Raising her hand to knock on the faded wooden door, Chloe dropped it to her side and turned to go down the concrete steps she’d only seconds before climbed. She rethought her actions, and faced the door again.
Whoever said that police work wasn’t for the faint of heart had hit that button straight on. It was strange enough to knock on anyone’s door and ask about a fifteen-year-old case. Let’s throw in that the home belonged to Manny’s ex brother-in-law. Oh, and just for the hell of it, let’s make Manny’s new wife the cop knocking on the door.
“I should sell this to Hollywood,” she whispered. “Ya just can’t make this stuff up, don’t ya know.”
Shrugging, she exhaled, and rapped on the door. The worst thing that could happen is he would shut the door in her face and she would have to get a warrant. Or maybe she would have to shoot him.
Somehow, the latter option seemed more plausible. She wasn’t sure she wouldn’t feel the same way.
After fifteen seconds, the door swung open, and an overweight, thirty-something woman with short, dark hair and matching tattoos on either side of her neck, reading JOE in script, stood in the doorway. Her smile disappeared in a New York minute when she recognized Chloe.
“What the hell are you doing here, Chloe?” asked Linda Belle, her voice as cold as a Michigan winter’s day.
As bad as that was, Chloe thought it could have been worse.
“I’m here to talk with Joe, if he has a minute.”
Linda sighed, a hint of sadness, or maybe anger, in her dark eyes.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Chloe.”
“I understand. But I have to ask him some questions about Alan Gordon.”
“Alan Gordon? The friend of his who was murdered?”
“Yes.”
“Why does the FBI want to talk with him about that?” her voice became more guarded and she moved back a step.
“I’m not FBI any more. I work for the Lansing Police Department now. Gavin gave me this case to get my feet wet and to see if anything was missed.”
Chloe remained patient. She knew how tricky this might be. The more comfortable Joe became with her, the better this might go. Linda could be a key to that.
Linda hesitated, shook her head, then answered. “That’s good for you and maybe for Alan. The thing is that Joe is out of town. His job takes him on the road every once in a while. He’ll be back in a few days.”
The ice was still there, but melting.
“I see, where is he?”
“I’m not sure. He’ll call tonight, but he’s been out west for three days.”
“What does he do?”
“I’ll let him tell you that, if he wants to.”
The ice was returning.
Don’t push too hard, girl.
Handing Linda her card, she gave Joe’s wife her best Irish smile.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d have Joe call. I realize that I’m not number one on his list of people he cares for, but I’d like to see what he remembers about that night.”
Linda shifted her feet and bit her lip. Her nerves were getting the best of her and it made Chloe curious. Was it Manny’s new wife standing on her stoop or something else?
“The cops already talked to him, I think three times, because he owned a motorcycle and whoever killed Alan might have ridden one away from the park. That’s why you want to talk to him, right?”
“That’s true. But there is a problem with a few of the cold case files being misplaced. Joe’s interviews are part of those missing files. And yes, that’s why I want to talk to him. Besides, he may remember something else.”
“Maybe.”
Linda’s eyes were giving her away. Chloe played a hunch.
“Did you know Alan Gordon, Linda?”
At first, she did nothing, then she lowered her gaze, nodding her head ever so slightly.
“I did. Hell, who didn’t? He was a funny guy, great looking, and smart as whip. Most of the girls thought he was hot, and he had great friends. If there was such a thing as a cool clique in high school, Alan was right in the middle of it.”
“Like Joe?” asked Chloe.
“Yeah, Joe and Alan were tight. They were part of a group of five or six guys who hung out together. Mike Crosby was part of that group, and you probably heard that those guys used to hang out at the Crosby’s all of the time.”
“Gavin told me that. Kind of like a second home.”
She nodded again. “I started dating Joe a few weeks before Alan was killed. Back then I was quite a few pounds lighter and was pretty hot myself. I’d dated around, but one day I looked at Joe and it was like I’d never seen him in that way before. I think we were truly in love in just a few days. It seemed like that anyway. I was even a little jealous when Joe would hang out with his boys and leave me out of the picture, but I got it. It was almost cool to see those guys watch each other’s back, you know?”
“Tight mates then? All of them?”
“They were. The boys in that group were totally devastated when they found out about Alan.”
Her voice cracked, then she recovered.
“Joe still has nightmares every once in a while. I guess it’s one of those things that scars you for the rest of your life.”
“I can see that. How about you, Linda? How did Alan’s death affect you?”
Chloe suspected she knew that answer.
“Me? I-I . . .”
Her face grew soft, then hard. Real hard. “You know, I’ll give your card to Joe.”
Linda’s action indicated she was either scared or knew something. Chloe gave it another shot, realizing she had nothing to lose.
“Can I ask you one more question?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“If I can ask you one afterwards.”
“I can do that.”
“Okay, then fire away,” said Linda.
Moving a step closer, she scanned Linda’s face. “Did you know of anyone who would have wanted to hurt Alan?”
Linda looked at her feet and then shook her head. “No. Everyone liked him, like I said.”
Her voice said one thing, her body language another. Or maybe she was still nervous talking to Manny’s new wife. Either way, Chloe was going to ask that question again in the very near future. She had to be sure nerves were the reason Linda had acted like she had.
“My turn.”
“Ask away.”
“Were you and Manny an item before Louise was killed?”
It was Chloe’s turn to hesitate and capture some threatened composure. She hadn’t expected that question. Yet, if she’d thought about it, the question was probably on more than one person’s mind.
“No, Linda. Not a chance. He . . . well, he’s Manny. He loved Louise and would never have been part of something like that. The Boy Scout thing is real for him.”
Linda tilted her head. “But you were attracted to him, right?”
“I was. It was difficult, for me, not to be. But my mom raised me right. Still, the temptation was strong.”
Letting out a breath, Chloe hoped her honesty would satisfy Linda on some level because she wanted to ask her another question. Not to mention, a little confession is always good for the soul.
“Thanks for telling the truth, and I think you are.”
“You’re welcome. I just have one more thing, okay?”
“Sure, I guess.”
“You understand what I was going through, right, Linda? You loved Joe, but you were attracted to someone else in that group of cool boys, weren’t you?”
Joe’s wife took two steps back, her eyes growing wide. Chloe must have hit the jackpot because Linda’s surprise was indisputable.
So was the sharp slam of the door.
*****
It was time, wasn’t it?
Gavin Crosby looked at the small red circles Chloe had drawn as she’d gone over each page of the files that had been in her possession regarding Alan Gordon’s murder. He ran his finger slowly over them. The woman had been precise. Each word, each statement, each picture, each line item she’d deemed important to reconsider had been right on, in his eyes. He’d been right to give her the file. That, in turn, had given him courage.
Funny word, courage. The dictionary gave it a one-word definition: bravery. He’d been far from that, hadn’t he? He’d endured Lexy’s death and Mike’s reaction and almost-complete melt down. He could’ve been more supportive of his son, but he had his own grief to deal with.
Then Stella’s murder had left him alone because of that damned Justice Club shit. He’d known something was up with her. Ignoring the signs seemed like a good idea at the time. He kept telling himself she’d come around. He should have gotten her some help. That would have been the brave thing to do.
Chicken shit.
Over the years, after Alan’s murder, he’d done his best to make sure the boys, especially Joe, had gotten the attention they needed. Seeing their friend like that was a hell no one should have to visit, particularly high schoolers.
At first, he thought the kids had done well, maybe even better than expected. The kids in Alan’s school had graduated and most moved on to college and then families. Wasn’t that all anyone could ask for? A normal life?
Gavin closed the file, rubbed his face with both hands, then stared at this palms.
There had always been something wrong with Joe’s interviews. They’d been basically the same answers, except they hadn’t been. A word here, a darting eye there, a request for a pop or a glass of water when the intensity of the questions had increased. The truth was, and still remained, that there was something wrong with Joe Belle’s answers to what had happened to Alan Gordon. Gavin should have dug harder, but he was sure he would’ve hated the answers.
Wasn’t one death, one ruined life, enough?
Courage.
Bravery.
He’d not held those ideals close to his heart during that investigation. That would have cost him something and it hadn’t been a price he was willing to pay.
“We all pay eventually,” he whispered.
Gavin had watched Joe over the years, knowing firsthand what a killer with that kind of rage could develop into, given the right, or wrong, circumstances. Thank God, that hadn’t happened. And Gavin had been grateful for that, for reasons most people couldn’t imagine.
Until now, that is.
Hitting the intercom button, he told his secretary that he was leaving for the day. He then made another call, pulled out his credit card, paid the charges, and hung up.
Turning the piece of plastic over in his hand, he couldn’t ignore the irony.
It was time to pay the other charges, and he prayed it wouldn’t cost more than he could afford.
He knew it would be costly. There were always hidden costs, weren’t there? The trick was to be able to face them or walk away.
This time, there would be no walking away.