You Can Run... (36 page)

“Last night I heard the story of a thirteen-year-old boy whose crack-addicted parents simply moved one day when he was in school,” Diana continued. “They left him alone to fend for himself on the streets. Would you do that? No. But they were parents and
they
did. So just because
you
would ‘die a thousand deaths’ before you’d hurt one of your children doesn’t mean Cavanaugh feels the same way. Not all parents are alike, Detective Silver.”

The woman had crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing, her face hardening as Diana talked. Dislike—even hostility—had flared in her hazel eyes. But in the minute of silence after Diana stopped talking, the hardness softened, the hostility lessened. Finally she looked down at some papers on her desk, then back up at Diana. “All right, Ms. Sheridan, you’ve made your point.
And much as I hate to admit I can be wrong”—a tiny smile here—“it’s a good point.”

“I’m sorry I offended you.”

“I’m getting over it, but if you really want to get in my good graces again, you’ll let me take a sip of that coffee you’re not drinking.” Diana smiled and nodded. Miriam Silver took a good-sized drink of the steaming coffee without the slightest indication of pain. “For now, I only want to go over two things with you. Both are pieces of evidence. One was found last night and is already stored. It’s a white robe—something like a choir robe—made out of a heavy cotton-polyester blend. We found a few hairs on it, but of course, they must be tested for DNA, which doesn’t happen overnight like it does on television. However, we did identify an iridescent white paint—the kind that glows when you shine a black light on it.”

“The angel!” Diana exclaimed, and Detective Silver tilted her head. “Willow was lured outside the house by what she thought was her guardian angel. She said it wore a white robe and a light shined on its face and the face
glowed
. Those are her exact words.”

“Someone put iridescent white paint on their face and held up a black light to it,” Detective Silver said. “You can buy miniature black lights only five or six inches long. Was this person a man or a woman?”

“Willow got rather huffy about that question. She said angels aren’t boys or girls—they’re just angels.”

“She said nothing about the way the angel moved? Its voice?”

“It ran. It called for her to follow. But she wasn’t looking for male strides versus female. The same with voices. She’s five.”

“And when this
angel
got closer to you?”

“I saw nothing before the
angel
started shooting at us. When the first bullet rang out, I pushed Willow to the ground.”

Detective Silver drained the coffee cup, and Diana briefly wondered if the inside of the woman’s mouth was
heat resistant. She tossed away the Styrofoam cup then picked up a plastic bag. “I know you have a bee in your bonnet about Jeffrey Cavanaugh, but our men were back searching the woods beyond your house early this morning. They found this.”

She handed Diana a small, sealed plastic bag. Inside was a stainless steel, curb link bracelet with a foldover clasp. The bracelet bore a raised red emblem with a silver caduceus in the middle. A medical ID bracelet. Diana maneuvered the bracelet in the bag until she could see the engraved lettering:
GLEN AUSTEN PENICILLIN

He’d told her that he’d worn the bracelet every day since a penicillin reaction nearly killed him when he was fifteen.

“Gosh, I love Heritage Village!” Willow exclaimed as the three of them—Tyler and Diana each holding one of her hands—ambled into the plaza on Veterans Memorial Boulevard across from the Riverfront Park. “I haven’t been here for years!”

Diana smiled. “You were here two months ago with your mother and me.”

“Yeah, well it
seems
like years,” Willow maintained. “Tyler, did you ever come here with Mommy?”

“No. I’m afraid when I came to visit we didn’t do much sightseeing. Will you do the honors of being our tour guide, Diana?”

“Hmmm? Oh, sure.” Diana had left the Detective Bureau shaken. Although she’d marched in with Nan’s damning evidence against Glen in her hand, seeing his bracelet had made her picture him standing over her and Willow in the bizarre white robe, his face painted white, ready to shoot them to death. Obviously he had no reason to kill Willow. He had thrown pebbles against Willow’s window to wake her up, then thrown more pebbles against Diana’s window. After all, he couldn’t have known the cats would awaken her. He’d assumed that once awake, she would
check on Willow, and finding her missing, come in search of her. Diana had been Glen’s real target either because he thought she’d seen him at Nan’s, or because he didn’t want her telling anybody that he’d been involved in the scheme to get money from Jeffrey Cavanaugh, or maybe both. Willow would have been merely collateral damage.

“Ma’am,” Tyler said loudly, “I’m afraid we’re not getting our money’s worth. You’re very pretty but you’re a lousy tour guide.”

“Oh! I’m sorry.” Diana felt flustered, as if she’d really been leading a whole group of tourists. She had to put this morning’s interview with Detective Silver out of her mind. “I’m afraid being with the two of you is so overwhelming, I just don’t know where to start.”

“She has stage fright,” Willow said sagely to Tyler. “That’s when you get scared and can’t talk in front of people. Clarice told me all about it. She said it happened to her in a church play when she was a little girl. That must have been a
long
time ago.”

Tyler grinned. “Yes, well, let’s not remind her of exactly
how
long ago it was.” He looked understandingly at Diana, as if he knew what preoccupied her thoughts. “Perhaps you might begin by telling us the history of this place, ma’am.”

“As you wish,” Diana said brightly. “You probably know that the founder of our city was Collis P. Huntington. He bought the Chesapeake and Ohio Railroad and laid the railroad from Richmond, Virginia, to the Ohio River. Huntington became a transfer point between the riverboats and the railway lines.”

Willow pulled her hands free and clapped. “That was good, Diana! What’s it mean?”

Both Tyler and Diana burst into laughter. “It means the train brought much more business to the city and many people came here and Huntington got
lots
bigger and more important. The importance of the railroad to this city is demonstrated by”—she waved her hand grandly—“the
renovated railway station, an authentic locomotive, as well as a renovated Pullman Car.”

The three of them toured the attractions, Willow asking politely why people would want to drag along in a train when they could fly in a jet and go way up in the clouds. Finally, they visited Huntington’s first bank, built in 1873. Diana told Willow that Jesse James supposedly had robbed the bank in 1875. This brought on a barrage of questions for Tyler about Jesse James, the James Gang, and if Tyler had ever chased them.

At one o’clock, Tyler announced he might keel over from heat and starvation. They let Willow choose the restaurant—The Boston Beanery Restaurant and Tavern—and walked into the cool, antique ambience. They bypassed the long bar and went into the subdued second room. Diana had always favored the thick dark-green carpet, the brick walls, and especially the tin-plated, embossed panels on the ceiling. She ordered a large salad with grilled chicken while Tyler and Willow ordered cheeseburgers. “I warn you,” Diana said. “Those aren’t regular-sized cheeseburgers.” Both assured her they could eat every bite.

“What was the name of the policeman who talked to you?” Willow finally asked.

“I gave my statement to a lady detective named Miriam Silver.”

“A
lady
detective,” Willow said in awe. “Was she nice?”

“Very. And smart. She told me she has children.”

“Wow. They let you be a detective when you have kids?”

“I hope so,” Tyler said, giving Diana a look full of meaning. “I’m a detective and I want to have kids some day.”

“You have me.” Willow’s voice sounded half statement, half plea.

“Well, of course, but you’re not considered my daughter, honey. Some people would say you’re my niece.”

Willow looked down, her smile flagging. “People will say I’m the Bad Man’s kid and make me go with him. I
know
it.”

Willow’s lower lip trembled. Tyler looked at Diana helplessly. Diana could think of nothing both comforting and true to say, so she decided to pursue the subject. “Willow, who taught you to call Jeffrey Cavanaugh the Bad Man?”

“Mommy.”

“Oh. Did she show you a picture of him?”

“Yeah. Just one picture but a lot of times. She said I should never go anywhere with him, but if someone
made
me go with him, I shouldn’t talk to him because he’s
so
bad. She said I should be afraid of him.”

“Willow, did the man in the picture ever hurt you?” Diana asked. “Did he ever hit you or smack you or do things to you that you didn’t like?”

Willow looked confused. “Things like what?”

“Oh, touch you or . . .” Diana was surprised by her embarrassment. “Did he just make you uncomfortable?”

“Diana,” Tyler said in an almost-warning voice while Willow scrunched up her face in deep thought.

Finally Willow said, “I don’t think he did anything. I don’t remember.”

“Did he hit your mommy?”

“Well . . . maybe he did, but I don’t remember about that, either. How come you’re askin’ me all these questions?”

“I just wondered why your mommy thinks that man is bad.”

“What about how he acted in the park?” Willow asked defensively. “He was gonna hit you. Besides, Mommy knows when people are bad. She wouldn’t tell me he was bad if he wasn’t.”

Their glasses of iced tea arrived, breaking the tension of the moment. Tyler made a great production of asking Willow if her tea was sweet enough, cold enough, and if she had enough lemon, while he kept flashing mildly critical
glances at Diana. She wished she hadn’t asked Willow about her father, but she’d done so without thought, or so it seemed. Maybe she’d been thinking about the questions ever since she’d left Detective Silver.

“As your tour guide, may I present Marshall University,” Diana announced. “Willow, this is where Uncle Simon taught, where I went to college, and where your mommy took classes last year. The university was first a college founded in 1837 and named for Chief Justice John Marshall. You are standing in front of its first building, known as Old Main. If you will kindly pose, I would like to take a picture of you.”

Willow, always a willing subject, gave Diana a demure pose in front of the three-story building with its two gothic-inspired towers and the bust of John Marshall. She then insisted that Diana take another shot that “makes me look like I go to school here like you and Mommy did.” This required Willow to carry a steno notebook that Diana found in the depths of her tote bag, and wear a look of frowning concentration as she climbed the steps to the building’s entrance. Diana didn’t have the heart to tell her that administrative offices now filled Old Main rather than classrooms.

“You’re quite the actress,” Tyler said after the photo shoot. “You looked just like a teenage girl going in to take a
very
hard test.”

“Thank you,” Willow answered modestly. “I just copied how Mommy looked whenever she was gonna have a test. She always worried.”

“And she always did well.” Diana smiled. “I wish she could have come here full-time instead of just taking one class a semester.”

“But then she wouldn’t have worked for Uncle Simon
and I woulda never got to meet him and you and Romeo and Christabel. That would have been a tragedy,” Willow pronounced solemnly.

Diana smiled. “It would certainly have been a tragedy for the four of us if we hadn’t met you and your Mommy.” Diana felt the damnable tears rising in her eyes again and said, “Let’s go explore some more of the campus.”

An oddly luminous aqua sky stretched clear and low beyond them, and Diana couldn’t resist taking more pictures than she’d intended. She did not ignore Willow and Tyler, though. She caught both of them in front of the graceful Drinko library. She told them that because of the prominence of glass used in its architecture, at night the building glowed with light from top to bottom.

Tyler suggested they go to the student center that Penny had described to him. Willow agreed, saying that her mother had promised to show it to her when Penny went back to school. Tyler and Diana exchanged looks, Diana swallowing hard knowing that Penny would not be starting school in two weeks. When they entered, Willow’s eyes widened as they traveled around the large central lounge. Diana told her the center also contained a cafeteria and three dining rooms.

A few students were already visiting the bookstore in the student center, and Willow suddenly turned shy when a beautiful young student with long black hair and torn jeans said, “Oh, my, what a pretty little girl! You two must be proud of her!”

Tyler merely said, “We sure are,” but both Willow and Diana blushed, Willow seeming to realize for the first time that she was only five, not eighteen, and Diana suddenly aware that they did look like a family.

Diana hurried them down to the basement to see the pool tables—where Tyler challenged Diana to a game she unfortunately didn’t play—the table tennis tables, the lounge, and the large-screen television. The tables weren’t in use, but Diana knew that would change in a couple of weeks.

When they emerged from the campus side of the student center, Willow pointed to the large copper-patina fountain. “How come they put a fountain there?” she asked.

“This is the Memorial Student Center Plaza,” Diana answered. “They built the entire student center to commemorate the football team who died in a plane crash in November 1970.”

“The whole football team?” Willow gasped.

“Yes. Along with coaches and supporters of the team and the crew. The crash killed all seventy-five people aboard the plane.”

Tyler shook his head. “From the time I was old enough to get interested in football, I read about that crash. As I remember, the plane coming in for a landing hit some treetops about a mile away from the airport. They were so close to being safe.”