Thicker Than Water (16 page)

“Did Kitty see him, too?”

Joyce shook her head. “I don't think so. I didn't say anything to her. It was too . . .” She hesitated. “I thought about it later, after . . .” Her voice trailed off again.

There had been no mention of this in Ahnert's report of his interview with Joyce. “You didn't tell the police,” Louis said.

She shook her head slowly. “A detective came and talked to me, but I didn't think about it until later, when I saw Jack Cade on television after he had been arrested.”

Louis's pen was poised over the notebook as he looked at her stricken face.

“I never told anyone. I guess I was embarrassed,” Joyce said. “I should have, but I never did.”

“Mrs. Novick?”

They both turned to look at the girl, who had ducked out from under the dryer. “I'm done, I think, Mrs. Novick.”

Joyce looked at Louis, then got up to rescue her young customer. When the girl was sitting back in the swivel chair, Joyce turned back to Louis.

“I've got to finish this,” she said. “I got another one coming in five minutes. Winter Fest dance tonight at the high school. Big event.” She looked wistfully at the girl in the mirror.

Louis rose, putting his notebook away. She followed him out and stood by the door.

“Thank you for your time,” Louis said.

“Are you talking to others?” she asked.

“Others?”

“From the school or the drive-in, I mean.”

“Should I?”

She was chewing on her bottom lip. “What you said about Ray, about him having a crush on Kitty . . .”

“Go on.”

She ran a hand through her hair. “It made me remember Ronnie Cade.”

Louis felt something in his chest, like a sudden extra heartbeat.

“Ronnie used to come to the drive-in a lot in that old red truck,” Joyce said. “The guys laughed at him because the truck had that landscaping sign on it and dirt and bags of fertilizer and things in the back. Ronnie always smelled like that truck.”

“Did Kitty laugh at him?” Louis asked.

“No. But I remember he used to watch her and sometimes he used to stick around when we were closing and ask her to go for a ride.” Joyce's eyes were steady on his. “Kitty turned him down.”

“Was he at the drive-in the night Kitty disappeared?”

“I don't remember,” Joyce said. “It was awful busy that night.”

She was standing there, arms folded over her chest, staring at something off in the distance.

“Mrs. Novick!” The girl with the rollers in her hair was calling.

Joyce looked back at her. “They don't know,” she said softly. “They don't know how fast it all can change. One minute you're singing along to the radio, then something happens and your whole life spins off in a different direction.”

Her eyes welled. “One minute you're fifteen, the next minute your life is over. You know what I mean?”

But Louis didn't hear her. His mind was racing, thinking about Ronnie Cade, Jack Cade and the broken connections between fathers and sons.

“I have to go,” he said quickly, starting away. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Novick.”

“It's Joy,” she said.

But Louis was already gone.

He drove like a madman, the Mustang racing as fast as his brain. He saw it now, saw it clearly. He saw the answer to the question that had gnawed at him from the first day he met Jack Cade.

Why did you take that plea bargain?

I figured it was the better deal. Blood is thicker than water, man.

The scrub land bordering the highway sped by in a blur. The drive from Immokalee back to Fort Myers would take about an hour. Too much time to think, too much time for his anger to boil.

God damn Ronnie Cade.

He had lied. Worse, he had run his own little con game. Conning him with that
I lost my father for twenty years
shit, conning him into believing his life was ruined because his father went to prison. His life had been
saved,
for chrissake.

Blood is thicker than water.
Damn right it was, in ways that Ronnie Cade couldn't begin to understand.

He cut across downtown and picked up 41 North. He was thinking about Joyce and Kitty swimming in the moonlight, thinking about how both their lives had ended twenty years ago, thinking about the man who in one instant, had changed everything for them.

It was near three by the time he made his way across the causeway to Sereno Key. He was trying to figure out how to approach this. He told himself to do it like a cop, put Ronnie on the defensive, confront him with evidence, play head games with him and get him to say something incriminating.

But he wasn't a cop. And maybe for once that was good. He didn't have to worry about privilege and Miranda. And the more he thought about Kitty and Ronnie, and the twisted branches of the Cade family tree, the more he was ready to throw procedure out the window and just beat the shit out of the pathetic asshole.

The sun was low in the sky when he pulled into J.C. Landscaping.

Louis shoved the Mustang into park and got out, looking around. The yard was deserted, the still, humid air heavy with the stink of fertilizer.

“Ronnie Cade!” Louis shouted.

Eric came around the back of the trailer.

“Eric! Where's your father?”

“Around back.”

Louis started around the shed. Jack and Ronnie were working with potted palms, lifting them from small black pots into larger ones. Both were shirtless, their skin brown and wet. Ronnie looked at him, his hair matted against his forehead, his face smudged with dirt.

Louis was staring at both of them. Ronnie must have seen something in his face because he stepped toward him slowly, pulling off his gloves.

“You've found out something,” Ronnie said.

“I sure did,” Louis said.

Jack Cade reached in his back pocket for a cigarette. He watched Louis while he lit it, cupping his hand around it. “So say it,” he said.

Louis glanced at Eric, who was standing there, staring at all of them.

“Tell him to go inside,” Louis said.

Eric looked at Ronnie and Ronnie motioned toward the trailer. Louis waited until Eric was gone before he turned to Ronnie.

“Ever since I met your father,” Louis said, “I wondered about two things. Why he didn't want to talk about Kitty Jagger and why he took the plea bargain if he didn't kill her.”

Louis glanced at Cade. He hadn't moved a muscle. “You want to tell him, Cade, or do you want me to?”

“I told you to leave it alone,” Cade said softly.

Ronnie moved toward his father. “What's this all about?”

“He was protecting you, Ronnie,” Louis said.

“What?”

“Shut up, Kincaid,” Cade hissed.

Louis shook his head. “No, I'm not going to shut up.” He turned to Ronnie.

“You want to tell me what happened that night, Ronnie?”

“What night?”

“April 9, 1966. The night you asked Kitty to take a ride with you.”

Ronnie took a step backward. “What?”

“You cruised the drive-in with your father's truck. You asked Kitty to take a ride with you. What did she say to you, Ronnie, when she turned you down. What did she say that made you snap?”

Ronnie was shaking, looking back and forth between Louis and his father. “I—”

Louis looked at Jack Cade. “You knew all about this, didn't you? That's why you took the goddamn plea, to protect him.”

Cade didn't answer.

“Blood is thicker than water, that's what you said,” Louis said. “You knew they could trace the semen sample to Ronnie if they looked. You knew it and you did it to protect him.”

“What is he talking about?” Ronnie said, his eyes frantic. “Dad, what the fuck is he talking about?”

Cade looked away.

“Dad?”

Louis hit Cade's shoulder, spinning him around. “What happened, Cade?” Louis pressed. “What did Duvall have on Ronnie?”

“I don't know, he never said,” Cade said, his voice flat. “He just said that if I didn't plead he'd offer up another suspect that had the same opportunity and same access to the truck and to the garden tool.”

“Jesus,” Ronnie said in a strangled voice. He turned away, hands over his face.

“What was I supposed to do, Ronnie?” Cade shouted. “What was I supposed to do? I found those panties in the truck! I knew you took it out to the drive-in the night before! I mean, what was I supposed to think? You never brought home any girls. You never even seemed interested in pussy! Christ, I figured you were a fucking virgin or something worse!”

Cade took a deep breath, but he didn't even see the stricken look on his son's face.

“And then I see on TV about the dead girl. What the fuck was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to
think?!”
Cade yelled.

“You should have asked me! Why didn't you just ask me?” Ronnie yelled back.

“Fuck . . .” Cade jerked out of Louis's grip.

“I didn't kill her!” Ronnie shouted. “She was never in the truck! I swear! Why didn't you just ask me?!”

Cade spun back to face Ronnie. “Because you're my son! You hear me, you're
my
son.” He stabbed a finger at his own chest. “Jack Cade's son! You get it?”

Ronnie just stared at him.

“You got my blood in you,” Cade said.

Ronnie's eyes darkened. His hands curled into fists at his sides.

“You want to hit me,” Cade said softly.

“That's enough,” Louis said.

“Stay out of this, Kincaid,” Cade said. He took a step toward Ronnie. “You want to hit me. Go ahead.”

Ronnie's eyes suddenly welled. “Twenty years,” he said. “Twenty years I've been living in your stink because I thought you killed Kitty. And now you tell me you did it for
me?”

“We've both been living in it, son,” Cade said.

“Don't call me that!” Ronnie shouted.

Suddenly, Ronnie's fist shot out. Cade dodged and it clipped his chin. Lightening quick, Cade's hand came up and smacked Ronnie hard on the face, sending him falling back against the shed.

“Stop!” Louis shouted, jumping in front of Cade. Cade was breathing hard, staring down at Ronnie. Ronnie was just lying there, holding his bleeding lip.

“You ungrateful little bastard,” Cade said.

Louis put up an arm to push Cade back, but Cade swatted it away.

“I told you to leave it alone,” he said. He walked off toward the trailer.

Louis looked down at Ronnie. He wasn't watching his father; he was looking over at the corner of the shed.

Eric was standing there. Louis could tell from the hard line of his mouth that he had heard every word.

The picture of Kitty was lying on his dresser. He picked it up, looking at it. His anger at Ronnie Cade was still simmering. And his imagination was kicking in now, too, flashing ugly pictures across his mind. Pictures of Ronnie Cade, the red truck, and Kitty's bloody body lying in the back of it with the dirt and fertilizer.

He stuck Kitty's picture in the wood frame of the mirror.

Pulling on a clean sweatshirt, he went back out to the kitchen.

It was all there, spread out for Susan to see. The autopsy reports and the police files covered the kitchen table. The newspaper clippings were taped to the walls along with crime scene pictures of the dump. Colored note cards detailing aspects of the case were stuck on the doors of the kitchen cabinets.

He had called Susan's office as soon as he got back from the Cade place. He didn't tell her anything, just that they had to talk. He was surprised when she easily agreed to come out to his cottage.

His eyes swept over everything he had collected. Susan wouldn't be able to put him off now. She wouldn't be able to turn a blind eye to the idea that whoever killed Kitty also killed Duvall.

But she still wasn't going to like it. Especially when he told her about Ronnie. It was going to throw a major wrench into her defense. To get Jack Cade off, she was going to have to make his son a suspect. If Cade didn't fire her first.

A crunch of gravel on the drive drew Louis's eyes to the open window. He recognized the diesel wheeze of Susan's old Mercedes and went to the screen door. The headlights went out and he saw her door open. He was shocked to see Benjamin get out of the passenger side.

“Okay, I got here as quick as I could,” Susan said, coming onto the screened porch.

Louis couldn't hide his annoyance as he nodded at Benjamin, who was hovering behind Susan, looking around at the cottage with bored eyes.

“I had to pick him up from his saxophone lesson after work,” she said.

Louis shook his head, as he led her inside the cottage.

“I'm really tired and I wasn't about to drive all the way home and back out here,” Susan said. She motioned to Benjamin to sit. He flopped down on the couch.

“We need to talk about Kitty,” Louis said, lowering his voice.

She sighed. “Kincaid—”

“I found out why Cade took the plea.”

She stared at him. Then she turned to Benjamin. “Ben, Mr. Kincaid and I have to talk. You mind waiting out on the porch?”

He gave her an exasperated look. “What am I supposed to do out there?”

“Go get your sax and practice.”

“I just got done playing. My lips will fall off if I play anymore.”

“You have two choices, Benjamin. The porch with your sax or lifelong groundation.”

Benjamin slunk off toward the car to get his saxophone.

Susan slipped her purse strap off her arm and dropped it into a chair. “Okay, talk,” she said.

“Cade took the plea to protect Ronnie,” Louis said. “He thought Ronnie killed Kitty.”

Her face registered astonishment, then something else that Louis couldn't quite decipher. Irritation, probably, just as he expected.

“How did you find this out?”

He told her about his meeting with Joyce Novick and what she had revealed about Ronnie. When he told her about his visit to the Cade place, her expression turned from irritation to exasperation.

“You should have gotten some proof before you went storming over there,” she said. “You have any idea what a bad spot you've put me in?”

“I'm sorry,” he said.

She turned, smoothing her hair, frustrated. “Why would Cade think his own kid killed Kitty?”

“Duvall told Cade that if he didn't plead, he would offer Ronnie up as a suspect. Cade must've gotten nervous and pled to keep his teenage son from going to prison.”

She drew her lips into a line. “You're telling me Duvall forced Cade to plead, knowing he had another suspect? No lawyer would do that.”

Louis nodded. “It explains why he never submitted the vaginal report.”

Her eyes flared. “Maybe Duvall never submitted it because it was the same as the damn panties—O-positive.”

“The prosecution never submitted it either and if it was O-positive, it cemented their case against Cade.”

“How do you know they never submitted it?”

“I read the trial transcript.”

She looked at him, stunned. Then she shook her head. “Do you believe Ronnie killed Kitty Jagger?” she asked.

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you believe Ronnie killed Spencer Duvall?”

Louis drew in a breath. “I don't know.”

“You're blowing your theory,” Susan said. “I can't use any of this and all you've done is rip that poor family apart even more.”

Louis started to strike back, but he saw her looking at the files spread on the table. He watched her eyes as they swept up to the cards taped to the cabinets and all the photos taped to the walls. Then they came back up to Louis's face.

Susan picked up Kitty's autopsy report. “God, Louis,” she said quietly. “What are you doing here?”

“My job,” Louis said.

She set the report down, without looking at Louis. The low wail of a saxophone drifted in from the porch. Susan rubbed her eyes.

“Where's your john?” she asked, not looking up.

Louis pointed toward the bedroom. She got up and left without saying a word.

He went to the refrigerator and got himself a beer. He stood at the window, listening to the moan of Benjamin's sax mingle with the rustle of the wind in the palm trees.

When he tipped his head back to take a swig of beer, he saw Susan standing at the door of his bedroom. She was holding something, her brows knit. It was the snapshot of Kitty Jagger in the pink bathing suit.

“This is her, isn't it?” Susan asked.

“Kitty,” he said. “Her name is Kitty.”

He felt a twinge of annoyance, like Susan had somehow violated his privacy by taking the snapshot off the mirror. He held out his hand.

When she hesitated, he took the picture. He looked down at Kitty's face. It was easier than looking at Susan's.

“I have something to tell you,” she said quietly, sitting down at the table.

“What?”

“Sit down, okay?”

He slipped into the chair across from her.

“I was going to tell you tomorrow at the office, but when you called, I thought I'd better come out here tonight and tell you in person.”

Louis leaned back in the kitchen chair, his grip tightening around the beer bottle.

“Jack Cade wants you gone,” Susan said.

“Gone? What, fired?”

She nodded. “He said—”

“What did you tell him,” Louis demanded.

“Kincaid—”

“What did you tell him, damn it?”

“When he called me, I asked him why, but he wouldn't tell me. Now I know.” Susan looked away. “I'm sorry, Louis, this is Cade's call, not mine.”

Louis slammed the bottle on the table and jumped up. “You're firing me? I don't fucking believe this.”

The saxophone playing stopped suddenly. Susan glanced out toward the porch, then looked back at Louis.

“I don't have any choice,” she said, her voice low. She paused for a second. “It's better this way.”

“Better for who?” Louis said.

“Don't yell at me, Kincaid.”

“Better for who?” Louis repeated.

“Everyone. Cade, me. And you.”

Louis shook his head. “Don't you see what Cade is doing, Susan? He's protecting Ronnie again! He doesn't want me going after him.”

“Louis,” she said firmly. “It's my job to protect Jack Cade. And that is what I have to do.”

“So you're going to just ignore everything I just told you?”

She was looking at the door. Benjamin was standing in the doorway, holding his saxophone, watching them both.

“Go get in the car, Ben,” Susan said.

“We going home?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes. Go wait in the car.”

Ben glanced at Louis, then turned. Louis watched him pack the sax back in its case and head out to the Mercedes. Susan rose, went to the chair and picked up her purse, taking out her keys.

“I'll try to get my boss to pay you through the end of the month,” she said.

“Don't bother,” Louis said.

Susan hesitated in the doorway. “Look, you did good work for me. That stuff about Hayley and Candace, I can use it.”

“Winning the case, that's all it's about to you, isn't it?” Louis waited for her to fight back.

But she didn't. There was no fight in her eyes. All that was left was something perilously close to pity. Her gaze dropped to the picture of Kitty still in his hand.

“You can't save her, Louis, it's too late.”

Louis tossed the picture down on the table. But he still couldn't look Susan in the eye.

“Your son's waiting,” he said.

She started to say something but didn't. He didn't see her leave, just heard the slap of the screen door.

Save her?
She was already dead, for God's sake. He knew that. Didn't he? Or was he starting to hear her talking, just like Bob Ahnert had warned?

He heard a ringing somewhere in the back of his mind and it took him several seconds to realize it was his phone. He grabbed it.

“Louis? It's Vinny.”

“What do you got, Vince?” Louis asked.

“I got nothing. No report, no sample. They said the policy back then was to return or destroy everything after a few years.”

“Damn it.”

“Yeah. Sorry, Louis.”

Louis hung up, letting out a long breath. He went out on the porch. Through the gray mesh of the screen, he watched the red taillights of the Mercedes disappear down the dark island road.