excuse to escape that.” He jerked his head back toward the kitchen.

I shook his hand. “This is terrific, what you’re doing for those kids,” I said. “Why don’t you ditch that apron, take a break, come get some fresh air with me?”

“You don’t have to ask twice.” He took off his apron and tossed it onto a chair. “Let me get you something to drink. There’s wine and beer.”

“Just a Coke, please.”

“Be right with you. Meet you out back.”

I opened the screened slider and went out onto the deck. Nobody else was outside. They’d all been driven in by the cool mist that had begun to sift down from the gray sky. The breeze had died completely now, as if the clouds had decided to settle right where they were for a while so they could proceed with some serious raining.

The mist felt refreshing on my face after the closed-in stickiness of the house. I lit a cigarette and leaned my forearms on the rail. The misty air blurred and muted the colors of the meadow as it sloped off toward the marsh and the river beyond. It looked like a watercolor painted mostly with ochres and umbers on wet paper.

A minute later Lyn appeared at my side. He put a can of Coke on the rail beside my elbow. He was holding a plastic glass.

“Thanks,” I said. “What’re you drinking?”

“Oh, the usual.” He grinned. “Tonic water with a twist. To­day makes one more day, you know?” He laughed shortly. “Can’t say I haven’t been tempted lately, though.”

I nodded. “You can’t drink anything at all, huh?”

“The whiff of it’s poison to me,” he said. “A party like this—it tests me. That’s why I hang out in the kitchen wearing an apron and taking orders from women. It keeps me occupied.” He cocked his head and smiled. “I still go to meetings. I’ll always have to, they tell me.”

“Not even a beer, huh?”

“Hell, no.” He frowned at me. “What happened to your face?”

I touched my tender cheekbone. It felt swollen and very tender. “Nothing,” I said. “Little accident. Kind of embarrass­ing, to tell you the truth.”

“Looks like someone hit you.”

“I know,” I said. “It does look like that.”

We were both leaning on our forearms, gazing off into the distance.

“I told Gretchen how much I admire what you folks are do­ing,” I said after a minute.

“We all loved Kaye.” He hesitated. “And Mick, of course. Danny and Erin are family.”

“So what’s the plan?”

“Oh, the kids know they’re welcome to stay as long as they like. They’re starting to talk about getting on with their lives. I think Danny’s going to head back to Block Island tomorrow or the next day. I’m not sure what Erin’s plans are. I have the feeling she might want to hang around for a while. She and Linda get along well, and Erin doesn’t really have anyplace to go.” Lyn glanced sideways at me. “I think they both feel like they have unfinished business, though.”

“Mick, you mean?”

He nodded.

“He was there this morning, you know. At the church.”

“Yes,” said Lyn. “I saw him. I’m glad he’s okay, but I can’t understand what he’s thinking.”

I nodded and took a sip of Coke. “So how are
you
doing with all this?”

“Me?”

I nodded. “Gretchen got a lot of sympathy, and Danny and Erin, of course. You were close to Kaye, too.”

“Yes,” he said. “I was.”

“People sometimes assume we guys don’t feel things the way women and kids do. It must’ve devastated you.”

“Boy, you’ve got that right.” He let out a long breath. “Gretch was hysterical. I had to take care of her. I really couldn’t…” He shook his head, smiled quickly, then brushed the back of his hand across his face and blinked a couple of times.