Swan Song (Julie O'Hara Mystery Series) (21 page)

“I didn’t give up easily, though. I started looking for jobs that didn’t require applications…and I found one…a landscaping company. It was going all right until the police came and dragged me out the house, grilled me and threw me in a line-up. A three year-old girl was missing from the next town and they thought I had something to do with it.

“
A three year-old.

“I was registered as a
Sex Offender
for the crime of falling in love with Dianna Wieland, a full grown girl, with whom I’d never had sex. I’m sorry if I sound angry. This is something I’ve tried hard not to think about. Shall I continue?”

“Yes,” said Julie, understanding his anger. “Please go on.”

She’d been watching Linc’s every expression, every nuance, and there wasn’t one false note.

Overall, he was relaxed and his body was still. His rate of blinking and the pitch of his voice were normal; his gaze was steady. There were no hesitations, no ‘ums’ and ‘ahs’. Most of all, up to this point, his story rang true and didn’t contradict what they already knew.

“The newspaper picked up the story and I lost my job, so I came to the decision that there was no point in leaving the farm,” he said. “I had the love and support of my parents, who knew the truth about me. I had a good friend in Lincoln, who had also lived through some tough times. I even had a girlfriend who wasn’t too picky about the company she kept.

“Anyway, our farm had extensive apple orchards and other stuff going on …it was sort of a local attraction…especially in the fall. I would eventually inherit the place and it was a decent, dependable business. It was a hell of a lot better than prison…and it was better than moving somewhere and having to
register
as a perpetual scumbag suspect.”

“So how did the accident happen?” asked
Joe. His tone made two things plain: he was impatient and unconvinced.

“It was spring, April. That’s when we check the fencing around our property. Some of it is just wood and chicken wire, but up on the ridge, way in the back of our land, we have chain link for safety. There’s a granite quarry right behind us there, and the land drops off sharply. My father was driving our old pickup truck; my mother was in the cab beside him. It was a nice day; she brought our lunch and came along for the ride. Lincoln and I were in the back with the tools.

“It all happened so fast, and I don’t really know how. We were next to the fence…”

Julie noticed that
Linc’s pattern of speech had unconsciously slowed and the pitch of his voice was lower, both signs of extreme sadness. Tears were glistening in his eyes. He closed them momentarily and continued.

“My father was supposed to back up…but he didn’t. He stepped on the gas. He had to have stepped on the pedal
hard…
but he couldn’t have meant to do it.

“We shot forward through the fence and I was thrown clear before the truck hit. The fire swept through right away…everyone
was…they were all…”

Linc stood up, unable to go on. He stood in the kitchen, his back to Julie and Joe, rocking back and forth, his arms
crossed, his fist to his mouth. Joe looked at Julie and he was choked up, too. It was utterly impossible to doubt the truth of Linc’s account.

After a couple minutes, he returned to his chair.

“I’m sorry. Anyway, that’s it. That’s what happened. I should have died with them, but Lincoln Tyler did. So now what?”

Neither one of them could move on without expressing their sympathy.

“I’m sorry about your parents, Linc,” said Julie.

“Yeah,” said Joe. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Thank you. What else do you want to know?”

Joe had to know one thing.

“Why did you move to Florida? Was it Dianna?”

“Yes,” admitted Linc. “I felt like she was all I had left. I found out where she lived, but I was afraid to contact her. I didn’t know how she felt about me. What if she hated me like her father? I was building a new life here at the ranch, one where I wasn’t a social outcast. She could blow it apart.

“Two years went by, but I kept thinking of her. Finally, I decided to take a limited chance.”

He got up and took a picture off the wall.

“I sent her a copy of this, with a note on it that said, ‘I’ll be there again this year’. I signed it Linc Tyler.”

It was a framed Silver Spurs Rodeo photograph of Linc on horseback hoisting a trophy. His smiling face was clearly visible.

“She recognized you and she came,” said Joe.

“Yes, she came.”

“What happened after that?” said Joe.

“Everything was wonderful after that. I didn’t care about anything that had gone on before, none of it mattered. You have to understand; Dianna was everything I ever wanted, since I was sixteen. It was the happiest time of my life.”

“Were you angry when she broke it off?”

“Yes, I was. Very.”

I think we’ve heard enough. One last question…

“Did you kill Dianna, Linc?” asked Julie.

“No. Of course not, I loved her! I came to my senses. There was no realistic basis for
us.
What was she going to do, bring me home to meet her parents? Marry a sexual predator, her very
own
sexual predator, a man hiding out in a false identity? No. Dianna was educated and successful; she had all the makings of a good life ahead of her.
There was no way for us to be
together
. I forced myself to accept the facts.

“Later, when I heard about her death, I was stunned. My best friends, grief and fear were back in spades. And
rage
. I knew Dianna didn’t kill herself and there was
nothing
I could do! Then that detective, McPhee, and his partner came to see me. What if they found out who I was? And then
you
showed up. I really got scared when you went to Folsom, the trainer in Palm Meadows. Oh, yeah, he called me. He’s a good guy, but he told me he really didn’t see me out at the track that morning.

“When I hung up from him, I thought for sure the cops were going
to dig deeper and end up hanging Dianna’s death on me. I had to find some
other
way to verify where I was. The hotel was out. I left the Best Western about six to go watch Beau Grande run, but I didn’t stop at the desk. I got gas later, too, but I threw away the slip. And then I thought of this…”

Linc opened up the drawer of the end table next to him and handed Julie a sheet of paper.

“It’s my credit union statement. Look at January 28, 2010. Right under the Best Western, Boynton Beach, there’s another debit, Champion Stop & Go, Boynton Beach.

“Well, now you know the whole story. Dianna loved me in a way, but not like I loved her. We had our time together because we had paid a heavy price for it. We
deserved
it. It was as simple as that.”

•

The windshield wipers drummed a steady beat and the headlights of the Land Rover cut through the driving rain. They were quiet; no need to state the obvious.

“So, now what do we do?”

“I don’t know, Joe. I don’t know.”

There
was
one
thing they both knew:

They would keep Linc Tyler’s secret.

* * * * * 

Chapter 49

I
t was July and hot as hell. Fortunately, Mother Nature gathered her thunderclouds most afternoons and thoroughly doused a grateful Florida. Suburbanites in Orlando threw open their garage doors welcoming the cool air and – while sipping iced-tea - enjoyed the booming light show and deluge from beach chairs inside.

Downtown, Julie and Joe watched the downpour through the screen door of Joe’s kitchen. The rain was coming straight down and the second-floor porch roof – designed precisely for such an occasion – was keeping the small outside deck dry. Nevertheless, they had covered the grill and moved their meal inside.

Two months had passed since they had gone to Pleasure Ride Farm in Ocala. Joe had officially wrapped up his investigation and sent a full report to the Wielands and a copy to Detective McPhee at the Orlando Police Department. Julie, however, could not let the case go. Once again, she had brought up the subject…and Joe was losing patience.

“Look, we did lift some guilt from the
Wielands, and the cops have to keep the case open. And another thing, it certainly eased Sabrina’s mind when Mike was cleared with the DNA test. That wouldn’t have happened without us.
Sabrina would never have gone directly to the cops.”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Julie, patently unsatisfied.

“Do you know how many murder cases go unsolved, Merlin? No? Well, let me tell you; it’s
one out of three
. We did the best we could, so stop beating yourself up! Isn’t it enough that you got your leg broken?”

Julie sipped her chardonnay and kept quiet.

No, it isn’t. It feels like I got my leg broken for nothing.

“By the way,” said Joe, “how
is
your leg?”

“It’s better. I managed to climb the stairs without any problem. I’m glad to be off the crutches. At least I can do some simple things, like cooking. How’s your tortellini?” Julie had made one of her favorite dishes: tortellini with fresh vegetables, parmesan cheese and chicken.

“Magnifico,” said Joe, raising his wine glass.

He was right, of course. She had to let go of Dianna’s case, put it out of her mind. She raised her glass to his.

“You know, Joe, we’re a couple of
foodies
.”

“Yes, we are,” he agreed, smiling. “It’s one of the things we do really well.”

She just couldn’t help herself.

Unlike solving murders…

* * * * * 

Chapter 50

D
ianna’s killer was feeling good. He was dressed for summer in black shorts, sneakers and a green shirt. It was a nice day to be out riding on the bike. He was nodding and smiling at people and they were smiling back at him. He particularly liked looking at the girls with their short-shorts and skimpy tops. He tipped his cap at one of them.

That’s the good thing about these sunglasses. They can’t see what I’m looking at.

He laughed to himself.

He was sorry about what happened to Dianna, but it was
her
fault, treating him like that. Did she think he was just going to take it?

Besides, it was months ago now. He began to whistle.

Life was good…

* * * * * 

Chapter
51

I
t was the hour that didn’t make sense to Julie.

If Dianna died between five-thirty and six o’clock in the morning, her killer had to be out there hanging around Lake
Eola at five or earlier…before dawn.

Julie had great respect for gut instinct. Sometimes over-thinking a problem led to erroneous conclusions. In the very beginning, when everyone thought Dianna’s death was a suicide, part of that conclusion was born of gut instinct. Joe had voiced it well: “What mugger, or rapist, or
whatever, would even be
awake
?”

The answer was
none.
It was common knowledge that the area was largely deserted at that time of the morning. In fact, that was why the poker club patrons at the Mint Julep could exit unobserved at that hour. Even the craziest drug addict, rapist or thief wouldn’t hang around a
typically
deserted
area hoping for a mark to materialize on foot.

Dianna’s death wasn’t a suicide and it wasn’t random, Julie decided. She was targeted by someone who knew exactly where she was. This was someone waiting patiently - most likely in a vehicle - for Dianna, specifically, to materialize. And it wasn’t Lee Porter, Mike
Menello or Lincoln Tyler. That left only one possibility.

Dianna had a stalker.

That meant that her death was about sex and obsession. It meant that someone fantasized a relationship with Dianna that didn’t exist.

Suddenly, Julie had an idea. She picked up the phone and keyed in number.

“Tate Law Firm…Good morning.”

“Hi, is this Carol?” said Julie.

“Yes, it is. How can I help you?”

“It’s Merlin, Carol. I’m calling for John. Is he in?”

“Just a moment, Merlin. I’ll see
…”

John Tate came on the line.

“Merlin! How are you? Are you available? I’ve got an important case. I’m going to need some assistance with jury selection.”

“I’m fine. When?” said Julie.

“Two weeks from Monday.”

“I can’t see why not, John. I’ll check my calendar with Luz and get back to you on that later today, all right? But, right now, I need a referral.”