Revenant (32 page)

I wanted to go to Mitch, to offer support, but I didn't have the strength to get out of bed. “Where has he been all this time?” My eyes burned with emotion. Not for Jeffrey, but for Mitch. Mitch clearly loved his brother, yet he couldn't protect him.

“New Orleans and along the coast to Texas. Living in homeless shelters or wherever he could manage.” He cleared his throat. “He was so close, all this time.”

“Why did he start killing again?”

“The story you broke on the bodies being exhumed at the Gold Rush made it onto the New Orleans news. He thought it was a sign that he had to start again.”

I felt a little dizzy and leaned back. Mitch was at my side in an instant. He settled the pillows behind me.

“You have to rest, Carson. You almost died.”

I nodded my agreement.

Mitch paced the small room. “I'm not trying to justify anything, but I want you to know this. Jeffrey isn't a monster, or at least he wasn't always. When we were younger, Dad would punish us severely if we talked above a whisper. Even when he beat us, the house had to be perfectly quiet. God forbid if we dropped something by accident, or if the phone rang. He punished us for talking at the table, and for being dull and stupid and not talking. He beat us for staying in the house and for going outside to play. My father was a cruel and abusive man, and it took the biggest toll on Jeffrey.”

I swallowed, unable to think of anything comforting to say. Mitch had lived a nightmare. “When did you realize he'd escaped from the institution?”

“They didn't let me know right away. I guess they hoped to cover their ass and find him. They called after Pamela Sparks was murdered, but I didn't put it together. I figured Jeffrey had gone back to the streets. He'd managed for twenty-four years. It never occurred to me that he was home and killing young women.” He turned slowly and faced me. “I had no idea that Alana had been murdered. Not until he told me.”

I believed him. “Why did you ask me to stop by your house?”

“By last night, I'd put most of it together, and I needed your help. You could write the story and do it justice. I didn't want him hurt. Then he took Brittany, and it spun out of control.”

“Where is he now?”

“In jail. They'll transfer him to the state mental institution at Whitfield for a psychiatric evaluation. He won't last six months.” He looked at me and I saw the horror of his childhood in his eyes.

“Why did he bury the girls at the Gold Rush?”

Mitch shrugged. “Alvin will never tell me the truth, but he must have known. There was heavy equipment in the parking lot all that summer. Alvin had the sewer lines reworked and some other projects going. Jeffrey liked to hang out there. I think it was convenient and he had access to a backhoe on the premises. He could slip up there in the early morning hours when the club was closed and bury the woman he killed in a matter of minutes. Alvin wasn't going to report the disturbances of that secluded part of the parking lot.”

All along, Alvin had known. I'd seen it in his face when I interviewed him. He'd kept quiet about Jeffrey, waiting for Mitch's star to rise. Were he not in Angola prison, he'd be putting the screws to Mitch in a blackmail scheme right now.

Restless, Mitch paced to the window. “Alana was such a lovely, sweet girl. All these years, I can still hear her laughter. I'll always be haunted by her.”

“Mitch, you didn't know.” My words were as ineffective as throwing pebbles at a tornado. “You can't blame yourself. You didn't know.”

“I should have known.”

“You were a kid. A college kid. You'd finally gotten away from the horrors of your family and—” The question demanded an answer. I hated to ask but I had to. “The fire that killed your parents?”

“It was ruled accidental. I was at a Boy Scout campout, and Jeffrey was supposed to be at a baseball clinic.” When he faced me I saw the doubt on his face.

“Do you think Jeffrey set the fire?”

“Yes. I'm certain he did. I think Alvin helped cover it up with that official ruling of faulty electrical wiring. Alvin was always a man with long-range plans.”

Something else troubled me. “What about the fingers?”

“They're all buried in Alana's grave. Each one in a gravy boat. Avery and a forensics team recovered them.”

“I found the bridal gift lists for the girls, and every single one included a gravy boat. I don't get the significance.”

He looked down at the floor for a moment. “The worst beating Jeffrey ever got was over my mother's gravy boat. Dad almost killed him. He broke all the fingers on his left hand.” He looked into my eyes. “I was the one who broke the dish. Mother was furious, and she knew what would happen if she told Dad—she told him anyway.”

I tried to sit up, but Mitch came to the bed and took my hand. “Take it easy, Carson. There's nothing else to be done.” A tiny smile lifted the corners of his mustache. “You almost got yourself killed, but you probably saved that young woman.”

He walked to the door, turning for a last remark. “Riley has been fired. He confessed to the note and the matches. He tried to scare you off because he didn't want his wife to know about his mistress. He got involved with one of Alvin's dancers years ago and she has three kids by him. That's what he was hiding.”

“Thanks, Mitch.”

“Don't thank me. When Avery found out what Riley had done, trying to intimidate you, Avery threatened to go to the press. Chief Nelson fired Riley on the spot.”

“Avery was going to the press. Who would have thought?”

“I guess everyone has something to hide. Some dreadful secret that we all fear will be unearthed.”

I nodded because it was true.

“There's someone else you should thank,” Mitch said. “Jack. He called Avery and sent him out to the cemetery.”

“I'll thank him when I see him.”

“Get some rest.” He left the room, closing the door behind him. I gave him ten seconds, then rang the nurse. I needed a laptop and a phone line. I had a story to write.

Before I could begin, I had a couple of additional questions. I dialed Avery.

“Well, if it isn't the ace reporter,” Avery said when he heard my voice. “I'd hoped to get at least a day's rest before you started calling.”

“Very funny. If the gate to the pier was locked, how did Jeffrey get Pamela Sparks out there?”

“Bolt cutters.”

“The chain was cut?” I ran through the scene in my mind. I'd gone past the gate, but I hadn't noticed because it was dark. “If you'd told me that, I would never have suspected Riley took her there in a boat.”

“And Riley might still be deputy chief. Something good came of it.”

I wanted to rap him upside the head with my knuckles, but there was no point getting angry. Avery had his job and I had mine. They wouldn't always flow parallel to each other. “So what about the bridal veils? Where did Jeffrey get them?”

There was a moment's hesitation on the line. “I guess it doesn't matter now. From thrift shops and used-clothing stores, all except for Pamela Sparks's. That was Alana's veil. Jeffrey must have stored it somewhere after the wedding. He brought it out after the dead girls were exhumed and began killing again.

“There's one more thing.” Now it was me who hesitated. “Do you think Mitch will be okay?”

“Yeah. It won't be easy. He's losing his brother a second time, and in tragic circumstances. In some ways, Jeffrey died a long time ago. At least the brother Mitch loved. He'll come to see that.”

I hoped so. I looked out the window and saw the angle of the sunlight. “I have to go. I'm on deadline.”

“You're tough, Carson. I think you and Mitch both will do just fine.”

 

The coffeepot had just started dripping when I heard the thud of the newspaper against the front porch. The morning was chilly, a rare occurrence for late March. I tied the yellow chenille robe more tightly around me and slipped on the ridiculous pink flamingo slippers Avery and his wife had brought as a get-well present. Jill, their daughter, was helping with the cats in exchange for advice on a career in journalism. I shuffled to the front porch for the paper.

The tall man standing on my porch caught me by surprise. I smiled as I held the door open for Michael. “Come in.”

He gave me a long look. “You look wonderful,” he said.

I laughed. The robe was at least twenty years old and Miss Vesta and Chester had pulled it to pieces with their claws. The slippers made me walk like a pregnant woman. “Right.”

“I came to look at your wound. I heard that you haven't been tending it properly.”

I hadn't gone back to the doctor, but the cuts had been merely flesh wounds. The stitches would come out in another six days, leaving a hairline scar.

“My neck is fine.”

“Let me see,” he said as he led me to the kitchen, sat me down at the table and began to unwrap the dressing.

“Who told you I wasn't taking care of myself?” I asked.

“Detective Boudreaux.”

“Oh, really? Avery has become very good at poking his nose in my business.”

“Yes, when I met him at the hospital, he and I both agreed you need someone to keep you safe.”

I got cups and poured coffee for both of us, ignoring his comment. When I felt his hands on my shoulders, I turned into his arms.

He held me pressed against his chest. “Carson, I know you're still in love with Daniel.”

I didn't deny his words. I couldn't. Daniel had called me every day. He'd offered to come and stay with me. He'd also been very angry that, once again, I'd put myself in danger. It was that very thing that had claimed our daughter's life.

Michael stroked my hair softly. “Until my divorce is complete, I'm not going to pressure you. After that, it's going to be an open playing field. I don't want to lose you twice, Carson.”

I closed my eyes and leaned against him. He was solid, a man who honored his word. “I can't make any promises about anything,” I whispered into his shoulder.

“I'm not asking for any promises.” He kissed the top of my head, then led me back to the kitchen chair, where he finished examining my neck. He looked at the incision. “The doc did a pretty good job. I have to say I'm a little better at stitching than he is. Looks like I can take those out in a few days, though.”

“You're going to take my stitches out?”

“That's another reason you need to keep me around. If you're going to continue with your career, you're going to be in harm's way. You need someone who can patch you up.”

I thought about what he was offering and the lack of censure in his voice. “No promises. Not now.”

He kissed the curve of my jaw. “We'll let nature take its course.”