“People are gonna think we’re having an affair,” Robbie said, as he got into Jenny’s minivan, making the seat dip with his muscular bulk.
It was nearly seven o’clock, and the town parking garage was empty and echoing. Jenny had waited around until everyone left, because Robbie made a big deal about keeping their meeting secret. He’d shown up to the garage in plain clothes, in the family car instead of his cruiser, when he’d always come to her office before, in broad daylight and in uniform. She found it odd.
Jenny gave him side-eye in the dim light. “The spy stuff was your idea.”
“Kidding, kidding,” Robbie said, tapping her on the arm good-naturedly enough that she relaxed. “How’re the kids?”
“Good. T.J.’s excited for basketball. Reed’s got the robotics tournament next week. Yours?”
“Keeping us on our toes,” Robbie said. “Maddie’s running for seventh-grade president.”
“I heard. That’s wonderful. I told Val, I’m happy to help map out the campaign strategy.”
“Oh, that’ll be a load off her mind. Posters and speeches and stuff are not Val’s thing. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Jenny paused. “So you said you needed to talk in person, that what you had was too sensitive for the telephone. This is about Chief Rizzo, I assume?”
Robbie’s face took on a pained expression. “Sort of. It’s about the Rothenberg case more generally, but—yeah. All right. Let’s start with Rizzo. Jenny, I need to know. Are you making any progress in moving him out of the chief’s job?”
“Hard to say. Jake Goodwin getting hit by that TV truck has some folks on the town council questioning Rizzo’s priorities. But is it enough to get him voted out? Probably not without real proof of misconduct. Have you found anything we can use?” Jenny asked.
“It’s possible that Rizzo raided the overtime fund to pay for his outside-expert reports,” Robbie said.
“It’s possible, or he did?”
“I have a strong suspicion, but I can’t prove it yet. I don’t have the password to the accounts,” Robbie said.
“Who does?”
“Pam Grimaldi used to. Now it’s just Rizzo and his personal secretary, and she’s loyal to him.”
“Well, if we could prove Rizzo used overtime funds to pay for outside experts, and that’s why he didn’t have the money for traffic enforcement the day of Kate Eastman’s funeral, then yes, I could go to the council with that. People are upset enough about the impact on the soccer season that it could turn the tide. But if we can’t prove that? Do you have anything else?”
“I may be able to document problems with his handling of the Eastman case. Detective Charles came to me with concerns that Rizzo is suppressing evidence, just like that lawyer said in the press conference. Rizzo knew that it was Rothenberg’s own blood on the shirt, and he kept it quiet because it didn’t jibe with his theory of the case. He also knew based on phone records that the victim was having an affair with Dr. Saxman, but he did nothing about it.”
“A lot of people knew about that affair, Robbie. I knew, and I didn’t call the police.”
“You’re not the one trying to lock up the victim’s husband for murder and throw away the key, are you?”
“True,” Jenny said.
“Also, they got a call to the tip line days ago saying that evidence of the murder was hidden in Saxman’s car. Keisha wanted to get a warrant to follow up on that tip, and Rizzo’s been dragging his feet. She had to threaten to go over his head to you to get him to agree.”
“What evidence is in Ethan’s car?” Jenny asked, shocked.
“We don’t know yet. Because of the delay, they only got the warrant this afternoon.”
“Jesus,” Jenny whispered, going pale in the half-light.
Jenny had never believed that Griff would hurt Kate. But Ethan? That seemed more plausible given that the man was a known liar and cheat. How horrible for Aubrey if it was true, and for their children. And how dangerous for Jenny. Aubrey was unstable enough already. If things got worse for her, it was impossible to say how she might react, what she might say about Kate and their shared past, or to whom.
“If I was running the department,” Robbie said, “I would have searched that car the minute the tip came in, and maybe we’d have a different guy locked up by now. It’s dereliction of duty on Rizzo’s part if you ask me.”
“This case is such a minefield, Robbie. I don’t know what the answer is, but I’m not convinced that going after Dr. Saxman is a good idea, or even that it’s the right moment to get Rizzo fired.”
“Indecisiveness doesn’t suit you, Jenny,” Robbie said, an edge to his voice.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You need to make up your mind. I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’re leaving me no choice. Wait here, I have to show you something.”
Robbie got out and walked over to his own car, his footsteps echoing eerily in the empty garage. He came back carrying a bulky manila envelope, and placed it on the console between them. Something in his expression made her nervous.
“What’s in it?” Jenny asked.
“Open it and see,” he said.
Jenny turned on the task light. She opened the bulky envelope, reached in, and pulled out a second envelope, this one clear plastic, sealed with evidence tape. The label on it said that the item had been recovered by Officer Robert Womack at 9:30 P.M. the night before at a location described as “fence near bridge over Belle River, approx. 1 mi from River Road boat-launch parking lot.” Inside the plastic envelope was Tim’s favorite cap—the ratty, old Healy Construction cap that Jenny had been trying to get him to throw away for years. She turned the envelope over and examined the inside of the cap through the plastic to make sure. The initials “T.J.H.” were written on the label in faded permanent marker, right where she knew they would be.
“Why do you have Tim’s hat?”
“Because I found it, in a place it shouldn’t have been,” Robbie said.
“This says you found it at the bridge. Are you trying to imply something from this?” Jenny asked. She was beginning to feel nauseous, because the implication was clear.
“From the beginning I thought the victim probably went into the river from the bridge, not from the boat launch like Rizzo was saying. So I raised the idea with him, and he laughed me out of the room, which naturally pissed me off. I decided to prove him wrong. It was an ego thing on my part, frankly. Yesterday, on my own time, I went out to the bridge for a look-see. And I found Tim’s hat hooked on the fence, where you’d push it down to climb over. The ground had been disturbed there pretty recently.”
“I’m not sure where you’re going with this, Robbie,” Jenny said, though of course she knew, and it terrified her.
“When I first heard about this case—when I heard who the victim was, and how the body was found in the river—naturally I thought about Lucas Arsenault’s death and how the Arsenault family always blamed Kate. Look, Jen, I love Tim, and I can’t believe he would hurt anybody. I’m sure there’s some other explanation. But Tim had a motive. We both know he has anger-management issues. And this cap proves he was there recently. I’m not saying I think he did it. I’m just saying that somebody like Rizzo—who we know is capable of accusing someone on thin evidence, who has issues with you personally because he doesn’t like being told what to do—well, that’s not the guy you want in charge of the police department at a moment like this.”
“The fact that you found this cap at the bridge—if that’s even true—means nothing,” Jenny began, her voice shaking. “Tim could have been there for a million reasons. It was just Lucas’s birthday, and Tim is sentimental. He was probably there to throw flowers in the water or something. If you’re implying Tim had anything to do with Kate’s death—”
“No.”
“—then you can get out of my car right now.”
Robbie held up his hands. “Calm down. I said, I’m not implying that.”
“It sure sounds like you are. We both know you want the chief’s job, Robbie. And we both know this little stunt is intended to blackmail me into helping you get it.”
“Blackmail? Never. I’m trying to help out an old friend. And just so you know, I’m not making this up, Jenny. I have pictures of the cap stuck on the fence where I found it. I can show you on my phone.”
“Maybe you planted it there before you took the pictures. Maybe you didn’t. Either way, it means nothing. Tim has a defense a mile wide, and besides, he has an alibi for the time when Kate went missing.”
He did, since Jenny would say he was with her, even though that was not true.
“I’m sure he has an alibi,” Robbie said. “But the last thing you want is for Tim to be put in the position of getting arrested and having to defend himself. That would be a nightmare for you and your family. It would be much better if this piece of evidence never sees the light of day. And for that, yes, you need my help. You need me to go against procedure and suppress evidence, which is not something I take lightly. I’d consider doing it for the good of this town, but then I would need you to put the town first as well, and move against Rizzo even if the timing doesn’t seem convenient right now.”
They were at an impasse. Jenny couldn’t predict what Robbie would do if she said no. She had no choice but to give him what he wanted, or else he could make big trouble for Tim. But Jenny would make damn sure that she and her family were fully protected in return.
“I want to be clear where you stand, Rob. You agree that Tim had nothing to do with Kate Eastman’s death,” Jenny said.
“Of course. No argument with that.”
“All right,” Jenny said with a sigh. “Here’s what I propose. I will do everything in my power starting first thing tomorrow morning to get Owen Rizzo fired and make you chief of police. I won’t stop till I succeed, even if it means getting the college involved to pressure the town council. But I want a few things in return. I want that hat back right now. I want the pictures of it deleted from your phone. And I want us to agree that we stop this witch hunt pronto. Kate Eastman killed herself, period. Griff Rothenberg needs to be released. Unless they find a murder weapon in Ethan Saxman’s car, which I highly doubt, we should leave him out of this, too, and not risk another failed investigation. Kate’s death was a suicide. The sooner we can get the ME to rule it one, the better for this town, and for everyone involved.”
“Agreed.”
“Good. Now, hand me your phone so I can delete those pictures.”
Robbie took out his phone and scrolled through his photos. He handed the phone to Jenny, and her heart sank. The hat, stuck on the dilapidated fence, looked so natural, and so incriminating. She could imagine exactly how the wind took it off Tim’s head and deposited it there. Pictures could be doctored, yes, but these looked genuine, and with a sick feeling in her stomach, Jenny faced the possibility that her husband had murdered her old friend. She deleted the photos, and gave the phone back. Then she took the plastic evidence envelope with the hat inside, and shoved it into her handbag.
“I hope this unfortunate piece of business won’t impact our friendship,” Robbie said, “since I plan on us working together for many years to come.”
“I’ll get over it. I appreciate you coming to me first, so that we could work out a satisfactory arrangement.”
“Friends?” he asked, extending his hand.
“Friends,” she said, shaking it.
“Have a good night,” Robbie said, and got out of the minivan.
Jenny watched him walk back to his car and drive away. Once he was gone, she took the sealed plastic evidence envelope from her handbag and, using the sharp tip of a pen, ripped it open savagely. She held the cap to her face, and breathed in her husband’s scent. Jenny had known Tim Healy her whole life. She’d been married to him for sixteen years. She knew that Tim had never been the same after suffering a head injury on that awful night. He was unpredictable at times, even angry, but she never would have thought him capable of hurting Kate. Jenny knew Tim’s face better than she knew her own. She knew when he’d had a tough day at work, when he was sad, when a migraine was coming on (he’d suffered from them ever since that night), and when he was feeling especially in love with her or the kids. She knew what he did all day, whom he saw, where he went—or so she thought. But people could fool you pretty easily, even people you loved. All they had to do was lie, or choose not to tell the whole truth. Jenny should know. She’d lied to Tim for years about Lucas’s death, though maybe what she’d learned tonight was that she hadn’t gotten away with it.
It was nearly nine by the time she got home. The kids were upstairs getting ready for bed. A scrawled note on the kitchen table in Tim’s messy handwriting said “pizza in oven.” Suddenly she was starving. She grabbed the foil-covered packet out of the oven with her bare hand, and stood at the stove, wolfing down a slice, as Tim walked in.
“Hey, babe,” he said. “How’d your meeting go?”
Jenny wiped her mouth with a napkin. For the first time since last Friday, Tim sounded relaxed, normal, like his old self. Things between them were just beginning to feel right again. Jenny didn’t want to risk that, and yet she couldn’t ignore the terrible suspicion in her heart. She had to know.
“My meeting was … strange,” she said.
“Strange, how?”
She walked over to the table, and pulled his cap out of her handbag.
“Robbie Womack gave me this. He found it at the old railroad bridge, stuck on the fence where the No Trespassing sign is.”
Jenny collapsed into the chair as if she’d used her last ounce of energy showing him the hat. Tim came and sat down across from her. He picked it up and looked at it like the hat was a puzzle he was trying to solve.
“What did Robbie say?” Tim asked finally.
“That he wouldn’t tell anyone. That he understood the cap being there didn’t mean anything.”
Tim nodded. “That’s good.”
She took his hand and looked into his eyes. “What does it mean, Tim?”
He took a deep breath. “I’ve been working up my courage to tell you this, but it’s hard.”
“Go on.”
“Last week, I ran into Aubrey at Shecky’s.”
“Aubrey?”
He nodded. “It was Lucas’s birthday that day. Aubrey walked in, we got to talking, and at one point she asked if I knew the truth about Lucas’s death. And then she told me. She told me the thing you’ve been keeping from me for twenty-two years, Jen. That Kate killed him, deliberately.”
Jenny looked down at the table. Tears gathered in her eyes. “It’s true,” she whispered. “I lied. I guess you know that now. I’m so, so sorry, Tim. And I want us to talk about that. But first I have to ask. What happened after Aubrey told you this?”
“Aubrey said that she could get Kate to apologize. I should meet them at the parking lot near the old railroad bridge. I thought finally, after all these years, Kate’s coming clean.”
That goddamned Aubrey. This was all her doing. Aubrey had been looking to get back at Kate and Jenny both. A wave of pity for her poor husband swept over Jenny. Tim was no match for Aubrey, or for any one of the three of them. Tim was an innocent compared to them, a lamb among wolves. She should have protected him better.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jenny said. “I would have said not to go. Aubrey can’t be trusted. She set you up.”
“No, Aubrey’s the one who told me the truth,” Tim said. “The only one who did. And she tried to arrange for me to hear it from Kate directly. You know how much that meant to me? I didn’t tell you because she asked me not to, and because I didn’t trust you not to interfere. I didn’t trust you, Jen. My own wife.”
“I understand,” Jenny said. “And I deserve that. But in my defense, I was so young when this happened. They pressured me to lie. I should have told you the truth years ago, but I’d been lying for so long, I didn’t know how to stop. I was afraid of what it would do to our marriage. I wanted to protect you. Can you understand that?”
“I can try. You’re still my wife. I still love you. That hasn’t changed.”
Jenny nodded miserably, tears spilling from her eyes. “I love you, too. No matter what happened last Friday, I love you, Tim.”
And she did. She loved the things about him that any woman would love in a man. That he was strong and handsome. That he was a good father, and could fix anything—the house, their cars, her phone when it broke. That his eyes lit up when she walked into a room. That he’d been there for her when her father died. That he grilled a mean steak and did the dishes. All of it.
“I didn’t want it to happen,” Tim said. “I went to the parking lot like Aubrey said, and—”
“Stop,” she said, and put her fingers to Tim’s lips. “It’s better if I don’t know the details.”
“Let me talk. I don’t want secrets between us anymore.”
“All right, I understand. If that’s how you feel, go ahead.”
“Aubrey told me to park off the road, where nobody could see my truck, and to get into her car to wait for Kate. That seemed strange to me. I probably should’ve known then that something was fishy, but I was so focused on what Kate would say. When she showed up, she was shocked to see me. She thought she was meeting Aubrey alone, but Aubrey drove off and left us together. Kate didn’t want to talk. I kept pushing her toward the bridge because I wanted to confront her about Lucas. I was desperate to get the truth, and I got carried away, Jenny. I said things to Kate, terrible things. I made her jump,” he said, tears streaming down his face.
“Kate jumped?”
“Yes, of course. I would never—did you think I pushed her?”
“No, of course I didn’t think that,” Jenny assured him, but inside, she was deeply relieved, because she hadn’t been sure.
“So you told her to jump, and she just did it?” she asked.
“I told her I knew that she pushed Lucas off the bridge. She tried to make excuses, like she just got carried away. I wasn’t having that. I told her she was despicable, and a coward for not taking responsibility for her actions. Jenny, I said she deserved to die, and she should jump and do everybody a favor.”
“And then she did?”
“Not right that second. She was standing there staring at the water, and I walked away. But obviously she listened in the end.”
“So you didn’t see her jump?”
“No, but obviously she did it. It was my fault. If you’d been there, you’d understand. I talked her into it.”
“Tim, Kate’s been suicidal ever since I’ve known her. Her life was a mess. Divorce, an affair, she was broke. This wasn’t about you. It wasn’t even about Lucas. Kate killed herself for other reasons.”
“I read in the paper that she was pregnant. I never knew that. It’s eating me up inside.”
“How would you know? You couldn’t have known, babe.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“But it wasn’t your fault,” Jenny insisted. “You didn’t push her off the bridge. You didn’t even see her jump. You left her there alive. What she chose to do after that was her own decision. She could have stood there for another hour thinking about all sorts of things. For all we know, she could’ve fallen in by accident. You have to stop being so hard on yourself.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
He collapsed into her arms, and she held him, stroking his hair. They cried together for a while. Jenny cried for Kate, her dazzling friend, whose flaws were fatal in the end. But most of all she cried for Tim, her husband, whose act of bravery as a young man had left him damaged. Whether he caused Kate’s death or not, he would carry the guilt forever.
Jenny looked around her kitchen, that she loved so much, and into the den, where Tim had made a fire in the fireplace, as he often did on cold nights. Such a cozy scene, smelling of woodsmoke and pizza and home, with the sound of the kids’ footsteps on the ceiling above. Neither Jenny nor Tim could bring Kate back. There was no reason to tear down the life they’d built together because of guilt for something that wasn’t even clearly Tim’s fault. They had too much to lose, and nothing to gain. The best thing was to clean up the loose ends, and move on.
Jenny grabbed the cap, and walked over to the fireplace in the next room, where the embers burned low and red-hot. She moved the fireplace screen aside and laid the hat on top, jabbing it with the iron poker until it caught and flared up. Tim came to stand beside her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you loved that cap.”
He put his arm around her and held her tightly as they watched it burn. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “What matters is us. This family.”
When the hat was reduced to ashes, Tim carefully replaced the fireplace screen so embers wouldn’t singe the carpet. Jenny took his hand, and they walked up the stairs together to tell the kids it was time for bed.