Reckoning for the Dead (20 page)

Jessie grabbed her rental-car keys, checked her Colt Python, and put it back in the holster she carried at her waist under her windbreaker. By the time she got outside, the sun had just drifted below the horizon. It would be dark soon.

When she pulled out of the motel parking lot, she might've missed the headlights coming on as she turned toward the police station, but with her hinky radar switched to hyperdrive, she hadn't missed those headlights at all. She'd picked up a tail again. Someone had been following her since she got to the island, and that old hinky vibe had jump-started a whole new surge of adrenaline. With all that was going on, she'd had enough.

As she drove the speed limit, careful not to spook the sneaky bastard, she made a call on her cell.

“This is Jessie Beckett,” she said as she looked in her rearview mirror. It was too dark to see a face, but a man was driving the truck that followed her.

“Where are you, Chief Cook?”

“None of your business. You still in town, Ms. Beckett?”

“I thought you'd know that . . . since this is your town, Tobias.” Before he found a new way to insult her, she didn't give him a chance. “I have a pretty good idea who killed Angela DeSalvo. And if you have any curiosity at all, you'll meet me in thirty minutes.”

She eyed the mirror one more time as she made a turn, with the truck still with her and not far behind.

“Where?”

When she told him, the chief schooled her in how to cuss, but he didn't say no.

“I'll be there in thirty. And you better be on the level, or I'm locking you up and throwing away the key.”

With a smile on her face, Jessie ended the call without saying anything more. And when she shifted her gaze to the rearview mirror, the truck was still with her.

If she was going to meet the chief in thirty minutes, she had to move quick.

Thirty minutes later

Right on time, Chief Cook pulled his squad car into Sophia Tanner's driveway. Jessie had parked on the road, not wanting to frighten the woman. Living alone on the island couldn't be easy for a woman. When the chief saw Jessie, he shut his patrol-car door and walked over to where she stood.

“Thought you'd be inside, scaring that poor woman. Are you blowing smoke . . . or do you really know who killed Angela DeSalvo?”

“I have a pretty good idea, but before we go inside, I've got a question for you.”

The chief didn't bother to give her the go-ahead. He crossed his arms and cocked his head, waiting for the bullshit to flow, like he was expecting it to. And Jessie sure hoped she wouldn't disappoint him.

She stepped back toward her sedan, twirling her car keys on her finger. “Why did you have someone following me ever since I got to the island? What was
that
about?”

“Following you? What are you talking about?”

When Jessie popped her trunk, she and Chief Cook stared down at a man, tied up hands and feet in Flexicuffs with a gag in his mouth. He was bawling like a baby and was red-faced as a beet. And he didn't have a stitch of clothes on, except for some seriously neon red plaid boxers.

“Now you see, I would've figured this guy for briefs. He one of yours?”

“Jesus, Tyrell, what the hell are you doin' in there?” Chief Cook glared at the man once his initial shock wore off.

“Yeah, that's his name. Tyrell Hinman. You see? I knew you could help me with this.” Jessie fished the man's ID out of her windbreaker pocket. “He's one of your deputies, isn't he? I saw him the day I was at your station. He got me coffee, the sneaky, arrogant, son of a bitch.”

“Is that so, Tyrell? Were you following her?” Cook leaned into the trunk and asked the man directly. When the guy only shrugged and had a hard time staring him in the eye, the chief turned to her. “I swear, Jessie. I have no idea why Tyrell would do such a thing, but I'm getting to the bottom of this, so help me God.”

Jessie wanted to believe him, but there was still so much more he needed to explain.

“Until you find out what's going on, Tobias, I think I'd leave God out of this.”

Once Jessie had gotten a good look at who'd been following her, she recognized him. But the night she'd chased him on foot, he was in civilian clothes, and she hadn't seen his face. Nothing fit until she saw him tonight, after she'd pulled a fast one on him.

She'd run a red light and left Tyrell pinned between two cars. And after she turned a corner and flipped off her headlights, she played cat and mouse with him in the dark. It didn't take much for her to lose him and flip the tables, tailing
him
for a change. After he gave up, he pulled into a parking lot to use his cell phone. That was when she walked up to his car and showed him the business end of her Colt Python.

When she aimed the muzzle square between his eyes, she had one question.

“What are you . . . a boxers or briefs kind of guy?”

Now she had Chief Cook's full attention, even with one of his deputies half-naked in the trunk of her car, all bug-eyed and whining.

“Like I said, I have a pretty good idea who killed Angela, but you and me gotta talk before we go inside. I figure if I give you what you want, maybe you'll give me what I need.”

After the chief nodded, she asked, “What do we do with him?”

Chief Cook grimaced and looked down at his deputy, saying, “Tyrell? You're an idiot.”

He slammed the trunk closed, with Tyrell yelling and pounding his fists as they talked.

“Why did you lie about there being two DNA samples? Mine wasn't the only one.”

The chief's face was dimly lit from Sophia Tanner's porch light, but even in the dark, she saw that she'd surprised him.

“And that other sample had a 95 percent probability of matching mine. Do you have any idea how scared I was that the sample belonged to Danny Ray Millstone? After all he did to me, the idea that he could have been my father tore me up. And you kept your mouth shut even after you admitted checking into the Millstone investigation. Why did you lie about all that?”

“Look . . . you don't understand.”

“Apparently, I don't. Explain it to me.”

Tyrell had been banging on the trunk until they started talking. When he got quiet, Jessie knew he was listening, too.
The jerk!

“I
did
look into the Millstone case. And when I made the connection to you, I wanted . . .” Cook stalled and avoided her eyes.

“Wanted what, Tobias?”

“I wanted to be sure before I said anything. I knew that wasn't something you'd want to hear. And speculating about something like that would give you some sleepless nights. I didn't want that for you, but I guess that happened anyway.” Cook heaved a sigh. “I reran that unidentified sample through CODIS and NCIC again, but came up dry. That's when I went back to the source. The Chicago PD had the case files, so I put in a request to search for Millstone's DNA the day you got here. I haven't heard back yet, but wait a minute.” Cook narrowed his eyes. “You used the word ‘scared,' as in past tense. You said you were scared that DNA belonged to Millstone. Do you know something about that DNA I don't?”

“Well, yeah. When I had the same hunch you did, I had Detective Cooper pull the records and check Millstone's DNA, compare it to mine. I found out about that today.”

“Guess I don't have your clout with the Chicago PD. I'm still waiting for word.” Cook shook his head. “I knew that detective was a friend of yours.”

“Okay, I pushed to get that done. And I may have some influence with CPD, but why did you lie about that interview being missing from your murder book? What were you covering up? And why are you protecting that woman in there?”

Jessie pointed toward the Tanner house. With their voices carrying in the night, she saw Sophia Tanner at her window, peeking through the drapes. And when Chief Cook saw her, too, he raised his hands and tried to calm Jessie down.

“Keep your voice down. Please.” He shook his head and glanced back at the Tanner house. “I don't know how that interview got misplaced, I swear. I didn't lie when I said I'd seen it. And I wouldn't have marked it on my case map unless we had that interview in hand.”

“You'll forgive me if I don't believe you. You don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to telling me the truth.”

“Guess I can understand why you'd think that, but what I've told you is the honest-to-God truth,” he said. “And if that unidentified DNA wasn't a match to Millstone, then you've got a brother to find.”

“Yeah, I guess I do, but where do I start looking?”

“Let's see if Sophia can help us with that. Maybe all she needs is the right motivation.”

When Cook turned toward the house, Jessie stopped him. “Aren't you forgetting something?”

She nudged her head toward the trunk of her car and dangled her keys in front of him. Without a word to her, he grabbed them and liberated Tyrell Hinman. He pulled his half-naked deputy from the trunk and cut him loose with a pocketknife.

“Get in my squad car and stay there until we're done with Sophia.”

“Yes, sir.” Tyrell had his head down and didn't look up at either of them. He headed for the passenger seat in the front.

“Oh, hell no. You're ridin' in the back. That's where criminals go, Tyrell.”

Jessie couldn't help it. A smile tugged at her lips when she got a glimpse of Tyrell tiptoeing toward the chief's patrol car in his bare feet, but Tobias didn't see any humor in it. He walked with her in silence to the front door of Sophia Tanner's place.

She had a pretty good notion that Chief Cook would finally be honest with her. And if he did that, she might clue him in on who killed Angela DeSalvo.

Chapter 19

“W
hat's this about, Tobias? It's kinda late. Can we do this tomorrow at a more civilized hour? I'm having my dinner.”

Sophia Tanner stood in her front door, blocking the way into her home. And she was hurling every reason she could think of to avoid what was coming. Tomorrow morning might be more civil, Jessie thought, but nothing about this case would even remotely resemble civilized.

“Sorry, Sophia. This can't wait. May we come in?” Chief Cook didn't wait for her answer but took a step into her home, and she backed away.

“But I . . . I'd really rather not . . .”

When Cook didn't take no for an answer, Jessie was close on his heels and stood by him in the living room as the police chief took charge.

“Do you know any reason why Tyrell Hinman was following Ms. Beckett?”

“Tyrell? I don't know. Why would he? And why are you asking me?” The woman's face looked all pious and indignant, but she had a nervous twitch to her eyes that contradicted everything out of her mouth.

“I'm just gonna say this, so we can cut to the chase.” Cook pointed Sophia Tanner to a chair, and said, “You better sit.”

“Tobias, you're scaring me. What's this about?” Her voice cracked, and she fanned her face like she was about to faint.

“I asked you this before, but now I've got to know the truth.”

“Are you insinuating that I . . .”

“Stop this, Sophia.” Cook raised his voice and glared at her. When her eyes grew wide, Jessie knew the chief had her attention. “Just so you know, Tyrell has told me everything. But I told him I wanted to hear your side of it before I pressed charges against the two of you.”

Jessie had to admit that Cook had a real folksy way of interrogating that reminded her of old
Columbo
reruns. He laid on a liberal dose of small-town cop and mixed it with street smarts that came from years of experience. He pretended that he knew more than he did to get her to open up. And from what she saw on Sophia Tanner's face, his tactic was working.

“Charges? What charges?” Mrs. Tanner slumped back in her chair and heaved a sigh. “Please don't arrest Tyrell. He only did what I asked him to do.”

“I'm listening,” Cook said.

“I only wanted to know what she was up to, that's all.” Mrs. Tanner finally turned her attention on Jessie. “You're not an investigator helping with an old case. You've got a personal stake in this, don't you?” Mrs. Tanner raised her chin in defiance. “I asked Tyrell to do me a favor. He really didn't do any harm.”

“But how did you know I was coming to La Pointe?” Before the woman answered, Jessie cocked her head. “Maybe I should rephrase that. The fact that I was coming here wasn't the important thing. You knew
why
I was coming, didn't you? Tyrell told you about the DNA report from the crime lab. That's what triggered all this, but why was I such a threat to you?”

Jessie had made a leap in logic about the DNA analysis, but it made sense. And when Sophia Tanner didn't correct her, she knew she'd guessed right about how she'd found out about the lab results. But the woman was hiding something more than getting a deputy and former coworker to do her a favor.

“Threat? You're no threat to me. I was just curious, that's all,” the woman protested, but Jessie had a hard time believing her. And so did Chief Cook.

“Tyrell tampered with evidence when he took that interview of yours,” the chief said, making a leap of his own that surprised Jessie. “I'd seen that original report years ago, but it's gone now. Why did you have him take it from evidence, Sophia?”

“Tyrell had nothing to do with that. I'd taken it years ago, when I worked at the station. I don't want him charged for something I did.”

“But why? I mean, you gave that interview. Why hide it now? What was in it that you were so afraid of?” Jessie had to ask the question, but after thinking about Sophia's part in all this, she played a hunch. “You saw the kids at the DeSalvo place. You saw me, didn't you? You were the closest neighbor. What did you see, Mrs. Tanner?”

“My interview didn't have anything in it. I only said what everyone else did. With me living so close, I figured that's what folks would expect. And not saying anything about the children would've raised suspicion.”

“I don't believe you. You're hiding something.” Jessie had to work hard at keeping her voice calm and steady. All she really wanted to do was yell.

When the woman couldn't look her in the eye and kept her mouth shut, Jessie took a deep breath and tried talking to her another way. She knelt at the woman's feet and touched her hand.

“I had my childhood taken from me . . . by a man who tortured and abused helpless little girls.” Jessie's voice cracked. “That man took me from my family, a family I've never known. And all I have left is proof that I have a brother. And I think you know something about what happened to us. Why won't you help me?”

Sophia Tanner put a trembling hand to her lips. And tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I want to help. Believe me, I do. But I just can't.”

“You're protecting someone. Why?” Jessie pressed her for more. “You know something about what happened to Angela, don't you?”

“No”—the woman shook her head—“not really.”

She'd pushed Sophia Tanner as far as she would go. Jessie saw it in her eyes. The woman was protecting someone very important to her. And no matter what happened because of her meddling, she didn't look as if she'd say anything more unless she was given no choice.

Chief Cook must have realized that, too.

“I know what you're hiding, Sophia.” His expression softened, and so did his voice. “You may as well tell us what you know. All I need is a court order, compelling you to provide me a DNA sample. Is that how you want him to find out?”

Sophia Tanner's eyes watered as she gasped. She crossed her arms and rocked where she sat, muttering things Jessie didn't understand.

“Him? Can someone clue me in?” Jessie asked.

Cook didn't answer her. He stared at Sophia, waiting for her to break the strained silence. It didn't take long for that to happen.

“You were right about Tyrell telling me about that DNA. He was just passing the time, thought I'd be interested since I used to be Angela's neighbor. But when he told me, I lost it. I just knew someone would put two and two together. And I couldn't let that happen. I told him what . . . what I did. He was only trying to help me . . . protect someone. It wasn't his fault.”

Sophia grasped Jessie's hand and squeezed it. “I'm just so tired. This has been such a burden. I was only trying to . . . do the right thing.”

“I can see that, but please . . .” Jessie begged. “I have to know what happened.”

“You have to promise me that you'll listen to everything I have to say. Please.”

“I promise.”

Jessie could've backed off and sat on the sofa, but she didn't want to sever the tie she had to the only woman who might know anything about her brother. She was so close to knowing something real that she felt a mounting ache in her belly when Mrs. Tanner opened her mouth to speak again.

“Angela had always been a little standoffish. Like I'd said before, we were never close. I'd talk to her, but she hardly ever offered anything personal back. It was like she was hiding from something . . . or someone,” Mrs. Tanner began. “But one day, a man showed up. I saw him from my bedroom window. He had two children with him. And when he showed, Angela argued with him. They yelled so loud that I almost heard what they said, but they were too far away.”

Jessie could have accused her of not reporting vital evidence, but instead of pointing the finger, she focused on the one thing she thought Mrs. Tanner would respond to.

“I bet those kids were scared, seeing them argue like that.” Jessie tightened her grip on the woman's hand. “Was I scared, Mrs. Tanner? Was my little brother scared, too?”

“Yes, you were, at first. But when Angela let him into her house, I figured it was a lovers' quarrel, and everything had blown over. She took you kids in, and everything seemed all right.”

“But it wasn't all right, was it?”

“No, it wasn't. And I was afraid for you kids. I began to watch that house. Angela's visitor scared me. He never acted like any father I ever saw. He ignored the little boy, but he never let you out of his sight. I thought that was strange.”

Jessie shut her eyes, blocking out the images that were flooding her mind, dark memories of Millstone. She had to strain to hear Mrs. Tanner go on.

“Then one day that man's car was gone. I watched and waited to see Angela, but when I saw that precious boy wandering in the field between our two houses without Angela or that man around, I rushed to get him.” When she shook her head and dropped her chin, a tear made a glistening trail down her face. “His little pajamas were covered in blood . . . so much blood. And he was hysterical, crying real hard. I knew something terrible had happened.”

“Did you call the police?” Jessie turned to Chief Cook. “I thought a yardman had found her and called it in.”

Before the chief could speak, Mrs. Tanner broke in.

“I grabbed that boy and held him in my arms until he calmed down. All I could think about was you. I had to know you were all right.” She clenched her jaw and took a deep breath before she went on. “But by the time I got to Angela's property, the police were already there, and it looked real bad. I don't know why I did it, but I clung to that little boy. We hid in the bushes, with me rocking him to sleep in my arms. I hid and watched what the police were doing. I swear, I figured you were all right . . . that they had you, but when I read about the murder in the papers, they never mentioned finding a little girl.”

“The police were right there. You could've told them what you saw.” Although questions flooded Jessie's head, one weighed heavier on her mind. “What happened to the boy?”

It took Mrs. Tanner a long time to answer. She sobbed and looked at Chief Cook, who looked miserable with sympathy for her. Cook knew something about what she was about to say. That was why he'd bluffed her into talking.

“That boy is grown up now. His name is Ethan and he lives in Alaska. He's got a good job, and he's happy.” Sophia Tanner's eyes watered again. “I never told him what happened. I just couldn't.”

“Why? He had a right to know.”

“That boy had a right to a normal life.” The woman raised her voice and glared with a newfound fire in her eyes.

When Jessie glanced at Chief Cook with a puzzled look on her face, he obliged her with an answer.

“Ethan Tanner. He's her son,” he said.

Jessie collapsed back on her haunches and pulled her hand from Sophia Tanner's. And without thinking, she stood and looked at every photo the woman had displayed in her living room—seeing her brother's face for the first time.

In one, he had a white communion suit on. In another, he had cap and gown. Every photo told the story of his life as he grew up. He looked happy, and healthy, and whole. Jessie grabbed the most recent photo and held it in her hands. Her tears splashed onto the glass as she memorized his face and traced a finger down his cheek. He did look happy, and normal, and he was everything a little brother should be in a perfect world.

She clutched the framed photo to her chest and shut her eyes, feeling the sting of tears. If Sophia Tanner had gone to the police right away, Jessie might not have become one of Millstone's victims. The police could've followed his trail sooner, but that would have meant Ethan would have grown up in the foster-care system like she had. And he would've suffered through years of therapy like she did, trying to erase the nightmare of witnessing a brutal murder. Sophia Tanner had done the wrong thing, but Ethan looked happy and normal—and loved.

Deep regrets found a dark corner in Jessie's heart and made the tears come faster, but she had a hard time blaming someone who had raised her brother as if he were her own.

“I'm so sorry, honey. I wish I could have found you, too.” Mrs. Tanner's voice broke through Jessie's profound sense of grief.

“I couldn't have children of my own. My husband had left me for someone who could. I felt like such a failure as a woman, but that day I had a little boy in my arms. A beautiful little boy. And it felt so good to hold him and smell his hair and feel his warm skin as he slept. I couldn't give him up. I just couldn't.”

“I knew Ethan wasn't your son, Sophia,” Chief Cook said. “But you told everyone that a sister you had out of state had died and left him with you. Guess that was a lie.”

“I made up a story about having to leave town quickly. One of my sisters had been in a car accident. I told everyone that I stayed to get her affairs in order. So when I came back with Ethan, no one questioned that. And when I adopted him, no one questioned that either.”

Jessie kept her back to the woman, holding on to the photo of Ethan as Mrs. Tanner told the rest of her story. When the woman was done, Jessie turned to face her.

“I'd like his address.”

This time Sophia stood and shook her head.

“No. That's not a good idea. I don't want him to know who you are.”

“What?” Jessie wiped the tears off her face, glaring at the woman who had stolen her family. “He's my brother. I have a right to see him.”

“You have to understand. It took years for his nightmares to stop. He'd cry himself to sleep and didn't know why, but he was so little, I figured he'd forget. And eventually he did.”

“Trust me, he didn't forget,” Jessie argued. “You can't forget something like that. When I went into that house, I knew I'd been there before because I remembered. Flashes hit me, and I knew I'd been there. You don't forget.”