Last Whisper (32 page)

“You are
extremely
useful. First spending the night with me, then bringing me clothes at the hospital. What would I do without you?”

“Sleep alone and be naked.”

“You take gratitude so gracefully, Stacy.”

Stacy grinned. “It just makes me feel silly. Ready to go home?”

“No. I’m going up to see my grandmother first. You can go, though. You don’t have to wait for Vincent and me.”

“I’d prefer to wait,” Stacy said, then with a wink, “I want to make sure you two goofy kids get home safe and sound. I also want to make sure I get my dress back.”

“You are just a riot, Stacy,” Brooke said, smiling for the first time since they’d left the planetarium.

Vincent drove Brooke home, then stayed at Brooke’s only long enough to drink a glass of iced tea. He didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone, but she seemed oddly calm as well as tired. Perhaps the pain medication she’d been given was affecting her, he thought. Anyway, she didn’t argue with him when he said he should be going, although it was fairly early in the evening. He had a feeling she just wanted to go to bed, if only to rest. Thinking she might not be as alert as she should be under the circumstances, he checked all the window locks, then listened from the hall for the door lock and dead bolt. He hoped Stacy would offer to spend the night again; then he drove home.

When he walked in the house, all the lights were off. Sam
never went to bed this early, and when he did go to bed he always left on a lamp in the living room, just as Vincent’s mother had insisted on doing when she was alive. Frightened, Vincent called out, “Dad!” a couple of times, stumbled over to a lamp, turned it on, and readied himself for a search of the house.

The lamp near the door nearly blinded him, the bulb in it much too bright, and after blinking a couple of times, Vincent saw Sam sitting in his favorite chair, an album on his lap, staring straight ahead. Vincent looked at the man’s unblinking blue eyes. “Dad?” he said softly, almost fearfully. Sam was rock still, still staring. “Dad?”

Suddenly Sam blinked, looked at Vincent, and said, “Well, at last, Son. I told you not to keep the car out past dark. Your mother’s been worried sick.”

Vincent realized he’d been holding his breath. He let it out slowly and said, “I’m sorry about the car, Dad. I got held up—”

“Now, those excuses don’t work anymore,” Sam said firmly. “You’re supposed to be in by eleven.”

“But Dad, it’s not eleven yet.” Vincent realized he’d fallen into the same tone he’d used when he was sixteen. He pulled himself together and said in an adult voice, “Something
did
happen, though, or I would have been home earlier.”

Abruptly, Sam looked alarmed. “A car wreck?”

“No, not a car accident.”

“Is anyone hurt?”

“No. Everyone is fine. Well, almost fine.”

Sam’s white eyebrows drew together. “Almost fine. What does that mean?”

“It was Brooke.” His father’s frown deepened. “She’s all right. I just dropped her at her apartment.”

“Apartment? Doesn’t she live here?”

Alarm filled Vincent. Had his father forgotten most of what he knew about Brooke? “No, Dad, Brooke is twenty-six now and she has her own place.”

Vincent watched his father closely. He saw something move behind the older man’s eyes, and he suddenly looked
more alert. “Sure she has her own place. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Sometimes your memory just . . . takes a break.”

Sam started laughing. “Takes a break. That’s a good one! But you always were good with words, Vincent. Straight As in English. Not so good in math, though.”

“No, I wasn’t. I’m still not, which is why I’m a writer, not a nuclear physicist.”

“But you’re a good writer. Everyone says so. Your mom was proud as punch of you.”

“Well, that’s what publishers always want to hear—that your mom likes your writing. They can’t snatch up a book fast enough when they hear that one.”

Sam frowned again. “So you’re fine. But Brooke isn’t.”

“No, Dad, she isn’t. She needs to get out of Charleston, but she won’t because of her grandmother. We stopped by the hospital this evening. After seeing her grandmother, Brooke looked awful. She finally admitted the doctor told her Greta is failing and probably won’t live more than a few days. I told Brooke her grandmother would want her to get out of danger. After all, she’s tried to keep Brooke safe all her life. But Brooke is stubborn. I have to say, her courage is one of the things I admire about her, but at the same time, it frustrates the hell out of me.”

Sam smiled. “She was a plucky little girl. That’s one of the things Laura and I loved about her.” He slanted a look at Vincent. “One of the things I think you love about her, too.”

Vincent flushed. “Love? Dad, I just met Brooke a few days ago. I like her. I respect her. I have fun with her. But love? That’s ludicrous.”

“Yeah, well, whatever you say, Son.” Sam grinned in a way that made Vincent want to protest more about how he certainly did not
love
Brooke Yeager, but he knew his father. Once he got an idea in his head, there was no shaking it loose, no matter how much you argued. He’d just let Sam think what pleased him. But
love
!

“We
have
to get Tavell,” Sam began again, his grin fading. “The son of a bitch managed to break out of prison and
he’s after my Cinnamon Girl. After all these years, when she got into trouble, she came to me. And what have I done? Exactly nothing, because I’m just an old, useless man now.” He wiped at his eyes. “Sorry, Son.”

“Dad, you’re not old and useless,” Vincent said softly, feeling his own throat tighten.

“Yes, I am. Pretty much. I think your mother’s death finished me off. Mentally, that is. Not that I’m blaming her. She was the best woman who ever lived. I never understood why out of all the men she could have had, she chose me.”

“She loved you.”

Sam nodded. Then his eyes clouded. “She did indeed. I felt it every day. And I’ve felt her absence every single minute of the last three years.”

Vincent nodded. “I miss her, too, Dad.”

“Seems impossible that she’s gone,” Sam went on. “I was sure she’d be alive long after I was dead. I used to fret about that. Who would have taken care of her if I wasn’t here?”

“I would have,” Vincent said.

Sam patted him on the hand. “Yes, you’re a good boy. Always were, except for those few wild years you went through. I was concerned about you then.”

“Because I tried to be in a rock band and rode my friend’s motorcycle?” Vincent smiled. “You thought the next step was robbing jewelry stores? Dealing heroin?”

Sam grinned. “Silly, wasn’t I? But you never stop worrying about your kids.”

“That’s good to know. Some of us never need for you to stop worrying.”

“Not you. You’ve got the world by the tail. Brooke is another matter. Tell me what happened to her today.”

“Sure you’re not too tired to sit up and talk with me for a while?”

“I’m not a toddler. It’s barely dark. Get us each a beer and I’ll talk your leg off.”

Vincent got them the beer, turned on a couple of dimmer lights, then told his father what had happened at the planetarium. “Is Brooke all right?” Sam asked.

“Yes. I think she has a first-degree burn, but it’s small.”

“And you believe this girl Brooke spotted—the one that looked like the girl who gave her the roses at that funeral—is responsible.” Vincent nodded. “How?”

“The hallway was dark and crowded. I got separated from Brooke. The girl could have come up and sprayed something caustic on Brooke, then stuck her in the back a couple of times with a needle. The lab will let us know soon what it was.” Vincent leaned forward, rolling the can of beer between his hands. “What I’m wondering is who this girl is and why she’s working for Zach.”

“The
why
is easy,” Sam said. “Money. Who she is, well, that’s another matter. But you said she looked about eighteen.”

“At the funeral home I would have said sixteen tops. I didn’t see her at the planetarium, but Brooke said she looked about eighteen. Of course, at the funeral home she was wearing a white dress, very demure, no makeup, straight hair. Brooke said at the planetarium she had on heavy makeup, tight grungy clothes, a lot of cheap jewelry.”

“But Brooke is certain it’s the same girl.”

“She’s about ninety percent certain. The clothes and makeup could easily make the girl look a couple of years older. And she was with a guy. I wonder if Zach hired both of them? There’s a reward for Zach’s capture. If he did, though, I’d think he’d be worried about messing with a couple of money-hungry kids just so he can scare Brooke. After all, both you and Brooke have told me Zach was smart. Cagey. Using that girl doesn’t sound like the act of a smart man to me.”

“Fifteen years in prison might dull a man’s wits, Vincent. Besides, they said at the prison he’d gone a little crazy lately. Something’s not quite right with his mind. He’s not as sharp as he used to be, they said.”

“Tavell? Good God, he broke out of a maximum security prison and has stayed free during a huge manhunt, not to mention killed Robert Eads almost right under the nose of two surveillance teams.”

“Maybe not Eads,” Sam said slowly.

“What do you mean?”

“Hal was here earlier today. He said he’s not so sure Eads’s boyfriend didn’t have something to do with Eads’s murder. That young partner of his feels the same way.”

“Jay Corrigan?”

“Yeah. Hal seems to think the boy’s got a lot on the ball. Anyway, they interviewed that real estate guy—”

“Aaron Townsend.”

“Townsend, right. He acted nervous as hell. Tried to make it seem like he and Eads barely knew each other. But he made a couple of slips.”

Vincent leaned back in his chair. “Why would Aaron Townsend want to hurt Eads?”

“Hal says Townsend’s mother controls the family fortune and she doesn’t think too much of homosexuals. He thinks she doesn’t know about her son and he’s frantic to keep her from finding out because if she does—” Sam broke off and took a deep drink of beer. “Well, she’d probably cut him out of the will, to say the least. Hal said young Corrigan found out all about the mother from Brooke. How controlling she is, how nervous Townsend gets when she comes to the office, that kind of thing. She says people that work for Townsend think he’s afraid of his mother.”

“I still don’t understand why Townsend would be a suspect in the Eads murder. Eads wasn’t going to run to Mrs. Townsend with the news that he and her son were lovers.”

“He wouldn’t have let her know on purpose, but Hal says Eads sort of fell apart after Brooke found out about him and Townsend. Eads kept following her, making scenes—you know all that. He and Corrigan think maybe Townsend was afraid Eads would lose it altogether and accidentally blow the big secret sky-high, so he decided to shut up Eads.”

“With a letter opener that belonged to Brooke’s mother and hasn’t been seen for over fifteen years?”

“Yeah, well, there’s the fly in the ointment with that theory,” Sam said in disgust. “That letter opener leads you right back to thinking the killer must have been Tavell.”

“Who has held on to a letter opener for fifteen years and
just happened to have it with him one night when Robert Eads was hanging around Brooke’s apartment building?”

“Son, Tavell could have hidden that letter opener a hundred places after he stole it from Anne. And there’s no proof he meant to use it on Robert Eads.” Sam suddenly sounded like his old self, the detective everyone in the department had admired. “Tavell might have been on his way up to Brooke’s apartment himself, planning on killing her with the letter opener, when he ran into Robert lurking around. Tavell’s face has been all over the news for days. Eads would have recognized him if he saw him. What could Tavell do? Just let Eads walk away?”

“No,” Vincent said thoughtfully. He took another sip of beer. “I wonder where he’s kept that letter opener.”

Sam shrugged. “Like I said—a hundred places.”

“But not with friends. What would he have said to them fifteen years ago? ‘My wife’s first husband gave this to her and I’m jealous so I stole it and I’d like for you to hold on to it for God knows how many years’? Besides, Brooke said Tavell didn’t have any friends.”

“She was just a little girl. He could have had dozens of friends she didn’t know about.”

“Maybe
she
wouldn’t have, but the police would. Especially later, after the murder, when you investigated his background.”

“Sure. We found out a lot. There were police files on the case, but I had a whole box of personal files of my own. I kept those files here at the house all these years.” He suddenly looked exultant. “I finally found that box of files in the basement today and spent the whole evening going over them after that moron next door went home.”

“He wasn’t supposed to leave until I got back.”

“Well, he got all jittery, scared that excuse for a wife of his might call, so he took off.”

“Jerk.” Vincent leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Still, way to go, finding those files, Dad.” Sam shrugged. “How much information did you have in them?”

“Lots, and I remember most of what I read. What I
don’t”—he leaned down and tapped a box beside his chair—“is right in here.”

“I’m absolutely dazzled, Dad. So, are you going to share what you know?”

“You couldn’t shut me up if you paid me,” Sam said lightly, then turned serious. He was quiet for a moment, then began slowly. “Tavell’s father left when he was young. His mother didn’t pay much attention to him. Former teachers described him as ‘especially bright but unmotivated.’ I don’t know why that phrase sticks in my mind, but it does. Tavell dropped out of high school without a degree. He worked odd jobs. Stayed the longest at some auto body shop. Can’t remember the name. It’s probably not even in business anymore.”

“Did he get married?”

“Before Anne? No. I was sure of that even before I looked in my files.”

“But Zach didn’t marry Anne until he was forty. There must have been girlfriends.”

“Several, as I recall. One in particular. I can’t remember her name right off the bat. She had a kid, or maybe a couple of kids—have to check the files again for that information. Anyway, he stayed with her for quite a while. Then he just took off. She ended up a junkie.” Sam squinted as if he were seeing a face in the shadows. “Nadine! That was her name. Nadine . . . can’t remember her last name. Have to look in the files again.”