Death Angel (6 page)

What had she done with the candy
wrapper? Had she dropped it in the woods? It wasn’t in the ashtray or wedged
behind the car seat. He’d searched the entire car and couldn’t find it. If the
police had found the wrapper maybe they wouldn’t think anything about it. Kids
always carried candy in their pockets.

He couldn’t afford to make another
mistake. He had to go on the assumption that the police found the wrapper and
get rid of the rest of them. Or at least keep them hidden. Too many secrets.
His brain felt overloaded with everything he had to remember.
 

It was done. Nothing could change what
had happened. All that mattered at the moment was to protect himself. And the
COP was his greatest danger.

COP
eyes see too much.

Kate had heard of out-of-body experiences
and wondered if that was what was happening. She was present at the funeral
service but it was as if she were not a part of the proceedings. The pew
beneath her was unyielding, yet she had no sense of the solid oak against her
thighs. The organ music came from a distance, the sounds muted and wavery as
though she were underwater.

Jenny loved me
in the springtime

When the buds
were on the trees

Once the chill
winds bared the branches

Jenny left me
in the fall.

Kate closed her eyes and tried to
remember if those were actually the words of the song. Was it a song? Maybe it
was a poem. She couldn’t recall where she had heard it. Over and over, she
rolled each syllable inside her head. It was very important to recall the exact
sequence of the words. She fixed her eyes on a spot above Father Blaney’s head
and ran through the lyrics again. She wished she could say them out loud.
 

She opened her mouth to speak but some
slight motion must have penetrated Richard’s consciousness because he turned to
her and reached over to pat her knee. She closed her mouth. Directing her eyes
to the large crucifix suspended over the altar, she concentrated on the details
of the hanging Christ, noting the contrast between the black iron spikes and
the white skin of the porcelain hands. She closed her mind to the words of the
funeral service.
 

She glanced down at Richard’s hand
resting on her knee, her own fingers clenched around his wrist. She was cold,
and it frightened her that Richard’s proximity brought her no warmth. In the
days since Jenny’s death, he had touched her and held her but he could not
reach below the surface to give her comfort. It was almost as if Jenny’s
absence had opened a void between them that could never again be filled.

Her eyes flickered to the tiny coffin
standing isolated in front of the altar. She averted her gaze, listening to the
words filling her mind.

Jenny
wandered free and happy

Dashing
through the summer sunshine

Even though
she’s gone forever

I can still
hear Jenny’s call.

It didn’t sound right. Kate started over
but as she repeated the second verse, she stumbled over the word “forever.” She
tried moving her mouth to form the sounds but her lips were unyielding.
 

Oh
please God please God please God.
 

The organ chords trembled at the
beginning of another hymn. Richard stood and his hand dropped away from her.
Kate pressed back against the wooden seat. She wanted to remain where she was,
sitting perfectly still until she became invisible. She didn’t want to
participate.
 

Even as rebellion built within her, she
knew such behavior would draw the eyes of the congregation and that she could
not permit. She could bear the furtive glances, but not the full weight of all
that attention.
 

She stood. One. Two. Three. Six tile
roses edged the doorway into the chancery.

Jenny smiled
at all the young men

Flocking round
her day and night

In her eyes I
saw the message

Jenny loved me
best of all.

Movement on the edge of her vision broke
through her concentration. Carl Leidecker slipped in the side door and walked
toward the back of the church. For the funeral, he was dressed in a dark suit,
but despite the plain clothes she knew he was attending in an official
capacity, watching their friends and neighbors, eyes once more full of
questions.
 

Questions. Endless questions and still
no answers.

Kate gripped the wooden handrail of the
pew, absorbing the vibrations of sound through her palms. Father Blaney left
the altar and approached the coffin. A whimper slipped through her control and
she reached out in panic for Richard, plucking at the sleeve of his suit. His
head was bowed and his whole body shook. She enclosed his fingers in her own,
clinging to him, as they followed the casket up the aisle.

The doors of the church opened and Kate
flinched. Police, reporters, and a group of onlookers waited on the sidewalk.
Cameramen jostled for position on the stairs, one lens no more than two feet
away. Kate instinctively brought her hand up to shield her face. Richard pulled
her against his side, shouldering his way through the crowd to where the coffin
was being placed inside the hearse.

One. Two. Kate focused on the cars drawn
up at the curb. Nineteen. Twenty. And others in the parking lot, marked with
the purple funeral stickers to indicate they would be going to the cemetery.
Kate remembered how for months after her cousin Connie’s funeral, a residue of
glue had stuck to the windshield, catching at the rubber edge of the wipers
whenever it rained.

The back door of the hearse closed with
a leaden sound, and Richard led her to the funeral home limousine. The crowd of
reporters surged forward, pressing against the sides of the car, and she shrank
against Richard, closing her eyes to block out the avid curiosity on the faces
outside the windows.

She shed no tears during the ceremony at
the graveside, received no comfort from the traditional words. None of it had
any relationship to Jenny of the twinkly eyes. Jenny, of the dirt-streaked face
and straggly black pigtails. Jenny, of the restless feet and lithe body.

After the service, Kate and Richard were
led to a police car for the drive home. Once more the street was blocked off
and Kate was grateful for the protection. The clamor of the press and the
gawkers had been terrifying.

Leidecker’s patrol car was parked in
front of the house. By the time they pulled into the driveway Carl was already
opening the door beside Kate. He held out his hand, but she didn’t move.

“Is there any news?” she asked.

Leidecker squatted on his heels so that
his face was level with hers. His expression was full of compassion and she
sensed his apology for this intrusion. “Nothing conclusive, Kate. It’s going to
take time.”

She looked at him, waiting for him to
continue.

In answer to her unspoken question, Carl
said, “There are a few things I need to clear up.”

Richard leaned across Kate. “It’s been a
very long day. Couldn’t this wait until tomorrow?”

“No.” Carl’s glance moved from Kate to
Richard. His expression hardened. “Although it’s not strictly necessary, in my
opinion, Richard, you should consider having a lawyer present.”

Four

I
t took a moment for the import
of Carl’s
words to register with Kate. “What . . . what’s going on?” Her head
swiveled between the two men in her confusion. “Richard?”

After a moment of absolute stillness, he
blinked, eyes now shuttered as he turned his head away from her, one hand gripping
the door handle of the car with whitened fingers. The silence was
claustrophobic. In rising panic, she clutched Richard’s arm. His rigid body
relaxed at her touch.

“Let’s go into the house, Kate,” he
said, opening his door.

He got out, leaving her alone and
disoriented. At her side, Carl once more extended his hand. Frightened by the
police chief’s attitude, she waved him away and struggled out of the car.

Her legs threatened to buckle under her.
She locked her knees until Richard was beside her and then took his arm,
leaning against him for support. Her emotions were so close to the surface that
she barely controlled the urge to run away.
 

Richard unlocked the front door and she
entered, all too conscious of Leidecker’s footsteps behind her. She led the way
to the family room at the back of the house.

She opened the curtains across the patio
doors and stared outside at the late afternoon sunshine that highlighted the
newly budding trees in the backyard. At the cemetery, she had dreaded returning
to the emptiness of the house. The fear and confusion at Leidecker’s intrusion
superseded her despair. At least for the moment. Fighting for control, she
turned to face the others.

“Now, Carl,” she said, moving to stand
beside Richard. “What exactly is going on here?”

“Sorry, Kate,” Leidecker said. “Several
questions have come up that need to be answered.”

“Again?” Kate asked. “Haven’t you asked
the same questions over and over enough times?”

She didn’t know why she was reacting so
strongly to Leidecker’s presence, but she had a real sense of danger.
 

“Go away,” she said. “Come back tomorrow
and we’ll talk.” Richard moved restlessly at her side and she turned to him,
tears of frustration filling her eyes. “Make them go away, Richard.”

“It’s all right, Kate,” he said. “Let’s
just get it over with.”

Before she could speak, Richard led her
over to the couch. His expression was forbidding. She suspected that he dreaded
talking about Jenny’s death as much as she did but maybe he was right. Putting
it off until later wouldn’t make it any easier. She glared at Leidecker, hating
him for causing such pain. Lips pressed together to keep them from trembling,
she sat down without further comment. Richard stood beside the arm of the
couch.

Without waiting for an invitation, Carl
sat down in an overstuffed chair facing the couch. He appeared relaxed, his
hands folded loosely on top of a leather notebook on his lap.
 

 
“Before we begin,” he said, “is there anyone
you would like to have present?”

“You mean a lawyer,” Richard snapped.
Kate moved at his side, and he pressed her shoulder to silence her. “I
appreciate the courtesy, but I can’t think of any reason we would need one. As
you may recall it is our daughter who has been killed. I assume that we are not
suspects.”

“At this stage, everyone is a suspect.”

The words were quietly spoken but
nonetheless dramatic. In the charged silence, the phone rang and Kate jumped as
if she had been scalded. No one moved. The second ring broke the spell, and
Richard hurried into the kitchen cutting off the shrill sound in the middle of
the third ring.
 

The tension that had been building
dissipated. Kate sank into the corner of the couch, drawing her feet up in
preparation for the coming ordeal.

“The answering machine will pick up, so
we won’t be disturbed,” Richard said returning to the room. He eyed Kate,
relief showing on his face at her composure. He sat on the couch beside her and
turned his attention to Carl. “Now, how can we help you?”

“I’d like each of you to repeat the events
of Tuesday, May 16th.” At Kate’s grimace, he nodded in silent agreement. “I
know you’ve told the story before but you’ve had some time to think about it
and perhaps you’ve remembered something that you didn’t think to mention
before. I realize how difficult this is but it must be done.”
 

Objecting was fruitless. It would only
prolong the agony. At first she spoke slowly, but eventually she became caught
up in the narrative and the effort to control the painful remembrance of that
day. Her words were stilted and when she faltered, she felt Richard’s hand on
her shoulder and took comfort from his presence.
 

She was aware of Carl but did not talk
directly to him. It was easier to speak to the walls of the room. For the most
part she concentrated on the sound of her own voice and the rhythm of her
breathing. At the completion of her narrative, she looked across at Carl.

“You’re doing fine, Kate. Just a few
more questions.” His voice was brisk, acknowledging her effort. “Do you recall
seeing anyone you knew as you walked toward the corner or on the side street?”

“No. No one.”

“Any cars along the street. Either
parked and/or driving past?”

Kate closed her eyes, trying to picture
the scene. “I suppose I saw cars, but nothing that struck me as either familiar
or unusual.”

“We’ve gone over the list of people you
called or who called you that evening, and the approximate times you spoke to
them. If you could both look it over and see if it’s correct or if other names
might have been forgotten.”