Dena sat shivering, her feet flat on the greasy cement floor, staring at a sun-kissed calendar girl in a mesh bikini over the littered, gray metal desk in front of her. An ashtray piled high with cigarette butts was balanced precariously on a pile of automotive catalogues. A grimy mechanic in coveralls came into the cluttered office, wiping his hands on a gray hand towel. ‘Somebody punctured it, all right,’ he said. ‘You want to take a look?’
Dena said, ‘Sure,’ although she knew she would have no idea what she was looking at. The mechanic led her back into the garage and hefted the tire, which was leaning up against her car. He rotated it in his filthy hands as if it were a balloon.
‘What am I looking at?’ she asked.
‘Well, look here,’ he said. ‘You got a hole right there. A nice neat hole. And no nail. Somebody stabbed with something. An awl, maybe. Anyway, the tire’s shot. It couldn’t be repaired. I had to give you a new one.’
Dena had only one concern at the moment. ‘Is it ready?’ she asked.
The mechanic shrugged. ‘Sure. Take it away. You can pay in the office.’
‘There’s nobody there,’ Dena said.
‘She’s just takin’ a leak. She’ll be back in a minute.’
Sure enough, when Dena returned to the office, a dark-haired woman dressed in layers of flannel was at the desk. Dena settled her bill and thanked the woman for her keys. Then she went back to get her car. As she was backing out into the gas-pumping area, a police patrol car pulled in. She recognized the dark, solemn face of the driver.
She stopped the car and stared at him, unsmiling.
Tyrell Watkins got out and straightened up. Ken McCarthy got out on his side and the two conferred for a moment. Then Ken went inside the garage and began to talk to the mechanic. Tyrell walked slowly over to the window beside Dena and tapped on it.
She thought angrily about just driving away but then she pressed the button and lowered the window.
‘You took your time,’ she said coldly. ‘How surprising.’
Tyrell leaned down, his large hands resting on the side of the Camry. ‘We’ve been out talking to the fellows who picked you up. They said you rode back here with the tow-truck driver.’
‘I suppose you’re going to tell me I should have waited there for you.’
Tyrell grimaced and looked into the distance. ‘Not necessary,’ he said. ‘They told me what happened.’
Dena stared straight ahead through her windshield. ‘Now I suppose you’re going to tell me that boys will be boys, right, Sergeant?’ Her tone was sarcastic, but her voice was shaking.
Tyrell shook his head. She thought she glimpsed a slightly apologetic look in his eye. It did little to assuage her outrage. ‘You may not believe this, Miss Russell, but I went out and talked to him just this morning,’ he said.
Dena scarcely trusted her voice. ‘I guess you really scared him.’
‘He promised me up and down that he’d leave you alone.’
‘Well, he didn’t,’ she said curtly.
‘Are you hurt?’ he asked.
‘No, I’m furious,’ she said.
Tyrell nodded. ‘Well, I guess so,’ he said slowly. ‘I don’t blame you.’
At that moment Ken emerged from the depths of the garage and joined Tyrell beside the Camry. ‘I talked to Mack,’ he said. ‘He said it was no case of road wear. The tire’s been punctured.’
Tyrell nodded. ‘Ask him to sign a statement to that effect.’
‘Will do,’ said Ken, returning to the bay where a Subaru Outback was being raised on a lift.
‘Are you going to arrest him now?’ Dena asked.
‘I’ll pick him up.’
‘Good.’
Tyrell grimaced. ‘We probably won’t be able to keep him for very long.’
‘What’s very long?’
‘A couple of hours. Maybe overnight.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ said Dena. She rested her forehead against the steering wheel in frustration. Then she straightened up. ‘Do you realize that we’re talking about a man who may have killed a woman? Does he have to kill me too, before you do something about it?’
Tyrell sighed. ‘There is something we can do.’
‘Then do it,’ she said.
The Evermay Room, one of the two dining rooms in the Endicott Hotel, was nearly empty now, save for a bartender wiping out glasses at the linen-covered table which had served as a bar, a few waitresses, carrying trays of small, dirty plates back to the kitchen, and a few people still seated around small tables in the room. An hour ago the room had looked like the scene of one of the many celebrations that had been held here over the years, except that all the guests were dressed in shades of gray and black. People greeted each other lovingly, and conversation rose to a party level as the mourners for Jennifer Hubbell devoured drinks and hors d’oeuvres after the funeral. Jake Smith supervised the gathering. He understood well, in his middle age, that people responded to death first with tears, and then with a heightened appetite for life. He had provided well for these friends who mourned with him. It was the last party he would ever give for his beloved daughter, and he had insisted that it be lavish.
In one corner of the room, Ron Hubbell sat, knee to knee, with his old friends.
Laura rubbed his back as Skip spoke earnestly to him.
‘Look,’ said Skip, ‘we think you should come back home with us. There’s nothing left for you here.’
Ron looked vaguely around the room. ‘I … I can’t leave,’ he said.
‘Listen to me,’ said Skip. ‘I’ve known you most of my life. Thanks to you, I’ve found my soulmate.’ He and Laura exchanged a tremulous glance. ‘We want you to come back to Boston where we can take care of you. You have lots of friends who want to see you. You can stay in our house. We have plenty of room.’
Ron’s heart felt like a stone in his chest. He looked at his friends as if from a great distance. ‘That’s nice of you,’ he said lifelessly. ‘But the police won’t let me leave. Besides, I’d only be in the way.’
‘Never,’ said Laura fiercely. Skip put a hand on her shoulder. She took a deep breath, and addressed Ron again. ‘This can’t last much longer. And then, we will come and get you. We’re not saying this to be nice. We need to do this. I need to do it. For Jen. She would never forgive me if I didn’t look after you …’ Her voice was urgent and thick with tears. ‘She got me through the darkest days of my life. I often think I would never have survived without her. I could never thank her enough, but by God, I can do what she would want me to do. She would want me to help you get through this, any way I can.’
The determination of her words seemed to penetrate Ron’s shroud of numbness and grief. For a moment he looked her in the eye and Laura saw a glimmer of life, even if it was only based on his memories.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘OK. When they say I can go …’
‘Skip’s been on the phone to the president of the company. He said you can work up in the Boston office. And you can come back to work when you’re ready. Really, Ron, people are so upset. They just want to help …’
Ron nodded. ‘I know,’ he whispered. ‘It does help.’
Ron’s mother came over to where they sat, her face puffy from weeping. She put a hand on Ron’s shoulder. ‘I need to talk to you, dear,’ she said. ‘There are still some things …’
Ron looked at his friends. ‘Will you excuse me?’ he said.
Skip and Laura stood up. ‘Buzz our room if you want to talk,’ said Skip. ‘Or just sit. Whatever you need.’
They all three hugged again, and then Laura and Skip left the dining room and walked out to the ancient elevator. As they pressed the button and waited for it to descend, Laura said, ‘We’ll have to come back and get him. I can’t imagine him making the trip by himself.’
‘No, of course not. We’ll drive down the minute he’s ready. Pick up his stuff. Bring him back with us.’
‘Will Dr Hackler cover for you?’ Sara Hackler was new to their practice.
‘I’m sure she will. If not, somebody else will have to do it. They’ll have to carry on without me,’ he said grimly, letting Laura step into the elevator as the door opened. Skip followed her in and pressed the number for their floor. ‘Ron is my dearest friend. You have to help somebody out when they need you. Not when it’s convenient.’
Laura squeezed his hand. ‘I knew I loved you for a reason,’ she said.
They sighed and rode quietly to their floor, walking down the empty hallway to the door of their room. Skip put the key in the lock.
‘We have to pay them for this room, Skip,’ Laura fretted.
‘Believe me, I have tried to settle this at the desk, but Jake Smith has been adamant about it. He refuses to let us pay.’
Laura walked into the room and kicked her shoes off on the rose-colored carpet.
She flopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Skip lay down beside her. ‘These rooms are very comfortable,’ she said. ‘Jennifer was always so proud of her parents’ hotel. She used to enjoy working here when she came home on vacations.’
‘I can see why she liked it,’ he said. ‘There’s something very homey about it. Elegant but homey. It’s like a big old English country house or something.’
‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘Very comfortable.’ Then she yawned. ‘I’m exhausted,’ she said.
‘Me too,’ he said. ‘I feel like we’ve been apart for a month rather than a couple of days.’ For a while, he wrapped his arms around her and they clung together, thinking about the terrible events of the day, the week.
‘How was the trip to Chicago?’ he asked.
‘The usual,’ she said. ‘Lots of interest. No results. I called Jennifer from the hotel there. I wanted to tell her our news. She was so excited. I still can’t believe it.’
‘I know,’ he said.
‘God, how the Smiths must be suffering,’ she said, staring past his shoulder. ‘There’s nothing more futile than wishing you could turn back the clock.’
‘No, there isn’t,’ he said.
‘I do it anyway,’ she said. ‘I can’t help it.’
Skip nuzzled her hair. ‘We have to look ahead.’
‘There is no pain that can compare to the loss of a child,’ she said.
‘Don’t think about it,’ he whispered. ‘Try and rest. Take a nap.’
She lay silent for a moment. ‘Are you going to sleep?’ she asked.
Skip leaned across her and picked up some medical journals from the night table. ‘I’m going to read for a while,’ he said.
She smiled at him. ‘Something light, no doubt.’
Skip grinned sheepishly. ‘Bone and Joint Surgery.’
Laura yawned. ‘Can I stay right here beside you?’
‘You’d better,’ he said.
Laura closed her eyes, thinking she would fall asleep immediately, but the minute her eyes closed, her brain seemed to start buzzing. ‘I can’t sleep,’ she said.
He glanced down at her, pressed beside him. ‘Sure you can,’ he said. ‘I’ll read to you.’
She smiled in spite of her pain. ‘You’ll bore me to sleep.’
‘Hopefully,’ he said.
She was quiet for a minute while he searched for his page. Then she said, ‘That police chief asked me if Jennifer had enemies …’
‘I think they’re clutching at straws,’ said Skip.
‘Mmmm, maybe,’ she murmured. ‘Enemies …’
‘Maybe you’ll think of something,’ he said.
She did not reply. Her eyes were closed. Good, he thought. She’s so tired.
Laura slept uneasily, as Skip began to read, her dreams a jumbled puzzle of everything she was trying to remember.
The courtroom was quiet and virtually empty when Dena and Tyrell arrived.
There was a clerk, seated a step down from the bench, and a court officer in the corner, standing guard by the door, his mind obviously wandering as he performed this obligatory function.
Tyrell indicated a seat a few rows back from the empty tables where the defense and prosecution sat during a trial. Dena sat down, and the officer took a seat beside her, leather creaking as he leaned back and extended his legs.
‘Are you going to arrest Brian?’ she asked.
‘I told Ken to pick him up.’
‘What happens now?’ Dena asked nervously.
Tyrell’s eyes scanned the room automatically, as he answered. ‘The cemetery workers should be here any minute. They had no problem about showing up. I called the municipal court judge on duty. She’s on her way. The judge will come in and I’ll be sworn to testify. I’ll give her the facts so far, and then, you’ll tell her what happened. If she wants to hear from the guys who picked you up, she’ll have them sworn.’
‘And then …?’
‘And then, if all goes as I expect it to, she’ll issue a temporary restraining order.’
‘Which means …’
‘Which means he can’t come within a hundred yards of you again or he’ll be arrested,’ Tyrell explained.
Dena nodded. ‘Do you think she’ll … you know … give it to … me?’
‘Grant the order?’ he asked. He nodded. ‘She’s tough on domestic violence. You were lucky to get her.
‘Lucky,’ Dena said, shaking her head.
Tyrell looked over at her and smiled. She had never actually seen him smile before. It changed his face so dramatically that she found herself staring at him. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘You don’t feel lucky.’
‘No, I don’t,’ she said adamantly. And then, she put a hand gently on her stomach. ‘Well, that’s not true. In some ways, I do. Do you have any children, Sergeant?’
Tyrell frowned and shook his head. ‘Me? No. No, I’m not even married.’
Dena sighed. ‘Well, that’s not a prerequisite these days.’
‘It is for me,’ he said.
Dena did not look at him. ‘That’s what I always thought,’ she said. ‘But, what is it they say? Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.’
‘Not if you’re careful,’ he said.
Dena was stung by the implied rebuke in his words. She turned away, looking toward the door beside the judge’s bench, wishing the judge would appear. Wishing this was over.
‘Sorry,’ Tyrell murmured. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’ Dena looked at him in surprise.
He met her glance, and wondered about Brian’s accusations. Was she having an affair with that other guy? She seemed awfully straight, but … ‘You don’t always know about people,’ he conceded.
Dena sighed. ‘No, you’re probably right. Things don’t just happen. When I met Brian, I was almost thirty, single, afraid I would never have a family. Let’s face it. A little … desperate. So, I got in over my head with someone I hardly knew. I let it happen. I wasn’t cautious. I jumped in, not knowing … I had no idea …’ She shook her head.
‘I think he’ll pull back, now.’
‘I hope you’re right. Sometimes they just ignore these orders. You read about it all the time. Oh, I just want to get away from here.’
‘Something’s bound to break on this murder pretty soon,’ he said.
‘Not as long as you people keep trying to blame it on Ron,’ she said.
‘We’re not trying to blame it on anybody. We’re just trying to figure out what happened,’ he replied impatiently.
‘It could not have been Ron.’
‘How well do you know him?’ Tyrell asked.
‘Not that well. But I was with them. I saw them together. I could just tell.
‘No offense, ma’am, but if you were that good a judge of character, we wouldn’t be here right now,’ he said wryly.
Dena thought about taking offense, but decided there was truth in what he said.
‘What I want to know is, have you people even questioned Brian about … Jennifer’s death. You know about her sister, don’t you?’
Tyrell frowned. ‘I’ve heard about it. But he was not implicated …’
‘Officially, I know,’ she said. ‘But it seems to me that everything he does is OK with the police. Everything he says is taken for truth, while the rest of us are treated like liars. I mean, why is that, Sergeant? Why is he immune?’
‘He’s not,’ said Tyrell. ‘We’re here, aren’t we?’ But, even as he said it, he knew there was something justified in her complaint. Something he didn’t understand himself.
Before Dena could reply, the door at the front of the courtroom beside the bench opened and a small-boned woman with coffee-colored skin and a short gray afro entered the courtroom wearing a black robe. The court attendant beside the door called out, ‘All rise.’
Automatically, Tyrell reached for Dena’s elbow to help her to her feet. She shook off his hand and stood up to face the judge.