Hello, Darkness (32 page)

Curtis didn’t beat around the bush. “Your friend Valentino jumped his deadline. Janey Kemp’s body was discovered half an hour ago in Lake Travis.”

Reflexively Dean reached for Paris’s hand and gripped it hard. He’d been surprised to see her waiting in Curtis’s cubicle when he and Gavin got there. She told him she had been summoned just as he had, with no more explanation than he had received.

Curtis had arrived a few minutes behind them. He’d asked Gavin if he would wait for them with another detective in one of the interrogation rooms. As his son was led away, Dean had a strong sense of foreboding. Justifiably, as it turned out.

“Two fishermen found her nude body partially submerged beneath the root system of a cypress tree. I was called immediately and rushed out there. Although she hasn’t been officially identified, it’s her.

“The crime scene unit is combing the place. The ME is examining the body, even before he moves it. Hopes to get something. She looks pretty bad,” he said with a heavy sigh. “Bruises on her face, neck, torso, and extremities. What appear to be bite marks…” He glanced at Paris. “Several places.”

“How did she die?” Dean asked.

“We won’t know until the autopsy. The ME estimated that she hadn’t been in the water more than six or seven hours, though. Probably put there sometime last night.”

“If you had to guess…”

“I’d guess strangulation, like Maddie Robinson. The bruises on Janey’s neck match the ones she had. On the other hand, the two could be unrelated.”

“Sexual assault?”

“The ME will also determine that. Again, if I had to guess, I’d say very likely.”

They were silent for a time, then Paris asked softly, “Have the Kemps been notified?”

“That’s why I was late getting here. I stopped at their house. The judge was still fuming over the chief’s reversed decision and thought I had come to make amends. When I told them about the body, Mrs. Kemp collapsed, but she wouldn’t allow him to console her.

“Each blamed the other. They shouted accusations. It was an ugly scene. When I left they were still going at it. I’m meeting them at the morgue in an hour to get a positive ID, and I don’t look forward to it.”

He stared into near space a moment, then said, “They wouldn’t win a popularity contest with me, but I have to admit I felt sorry for them. Their only child has been brutalized and murdered. God knows what she endured before she died. I couldn’t help but think about my own daughter, how I’d feel if somebody did that to her, then dumped her in a lake for fish to feed on.”

Dean saw from the corner of his eye that Paris had pressed her fingers vertically against her lips as though to forcibly contain her emotion. “Why did you want to see Gavin?” he asked Curtis.

“Will he submit to a lie detector test?”

“Bad time for a joke, Sergeant.”

“I’m not joking. We’re no longer shooting in the dark. I’ve got a dead girl. I’ve got to tighten the screws.”

“On my son?”

“He was one of the last people to see her alive.”

“Except the person who kidnapped and killed her. Have you checked out Gavin’s alibi?”

“His friends, you mean? Yes, we ran down several of them.”

“And?”

“Unanimously they vouched for Gavin, said he was with them. But they were drunk and high, so their memories were fuzzy. None could nail down the time he joined them or the time he left.”

“You’re only subjecting Gavin to this because he’s the one suspect who’s available,” Dean said angrily.

“Unfortunately, you’re right,” the detective admitted with chagrin. “So far there’s been no sign of Lancy Ray Fisher even though we’ve staked out his apartment and his mother’s place. One interesting thing turned up on his bank statement, though. There were several canceled checks made out to a Doreen Gilliam, who teaches high school drama and speech.”

He looked at them meaningfully before adding, “Ms. Gilliam moonlights by giving private lessons out of her home. Lancy, aka Marvin, has been taking speech and diction lessons.”

“
Speech
lessons?” Paris exclaimed. “He rarely spoke.”

Curtis shrugged.

“To aid in disguising his voice, maybe?” Dean asked.

“That was my thought,” Curtis said.

“He worked for the telephone company and would have the know-how to reroute calls,” Dean mused out loud. “And he’s fixated on Paris or else why the tapes?”

“One of the first things I’m going to ask him when he’s brought in,” Curtis said. “Finding this body raises the bar considerably, so off come the kid gloves. With everybody. I hadn’t heard back from Toni Armstrong, so I obtained a search warrant for their house. I made Rondeau personally responsible for cracking Brad Armstrong’s computer. In my book, he’s got a real good shot at being our man. His own wife testified that she caught him picking up a teenage girl.

“I’ve pulled in the sheriff’s office, the Texas Rangers, and the Texas Highway Patrol. Every law-enforcement officer in the city and surrounding area is on the lookout for Armstrong as well as Lancy Ray Fisher. In any case, we’re not putting the squeeze exclusively on Gavin.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Dean asked. “My son being lumped in with a sex offender and a porn star? And since you can’t find them, you’re requiring Gavin to take a lie detector test.”

“Not requiring, requesting.”

Paris laid her hand on his arm. “Maybe you should agree to it, Dean. It will clear him.”

He wanted to believe it would turn out like that. But Gavin was holding something back. It was only a gut instinct, but it was strong enough to make him afraid of the secret Gavin was keeping.

Curtis was frowning down at the folder on his desk that Dean guessed contained crime scene photos of Janey Kemp’s body. “The evidence we have on Gavin is circumstantial. Nothing hard. You’d be within your rights to refuse the test.” He looked up at Dean, and Dean recognized the detective’s challenge for what it was.

“Fuck that. Gavin takes your damn test.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“P
aris, it’s Stan.”

“Stan?”

“You sound surprised. You gave me your cell number months ago, remember?”

“But you’ve never called it.”

“Only in case of an emergency, you said. I just heard about Janey Kemp on the news. I called to see if you’re all right.”

“I can’t describe how awful I feel.”

“Where are you?”

“At the downtown police station.”

“I bet it’s hopping. Did the body give up any clues to who did it?”

“I hate to disappoint you, Stan, but the only gruesome detail I know is that she’s dead.”

“Do you plan on doing your program tonight?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“The GM notified Uncle Wilkins about the body. They discussed it and thought that, with everything that’s happened, you might want to take the night off, replay a tape of an old show.”

“I’ll call the GM later and talk to him myself. But if anyone asks, tell them that I’ll do the program live as always. Valentino is not going to scare me off.”

“He’s done what he said he was going to do, Paris. Do you think he’ll call again?”

“I hope he does. The more he talks to me, the better chance we have of identifying him.”

“Too bad you couldn’t have caught him before he killed her.” After a pause, he added, “Guess I shouldn’t have reminded you of that, huh? I’m sure you already feel bad enough for being the one who set him off in the first place.”

“I’ve got to go, Stan.”

“Are you mad? You sound mad.”

“I just don’t want to talk about it anymore right now, okay? I’ll see you tonight.”

She clicked off. He wished he could have kept her talking longer because it tied up his phone line. If his uncle continued to get a busy signal, he might become discouraged and stop calling.

Ever since he’d learned that Janey Kemp’s body had been discovered, Uncle Wilkins had been phoning periodically. He pretended to be concerned about the station’s involvement, but Stan knew the reason for the frequent calls—Uncle Wilkins was checking up on him.

He should never have admitted to being attracted to Paris. You’d think that was all his uncle had heard during their meeting. He’d been referring to it ever since.

During their last telephone conversation, Wilkins had said in his most menacing voice, “If you’ve done anything perverse or inappropriate…”

“I’ve been an altar boy around her. I swear to God.”

How could he have behaved otherwise with Paris? She wasn’t rude, but she never acted particularly happy to see him. Sometimes, even when she was talking to him, she seemed preoccupied, as though she had something on her mind that was more important or interesting than him.

He was certain that if he’d ever made a move on her, she would have cut him off at the knees. She’d never invited even the slightest flirtation. In fact, she often looked through him, as though he wasn’t there. Much like his parents, she treated him with a casual disregard that was as hurtful as an outright rejection. He was always an afterthought.

His chance for a romance with Paris had always been remote. But it had been totally squelched when Dean Malloy entered the picture. Malloy was an arrogant son of a bitch, confident of himself and his appeal to the opposite sex. He would never need to coerce a secretary into raising her skirt or cajole a date into bed.

Fact of life: Things came easier to men like Malloy.

Another fact: Women like Paris were attracted to men like that.

People like Paris and Malloy had never known a day of rejection. It would never occur to them that love and affection didn’t come as easily to others as it did to them. They shone like bright little planets, without an inkling of what it was like to be someone who could only orbit around them. They had no idea the lengths to which someone would go to attain the adoration they took for granted.

No idea.

Gavin’s head was bowed so low, his chin was almost touching his chest. “In the lake?”

“Her body is being transported to the morgue, where it will undergo an autopsy to determine the cause of death.”

Gavin raised his head. The news of Janey’s death had caused him to go pale. He swallowed with difficulty. “Dad, I…You gotta believe me. I didn’t do it.”

“I believe that. But I also believe just as strongly that you’re keeping something from me.”

Gavin shook his head.

“Whatever it is, wouldn’t you rather tell me than have it come out during a lie detector test? What don’t you want me to know?”

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying, Gavin. I know you are.”

The boy surged to his feet, fists clenched. “You have no right to accuse someone of lying. You’re the biggest liar I know.”

“What are you talking about? When have I lied to you?”

“My whole life!” Dean watched in dismay as tears sprang to his son’s eyes. Angrily, Gavin swiped at them with his fists. “You. Mom. Always telling me you loved me. But I know better.”

“What’s makes you say that, Gavin? Why do you think we don’t love you?”

“You didn’t want me,” he shouted. “You got her pregnant by accident, didn’t you? And that’s the only reason you got married. Why didn’t you just get rid of me and save yourselves the trouble?”

He and Pat had never specifically discussed how much they would tell Gavin if he ever asked this question. Perhaps they should have. She wasn’t here to consult, so Dean was left to answer his son’s tortured questions alone. Despite the embarrassment it might cause Pat, and himself, he decided Gavin deserved the unmitigated truth.

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but not until you sit down and stop looking at me like you’re about to go for my throat.”

Gavin battled with indecision for several moments, then plopped back into the chair. His expression remained belligerent.

“You’re right. Your mother was pregnant when we got married. You were conceived during a weekend fraternity party in New Orleans.”

Gavin laughed bitterly. “Jeez. It’s even worse than I thought. Were you college sweethearts at least?”

“We had dated a few times.”

“But she wasn’t someone you…not someone special.”

“No,” Dean admitted quietly.

“So I was a mistake.”

“Gavin—”

“Why didn’t you use something? Were you drunk or just stupid?”

“A little of both, I guess. Your mother wasn’t on the pill. I should have acted more responsibly.”

“Bet you shit when she told you.”

“I’ll admit that it came as a shock. For your mother as well as me. She was about to graduate and launch her career. I was beginning grad school. Her pregnancy was a hurdle neither of us had counted on at that time in our lives. But—and I want you to believe this, Gavin—abortion was never even considered.”

He could tell by his son’s expression that he wanted desperately to believe that, but was still finding it difficult to accept. Dean couldn’t blame him. Perhaps he and Pat had been wrong to not discuss this with Gavin once he was old enough to understand how women became pregnant. If they had explained it to him, he wouldn’t have developed insecurities about his self-worth, and harbored such resentment toward them.

“Nor was adoption discussed. From the start, Pat planned to have you and keep you. Thank God she paid me the courtesy of telling me that I had fathered a child. And when she did, I insisted that you have my name. I wanted to be in your life. Although neither of us wanted to marry the other, I wanted to make you legally mine. She finally agreed to go through with the ceremony.

“We didn’t love each other, Gavin. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but it wouldn’t be the truth, and that’s what you’ve asked for and I think that’s what you deserve to hear. We liked each other. We were companionable and respected each other. But we didn’t love each other.

“We did, however, love you. When I held you for the first time, I was nothing short of awed and overjoyed. Your mother felt the same. She and I lived together until you were born.

“During that time, we tried to convince ourselves that love would eventually blossom and that we’d come to realize we wanted to be together for the rest of our lives. But it wasn’t going to happen and both of us knew it.

“We cried on the day we finally agreed that staying together would only make for three unhappy people and postpone the inevitable. It was in your best interest that we split sooner, before you could even remember, rather than later. So when you were three months old, she filed for divorce.”

He spread his hands wide. “That’s it, Gavin. I think it would help if you also talked to your mother about this. Understandably, she didn’t want you to know because she didn’t want you to think badly of her. I don’t want that either. She wasn’t a party girl who slept with every guy on campus. That weekend was the last fraternity party we would ever attend because we were both about to graduate. We got wild and crazy and…it happened.

“Your mother sacrificed a lot in order to raise you as a single parent. I know you’re upset with her for marrying now, but that’s just too damn bad. Pat’s not only your mother, she’s a woman. And if you’re entertaining some childish fear that her husband is going to replace you in her life, you’re wrong. Believe me, he couldn’t. No one could.”

“I don’t think that,” he said, speaking to his lap. “I’m not an idiot. I know she needs love and all that.”

“Then maybe you should stop sulking about it and tell her that you understand.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders. “I just wish you’d told me, you know, before now. I knew anyway.”

“Well, if you knew anyway, and it didn’t make a significant difference in your life, then why are you using it as an excuse now?”

His head snapped up. “An excuse?”

“Lasting marriages don’t necessarily make for happy homes, Gavin. Lots of kids who live with both parents have a far worse childhood than you’ve had, and, believe me, I know this.

“You’re using your accidental conception as an excuse to behave like a jerk. That’s a cowardly cop-out. Your mother and I are human. We were young and reckless and made a mistake. But isn’t it time you stopped brooding over
our
mistake and started accepting responsibility for your own?”

Anger infused Gavin’s face with color. He breathed heavily through his nose. But tears had once again collected in his eyes.

“I love you, Gavin. With all my heart. I’m grateful for the mistake your mother and I made that night. I’d willingly die for you. But I refuse to let you use the circumstances of your birth to distract me from what is more imperative and, right now, considerably more critical.”

He moved his chair closer to the one in which Gavin sat and planted his hand firmly on his shoulder. “I’ve talked to you frankly, man to man. Now I want you to act like a man and tell me what you’ve been holding back.”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“No there’s not.”

“You’re lying.”

“Get off my back, Dad!”

“Not until you tell me.”

His features reflected the turmoil within as he wrestled with his fear and possibly his conscience. Finally he blurted out, “Okay, you want to know? I was in Janey’s car with her that night.”