Hidden Vices (14 page)

“In some ways. I'm not sure how long it will last, but the past few hours were good, really nice.”

“It's going to take time. I noticed the letter I brought from Mrs. McAllister on the mantel. It hasn't been opened yet.” Nappa had whispered his observation.

Megan paused before answering. “Not yet. It's too soon.”

He nodded. “I understand. Back in Narcotics I had a father of a dead son send me a note. The kid wasn't doing or dealing drugs. He got caught in the crossfire, needlessly gunned down.”

“Why the reason for the note?”

Nappa placed the last wineglass on the drying tray. “I held him. He passed away in my arms. His father thanked me for not letting him die alone.”

Silence dominated the conversation until Megan said, “A terrible part of the job.”

Uncle Mike shouted over, “Meganator, how's that coffee doing?” He could probably tell Megan and Nappa were getting serious in conversation and wanted to keep the light mood rolling, especially after their conversation down on the dock earlier.

“On the way.”

The Murphys and Nappa didn't stay much longer after coffee. It was a good hour back to Brooklyn, not taking into account there could be NFL football traffic en route. It was back to the twenty hugs for a goodbye. Uncle Mike donned his Irish cap again.

“That looks good on you. I knew I picked out a good present.”

“I know.” Uncle Mike turned to walk out, then stopped. “Meganator?”

“Yeah?”

He threw a shiny coin at her. Of course she caught it. Turned it over in her palm to inspect what it said.

“It's a blessed Irish coin. Carry it with you.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled, although to Megan it looked like more of a concerned look, the kind her father would give her from time to time. “You're welcome.”

Twenty-Eight

Megan was nearly done
with the cleanup from the Murphys' visit when there was a knock at the door. It was Callie. When he walked in, he commented, “It smells great in here.”

“Family from the city surprised me with an early Christmas dinner. There are a ton of leftovers. I'll make you a plate.”

He waved it off. “No, no don't go to the trouble, Trouble. I'm around food all day.”

Megan stopped clearing and gave him a look as if to say,
Are you fucking kidding me?

“Well, I don't want to be rude.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I'll eat at the counter and watch you play domestic goddess and keep you company.” Callie looked tired, run-down.

“Are you feeling okay?” Megan asked after several minutes.

He was finishing a mouth full of food. “Tired. Between everything with Vivian and the restaurant and your big mouth,” he grinned, “I guess I could use a good night's sleep.” He paused, frustrated. He moved his fork in the air as he spoke. “Plus, I still can't understand why you think the mayor didn't kill himself. It seems so obvious to me.” He sipped his wine waiting for an answer.

“Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. It's just a feeling. They'll run tests and I'm sure you're probably right.”

“You get a lot of gut feelings. What does your gut say about me staying over tonight?”

“Right now, I'm stuffed.” Megan threw a few pieces of turkey Clyde's way. He managed to catch both in mid-air.

“You're avoiding answering.”

Megan was avoiding. Sometimes sex complicated things, and with Nappa being here recently, she felt as though she were cheating somehow.

“Hold on. I know what's going on here. One of your guests tonight was your detective partner from the city! Mr. I Just Walked Off the Cover of
GQ
magazine.” He pointed his fork at her. “Am I right? Yeah. I'm right.”

Megan refused to answer. “Are you done? Next topic.” She started to wipe down the counters. “How is Vivian doing?”

“So so. She's lost a few massage clients over this fiasco so I'm trying to find more hours at the restaurant for her, but then reporters come in and bother the clientele.”

“That's too bad.”

Callie shrugged his shoulders. “It will pick up again once this blows over.” He stopped and became more serious. “Do you think Vivian is off the police's radar or are they still gunning for her? Maybe she shouldn't have admitted going into Campbell's house. I don't know if it was the best idea.”

“You said Thompson was good, one of the best. He enjoyed the camera, that was obvious. I don't think he would have made a decision that ultimately would reflect badly on him.” But Megan had a worried look.

“What's the matter?”

“I'm just concerned about Detective Krause. Her head is in a different place. This is all about her career.”

Callie stared at Megan, hesitant to ask, yet he still crossed the line. “And you? Were you ever like that?”

Megan didn't like the question, and it was obvious by her glare and cold silence.

“No, it's just a question. Don't take it the wrong way.” He knew he'd just made a big mistake. “I'm sorry. Okay? I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking.”

“No, you weren't.” Megan threw the rag down on the counter and walked out of the kitchen.

Callie knew as soon as the question came out of his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say, to insinuate she was anything less than professional. “Damn it.” He followed Megan into the bedroom finding her lying on the bed facedown, staring at her parents' picture on her nightstand.

“I never thought about my career like that.” Megan didn't say it in a pouty way. It was more reflective. “In the beginning, because I'm Pat McGinn's daughter, it was more important to be a clean cop. Do the right thing, prove myself.”

“I know, I shouldn't have said it.” Callie stroked her hair. “I'm sorry.”

“You can't imagine the things I've seen. The horrific ways some people hurt one another.”

“Worse than the videos you watched?”

“My last case was. It wasn't the same kind of violence but, yes, it was really, really bad.”

“What happened?”

“Haven't you picked up a newspaper in the last month or two? I'm not going to talk about it.”

Callie surely knew most of the details from Megan's last case. It was all over the news, but his curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to know how Megan got pulled in, but it was quite clear she would not speak of it. Callie put his hand up the back of her shirt, not in a flirtatious manner, just to rub her back. He knew he'd upset her and he remembered it was one act that relaxed her.

Megan began to fade into sleep while staring at the picture of her parents. Early Christmas cheer was now over.

They'd fallen asleep on top of the blanket fully dressed, and both stirred around the same time thanks to Clyde whimpering to go out.

“I have an idea,” Callie said rubbing his tired eyes. “Why don't we take a few hours. I'll call Jake Norden over at his marina and see if we can borrow two of his snowmobiles. We can go snowmobiling on the lake, maybe get some lunch after. We can have a little time off.”

The thought of downtime interested Megan. It was the main reason she came to Lake Hopatcong, but the word
we
slightly annoyed her. She didn't want to be a
we
with anyone right now, and when she was a
we,
she was terrible at it. Relationships never came easily. She'd find a way to screw them up or let her job get in the way. Or the guy would be a jerk and she'd end up feeling guilty somehow. Who the hell needed that? Then she thought Callie was being nice to try to make up for what he said last night and said, “I guess so. Why don't you make some coffee, contact Norden while I take Clyde for a walk.”

Megan made it down to Leigh's house with Clyde and was happy to see she was out as well walking Lady Sadie. She looked stronger than the last time they'd met up. “Morning, Leigh.” Megan needed to pull Clyde back from Sadie before asking. “How is everything?”

“Well, Billie is more alert today from what Jo said. I was just going to head down to her house and see if her aunt needs anything, give her our number and whatever.”

Megan couldn't believe she hadn't thought of Billie's situation since the previous day. Slightly embarrassed, she offered, “I'll go see her again soon.”

“I noticed you had quite the crowd yesterday.”

“Family came with an early Christmas dinner.”

“You're welcome to join us this year if you like.”

Megan rubbed her belly. “Oh, I appreciate that, but one Christmas is enough for me. Thanks anyway. I need to head back. I'm getting ready to go snowmobiling on the lake.”

Leigh went wide-eyed. “You're brave! Stay away from the boathouses and be careful of the bridges.” Now Megan's eyes went wide. “Oh, I don't mean to make you nervous. It really is a lot fun.” Leigh looked up at the sky. “Gray clouds rolling in. Hope no flurries today.”

“Hope not. See you soon. Oh, and Leigh—you look better today, much stronger.”

“Today is a good day.”

Megan walked back with Clyde and thought about Leigh's fight with cancer, her own fight with loss, and reminded herself what her grandfather would say: “We all have our crosses to carry, Megs.” She was pulled out of the memory when Clyde stopped and stared into the woods. He wasn't growling, but he was extremely focused on an object. Megan rubbed his neck. “What is it boy? What's wrong?” She scanned the area Clyde was centering on. Positioned on a large branch was the hawk she'd seen previously. Megan couldn't figure out why Clyde wasn't barking. After all, the dog barked at wind or dead leaves blowing. “You're okay boy, let's go.” As they resumed walking, Clyde continued to stare back at the creature until it took flight over one of the homes and went out of sight.

Megan and Callie pulled up to Norden's Marina. Callie explained he'd gotten in touch with him. Jake was in the middle of teaching winter ski lessons about an hour away and said it was no problem to use his snowmobiles.

“Jake said all the gear is in the garage.” Callie knew the combination to the home alarm system. They geared up, helmets and all. “Have you ever been on one of these before?” Callie asked patting the seat of the snowmobile.

“Yes, but never on a frozen lake.” Megan adjusted her helmet.

“It's pretty similar, a little slicker but not really all that different. Two rules: One is you stay away from the boathouses. Don't get too close. Even though it's daytime some people don't have their bubbler systems on, so the water looks like it's frozen over. And second, don't go all cowboy on my ass and get up to a speed like Taz.”

“Who?” Megan had no clue what he was talking about.

“The Tasmanian Devil. From the cartoon?”

“Sure, whatever … ”

They pulled away from the marina going a moderate speed at first, then Callie made the play of racing her to the other parts of Lake Hopatcong, stopping in different spots to give her a bit of a tour. First was the lake house Megan was staying in. She got a kick out of seeing the house from the middle of the lake until she thought about the water pulsating under the more than foot-thick ice. She immediately darted forward and Callie raced to catch up. When they were going around a bend, Megan slowed and asked Callie where they were.

“That's Bertrand Island, though it's not technically an island. It's where the mayor lived. Years and years ago there was an amusement park built there, but they tore it down in the eighties.”

“Let's go!” Megan had to admit she was enjoying the change of scenery and the activity. It was a distraction that she needed, not to mention she enjoyed the speed. They covered half the lake with Callie showing Megan the state park, the country clubs, and some of the lakeside restaurants.

After a while, Callie motioned to Megan to check her gas level. She did and it was fine. He pulled alongside her. “Mine is really low. You hang and keep going. I'm going back to fill up.”

“I'll follow you back.”

“Nah, you're having fun and it won't take me long.”

“Are you sure?” Megan wasn't nervous going alone; she was worried he'd run out before he got to refill his tank.

“Yeah, just remember the rules I told you.”

“I'm going to go play ice tourist.” Megan remembered she'd seen two large islands—Raccoon Island and Halsey Island—on a map of the lake in the Macks' home, so she went north to find them. The homes there were more what she expected from a lake house, given they were on islands. She was sure not many people were year-round residents unless they snowmobiled to work. She was circling around the first island when another snowmobiler appeared directly in front of her. The rider wasn't moving, but his
engine was idling. Megan slowed to avoid colliding with the rider. With the dark-shaded helmet, it was difficult to tell whether the rider was male or female. A few seconds later, the rider revved up the engine and charged her like a bull toward a matador.

“Jesus Christ!” Megan swerved and gassed it, going at top speed and nearly losing control of the snowmobile. The snowmobiler came up beside her, inches away from her. The move forced Megan to the right.

Don't go near the boathouses, don't go near the boathouses
continued to echo through her mind as she fought to maintain control.

The other rider slammed into her once and she swerved just a few feet from a boathouse with open water. The only solution she could think of was to brake hard, fast. She wasn't sure this was the smartest moved when it propelled her into a three-sixty on the ice. The engine seized up. She struggled to remain upright as she slowed to a stop in the sudden silence. Megan looked around, but the other rider was gone.

“What the fuck?” She focused on restarting the snowmobile when she heard the other sled. Out of the corner of her eye, the other rider reemerged, circling her like a shark.

“Come on baby, start. Start, damn it!” Megan pleaded.

Still nothing.

The other driver slowed down and again pulled up to Megan. This time she was as motionless as her dead snowmobile. She could still see nothing through the face guard on the helmet. The driver pulled out a long silver knife, waving it at her. The knife was only a few inches away when her engine finally turned over. She tore away, heart racing as fast as she was driving. Megan flew down the lake, blind to her surroundings, wanting only to reach safety.

Where the hell is the marina?!

Finally the shoreline began to look familiar and she spotted Norden's. Megan steered her snowmobile toward it. But being on the lake had distorted her sense of speed. The dock seemed to zoom up on her in an instant, and she realized too late that she was going way too fast.

Megan lost control of the snowmobile and slammed into the side of the dock, flying forward. The noise sounded like an explosion. She hit one side of the dock with her arm and went tumbling down onto the frozen lake. The snowmobile went silent. Megan turned over on her back as she heard Callie screaming. He was running from the garage out to the dock.

“Megan! Megan!” He jumped down on the ice and took off her helmet. “What happened? Are you okay? What the hell happened?” He looked down at her arm. Hitting the dock had torn through her gear and cut into her forearm. “Oh my God. You're bleeding really bad. Come on.” Callie helped her up and back to shore. “Why were you coming in so damn fast?”

It was difficult for her to catch her breath. “There”—she put her hand up to her forehead, trying to gather her thoughts and stop her heart from coming out of her chest—“there was someone out there. I don't know who. Charging at me, trying to force me off.”