All That Lies Broken (Ashmore's Folly Book 2) (64 page)

Richard looked away, and her alarm escalated. Maybe he really didn’t care for this long-unknown child. Maybe she was not only Francie reborn but Francie squared. He said finally, “Ask me tomorrow. She acted out all afternoon. I have it on good authority that I can never hope to aspire to the greatness that was Cameron St. Bride.”

“Oh, that.” Surely he knew better than to take such hostility personally. Lucy waved a hand in relief. “I wouldn’t worry. The kid lost her father, and you’re hooked up with her mother. You’re here and he’s not. Of course, you don’t measure up to him.” She fetched some napkins from the bag. “Can you deal with that?”

“I’ll deal.” His voice definitively ended the subject. “Did you get egg drop soup?”

“Sure.” She pushed a container towards him, and pulled an envelope from her folder, careful not to let him see the other contents. “Since you’re – um, Laurie’s landlord now, so to speak, would you mind giving this to her?”

Richard took the envelope. “No problem. What is it?”

“Some of her papers I found in Dominic’s desk. Birth certificate, baptismal certificate, stuff like that. Even her old Irish passport. I made copies for the estate, but I figured she might like to have the originals. That man kept everything, I’m telling you.”

Richard opened a couple of cartons. “The attic in that house is a packrat’s dream. Diana needs to clean it out before the floor collapses. The whole house is a disaster waiting to happen. Oh, good, sweet and sour shrimp.”

She snatched the carton from him. “Hands off.”

“Don’t hog it.” He reached across the table for it, and she removed it from his reach with a smirk. “Let me guess. I’m taking food out of the mouth of an expectant mother.”

Lucy deliberately dumped the shrimp over her rice. “The baby likes sweet and sour sauce. I’m just meeting my child’s nutritional needs.”

“Your baby likes some peculiar things for being two inches long.” Richard rolled his eyes. “All right, go ahead and hog it all. Get him started early on those braces.”

She giggled, and for a couple of minutes, she forgot what she had come for. They lapsed into a companionable silence; they had done this so many times over the years that she had lost count. In their early careers, one had often brought dinner to the other, taking a break from their customary sixty-hour work weeks. It was at one of their impromptu office dinners that he had first told her he was going back to church; at another, she had told him that Tom was The One. They had done a lot of bonding over deli sandwiches, pizza, and lo mein.

She waited until he finished his soup to ease into her interrogation. “How would you get rid of a body at Ash Marine?”

Richard looked at her, startled. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Who’d you kill?” Then he laughed. “You’ve got to stop this. Find another hobby. I can’t keep hiding bodies for you.”

Lucy refused to be sidetracked. “I want to know. Where would you put a body so it would never be seen again?”

Richard studied her, and she made her face impassive. “Okay, I’ll bite,” he said. “I’d take the body up in my plane, go out a few miles, and dump it over the Atlantic.”

She hadn’t thought of that.
Never ask a question you don’t know the answer to.
There had been a lot of flying to and from Ash Marine that day. “No, no, Ash Marine. Don’t cheat with the plane.”

“All right.” Richard’s brows drew together. “If you’re going to be that picky, obviously the best place is the bay. Put your – um, body down on the coast to the north, near the harbor, and pray that no one goes sailing by before high tide.”

“Why there?”

“Easy,” said Richard. “The current. That’s your best bet for the body to float out into the bay. I can’t tell you how many models I’ve lost on that side.”

Lucy’s heartbeat picked up. “So – you wouldn’t dump the body in the cove on the south end and wait for high tide there?”

He shook his head. “Currents again. There are some underwater rocks about twenty feet out – you’ve probably never noticed them, but if you fly over them, they’re in plain sight. They’re about six inches under the water line. It usually takes a storm to wash anything out of the cove.”

“But there’s a tide. I’ve seen it.”

“About a year ago,” he reached for a fried crab wonton, “I had a five-footer go down in that area, beautiful German engine, and I searched and searched for it. I even went down to the cove, but I didn’t see it. I had to leave because the wind was picking up. Went back a week later, flew in over the cove and looked down, and there it was, bobbing up and down in the water. It couldn’t get past the rocks. Wing was shot, but I rescued the engine, dried it out. I’ve got it now on that—”

She made an exasperated sound. Her witness was wandering off the subject.

“Okay. Upshot is, it’s hard to wash something out of the cove unless the weather helps out.”

Lucy said, “So a body would catch on the rocks?”

“More than catch,” said Richard. “The current’s almost circular there in the cove. It would probably float right back to shore. All right, Luce, you’ve had your fun. What are you up to?”

Witnesses weren’t supposed to ask questions. She was in charge of this prosecution.

He was watching her now with a trace of suspicion, taking first chair at the opposing table. He knew her too well; he was trying to fathom what she was up to. She couldn’t help the upsurge of anxiety. Her bond with Richard was important to her; they had been brother and sister all their lives, and this hour, this night, might damage or even rupture that forever.

And if it did? If he threw her out of his office and never spoke to her again?

But she had to know. She reminded herself that she was Diana’s advocate, and took a deep breath. “I drove out to the county police station this morning.”

Richard looked taken aback. What had he been expecting? “Why?”

“Because,” Lucy’s heart beat hard, “I wanted to find out what happened on—” she took another breath— “August 6, 1991.”

And now there was no mistaking his reaction. His glance snapped up from the fried rice.

That date meant something to him.

“Last Monday,” Lucy said, “Di and I met for breakfast, and I saw her wrist. Naturally, I demanded to know what had happened. She told me—” she stopped— “an utterly fantastic story. She says she slashed her wrist because—”

She hesitated. She was treading perilous ground.

Richard said, without emotion, “What did she say?”

He was still, watching. He did know. He must. And he wanted to see what she knew.

She mustn’t forget how damn smart he was. And he’d had eleven years to come up with a story.

“Di told me,” she said, “that, last Friday, when she and Laura were over at Dominic’s house, Laura said Francie was murdered.” She swallowed. “According to Laura, by Di herself. At Ash Marine. It seems Francie called Di and told her to come meet her – and before you say anything, Richard, you need to know Di has admitted to the phone call. But Di says she had a flat tire on the way, and she never got there.”

She felt his mind zeroing in on her words. Something she had said was new to him. What?

“Laura told Di – and remember, I’m repeating what Di told me, and you know she isn’t the best one for remembering things straight. Laura and Francie were there alone, I gather they were staying in Dominic’s cottage. And Francie called Di because—”

Her chest felt tight.

“She intended to lure Di out there to kill her. She—”

He made a sound in his throat.

“She had a knife and a gun, sort of overkill, but Laura hid the gun, so she, Francie, only had the knife. So – Francie and Di met, and Francie attacked Di, and Di wrestled the knife away and slit Francie’s throat. That,” said Lucy, “is what Laura told Di.”

In the solitary light, Richard’s eyes hardened.

“And then – again, according to Laura – Di threw Francie’s body into the cove, where Laura stumbled across her, but the tide washed Francie away, and she was never found.” Lucy felt the first urge to hyperventilate and squelched it ruthlessly. “At least – that’s what Di claims Laura told her.”

She folded her hands in front of her. They were shaking.

Richard said nothing. He merely stared at her, his face still and set, and she saw his mind racing. After a moment, he glanced down, and she saw him swallow. “Lucy,” he said clearly, “that is ridiculous. Utterly fantastic, you said? Yes, I think so.”

She said nothing.

He added flatly, “I do not believe Laura said anything of the sort to Diana.”

“I’ve questioned Di several times,” Lucy said. “She’s remarkably consistent. So the question I pose is – why would Di make this up? What could she possibly gain from it?”

Silence.

“Laura was there,” said Lucy. She felt surer now, laying out the reasoning that had filled a legal pad that afternoon. “It’s not clear to me why. It seems odd that someone bent on murder brought her sister along for the ride. Be that as it may – Francie found a way to neutralize her. Laura didn’t intervene in this catfight.”

“Which makes it unlikely there ever was a catfight,” he said instantly.

“She failed to intervene because Francie,” she looked at him head-on, “drugged her to keep her from interfering. And then Francie went out to meet Di and ended up getting herself killed – except Di swears she never made it to Ash Marine that day.” She closed her eyes to draw strength. “And you know what, Richard? I believe her. Di, I mean. I believe Di.”

Another measure of silence. And then he astonished her.

“So do I.” Richard took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “However, I don’t believe Laura told her such a story.”

“I believe,” Lucy said, “that she did.”

Her words hung there in the room.

“I have given this a lot of thought, Richard, and I come up with a couple of reasons why Laura told Di all this. Di said she seemed very sincere. She was pale, shaking – she wasn’t trying to pull Di’s leg. So – here’s what it comes down to. Either your lady love – and
my sister
, remember – is suffering from delusions, or she honestly thought she was telling Di the truth.”

She had expected him to defend Laura, and he did not disappoint her. “Laura does not suffer from delusions. If anything, she has keen insight into the heart of matters.”

“Then,” Lucy said, “she believes she told Di the truth. Except – it wasn’t. It can’t be.”

She paused. Surely he knew where she was heading. He must now be wondering the same thing she was. “Why do you think,” she asked, “Laura believes this is the truth?”

More silence. He never took his eyes from her, but he leaned forward slightly, resting his jaw against his left hand. Eventually he shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know why she would believe anything this bizarre.”

“Okay.” Lucy felt a little stronger now. Not that the worst was over, not by a long shot, but at least he was going along with her. “So the question becomes – if Laura believes this, there’s a reason. What happened to Francie out there? If Laura saw her with her throat cut, and Di never got there – who cut Francie’s throat?”

The question dangled in the air, and Lucy thought then how strange it was, to sit in this familiar conference room, scene of so many meetings and late-night dinners, asking a man who might have killed his ex-girlfriend. Accusing his current girlfriend of who knew what.

Richard said tightly, “If you are suggesting that Laura – no. She isn’t capable of murder.”

He said it, but did he really believe it? Tom had assessed Laura as a ruthless character when she wanted to be. Or needed to be?

She went for broke.

“I disagree. I believe, under the right circumstances, Laura is quite capable of it. I agree she would not get rid of Francie for the same reason Francie would get rid of Di – to get a rival out of the way. But she would kill to protect someone.” She paused. “Like Meg.”

He surprised her again.

He settled back and spread his hands in a gesture of concession. “She is fiercely protective of Meg. I had the devil of a time getting her to let me drive her to the airport last night. But you’re assuming Francie was threatening Meg in some way.” At her look, he said, “That’s what you’re implying, isn’t it? Laura being the only one there, she went after Francie to protect Meg? I don’t believe it.”

Lucy said carefully, “You don’t? Why not?”

“Because, if Francie were really a threat to Meg—” he shook his head. “No. Laura held the upper hand. She’s Meg’s legal mother. Francie’s rights must have been terminated in the adoption. And – you can’t discount this – Laura had St. Bride on her side. Francie must have known she could never win against them in court.”

“Oh,” said Lucy, “I think she might have stood a chance – if she’d enlisted you.”

He turned a startled look in her direction.

“Oh, come on, Richard, we danced around this the other day. You’re the biological father, and your rights were terminated without your knowledge. Let’s say Francie decides, a few years after the fact, that she wants to be a mama after all, and she asks Laura to give Meg back, and Laura says not only no, but hell no. So Francie threatens to go to you and tell you that, surprise, you’re a daddy, and by the way, in return for her silence, would you help her get her baby back? Let me tell you, you’d have stood a good chance, because the courts do not look kindly on parental rights being terminated by fraud. So Laurie takes matters into her own hands and very efficiently does away with Miss Francie and any threat to her position as Meg’s mother.”