Picture Them Dead (21 page)

The dime finally dropped for Laney when Esme came in the door, pushing Claire Calvert's wheelchair. Laney's breathing went ragged and I could see the panic in her eyes, but she put up a good front. She greeted Claire like the old friends they'd been, and to Claire's credit, she was cordial in return, if a bit cool.

Claire was taken to the back and Esme settled in the chair opposite us to wait.

We sat in silence for a few long moments, then Laney spoke, her voice soft. “You know, Dee, you were lucky Marydale didn't let you hang out with us when Sherry was here. Be grateful she cared enough to look out for you. Don't get me wrong, I loved being with Sherry, I really did. She was absolutely her own person and she didn't care what others thought of her. I always cared way too much what other people thought of me.” She gave a rueful laugh. “Still do. But Marydale was right; she was a bad influence. She could talk you into doing things you knew you shouldn't do. Things you might come to regret.”

She was still twisting away at her bracelet and I thought back to the afternoon she'd found it in the seat of her car. There had been red mud stuck in the links. Had she dropped it? I replayed the scene in my head. No, she'd started to get into the car, then squealed and turned, with the bracelet in her hand, holding it up so we could see. How had it gotten muddy stuck down in the car seat?

I looked over and saw Esme studying Laney. It was a peculiar look.

Dee was pressing Laney about what she meant by regrets, but I was only half listening, since I already knew.

We waited for what seemed like hours but was really only twenty minutes or so. Suddenly the door from the back pushed open with some force and James Rowan strode into the lobby, his face pale and his mouth set in a horizontal slash. Laney got up to go to him, but he brushed past her. She grabbed onto his sleeve, but he jerked away and kept walking without a backward glance.

Laney chewed at her lip and I could see she was struggling to force back tears. “We'll talk later,” she said, her voice unsteady. “I'll explain everything. I was just a kid.”

I could see Jennifer talking to the desk officer and I wished she'd come get Laney and let her get this over with.

“But you weren't a kid last week,” Esme said, staring down at her hands. “Were you, Running Deer?”

Laney looked at Esme, her face contorting. “How did you—”

“Isn't that what she called you, your friend Sherry?” Esme asked.

“Yes,” Laney said uncertainly, “but how did you know that? Oh, let me guess, Gavin, or Bryan? So we had silly tribal names, so what? We were kids,” she said again. “Just kids.”

Esme kept talking, and I saw Jennifer coming up behind her. I tried to signal Esme that we weren't alone, but she seemed to be somewhere else. I couldn't reach her.

“Remember the promise you all made?” Esme asked. “It was kids' stuff, yes, but you meant it. You joined hands and chanted:
A pledge is a pledge and a promise is a promise. If either is broken, a curse be upon us
.”

“How did you . . .” Laney began, her lips trembling. “It was Gavin, wasn't it? I always knew he was the weak one. It was so long ago. We were children,” she wailed.

Esme continued as if she hadn't heard. “She called herself Walks by Night. I have a message from her; it's for you. She says she gave you a chance. She warned you that you could never hope for a good life unless you wiped the slate clean and atoned for the harm you'd caused. But you didn't give her a chance, did you? She's dead.”

Tears were streaking down Laney's face and dripping onto her lap. She didn't seem to notice. She squeezed her eyes shut and after a very pregnant pause she began to speak in a rasping whisper. “I didn't mean to hurt her. She wanted to go out to the spot down by the creek where we used to meet. Sacred ground, she called it. And she wanted to go at the time we used to meet back all those years ago. She roamed around for a while, then told me she was going to Claire Calvert to tell her about making the phone call. We argued. It was all well and good for her if she wanted to turn over a new leaf—she was a drug dealer, did you know that? She was running from some people in Miami, but she didn't tell me that when she asked if she could stay with me. She brought that danger into my home with no regard for my safety.”

All of us sat in stunned silence. Jennifer was standing totally still and I could see she was debating whether to interrupt, no doubt analyzing the legal ramifications of this impromptu confession.

“I love this town,” Laney went on. “I love the ­people, I love Claire,” she said, hiccupping a sob. “Sherry would be somewhere far away in another week. I'd still be here in Morningside. I tried to make her see it would ruin me, but she didn't care. She was going to tell Claire right that minute. The vigil people were just clearing out and Claire's lights were still on. I grabbed her and we fought. I didn't realize until later I'd lost my bracelet. She took off running and I ran after her. I didn't mean to hurt her; I only wanted to stop her. I had to stop her. She was the one who made the call, but I knew we'd all get the blame. We'd all promised we'd never tell and now she was going back on it. And what would it have helped, really, to have it come out now? James had already been criticized for talking Quentin Calvert into that plea bargain. He wouldn't want that in the news again. And I knew if he found out I had any part in what happened, no matter how small a part, it would be bad.” She looked up then, her eyes pleading. “And it is bad. It's very bad. You saw him.”

“But Laney,” Dee said, her voice catching, “you killed her?”

“I didn't mean to,” Laney said, sobbing now. “It was an accident. It was starting to rain and I was chasing her, trying to get her to listen to me. I grabbed at the back of her shirt and we both fell. She hit her head on something, I guess. It was an accident, a freak accident. I saw she was dead and I panicked. I just left her there.”

“Oh, Laney,” Dee said.

“It gets worse,” Laney said, folding her arms across her middle and rocking. “I should have called for help. She must not have been dead like I thought, because when she fell we were down in the middle of the field. The only thing I can figure is that she came to at some point and somehow made her way up to that grave before she died. If I'd called 9-1-1, she might still be alive. Her life is over, and now so is mine.”

*   *   *

I'd walked to the police station but I crawled into Esme's SUV for the trip home. I was emotionally spent. I felt sad and angry and betrayed, like the world's biggest sucker. How had I not seen this sooner? The business with the bracelet had bothered me, but I'd ignored it. And now I saw clearly that Laney's attempt to rekindle our old friendship had only been a ploy to get information about the investigation.

Esme drove in silence until we were in our driveway, then she switched off the motor and drew in a long breath.

“I've never had that happen before,” she said, sounding so tired she could hardly push the words out. “When I went over to Claire's this morning I decided to walk down to the creek just so I'd have a better picture of where those kids used to gather. Sherry came to me so clearly it nearly knocked me off my feet. I've never gotten any kind of message from someone so newly deceased, and I've never gotten anything that word-for-word precise. It scares me. I know I've complained in the past about how wishy-washy the messages can be, but I want that back now.”

“Maybe it was a one-shot deal,” I offered, “because you're so close to Claire or because Sherry Burton was so determined to clear the slate.”

Once we were in the house, Esme trudged straight up the stairs to rest and I wandered around, stewing. I wanted desperately to talk to Jack, but he was still at work. In the end the emotional exhaustion got me, too, and I fell asleep on the family room couch. When the doorbell woke me I looked out the window and saw the gold and magenta hues of twilight.

Denny was standing on the steps, a cone of flowers in his big hands. He held them out to me. “I know you and Esme had a hard day. We're supposed to have supper together tonight, but if she's too tired, I'll understand. She's not answering her phone.”

“I'll go check,” I said, shaking my head to clear the cobwebs.

Esme was in a chair, staring out the window at the sunset. She'd been crying, I could tell. “Give me a few minutes,” she said. “I'll come down.”

Denny rose when I came back into the family room and delivered her message. “I'm really sorry about how things turned out, Sophreena,” he said. “I know Laney's a friend.”

“What can you tell me?” I asked, knowing there were boundaries he wouldn't cross, not even with Esme and me.

“She's made a complete statement,” he said. “James Rowan recused himself from the case, which is the right thing to do, but probably for all the wrong reasons. Anyway, she'll probably be arraigned tomorrow or the next day and I expect she'll be released on high bond. Her folks have the money. As far as the charges, I can't tell you anything about that 'cause I don't know. It's a strange case.”

“With lots of loose ends, it seems to me,” I said, frowning.

Denny nodded. “All I can tell is we're working to sew it all up.”

Esme came in just then, and clearly they weren't going to supper, as she was in yoga pants, a cotton top, and bedroom slippers. Not a smidge of makeup. She stood, rubbing her hands together. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and drew in a shuddering breath.

“It's good you're both here,” she said. “I've got something to tell you,” she said.

Finally, I thought. She's finally going to tell Denny about the gift. But why did she want me here?

And then she dropped the bomb.

“I'm so sorry, Sophreena, but I'm leaving here. I've got to go,” she said, her voice catching.

I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach, leaving me breathless and stunned. “You can't,” I said, looking to Denny for help.

He was maddeningly calm. “Tell us why, Esme,” he said.

“It's time,” Esme said with a deep sigh. “Oh, Soph­reena, we always knew this was a temporary thing,” she said, stepping over to take me by the shoulders. I could see tears pooling in her eyes and her voice was so soft I could barely hear her. “It's time I moved on.”

“I didn't know it was temporary,” I protested, shrugging off her hands. “You never said ‘temporary' partner, Esme. You're just going to walk out on me? On our business? On our friendship? I trusted you more than I've trusted anybody since my parents died,” I said, anger now flaring up, “and now you're just going to leave? How could you do that? Just because you're scared to tell . . .” I caught myself just in time; I was still aware of the pledge I'd made to Denny. “Just because things aren't perfect doesn't give you the right to leave me in the lurch. We've got clients lined up. We've got obligations.”

Esme put her hand on her hip and gave me an eye roll. “Oh, for pity's sake, Sophreena, I'm not leaving the business, I'm just moving out of the house.”

“What?” I said, feeling my anger subside. “Moving? Where are you moving? An apartment?” I turned to Denny. “Is she moving in with you?”

“No, I am not, Sophreena!” Esme said. “I bought a house. Mrs. Etheleen's place. I need to be on my own and so do you,” she said. Then she turned to Denny. “I should have told you my plans, too,” she said. “But it was important to me to make this decision all on my own.” Turning back to Sophreena she said, “I've dreaded telling you. I know I've been cross these past weeks, but I guess I was heartsick over the idea of the separation. This is going to be a big change for us.”

“Well, kudos for the way you told me, Esme,” I said testily. “Now it's my turn to be cross. You scared me half to death, announcing you were leaving like that. And as far as change? Esme, I can see Etheleen Morganton's house from the front door, it's not like you'll be going to the moon.”

“That's right,” she said, “and the best part of all, I'll have a freestanding garage with a big old room over it. It would make a good family history resource center, at least until we can find a bigger space.”

“Well, that all sounds great,” Denny said, rising. “I don't believe I'm needed here. I'll be going along and let you two get things sorted out.”

“I'd like you to stay,” Esme said. “We need to talk. There are some things about me I haven't told you and I think it's high time I did. Sherry Burton was right about the need for a clean slate before you can move on to a better place in your life. Sophreena, give us some privacy?”

“I'd be delighted,” I said. As I passed Denny, I gave him a big grin. He smiled back, but I also saw a hint of trepidation in his eyes.

*   *   *

I arrived at Jack's condo twenty minutes earlier than we'd arranged and thought of letting myself in. I had a key from the many times I'd watered his plants and fed his fish when he was away. But with the change in our relationship, it suddenly seemed presumptuous.

It turned out to be irrelevant, since he pulled in about three minutes later, as I was carrying on the debate with myself. While he made me a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup I spilled everything that had happened. He listened, injecting “oh,” a “wow,” or an awed whistle once in a while.

“I feel really bad about Laney's situation, but really angry with her, too. And I still don't know how any of this ties in with Luke and me getting run off the road, or with Gavin finding Sherry's stuff in his trunk.”

“But you have faith in Denny. If he says they're working on it, then you'll get answers eventually, right?”

“Right,” I said with a sigh, taking the first bite of gooey goodness from my sandwich.