October Snow (47 page)

Dave directed him turn-by-turn to Plymouth Street. Will could see the flashing lights from two streets away.

He had to pull over at the corner, where a small crowd of neighbors had gathered, a low hum of horrified chatter circling among them. Yellow tape cordoned off the house, and he scanned the yard, looking for Dave and Maxine. “Dave!” he shouted as he recognized him, sitting on the porch railing with his arm around Max.

They came slowly down the walkway to him. Dave held Max tight against him, shielding her face from the shrouded form on the lawn. The three of them were quiet for a moment, then Will lifted the yellow tape for them, taking Max’s arm to steady her.

She looked up at him with eyes he knew he would never forget. “She’s dead.”

He knew already, but the simplicity of the statement took his breath away–and he put his arms around her, not knowing what else to do.

He held her for a minute while Dave stared off into the distance. “Thanks for getting here so fast.”

“Yeah.”

Derosa appeared, asking gently if Max would come with him.

“Go on,” Dave said. “We’ll wait at the car.”

With his hand on Dave’s back, Will cleared a path through the growing crowd for him as they made their way to his car, parked in a reckless diagonal across the street. The door still hung open from when Dave had jumped out to get to Max; as Will moved to shut the door, Dave kicked it closed, then ripped off his jacket and threw it to the ground.

He was breathing fast, the veins protruding on his neck and forehead. “I need a few minutes.” He looked down at his feet, his hands clasped behind his neck.

“I’ll wait here for her,” Will said. He watched as Dave walked a short distance toward Elm Street, then broke into a run.

He opened the driver’s side door, sitting sideways with his feet on the road, watching the carefully controlled chaos across the street. A news van pulled up to the curb about a hundred feet down the street; a cameraman and a tall, blonde woman were hurrying to the house, stopping to ask questions of the people gathered at the corner.

Ten minutes later, two more crews had arrived, and Max was walking back to him. She was looking at something in her hands–something that she quickly put into her pocket when she saw Will.

“Where’s Dave?”

“He took a walk.” He glanced down Plymouth Street. “I think I see him.”

They waited quietly until Dave joined them. “I’m going to ask them if we can leave now,” he said, and Max nodded.

She walked to the center of the road, looking at the scene for the last time. Her eyes rested on the blanket that covered Jo.

I’ll wake up in the morning, and I’ll be okay for a second, and then it will hit me. You know that feeling, the way it jars you. We talked about it once, remember?
She lifted her head heavenward, her eyes closed.
What do I do then
?

She slipped quickly under the yellow tape as someone with
Coroner
on his jacket started directing the removal of Jo’s body.

Clumps of her bloodied hair fell out from underneath the blanket as they lifted her onto the gurney. Max put her hand out. “Wait. Please.”

She didn’t know when Derosa had come to stand beside her. “Give her a minute, guys.” They nodded and backed away from the gurney; one of them blinked hard a few times, the other cleared his throat and looked away.

She gently tucked Jo’s hair in again, then laid her hand on the area that covered her head.

Dave was coming back to her, and she looked to him helplessly, shaking her head as he approached. He sounded like he was suddenly a very old man when he said, “We can leave.”

Max was still stroking Jo’s head. He laid his hand over hers and murmured, “Rest now, Jo.”

Max’s tears fell on the back of his hand as she whispered, “Goodbye.”

“Samantha…No, listen to me…I’ll tell you everything when I get there.” He adjusted the phone, and Max could hear Sam’s straining, fearful voice, asking for details. “We’re on our way…About a half-hour. Will’s right behind us, he’s coming, too.” He listened again, and Max heard her say her name. “Right here with me. She’s going to stay with us for a while. Baby, listen–you need to make me a promise…Yeah, we just crossed into Massachusetts. Listen, promise me you’ll leave the TV off.”

Max distinctly heard her reply: she was quiet for a moment, then, “I promise.” She sounded completely flat.

“She’s going to know just from that,” Max said, digging in her pocket as they sped south.

“I don’t want her seeing it before we’ve told her.” The regional news network out of Boston had pulled up to the scene as they left.

She put her hand over her mouth, horrified as something suddenly occurred to her. “Who’s going to tell Matt and Johnny?”

“Derosa was on his way to find them. He’ll take care of it.” He was silent for a minute. “There’s no one else to notify?”

“No. Yes–a sister. Carolyn.”

“Where is she?”

Max realized she had never asked. “I don’t know.” She held Jo’s cell phone in her open hand, showing it to Dave. “Maybe her number’s in here.”

He glanced at it. “What’s that?”

“Sergeant Derosa shoved it into my hand when he asked to talk to me that last time. It’s…” As she opened it, she winced at the drop of blood caked on the interior. “It’s Jo’s cell phone.”

“What the hell…?”

“He found it on the kitchen floor, told me to chuck it into the Merrimack.”

“He took evidence from the scene?”

She shrugged, examining it, checking the missed calls first. “Johnny called her a few times, Becca’s here, you, Sammy…No messages, though.”

“Try ‘dialed’.”

“You, Becca, then Johnny, Matt…” She looked over at him. “Jack.”

He shifted uncomfortably. “What time?”

“Ten-twelve P.M.”

“Doesn’t make sense. They’ll have Jack’s cell–her call will be there.”

She was checking the texts. As she read what Jo had done, she alternated between horror and a sick, vengeful feeling of satisfaction. “Got it,” she said. “Pull over.”

He took the next exit, and pulled into a gas station there. “Let me see.”

She handed it over. “She screwed with him bad.”

His mouth went dry as he read the discussion Jo had edited and manufactured. He looked at Max, confused. “Abortion? What is this? She hasn’t had an abortion…”

“Never happened.” She looked out the window. “She must have gotten ahold of Sammy’s phone, and then sent those to herself.”

He was rereading them. “Sammy was looking for her phone today. She thought she left it at the beach house.”

“She got him, Dave. She fixed his ass good. The baby was his power over Sammy, so she made him think it was gone.” She stepped out of the car to light a cigarette. It was all making perfect sense now, in the rambling, maddening way that Jo always made perfect sense.

“These messages…They’ll be on Sammy’s phone, though.” He looked up. “Where is it? Where did Jo put her phone?”

Max stared at him knowingly. “This is Jo we’re talking about. She erased all of those texts from Sammy’s phone. I guarantee it.”

He was beside her then, leaning against the car. “She had no way of knowing we’d find her phone and get rid of it. Jack will be screaming about these texts anyway.”

“I know. She didn’t do it to hide the evidence of
why
Jack did what he did.”

“Why did she do it then?”

“Think about it. Why did she make this happen to begin with?” She went on without waiting for an answer. “To protect Sammy. Jo wanted to…She wanted to leave anyway, and she needed to go out a hero.” She held up her hand to fend off his question. “I’ll explain that later. It was just a chance that she took, that somehow we’d take care of it. If we didn’t, it really makes no difference anyway to what’s gonna happen to Jack now. He’s going away. But if we were able to destroy this,” she took the phone from his hand, snapping it in half at the hinge, “Sammy will never see what she did.” She stuffed the pieces into her pocket. “She won’t go through her life feeling guilty.”

“It’s still going to come out.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Either way, it gives us an opportunity to protect her.” She gave him a wry look. “Think like a criminal defense attorney. How would you advise him?”

He added it up quickly. “Keep it from going in front of a jury. She nailed him good. Plea it down.”

“If there’s no trial, then there are no hysterical, completely irrational claims of texts–that no one can find–that made him angry enough to kill her.”

“The wireless company may be able to retrieve them.”

“Would you
bother
with that, with the ‘she made me mad so I mutilated her’ defense? After what he did to her?” She remembered Jo’s cynicism toward the court system, and her laugh was bitter, her tone sarcastic. “Jo wasn’t his wife, remember. It’s not as legally acceptable to murder a woman you aren’t married to.”

“So she did all of this for Sammy.” He leaned his hands on top of the car, his head down. “For Tyler, for the baby. For me.”

“She was lost, Dave. She wanted to go.”

“
Why
?”

She wasn’t sure if he was asking her or if he was questioning God. She touched his arm, waiting for him to look at her. “Because the evil was going to stop with
her
.”

He shook his head, not understanding.

She opened her door. “I’ll tell you about it on the way.”

Will was waiting in his car when they got to the townhouse. “I didn’t see your car here. I didn’t want to go in without you, figured you’d be right behind me.”

Dave nodded. “Thanks.” He held his hand out to Max. “Let’s go.”

“You do the talking, Dave. I can’t.”

They looked up in unison as Sam appeared at the front door. She closed it carefully behind her, gazing at them sorrowfully. She had been crying, it was obvious; but she stood quietly, calmly. Her eyes met Dave’s, and she nodded once, opening her arms to him.

Seeing her, Dave felt something break inside him. He bounded up the steps, standing on the level below her as she cradled his head on her shoulder. She looked over to Max and Will, holding a hand out to them, and they stood there together for a while. No one said a word.

Joey Derosa sat in front of John’s house for a few minutes, gathering his thoughts. The lights were on in the back of the building, but it was several minutes before he answered.

He rubbed his eyes. “Yeah?”

“John Andleman?”

“Yeah,” he said again. “Who are you?”

“Sergeant Derosa, Manchester Police.”

John’s first thought was that he was in some kind of trouble; but as he took in the expression on the officer’s face, the hair stood on the back of his neck.

Gently, Derosa asked, “Are you the son of Josilyn Anna Kane?”

John’s eyes grew wide, and his voice trembled as he said, “My brother’s been staying here. Let me go get him.”

Steven Patch was waiting impatiently outside ADA Marianne Armor’s office, drumming his fingers on the top of the briefcase he held on his lap and considering his options. Truth be told, he didn’t much care for the idea of representing Jack Seever, especially in what was sure to be a wildly unpopular case to defend; besides, he thought, the guy was as distasteful as a tick buried in your scalp. And every bit as useful.