Sweet Poison (31 page)

So why the secrecy?

C
orey had memorized the route Dean took home from school yesterday afternoon, after making sure he lost his police tail. That meant today he knew right where to park his motorcycle. It might be the only chance he got to talk to Dean alone, so it was crucial that he make it work.

As Dean came around the corner just after three, walking alone as he had yesterday, Corey was sitting cross-legged on the quiet neighborhood street, working on his cycle.

“Hey, Dean, remember me?” he said, smiling at the kid while he was still twenty feet away. “I was over at your house the other day.”

Dean didn’t say anything, just kept walking.

“Be a sport and help me out here, will you?” He handed Dean a wrench as he came past. The kid, not quite sure what to do, took it. “Hold that for me while I take this other wrench and tighten this.” He pointed. “You like motorcycles?”

“Yeah,” said Dean, looking around nonchalantly.

Corey read the stance as nervousness. “This one’s pretty old, but it goes really fast. It’s called a Moto Guzzi V 1000 G 5. It’s an Italian
bike. Hey, in fact, I’ve got some pictures of your mom and me on it. Wanna see?”

The kid shrugged.

Pulling a stack of snapshots out of his leather jacket, he handed one to Dean. “That was me and your mom at the state fair one year. I like cotton candy, but your mom hates it.”

“I like it, too,” mumbled Dean.

Corey handed him another shot. “That was taken at Lake Harriet. We’d gone there for a picnic.”

Dean seemed interested in the photos, so Corey kept handing them over. Pictures shot on a drive he and Serena had taken down the Wisconsin side of the Mississippi all the way to Lake Pepin, photos of the two of them at a motorcycle show, the zoo, a Gopher football game. At one point, Dean said, “Gee, she really looks happy.”

“She was,” said Corey. “We were in love.”

“Then how come you were shouting at each other?”

“Do you ever get mad at your mom? Have you ever shouted at her?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Does that mean you don’t love her?”

“I love her a lot.”

“Your mom and I love each other too, but sometimes we get mad.”

Dean scrunched up his face. “If mom loves you, why do we live with Johnny?”

“Do you like him?”

“No.” The word came out fast, full of vehemence. “He’s a jerk. And he’s mean to Mom. And to me sometimes.”

“Sit down here next to me,” said Corey, patting the grass. “I want to show you a couple other pictures.”

“I don’t know.” He looked around. “I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“But I’m not a stranger, am I? My name’s Corey, remember? Your mom introduced us. And I’ve got all these pictures of your mom and me.”

“Yeah, but … I really should get home. Mom will worry if I’m late.”

“Okay,” said Corey. “But first, look at this one last picture.” He held it up. “Who is that?”

Dean glanced at it, quickly looking away. “Me.”

“Is it? Look a little harder.”

He continued to stand well back but extended his neck. “Those aren’t my clothes.”

“No, they’re not.”

“But it looks like me.”

“You know who that is?”

Again, he shrugged.

“Me.”

The little boy seemed skeptical. “How can that be you when it looks like me?”

“It’s called a ‘family resemblance.’ You know what that means?”

“That you and me are family?”

“That’s right. Look at our hair. It’s the same exact color. I think that’s cool.”

Dean took a peek at the picture again. “How come we never met before?”

“I’ve been away. As a matter of fact, I didn’t even know you existed until a few days ago. But now that I do, I want us to be friends. Would that be okay with you?”

“I guess.”

“Look, I already talked to your mom. She says it’s okay if we spend some time together this afternoon. I’ll have you home before bedtime, promise. You like pizza?”

He nodded.

“Well, then, I thought maybe I’d take you to Chuck. E. Cheese for some pizza, then we could head out to Camp Snoopy at the Mall of America, do some of the rides.”

“It’s not called that anymore. It’s called the Park at MOA.”

“No more Camp Snoopy?”

“Nope.”

“But it still has rides and stuff.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Okay, then we’ll go to the Park at MOA. That sound fun? You can ride on my motorcycle, on the back behind me. I’ve got a helmet for you. You ever had a motorcycle helmet on before?”

“No. But my friend Terrance has one. It’s blue and black, kind of sparkly.”

“I bought this one especially for you.”

“You did?”

“What do you say, pal? Are we on for some fun?” He held up his hand.

Dean hesitated, but then slapped it with the flat of his hand. “You’re sure it’s okay with Mom?”

“Yeah, it’s fine and dandy. She works tonight, so you’d be spending most of the time with Johnny anyway. I figure you’d rather spend it with me.” Corey jumped up and took the helmet off the back of the bike. “Try it on.”

There was a perceptible gleam in Dean’s eyes when he handed the wrench and the photos back to Corey and accepted the helmet.

“See, it’s Velcro under here.” He made sure it fit snugly. Standing back, he grinned at him. “Very cool.” He stowed his tools in the back suitcase, then lifted Dean up on the rear seat, which was a little higher than the front. Perfect for an eight-year-old with a backpack. Lifting his leg across the front seat, he explained to Dean how to hold on to him.

“You ready?” he asked, starting the motor.

“Ready,” said Dean, holding on tight.

Feeling like he’d just been crowned king of the world, Corey glanced behind him, gunned the motor, and took off into the cold afternoon sunlight.

Jane and Kenzie spent the afternoon in the St. Croix River Valley, hiking the bluffs around Taylors Falls. It was such a gorgeous day that
neither one of them wanted to stay indoors. Jane rescheduled several meetings. Now that Kenzie was back, she was happy to blow off as many days as necessary to make sure Kenzie understood that she was a huge, important part of her life. They still had some potentially dangerous issues to work through, though for the moment, they were both consciously steering away from those topics. With the exception of Julia’s early morning visit, the day had felt like a honeymoon. Jane had never felt closer to Kenzie, more sure that they would be able to make a go of their life together.

On their return to town, Jane asked Kenzie if she would mind stopping at the campaign office for a few minutes. Kenzie, who was in a mellow, accommodating mood, said she’d be happy to. Jane called from the road and learned that Luke was still around, that he hadn’t been home since the computers had blown up last night. It didn’t seem like the actions of a man who was responsible for the computer meltdown in the first place, which made it all the more important to put some hard questions to him.

Inside the office, Kenzie drifted off to the phones. Jane found Luke seated at one of the computers, intently watching the screen.

“How’s it going?” asked Jane.

Luke glanced up at her. “If you want a simple answer, go talk to someone else.”

Ouch. “No, I’m really interested.”

Wiping a hand across his forehead, he said, “Most of the binaries on the server were replaced. For a while, I would delete the virus-ridden files only to see them reappear a few minutes later.”

“So it was a virus.”

“Yeah. What’s even more frustrating is that our computers started sending out tens of thousands of e-mails driving people to our Web site, which overloaded the server. Every time we brought it up, it was impossible to navigate. In the middle of the night, I had to shut off name service to the old address and set up a whole new box. And then we found some kind of date bug on the blog. It reset the dates, making posts and comments look like they were all written last
year. Some things are getting ironed out, but this has been one long haul and it’s not anywhere near fixed.”

“You must be tired.”

“Yeah, I must be.”

“Look, Luke, I need to talk to you.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now.”

“Maria Rios wants the system back up and running ASAP.”

“It will only take a couple of minutes.”

“Jesus H. Christ,” he said, pushing his chair back. “I guess what the daughter of Ray Lawless wants, the daughter of Ray Lawless gets.”

She wasn’t quite sure where all the attitude was coming from. Maybe it was stress, or maybe it was something else. She followed him into his office and shut the door.

“Okay, what’s so goddamn important?” He straightened some papers on his desk.

“I intend to keep this just between us, unless you give me a reason not to.”

“What?” He frowned, pushing his coffee cup to the center of his desk pad, then his stapler, his Mason jar filled with pens and pencils, and finally his electric pencil sharpener. He lined them up, making a little wall of office supplies between them.

“I have reason to believe that you were the one who created and sent the virus to the campaign’s computer system.”

He stared at her a moment, then burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s rich. Attack the guy who’s been here all night trying to help. Maybe I should just leave. Let you people flounder in your own ignorance.”

Jane sat down. “You know, Luke, you’ve never really seemed all that enthusiastic about my dad’s run for governor. Why is that?”

“Because I’m not.”

“Then why are you here?”

“He’s the best of a bad field. That’s the way politics works today. You pick the candidate you hate least.”

“You hate my father?”

“I sure as hell don’t love him.”

She had a difficult time not responding in kind. “You’re gay, right?”

“Who told you that?”

“Christopher Cornish is your partner. Why be so secretive about it?”

“Because it’s my goddamn right. You call it secretive, I call it privacy.”

“There’s no campaign in this country that would be more welcoming to a gay man than this one.”

“I’m not a one-issue voter.”

He seemed to have an answer for everything. “I met your partner the other day—at Charity’s funeral.”

He glanced down at the cold mug of coffee. “He’s a great guy.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“Just so you know,
he
is a one-issue voter. I don’t hold it against him.”

“You mean gay rights.”

“You’d expect that, wouldn’t you? Especially after what Keen did to him.”

None of this made any sense. “Tell me what my father’s done that’s so terrible.”

“Last I heard, this was a free country. You can’t just go around demanding information.”

Studying him, she saw something in his eyes she’d never seen before, something that unnerved her. “You really do hate my father.”

He didn’t respond.

“Enough to manufacture a virus?”

“Of course not.”

“We’re talking a serious offense here, Luke. The kind you go to prison for.”

“Sure, I could’ve done it. But I didn’t.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because,” he said, leaning forward, “you … have … no … proof. You can’t just run around slandering people. Even if you are Jane Lawless.”

“You hate me, too.” She was at a total loss. “I never even met you before last summer. How could I have hurt you?”

“You didn’t. Now, are we done?”

“Yes, we’re done.”

As he walked past her on his way to the door, he stopped. “You say anything to anyone about this crap theory of yours, and I’m out of here. And when I go, the first thing I’ll do is hire myself a sleazy lawyer like your father and sue you both for everything you’re worth.”

“I’ve got him,” said Corey, holding his cell phone to his ear. He was at the Mall of America, standing in the amusement park.

Serena couldn’t seem to stop screaming.

He waited until there was a lull, then said, “Have you called the cops?”

“No! I was frantic. I’ve called all Dean’s friends, talked to the parents. He’s come home late before, but never this late. I should have known.”

“Just listen. You wouldn’t let me take him to a movie, or a ball game, so what choice did I have?” Dean was about ten yards away from him, playing in the arcade, having a ball.

“Let me talk to him.”

“I can’t. He’s … busy.”

“I need to know he’s okay!”

“He’s fine, Serena. I wouldn’t hurt my own kid.”

“Bring him home.”

“I will.”

“Now!”

He knew she’d be upset, but he didn’t like all the demands. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“What deal?”

“You promise me you won’t call the cops, and I’ll bring him home … tomorrow.”

“No, I want him home tonight! Right now!”

“You don’t get to make all the rules anymore. I’m part of his life now, too.”

“Please, Corey. Don’t hurt him.”

“My God, what kind of man do you think I am?”

“I promise not to call the cops.”

“I’ve got your word on that?”

“Yes. I swear. When will you be here?”

“Tomorrow morning. No, let’s make it closer to noon.”

“Where will you go tonight?”