False Front (16 page)

‘Bartholomew Scott started the business in a carriage house next to his home in Trenton, New Jersey, in 1972. A series of progressively larger manufacturing facilities housed the company in New Jersey for the next several years. Dissatisfied with the economic situation in his home town, Mr Scott searched for a more fertile location for the continued growth of the company. He opened his first manufacturing facility in Virginia. Three decades later, Scott Technologies sits on a fifty-acre campus in a manufacturing facility producing more than seventy products to improve the technological environment for businesses, homes and government entities.’

New Jersey! Trenton, New Jersey. Tess Middleton, the current CEO of Scott Technologies, is the daughter of Bartholomew Scott. The email came from Scott Technologies. That definitely strengthens the connection. How could it not be the same Tess as on Charles Rowland’s note? Did she go to Livingston High? Getting that yearbook now seemed even more urgent.

She got up and paced the room. Chester interpreted that move as a signal to play. She noticed him and absent-mindedly threw a little purple mouse down the hall. He chased it with galloping feet and returned with the head and tail hanging out of his mouth. Lucinda was oblivious to his muted meows. He dropped it and let out a lusty yell. She startled out of her reverie and tossed the toy back down the hall. Chester ran up to it, flopped on the floor and chewed on its tail.

Lucinda pulled out her cell phone and looked for any missed calls or voicemail messages. Nothing. Why hadn’t Jake called? Maybe she should call Ricky and find out if he knew what was keeping Jake busy. Ricky’s cell rang four times and went to voicemail. A little more anxiety and apprehension disturbed her peace.

She called Ricky’s landline, thinking that Lily would answer. But that phone rang ten times without an answer. She hadn’t tried Jake’s number yet because she didn’t want to disturb him if he was in the middle of an interview. That no longer mattered. She called Jake’s cell. It, too, rang four times then went to voicemail.

She grabbed her keys, thinking she had to drive up there but stopped herself before she reached the door. If something was wrong, she wouldn’t get there in time to make any difference. Should she call the sheriff? She feared she would sound like an unprofessional, hysterical woman.

She started pacing again. Did she have Seth O’Hara’s phone number? She pulled out her cell and checked her contacts. No. He wasn’t there. She opened up her laptop and searched there. In a couple of minutes, she found it. Placing the call, she realized she was holding her breath. She exhaled forcefully and Martha answered the phone. ‘Hello, Martha. This is Ricky’s sister, Lucinda. I couldn’t reach him on the phone so I thought I’d call your place and see if that FBI agent was still there.’

‘No, he’s not,’ she said with a sob.

‘Martha? Is everything all right?’

‘No. It’s not.’

‘What’s going on?’

‘Seth thinks that Ricky is telling people that he killed Dylan. He went over there to straighten him out.’

‘Omigod!’ Lucinda exclaimed, her face blanching at the prospect.

‘That FBI guy chased after him. That was almost half an hour ago. I haven’t heard a word since.’

‘Did you call Ricky and warn him?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’ she shrieked.

‘Seth is my husband, Lucinda. He’s the one that matters to me the most. He’s all I have left with Dylan gone.’

‘But . . .’ Lucinda sputtered out and stopped. She couldn’t expect anything more of a woman devastated with grief by the death of her son. ‘Thank you, Martha,’ she said and disconnected. She called the sheriff’s office and asked them to send a deputy to respond to a bad situation developing on Ricky’s farm.

Then she knew she simply had to wait. She couldn’t drive up there and get caught up in that investigation. Not now. Things were heating up here in her own case. She had to be here first thing in the morning.

It was getting late but she knew she couldn’t sleep. She placed her landline and cell phone beside her recliner, scooped up Chester and leaned back to stroke him and gather up as much comfort as she could from his purr.

THIRTY

J
ake raced down the gravel drive, wincing at the sound of the little rocks bouncing off the body of his vintage car. He had little hope of catching up with Seth before he arrived at Ricky’s house. He called the landline there first but it was busy. He tried Ricky’s cell and got an answer.

‘Ricky, this is Jake. Seth is on his way to your house and he’s very angry. Don’t let him in.’

‘Angry at me? Why?’

‘He thinks you alleged that he killed Dylan.’

‘I never—’

‘I know. I know. I couldn’t tell him who it was but he jumped to the conclusion that it was you.’

‘Damn!’ Ricky said. ‘Uh, hold on a second.’ Off the phone, he shouted, ‘Lily, don’t answer the door.’

Jake strained to listen to the conversation.

‘It’s OK, honey, it’s my brother.’

‘Don’t let him in.’ Ricky put the phone back up to his face. ‘Hey, I gotta run . . .’

‘Ricky, leave the phone on. Hit the speaker button.’

Jake heard a click and the voices became more distinct.

‘Seth, why are you bringing your rifle into my house?’ Lily asked, sounding more curious than concerned. ‘Oh, Seth, put that gun down.’

‘Out of my way, Lily. I’m not here for you.’

‘Stop pointing that rifle at my husband. You stop it right now, Seth.’

‘I wanted to know why he said it,’ Seth said. ‘You want to explain that to me, Ricky the Righteous?’

‘Said what, Seth?’ Ricky said, talking slowly and calmly.

‘Don’t move, Ricky. Lift up your hands or I’ll shoot you right now.’

‘OK. My hands are up, Seth. Can you explain the problem?’ Ricky said.

‘This is ridiculous, Seth,’ Lily shouted. ‘Mama would be ashamed of you. Bringing a weapon into your sister’s house and pointing the barrel at her husband.’

‘You leave Mama out of this and get out of my way!’

Jake heard an ‘oof,’ followed by a clatter and a thump. He could only imagine that someone had just fallen.

Ricky continued in a slow and soothing voice. ‘Now, Seth, we both know you don’t want to hurt your sister. Keep your hands off of her. You don’t have a problem with her – you have a problem with me.’

‘If you have a problem with my husband, you have a problem with me, too!’ Lily shrieked.

‘Lily, please,’ Ricky said. ‘Now, Seth, if you’d just lower that barrel, we can talk this out.’

‘I’m not going do that, Ricky. Not until you tell me why you told that FBI prick that I killed my son. And if I don’t like your answer, I’m pulling the trigger.’

Jake heard a wordless scream, then more sounds of falling objects and tumbling bodies. A shot rang out. Jake pushed the accelerator to the floor, then had to brake hard as he reached the driveway, sending his car into a fishtail. He righted the vehicle and roared up the gravel drive. This time, the sound of the rocks hitting the car body didn’t register in his thoughts.

Jake screeched to a halt in front of the house and grabbed his cell, even though he hadn’t heard a sound since the weapon fired. He pulled out his gun and cautiously climbed up the two steps. Easing open the porch door, he approached the interior door.

He turned the knob and pushed, stepping to the side behind the wall. He leveled his weapon and spun around the corner. Lily was on the floor, her arms wrapped around Seth’s ankles. Seth was flat on his back. Ricky stood near them, his mouth agape.

‘Is anyone hurt?’ Jake asked.

Ricky pointed up to the ceiling where a bullet had poked a hole in the plaster. Jake breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Is the rifle the only weapon in the room?’

Ricky nodded. ‘I think so.’

‘Everyone stay where you are. Seth, take your hand off the rifle and put both of them on top of your head,’ Jake said as he eased his way over to Seth. Jake kicked the weapon out of Seth’s reach. Jake grabbed the rifle then holstered his gun.

‘Ricky, Lily, go sit on the sofa. Lily, let go of Seth’s legs. He’s not going anywhere until I tell him.’

Lily looked up at Jake with doubt.

‘Lily, please,’ Jake said.

She released her grip with obvious reluctance, crawling backwards to get some distance from her brother before standing upright. She circled around and joined her husband on the sofa.

‘Seth, you can get up now,’ Jake said. ‘But make your movements slow and deliberate. I want you to sit down in the chair to the right of the sofa. Don’t speak until I ask you a question.’

Sitting up, Seth glowered at Jake, then turned his scowl to his sister and her husband. He placed his hands on the floor and pushed up. After he’d taken a seat, Jake said, ‘Ricky did not tell me that you killed Dylan.’

‘You’re a liar,’ Seth hissed.

‘No, I am not, Seth. Ricky did not accuse you because Ricky is certain that Dylan committed suicide.’

‘Well, righteous Ricky always has an answer for everything. And besides, he’s always right. If you don’t believe me, ask my damn wife and sister. Why, they don’t see a need to use their own brains any longer. They just listen to Ricky and say “that’s what I think.” I don’t give a damn what Ricky or either of those women think, ’cause anyone who says my son committed suicide is wrong.’ He pointed a finger at Ricky. ‘You think that son of a bitch knows my son better than I do?’

Ricky opened his mouth to speak but Jake held his hand up, cautioning him to remain silent. ‘I’m not finished looking into Dylan’s death, Mr O’Hara. But I will tell you, I’m leaning in the direction of suicide.’

‘Of course you are. Everyone sides with Ricky and you cops stick together – you’d never dare contradict the sheriff.’

‘Yes, I can dare and I dare often but this time he may be right. I can’t prove that your accusation isn’t true, Seth. All I can do is to keep searching until I find the reason why Dylan would take his own life.’

‘You mean concoct a reason why,’ Seth said with a sneer.

‘You have no idea of how much I hate telling a parent that his child has committed suicide. I do not want that to be true. But everything is pointing in that direction. The only thing I can conclusively say is that Ricky is not part of your problem, Seth. He never said a negative word about you. He was only concerned about your state of mind. He only wanted to help your wife put your son to rest.’

‘What about the boy who killed my son? You’re protecting him because he’s a cop’s kid, aren’t you?’

‘Seth, I promise you that I will continue looking at Todd Childress until I know with absolute certainty that homicide is not even a remote possibility. Can you accept that and stop going off half-cocked, threatening family members?’

Seth grunted but did not say a word.

‘Seth,’ Jake continued, ‘can you ask your sister’s forgiveness for coming into her home brandishing a weapon?’

Seth nodded. ‘I’m sorry, Lily. I should have waited till I found him in the barn or out in a field.’

Jake grabbed Seth’s collar and jerked him up. ‘Quit screwing around, Seth. I call that a threat. Do I need to come to your home and confiscate all of your weapons?’

Seth sneered and laughed. ‘I thought this wasn’t an official investigation, Mr Agent.’

Jake released Seth’s collar and pushed him back into his seat. He rested a palm on each chair arm and leaned into Seth’s face. ‘It is now, buddy. It was the moment you walked into this house with lethal intent. Right now, I want you to stand up and walk outside with me. I’m going to take any other weapons out of your vehicle and then you’re going home to your wife, who is understandably upset.’

Jake let Seth lead the way until they were twenty feet from Seth’s pick-up truck. ‘Put your hands on your head and kneel on the ground, Mr O’Hara.’

‘I’ve got a shotgun in there on the rack but that’s it,’ Seth protested.

‘On your knees, O’Hara.’

Seth sunk down, gravel digging into his knee caps.

‘Lace your hands on top of your head.’

‘Aw, c’mon. I’m not going to try anything.’

‘Do it. Now.’

Seth grumbled but complied. Jake seized the shotgun and then checked under and behind the seats and in the glove box for any handguns. He straightened up and was looking down the drive when a siren pierced the peace of the country night.

The vehicle came to a halt with a hail of gravel. A deputy stepped out of a marked car, a shotgun resting in the cradle of his arm. ‘What the hell’s going on here?’

‘FBI, Deputy.’

The deputy lifted a flashlight and shone a bright beam on Jake’s face. ‘Martha told me one of your kind was around these parts. Pull your shield out slowly and hold it up in the light.’

Squinting, Jake slipped his identification out of his pocket and held it aloft.

‘All right, then. Now what the hell did Seth do?’

Jake explained the situation and the deputy asked, ‘Ricky and them pressing charges?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Jake said. ‘But you’d have to ask them.’

‘Is it OK to let Seth up?’

Jake nodded.

‘C’mon, Seth,’ the deputy said, offering him a hand. ‘You go sit in your truck. We’re going to go in and have a word with your sister and her husband. You sit right here. When I come out I’ll follow you home and make sure everything’s OK on the home front. Can’t have you running home and taking out your frustration on Martha.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Seth said as he climbed into the cab, sliding behind the wheel.

The deputy pointed a finger at the man’s chest. ‘And you listen good, Seth. You take off without me and so help me God, I’ll run your sorry ass down, slap on a pair of cuffs and carry you down to lock-up. You understand me?’

‘Perfectly, sir,’ Seth said.

Seth seemed passive at the moment, Jake thought. But with his hair-trigger temper, he believed the odds were fifty-fifty that he’d bolt before they came back outside.

THIRTY-ONE

B
ack inside Ricky’s home, Jake stayed in the background while the deputy got details of the incident for his report and discussed the possibility of charges against Seth. Ricky and Lily sat side by side on the worn, comfy sofa, oblivious to any comfort it had to offer. Ricky, though a bit rattled, was recovering from the shock of the incident.