THIRTY-SIX

RYAN HEARD THE DOOR TO THE MORGUE OPEN AND KNEW WHO WAS ENTERING THE SPACE JUST BY LISTENING TO THE FOOTSTEPS. He didn’t wait for him to speak. He was still somewhat hoping he was wrong. He would know soon enough.

“You killed them all, didn’t you?” asked Ryan. It was more of statement than a question. “I just don’t understand why,” he stammered. “You didn’t even know these people.”

Ryan was confused but continued stumbling for the words to express how stunned he was to learn that his closest friend for years—who was also the sheriff of his home community—could commit such heinous acts of violence against seemingly innocent people. “Stop staring at me and explain this to me,” he said. “Why…? Are you planning to kill me too?”

Slowly shaking his head no, Mac said, “Ryan, you’re a good friend and a good man. And for those reasons, I’ll answer your questions. To answer your last question first, believe it or not, I have no intention of killing you. Now for the first question, I may not have known all of them on a personal basis, but I did know of them, and all of them are intricately related to each other.”

He waited for a response, and seeing nothing more than stunned disbelief on Ryan’s face, he continued with his story. “Before I became Mac, and long before I ever moved here, my name was Seth Richards. Dr. Rivers’s first wife, Rachel, was my closest friend growing up, and eventually we became lovers, but that was after she married Brad and after she had the boys. She eventually became pregnant with Stephanie and Elizabeth… my children… my daughters. Whom he killed. He didn’t just kill one person, Ryan. He killed Rachel and his sons; he killed his second wife, Beverly, and her kids; and of course… Stephanie and Elizabeth. Are you keeping count? I have. He killed eight people, at least eight people, that I know of.”

“Why didn’t Rachel just get a divorce? You two could have gotten married and raised your children. Hell, she could have gotten a decent settlement and possibly custody of her sons.”

“Maybe, but I wasn’t calling myself Seth. I changed my name after college. You forget that I was a police officer in Boston long before I accepted this job. Dr. Rivers has—or had—enough money to discover not only who I really am but also Rachel’s secrets. That discovery would have cost her the children.”

Seth removed his gun from his holster and motioned for Ryan to stand up. “Grab your coat, a blanket, and anything else you may need to stay warm and, most importantly, alive.”

Ryan was even more confused. “You really aren’t going to kill me? How are you going to ensure I don’t talk to anyone or call the state police? Look, buddy, we have been friends for a long time, but you know me, I can’t keep quiet about this. There are too many dead bodies, too many questions, and the bottom line is… I just can’t stay quiet.”

Seth was still pointing the gun at him. “I know, but I also know I am not going to kill a good man, much less a good friend, even if that means risking exposure. Besides, Ryan, you aren’t going to be found for at least twelve hours, and that’s all the time I need to finish. After I am done, I don’t really care what happens to me.” He tossed Ryan’s coat to him. “Put the coat on, and get a couple of blankets off the gurneys. I don’t want you to freeze to death or lose a finger.” He smiled lightly.

Ryan backed up to the gurney and grabbed the blankets that were lying on top. “OK, uh, Mac… or Seth, is it? I understand why you killed the doctor, but I don’t understand the rest. Why the police detective? And how did you get the body to the beach without anyone seeing you? Oh, and how on earth did you know the lawyer would find him?”

“To be honest, the lawyer finding him was purely a coincidence. A perfect coincidence. I couldn’t have planned it better, but it was, nonetheless, a coincidence. As for the rest, you forget who I am and where I used to work. I am the sheriff. Who do you think closed the beach that day? I closed the beach. Detective Connard was a colleague of mine back in the day. I think we went to the academy together. Not that it matters,” Seth absently added. “I invited him to interview for a job. Of course, the job didn’t exist. Before you ask, there is no record of my invitation. I arranged an accidental run-in with him in Boston a few weeks before he came out here for the interview. Our conversation was completely verbal, and I insisted he tell no one under the guise that the job wasn’t posted, it was his if he wanted it, and all he had to do was keep his mouth shut. Which he did. He was easy to kill. And by the way, good job on discovering ‘death by burking.’ I wasn’t expecting you to figure that out so fast. After he was dead, I lubed him up in motor oil and stuffed him in the wet suit. I had the body in my truck when I closed the beach. It was just a matter of dumping him.”

“But why him? How does he fit?” Ryan kept asking questions in the hopes that one of his residents would walk into the morgue.

“You’re stalling, Ryan, but I expected no less. He fits because he was connected to Rachel. In an indirect way, but he still fits. He worked for the lawyer, Emily. He wasn’t a good cop, and he certainly wasn’t a good person. He knowingly turned in a false confession that eventually led to the death of an innocent kid.

“Your next question I will ask for you. How did Emily fit in, you wonder? She hired him and then lied about hiring him, and as latent justice would have it, she was sued by the family of the kid. She lost her job and almost lost her license to practice law. But most importantly, and this is what matters to me the most, it’s not the kid. I am not a vigilante. Emily was Rachel’s best friend, and when Rachel came to her for guidance and told her in confidence that she suspected Brad and Eric of smuggling, Emily not only ignored her, she violated her trust. She told Eric, and Eric told Brad. Brad’s first plane crash was the following week. Even after Rachel died, Emily refused to bring charges against the doctor, and she refused to investigate the case. Stephanie would be alive today if Emily hadn’t betrayed Rachel’s trust. Possibly Rachel would be alive too.”

Seth finished his story and let out a sigh of relief. “I am just curious, Ryan, what gave me away? I am always careful.”

“ ‘Always’? What does that mean, ‘always’? Are there more than these killings?” Ryan hesitantly asked.

“Of course there is, my friend.” Seth softly laughed. “I don’t think you want to know all the skeletons in my closet, and I am not prepared to divulge everything, at least not tonight. Now, I asked you a question, and given that I have answered yours, you need to answer mine. How did you figure this out?”

“The picture. The one by your front door,” Ryan answered, shaking his head. “I have seen that picture many times, and something about it always bothered me. You know, Mac, uh, I mean Seth. It is Seth, isn’t it?”

Seth nodded his head. “Yes, it is.”

“OK, Seth. At first I thought it was a picture of you and your sister. ‘Perhaps she’s dead, and that’s why he never talks about her.’ That’s what I told myself. The state searched Dr. Rivers’s home, you remember. You were there. A box of papers, flight records, and even some old photos were removed. One old photo was of a young girl and boy standing in front of a house. I knew I had seen that picture before, and it finally came to me. I had seen that photo before because it was one of you with the same young girl. The photo was in your house, on your table, in your foyer. It wasn’t a photo of your sister; it was a shrine to Rachel.”

“Hmmm, I didn’t think you had noticed the photo. It doesn’t matter. Get the coat on. As much as I would enjoy talking to you more, my friend, I have to leave.” Seth opened the morgue cooler and motioned for Ryan to go inside.

Ryan put the coat on, picked up the blankets, and walked toward the open door. “You are really going through with this, aren’t you? I suppose this will be the last time I see you.”

Seth reached into his jacket, pulled out a handful of pocket hand warmers, and tossed them to Ryan. “Use these sparingly. I know you probably don’t believe me, but I would hate to find out something happened to you. If you look closely in those blankets, you will find a small flashlight. I will send someone to open the door once I am finished.”

Looking at his old friend standing in front of the cooler door, Seth felt a flash of sadness. They had been friends for many years.

“For what it’s worth,” Seth said, “I am sorry things ended like this.” He took the cell phone from Ryan and then closed the morgue cooler door, leaving Ryan inside.