The Stone of Sadness (An Olivia Miller Mystery Book 3) (18 page)

“He told you we talked?” she asked. “He must have decided to clear his name once and for all.” Olivia rubbed her forehead. “Oh, God.”

“How could it be a match?” Father Mike’s words traveled on just a wisp of voice. His hands shook.

“It can’t be a match. It can’t be.” Olivia looked at the priest’s white face and trembling hands. His lips were parted slightly and his breathing seemed uneven. “Father Mike, let me get you something to drink. What if I make some tea? My boyfriend’s mom says tea makes everything better.” She smiled weakly. She watched his face. She wasn’t sure if she might have to call an ambulance.

“He shouldn’t have offered to take the test,” Father Mike whispered. Tears streamed over his cheeks.

“Kenny is innocent,” Olivia said.

“Is he? How can he be? If the DNA matches?” The priest’s face crumpled.

Olivia took his hands. “Kenny is innocent. You’ve known that for forty years. Kenny needs you now. He needs help. We’ll try to figure this out.”

Father Mike swallowed hard. Lily rested her chin on the priest’s knee.

“I’m going to make some tea,” Olivia said. “Lily will stay here with you. I’ll only be a minute. We’ll take the tea out on the porch. We’ll sit and talk. It’s going to be alright.”

Father Mike nodded.

Olivia walked down the hall to the kitchen to make the tea. She choked back her own tears. She couldn’t show her worry and fear to Father Mike.
Oh, God. I shouldn’t have talked to Kenny. I should have left it alone. I’ve ruined his life.

Jackie came through the backdoor just as Olivia was filling the teapot with shaking hands. “Hey, I was thinking of …” she stopped short. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Olivia stood still with the teapot in one hand. She was afraid of saying anything for fear of bursting into tears.

“Olivia?” Jackie said. “What’s wrong?”

“Father Mike is in the living room,” she whispered. She told Jackie what was going on. She couldn’t keep tears from falling.

“Jesus…” Jackie said. She took the teapot from Olivia and put it on the burner. “This can’t be. Maybe the evidence got contaminated. Maybe they made some kind of mistake handling the specimen. Maybe someone is trying to frame him.”

Olivia wiped her eyes on the dishtowel. “I have to pull myself together. I thought Father Mike was going to have a heart attack. I have to be strong in front of him.” She locked eyes with Jackie. “God, Jackie. What a mess.”

“You’ll figure it out, Olivia. You’re smart.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “I’m stupid. I should have stayed out of it.”

The kettle whistled and Jackie poured the water into the two mugs standing on the counter.

“You want me to sit and talk with you two?” Jackie asked. “Put our heads together?”

“I better talk to Father Mike alone first. He is still trying to process this. Will you come out to the porch in a few minutes? Help us think this through?” Olivia picked up the mugs and noticed the vegetables she had been chopping were still on the cutting board. “Oh, the shepherd’s pie. Our dinner.”

“Go,” Jackie said. “I’ll clean up. I’ll put the veggies in the fridge. We can get takeout tonight. We’ll have the shepherd’s pie another time. I’ll work on the sunroom for a bit. Then I’ll come and join you on the porch. Call me if you need me sooner.”

Olivia, Father Mike, and Jackie sat together and talked and they determined that there wasn’t a whole lot they could do. They assumed the lawyer would have Kenny out on bail. Father Mike would gather news as a contact person with Kenny’s lawyer and would share anything of importance with Olivia. Olivia would keep digging into the case with the hopes of finding something, anything, that the lawyer might be able to use to fight the accusation.

A question hung in the air between them but no one said it out loud. A wrinkle of doubt had edged into their minds.
Was it Kenny? Was he the killer?

Olivia pulled her Jeep into a space in the lot next to Emily Bradford’s accounting office. The business was on the first floor of a five story brick building situated on a tree lined street in Brookline.

Something Father Anthony Foley said to Olivia had been floating around in her head. He had mentioned that a jogger stopped by the church on the afternoon of the murders. Olivia had a question that she wanted to pose to Emily and she thought she might get a more truthful answer if she appeared at the office unannounced. She opened the heavy glass door that led to the lobby and saw the finely polished door that fronted the Bradford Accounting Firm. When she approached the reception desk, a thirty something dark haired woman glanced up and smiled at Olivia.

“May I help you?”

Olivia returned the smile. “I don’t have an appointment. Would Emily have a few minutes to speak with me?”

“Ms. Bradford is out of the office at the moment. I’m not sure when she’ll be returning. Can I make an appointment for you?”

“Oh, I see, no. It isn’t business-related,” Olivia told her. “I took a chance of catching her. I’ll have to give her a call.”

The receptionist looked over Olivia’s shoulder. “You’re in luck. Here she is now, actually.”

Emily Bradford whooshed into the room dressed in a fitted tan business suit and beige heels carrying a caramel colored leather briefcase, tapping away at the phone in her hand. She briefly looked up as she headed to her office and when she saw Olivia she stopped in her tracks.

“Olivia,” Emily said without emotion.

“Hi. I know you’re busy. I stopped by to see if we could talk for a minute.”

Olivia could see a negative response start to form on Emily’s face. “I’d only take a few minutes of your time,” Olivia said. “I just have a couple of questions that I hoped you could answer.” She took a hopeful step toward Emily.

Emily sighed. “Come into my office.” She turned and headed down a hallway that had office doors lining both sides of the corridor. Emily called over her shoulder to the receptionist. “If Mr. Martin comes in, just have him sit for a minute. I won’t be long.”

Olivia trailed after her.

Emily flung open the corridor’s last door and dropped her briefcase on a cream colored leather sofa. She waved Olivia to one of the chairs in front of the massive walnut desk.

“What can I do for you?” Emily asked as she pressed some of the keys of her laptop without looking at Olivia.

Olivia was slightly taken aback by Emily’s business-like manner.

“I was wondering what you were feeling about the arrest news,” Olivia said. “I assume you must have heard.”

Emily stared at Olivia. “You came to ask about my feelings?”

Olivia blinked. “It’s big news. I wondered what you thought of it.”

Emily seemed baffled by the question. “My focus is on my business. I’ve been straight-out.”

“Surely you’ve heard the news that Kenny Overman was arrested?”

Emily nodded. “Yeah, I heard it.”

Olivia was becoming exasperated. “You dated. You fought with your parents over him. He’s been arrested for murdering two people.”

Emily leaned back against her chair. “It’s ancient history. I have no connection to him.”

“But once you did. Aren’t you curious? Do you have any thoughts on his arrest?”

Emily fiddled with the stapler on her desk. “My first reaction was what took them so long. After all these years they make an arrest. I wondered why they didn’t arrest him years ago.”

“They claim his DNA matched samples from the crime scene. They didn’t have that technology years ago.” Emily didn’t say anything so Olivia continued, “Were you surprised that Kenny was arrested?”

“Surprised? I guess not.”

“Because you think he was capable of such things?”

“Because you can never really know a person.” Emily shrugged.

“Do you think he did it?”

“He must have. The DNA.”

“What if he was set up?” Olivia asked.

“Set up how? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know. Contaminated samples. Someone who just wanted the case solved.”

“That would be you wouldn’t it?” Emily said. “The person who just wants the case solved?”

“I don’t have access to the samples,” Olivia said, a tinge of annoyance in her tone.

“Your idea seems off-base. How could someone contaminate samples? Kenny showed up at the police station. He said to test him. They did. His DNA matched.”

“Exactly. Why would a guilty man show up forty years later and asked to be tested?”

“Conscience?”

“Really? You think so?”

“I have no idea. I’m not a psychologist,” Emily said.

“Would you like to see Kenny? Talk to him?”

Emily sat up straight. “God, no. For what? What on earth would we have to say to each other?”

“You were friends. You had a relationship. I thought you might have things to say.”

Emily shook her head. “I’m afraid not. All we needed to say to each other we said forty years ago. It was a fling, Olivia. There was nothing deep. I liked how dating him drove my parents crazy. He was fun for a while. There was nothing long lasting about it. I knew it. He knew it.”

“Aren’t you concerned about the way things have turned out for him? About what’s going to happen to him?”

“Really? No,” Emily said. “We all make our own beds. We all make our choices. Then we have to deal with the consequences. I’ve worked hard for what I have. No one gave it to me. I made a choice to be a successful businesswoman…to build my business…to make investments…to take care of myself.”

“You had certain advantages that Kenny never had.”

“True.” Emily’s eyes narrowed. “I also had some disadvantages that Kenny never had.”

Olivia was about to speak when Emily said, “Listen. He’ll have a trial. If he didn’t do it, he’ll get off. Case closed.”

“I need to ask you a question about the day of the murders. I talked with Father Anthony Foley recently,” Olivia said.

“Anthony?” Emily’s voice was shrill. “He’s in the area?”

“He’s at a parish in a small town in Connecticut.”

“How on earth did you find him?” Emily questioned.

“I called the diocese office and asked,” Olivia said. “Were you at St. Catherine’s on the afternoon of the murders? Were you out jogging?”

Emily’s eyes clouded. Her lips were pressed tightly together. “Why would that possibly matter?”

“Did you see Mary that day? Did you see her at the church rec hall? In the church parking lot?”

“I went to New York that day.”

Olivia studied Emily’s face. “Why did you stay in the city for such a short time?”

“What?” Emily spit the word out.

“You were already home when your mother returned from Boston. If you
did
go to New York, you could only have been there for less than two hours.”

Emily’s eyes darkened. “I don’t know what Father Anthony told you but I wouldn’t believe everything that comes out of his mouth.” She stood up. “I really need to get back to work.”

Olivia hesitated then stood up and walked to the door.

She left the building and slumped in her parked car staring into space. Emily Bradford’s reaction to Kenny’s arrest stumped Olivia. She was surprised at how indifferent Emily was about the turn of events. But it was a long time ago and her relationship with Kenny was based solely on how it annoyed her parents.
What did Emily mean about not believing what Father Anthony said? Why would she say that? Was Emily at St. Catherine’s that day? Or did she go to New York?

Olivia sighed and started the engine.

In the afternoon, Olivia and Lily walked along the old raised rail trail. Dense thickets of oaks, maples and pines soared on either side of the path. A wide lake opened to their right. Lily’s ears perked up and she turned her head to Olivia.

“Go ahead,” Olivia said. She knew the dog was itching to leap into that water.

With permission given, Lily raced down the hill and ran along the edge of the lake, weaving between and under brush and bushes. Olivia kept walking. She knew Lily would find her on the trail when she was finished swimming and exploring the area near the water.

Olivia pulled her camera from her pocket. She knelt and shot some wild flowers growing next to a rocky cliff rising from the side of the trail. A path veered off to the left and Olivia thought she could hear water running. She walked that way eager to find the source of the sound, hoping for a small waterfall. She knew Lily would locate her with her keen sense of smell.

When they went for their daily walks in the woods, Lily would often venture off sometimes for fifteen minutes and then, after she had had her adventure, would come bounding up behind Olivia at full speed and then jump around as if she were trying to convey to Olivia what she had seen or done.

Olivia crouched on one knee framing a shot with her camera when she heard rustling off to the side. Expecting Lily, Olivia turned. A Jack Russell terrier zoomed out of the woods straight at her. The dog ran past, turned on a dime, and shot past again. This went on several times, back and forth, back and forth. Olivia laughed, which caused the dog to slide to a stop. The terrier stared at her for a second, leaped into the air and began its running sequence again up and down past Olivia. Olivia sat, entertained by the crazy dog’s antics. She heard feet crunching and turned to see Robin from the Sports Bar Restaurant trudging up the path. She was breathing hard, her face bright pink.

“Olivia! How are you?” The dog changed direction and tore down the path toward Robin. “How do you like this crazy dog?”

Olivia stood, brushing the dirt from her butt. “Hi, Robin. I was enjoying the show.” She laughed. “I was wondering how long he could keep it up.”

“Oh, God. For hours,” Robin puffed. “Why didn’t we just get a tiny lap dog?” The terrier took off down the trail and the women headed in that direction. “Walk slow,” Robin requested. “This dog is killing me. I need to catch my breath.”

Olivia looked behind them for Lily. She had been gone longer than usual.

“Lily went down to the pond for a swim,” Olivia said. “She’s been gone for a while.”

“She’s probably enjoying the water. You know how Labs are. So how are you? Enjoying your stay at John’s house?”