Dear Crossing (25 page)

“Oh, sure, like that’s gonna happen. Are you high or something?”

“Hey, Schiller told me I can take Kramer’s son to court—sue the estate for what I’m owed. It might take awhile, but if I win, we use the money to start paying him back.”

“You think your father’s gonna cut you a check, especially with me in the picture? Dream on, Greg.”

“You never know. I’d better not talk to him about it now, though. When I got back to the garage this morning, I leveled with him. He’s royally pissed.”

She stalked off into the living area. “Damn it, Greg, you shouldn’t have admitted it.”

He followed. “If I denied it and they found out different, it would’ve only made things worse.”

Katie looked around the decrepit trailer. “How does it get worse than this? Even rehab was better. A lot better.”

“You should’ve stuck it out there.” The smell of grease and burning egg reached him. He hurried back to the stove. “Hey, Katie…” he called from the kitchen.

“What?”

“The cop kept asking me about that wrench.”

“Yeah, so?”

Greg scraped the crispy egg from the bottom of the pan. “The last time I saw it, it was in the trunk of the car. Do you know what happened to it?”

38

In the Twin Cities that night, Dana rose from a bath, dabbing her body with a sinfully soft towel. She basked in the warmth of a heat lamp, awaiting Paul’s arrival. The upbeat tune she hummed reflected her mood. This victory would be sweeter than most—the mighty Paul Davis coming in defeat to yield to her demands.

She heard a noise coming from the living room.

“Paul?”

Silence.

Dana chalked up the lack of response to his newly acquired petulance. “Make yourself comfortable,” she called. “Fix a drink for us. I’ll be right out.”

She slipped into a floor-length robe, the turquoise fabric skimming her body like loving hands.

She walked the length of the hall, head down, toweling her hair dry. “I’m glad you made it. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up. I trust you’ve come to a decision.”

“What decision is that?”

Her head snapped up. Nick Vincent glared at her from across the room.

“Nick,” she said with counterfeit calm, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He moved closer. “No, I just bet you didn’t.”

“How did you get in here?”

“I let myself in. Sorry about your back door.”

Masking her alarm, Dana returned to drying her hair. “There was no need for that.”

“I didn’t figure you’d be glad to see me.”

“I’m not—not here, not now. It’s dangerous.” She tossed the damp towel across the back of the couch, her heart thumping against her ribs. “Well, too late now. Want a drink?”

“You’re expecting Paul.”

She shrugged. “It could be hours before he shows up.”

“Or minutes,” Nick suggested.

She hoped he was right. “True. With Paul I can never be sure. Maybe we’d better keep this short. Why did you come, Nick? It’s asking for trouble.”

“I’ve already got trouble,” he said. “The cops had me locked up, but I’m sure you already know that.”

“I’m sorry, baby. By the time I heard, it was too late to do anything about it.”

“I just got out, but the cops aren’t done with me.” The expression on his face was as threatening as a clenched fist. “I’m sure that doesn’t come as a surprise to you either.”

Dana opened her full cigarette case and feigned disgust. “Shit. I’m out. Hang on a sec while I get another pack.” She turned and went to her bedroom at the end of the hall, feeling the weight of his gaze every step of the way. She returned with a lit cigarette in one hand, her other hand tucked into the pocket of her robe. “Want a smoke?”

He stared at her without a word.

“Whatever,” Dana said. “Have a seat.”

“I’ll stand.”

“Fine. How about a drink?”

“Cut the crap. I came for answers.”

“About what?”

“You fingered me, Dana.”

She let her jaw drop and widened her eyes. “Are you out of your mind? That’s ridiculous.”

“Like hell it is.”

“Nick, why would I do that?”

“You used me. You’ve been out for yourself all along.”

“I don’t get it. Where’s this coming from?”

“The cops got an anonymous tip. The caller gave them my license plate number—claimed they saw my bike coming out of the Davises’ driveway.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“You made that call. It
had
to be you. I stashed my bike off the road and walked the rest of the way to Davis’s place through the woods. My bike was never on the property, but you didn’t know that. You made that call and gave the cops my license number along with that bullshit story. You’re the one who put the fuckin’ bull’s-eye on my back.”

Dana shook her head, the damp strands of hair swaying in unison. “Baby, you’re crazy.”

“Like hell I am. You set me up. Nothing else makes sense. God, I’m such an idiot.”

“I swear I had nothing to do with it, babe. Think about it. All sorts of people must’ve seen you in town. Some do-gooder with an overactive sense of community service must’ve made that call.”

“What would anyone but you have to gain from doing that?”

Dana shrugged. “Maybe it was a shot at their fifteen minutes of fame, or maybe some paranoid senior citizen didn’t like your looks and made up a story to get you off their streets.” Dana gazed at him with false anguish. “I’d never have done that to you, Nick. I love you. You’ve always been part of my plans. You still are.”

“Sure, as long as I’m willing to wait in the background with my mouth shut.”

“Before long it’ll be just you, me and Paul’s money, like I promised.”

“How long? Another two years? Three?”

“It’ll be worth it, baby. Now that Valerie’s out of the way, Paul and I can get married. When the time is right, I’ll divorce him, and it’ll be just you, me and my share of his money. Just be patient a little longer.”

“You’re talking like everything’s settled between us.”

“Isn’t it?”

“When you saw me here instead of Davis, I saw your reaction.”

“You broke into my house. What did you expect?”

He hesitated, his belligerence shifting toward bluster. “Yeah, okay, but what’s it supposed to tell me that you’re still playing it cozy with him while I’m ass-deep in trouble?”

“It should tell you I’m sticking to our plan, Nick.” A smile played across her lush lips. “I’m still looking after our futures. Yours and mine.” She watched a subtle change take place in his eyes.

Nick pulled her into his arms, telegraphing his pent-up passion in a kiss. “This whole thing’s got me crazy.” He pressed his moist lips to hers again. “Dana, forget the plan. Let’s just leave. Now.”

“Are you kidding?” She pushed him away. “After two years? Forget it. I’m not leaving with nothing to show for it.”

“Nothing to show for it? What about the jewelry and furs? Sell them. Sell the house. You said it’s in your name. It’s more than we need to get away from here.”

“It’s not enough.”

He gripped her shoulders. “Listen to me. There’s something you need to hear.”

“Just go, Nick. I’ll get in touch with you later.” The tension in her voice escalated. “Go before Paul gets here.”

“It’s Paul I have to talk to you about. Listen. I was going to make Valerie Davis’s death look like an accident, like we talked about. I figured I’d snap her neck and throw her down the stairs, but I couldn’t go through with it. I never even set foot in the house. I didn’t kill her, Dana, Paul did. She was dead when I got there.”

Dana stood motionless for a moment, her expression frozen before a smile broke through. “Paul? You’re telling me he killed his wife…with an axe? Don’t make me laugh.”

“It was him. It
had
to be. You were supposed to keep him here Friday night. How could you let him go to Widmer?”

“He showed up whining about Chet Stockton. He got into a snit and stormed out. I couldn’t stop him. I had no idea he’d go there.”

“Yeah, well, he did. Just outside of Widmer, I wiped out on my bike. Guess who pulled up and offered me a ride into town. I nearly shit myself.”

“Sorry, but there’s no way to change any of that now.”

Possibilities started playing out in her head. Paul was as cautious as he was smart. His story about reconciling with Valerie and the big kiss-off scene the next day could have been meant to convince her of his innocence after the deed was done. If she were ever questioned, she could defend him more convincingly if she believed him. If that was his strategy, the phony alibi she’d provided for him had blown his plan out of the water. No wonder he’d been livid. It started to make sense to her.

“Dana, have you been listening to me?” Nick asked her. “Paul Davis isn’t someone you want to mess with.”

“I can handle him.”

Nick clamped his fingers around her arm. “Don’t kid yourself. Use your head, damn it.”

Dana yanked her arm free. She wanted Nick to leave, wanted him found by the police while he waited to get the call from her that would never come. “Get out of here, Nick.”

“Not without you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” She pulled her hand from the robe’s pocket. She was holding a .38 caliber pistol.

His face went slack as she leveled the weapon at him. “What are you doing?”

“I didn’t go to my bedroom for cigarettes,” she said, waggling the gun. “You should’ve listened when I told you to leave, Nick.”

“What’s wrong with you?” He stepped forward as she countered his move. “You said you loved me, Dana.”

She laughed. “An exaggeration. What we had was nice, but I never planned for it to be permanent.”

“You told me you were going to leave him, and it would just be the two of us.”

“You’re so naïve, Nick. Once I married Paul, did you really think that was going to happen?” She took aim. “You shouldn’t have come here, baby. You should’ve kept running.”

“Kill me and you’ll wind up in prison.”

“Wrong again. You broke into my house. It couldn’t be more perfect. By the way, I did make that anonymous call. The cops know. I told them I was afraid of what you’d do if you found out.”

“You bitch. You had this planned all along.”

“Actually, I played it by ear. Your breaking in was pure luck.” Dana’s smile faded. “Believe it or not, Nick, I’m sorry about this. I really am.” She pulled the trigger, surprised at how easy it was.

Nick grimaced, his features contorting in pain as he lurched toward her.

She fired again, but the shot went wide.

Nick’s body struck hers like a battering ram. They went down in a tangle of arms and legs, each struggling for control of the gun.

The weapon fired a third time.

39

While patrolling Widmer’s streets that night, Ray tried to understand his uneasiness. Maybe it was Greg Speltz’s denial of a connection between himself and that damn wrench. He’d been forthcoming about vandalizing Kramer’s barn, but when it came to the wrench, he wouldn’t budge. Greg was lying; he felt it down to the soles of his feet.

Dick Waverly’s phone call earlier in the day hadn’t helped either. He’d called to vent. Schaefer, his partner, had returned prematurely, his vacation sabotaged by daily downpours. Captain Roth had promptly returned Lovell Paige to his regular partner, sticking Waverly with Schaefer again. When it came to the Davis investigation, Waverly’s comments suggested Schaefer’s involvement might be more of a detriment than a help. Meanwhile, Ray’s hands were tied and
that
, he decided, was the major issue.

His eyelids felt like a five-pound weights. Other places had better coffee, but The Copper Kettle had the strongest. He pulled up and parked in front, confident Amy wouldn’t be there. Through the window, he saw four or five late-night regulars, the pie and coffee crowd.

Seated at a table, Ray asked his waitress, “What kind of pie do you have?”

“Key lime, banana cream, peanut butter, and chocolate pecan.”

“Peanut butter,” he said without hesitation. “And put a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top for me, would you, Deb? And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.”

She left and returned thirty seconds later, the peanut butter pie, with its Oreo cookie crust and thin upper shell of chocolate, peeking out beneath a generous mound of vanilla ice cream. She poured a cup of coffee for him and left the thermal carafe.

As he savored his first bite, on the other side of the café, Amy hurried toward the door, head down. It was clear she hadn’t expected to see him either. It was time to put an end to the nonsense.

“Amy,” he called.

She kept moving.

He headed her off at the door, catching her by the arm. “What’s your hurry?”

“Oh,” she said, pretending surprise. “I didn’t see you.”

Liar.
“Working a night shift?” he asked.

“I forgot my jacket here. I stopped by to get it.”

“How about joining me?”

She avoided meeting his eyes. “Thanks, but I’ve got to go.”

He hung onto her arm. “You’re not running off because of me, are you?”

“Actually, I’m trying out a self-defense technique I heard about. It’s called avoidance.”

He shook his head and led her to his table. “Park awhile,” he said, pulling out a chair. “We need to talk.”

Amy perched on its edge, clearly preparing for a quick getaway.

“Would you like some coffee or something?”

“I’m not hungry or thirsty,” Amy said, “just embarrassed.”

“About what?”

“I’ll be darned.” She plopped against the chair’s backrest. “When I made a complete fool of myself I could’ve sworn it was you there with me.”

“Can we just agree we
both
crossed the line and move on?”

She sulked for a few seconds. “On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“That neither of us mentions what happened ever again.”

Ray reached over his pie and shook her hand. “Done.” He downed his coffee and refilled the cup. “Now can I get you something?”

Her infectious smile sprang to life. “I really do have to go, Ray. I’ve got a friend waiting for me in my car.”

The brass bell over the door jangled. He glanced up in time to see Mark Haney take a seat at the counter. At the sudden, grim look on Ray’s face, Amy turned in search of the reason. A nearly inaudible “oh” slipped between her lips at the sight of his wife’s former lover. “So, um…how’s the pie, Ray?”