Don't Believe a Word (19 page)

‘Hi, Dad.’ Eden averted her gaze away from the sensuous photos.

‘You texted me that you were coming home. What happened?’

What happened? Eden thought. She thought about all that had happened in the last twelve hours. In the last week. Could she make up enough lies to cover it all? Suddenly, she felt completely sick of lies. There was nothing that she needed to cover up. She had done nothing wrong. ‘I was. I was at the airport when I had to come back.’

‘Why?’ he asked.

She hesitated. Now was the moment when she could equivocate. Say that she would tell him when she got home. He wouldn’t harass her about it. He would trust her. Enough, she thought. ‘Flynn,’ she said.

‘Flynn?’ Hugh demanded, a real note of shock in his voice.

‘Flynn’s been shot. He’s in the hospital. He’s alive, but it’s very touch and go at the moment. The police insisted that I had to stay here, since they knew I had a grudge against Flynn.’

‘What? I thought you went out there to help a writer with his book?’

‘I am. I was. The writer was Flynn. It was Flynn’s book. Before you get mad, I didn’t have much choice. He wrote a book about his life with Mom, and his agent sold it to my company, with the caveat that I had to be the editor. That’s why I was here.’

Hugh was silent at his end of the phone.

‘It did not go well. And by the way, I’ve now been fired—’

‘Eden, no—’ he cried.

‘I’m afraid so. But while I was here, I have been asking around, trying to find out more about Mom’s death. The police thought that I blamed it on Flynn.’

‘Did you?’ he asked.

‘Okay, that is a long story,’ said Eden. ‘Yes and no. I will tell you everything when I get back. But, suffice it to say, I had nothing to do with shooting the man.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me the real reason you were going back to Cleveland?’ Hugh said.

Eden hesitated, then confessed. ‘I was ashamed. I thought you would be angry at me. For even agreeing to help him with this. After all he did to us.’

Hugh was silent again.

‘Are you angry?’ she asked.

‘Not at you. No,’ he said.

‘It seemed to me that I had no choice. But, of course, there’s always a choice.’

‘Do you want me to come out there?’ Hugh said. ‘Do you need an attorney?’

‘No, I’m all right for the moment. They found the gun which shot Flynn today, so that should exonerate me completely, since I have no idea where a person would even get a gun, never mind know how to shoot it.’

‘Oh, I wish you’d never gone back there,’ Hugh said vehemently.

‘So do I,’ said Eden. She felt her eyes well up, but she forced herself not to cry. ‘I’ll be back soon.’

‘I hope so,’ he said.

‘Are you okay, Dad?’ she asked.

‘Yes, I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Just worried about you.’

‘By the way, I sent a box to our house. By UPS. I used the hotel as a return address. It’s got some of Mom’s things in it. Just keep it for me.’

‘I will,’ he said. ‘You just get out of there, and get back home.’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,’ she said, with a bravado she did not feel.

‘Where are you now?’ he asked. ‘At the hotel?’

One little lie, she thought. ‘Yes. I better go.’

‘Okay,’ he said.

Eden hung up, and sat back for a minute. She was lucky when she thought about it. She had a father she could always count on. Not everybody could say that.

She turned around and looked again at the photos of Lizzy on Flynn’s computer. They made her feel sick to her stomach. She quit the file and turned off the program. Tara would be heartsick if she knew. Eden couldn’t stand to look at the file anymore.

She picked up her phone and the keys, and turned off the light in the office.

She walked through the garage, and then up into the kitchen where a single light was burning over the sink. She ran a glass of water, and turned around to lean against the cabinets.

She choked, and spat the water out. Lizzy Jacquez was standing in the doorway facing her, holding a carving knife.

‘O
h my God,’ Eden c
ried out, clutching her chest.

Lizzy stared at her, still wielding the knife.

For a moment they stared at one another, each one shocked by the encounter.

‘I heard noises from the office,’ said Lizzy. ‘I thought someone had broken in the house. What are you doing here?’

‘I’m staying here,’ said Eden coldly. ‘Aaliya let me in earlier. I guess I don’t need to ask you what you’re doing here.’

Lizzy looked at her warily. ‘What do you mean by that?’

‘I mean, I know about you and Flynn,’ Eden said bitterly. She found herself unexpectedly furious at the girl. It was the photos. Somehow, she had had no problem thinking that Lizzy and Flynn might have bonded over their grief about Tara and Jeremy. But those photos told another story.

Lizzy set the knife down carefully on the counter, and lowered her eyes. ‘How did you find out?’

‘There are photos on his computer. Very indiscreet.’

‘What were you doing on his computer?’ Lizzy asked.

‘Oh no, no,’ said Eden. ‘You don’t get to act indignant with me. I want to know something. Was this going on while my mother was alive?’

Lizzy sank down into one of the kitchen chairs as if she were deflating, like a punctured tire. ‘I’m sorry, Eden. I’m so sorry. The answer is that it has only been … going on, as you say, for a couple of days.’

‘Really?’ said Eden. ‘Do I look like I was born yesterday?’

‘The actual … deed, I meant,’ she said apologetically.

‘I’m guessing there was a fair amount of … foreplay.’

Lizzy shook her head. ‘I can’t …’

‘What? Deny it?’ Eden cried. ‘You know, I was beginning to feel sorry for Flynn, but he has a way of turning sympathy into hate. I guess you haven’t noticed that yet. Did my mother know about this?’

Lizzy shook her head. ‘There was nothing to know. Not when she was alive. Neither one of us even acknowledged the attraction. I swear it.’

‘Oh come on. You expect me to buy that?’

‘I swear,’ said Lizzy. ‘I mean, I felt something drawing me to him. He felt the same way. But we never admitted it, even to ourselves, until after Tara …’

‘Maybe she could see it,’ said Eden. ‘Maybe that was one reason she was so depressed.’

‘There was nothing to see,’ said Lizzy. ‘I avoided him. He avoided me.’

‘You think my mother was a fool?’ Eden asked.

‘No! I loved your mother. I respected her. I was … perfect. She never knew how I felt. I would never have willingly hurt her. I don’t expect you to understand,’ said Lizzy. ‘I don’t even understand it. I love my husband. I’ve broken his heart with this. But this thing with Flynn … It’s unlike anything either one of us … have ever known.’

‘Oh wait,’ said Eden dramatically. ‘Where have I heard that before? Oh, that’s right, when Flynn convinced my mother that she needed to leave my father and me.’

Lizzy did not protest.

‘What’s going to happen when DeShaun finds out?’

‘He already knows,’ said Lizzy. ‘I couldn’t do this behind his back. It would have been … disrespectful. I told him two days ago.’

Eden shook her head in disgust. ‘You tanked a perfectly good marriage for that loser? DeShaun didn’t deserve this.’

‘I know that,’ said Lizzy in a small voice.

‘So now what?’ Eden demanded.

‘I don’t know. I came here because I can’t go home. DeShaun wouldn’t have me there. And I didn’t want to go to my parents because I don’t want them to find out yet. So I thought I’d just come here and stay. Now I just pray that Flynn survives this attack. I don’t know how I could go on otherwise.’

‘Well, I hate to state the obvious,’ said Eden, ‘but did you ever think that maybe your husband was really, really angry at Flynn?’

Lizzy shook her head. ‘Believe me, that was the first thing I thought of. But I checked. Luckily, he was in surgery when it happened. He didn’t even know about it until Flynn arrived at the hospital. When I told him that I was afraid he might have shot Flynn, he said he wished he had.’

Eden sighed. ‘He’d have to get in line.’

‘You sound like you’re blaming him for being shot,’ Lizzy cried. ‘That’s so completely unfair!’ Spots of color danced, like faint flames, in her pale cheeks.

‘Do you think DeShaun is the only wronged husband in Flynn’s life? He did the same thing to my father. And who knows how many others?’

‘He’s not like that,’ said Lizzy. ‘Our love is something so powerful … it’s a once in a lifetime thing. We both feel it.’

‘I pity you,’ said Eden. ‘You believe that. You’ll see.’

The two women stared at one another, and then Lizzy looked away, her shoulders slumped. She knows I’m right, Eden thought. But she didn’t say a word.

‘I don’t suppose …’ said Lizzy. ‘I guess you wouldn’t want me staying here while you’re here.’

‘You’ve got that right,’ said Eden.

‘All right. I’ll leave. Although I don’t know where to go,’ Lizzy lamented.

‘Surely you have a friend,’ Eden said.

‘I’ll just go back to the hospital,’ said Lizzy. ‘I’d rather be near Flynn anyway.’

‘You do that,’ said Eden. ‘Sleep in a chair.’ She followed Lizzy through the maze of cardboard boxes to the front door of the house.

Lizzy turned, as she opened the front door. ‘It’s more complicated than you think, Eden. I adored your mother. And your stepbrother. So did Flynn. Believe me, neither one of us would ever—’

‘Pardon me, but I could never believe you,’ said Eden. ‘Now please go.’

She watched the girl disappear into the evening gloom, then locked the door behind her. No, you can’t stay here, Eden thought, reliving her conversation with Lizzy in her mind. How could you even think anything else? she wondered. She went back into the dining area and sat down at the table in the dismantled room. She was hungry, but didn’t want to eat. Thirsty, but she thought she might gag on anything she tried to swallow. She knew she should get up and try to find herself something in these cabinets, but instead, she sat, rooted in place.

Suddenly, her phone rang, startling her again, and she hurried to answer it.

‘Ms Radley?’

‘Yes,’ said Eden.

‘This is Detective Burt. Where are you?’ he asked.

‘I’m at Flynn’s house. I’m staying here tonight.’

‘Well, I have something I want to discuss with you. I wonder if you could come down to the station? I’d come out there, but a lot of things are happening, all at once,’ he said apologetically.

Eden thought about it for a moment. She did not know if it had any bearing on Flynn’s attempted murder, but she wanted Detective Burt to know what she had found out about Flynn and Lizzy. And she did not want to spend any more time than necessary in this gloomy house. She could stop somewhere and buy herself a sandwich while she was out. ‘Okay, sure. I’ll be right down.’

‘I’ll be waiting,’ he said.

The police station was abuzz, as if it were the middle of the day. Eden announced herself to the desk sergeant, and then took a chair to wait. She did not have to wait long. Detective Burt came out the doors leading to the offices, and greeted her.

‘Thanks for coming in, Ms Radley,’ he said, offering her a chair in another room, not his office. This room was unfurnished, except for a square table and a few chairs. A laptop computer sat on the table, along with a half-empty bottle of water. The windows had bars.

‘Eden,’ she said.

‘Please, sit, Eden,’ he said.

Eden sat down, and Burt sat down across the table from her. The detective was in his shirtsleeves, though he still wore his tie. His face looked haggard, and his eyes, weary. But he seemed to still have plenty of energy for his investigation.

Eden looked across the desk at him. ‘So why did you want to see me?’

‘Ladies first, Ms Radley. Eden. Tell me what’s on your mind.’

Eden took a deep breath. ‘Well, since you insisted that I remain in Cleveland, I decided to stay at Mr Darby’s house in his absence. I figured that while I was there, and had the opportunity, I’d take a look at his computer.’

Detective Burt raised his eyebrows. ‘Really? Do you even have permission to be there?’

‘His assistant let me in,’ said Eden.

‘The Iranian girl?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know that she’s Iranian, but yes, Aaliya. In fact, it was her idea that I stay there.’

‘I don’t want you doing anything illegal,’ he warned.

Eden ignored his caution. ‘On Flynn’s computer I found photos dated a couple of days ago. They don’t leave much to the imagination. It seems that Flynn Darby is having an affair with a researcher from the Cleveland Clinic who often worked in my mother’s home while she was alive.’

‘What’s her name?’

‘Jacquez, Lizzy Jacquez. Her husband is an intern at the Cleveland Clinic, named DeShaun. It occurred to me that he may have found out about them, and decided to go after Flynn. Mrs Jacquez insists that her husband was in the hospital doing surgery when Flynn was shot. I hope that’s true, but …’

Burt frowned, and tapped his pen against his lower lip. ‘We can easily check on that. And you think this affair was going on while your mother was alive?’ he asked.

‘Lizzy gave me some song and dance about them not acting on it while my mother was alive. She seemed sincere. But so did Flynn when he insisted he had nothing to do with my mother’s death. Honestly, I don’t know what to think anymore. I just know that I’m not satisfied with the answers I’ve received.’

Detective Burt sighed. ‘And I admit I feel a bit badly about that. More and more I’m beginning to wonder if I was hasty in dismissing your concerns about your mother’s death. That case is still closed. Technically,’ he said. ‘Although, in fact, the shooting of Flynn Darby now casts everything into a different light. My experience tells me that this murder attempt on Flynn Darby is related to the deaths of Tara and Jeremy Darby. It would just be too coincidental that the crimes are unrelated.’

Eden nodded. ‘That makes sense, doesn’t it?’

Detective Burt shrugged. ‘Luckily, as long as the victim is still alive, we have an eyewitness. Flynn Darby himself. We will question him as soon as he regains consciousness in hopes that he can identify his assailant. In the meantime, we were expecting the gun to tell us much of what we need to know.’

‘And did it?’

He reached over to the laptop and tapped on it. Then he turned it to face Eden. ‘I’ll show you something. Take a look at this,’ he said.

Eden frowned as the screen was suddenly filled with a blank-walled, nondescript room much like the one she was sitting in. There was the sound of coughing, and much rustling and throat clearing.

A man dressed in a dark windbreaker and gray pants, his head cut off by the frame, was led to a chair and told to sit down. He did so, and his wrinkled, bespectacled face came into view. His crewcut white hair made the top of his head look as if it was melting into the dingy white wall behind him.

‘That’s Michael Darby,’ she exclaimed.

‘Yes, it is,’ said Burt.

‘This is Detective Armand Fabian of the Robbin’s Ferry, New York police department. We are conducting an interview with Mr Michael Darby as a courtesy to the Cleveland, Ohio Central Police. All right now, Mike … Mr Darby …’ said the disembodied voice outside the screen. ‘As I said, we have asked you to come here as a courtesy to the Cleveland Police. They have recovered a gun, suspected to be the weapon in the shooting this morning of your grandson, Flynn Darby.’

Eden studied the aged face. It showed absolutely no emotion at the mention of Flynn’s name as a shooting victim. The old man sniffed, and blinked behind his glasses. Otherwise he was impassive.

‘Had you heard that Flynn was the victim in a shooting?’

‘They called the house after it happened. So yeah, we heard.’

‘How’s he doing?’ asked Detective Fabian, a note of sympathy in his voice.

Michael Darby looked back at him belligerently. ‘Still living,’ he said. ‘Otherwise, I don’t know anything.’

‘Okay now, Mr Darby. A few hours after the shooting, the gun which was used to shoot your grandson was recovered in a storm drain.’

The old man gazed at the detective coolly.

‘We were surprised to discover that the weapon was registered to you, sir. Can you explain how that gun, which was your service revolver when you were on the Robbin’s Ferry police force, turned up in Cleveland, Ohio, this morning?’

Michael Darby stared at the detective who was questioning him. His complexion, pale to begin with, turned ashen. He blinked rapidly, but his gaze was not fixed on Detective Fabian. He seemed to be looking into the past, or into his memories, trying desperately to make something in his memories compute.

‘Mr Darby? Did you hear what I asked? How did your gun end up in Cleveland?’

‘Well, I certainly didn’t bring it there,’ said Michael gruffly.

To Eden, it sounded like an excuse. It sounded as if he was playing for time. But why? As if in answer to her question, the detective spoke again.

‘No. We know that you were not in Cleveland this morning, sir. The home health aide who comes in to care for your wife twice a week reported to us that she saw you and your wife in your home at the time of the shooting.’

‘Like I said. I didn’t shoot him,’ said the old man bluntly.

‘No, sir. We’re not accusing you of that. What we want to know is how that weapon came to be in Cleveland.’

‘I don’t know,’ Michael Darby cried. ‘Why are you asking me? How would I know?’

‘It’s your weapon, sir. Of that, there is no doubt. Who better to know its whereabouts?’

‘Jesus,’ he murmured, as if stunned, and trying to absorb this piece of news. Then he looked at the detective defiantly. ‘He musta took it with him.’

‘Who took it, sir?’ asked the voice of Detective Fabian patiently.

‘Flynn. My grandson. I haven’t seen that thing in over twenty years. Maybe twenty-five.’

‘We have paperwork here signed by you saying that you turned it in when you retired. But the weapon was never actually recovered.’

‘I might have meant to but I forgot,’ he said in a wheedling tone.

‘So you’re saying that you failed to turn in your weapon when you retired, and you have not seen it since.’