Authors: Polly Iyer
“You’re wrong, Mr. Wright.” Minette chuckled. “Wrong, Wright. Bet you’ve heard that a few times.”
“Like my boss says, Mr. Wright is right almost one hundred percent of the time.”
“Well, you’re wrong this time. Rayanne Johnson and Reece Daughtry were lovers, and I have Lurena Howe’s affidavit as proof.”
“Everyone around here knows that Reece and your ex-wife are lovers. How many men besides you would leave a woman like Dana? Certainly not
Daughtry
.”
Minette was out of his chair. “I didn’t leave her. She left me after she had an affair with a dyke. How many men would have kept her? Tell me that, Mr. Always Right. I did. For years after.”
So that’s what happened? Knowing Robert Minette, there was more to the story
.
“And when Daughtry’s caught, my
ex
-wife is going to jail right along with him. I’ll see to it. Now, you can take your accusations and get the hell out of my office. I should arrest you.”
Clarence made sure he smiled. “For what?”
Minette, clearly flustered, said, “I’ll think of something. Defamation of character.”
“It’s only defamation if you prove I’m wrong. I’m not.”
“Get out.”
“I’m going, but I think I’ll leave my accusations here, where they belong. No doubt we’ll be seeing each other again. And tell Mr. Klugh I’ll be looking forward to seeing him too.”
Clarence had done what he intended. He’d better warn Payton that he pissed off Minette big time. Nothing like stirring up a hornet’s nest. He sauntered to the door and turned. “Have a nice day.”
“Fuck you, Wright.”
“What language from an elected official. Shocking. Do your constituents know you have a foul mouth?” Clarence left, closing the door silently behind him. The red-faced secretary refused to look in his direction. Thin walls in the district attorney’s office. When Clarence got to his car, he called Payton. “I think you’ll be hearing from Minette.”
“Madge told me he’s on the other line. I assume you riled him, and now he’s after my ass.”
“I didn’t do anything to suggest you knew about my visit, but he’s pissed. I mentioned Klugh. He cleverly acknowledged him. Said Klugh’s been here twice this week on business.”
“I guess since you started this, I’d better follow through. Knowing Minette, he’ll be on the phone to Klugh as soon as he hangs up from me. I wonder if he has another hit man on his payroll.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. Now you watch your back, ya hear?”
“Thanks for all this, Wright.”
“You can handle it.”
“Yes, I can, but I like to have the facts before I go off half-cocked.”
“My man can’t wait. Every police force in the eastern United States is looking for him. We gotta shake things up.”
“So you leave me with a mess and off you go. Where to?”
“Catching a flight home. Then I’m going to find me a killer, if Reece doesn’t get him first. You can have him when we’re finished, along with the one you’ll bag down here.”
New England
R
eece had been driving an hour, trying hard not to think about the danger he’d put Dana in. Every last shred of common sense had told him not to bring her with him, yet the thought of leaving her behind seemed incomprehensible at the time. Frank would keep her safe. If the authorities found her, Reece would swear he forced her to be his hostage.
Was his life preordained to be an almost life, where he reached a point of
almost
achieving or
almost
attaining those things he’d worked so hard for, only to lose them in the final stretch? Still, no matter what a mess the third phase of his life was at this moment, he selfishly blessed the fact that Dana was in it.
Forcing her from his mind, he took note of the things that mattered. The gas gauge registered full, the road atlas Frank mentioned sat on the passenger seat, phone numbers scrawled on the inside cover. It had been a long time since he’d been home—he stopped at the word. Portland wasn’t his home any more. He grew up there, but his heart belonged elsewhere.
He brushed off the bitterness that surfaced whenever he thought of Thom Daughtry. He’d seen Carl, spoken to him often, but even thinking of his brother reminded him of another life, one that ceased to exist when he went to prison. Reece would visit for one thing only. To clear himself of a murder that would otherwise haunt him for his remaining days. Now that he could see what might lie ahead, he wanted more than physical freedom. He wanted to be free.
A steely determination drove him, coupled with a sense of dread at what waited after the two-hour drive up the northern coast of Massachusetts through a slice of New Hampshire to Portland.
Had his father died?
If he hadn’t, would Reece find the nerve to face his demons? He knew the stuff he was made of. Prison cut away all the extraneous delusions he’d fostered about himself and left a core truth. In that black and white world, you either survived or you didn’t. Freedom was turning out to be far more dangerous.
No doubt the Portland police would be waiting for their prodigal son’s return. He needed to talk to Carl face-to-face, but not where the police would expect him. That eliminated the family estate and
Daughtry
Custom Homes.
He’d call Carl rather than make an unannounced appearance. His brother wouldn’t turn him in. Or maybe he would. Who knew anyone’s motivations? Everyone had a dark side. In his youth, Reece never thought people were inherently evil, but prison taught him how wrong he’d been.
He pulled into a rest stop near Portsmouth and called the business, hoping the police weren’t monitoring Carl’s calls. When he heard his brother’s voice he almost slammed down the receiver. It took him a moment to gather his courage to speak. “Carl?”
“Reece. Where are you?”
“Near Portland. Is it safe?”
“Probably not. A cruiser checks the house occasionally. Here too, I think.”
“Are your phones tapped?”
“No, I don’t think so. No one asked permission.”
Reece snickered to himself. How naïve. Like the police tracking a suspected murderer would ask permission to tap a phone. “Where is it safe?”
“I thought I might hear from you. There’s a dog park where the old landfill used to be near the intersection of Ocean and Presumpscot. Can you be there in an hour?”
“Make sure you’re not followed.” Reece returned to the car for the last leg of the journey. He hadn’t seen Carl in a couple of years. A chasm had grown between them, and it made him sad. They had been close before that night. Brothers in every sense of the word.
It wasn’t Carl’s fault. He was waiting at the prison to celebrate Reece’s release six years ago and vowed to be there if ever Reece needed him. But Reece couldn’t admit needing anyone. Later, when he let go of the anger that had kept him alive, he analyzed why he’d turned on Carl. Envy—one of the seven deadly sins. Carl was living Reece’s life and he was jealous and ashamed.
He found the park easily. Some things retain a place in your memory, like the city where you spent the first eighteen years of your life. He arrived early and parked the Civic. Fencing enclosed the multi-acre dog park—good for dogs, not so good for someone needing a quick exit. Well, he was there. No turning back now. The park’s bridges and trails, woods and hills, made Reece wish he had his dogs. But his large property offered the animals plenty of room to roam before hitting an electronic fence. He walked around to get a feel for the place, found a bench and sat down to wait. Five minutes later, his brother arrived.
Carl looked different than the last time Reece had seen him. Heavier, hair a little thinner, age showing more in the set of his jaw. He looked like their father.
“Hello, Reece.”
“Carl.” The moment might have been one of the most awkward in a life full of awkward moments. He couldn’t read his brother’s expression, and he had no idea what showed on his own face.
“You look good,” Carl said. “Different somehow.”
“Must be because I’m not wearing prison clothes.”
Carl looked away, chewed his bottom lip. “Don’t.”
Reece didn’t want to start that way. The sarcasm slipped out unintentionally. He wanted to apologize, but he didn’t. “I take it you checked to see if you were followed.”
“I wasn’t. I doubled around the block a few times from the business. They’re not watching me that closely. The police warned me to report to them if you contacted me. I said I would.” He looked at Reece. “Of course I won’t.”
Reece wondered if that were true, then thought sadly how cynical he’d become. “I need your help. I want to talk about the guys with us the night of Karen’s murder.”
Carl rolled his eyes, released an exasperated puff of air. “We’ve gone over this a hundred times. What more can I tell you?”
“Were you sleeping with her too, Carl? You can tell me that.”
Carl’s gaze shifted, his jaw muscles tensed. “What difference could it possibly make now?”
“Were you?” Reece waited. The anxiety on Carl’s face broadcast the answer before he spoke the word.
“Yes.”
Reece had expected the reply, but he still wasn’t prepared for the internal jolt. He turned away. “Why didn’t you tell me what everyone must have known but me?”
Carl shook his head. “No one knew. I didn’t know about the others until earlier that day. Karen juggled all of us. I didn’t want you to know about me. I was ashamed. Still am.”
“Yeah, now, confronting me. But you didn’t have any problem screwing your brother’s girlfriend back then, did you?”
A dog ran past them, the owner jogging behind. “I’ve asked myself that for twenty-one years. But when I found out about her, I convinced myself I was protecting you by not exposing her. I had hoped you’d see for yourself. You were so oblivious, so trusting. But the answer is much more complicated and selfish. I didn’t want Marcy to know I screwed around because she’d never marry me if she found out. I loved her and didn’t want to hurt her. Turns out I’m not very good at holy matrimony, even without cheating.”
Reece thought he was prepared, but he was surprised how much Carl’s confession hurt. “I would have told you.”
Carl nodded. “Yes, you would have. Because you’re an honest man. You always were. I could only aspire to be as good. I tried to tell people, but they wanted a murderer, and you were their best prospect.”
A vise clamped tight inside Reece’s chest. Some part of him wanted to hug his baby brother, take him in his arms and tell him things would be all right. That he forgave him his silence when it mattered to speak up, if not in court, then at least to tell him what kind of woman shared his bed. Carl had suffered in a different way, but Reece wasn’t at the place where he could open his heart. Maybe after all this was over he’d find the strength, but now, absolution eluded him.
“How many others were fucking her besides those at our table that night?” Reece took out his notebook. He thought he’d never forget the names, but he had a mental block when it came to the trial. He remembered only the impotence that consumed him as he watched his life flush down the toilet. “Mark Cabrini and Steve Yarrow, plus the other guy—” he glanced at the notebook again—Jordan Kraus. The one with an alibi—some girl who said they were together.”
“He was a friend of Steve’s from Tufts.” Carl finger-combed his hair. “Jesus, Reece. Your attorney went over all this before the trial, during the trial, and after the trial. There was nothing there. The girl swore on an affidavit she was with Jordan until three a.m., long after the murder took place.” Carl’s eyes glistened in the sun. “I can’t see any of them killing her.”
“What about me? Can you see me slitting Karen’s throat? Can you see me doing it again to that poor girl in North Carolina?”
Carl raised his voice for the first time. “No. Not then, not now, and I testified to that.”
A couple walking two dogs glanced their way. They hurried along.
Reece turned away and waited for them to pass. “Well, I’m betting my life that someone with us killed her.” He drew a deep breath and forced himself calm. “Did you?”
“How can you ask that?”
“It was easy. Did you?”
“No.”
Carl stared at him.
If he had, why would he tell the truth now? “I knew Cabrini but only met Yarrow a couple of times at the apartment. He brought the other guy, Kraus, once, right?”
Carl nodded and slunk back onto the bench. “I don’t know anything more. I told the truth at the trial except—”
“Except what you failed to mention.” Carl looked miserable, and Reece felt a flicker of guilt for being so hard on him.
“How much would it have mattered?” Carl asked. “You never denied you slept with her that day. What difference would it have made other than to give the prosecution more of a motive? Jealous rage, that was what they would have said. Your lover slept with your brother. Isn’t that enough to make anyone crazy? It’s what they said anyway, without knowing.”
Reece stood and circled the area. “Hurt, angry, yes, but jealousy was never my style.” How could he say that? Not five minutes before he admitted to being jealous of his brother’s life. The life he should have had. “All I know is someone’s trying to frame me again, and the investigator working for Jeraldine thinks it’s the same guy who killed Karen. I need to know where those guys are now.”