Dead Wrong (20 page)

“Chief Tanner?”

“The chief before me. I replaced him when he retired.”

“Is he still around?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. Lives out by the lake now.”

“Could you give me his number?”

“Phone number?”

“Yes.”

“Nope.”

“Excuse me?”

“Chief Tanner has no phone. Said for the last fifty years of his life, his life was ruled by the telephone, that it never rang when it wasn’t something he had to tend to, and now that he didn’t have to tend to it anymore, he didn’t want to hear a phone ring ever again. So he doesn’t have one. He loves company, loves to talk about the old days. But you want to talk to him, you’ll have to do it in person.”

“Well, then, I guess that’s what I’ll have to do.”

“If I happen to see him in town, I’ll let him know that you called.”

“Great. I appreciate that.” Aidan paused, then asked, “Chief Lanigan, are there any unsolved murders there in Lake Grove?”

“Unsolved murders? No, not out here. Lake Grove is a real small, quiet town. The last murder out here was maybe five, six years ago. Man killed his brother with a hunting rifle. Other than that, we’ve had a few domestics over the years. The last big murder case I recall hearing about happened a long time ago, twenty-five, thirty years maybe, but I don’t know the details. That was long before my time.”

“And it was solved?”

“Yes. I imagine Chief Tanner can fill you in on that one. He would have been on the force at the time, though probably not as chief back then. Now, you planning on maybe taking a trip out here?”

“I think so, yes.”

“What’s going on that the FBI is interested in?”

“Just following up on a loose end, that’s all. Thanks for your help, Chief.”

“Yeah, well, you want to see Tanner, you stop in here when you get to Lake Grove and I’ll give you directions. I’m in my office every day by nine.”

“Thanks, Chief. I’ll be sure to do that.”

Aidan hung up the phone and went to the refrigerator, hoping to find a cold beer.

“Well, the cupboard certainly is bare, isn’t it?” he muttered to himself as he moved several bottles of water out of the way in his search. Finding nothing hiding behind the bottles of Deer Park, he had to content himself with one of those.

“Just as well. Should drink more water anyway. Healthier.”

He took the bottle of water out onto the small balcony and sat on a folding chair. He rested his legs on the railing, crossing his feet at the ankles, and from there contemplated how he’d spend the next few days. A trip to Ohio where he’d sit and talk with an oldtime cop who may or may not know something about Curt Gibbons.

Judging by Gibbons’s date of birth on the statement he’d given Miranda, Aidan knew that, if alive, he would be in his late thirties. If Lake Grove was as small a town as Lanigan had said, wouldn’t the police know just about every family in town? Maybe Tanner could point Aidan to some of Gibbons’s family who might have remained in the area. It was well worth the effort, if for no other reason than to see what Gibbons was up to these days. Scratch that itch in the back of his mind.

Aidan went inside and grabbed the phone book. If he was going on a road trip, he’d be driving something other than Dylan’s Corvette. While beloved, the old Vette wasn’t the car to take on a long trip. He’d thought that even the drive to Lyndon might have been pushing it. It would be better off left in the garage here at home.

Maybe something with a great sound system, he thought as he scanned the names of the rental car agencies. Something fast and sleek.

Smiling, Aidan dialed the number. He was back in the game, albeit in a very limited capacity, and it felt great.

It was a start.

CHAPTER
ELEVEN

M
ARA STARTED DIALING THE NUMBER, THEN DISCON
nected, for the third time in a row.

She chided herself for her apparent lack of nerve.
This shouldn’t be difficult. He said call him if I needed him. Well, I need him.

He’ll say yes, or he’ll say no. And this time, it won’t be Annie asking. He can say no to me, if he has something better to do for the next week or so, or if he just doesn’t feel like it. He’d never say no to Annie.

And if he says yes, it won’t be because he feels obligated, as if it’s part of his penance. He doesn’t owe me a thing.

Her fingers dialed the number, and she walked away from the telephone base before she could hang up again.

“Hello?”

“Aidan? It’s Mara. Mara Douglas.”

“Hey, how are you?”

“I’m okay. You?”

“Good.”

Her pause was just a little too long.

“So what’s up, Mara?” he asked somewhat cautiously.

“Oh, well . . .” She was finding this a wee more difficult than she’d thought it would be.

“Out with it.”

She told him about Judge Styler’s death, the connection between her and the judge, Vince Giordano, the death of his ex-mother-in-law, and Mara’s visit from the local detectives.

“Doesn’t sound good,” he told her, his mind trying to fit those pieces together without benefit of having been involved in the investigation and without knowing any of the parties.

“Annie thinks I should take a vacation.”

“Not a bad idea, to leave town for a while. Anyplace in mind?”

“Well, actually, we have a cabin. Annie and I do. Our grandparents built it back in the fifties. It’s in the mountains here, in Pennsylvania. Up beyond Scranton.”

“I don’t think I know the area.”

“You’ve never heard of the Poconos?”

“Oh, wait. That’s the place with the heart-shaped bathtubs in the hotel rooms?”

Mara laughed. “Well, Annie did put in a hot tub a few years back, but I don’t recall that it was heart-shaped. But yes, the area is known as the honeymoon capital of the east. Or maybe it’s the world. Lots of what we used to call honeymoon hostelries.”

“You’re planning on going there?”

“I’m thinking about it, yes.”

“How isolated is this cabin?”

“The closest town is about two miles away. We’re off a main road, but there are a few other cabins in the area. The closest is at the end of our road.”

“Weapons?”

“What?”

“Are you taking any weapons?”

“I don’t own any.” She paused. “Though I think there are some old hunting rifles up there. My granddad was a collector as well as a sportsman. My dad, who was more of a scholar than a hunter, held on to them. As far as I know, Grampa’s old gun collection is still up there. Annie and I have talked about selling it but we’ve never gotten around to it.”

He walked out onto the balcony and watched a young gull circle overhead in a blue, blue sky. He was postponing the inevitable. He knew what he had to do, and like a good soldier, he’d do it. He just wished he’d gotten his trip to Ohio in first.

“What time can you be ready?”

“What?”

“I asked what time you can be ready. I’ll have to pick you up today, because I’ll be leaving for Ohio in about an hour. But you’re going to have to put off your trip for a few days.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You really don’t think I’d let you go off alone, do you?” He paused for a moment, then asked somewhat hopefully, “Unless someone’s going with you?”

“No. No, there’s no one else. Actually, I was calling to see if maybe you could . . . if you weren’t doing anything else this week, that is . . .”

“You’re not used to asking for help, are you?”

“No.” She exhaled. “No, I’m not. But I am asking now. If this would interfere with what you have to do, though . . .”

“As long as you don’t mind tagging along.”
Damn. Damn damn damn . . .

“No, no. Whatever you have to do.” She paused, not deaf to the hesitation in his voice. His plans—now that he actually
had
plans—hadn’t included her. “But, you know, maybe we’re overreacting. I’d probably be fine at the cabin for a few days. As far as I know, no one else even knows that we have it. So there’s no way for anyone—Giordano, if in fact he’s involved in all this, or anyone else—to find out about it.”

“This Giordano—you said he’s still in prison?”

“Yes, but apparently he could be released at any time.” She explained about the grounds for appeal. “I think the district attorney’s office is going to do everything they can to delay his release for as long as possible, but I don’t think they can keep him much longer without running into other legal problems.”

“And you’re sure—you are absolutely certain—that no one knows where this cabin is?”

“Positive.”

He mentally debated, weighing her arguments.

There was no way around it. He couldn’t take the chance. If something happened to her because he just hadn’t felt like taking her along on his trip to Ohio . . .

“Well, all of your rationalizations aside, there’s no way you’re going to go off into the mountains alone. And the fact is that I do have this assignment—”

“Assignment?” she asked, puzzled. Hadn’t he said he was no longer able to work?

“Craziest thing,” he told her, starting with the story of Miranda’s brush with Curt Gibbons six years ago, and leading to the fact that the Mary Douglas crime scenes had held a wisp of familiarity for both Aidan and Miranda.

“That’s amazing,” she said. “That you both had the same feeling, that your boss is willing to let you follow through.”

“Yeah.” He began to pull a few items from a dresser drawer and tossed them into his duffel bag.

“Congratulations. I’m really happy for you. But if you’re supposed to be working on something, I’ll just be in the way.”

“I’m just following up on some information. Your going with me isn’t going to compromise some big investigation.” He glanced at his watch. “Look, the day’s marching on here. Go pack a bag.”

“Aidan, if you don’t want to do this, I’ll understand. I swear I will. It’ll be okay.”

“Hey, I promised Annie that I’d stick until this was over. It obviously isn’t over. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Mara returned the phone to the base.

I promised Annie. . . .

She hung up the phone, feeling more than a little disappointed. Of course he still felt obligated.

He’d promised Annie.

It had taken Aidan longer than he’d estimated to go through the rental car process. He’d had to settle for a Ford Explorer instead of the sleek Lexus he’d asked for, and by the time he’d gotten through all the paperwork and on the road, he was running an hour behind. It was nearly three p.m. when he arrived at Mara’s house.

“I ran into a lot of traffic on I-95 around Wilmington,” he explained when she answered the door.

“It’s always a mess there.” She stepped aside to let him in. At the sound of Aidan’s voice, Spike had flown down the stairwell from his perch on the top step and had danced joyfully on Aidan’s behalf.

“I think he’s glad to see me.” Aidan leaned over to pat Spike on the head.

“I forgot to ask you if we could bring him along.”

“I don’t think he’ll be a problem. Does he need stuff—dog food and things?”

“Sure.” Mara lifted a canvas tote bag. “Food, treats, his pull rope, a tennis ball, his bowl, his little dog bed, and his blankey.”

“Spike has a blankey?”

“Can’t sleep without it.”

“Well, then, let’s get all this stuff out into the car.” Aidan grabbed her bag along with the one holding Spike’s essentials. “Annie knows where you’re going? Anyone else you need to tell?”

“I spoke with Annie after you and I chatted. She said . . .”

Mara hesitated long enough for Aidan to ask, “She said what?”

“That she owes you another one.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Aidan said very deliberately. “She doesn’t owe me a thing. This is between you and me.”