If Brunswick was idyllic, picturesque, Lewiston was its ugly older sister in shabby clothes. Run-down, boarded-up mills along the Androscoggin River. Motel 6s and Subways on the main drag instead of charming New England inns.
Across the river, Auburn was the sister’s even plainer friend.
It was about a thirty-minute drive from the coast. Hauck crossed over the bridge and stopped at a 7-Eleven and punched “New Morris Road” into the GPS. The guidance system took him out to East Auburn, situated on a large, unfrozen lake, then continued, following the stark, wooded shoreline. Along the road, dingy farms with rusted old tractors and pickups in front mixed with more modern shingled capes, probably home to college students and professors from Bates, which was perched across the river.
Hauck continued on.
About halfway around the lake, the GPS alerted him to New Morris Road, a cluster of weather-beaten mailboxes marking the intersection. He headed toward the water. The road was paved but rutted. The harsh Maine winters had had their way.
Like to see Old Morris Road. Hauck chuckled to himself.
Ahead, a couple of run-down farmhouses came into view: 380, 440. Some even had covered boats dry-docked in the front yard.
At a curve, a rickety fence in front, was a white clapboard farmhouse.
Four ninety-five.
The house had black hanging shutters, a listing wooden porch, and backed onto the lake. There were a couple of vehicles pulled up in front, a Toyota SUV and a beaten-up Dodge minivan. Hauck saw the lights were on inside.
He climbed out of the car and checked his gun strapped against his chest. He caught sight of a curtain parting in a downstairs window.
They were here.
He went up the steps to the landing and knocked. He heard voices inside.
It took a few seconds before a heavyset woman in a white peasant top opened the door, carrying a baby in her arms.
Hauck removed his sunglasses. “Mrs. Whyte?”
The woman juggled the baby. “Yes.”
“I’m Lieutenant Hauck. I’m from the town of Greenwich, in Connecticut. I’m sorry to bother you. I was hoping I might find Paul Pacello here.”
“Pacello?” The woman seemed a bit nervous, acting as if she’d never heard the name.
“Yes, ma’am. He used to be an employee of the Pequot Woods Casino. You know him, don’t you?”
“No, um…” The baby started to whimper. “Yes…” Her large eyes seemed ill at ease. “Hush, Noah!”
Hauck looked at her. “He’s your father, isn’t he?”
The woman shook her head, unsure what to do. She jiggled the squirming baby. “Yes, he’s my father…But he’s not here. He lives about thirty minutes away. Down in Brunswick. He’s probably there. I don’t know what would have brought you up here.”
“I’ve already been there,” Hauck said. “I was told he and his wife left yesterday in kind of a rush. A workman at the house said he was gone for a few days.”
“Oh. I wouldn’t know anything about that…Listen, I’ve got to see to my child. You can see he’s all in a mess. I can tell them you came by. What did you say your name was?”
“Hauck,” he said again. “You’re sure they’re not here?”
“Of course I’m sure,” the woman said, agitated. “Now I’ve got to go. I’m sorry…”
“One last thing.” Hauck motioned toward the silver Toyota 4-Runner parked outside the garage. “That belong to you, Ms. Whyte? The one with Connecticut plates?”
Linda Whyte’s face flushed red.
“Listen, Ms. Whyte, I know they’re here.” Hauck took a step up the landing. “They’re probably inside there now and I only need a few words with your father, in connection with the murder of a Keith Kramer, whom I think he knew. And the fact that he’s going to this much trouble to avoid talking only gives rise to the thought that maybe there’s something to hide.”
“I don’t know.” Her eyes flitted, nervously. “I—”
“Linda…” A voice sounded from inside. “It’s okay, honey…”
Pacello came up behind her in the doorway. “I guess you’re looking for me?”
He was dressed in a plaid flannel shirt and rumpled pants. The same salt-and-pepper crew cut and heavy oversized eyeglasses Hauck recalled from Raines’s video.
“I don’t have to talk with you,” he said. “You don’t have any jurisdiction here.”
“May I come in?”
“No, you can’t come in.” Pacello eased his daughter out of the doorway. “What you can do is get back in your car there and drive on home. I don’t know anything about any murder. I barely knew Keith. Sometimes we worked in the same section. I can’t help you.”
“How did you know I was headed up here? Did Raines warn you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mister. I came to visit my family. Is that a crime? And I don’t have to continue this conversation if I don’t want to, unless you’ve got a warrant. I’m retired. I don’t work for the resort anymore. I don’t know anything about what happened to Keith. That was all too bad. So if you don’t mind, I’m sorry…”
He moved to shut the door.
Hauck caught it before it shut and met the man’s eyes. “I can come back with a warrant if you like, Mr. Pacello. A federal one. I know about how you came to buy your inn. How you paid off the mortgage. I know precisely where the check came from. The Pequot Woods. Five hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars…That’s a little more than a gold watch for your ten years. You wouldn’t want to have to answer questions about that, would you? Sort of has the feel of someone who may have been bought off.”
“Bought off?” Pacello opened the door wider. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, mister. Bought off for what?”
“For your silence.” Hauck shrugged. “For your participation in a scheme to implicate a federal attorney in a phony gambling scam. For covering up what happened to Keith Kramer. That is how you got your little nest egg paid off, right? After falling three months behind in the payments. Now do you have an idea what I’m talking about, Mr. Pacello?”
Lines tightened on the dealer’s face. For a second, he seemed about to lunge at Hauck.
“I also know your place is held in a trust. For your daughter here. Your grandkids…”
“That’s enough, okay?”
“You don’t want to risk that, do you? So far, I’m not sure you’ve done anything really wrong. Nothing that a few smart words from you wouldn’t correct. But if you really want me to come back with that warrant, I’m not sure I can promise how someone else might look at that little transaction down the line.”
“You don’t understand.” Pacello shook his head. His voice grew hushed. “I’ve seen what they would do.”
“It’s too late,” Hauck said. “It’s going to come out. Four people are dead. If it’s not me, it’ll be someone else.”
From behind him, a woman stepped into the doorway. Graying hair, kind gray eyes. She put a hand on Pacello’s shoulder. “Come on, Paul. We always knew this was going to happen.”
“Get back, Katherine.”
“No,” she said, “I won’t get back. I won’t let this go on anymore. What’s done is done.” She stepped onto the landing and opened the door. “Let the lieutenant in.”