Pool Of Lies Part 30

Chapter 54.

As it turned out, the only ones exhibiting tension during the introduction of Justin to Stephen and Callie were Rae and Veronica. They'd stood like nervous mother hens while the young people did what, well, young people do. They shook hands--no soggy kisses and hugs. After all, two of them were guys.

Callie wore navy shorts and a pretty flowered blouse in pale blue that matched her sandals. Rae noted Callie's lightly tanned legs, thinking the tan probably came from a spray can.

It was a time to get acquainted, both during and after the barbeque on Rae's wide, wrap-around porch. Justin didn't seem to have any trouble bridging the generation gap between himself and his new-found brother and future sister-in-law. Rae and Veronica grinned at each other as they heard the three swapping grade-school horror stories.

"They're not talking down to him," Veronica said. "That's a good thing. It's something I've never done, even when he was a toddler." She laughed. "He says I treat him like a person, not a kid."

"That's what parents end up doing with an only child. I'm one. You tend to relate better with adults, don't you think?" Rae asked, making an a.s.sumption.

"I wouldn't know," Veronica said. "I'm one of four. None of us are close."

When the sun set over Longs Peak in a burst of vermilion, and the echo of firecrackers reverberated from the neighbors' down the road, Stephen offered to drive them all to the fairgrounds for the public fireworks display.

Rae and Veronica opted to stay behind and watch the show from the porch. "Fat chance you'll find a place to park," Rae said. "You should have thought of this earlier."

"Spontaneity, Rae," said Callie, answering for Stephen. "We'll take our chances."

When the three young people had driven away, Rae looked at Veronica. "I'm getting used to her," she said.

"I'm not going to touch that one." Veronica smiled, looking more relaxed than Rae had ever seen her. Maybe it was the three gla.s.ses of merlot.

Rae began to fidget with her wine gla.s.s, twisting its stem, feeling like she had a goat head in her shoe again and not being able to take it off to empty out the irritant. "I've been thinking," she began.

"Don't do too much of that. It'll give you a headache," Veronica said with a laugh in her voice.

Veronica cracking jokes? What have we come to? Rae's giggle sent wine down the wrong path and out her nose. When she'd cleared her throat, she picked up the sobering thread she'd begun, "Deidre's dead. And JJ Camacho is still as free as a bird. Kevin's dead. And Morgan and Sam are getting married like their day has come. It's like the books are out of balance, as my mom used to say."

Veronica shrugged. "Sometimes that's just the way it is."

"But I want things to tally up."

"You want neat answers?"

"Yep. Like the rows of corn across the road. Neat, symmetrical."

"You won't always get that in police work, Rae."

"At least, can I expect some housecleaning? Did they decide anything about Marsh and Wehr?"

"Commander Marsh has taken an early retirement, effective July first. Sergeant Wehr was put on sixty days unpaid leave."

"I guess that's better than nothing."

She was about to confide about Danny and his regression to fiscal irresponsibility when Veronica pointed toward the fairgrounds. "Look, Rae, the fireworks have started."

A star-burst of red, white and blue split open the night sky.

"Happy Fourth of July, Veronica."

The women clinked their gla.s.ses, then raised them in a toast to the falling bits of brilliance in the southern sky.

Chapter 55.

Lakewood, Colorado September The Colorado Front Range usually gets its first dusting of snow around Halloween. Frosty skies and pumpkins accompany little ones bundled up for trick-or-treat.

Once in a while in September, winter plays a dirty trick on trees still decked out in summer finery, and sends in a blast of things to come.

Soccer Mom saw the big, slate-gray clouds sitting low over the mountains like cats getting ready to pounce. But the kids had to go to practice, and the storm would probably not hit till they were home, tucked in their beds...she hoped.

By the time they'd finished practice and were hopping into her SUV, Soccer Mom knew she'd misjudged the storm's progression. The sodden cloud, now nearly black, opened like a mouth and began disgorging increasingly huge globs of snow. The four boys--two of them hers and two she'd vowed to deliver safely to their doorstep--began to s.h.i.+ver. She started the engine and turned on the defroster, noting the exterior temperature reading. In the past hour, it had dropped nearly forty degrees.

Complete dark came too quickly, the moon-sliver having been devoured early on by the storm. Soccer Mom had to cross the Graystone Lake Bridge to reach the boys' home in the Peardale section. She drove cautiously, thankful that her new all-weather tires were still getting traction in the increasing acc.u.mulation of icy snow.

Through the narrowing vision path blasted by her wipers and defroster, she could barely make out the smaller vehicle as it cut in front of her and barreled onto the bridge. All four boys screamed as she pulled over, shaken by the irresponsibility of the other driver.

Mom and boys all watched with suspended breathing as the small car slid precariously close to the right guardrail of the bridge. Then, as the driver appeared to over-correct, the vehicle plunged through the guardrail on the opposite side, into the icy waters. As the boys began to cry, Soccer Mom pressed in nine-one-one on her cell phone.

Chapter 56.

At six a.m. the following morning, Rae was out in the wake of the storm, a.s.sessing the remnants of her garden. As she knocked snow off trees and shrubs with a broom, a pale sun s.h.i.+vered in the eastern sky.

Rae surveyed the ruin around her. Rose bushes in the midst of their final blooming for the season were stripped. Whole sections of Russian olive trees were strewn across the lawn. One big, broken cottonwood branch lay across the back gate. She could almost hear the trees groaning. The snow and ice were supposed to wait until all the leaves were gone and the sap stored safely underground.

The cell phone in the pocket of her thermal coveralls vibrated. Who'd be calling at six a.m.? Her heart lurched as she grabbed the phone and looked at the caller ID.

"Veronica?" Relief. Not one of the kids. "Hey, what's up?"

"Me. I've been up all night. There was an accident on the Graystone Lake Bridge last night. Teenager going too fast for road conditions."

"Not--"

"Oh, no one you know. And he survived. Broken bones and frostbite. His car was totaled, though."

"You called because..."

"I thought you'd want to know if we got anything on JJ Camacho."

Rae dropped the broom she was holding in her other hand. "You've got a real lead this time?"

"Better than that. We've got him. We're ninety percent sure."

"He's in custody?"

"He's in the morgue. When the rescue team went down for the kid, they found a big, black Lincoln Town Car with a body in it. The car has been confirmed as Deidre's."

"Why aren't you sure it's him?" Rae plopped down in the slush on the back steps, not even feeling the wet that seeped through her coveralls.

"The medical examiner thinks he may have been under water for at least six months."

"Six months? But he was texting Kevin."

"Somebody was texting Kevin. Not Camacho. He had on one of those watches that shows time and date. Apparently it got smashed in the crash. He died the same night as Deidre."

"OhmiG.o.d."

"Yeah, somebody strapped him snugly into the driver's seat, but forgot to adjust the seat. JJ was a shorty. His feet couldn't have touched the pedals even if he'd been alive."

"Do you have any idea...who?"

"Not yet. I'm really beat. Just wanted you to be among the first to know. Talk to you later."

Sometimes justice comes when you least expect it. Rae had a new vision of Morgan in animal form. Only this time she wasn't a wild goose. She was a raging mother bear, ripping the h.e.l.l out of the man who'd killed her cub.

Tori called Rae at noon. "We saw the storm damage on TV. Are you okay, Mom?"

"Fine. Me and the critters. A few trees didn't make it. And my rose garden was sliced and diced."

"We were worried. It looked pretty bad."

"I haven't turned on the TV. Guess I was one of the lucky ones."

"Hope it's not a sample of what winter's going to be like, 'cause we've got our tickets for Christmas. They've got some really good deals going that might not be available if you wait till spring."

"I hear you."

When they'd finished talking, Rae turned on her computer, logged onto the internet, typed in O R B I T Z and hit enter. The simple act gave her an immense sense of relief.

After she'd eaten dinner, fed the animals and returned Stephen's call that he'd left while she was in the barn, Rae thought of Danny and wondered if Veronica had called him. Her heart had softened toward him. Though a dunce when it came to judgment in financial matters, Danny had, at least on paper if not by monetary contribution, owned half the real estate in Deidre's estate by virtue of being an equal partner in the LLC. Beth was Deidre's only other heir, and she didn't want financially. So what if Danny spent money like a drunken sailor? Didn't he deserve a little peace of mind about his wife's killer? Of course, she wouldn't mention her theory about Morgan evening the score for all of them.

So many rings made her think that the call would surely go to voicemail. But finally Danny answered. "Rae?"

"Has Veronica phoned you by any chance?"

A slight pause. "Nooo. We're not exactly buddies. What's up?" And then he giggled. Rae hoped he wasn't high, that fiscal irresponsibility wasn't just a symptom of another regression.

"They found JJ."

"Oh, so that's what all the ruckus was about."

How would he... OhmiG.o.d! She tried to keep her tone even and her words a misconstruction of what she'd heard. "Yeah, all over the news. But I slept through most of it, too. Didn't know till Veronica called me this morning."

"How'd they catch him?" Apparently she wasn't the only one who could switch gears after a nasty slipup. And her minute silence had been just that.

"Uh, not sure. You'll have to ask Veronica." Did she pause a bit too long again? Did he catch the panic in her voice? "Well, I'm bushed, Danny. Just thought you'd want to know. Talk to you."

"You bet."

She heard the click as he hung up, and then felt her heart pounding in her ears. Quickly, she entered Veronica's number. Voicemail. What kind of a message to leave? Was she losing her mind? But suddenly her Morgan theory burst like an abscess. She'd forgotten about the text messages sent to Kevin from JJ's cell phone. That shot the h.e.l.l out of any crime of pa.s.sion done in retribution for the murder of a child.

There must have been cops and emergency vehicles all over the place last night. Danny would have had a great view from his new front window. Why on G.o.d's earth would Danny have a.s.sociated her news about JJ to a neighborhood ruckus unless he knew JJ was in the lake? Good G.o.d. He may know I know. She called Veronica's cell. Same. Voicemail.

He can't know I know. Had the isolation of her lifestyle really done a number on her head? Grandma! But there was no answering thought, no wise adage, no advice come from sifting the past for the known. What was left was the unknown. I must have heard him wrong. In her mind, she replayed Danny's words, and her gut told her that there was no other interpretation. For him to a.s.sociate a ruckus, as he put it, at any location with the apprehension of Camacho was illogical. Considering the proximity of his house to Graystone Lake, what else could she think? What would she have normally done? Jumped all over him with questions about the ruckus he heard...or saw as he came home from wherever. The fact that she instead jumped into a bunch of nonsense about TV coverage of the incident--not quick thinking. Idiocy! Danny knew her--too well. But did he? Really?

She tried Veronica--both numbers--again, this time leaving a message: Call me. Please. It's urgent. But she could not say more, as some irrational part of her still didn't want it to be true.

In the kitchen, as she warmed up coffee, she remembered the incident of the staple holes on the cancelled check stub and Veronica's reaction to Rae's idea of a significant piece of evidence. The conversation with Danny in which she gave so much significance to her own small hesitation would seem absurd to Veronica. This was Danny, whom she had known for years--a screw up, maybe, but could she really imagine Danny harming her or anyone for that matter?

What if he had come upon JJ in the act of murdering Deidre? What if Danny had dispatched his wife's murderer? Rae shuddered. How smooth a liar would Danny have to be to pull off a convincing front? She remembered his apparent shock in Veronica's office over Deidre's s.e.xual a.s.sault and his insistence that he didn't know JJ. And how would he know to send fake text messages to Kevin if he wasn't in on the plan? Or could the text messages have been sent by Reggie Navarro? To Rae's knowledge, JJ's cell phone had never been found. A tenuous calm settled upon her as she formed the idea of talking to Danny about his involvement--counseling him, even, if he had in fact killed his wife's murderer. As the phone rang, she realized that her decision in this regard needed to be immediate.

An hour later, Rae sat in her darkened living room. Danny should have been here by now. She'd opened a front-facing window a crack in spite of the cold. Few vehicles pa.s.sed on the road below. She heard only the occasional yip of coyotes in the distance--then a ki-yi-yi as the pack closed in on a hapless critter.

Somewhere in the house, a board creaked as they often did in old houses. She flinched and looked behind her. Nothing. She got up and slowly walked into the hallway, reminding herself that there was no approach to her house except by the road below that she'd been watching diligently.

Outside, she knew the roads were slick from yesterday's storm. The sun had been out long enough to melt the snow, but now the falling temperature had turned it to black ice. He could not have hurried in that old truck of his. With all the spending, she wondered why he hadn't bought a new, snazzy car. Maybe a sports car. Or better for this climate, a four-wheel drive.

In the dining room, she peered through the window as an aircraft's blinking light pa.s.sed before the moon's skinny crescent. A creak behind her just before he said, "I'm over here, Rae."

Even though expected, her heartbeat increased so quickly that she felt faint. A million rabbits hopping in her chest. "Danny." She flipped on the light. No need for dark now.