Dead Lies (33 page)

CHAPTER 41

A
NNA WOKE TO FIND KREEGER SITTING BESIDE HER BED, EYES CLOSED,
mouth hanging slightly open, head lolling to one side as he subconsciously fought to remain upright. He looked tan, healthy. She smiled. Over the past couple of days she’d occasionally awoken from drug-induced dreams to find her parents, her brothers, her Avondale colleagues and even her ex-husband Jack taking turns in the seat by her hospital bed, but until now she hadn’t seen the detective. She’d been wondering if he’d show up.

She was eager to talk to him about what had happened, now that her fever had broken and she was beginning to feel human again. Casey’s bullet had hit her liver, but it had miraculously missed the major blood vessels, and the surgeon had been able to remove the bullet and patch up the area. And yet after the surgery she’d developed an infection that kept her in and out of a fiery, uneasy sleep for several days. Although the powerful antibiotics had finally kicked in, and the doctor assured her she’d be out of the hospital in a week, she’d never felt weaker or more aware of her mortality.

She was lucky be alive, and she knew she had Kreeger to thank for that.

Anna shifted her gaze to the window, thinking fleetingly of Casey, who’d died instantly from the detective’s bullet. She tried to muster some sadness over the boy’s tragic end, but she couldn’t come up with anything. He’d almost been responsible for leaving Max without a mother.

When she became a cop, she’d sometimes wondered what thoughts would go through her mind if she suddenly found herself in the path of a perp’s bullet—every cop did. Now she knew. Her life hadn’t passed before her eyes like it did in the movies; her only thoughts had been of her sons, the one she was about to leave and the one she’d one day meet in Heaven.

It was dark outside, and all she could see were the fluorescent lights from the hallway reflected in the glass. A quiet hum of activity seeped into the room from the hall, the rhythm of the hospital that was both comforting and disquieting at the same time.

She instinctively glanced at her wrist and was reminded that there was an I.V. line snaking out of her arm where her watch should have been. She didn’t know what time it was; she only knew she felt like she’d been asleep forever. She was also chilly because earlier that morning she’d pushed away the thin cotton blanket that now covered her only halfway. She reached for it, wanting to pull it up, but pain ripped through her side, like slivers of glass piercing her body. She groaned involuntarily, and Kreeger’s eyes flew open.

“Anna…” he said as he pulled himself out of sleep.

“Sorry,” she said thickly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” She took a few slow, deep breaths, and the pain in her gut subsided a bit. She pushed a button at her fingertips that would deliver another shot of morphine into her system. Yesterday a nurse named Marilyn had explained to her how it worked, assuring her there was no way she could overdose because the machine had a time-release mechanism set at four-hour intervals. Too bad each dose was only good for three.

“You don’t have to apologize,” said Kreeger. His chair made a scraping noise as he rose and came to stand over her bed. “How are you feeling?”

Her teeth chattered at exactly that moment. “I’m cold.”

Kreeger gently pulled the blanket to her chin, taking care to avoid touching the wound site, which was covered by several inches of bandage underneath her blue-and-white striped cotton gown. He got another blanket from the closet and laid that one over her, too. “Better?”

“Yes, thanks,” she said, feeling the delicious warmth spread through her body. “Where’s my mom?”

“She went home to feed Max. Your Dad will be here soon.”

“What time is it?”

He glanced at a spot above her head. “Four thirty.”

“In the morning?”

“Afternoon.”

She sighed and realized her throat was dry. She licked her lips and swallowed a few times to wet it. “I thought it was the middle of the night. I feel like Rip Van Winkle.”

“More like Sleeping Beauty,” Kreeger said tenderly. Quickly he added, “You look better today, a little less pale than yesterday. Are you hungry? I didn’t want to wake you when the nurse brought a tray.”

“I’m thirsty. Can you…”

As she watched him pour a cup of water from the plastic thermos on the rolling table next to her bed, she realized what he’d said. She looked better today than yesterday. So he
had
been here. She must have slept through his visit.

He stuck a straw into the cup and held it up to her mouth. She tilted her head forward and took a long sip, wincing a bit as the cold water slid down her throat, sending another spasm of chills through her body. She took another sip and put her head down again. Finally her body began to adjust. “Thanks,” she said.

“You want some more?”

“No, I’m good.” She was warm, her mouth no longer felt like cotton, and finally Kreeger was here and could fill in the remaining holes of the story. Even in her whacked-out state, she’d been waiting for this.

Kreeger made sure there was nothing else she needed and went back to his seat. She said, “Now tell me everything. I’ve heard parts of the story, but I’ve been going crazy here wondering about the rest.”

“I know. I got your voice mail messages,” he teased.

She felt her eyes widen in surprise. So, the calls she’d made in her medicine haze hadn’t been dreams after all. “Sorry,” she said, carefully holding up her arm. “Chalk it up to the drugs.”

“I would have called you back,” he said, “but I’ve been pretty busy the past couple of days.” The detective gave his chin a rough rub, and Anna noticed the circles under his eyes for the first time. The tan had camouflaged them.

“I can imagine,” she said. “Now talk to me. First I want to know what happened in Florida. I was surprised when you showed up in that kitchen.”

“I’m sure you were. And when you’re back on your feet, I’m going to give you a stern lecture about going into an unknown situation without backup.” His expression grew serious. “You could have been killed, Anna.”

“When I got to the house, Web was pointing a gun at Danny and threatening to kill him. I had to step in. You would have done the same.”

He didn’t deny it.

“So, what brought you back from Miami?” she repeated. “And why didn’t you call me?”

He looked apologetic. “I didn’t have a chance. Those call details you were looking for? It turns out Leon had taken them home, and he discovered Casey’s number the same way you did. After he called to update me, I phoned the Marinos to ask about Casey’s relationship with Serena and Bill Vance, and that’s when Mrs. Marino told me about the gathering at the Callahans. I was nervous about that, so I took a chance and called the airline about flights. I found out there was one leaving in an hour and on impulse booked it. Then I had to pack, say goodbye to my daughters and rush to the airport.”

Anna was hurt that he hadn’t made her a priority, but she didn’t want him to know that. “I forgive you for not telling me,” she said lightly, flashing him a grin and adding, “Since you saved my life and all.”

Kreeger shot her a look of relief that made Anna wonder if he actually felt guilty for not calling her—like he could have prevented her from getting shot if he had. But it was a silly thought, and she let it go. There was no way, of course, that either of them could have anticipated what would happen. Kreeger knew that, too.

The look on Kreeger’s face passed, and he gave his brow an exaggerated wipe. “Phew,” he said.

Anna got serious again. “Now tell me, have you talked to Danny?”

“Yes. I mean, Ray Esposito did. I watched from behind the glass.”

Anna wasn’t surprised Esposito had handled the interview. Kreeger had killed Danny’s son, so he would not have been allowed to go near the man. It was a conflict of interest to say the least. “What’d he say?” she asked. “Did he put his son up to all of this?” She recalled how genuinely devastated Danny looked that day they met him at The Grape, and she found it hard to believe that his shock at the news Serena had been murdered had been an act.

“It seems Casey acted alone,” Kreeger responded. “After Lester Malik was killed, I asked a couple of the guys to look into his life, find out where he hung out. They found a lounge Malik frequented in Upton Park, and the bartender I.D.’d Casey. He remembered the two of them meeting at the bar and then moving to a table in back. We think that’s when they worked out the details of the hit.”

Anna nodded, thinking that Casey could easily have passed for twenty-one. Not that it mattered in the kind of place where hitmen hung out. “When did Danny learn what his son had done?” she asked.

“Danny claims he found out a few days after the murders,” Kreeger said, confirming the man hadn’t known anything that day at The Grape. “In fact, he says he didn’t even know about Violet until Serena came to see him a few weeks ago.”

Anna was quiet for a moment as she struggled to connect the dots. “Back up, Jerry,” she said finally. “So, how exactly did Casey get involved in all of this?”

Kreeger nodded like he was just getting to that part. “After Serena told Danny about Violet, she told him she’d consulted a lawyer about getting their daughter back. The lawyer apparently told her the only chance she had at doing so was if Danny agreed to come forward and file a custody suit on the basis that he never gave permission to give Violet up in the first place.”

“Is there precedent for that sort of thing?”

“Jane says yes. The courts usually favor the biological parents, so there was a chance they might have won.”

Anna tried to whistle but failed miserably. In fact, it caused a stab of pain in her side. “But I take it Danny didn’t agree to Serena’s request?” she asked.

Kreeger shook his head. “Danny refused to have anything to do with the lawsuit, insisting his marriage would be over if the story came out. Serena got angry and threatened him. She told him she’d go to Tanya if he didn’t help her. Danny still refused, and he told Serena he was going to confess everything to his wife himself.”

“That should have been the end of the story,” Anna interjected.

“Yeah, but unfortunately it wasn’t, because Casey overheard Danny’s big confession to Tanya and decided to take matters into his own hands.”

“So in a sick way, he thought he was helping his parents,” Anna observed.

“
Sick
being the operative word,” Kreeger said. “Technically Casey
was
sick.”

Anna looked at him questioningly.

“There were some complications during Casey’s birth,” Kreeger explained. “He was deprived of oxygen, and he suffered some brain damage as a result. Later on it became clear the injury had caused both learning disabilities and emotional problems.”

Anna frowned. Web had mentioned Casey’s learning disabilities that day in Starbucks, but he hadn’t said anything about emotional problems. She wondered why he hadn’t told her. “Did people know about it?” she asked, guessing that Web must have known. He was his honor uncle, after all. “Wasn’t he getting any help?”

“His parents had sent him to psychiatrists over the years, but Danny admits the family tried to keep Casey’s problems private. He also insists nobody really understood the extent of them.”

“Sticking your head in the sand,” Anna snorted. “It’s a tried-and-true parental coping strategy. Believe me, I know it well.” She paused and added, “But what excuse does the shrink have?”

“Actually, the shrink probably isn’t at fault. And Casey likely isn’t either.”

“What do you mean?” Anna interrupted. “Was he on drugs or something? You know, I suspected he was using…”

Kreeger cut her off. “No, it wasn’t drugs. Not anything illegal, at least. Tox screen confirms it. But recently Casey had begun taking a new anti-depressant called Pacitrol. The M.E. told me that Pacitrol, along with other depression medications, can cause hostility, aggression and violence in teenagers. I don’t understand the mechanics exactly, but it has something to do with the underdeveloped teenage brain…”

Anna stared at Kreeger in surprise. Could it be as simple as that? Had an anti-depressant pushed a troubled kid over the edge?

“I’m not sure I buy that, Jerry,” she said. “It’s too pat to blame this on a drug.”

“But you would have bought it if the drug was illegal?” he countered. “A drug is a drug. They all alter brain chemistry.”

Anna thought about it for a moment and realized Kreeger was right. Flashing back to the night she was shot, she suddenly recalled something Casey had said to his father.
Serena was going to break our family up. I did what I did to save us all.
In light of what she knew now about the boy’s fragile emotional health, the statement made sense. Web had told her Casey was unusually close to his family—especially his mom—and he had trouble fitting in everywhere else, so his family must have been his only link to normalcy. Then Serena came along and threatened to destroy it.
That
was the trigger that sent Casey over the edge, Anna guessed. The drug must have just facilitated it.

Anna explained her theory to Kreeger, and he nodded as if he saw her point but didn’t think it mattered much anymore. “No one’s going to trial for the Vances’ murders,” he said after a moment.