Winter Break (19 page)

‘Maybe my house guests do.’ There. She felt better. At least she’d pointed Rivers in the right direction. ‘Oh – and I’ve seen an SUV driving around. Slowly. As if it’s on surveillance.’

‘Okay.’ Rivers watched her, not moving. ‘You look pale, Mrs Jennings. And given what’s happened, I’d like to suggest that you and your family leave the house. Stay in a hotel for a few days.’

‘You think they’ll try again?’

‘I don’t know.’ She paused. ‘But just in case.’

Harper sat up straighter. Refused to retreat. No one was going to chase her out of her own home. ‘We’ll be fine here. Really.’

Rivers sat motionless. ‘I think you should reconsider.’

Neither spoke for a while.

Harper didn’t budge. ‘Is there something else?’ she asked.

Rivers tilted her head. ‘Actually, I’m not sure. It’s a hunch, really. And I’m debating whether to talk to you about it.’

Harper waited.

‘Okay. I might as well. It’s not about your bomb. It’s about that boy who went missing. That kid from Elmira.’

Really?

‘Turns out he was still here in Ithaca the night he disappeared. Staying at his girlfriend’s. A couple of his buddies say he was in a pretty serious relationship, hardly ever came back to his own place.’

‘Did you talk to his girlfriend?’

‘Thing is, his friends claim they don’t know her name. Neither had ever met her. And his parents say he never even mentioned having a girlfriend. We searched his apartment, but nothing there indicated who he was seeing.’

Harper was confused, not certain why the detective was telling her this.

‘So here’s the deal, Mrs Jennings. Sebastian was reportedly in Ithaca and disappeared the very same night you saw that assault out your window – that makes me wonder: What if that wasn’t a coincidence? What if you were right, and that naked guy you saw fighting in the snow really was Sebastian Levering?’

‘Detective, I’ve spent days wondering the same thing.’ Unconsciously, Harper’s hand wandered into her jacket pocket, toyed with the key she’d found in the woods.

‘If it was Sebastian, then your second call to us might take on new significance. What if someone besides those two boys has been hiding out next door in the fraternity house?’

The questions rattled Harper’s skull. ‘You think he’s in there? But Evan and Sty would have found him—’ She stopped, mid-sentence. The house was big, had probably twenty or thirty bedrooms. If he were hiding, they might have no idea.

And if he were badly injured or dead, Sebastian would make no sounds.

Rivers misunderstood the silence. ‘Right. It’s far-fetched. But, even so, I can’t reject the possibility. I spoke to the boys – Sty and Evan? They say they haven’t seen or heard anything out of the ordinary there.’

Harper nodded. Fingered the key.

‘And I don’t know what to think about the girlfriend. Because if Sebastian had somebody here in Ithaca, where is she? Why hasn’t she come forward? Is she involved in his disappearance?’

‘Maybe she’s missing, too,’ Harper offered. ‘Hell, maybe they eloped.’

Rivers rubbed her eyes, sighing. ‘Maybe. But nobody’s reported a missing woman. If she went with him, why hasn’t anyone noticed her gone?’ She started to get up. ‘Sorry to trouble you with all of this, Mrs Jennings. You have your own crisis. Plus, you need to take it easy. I just thought you might have some insights.’

‘Only this.’ Harper pulled out the key. ‘Remember? It was in the woods the day after the fight. You said it probably was nothing, but if it fits Sebastian’s apartment, then—’

‘Then we’ll have evidence that he was the guy you saw.’ Rivers smiled, taking it. ‘It would be another piece of the puzzle. Good thinking. Thanks. I’ll let you know.’ She stood, getting ready to go. ‘What? You look like there’s more.’

Yes, there was. Lou, of course. But also, Evan and Sty. They bothered her. She had no evidence that they’d done anything wrong, nothing to indicate that they even knew Sebastian Levering. No reason to think that they’d ever tried blowing up anything but an air mattress. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Nada.’ And again, even though it was technically the truth, Harper felt as if she’d lied.

By the time Rivers was finished talking to Vivian and Lou, Leslie had returned. Harper introduced them, when she realized Leslie had been present earlier, Rivers took her into the living room to interview her. Lou, Vivian and Harper sat around the kitchen table.

‘So.’ Lou took a deep breath, folded his hands.

‘So?’ Harper’s adrenalin rush had passed; suddenly, she was spent.

‘So. What did you tell her?’

Oh. ‘You can stop worrying. I told her what I knew for sure. Not what I’d been told by you.’

Vivian looked at Lou, who looked at Harper, his face a question. ‘You didn’t mention—’

‘I said nothing about your clients or your fake identity or your stolen stash—’

‘Harper. Keep it down.’ Vivian looked around. ‘She’ll hear you.’

‘You know what, Ma? If she hears, she hears. You two do what you want, but I’m not going to conspire with you to hide things from the police. You have a couple of days. That’s it, and then I want you out, Lou.’

‘A couple of days? Be realistic, Harper. That’s Christmas.’

Harper rolled her eyes. ‘Really? Okay. Then leave the day after.’

Vivian sniffed. ‘I can’t believe you’re behaving this way, Harper. We came here to help you in your time of need, and you’re completely ungrateful. Think about how this makes me feel – kicked out by my own daughter?’

‘I’m not kicking you out, Ma.’ Harper began to explain that the only one getting kicked out was Lou, but she stopped. Her mother would always find a way to feel like a victim.

‘Bottom line, Harper. You didn’t say anything that leads to me?’

‘She already told you, Lou,’ Vivian snapped. ‘She didn’t. She wouldn’t do that.’

‘And you, Viv? What did you say to her, just so I know?’

‘Nothing.’

‘You were with her half an hour. That’s a long time to say nothing.’

‘Okay, let me think.’ Vivian thought, rubbed her forehead. ‘You know, I really wish I’d never stopped smoking. I’d kill for a cigarette.’

‘Vivian.’ Lou leaned forward, pressing her. ‘Tell me.’

‘I told her I had no idea who threw that. Then she asked if I’d seen anything unusual around here lately. I didn’t tell her about you going out at night. Or about your business with the money. All I said was that I’d seen a car driving around – you must have seen it. A black SUV?’

‘You said that?’ Lou sat back. ‘But you didn’t tell her the make?’

‘I don’t know the make. What’s wrong? You didn’t tell me not to tell her about any car—’

‘Go on. What did she say?’

‘About the car? She asked for details. Like the license, the model. I didn’t know any of that.’

‘But why did you even mention that car, Vivian?’ Lou whined. ‘For all you knew, it was a neighbor. Now she’s going to have every cop in town out looking for black SUVs and, what with the holiday, there aren’t many around.’

‘Why would she, Lou? Just because I saw it driving around doesn’t mean the bomb came from that car.’ She paused, watching him pout. ‘Why wasn’t I supposed to mention it – is that your client’s car?’

Lou drummed his fingers on the table, blinked rapidly at air.

‘Oh, cut it out, Lou.’ Harper headed for the refrigerator, deciding not to mention that she’d also told Rivers about the car. ‘There are a ton of black SUVs. Nobody’s going to pick that one out. Besides, you said you’re working it out with them. So they can just stay the hell away.’

‘I don’t understand why you even mentioned it, is all.’ He pouted at Vivian. ‘I mean why would you even mention it?’

‘I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to – it just came out. Sorry, Lou. Really. I didn’t know.’ Vivian reached over, put her arms around Lou’s neck, planting kisses all over his face.

Harper tried to ignore them, focusing instead on the leftover pastries from the morning, grabbing a piece of apple strudel, pouring a glass of milk. Chewing, she closed her eyes. They would leave in a few more days. Just a few more days.

Leslie stayed for a while after Detective Rivers left, making sure that Harper was relaxed. She was, in fact, beyond relaxed; her eyelids drooped and she almost dozed off in her chair while Lou and Vivian chattered on. Lou insisted that Leslie stay for cookies and coffee, apologizing for the scare that morning, asking about her bruises and scrapes, complaining about their own, raving about the boys next door and how thoughtful they’d been. Leaving Leslie and Harper no chance to talk privately.

The house, meantime, was freezing; cold air poured through the smashed dining room window, crept into the living room, the kitchen, the hall. As soon as Leslie left, Lou began sweeping up shards of glass and taped sheets of thick plastic to cover the ugly gaping hole. Harper didn’t thank him; the damage was his fault. Cleaning up the mess was the least he could do. Still wearing her parka, she went upstairs to nap. Her head ached, her body felt swollen, and she missed Hank. Wanted him to come home. Didn’t care, at that moment, about his career or his opportunities. Just wanted him there with her. Climbing under the comforter, she wondered what he’d have done about the bomb. How he’d have reacted to Lou and his shady, no doubt criminal dealings. She tried to picture it, but fell asleep almost immediately, questions still on her mind.

Two hours later, Harper woke up with a start, as if she’d just heard Hank’s voice. Of course she hadn’t; the voice had been a dream. But, popping out of bed, sitting at her computer wrapped in her parka, she wondered why she hadn’t thought of Googling Ed Strunk days ago, when the package had first arrived.

She didn’t find Ed Strunk or Edmond Strunk. Or Edward Strunk. But she did find Edgar Louis Strunk. There were a bunch of articles, and photos of Ed, aka Lou. He was originally from Elizabeth, New Jersey, and owned a small trucking company, just as he’d said. But what he hadn’t said was that he was wanted by the federal government for questioning regarding conspiracy in connection with mob activity. Harper pored through the stories, some of which mentioned Lou only in passing. And gradually, putting pieces together, she got a clear picture of the man who was dating her mother.

Ed Strunk was a bagman. Lou, the guy staying in her house, had been suspected of collecting gambling debts, loan sharking and drug money for a mob boss named Vincent Parks (aka Wally Parks, aka Vinnie Wallace) and transporting it for him across state lines, using his trucks and legitimate shipments as cover. The Feds had been about to arrest him in 2010, but he’d disappeared suddenly, and foul play was suspected.

Foul play? Harper clenched her jaw, considering it. After all, if authorities thought the man was already dead, what harm would there be in making them right? She stared at the computer, rereading random sentences, muscles braced to fight, until she couldn’t hold back any more and stormed out of her room, bellowing, ‘Lou!’

She found him in the living room beside the behemoth tree. Cuddling Vivian by the fireplace, sharing rum and egg-nog.

‘A word, Lou.’ She was panting, hands on her hips.

‘Harper?’ Vivian drawled. ‘Good God. Again? What’s the problem now?’

‘This doesn’t concern you, Ma. I’m talking to him.’ She pointed an accusing finger.

Lou stood. ‘What’s on your—?’

‘No, Lou.’ Vivian grabbed his wrist. ‘Sit back down. She can’t just barge in here like that, with that attitude, pointing her finger. It’s rude – it’s bad enough what she did earlier, telling us to leave. As if we were vagrants.’

‘It’s all right, Vivian.’ Lou patted her hand. ‘I’ll be right back.’ He pecked her cheek, drained the egg-nog in his glass, and followed Harper into the dining room. ‘What’s up, Kiddo?’

Kiddo? Harper wheeled around and jabbed him in the chest. ‘Don’t play dumb, Edgar. I know the whole story about who you are and what you’ve done. I don’t know what game you’re playing with my mother, but how dare—’

‘Hold on. Shh. Keep your voice down—’

‘—bring mob money – stolen mob money – into this house. Are you insane?’

‘Harper, I swear.’ He glanced around, making sure Vivian wasn’t there. ‘I’m not playing games. That’s not who I am any more. That’s all behind me.’

‘Behind you? Seriously? That’s why they threw a bomb—’

‘I already told you. It’s taken care of – or almost. I got it all worked out . . .’

‘You do?’

‘I do.’ Lou made the sign of the cross on his chest.

‘Exactly how?’

‘Fine. I’ll tell you how,’ he whispered. ‘I’m giving them what they want. Their money. All of it. With interest.’

‘With interest? And how are you going to do that, rob a bank?’

‘I was thinking maybe a convenience store.’ He tried to smile.

Harper glared until all traces of his grin had disappeared.

Lou drew a deep breath. ‘Okay. I’ll be honest – I don’t have it all. I spent a chunk of it. Look, I had to; I was keeping a low profile and couldn’t touch my assets. So I had to use some of it to live off. But—’

‘Wait. You’re saying you don’t have the money?’ She was ready to pummel him.

‘Listen to me. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.’ He looked around again. ‘I’m getting it – I got a guy who’ll cover it.’

‘What do you mean, “cover it”?’

‘He’s an old friend. We go way back; we were kids in Jersey. He’s going to spot me the cash.’

‘A loan.’

‘Fine. A loan. Call it whatever—’

‘So how will you pay him back? Or is he going to come after—?’

‘Don’t worry about that. This is legitimate. I’m signing an IOU.’

‘Yeah? With what name this time?’

Lou put a hand on her shoulder; she yanked it off.

‘Okay. I get that you don’t like me, Harper.’

Like him? What? Harper stepped closer until her belly bumped him. He was almost a foot taller than she, but she looked up, piercing him with her eyes, snarling. ‘Listen, asshole. Liking you isn’t even on the radar. I don’t even want to know you. And if it were up to me, my mother wouldn’t either. She wouldn’t bother to wipe her shoes with you – you’re scum.’

Lou took a step back and looked away, wincing. Harper saw his chin quiver and, for a moment, regretted her words. Lord, was he really going to cry? She bit her lip, dreading it, but told herself that it didn’t matter. What if he did? After all, he deserved far worse than tears for all the trouble he’d caused.