Authors: Amy Gutman
velvet-lined box.
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Friday, May 19
Of
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all that is written I love only that which is written in blood.
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Write with blood: and you will discover that blood is spirit.
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He carried the words with him on a 3
"
x 5
"
index card. Now, 4
sitting cross-legged in the tree house, he pulled out the card to 5
read it.
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Write with blood: and you will discover that blood is spirit.
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He stuck the card back in his pocket and pulled out another 8
one.
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Many die too late and some die too early . . .
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The words of the German philosopher filled him with convic-11
tion. Laura had lived far too long, but soon she would be dead.
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Only time is fair.
Time was what gave life meaning. Once she 13
was dead, his life would start. The burden would be lifted.
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He thought about Diane Massey’s book and how it had gnawed 15
at him. In the end, though, it had served as a spur. Her book had 16
given him strength.
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Saturday, May 20
So what did you and Grams do today?”
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“We made a cake,” said Anna. “Chocolate cake with choco-2
late icing.”
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“Great! That’s your favorite.”
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As she talked to her daughter on the telephone, Callie gazed at 5
her picture, a slightly blurry snapshot of Anna building a snow-6
man in the backyard. The kitchen table was piled with photos 7
that she’d taken out to sort. She’d hit on this mindless yet pro-8
ductive task as a way to fill the hours.
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“I love you, Mommy,” Anna said.
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Callie’s eyes filled with tears. “I love you, too, sweetheart. I 11
miss you so much.”
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“Are you mad at me? For running away?” Anna’s voice was 13
timid.
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“No,” Callie said. “I’m just glad you’re safe.” She had other 15
things to say, of course, but they could wait until later.
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“I’m sorry I made you worried.”
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“I’m sorry you were so unhappy. That I didn’t listen better.”
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“That’s okay. Mommy?”
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“Yes, sweetie?”
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“When can I come home?”
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“Soon,” Callie said. “Once things calm down a little more.
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When the police have finished talking to me. When they’re sure 23
they’ve caught the bad man.”
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Anna didn’t say anything.
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“Hey, isn’t it about your bedtime?”
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“I guess.”
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“Okay, you better skedaddle. Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”
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“Mah-um.”
An elaborate sigh. For a moment, Anna sounded 3
like her old self.
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“ ’Night, sweetheart. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.”
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Callie blew a kiss across the phone line.
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Anna blew a kiss back.
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The airborne kiss only underscored the hundreds of miles be-8
tween them. Callie was overcome with yearning for the touch 9
and scent of her child.
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She hung up the phone feeling desolate, worse than she’d felt 11
for days. The piles of pictures were no substitute for Anna in the 12
flesh. Restless, she stood up and crossed the floor, opened the re-13
frigerator. She wasn’t feeling hungry, but she knew that she 14
should eat. The looseness of her jeans told her that she’d been 15
losing weight.
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For several minutes, she stood staring into the cold bright box.
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Eggs. Cheese. Carrots. Peanut butter. Bread. She finally settled 18
on a grilled cheese sandwich and pulled out the ingredients. She 19
put a cast-iron skillet on the stove and dropped in a pat of butter.
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When they’re sure they’ve caught the bad man.
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And how long would that take?
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For so long, she’d been so confident that Lester Crain was the 23
one. But ever since her talk with Jamison, she hadn’t been as 24
sure. She thought about Jamison’s theory that Diane’s death had 25
triggered Crain. That instead of being Crain’s handiwork, it had 26
been his inspiration. Drawn to Maine after the fact, he’d en-27
countered Callie on Blue Peek Island. He’d recognized her as 28
Steven’s girlfriend and followed her back to Merritt. Posy was a 29
victim of circumstance. Wrong place, wrong time. Posy was dif-30
ferent from the rest of them. She’d never even known Steven.
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That fact, too, seemed to weigh in favor of a possible second 32
killer.
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The butter had started to sizzle. Callie turned down the heat.
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She put a slice of bread in the skillet and laid cheese across it.
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Someone familiar with the neighborhood.
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Someone who may have children.
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Knows crime scene investigation.
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Meticulous.
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A long-range planner.
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She flipped over the sandwich to brown the other side. In her 4
mind, she ticked off the elements of Jamison’s profile. Again, she 5
had a disconcerting sense of being on the verge. There was a 6
name, a face, just beneath the surface, but she couldn’t seem to 7
reach it.
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She slid the sandwich onto a plate and poured a glass of milk, 9
then pushed back the piles of photographs to clear a place at the 10
table.
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Bite, chew, swallow.
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The sandwich tasted like oily cardboard, but she forced herself 13
to eat.
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Through the window, she saw their fenced backyard, weirdly 15
illuminated. A few days ago, a security firm had installed a pow-16
erful spotlight. Callie found herself thinking of Henry Creighton, 17
wondering how he was doing. Now that her fear and anger had 18
ebbed, she could think of him with compassion. Like Anna, he 19
must have been overwhelmed by feelings he couldn’t process.
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She thought of her last encounter with Mimi right here at this 21
kitchen table, how stunned she’d been when Mimi announced 22
Bernie’s infidelity. Clearly, there were tensions in the Creighton 23
household that she’d never come close to guessing. Like Anna, 24
Henry was a sensitive child. Of course he’d been affected.
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Again, Callie sensed the sudden flicker, the glimmer of a 26
thought. But this time she managed to get hold of it. The face 27
was Bernie Creighton’s. In her mind’s eye, she saw his bright 28
smug eyes, the puffed rooster chest. She’d always explained her 29
discomfort with Bernie by the fact that they were such different 30
people. They had different values, moved in different worlds, 31
nothing more than that. Now, uneasily, she wondered if there 32
might be something deeper.
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Bernie would have had a bird’s-eye view of her and Anna’s 34
comings and goings. And who was in a better position to discover S 35
Henry’s plans? Bernie had been at the Easter egg hunt; he could R 36
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have planted the watch. He had an erratic work schedule, even 2
kept an apartment in Boston. With a chill, Callie thought of the 3
phone call to the Creightons after Anna’s disappearance. “No, 4
it’s not about your husband,” the detective had said to Mimi. So 5
Bernie hadn’t been home that night; she wondered where he’d 6
been.
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Callie shoved aside her plate and leaned her head in her 8
hands. For a moment, the story danced in her mind, then reality 9
pressed in. Wouldn’t Anna have recognized Bernie? Not to men-10
tion Henry? What possible motive could Bernie have? How 11
would he know her story?
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But even as she pushed Bernie from her thoughts, another 13
face popped up. She pictured another man with children. Her 14
ex-husband, Kevin Thayer. She’d barely thought of him at all 15
since Lambert’s questioning. At first, the idea had seemed ab-16
surd. She’d dismissed it out of hand. But as she sat here at 17
the kitchen table, the doubts seeped back. How well did she 18
really know Kevin? Not well at all. Even back when they’d 19
been married, there’d been a wall between them. A few weeks 20
ago, when she’d tried to reach him, he too had been out of 21
town. She tried to think back, to figure out what day she’d made 22
that call.
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She was probably being paranoid, but she knew what she had 24
to do. It was a question of matching dates and times. That was 25
how you started.
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Upstairs, Callie sat down at her desk and turned on the com-27
puter. After signing on to AOL, she pulled up Google. She typed 28
in the phrase
Diane Massey
and clicked on the search button. A 29
list of links flashed on the screen. She scanned for obituaries. She 30
had to read through several before finding one where the dates 31
were clear. Diane’s body had been found on April 18. She’d been 32
dead for about a week. That put the murder sometime around 33
April 10.
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Callie grabbed a spiral notebook and flipped to a blank page.
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She pulled out her Filofax, turned to April, and started a chro-36 R
nology.
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April 5 — Anniversary note (Merritt)
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April 10 (??) — Diane killed (Maine)
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April 16 — Easter (Merritt)
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April 26 — Melanie attacked (New York) 4
May 14 — Anna kidnapped (Merritt)
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The roses, that was another thing. He’d left them at her door.
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She’d found them when she’d gotten home from shopping for the 8
dinner party. She thought back, trying to remember exactly what 9
day that was. It had been a hectic week, she recalled. Rick had 10
gone out of town. She’d been on her own on Wednesday night, 11
right before the party. She must have done the shopping on Tues-12
day. Monday would have been too early.
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Scanning the Filofax pages, she realized how overwhelmed she’d 14
been. On April 23, she’d gone to New York, a week later, to Maine.
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It came to her that she’d called Kevin the same day Rick got home.
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That must have been on April 11. She felt a sudden shiver. Kevin 17
had been out of town near the time Diane was killed.
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But why would Kevin kill Diane? That just didn’t make sense.
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She flipped ahead another few pages to April 26, the night that 20
Melanie was attacked, the night before her dinner party. In blue 21
ink, she’d scrawled
Rick to Springfield.
He’d had that in-service 22
training thing.
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At least that’s what he’d told her.
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That’s what she’d believed.
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There wasn’t a precise moment when the idea came to mind.
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Or rather, it was like it had always been there, waiting for her to 27
look.
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Knows crime scene investigation.
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Familiar with the neighborhood.
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Maybe someone with children.
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Maybe, but not necessarily. And everything else fit.
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She didn’t have to think what to do next. She’d done it all be-33
fore. One by one she compared the dates to her Filofax notations.
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April 5, when she’d found the note. Wednesday. Pizza night.
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She’d walked through the door, the note in her purse. Rick had R 36
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been in the kitchen. When Diane was killed he’d been out of 2
town, claiming to be at his parents.’ Out of town when Melanie 3
was attacked. Out of town when Anna was kidnapped.
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Detectives had supposedly checked him out, verified his alibi.
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But after all, he was one of their own, a colleague whom they 6
trusted. How closely would they have scrutinized whatever proof 7