The River Is Dark (10 page)

Liam saw movement ahead—a swinging branch whipping back into place with the recent passage of something. He ran toward it, drawing a bead on the spot in case someone waited for them. He heard Dani close behind him and waved her to slow as they reached the place where he’d seen the movement.

They stood in a shallow ditch that dropped a few feet and then climbed a miniature bluff on its other side. He waited, breathing as quietly as he could, straining his ears for a sound. One came from his right, and then another from the left. He looked both ways, seeing a trail of grass recently trampled to the left and a crow take flight from a treetop on the right.

“There’s two of them,” Dani said.

“Fuck,” Liam said, and made a decision. “This way.” He ran to the right.

They followed the bluff until it receded into the ground and they could climb out of the little gorge. The sound of footsteps rasped ahead, and Liam pelted onward, praying that Dani would keep up with him. He saw something through the thick brush growing fifty yards from where he ran—an odd shape and the flash of white skin. It was there and gone before he could see more.

He poured on the speed, fighting through the tangles of grass and gripping thorns of wild cucumbers. When they met the solid wall of brush, Liam stopped, searching for a way through. The sounds of retreat were subtler, and he wasn’t sure if the person they pursued was farther away or if the architecture of the forest distorted the acoustics.

There was a break in the brambles to his left, and he fought his way through to the other side, where a more formidable trail began. Its surface looked beaten and well used, almost like a hiking path or a popular animal run. He paused, listening for telltale sounds. The woods were silent, still. He looked into and through the cascade of greenery, trying to spot a shifting branch or swaying fern. Nothing moved.

“Where’d he go?” Dani said behind him.

Liam shook his head, looking for a signal of their quarry’s location. He walked forward, his senses over-heightened, the colors of the woods too bright, the scratching of a beetle crawling across a dead leaf too loud. A pressing sensation filtered through his skin and sunk into the lowest part of his guts. He stopped and waited, knowing exactly what the feeling was.

“We’re being watched,” Liam whispered. He was about to step over a rotting log blocking the path when Dani grabbed his arm.

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to a bend in the trail.

Liam studied the spot, at first dismissing it as a leaning tree. But then he saw the flutter of yellow in the light breeze that chilled the sweat on his skin. They moved toward the bend in the trail, and soon he realized it was not a tree at all.

The cabin listed to one side, its Lincoln Log corners parting to reveal blackened mouths between their joints. The roof was mostly gone, perhaps collapsing beneath a past snowfall or surrendering to the rot of the furry moss that covered the majority of the cabin’s surface. It was small, no more than two rooms, a single open window beside the canted front door, like a canvas painted in motor oil. A circle of yellow material hung from a bent nail beside the door, the bright color tainted by a speckling of dark stains.

They approached the shack, and Liam left Dani at the front while he circumvented the structure to make sure there wasn’t anyone behind or inside it. When he looked through another glassless window on the back side, he saw that the interior was one room with several sticks of decayed furniture rotting into indistinguishable combinations of wood and stuffing. The floor was dirt, and he saw the decapitated head of a doll sporting bedraggled hair—which once might have been blond—in a corner, its eyes covered with mud.

When he rounded the last side, he saw Dani standing with her hand over her mouth, her eyes full of tears.

“What is it?” he asked, looking to where she gazed.

She raised a hand and pointed at the circle of yellow material. “That’s Suzie’s headband.”

Liam pushed the Sig into its holster and moved closer to the cabin. The headband swung in the breeze, giving him a better look at both its blood-splotched sides. A small blue flower stitched into the band stood out amidst the burgundy drops. A shiver tried to course through his spine and he shut it off, turning in place to examine the woods around them. He could still feel eyes pressing, prodding from somewhere nearby, a force that changed as he pivoted. He needed to get Dani out of here, now.

“Let’s go,” he said, taking her by the arm.

She bit her lower lip and nodded as they made their way back down the path, away from the collapsing shack and its yellow flag.

CHAPTER 11

“I think you should leave town.”

Liam didn’t look at her when he said the words, instead favoring the wall of the bait store through the Chevy’s windshield. He knew she was staring at the side of his face, and could imagine her incredulous expression.

“What? Why?”

“Because this is getting too dangerous.”

“And it wasn’t the other night at the Shevlins’?”

Liam squeezed his eyes shut. “They saw our faces today.” He finally turned to her. “They know what you look like.” He watched the anger in her eyes recede, but then her lips formed a solid line.

“No. If you’re staying, I am too.”

He sighed. “Dani, please—”

“No. You asked me for help and now you want me to leave? No. End of story.”

“I’m kicking myself right now harder than you know for bringing you into this, but you can still go away.” He stared straight into her eyes, begging for her to see the reason in his argument.

“Sorry, bud, not gonna happen.” Dani tilted her head and gave a look that asked him to challenge her.

He turned back to stare out of the windshield. “Dammit.”

“Yep. So what’s next?”

He rubbed his forehead and pressed his fingers into his eye sockets, trying to crush the weariness that coated them. “Coffee.”

Dani laughed. “And then what?”

Liam dropped his hands from his face. “We go to the sheriff, tell him what we saw. Maybe he can get a search warrant for the foundry property.” He was about to make another, more tactful attempt at urging her to leave town when his cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished the phone out. A blocked number came up, and he answered without hesitation.

“Sheriff?”

A pause. “No, this is Agent Phelps. Mr. Dempsey, we need you to stop by the station in town to ask you some questions.”

Liam’s heart missed a beat, then fluttered into action again. “You have me on the line now—go ahead.”

“I’m afraid I’ll need to see you in person.”

“Do I need my lawyer present?”

Another pause. “That’s for you to decide, Mr. Dempsey. As soon as you can make it, we’ll be here.”

The line went dead, and Liam pulled the phone away from his ear and set it in the center console, his hand barely shaking.

“Something went wrong,” Dani said.

“Yes. I think it was a mistake to go to the park last night.”

After dropping Dani off at her hotel amidst her protests, Liam parked in front of the sheriff’s station and went inside, feeling like his steps were those of a man walking death row, last rites only minutes away. Someone must have seen him and Nut. Identified his truck pulling away from the area? Pulled a shoe print from the walkway? He tried to calm himself as he made his way to the partition and smiled at the female deputy behind the glass. Before he could say a word, the door to his left opened and Phelps’s face appeared.

“Mr. Dempsey, thanks for coming down right away. Come in.”

Liam walked through the door, which Phelps held open for him without a word. The door to a room directly to the right stood open. A man younger than Phelps, with a neatly trimmed goatee, sat behind a small table. He wore a black dress shirt and tan slacks. He stood as Liam entered the room, and held out a hand.

“Mr. Dempsey, I’m Special Agent Lee Richardson.”

Liam shook hands with the agent and noticed a white stripe of scar running down the left side of his head and disappearing behind his ear. Phelps shut the door behind Liam, and he felt his insides go cold. This was it. They’d tell him they had him dead to rights at the Haines murder scene, and what could he say? He had been there, but they would never believe it was after the man had been killed.

“Have a seat, Liam,” Phelps said, rounding the desk to sit beside Richardson.

Liam sat in a chair at the table and glanced at the corners of the room. No cameras, but that didn’t mean anything.

Phelps set a digital recorder on the table amidst a few papers and hit a button. “Do you have a problem with us recording our conversation?”

Liam licked his lips as a strange calmness came over him. If this was it, why panic? “That’s fine.”

“State your name, please,” Phelps said.

“Liam Patrick Dempsey.”

“Mr. Dempsey, these questions are concerning the recent murders of your brother, Dr. Allen Dempsey, and his wife, Suzanne Dempsey. Now, can you tell me where you were on the night of the murders?”

Right to it, then. “I was at my home in Nexton.”

“Was anyone with you?”

“No, I live alone.”

“When was the last time you saw your brother and sister-in-law alive?”

“Two years ago, at my father’s funeral.”

Phelps flipped through a stack of papers while Richardson watched him, nodding with each answer. “Mr. Dempsey, are you aware that Suzanne left you a considerable amount of money in the form of a life-insurance plan?”

“I wasn’t until yesterday morning.”

Phelps glanced up from the paperwork. “You’re saying you knew nothing about the insurance policy?”

“That’s right,” Liam said, holding the agent’s gaze. Phelps closed a folder and sat back in his chair.

“I find that hard to believe.”

“It was a shock, that’s for sure,” Liam said, trying to keep his teeth from clenching in anger. “I’m not keeping the money, if you’re insinuating that I killed them because of the policy. I’m researching a charity to give it to at this time. You can also speak to my brother’s lawyer. I think he would give a statement regarding his opinion on whether or not I was aware of Suzie’s policy.”

Richardson’s eyebrows rose slightly, but Phelps remained motionless.

“Were you romantically involved with your brother’s wife, Liam?” Phelps asked.

And there it was, the trip wire that he was supposed to blunder into. Liam’s spirits rose. They didn’t have anything but the insurance policy. “No, I wasn’t. Suzie was a great person, very kind, compassionate. I believe, since my brother and I didn’t see each other very much, she wanted to make sure I’d be taken care of if something ever happened to them.”

“That’s it?” Phelps grunted.

“As far as I can see, that’s it,” Liam said, his eyes boring holes through the other man.

Richardson sat forward, placing his elbows on the table. “Would you be willing to show us the documentation when you finalize the donation?” His voice was low and even, his eyes imploring. This man didn’t suspect him in the least.

“Absolutely,” Liam said. He saw Phelps glance at the other agent and then shift back, examining him before punching the button on the recorder between them.

“That’s all we needed from you, Mr. Dempsey.”

“I’m free to go?”

“Unless there’s anything else you’d like to add,” Phelps said in a mocking tone.

Liam felt the edge of very thin ice beneath his feet, but couldn’t stop himself. “Have there been any developments in the case? I heard rumors about another murder this morning.”

“Where did you hear that?” Phelps asked, his voice an ice pick.

Liam shrugged. “Café, people talking.”

Phelps stared at him, the agent’s jaw muscles flexing inside his cheeks. “We have a suspect in custody, that’s all I can say.”

Liam nodded.
Who?
his mind asked, but he wouldn’t let the word slip out. He had chased two people through the woods this morning; whom did they have in custody now? He stood and turned toward the door, but Phelps spoke as Liam touched the knob.

“Mr. Dempsey, just don’t leave town quite yet, yeah?”

Liam glanced at him over his shoulder. “My brother’s and sister-in-law’s funerals are two days from now. I don’t think I’ll head out until after that.”

Without another look back, he swung the door open and stepped into the hall. Farther down the corridor, he heard a lock opening and the shuffling of feet. He waited, hoping it was the sheriff. When two men entered his field of vision, one in handcuffs and the other following closely behind, his eyes opened wide against the fatigue that had stalked him all morning.

A sheriff’s deputy pushed a ragged-looking man through the entry and into the holding area, and Liam saw Nut’s eyes find his before the door swung closed and blocked him from view.

CHAPTER 12

Liam sat in his truck in the Brenton’s Hardware parking lot, his gaze unfocused and bleary, the image of Nut being led into the cellblock replaying over and over in his mind.

Something had gone wrong, that was apparent. Nut had to have touched something in the park before he arrived. Would the older man crack and mention his name?

Liam tried to convince himself that the latter question wasn’t more important than finding out why Nut was in custody, but the tension created by the thought of his cell phone ringing with a blocked number again was almost too much to bear.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, trying to break the repetitive loop in his mind. He looked across the street and watched a gaggle of teenagers meander along the storefronts. A woman in a ratty sweatshirt, the hood pulled up obscuring her face, passed them in the opposite direction. A news van rolled into view, a jumble of unfamiliar station letters scrawled across its side. It was a circus now, three-ring, with a sideshow to boot, and he was in the center of it all. The news of another murder would travel fast, and there would be no hushing it. Tallston would become a playground for the broadcasters.

Liam sipped the tall coffee he’d picked up from the drive-through at the end of the street. He didn’t flinch at the scalding brew as it slid in a line of fire from his mouth to his stomach.

His cell phone chirped a text message, and when he picked it up, relief swept over him at seeing Dani’s number.

Are you ok?

He typed
yes
and that he would call her soon. What he wouldn’t give right now to go to her hotel and pick her up for lunch, where they could discuss something normal over a drink. Normal—what would that even feel like?

He shook his head. He couldn’t let his focus drift away now that everything had gone from bad to worse. He drummed his fingers once more on the steering wheel, then fired up the Chevy’s engine.

He found the community center only a block from his hotel. It was a one-story brick building fronted completely with glass. The lobby breathed against him with its air-conditioning as he searched the wall of pamphlets and corkboard, avoiding eye contact with the elderly man at the help desk. Words like
Parenthood
and
Group Therapy
jumped out at him in bold letters. He saw advertisements for weekly cribbage clubs, an announcement for a fishing tournament that was three weeks past, and two homemade fliers offering lawn-mowing services. At the very end of the wall, a leaning plastic stand stood on a table amongst a flurry of business-card holders. The faded title at the top of the printout snagged his eyes:
Citizens for Conservation (The Colton Incorporated project and the ecological impact)
.

Liam scanned the paper covered with a few bold statistics and facts until he found a small pyramid of text at the very bottom, consisting of a woman’s name, phone number, and address for group meetings. Liam folded the paper and walked out of the empty center, nodding once at the old man, who watched him go.

The address on the paper led him to a blue Victorian house at the north end of Tallston. A picket fence lined the immaculate front yard, and a newer Ford Explorer rested in the paved driveway. The gate between the fence newels was open, small-town trust at its best, an invitation to walk right up to the front door—which was exactly what he did. After knocking, he heard movement inside the house—a squeaking floorboard and a loud dog bark followed by muffled words of scolding. The door opened, and a tall woman in her sixties stood inside the screen. A stack of gray hair curled away from her head, with two black sticks poking from it. A thin pair of black-framed glasses perched on her nose, behind which two wispy blue eyes studied him.

“Yes?” she asked.

Liam caught movement behind her, and an immense Great Dane with a gray coat meandered to her side, its wide head cocked, matching its owner’s stare.

“Are you Grace Fitger?”

“Yes. Are you with the police? Because I already spoke to those two agents this morning.”

“No, I’m not. My name is Liam Dempsey, I—” He paused, seeing the abrupt change come over the woman’s face, a storm cloud washing her features.

“Oh God,” she said, bringing a hand to her throat. “You’re his brother—you look just like him.”

Liam mimicked the Dane’s movement, tipping his head. “You knew Allen?”

Grace pursed her lips and nodded. “I worked for him for almost twenty years.”

She showed him inside and closed the door behind them, shutting out the brightness of the day. The dog stood in the doorway of the living room until Grace pushed past him, rubbing the Dane’s ear affectionately as she went. Grace and Liam sat in two chairs angled before a tall fireplace in the center of the room. As he got comfortable, the dog came straight to him, their eyes level with each other, and sat so that his head rested on Liam’s thigh. Liam put a hand on the dog’s huge head and rubbed his right ear just as he saw Grace do earlier.

“He’s a big baby,” Grace said. “I got him for protection, and I think he came home with me for the same reason.”

Liam smiled. “What’s his name?”

“Ashes.”

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Ashes?” Liam said, scratching the dog’s ear harder as the Dane began to swish his long tail back and forth across the hardwood floor.

“I’m very sorry about Allen and Suzie,” Grace said.

Liam looked up from the grinning dog. “Thank you.”

“I don’t know what the hell’s happening in this town, but it’s terrifying, to say the least.”

Liam sat back in his chair, and Ashes slid awkwardly to the floor, pinning Liam’s feet beneath the dog’s body. “That’s actually what brought me to you.”

Grace sighed. “Would you like some coffee, Liam?”

“I’d love some.”

She returned to the room a few minutes later and handed him a steaming cup before returning to her seat. “I suppose you’d like to know about my time at Allen’s clinic?”

Liam sipped the coffee, noting its excellence. “Actually, what I’m interested in is the ecological group you started.”

Grace’s eyes narrowed. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard or not, but there’s a rumor around town that Donald Haines was killed last night. He’s the project—”

“I know who he is,” Grace said. “If you came here to make the same accusations that those two agents did this morning, I’ll have to ask you to leave, Allen’s brother or not.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, I just want to ask you some questions.” He took her silence as consent. “Why did you start the group?”

Grace hesitated before answering. “Because I care about nature and despise huge corporations like Colton. I grew up in this town, lived here all my life. I’ve canoed the river more times than I can count, climbed the hills that border Wisconsin until I knew every foothold and path. Hell, I’ve even gone cliff-jumping with people a third of my age over at Corner Bluff.” She leaned forward, cupping her mug in hands that looked worn and used, the skin cracked here and there with cuts and scrapes. “Colton is going to destroy that land across the river, clear-cut the trees, tear the ground up, and salt the earth. It’ll be a barren waste instead of the nature it is now.” A tremor of emotion ran through her voice, and Liam realized that it wasn’t her first time giving this speech, but it wasn’t something she rehearsed.

“How many people are in the group?”

Grace sniffed. “Not enough. This town’s a bunch of hypocrites when it comes to some things. ‘Oh, look at the jewel of Minnesota! We love our wilderness! You want to put a huge pulp plant across the river and cut down all the trees? More money into the community you say? Go right ahead!’ ”

“You’re very passionate about this,” Liam said, taking another sip of coffee.

“I wouldn’t have lost my job if I wasn’t.”

Liam stared at her. “You lost your job?”

“Yep. I was a nurse for your brother for nearly twenty years. I applied for the job shortly after he opened up the clinic. I was working at Fairview in Dayton before that, a half-hour commute every morning. Allen hired me on the spot and treated me well, up until Colton came to town.”

“How was my brother involved with Colton?” Liam asked, already guessing the answer.

“His best friend was Jerry Shevlin. Jerry owned the land that Colton purchased across the river—made a fortune on it, I’m sure, like he needed any more money. Those people were rolling in it. I mean, they made a donation to the clinic every year for over a hundred thousand dollars.”

The picture on Jerry Shevlin’s desk appeared in Liam’s mind like a dealt card on a poker table. “Was there a grand reopening for the clinic that the Shevlins were a part of?”

Grace finished the last of her coffee and set the cup on a table by her chair. “Not really a grand reopening, but an expansion. I have no idea how much the Shevlins donated for that endeavor, but about two years after Allen opened the clinic, he expanded from six rooms to twenty-four. He hired four more nurses and another doctor, not to mention purchased a bunch of equipment that cost a bundle.”

“Why were the Shevlins so generous when it came to the clinic?” Liam asked.

Grace frowned. “I suppose it had something to do with the loss of their child.”

“What happened?” Liam said, sitting forward and disturbing Ashes from his nap.

“It was before I started working at the clinic, but from what I gathered, Karen wanted to do a home birth and Jerry was dead set against it. Well, she had her way, and wouldn’t you know, there were complications. The baby died, and I think the donations were Jerry’s way of raging against his son’s death. It might’ve been a little slap in the face to Karen too, although they stayed together and always looked happy whenever they went gallivanting around town.”

“You don’t seem to be a fan of the Shevlins. I mean, even outside of the Colton issue.”

“They were rotten people, Mr. Dempsey,” Grace said with a chilly voice. “I knew it the first time I saw Jerry throwing rocks at a raft of ducks in the river when he was nine. Same with Karen. She showed up when she was about fifteen, an air about her that she was better than everyone else. I’m sorry they’re dead, but much sorrier for their son, Eric. A kinder boy you couldn’t find.”

“So why did you lose your job?” Liam saw Grace’s mouth tighten at the question.

“I spoke my mind, said I didn’t agree with the sale of the land and what it was going to be used for. I made the mistake of saying it around Allen, and he had words with me one afternoon when we were alone. He told me in no uncertain terms that if I wanted to remain in my position, I would keep any opinions on the matter to myself.” Grace sat a little straighter in her chair. “I quit the next day and put in my notice to run for a seat on the city council.”

“And you won.”

“Damn right I won.” Her head dipped a bit as she rubbed her callused hands together in her lap. “Not that it will do any good when we vote. The other members are friends of our asshole mayor, and if he wants it to go through, it’ll go through. In fact, we’re having a special assembly two days from now to decide if the scheduled meeting to vote on the project will stand despite the recent events . . . and it will.” Her hands clenched into fists, and her gaze extended beyond the room they sat in. “If I were made of stronger stuff, I’d go to the mayor right now and tell him if he didn’t shut the project down, I’d slip a note to his wife about all the excursions he makes up to his cabin with one of the city interns.”

Grace came back to herself and glanced at Liam. “I’m sorry. Here I am blabbering about the town’s dirty laundry.”

“It’s quite all right.”

She studied him for a moment before speaking. “I always wondered why Allen and you didn’t have anything to do with each other, but I never asked.”

“He never spoke of me, did he?” Liam said, hating the flame of hope that flickered in his chest.

“No, but I found a little picture of you and your father in his desk drawer one day when I was looking for a prescription pad. All of you looked alike.”

Liam felt the flame waver and die. “Yes, we did.”

“What did you really want to know?” Grace said.

“You’ve actually answered all my questions.”

“No, you mentioned Donald Haines being murdered and wanted to scope out the leader of the hippie squad as a suspect—am I correct?”

Liam appraised the woman across from him. She was as sharp as a tack. “I was curious, yes, but I didn’t think you were the one writing
lies
on the Colton signs.”

Grace shrugged. “There’s a couple of our members who are a little young and a lot stupid.”

Liam nodded. “Anyone who might go so far as to—”

“Murder that man? No. There’s only five of us in the group, Mr. Dempsey, and I’ve known them all since they were babies.”

“Please, call me Liam. And I really appreciate your help—you’ve been great,” Liam said, standing. Ashes rose from the floor and almost knocked him back into the chair with a nudge from his head.

Grace followed him to the door, and stopped him with a touch of her hand on his shoulder just as he was about to step into the sunlight.