The Accident (45 page)

Read The Accident Online

Authors: Linwood Barclay

“Okay, so I just press this, and here it is.”

“Hey. Can you talk?”

“What’s this?” Marcus asked. “When was this?”

“This was just when she came in. She was phoning somebody who hurt their wrist.”

“… if that works for you? But I have to tell you, I’ve got—”

“Who’s she talking to here?” Marcus asked.

Kelly shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know who either of her callers were.”

“There were two callers?”

“Okay, you just missed it because you were talking so much,” she scolded him. “She gets another call, so she says goodbye to the first person. I’ll move it back so you can hear it.”

“Why are you calling this … my cell’s off …”

“See, this is the other person,” Kelly said.

“Shh!”

He said it so harshly Kelly felt it like a slap. Marcus wasn’t smiling anymore.

“… something in return … mark us … down for—”

“Turn it off,” Marcus said.

“But there’s a little bit more,” Kelly said.

“Stop it. Stop it right now.”

Kelly thought it was funny that all of a sudden he didn’t want to see any more. He’d been so interested just seconds earlier.

Kelly shifted away from him on the wicker couch. Marcus stood up. He was brooding. She thought it was weird how fast grown-ups could go from a good mood to a bad one.

“Go find something to do,” he snapped.

“Fine,” she said. “I hope my dad comes soon.”

She went to the spare room she used when she stayed here and started taking what few clothes she had brought out of the drawer. She was especially glad to be getting out of here if Marcus was going to start acting all weird.

She had her bag packed in a couple of minutes, then took out her phone to delete the video. She was just about to do it when she decided to watch it again, since Marcus had kept her from watching it to the end.

Kelly got the earbuds she brought along for when she used the phone for music and plugged them in. And then she played the video.

She played it again.

And again.

She had no idea what had made Marcus angry, but she’d discovered something interesting that she had never noticed before.

She unplugged the earbuds and decided to go looking for him, even if he was being all cranky. Kelly found him pacing back and forth in the kitchen.

“You want to know something really weird?” she said.

“What?” he said. He still sounded grumpy.

Holding up the phone, Kelly said, “You know, in the video? It sounds like Emily’s mom is saying your name.”

FIFTY-SEVEN

First, I phoned Fiona’s house. After five rings, it went to message. “Fiona, call me,” I said. Then I tried her cell, which went to eight rings before the voicemail kicked in. “Fiona, it’s Glen. I tried the house and there was no answer. Call me as soon as you get this. My cell. Call my cell.”

And then I tried Kelly’s cell phone. She’d set hers to go to message after five rings. Which was exactly what it did.

“Hi! It’s Kelly! Leave a massage!”
Her little joke.

“Kelly, it’s Daddy. Call my cell the second you get this, okay?”

I grabbed my truck keys. I swung open the front door.

“Mr. Garber! Mr. Garber!”

On the walkway leading up to the porch, a smartly dressed blonde woman brandishing a microphone, and alongside her, a cameraman. There was a news van parked across the end of the driveway.

“Mr. Garber, we’d like to talk to you!” the woman shouted. “Police are saying you brought down the man who shot and wounded two Milford police officers and we wondered if we could get—”

“Move that fucking van out of my way,” I said, moving past her and shoving the cameraman to one side.

“Hey, watch it, pal.”

“Please, Mr. Garber, if we could just—”

I got in my truck. Neither the reporter nor the cameraman was making a move toward the van, and I didn’t have time to wait. I turned on the
engine and backed partway down the drive, then cut across the lawn, narrowly missing the tree and dropping over the curb with a thud.

Just before I put the truck into drive and sped off down the street, tires squealing, I noticed Joan Mueller standing in her living room window, watching all the commotion.

As the engine roared, I told myself it all made some kind of sense. Marcus had met Ann Slocum at the purse party at our house. And I knew Ann had caught his eye. If he’d started seeing her—

What if Ann had pulled the same stunt with Marcus that she had with George? Suppose she’d started seeing him and then threatened to let it slip to Fiona that he was being unfaithful to her? Told him she’d be happy to keep quiet if he paid her off?

What was it she’d said on the video? He paid and got something in return. Her silence. Marcus was evidently trying to cut some kind of new deal with her. A way to reduce the blackmail payments, maybe?

That was why he wanted to see her.

Ann had left the house that night to meet with Marcus.

I sped in the direction of the turnpike, running yellow lights, totally ignoring stop signs. I floored it when I hit the ramp onto the westbound 95. Darien was about a half-hour trip. I was hoping to trim about ten minutes off that if the traffic allowed it. The truck wasn’t exactly built for speed, but it could still do eighty or more if I pushed it.

I wondered why no one was answering their phones.

So Ann goes out to meet Marcus. They have some kind of argument down by the harbor. Ann ends up dead.

I felt it in my bones. Marcus Kingston had murdered Ann Slocum.

But did that also mean he’d had something to do with Sheila’s death? I’d come, over time, to believe the two were related.

Was it possible Marcus had somehow staged the accident that claimed Sheila’s life? Gotten her drunk? Put her car on that ramp and waited for someone to hit it?

If he did, why? Did Sheila know he’d been having some kind of affair with Ann? Had Sheila threatened to tell her mother? And Marcus killed her to keep her quiet?

I had no fucking idea.

All I knew for sure was, my daughter was staying in the same house with Marcus. A man I now believed was capable of something very terrible.

I tried Fiona’s house again. Still no answer. Same for her cell phone and Kelly’s. When did that ever happen? That no one would be answering their phones?

There were other people I needed to call, but I didn’t know their numbers, and I was driving so fast I couldn’t safely spend time on the phone trying to get them.

I hit one of my presets randomly. And, after several rings, got Sally’s message.

“You’ve reached Sally Diehl. I can’t take your call right now but please leave a message.”

“Sally, damn it, it’s Glen and if you’re there pick up! Kelly’s in trouble and—”

A click, and then, “Glen?”

“Sally, I need help.”

“Tell me.”

“I can’t explain it all now, but I think Marcus may have killed Ann Slocum. Maybe even Sheila.”

“Jesus, Glen, what are you talking—”

“Just listen! Take down this address. Fifty-two—”

“Wait, wait, I have to get a pencil. Okay, shoot.”

I rhymed off Fiona’s address in Darien. “Kelly’s there, unless she’s out someplace with Fiona or Marcus. You have to call Detective Rona Wedmore.”

“Hang on. Rona … Wedmore.”

“She was in Milford Hospital today, but she should be out now. Call the main police line, tell them you
have
to talk to her. And if you can’t get her, talk to somebody, tell them to get in touch with the police in Darien and get someone to that address.”

I glanced down at the speedometer. I was almost at ninety. The truck was shaking and rattling and felt as though it was starting to float.

“Have you got it?” I asked.

“Yeah, but Glen, this sounds—”

“Do it!”

I ended the call, just in time to avoid rear-ending a tractor-trailer. I swerved around it, felt the back end of the pickup fishtail slightly, and kept my foot pressed to the floor.

FIFTY-EIGHT

“Let’s have a look at that,” Marcus said, taking the phone from Kelly.

He played the video from beginning to end.

“Did you hear it?” Kelly asked. “She says, like, ‘Marcus I’d down with it’ or whatever. Did you catch that?”

“Yes,” he said. “I think I did.”

The house phone rang. When Marcus made no move to answer it, Kelly said, “Do you want me to get that?”

“No, just let it ring. They’ll leave a message if it’s important.”

Seconds later, Fiona’s cell on the front hall table began to make a racket.

“What about that?” Kelly asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Marcus said, still holding on to Kelly’s phone. When it went off in his hand, Kelly became alarmed.

“That’s mine!” she said. “I have to answer it.”

Marcus raised the phone up next to his head. “Not right now you don’t. We’re talking.”

“Can I see who it is?”

Marcus shook his head. “You can check it later.”

“That’s not fair,” Kelly protested. “That’s
my
phone.”

Once it had stopped ringing, Marcus slid the phone into the front pocket of his pants. Kelly watched in amazement that he would do such a thing.

“Kelly,” Marcus said, “is that the very first time you’ve noticed that on the video?”

“Huh?” She still couldn’t get over the fact that her grandmother’s husband had stolen her phone from her. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Has anyone else ever noticed that?”

“I don’t think so. The only other person who’s ever even seen it is my dad. I emailed it to him.”

“So,” Marcus said. “Just the two of you.”

“Why were you talking to Emily’s mom that night?”

“Stop talking, please.”

“Give me my phone back.”

“In a minute, child. I need to think.”

“What do you have to think about?” she asked. “Please can you give it to me? I didn’t do anything wrong around here. I put away my things and I always do what you and Grandma tell me to do.”

“You know how we talked about taking a walk earlier? That might be fun to do now.”

Kelly didn’t like the look on Marcus’s face. He wasn’t even managing one of his fake smiles now. She wanted to go home. She wanted to go home right now. “Give me my phone so I can call my dad.”

“I’ll give you your phone when I’m ready to give you your phone,” he told her.

Abruptly, Kelly turned and walked out of the room, heading for the closest home phone. She picked up the receiver and started entering the numbers of her father’s cell.

Marcus snatched the receiver from her hand and slammed it down hard.

“No calls, you little bitch,” he said.

Kelly’s lip quivered. Fiona’s husband had never spoken to her this way before. Marcus grabbed her by the wrist and squeezed. “Shut up, just shut up.”

“You’re hurting me,” Kelly said. “Let go!
Let go!

“Sit down here,” he said, forcing Kelly onto the couch by the coffee table. He stood right next to her, crowding her so that she could not get up. The girl whimpered.

“That’s getting on my nerves,” he told her. “If you don’t stop it, I’ll snap your neck.”

Kelly tried to stifle her cries, making funny noises in her throat. She ran her index finger under her nose, tried to wipe her tears from her cheeks.

For several minutes Marcus just stood there, muttering to himself. “Have to do something,” he said. Suddenly, he reached down and grabbed the girl by the wrist. “A walk. We’re going to go for a walk.”

“I don’t want to,” Kelly protested.

“It’ll be fun. It’s good to get outside.”

“No!” Kelly shouted. “I don’t want to!”

At that moment, the front door opened and Fiona stepped in. “I can’t believe I left here without my—”

It was quite a sight that greeted her. Marcus, red and shaking, holding on to Kelly. The child crying, her eyes wide with fear.

“Grandma!” she shouted, straining to get free, but Marcus would not let go.

“What’s going on?” Fiona demanded. “Marcus, let go of that child.”

But he did not. Kelly continued to cry.

“Marcus!” she shouted. “I told you to—”

“Shut up, Fiona,” he said. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Have you lost your mind? What are you doing?”

He bellowed at her. “What did I just say? Did you hear what I said? I told you to shut up. And if you don’t, I’ll snap her neck. I swear to God I will.”

Fiona took a few tentative steps into the room. “Marcus, just tell me—”

“Where are your keys?”

“What?”

“Your car keys. Where are they?”

“Marcus, whatever you’re thinking of doing, this is crazy.”

Marcus put his arm around Kelly’s neck.

“They’re in the car. I left them in the ignition.”

“Get out of my way. Kelly and I are leaving.”

“Please, Marcus, just tell me what this is all about.”

“It’s about Emily’s mom,” Kelly blurted.

“What?”

“Don’t listen to her,” Marcus said. “She’s just a stupid—”

Outside, the sound of a truck door slamming.

FIFTY-NINE

The first thing I saw when I ran into Fiona’s living room was Marcus with his hand around Kelly’s neck. Then Fiona, her face white with fear.

“Stop right there,” he said, and I did.

“It’s okay, honey,” I said. “It’s going to be okay. Daddy’s here.”

“Did you block Fiona’s car?” Marcus asked. “Because we’re getting out of here.”

“It’s too late, Marcus. I know. The police know.”

“They don’t know anything,” he said.

“Know what?” Fiona asked. “What is it?”

“Ann went out to meet you that night, didn’t she?” I said. “Because she was blackmailing you. You lured her out that night to kill her.”

Marcus’s eyes blazed with anger. “That’s not true.” He looked at Fiona. “It’s not true.”

Fiona looked at me and back to Marcus, disbelieving. I said, “Oh, it was you. Ann says your name. On the video.”

“I only wanted to talk to her,” he said. “She fell. It wasn’t my fault. It was an accident. You ask the police. The tire was flat. She got out to check it.”

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