False Front (12 page)

Jake eased the door open and stepped into the room, both pairs of eyes pivoted in his direction. He introduced himself, explaining that he was not here on official FBI business; he was just a friend hoping to find answers for a family. ‘What can you tell me about Dylan O’Hara, Todd?’

Todd shrugged. The deputy tapped his foot against the chair leg. ‘Answer him, with words.’

‘I don’t know him.’

Jake sighed. ‘We know you know him. We have many witnesses to that fact.’

‘I don’t
know
him know him.’

‘Well, what do you know, Todd?’

‘Nothin’. I don’t like him.’

‘Why don’t you like him?’

Todd shrugged again.

‘You’ve been seen talking with him, Todd.’

‘Talking
at
him,’ Todd objected. ‘I talk
with
my friends. He’s not one of them.’

‘What did you talk
at
him about?’

‘Well, I tell him to get out of my way. To stop hoggin’ my oxygen. To get lost.’

‘I understand you harassed him a lot. Why was that?’

‘He was taking up space. He was a useless consumer of oxygen. Why else?’

‘When is the last time you saw Dylan?’

‘How am I supposed to know? I try to ignore him.’

The deputy slapped an open palm on the desk in front of his son. He let the concussive sound reverberate a moment before he spoke. ‘Todd, we are not playing games here. This is serious business. Some people have pointed the finger at you saying you killed the O’Hara boy.’

‘I want a lawyer,’ Todd said.

‘Don’t be stupid, Todd,’ the deputy said.

‘I may be your son but I still have my rights. I want a lawyer.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. You haven’t been charged with anything. But if you don’t straighten up and start answering this man’s questions, I’m apt to get arrested for assault. You understand me, boy? Now sit up in that chair.’

Todd slouched down a little further. He was now at an extreme angle, his head on the back of the chair, his heels propped up. Jake wondered how long he could hold that position without sliding down on the tile floor.

‘Dad, do you really think that somebody from the FBI comes down to this rat-trap town out of the goodness of his heart?’

‘Yes, I do. Now answer the man’s questions.’

‘I don’t believe you, Dad. You’ve always told me that the FBI is a lying bunch of shits. You always said you can’t trust them past the tips of their noses. You told me you’d never willingly help one of those s.o.b’s if you could help it. And now that they’ve got their sights on your own kid, you’re acting like this jerk is your best friend. You’re such a hypocrite.’ Todd straightened up with a smug smile on his face.

The deputy raised his arm in the air as if to strike his son then lowered it and shoved his hand deep into his pocket. ‘I’m sorry, Agent Lovett, my son has turned into a real shit.’

Jake nodded and turned to Todd. ‘Listen, if I walk out of here with my questions unanswered, you will remain a person of interest in this investigation.’

Todd shot to his feet and faced his father. ‘I told you I didn’t kill that dweeb. I wouldn’t waste my fucking energy. I want to go back to school. I’m going to miss my civics test.’

‘Sorry again, Lovett. I’m sure he’s telling the truth about not killing the boy but I can’t say I can vouch for anything else including his sudden concern about academics.’

Jake nodded and watched father and son walk out of the interview room. Before the door closed behind them, Jake saw the deputy cuff his son on the back of the head. Todd squealed as if he’d been stabbed.

The agent wasn’t sure if that meeting had been productive or not. If it had been murder, the boy’s lack of cooperation made him look as guilty as sin. But that was the problem. Was it murder or suicide?

He called Becky Carpenter’s mother, who agreed to bring her daughter into the sheriff’s office after school. He hoped that interview would be more obviously helpful but he doubted it. He had higher hopes for the appointment he had with Jane Salvadore, Dylan’s guidance counselor.

TWENTY-TWO

L
ucinda bent under the yellow tape on the front porch of the Eagleton home, unlocked the door, removed the seal and stepped into the foyer. The home had a hollow feeling, as if she could feel the presence of the woman of the house fading away as if she never existed.

She’d been through a family photo album and knew there had been happy times here – adult parties, birthday parties for the kids, Christmas gatherings around the tree. She’d seen unexpected snapshots of Candace and Frank showing expressions of delightful surprise. Where did it all go? Is happiness that fleeting? Is love always doomed to die? A vision of Jake flashed across her mind and she tucked it away.

She sighed, turned and left the house. She ripped off the yellow tape and dialed Eagleton’s office number on her cell. ‘I have a message for Frank Eagleton.’

‘Would you like me to put you through?’

‘No. Just tell him law enforcement has released his home. He can go back any time he wants.’

Back at her office, Lucinda asked for background information on Scott Technologies from the research department. Lara said, ‘You’re going to get an avalanche. That place has been in the news a lot lately.’

‘Why?’

‘Their CEO is running in the Senate primary.’

‘The woman in the race?’

‘That’s the one. Tess Middleton. Do you want me to weed out anything connected to the election?’

‘Yes. No. Abstract the essence and send it all on.’

‘You got it, Lieutenant.’

Next, Lucinda rang Audrey Ringo to check on the toxicology results. She knew it was too early to expect anything but miracles did happen.

Audrey’s irritation was evident the moment she asked: ‘Do you think I’m a magician?’

Lucinda sighed. ‘What’s the latest from your oncologist, Audrey?’

‘Doctor Ringo, if you don’t mind, Lieutenant. Who told you I have an oncologist?’

‘Everybody knows, Audrey. Your bout of breast cancer is not a secret.’

‘It is, too. If I hear anyone else speak of it, I’ll know they got it from you. And you will regret that,’ the lab director shouted into the phone, then slammed down the receiver.

Lucinda sighed again. No good deed goes unpunished. Last time I show concern for the health of that red-headed witch. She looked at her watch. Time for her appointment with the district attorney.

When she walked into Michael Reed’s office, he looked up and said, ‘You just can’t pass up an opportunity to make my job difficult, can you?’

‘I imagine that means you’ve heard about the stay.’

‘Why didn’t you come to this office first?’

‘It seemed so routine, Reed. I didn’t think I needed the big legal guns.’

‘Well, obviously you thought wrong. They are so connected. I got a call from the mayor, three councilmen and even an underling at the governor’s mansion. Scott Technologies is a sacred cow. Do you know how much money they bring into this state?’

‘I never considered money more important than a person’s life.’

‘There you go again – acting all self-righteous on me. Any time a little political maneuvering is in order, you get on your high horse and act like you’re too good to sully your hands with diplomacy. What am I going to do with you, Pierce?’

‘I’ve never shied away from diplomacy, Reed, but I will not compromise my principles nor curtail my investigation of a homicide simply because it’s not politically convenient for your office. Is Tess Middleton among your campaign contributors?’

‘That is irrelevant.’

‘Is it? And is she?’

Reed pursed his lips. ‘Yes. If you must know, she has given to my campaign in the past. Not this year, though. She’s funneling her money into her own campaign.’

‘Are you supporting her?’

‘Does that really matter?’

‘I think so. Full disclosure and all that.’

‘They’ve asked but I haven’t endorsed anyone yet. I need to back the winner, whoever that will be. Right now it’s too close to call.’

‘If the odds look better, you might want to think about it a bit. I got the impression from the corporate attorney that there has been quite a bit of law enforcement interest in her company. Might not look good if you endorse her one day and the next someone serves her with an indictment.’

‘Do you know something I don’t?’

‘I’ve told you all I know.’

‘Can you check with that FBI friend of yours?’

‘I don’t think that would be appropriate.’

‘Oh, c’mon, professional courtesy. A little pillow talk and nobody is the wiser.’

Lucinda stalked out of his office without another word. She stormed down the three flights of stairs and into her office. She wished she had a door on her cubicle so she could slam it. How dare he bring my personal life into an investigation? How dare he be so presumptuous to assume I am sleeping with Jake? She folded her arms across her chest and stewed for a moment.

She badly wanted to snap at someone to release her pent-up anger. Unfortunately, Kristen took that moment to step into the doorway of her office. ‘Lieutenant, someone called for you while you were upstairs. He sounded very angry.’

‘Who was it?’

‘He didn’t leave his name.’

‘Then why are you even telling me? What purpose does it serve? Someone else is pissed at me. So what? Can I figure out the reason why without knowing who it is? No. Next time, get the name.’

‘I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I—’

‘Sorry doesn’t solve the problem, does it, Kristen?’

The moment Kristen stepped back into the hall Lucinda regretted venting on the poor, underpaid, overworked staffer. She picked up the phone and called the Giant Cookie Company. For a fee, they would take rush orders. She asked them to write Kristen’s name on the cookie and attach a note that read, ‘I’m sorry, Kristen. Lieutenant Pierce.’ They promised to deliver within the hour. Lucinda hid in her office until they did.

Busy with paperwork, she almost paid no attention to the squeal of delight from the front desk. She stood up and stepped into the hall just in time to collide with an excited Kristen. ‘You’re forgiven, Lieutenant. Nobody has ever done anything so sweet for me before.’ She wrapped her arms around the detective and gave her a hug. Lucinda felt even worse now. No one has ever been that nice to her? And I had to chew her ass out without cause before I was?

Awkwardly, Lucinda patted the receptionist on the back. Kristen skipped back up the hall, pausing at the corner to wave her fingers back at her and shout, ‘Thank you!’

Lucinda returned to her paperwork and was just about caught up when her cell phone rang. ‘Pierce.’

‘I’ve had it with you, Lieutenant.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You know what I’m talking about. I called you at your office number earlier and you refused to take my call. It took me a while to find your damned card with your cell phone number on it.’

Am I supposed to apologize because Frank Eagleton can’t keep his collection of business cards straight? Lucinda wondered. ‘I wasn’t in the office earlier.’

‘Then why didn’t you return my call?’

‘Because you didn’t leave your name, Mr Eagleton. All I knew was that an angry person called.’

‘I guess that means I’m not the only person you’re harassing this week. Gee, and I thought I was special.’

‘Mr Eagleton, all I did was call and leave a message with your secretary to inform you that your house had been released and you were free to occupy it again.’

‘Oh, yeah, the timing of that was a dead giveaway.’

‘Mr Eagleton, you are not making any sense to me.’

‘Right. Play dumb. You lured me to my home so you could sic your goon on me. And he can act all innocent while he asks to speak to my wife. My dead wife. That’s sick, Lieutenant.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I know you sent him over here. You are so transparent.’

‘Mr Eagleton, I sent no one to your home. Did a police officer come there?’

‘As if you don’t know. No, Lieutenant. He was wearing a sheriff’s department uniform. But that didn’t fool me. I know you sent him. I know you guys all stick together. And I’m warning you. When I said if you wanted to talk to me you needed to go through my attorney, I was serious – dead serious. And if you or one of your goons bothers me again, we’re going to file a lawsuit against you and your department.’

‘Mr Eagleton, please,’ she said before she heard the dial tone. She stood for a moment, lost in thought. What did it mean? Did someone from one of the sheriff’s departments stop by his house? If so, why? Or did someone connected with Candace’s death visit posing as a deputy? If so, what did they want to know? Is Frank’s life in danger? Or is Frank just full of crap? She brought up the area law enforcement directory on her computer.

TWENTY-THREE

J
ane Salvadore’s office was a refuge of neat located through a door behind the counter in the chaotic main office of the high school. Neat enough, Jake thought, to be obsessive. The woman herself was just as tidy and picture perfect. Her nails cut close and freshly manicured. Her hair coifed just so with every strand in place, and an understanding smile spread across her face.

When Jake mentioned Dylan, her expression fell into a frown. ‘That poor boy,’ she said. ‘He was so troubled.’

‘What was bothering him?’

‘I never could figure that out. I opened doors for him to talk to me but never touched any deeper than the surface. But I know he was struggling. It was in some ways typical adolescent angst but beyond that there was something deeper. I suspected it was something for which he had a great deal of shame or anxiety.’

‘What about Todd Childress? Do you know what was going on between Todd and Dylan?’

‘I do know that Todd tormented him. Todd is a bully. He pushes around a lot of kids but seems to lose interest in them quickly. On the other hand, Dylan was his constant target in the last few months. Why? I don’t know. But Dylan seemed a bit more sensitive than the average boy – at least more demonstrative about it – maybe it was that. It was as if he held a painful secret inside that he was afraid to share but somehow Todd knew what it was.’