The Ravine (15 page)

However, since there were no appropriate words for such an occasion, they all took turns hugging one another and mumbling some version of “good to see you, I wish it were under better circumstances.” Carolyn and Maryann held each other for an extra long time and started to weep while they were expressing their condolences to each other.

Maryann remembered all the times Rachael and Carolyn had counseled her on the trials and tribulations of her teen years. She had loved the fact they included her in their circle of two, because she knew it was a very special place. She could tell them anything, and they would always give her excellent advice, of the sort one could expect from older sisters.

Maryann was around five foot ten, with curly dark hair, a fiery temperament, and a slender yet fabulous shape, so back then the phone was always ringing off the hook with a nervous high school boy at the other end of the line. Their inside joke had been that any guy who wanted to take her out on a date first had to obtain the “RC seal of approval,” or else he was out of luck. Now Maryann was twenty-two, engaged, and living with her fiancée. They were expecting their first child in the spring. Just a few weeks ago, Danny and Rachel had mentioned they intended to figure out some way to pay for the wedding that was planned for February. To Maryann, Danny had been her dad and Rachel her mom, and it was well known that the feeling had been mutual.

She was inconsolable. Not only had she been orphaned for the second time in her life less than twenty-four hours ago, but one of her little brothers was also gone, and her youngest brother had experienced something that was indescribably horrible. Worst of all, the cause of this misery was the man she had thought of as her father.

Rachel’s brothers, Pete and Sam, were now both in their early thirties. Rachel kept in touch with them, but, as with many siblings separated
by distance and busy schedules, they would only get together around the holidays or for weddings and funerals. Pete and Sam both had settled in Minnesota after their father brought them back there on that fateful day after their mother’s funeral more than twenty years ago.

Rachel’s father had died in 1999, five years ago. Carolyn remembered the occasion because Evan and Christopher had stayed at the Bianci home while Danny and Rachel were in Minnesota. She remembered how funny Rachel had been when she called to check in on everyone.

“You won’t believe how many people showed up for my old man!”

“What do you mean, Rach?”

“I mean they are lined up in the street waiting to get into this place. They only should have known who he really was back in the day!”

In one of those fascinating twists of fate, Ted McKenna not only had sobered up when he was in his late fifties, but had become a paragon of sobriety. From that time until his death, he helped countless others overcome their alcoholism. Carolyn remembered the day Rachel called her to tell her the news.

“You’ll never guess who just left my house! Never in a million years!”

“Let’s see: Brad Pitt, Tom Cruise, or John Travolta?”

“Nope. Better than that. Ted McKenna!”

“No way, girl! Your father? Just out of the blue like that? Was he looking for money or something?”

Rachel started to cry, so Carolyn let up on the jokes. “Seriously, what happened? Why was he there?”

“Well, believe it or not, he took the cure a few years ago, went to a rehab out in Minnesota, and wanted to see me. So he came without telling me in advance. He was afraid that if he called, I wouldn’t have anything to do with him. I mean, we haven’t talked for fifteen years! So, I answered the door, and there he was! He didn’t want anything; he just wanted to tell me how sorry he was for making a mess of my childhood, and that he wanted to ‘make amends’ and be a part of my life. He had it
written out, and said a lot of things, but he ended with ‘I am truly sorry for abandoning you.’ I never thought I’d hear him say that.”

So Rachel had gotten her father back for the last years of his life and, as it now turned out, the last years of her life as well. It seemed he really had become a different man. Years later, he took her to a little house in Akron where he said Alcoholics Anonymous had started. It seemed like he was old friends with the people who were the caretakers of the place, though he swore he’d never met them before. He was a changed man, and became a loving grandfather.

Rachel’s brothers, Pete and Sam, had been fortunate enough to escape the family curse, and each had become successful in his own right. Normally, Mitch and Carolyn would have found it comical to see them together, because they were such an incongruous pair. Pete was tall and thin, with blond hair, and Sam was dark, short, and pretty thick around the waste. Most of all, however, their temperaments were completely different.

Pete had grown into a fairly conservative family man who made a solid living as a real estate lawyer, but Sam was independently wealthy. He had skipped college to play in rock bands, and then opened a recording studio. One day he got a call from Jerry Garcia’s manager, wondering if Sam could squeeze in Jerry and a few buddies later that day. Jerry cut three tunes, credited Sam’s studio as the “best in the Midwest,” and the rest was history. Sam had a magical ear when it came to picking artists and had made a fortune staying ahead of the curve. He was opinionated and often disagreed with conventional thinking, which sometimes got him into trouble. Carolyn and Mitch hadn’t seen either of them since Danny and Rachel’s wedding, and, under normal circumstances, it would have been great to catch up. But today they all briefly hugged and made small talk in a fruitless attempt to overcome the awkwardness of the moment and to delay the true purpose of their visit. But, inevitably, the meeting had to begin.

Tom ushered them into his dining room and introduced his wife, Anna, whose puffy eyes betrayed her true state of mind, though she was determined to play the part of the hostess, in an attempt to make everyone feel as comfortable as possible. She had an array of pastries on the table and offered coffee all around.

When Carolyn saw the man standing at the end of the table, it was obvious he was the homicide detective. Sometimes life imitates art, and this was one of those cases. He was clearly sent from central casting.

Detective Dave Thompson was a tall, middle-aged, handsome black man, graying at the temples, with a matching, perfectly trimmed mustache. He wore black-rimmed reading glasses, which he nervously took on and off a few times as he greeted the visitors. His finely tailored charcoal suit, white shirt, and deep-blue tie with a perfectly wrapped Windsor gave him a dignified air. Mitch didn’t get close enough to tell for sure, but he detected a hint of elegant cologne. He reminded Mitch of an older version of the right fielder and clean-up hitter from his varsity team and struck him as someone he would have gravitated toward had they been at the same cocktail party. However, he clearly wasn’t there to make chit-chat. After all the introductions were completed, Thompson began. Though murder was rare in this suburb of Akron, he was a pro who had done this sort of thing before. The look on his face and his demeanor, however, made it clear this was not some run-of-the-mill barroom fight gone awry. He stood up and cleared his throat.

C
HAPTER
9

Betrayal

The trust of the innocent

Is the liar’s most useful tool
.

—Stephen King

“P
LEASE ACCEPT MY
condolences,” the detective began. “I’m truly sorry that we have to meet under these circumstances, and I know this is very difficult for all of you, so I will try to be as brief as possible. I should be clear that I can only release a limited amount of information, and I must also insist that you keep the details of what I tell you to yourselves, because it is privileged information, and once the media gets a hold of some of these details, they are going to have a field day.”

They were all arrayed around the table, expecting to hear a simple yet awful story of a husband who lost it and went on a rampage with tragic results. Dave Thompson knew the truth was far worse, and so he hesitated, trying to find the right words with which to honestly convey such devastating information with the appropriate degree of sensitivity. That last comment, about the media, brought a gasp from Maryann, and everyone leaned in a little closer.

Mitch noticed the badge clipped to Thompson’s belt when he stood up. It read “to protect and serve.” At his hip was a small holster with a silver chrome-and-black-trimmed pistol poking out. There was something final and deadly about the weapon. No doubt it was loaded, and
no doubt it had been used over the years. Carolyn reached for Mitch’s hand under the table and squeezed it tightly, bracing herself for what was to come.

Carolyn happened to be sitting just to Thompson’s left, and when she glanced down and looked at the briefcase at his feet, she noticed a red file sticking up above the rest, labeled “Rachel and Evan Turner Homicide.” Next to it was a blue folder labeled “Daniel Turner.” How could these three lives be reduced to a few file folders? She shuddered to think of the pictures they might contain, and hoped nothing of that sort would be shown to the group. Then she realized that she needn’t fear anything of the sort, but she was getting used to having crazy thoughts. The room was thick with anticipation as Thompson began to speak.

“I was going to meet with just the family members down at the station, but due to the influx of media in town, I asked Tom if he and Anna would be kind enough to let us meet here.”

“We’re happy to do it,” Tom replied.

“I’ll start at the beginning, and I invite you to stop me to ask questions at any point. According to the statement given by Maryann Turner, who is Danny and Rachel’s adopted daughter,” he paused as he glanced at her, “and, as you know, Rachel’s cousin, the last time she saw Danny Turner alive was at approximately 7:30 p.m. on the night of Tuesday, November 16, when Mr. Turner left the Turner home to drive to a Steve’s Sporting Goods store that he managed in Copley for the stated purpose of firing Logan Vonda, an employee who was caught stealing by use of the video monitor.

“Previously that day, according to Maryann, Danny called and requested that she come to the Turner home to pick up his and Rachel’s two boys, Evan and Christopher, and bring them to her apartment for the night. Danny asked her for this favor because he told her that Rachel would be coming home late from Cleveland, and he wanted her to get
a good night’s sleep because she was scheduled to start her new job the next day, meaning Wednesday morning.

“Maryann arrived later than planned, at approximately 7:00 p.m., by which time Rachel was just a short distance from home. Rachel arrived home at approximately 7:15 p.m.” The detective paused and asked, “Maryann, am I correct so far?”

“Yes, inspector, and he also kissed her on the cheek and congratulated her on passing the exam.”

Silence.

Then Pete looked at her and said, “You can’t be serious!”

Maryann nodded and then slammed the table, crying out, “That lying phony, how could he?” Detective Thompson let the moment pass without comment.

Then he continued. “Maryann told us she didn’t notice anything strange or different between him and Rachel. It seemed just like any other night, without any particular tension. After Danny left to go to Copley, Rachel and Maryann decided the boys would not go to her apartment that night.”

Thompson paused for a moment and wiped his brow. “Could I trouble you for a glass of water, Mrs. Schroeder?” Anna was quick to jump to her feet and fetch the water. Once she was seated, Thompson took a large sip, cleared his throat, and was about to start again when Sam interjected.

“So, you’re saying Danny thought the boys were going to be with Maryann when he went to go fire this store clerk?”

Thompson thought for a second and said, “We can presume that, but we don’t know for certain. I will try to present the facts as we know them based upon the information provided to us by the people who were participants. I would prefer to avoid making presumptions, but it’s likely you are correct.”

Detective Thompson continued, “At approximately 8:45, when Maryann left the Turner home, she drove past Rayburn Senior Center, and saw Danny and another man, whom she recognized as Logan Vonda, sitting in Danny’s truck, talking and apparently drinking coffee.” Thompson turned again to Maryann. “They were in the parking lot facing the street, according to our notes; is that correct, Maryann?”

“That’s right,” she answered. “I didn’t think much of it at the time, except that I thought it was weird that if he had just fired Logan over in Copley, that they would be sitting together in Danny’s truck, just down the road, but I forgot about it in a minute and just went home. If only I would have pulled in and asked what was going on!” Pete and Sam assured her she did the only logical thing she could do at the time.

“No,” Maryann protested, “I should have known something was fishy. Danny had had to fire a lot of guys over the years because someone was always doing something to get fired, and I knew it was probably true about this guy Logan, because I’d worked with him one summer, and I knew he was into petty stuff. When he had to fire someone, Danny would do it nicely, but he would always walk the guy to his locker, make him pack up, promise to send the last check, and get him out of the store as soon as possible.

“For a second I thought about turning into the parking lot, but then I figured I would embarrass Logan, so I kept on driving. If only I would have pulled up! If only I would have insisted the boys stay at my place that night, at least Evan . . .” Maryann shook her head furiously, got up, and ran into the kitchen, followed by Anna.

Before starting again, Thompson paused and looked at the faces around the table. Mitch stared at him impatiently, but was uncertain he wanted Carolyn to hear the rest of the story because he knew the worst was yet to come. With Maryann and Anna gone, she was now the only woman remaining at the table. Her nails were digging into his palm, so
he lifted her hand and clasped it between his hands. He could feel her body shaking uncontrollably.