Sarah Armstrong - 01 - Singularity (34 page)

I
’m looking for Doyle Tyler. Where have they got him?” I asked.

It was the following morning and I was in the lobby of the Harris County Medical Examiner’s Building, also known as the county morgue.

“Room five,” the receptionist said, checking her computer. “Looks like they’ve already started cutting.”

On a stainless-steel coroner’s table, Tyler looked small and common. His hands were delicate and fine; his face, with his eyes closed, rather ordinary. The only mark on him, with the exception of the three gunshot wounds, was an amateurish tattoo over his heart, a knife dripping blood, superimposed over a cross. As I stared down at his cold naked body, I willed myself not to remember the young boy in the photograph. Maybe someday I’d be able to sort through the past few weeks with a cooler head, even gain some semblance of professional objectivity, instead of rage.

One of the assistant coroners, Dr. Joseph Fernandez, a round, thick-necked man, who on his days off wore a black leather jacket and rode with a motorcycle club, had already sliced through Tyler’s
chest and abdomen in a “Y,” from the shoulders to pubic bone, and opened him up. “The subject is Doyle Tyler of Bardwell, Texas, twenty-one years old. Caucasian. Mr. Tyler has a thin build, five-foot-eleven inches tall and weighing one hundred thirty-five pounds,” he said into a tape recorder.

I walked out the door. I’d accomplished what I’d come for. If she ever asked, I wanted to be able to tell Maggie that I had seen Gabriel dead. I never wanted her to worry about him again. Never, not for a moment, did I want her to imagine that there was any chance he’d be back.

Later that afternoon I sat in my office behind my desk, clearing up paperwork. I had a few things to tie up before my leave began, two months off to contemplate my future. It was the captain’s idea, and this time I hadn’t argued. Right now, I wasn’t capable of making any decisions, especially whether I would return to the rangers or look for a new career.

From the moment I’d walked in the office that morning, I’d noticed eyes turning toward me. Sheila’s, the captain’s, my fellow rangers’. Every time they glanced in my direction, they quickly turned away. I knew what they were thinking, not so much whether I’d be back but whether Maggie and I would be all right. No one came right out and asked. They danced around it, like when the captain ventured, “Guess you might need some time off to get things straightened out at home.” I just nodded. I wasn’t up to talking yet. It was all too fresh. Besides, although he’d apologized for the suspension, it left a bad taste in my mouth.

Maybe that would go away. Maybe it wouldn’t.

If anyone had asked outright, I would have admitted I didn’t know how Maggie and I were
really
doing.

Maggie’s outward strength surprised me. That morning she’d dressed for school as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Certain she needed time to come to terms with all that we’d been
through, knowing I did, I convinced her to stay home with Mom for a day. Tonight, after dinner, we’d discuss the future. Mrs. Hansen had recommended a counselor, and I’d already called for appointments for both of us. I couldn’t sidestep our pain any longer. No matter how long it took, I was determined that we’d heal from the horror of the past year.

On the other hand, Mom appeared to be recovering quickly.

In typical fashion, she’d worked out her anxieties in the kitchen. We weren’t home fifteen minutes when she had the counters loaded with ingredients. She whipped up fresh lemon squares, to the delight of a platoon of officers who’d accompanied us to take our statements. And Strings? He was back in school, I had no doubt, boasting to every kid in the class about the experience. Before we’d even left the scene, I heard him ask David if he’d come to school to answer questions about how real-live FBI agents work. David agreed, contingent on Mrs. Hansen’s okay.

“Someone here to see you.”

I looked up and the captain stood at my office door.

“I’m not much up for company,” I said.

“It’s Priscilla Lucas.”

I nodded, he left, and moments later she entered the room, accompanied by her father.

“I just wanted to thank you,” she said, holding out her hand.

I shook it and said, “You could have avoided a lot of pain and saved a lot of people mountains of work if you’d just been truthful with the officers working this case.”

“I couldn’t…”

“Why did you give Annmarie Knowles the hundred grand?” I asked. She looked stunned, and I asked again. “Priscilla, you
owe
me an explanation.”

“You gave the money to that woman, Edward’s girlfriend?” said her father. Turning to me, he asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I had the bank records for everyone involved in this case subpoenaed,” I explained. “The same day your daughter withdrew the money from the bank, Ms. Knowles made a deposit, for the identical sum, in cash.”

Turning back to Priscilla, I said, “You’re not going to tell me that’s some kind of bizarre coincidence, are you?”

“If I tell you why I paid her,” she said, her voice tentative, “I need your assurance that the information will never be made public. Edward’s family has vowed to fight for custody of the children, and they wouldn’t hesitate to use it against me.”

“This is no longer a murder investigation,” I explained. “You’ve been cleared of any involvement, so there’s no need for what you tell me to ever leave this room. But I want to know. I deserve an answer.”

“Sarah, I…” she said, hesitating. “Frankly, this is hard to talk about.”

“Do it anyway,” I said.

She swallowed hard and looked at her father. “I wanted out of the marriage, and I knew Edward would never agree to a divorce, not unless he was, how can I say this, distracted.”

“And you paid Annmarie to be that distraction?”

“Yes,” she said, glancing at her father out of the corner of her eye. “Annmarie agreed to romance Edward. Part of our agreement was that she would convince him to agree to the divorce and to not fight for the children.”

Rather than shocked, Barker looked intrigued.

“Pris, I didn’t think you had it in you,” the old man said, with a grin I can only describe as parental pride. “That man had been riding roughshod over you for so many years…”

“It wasn’t something I wanted to do, but I saw no other way,” she stammered.

“Annmarie took the money and then…?” I prodded.

“She took the money and then, the following day, refused to help
me. That’s why we argued at her condo the night before their murders,” Priscilla said. “Edward had suddenly proposed. She’d already said yes. He told her the children were part of the deal. Annmarie said she’d fallen in love with Edward, and, looking back now, she may have been telling the truth. When he was courting, my late husband could be quite charming. At the time, I didn’t believe her. I accused her of double-crossing me to get Edward’s money and the social position such a marriage would guarantee her. Whatever her motivation, Annmarie feared Edward would drop her if she challenged his plans. She may have been right. It was risky crossing Edward. I myself rarely had the courage to do it.”

“So that’s it?” I said. “The whole story?”

“That’s it,” Priscilla said, looking relieved to have finally explained her role. “And, again, I want to thank you. I can’t help thinking about how this might have turned out.”

“Next time,” I said, “forget all the intrigue and just hire a good divorce attorney.”

Priscilla laughed. “Believe me, there will be no next time. I intend to live a quiet, even boring life from this day forward.”

“You know, that doesn’t sound bad,” I said.

“So, Sarah, what’s the plan?” David asked when he walked me to my car late that afternoon. “You coming back or is Texas losing a great ranger?”

“Haven’t a clue,” I said. “Right now I’m not thinking past tomorrow afternoon.”

“What happens tomorrow afternoon?”

“Maggie and I have a date at the Gallería ice rink,” I said.

“Ah, she mentioned that you’d promised,” he said. “May I join you?”

I thought for a moment. It was tempting. I would have liked to
spend time with him, away from the office, if for nothing else just to talk. But, instead, I shook my head. “David, I’m sorry,” I said. “This is a mother-and-daughter event.”

He smiled, and then slipped his hand onto my shoulder. “Okay. I understand,” he said, but his eyes looked troubled. “Now, what about us?”

“You’re really interested?” I asked, making no move to pull away.

“Very interested,” he said, without hesitation. “Probably, more than you realize.”

“Well, I don’t know what about us. I’m sorry. I can’t think about us now. Not yet. I don’t even know about myself yet. I have some work to do to figure out where I’m going, what I do next,” I said, being as honest as I could at that moment, with so much of the future yet to be decided. “And then there’s Maggie. Without Bill, after all that’s happened, for a while she’s going to need me more than ever.”

“So you want time to sort through a few things? I can live with that,” he said, running his hand over my arm. “How much time?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I can’t make any guarantees.”

David frowned, but nodded. “Okay. One day at a time.”

With that, I turned to leave, but then thought better of it. “Just one more thing?”

“Sure,” David said. “Anything.”

There was something I wanted to do. I wrapped one arm around his shoulder, the other firmly around his neck, and pulled him toward me. It was without a doubt the longest, wettest kiss I’d ever planted on a man in my life. I breathed in and inhaled him, holding him close and wishing for so much more. When it was over, I took a step back and smiled at him, shooting for casual, hoping he couldn’t feel my heart race.

“That’s not fair,” he scolded, catching his breath. “You can’t do that and leave.”

“Just a little something to remember me by for the time being,” I said, smiling and pulling open the Tahoe’s door.

David laughed. “You are cruel, Sarah.”

“Maybe,” I said. “I just needed one for the road.”

David’s smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed. “I don’t like the sound of that,” he said.

“If we hook up again, maybe we could try a more leisurely pace?” I said, with a smile. “Maybe dinner and a movie?”

“Ah, a real date,” he agreed, his voice calmer but still hesitant. “I’d like that.”

With that, I slid inside the Tahoe and pulled the door shut. Moments later I’d eased into reverse and backed out of my parking slot.

Earlier, Mom had called to say that she had a pork loin and oven-browned potatoes roasting and that at my daughter’s request we’d dine
al fresco
, at a picnic table Maggie set up beneath the corral elm tree. I didn’t have to ask why. Maggie wanted Bill to see us, to know that we were okay. Not knowing what the rules are in heaven, I couldn’t help praying that God would give him permission to visit us under the Christmas light stars.

At the street, I glanced in my rearview mirror. David hadn’t moved. Arms folded, he watched as I merged into traffic and drove away.