A Song of Shadows (35 page)

Walsh swore. He’d been so sure that he’d found a way to connect all the pieces. It didn’t take him long to regain his composure, though.

‘Baulman doesn’t matter,’ he said.

‘Really?’

‘The rest of it feels right. We just need another name, but Lubsko remains the common detail. Whatever is happening here, it goes back to there.’

‘Let’s stay in touch, see what emerges,’ said Demers.

‘And Ross?’

‘I’m going to shout so loudly at him for keeping me out of the loop, his phone will melt.’

‘It sounds like a plan.’

‘Then he’s going to shout at you.’

‘I have a plan too.’

‘Which is?’

Walsh abandoned the rest of his coffee. With luck, he’d manage to get a night’s sleep sometime before Christmas.

‘I won’t answer my phone.’

50

R
achel and Sam lived in converted stables adjoining the house owned by Rachel’s parents, although a wood-and-glass conservatory furnished with overstuffed couches and chairs now connected it to the main building. Rachel’s father Frank had recently retired, but continued to work as a freelance consultant in business realms in which Parker had no interest, even if Rachel’s father had ever been bothered to try to explain them to him. Parker had never gotten along with Frank Wolfe. He had been suspicious of the detective from the start, and everything that followed had only reinforced his conviction that Parker was bad for his daughter in almost every way. He made some small concession only for Sam, upon whom he and his wife doted, although Parker was certain Frank had somehow blocked from his mind the fact that Sam carried any genetic material from his daughter’s former lover.

Thankfully Rachel’s old man was absent when Parker, with Angel and Louis as escorts, arrived at the house. Frank had left the previous morning for a meeting in Seattle, and would not return until the weekend. It was doubly fortunate for all involved, because whatever doubts Frank had about Parker were multiplied manifold when it came to Angel and Louis. If he had his way, the two men wouldn’t have been allowed into the state, let alone onto his property.

A white Mercedes CLS-Class Coupe was parked in the driveway outside the house as they pulled up, alongside Rachel’s recently purchased used Prius.

‘A white coupe,’ said Angel. ‘That’s an asshole’s car right there.’

With that, the asshole himself appeared. Rachel’s boyfriend Jeff was about ten years older than she was, and believed that if wealth was worth having, then it was worth displaying. He was all white teeth and prematurely white hair. If the lights went out in a mine, they could have sent Jeff to lead everyone back to safety using only his smile. Parker was self-aware enough to realize that he was still more than a little in love with Rachel, and therefore Christ Himself could have come down to date her and he still wouldn’t have approved of the match. Still, the thought of Jeff and Rachel involved in any kind of intimacy – physical or emotional – caused his gut to tighten. Parker tried to be civil to Jeff for the sake of all involved, but the effort strained his diplomatic muscles to their limit. As for Angel and Louis, they made it clear – on the rare occasions when they were forced to spend time in Jeff’s company – that if they could have gotten away with shooting him and dumping his remains in a swamp, they would have.

‘The fuck is he doing here?’ asked Louis.

‘He doesn’t look happy,’ said Angel. ‘Which makes me happy.’

He was right. Jeff was red with rage, even beneath his year-round tan. He was wearing a yellow V-neck sweater over a pink shirt and blue pants, and was carrying a navy blazer in his left hand.

‘He looks like the father of a groom at a gay wedding,’ said Angel.

Jeff paused as Parker got out of the car. He had to pass Parker to get to his own vehicle, but appeared reluctant to do so, as though he hoped the detective might instead just vanish into the ether, leaving only bad memories.

‘Jeff,’ said Parker, by way of greeting.

Jeff managed to pull together a Frankenstein’s creation of a smile, composed entirely of other unrelated emotions. It lived for only a moment before it collapsed and died.

‘I heard you were coming,’ said Jeff.

‘You didn’t have to welcome me personally.’

Jeff raised his right forefinger and pointed it in the direction of the house. His car keys dangled from his fist, catching the morning sun.

‘They deserve better,’ he said. ‘That child deserves better.’

‘Better than what?’

‘You know.’

His eyes drifted past Parker to Angel and Louis, who remained seated in the car. Angel gave him a wave and a smile, and mouthed the word ‘fuckwad.’

‘And you bring these people here, these—’

‘Careful,’ said Parker. ‘Their feelings are easily hurt.’

Rachel appeared at the door of the house before Jeff could say anything more. Her arms were folded across her chest. She’d been crying.

‘Jeff,’ she said. ‘Just go. Please.’

Parker almost felt sorry for Jeff, but it quickly passed. Whatever had occurred before they’d arrived was serious, and possibly terminal. Now Jeff was suffering the added humiliation of retreating before the three men in the world he least wanted to see at that moment.

Jeff brushed past Parker, got in his shiny new car, and drove away. Parker watched him go. When he looked back at the house, Rachel was no longer at the door.

‘Give us a minute?’ he asked Angel and Louis.

‘Sure,’ said Louis.

‘Is it too early to start celebrating?’ asked Angel.

Parker gave him a look that suggested he would be well advised to keep cracks like that to himself for the present.

‘Okay,’ said Angel. ‘We’ll celebrate on the inside.’

Parker knocked on the door and called Rachel’s name. He wasn’t about to enter a house that wasn’t his own without her permission, not even this one. She called to him from the kitchen, and he found her with her back against the sink, her head low and her shoulders shaking. He walked over and stood beside her, but he didn’t touch her. He knew her better than that.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ he asked.

‘Besides everything you’ve done already? You could shoot me. How about that?’

‘I didn’t bring my gun.’

She gave a short laugh, then just cried harder.

‘Why don’t you go outside and borrow one? They must have a fucking arsenal in that car.’

‘I don’t think they’d let me shoot you. They like you too much. But if you want someone else shot, I’m sure they’d be willing to oblige.’

‘Would they shoot
you
if I asked?’

‘Possibly. You want to tell me what all that was about?’

Rachel wiped her nose on the back of her hand, disgusted herself by what she had done, and reached for a piece of kitchen towel.

‘You know how mad I am at you?’ she said.

‘I figured. I saw it in your face at the hospital.’

‘She could have been killed, Charlie! That man on the beach, she saw him die. She watched him shoot a police officer. And if that dune hadn’t collapsed, he’d probably have killed you, and her as well.’

‘I know.’

She punched him on the arm.

‘What were you thinking, putting her at risk – and yourself?’

‘I—’

‘You what? You couldn’t stand by? You couldn’t let someone be hurt? Christ, I know all that. But
Sam
was there.
She
was your priority.
She
was the one you should have thought about first.’

There was no point in telling Rachel that he had ordered Sam to stay in the house. He should have guessed that she wouldn’t stay. He was familiar enough with her nature by now. After all, it was so much like his.

‘You’re right,’ was all that he said.

She stopped crying, although she still emitted small hiccupping sobs.

‘I can say these things to you,’ she continued, ‘but Jeff can’t – not to me, not to you, and certainly not to Sam. If anyone is going to drag you over hot coals, it’s going to be me.’

‘I appreciate that. Kind of.’

She wiped her nose again, and exhaled long and slow.

‘Go on,’ she said. ‘I know you want to ask.’

‘Ask what?’ he said, with as much innocence as he could muster.

‘Jerk. If it’s over between Jeff and me.’

‘Is it over between Jeff and you?’

‘I think so. I’m sure you’re pleased.’

‘Damn. And I was just starting to like him.’

She gave him another punch on the arm.

‘I hate you. You ruined my life.’

‘Yeah, I’m sorry about that. You want some coffee?’

‘Tea. And you can tell those other idiots to come in now, if you like. But if I catch them gloating, I’ll ram their smiles down their throats.’

‘I’ll be sure to warn them. Where’s Sam?’

‘My mom took her out to buy some pastries when Jeff arrived, and it all started getting heated. I’ll let her know that it’s safe to return.’

Parker set some water to boil for her tea, put some grounds in the fancy coffee machine, then went out to tell Angel and Louis that the coast was clear.

‘So it’s over between them?’ said Angel.

‘Seems to be.’

‘I was just starting to like him.’

‘That’s what I said.’

‘Are we allowed to gloat?’

‘You can try, but she did say something about ramming smiles down throats.’

‘That’s a “No”, then?’

‘I’d take it that way.’

A silver Volvo SUV turned at the gate and came up the drive. Parker could see Rachel’s mother Joan behind the wheel, and Walter the golden retriever – once owned by Rachel and him, but now very much a Vermont dog – occupying the passenger seat beside her. Then, as the car drew closer, he caught sight of Sam sitting belted in the back. As always, his heart lifted at the sight of her, but not as high as before. He was not looking forward to talking to her about what had happened at Green Heron Bay.

51

R
achel’s mother was significantly more tolerant of Parker than her husband was, although it was all relative. She was civil – bordering on polite – but it was clear that Louis and Angel were an added strain on her natural good manners. They behaved impeccably, which was like saying that a bomb behaved well by not exploding.

Sam, though, adored both of them, and even Louis tended to thaw in her presence. She chatted with them about school and TV, and scolded them halfheartedly for feeding scraps to Walter under the table. From a distance, they all looked like regular people.

But Parker noticed that Sam didn’t say much to him. She’d hugged him upon leaving the car, and asked if he was okay, but beyond that she had devoted most of her attention to Angel and Louis, even more so than usual. It was as though she hoped to hide herself from him by pretending that he wasn’t there.

But eventually she finished her milk and doughnut, and Parker suggested that they take a walk with Walter. Walter was more enthusiastic than Sam, but she didn’t refuse, and together they strolled around the Wolfes’ big back-yard.

‘How have you been?’ he asked her.

‘Good.’ She didn’t look at him.

‘I mean, after what happened at the beach. After what you saw there.’

‘Good.’

Maybe, he thought, I should try bamboo slivers under her fingernails, or threaten to sabotage the cable box on the TV. He stopped and squatted before her. She peered up at him from beneath her bangs.

‘Sam, do you think I’m mad at you?’

‘No,’ she said, then offered: ‘Maybe.’

‘Why would I be?’

‘Because I followed you when I wasn’t supposed to.’

‘I’m not mad at you for doing that.’

‘Honest?’

‘Well, I don’t want you to do it again, but you’re safe, and I’m safe. It could have ended badly. You could have been hurt, or worse. You know that, right?’

‘Yes.’

‘So maybe in future, if I tell you to do something, you might think about doing it?’

This time, she generated a small embarrassed smile.

‘Okay.’

‘I do want to ask you something else about that night,’ he said.

Now they were coming to it. He was treading carefully, but he could already sense her retreating, as though she knew what it was that troubled her father.

‘What do you remember?’ he said. ‘I mean, from the time that you came to the dunes. What do you recall?’

She swallowed hard.

‘I saw you kneeling down, and I knew you were hurt. I saw the man with the gun, and then the police officer stood up, and the man shot her.’

‘And after that?’

‘He was going to shoot you.’

‘And were you frightened?’

A nod.

‘Were you … angry?’

A pause. Another nod.

He saw her face again, lit by moonlight, and heard a sound like an exhalation as the dune collapsed.

‘Did you maybe imagine something happening to him, something that would stop him from hurting me?’

She looked him straight in the eye.

‘No.’

‘Sam, you have to understand, I’m really not mad at you. I’m just trying to understand everything that took place. It’s important.’

‘No,’ she repeated, more forcefully now. ‘I didn’t do anything! I don’t know what you’re talking about. Leave me alone!’

She turned and ran, Walter at her heels. He let her go. He couldn’t have chased her anyway. He wasn’t strong enough. Now that he was down on his haunches he struggled to get back up again. Damn, that wasn’t smart. He managed to get himself upright, but his side hurt, and he limped back to the house. He should have brought the crutch from the car after all, but he still hated the thing. He didn’t want Sam to see him using it, so he’d hidden it in the trunk.

Rachel emerged from the back door of the house and walked toward him.

‘You’re pale,’ she said. ‘You need to sit down.’

‘I hate sitting down,’ he said. ‘It hurts. I’m better standing up. Did you see Sam?’

‘Yes. She’s gone to her room.’

‘I didn’t mean to upset her.’

‘She wasn’t crying, if that’s what you mean. She had a face like thunder, but there were no tears. Can I ask what you were talking about?’

‘The night that Earl Steiger died.’