The Piper (34 page)

‘It's daughters, McTavish. He has two little girls.'

‘No, he doesn't. He has two sons, seven and nine.'

‘McTavish, I just talked to the guy, and he told me about his two little girls.'

‘He was there? At the house?'

‘I just spent two hours talking to the guy. Over a cup of Oolong tea.'

‘Hang on a minute, let me pull up the description on his driver's license. Okay, big guy, six two, weight two sixty, black hair, brown eyes.'

‘No. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Your description is wrong.'

‘I don't know who you talked to, Olivia, but it wasn't Bennington Murphy. Look, give me a description of the guy you talked to. I'm heading down there to have a look, but I need to call this in to the local police.'

‘But—'

‘A description. Come on, Livie. We need to move fast.'

‘Right.' Olivia took a breath. Gave McTavish everything she knew.

‘Look, Livie, is there any chance you'd go back down there?'

‘What, back to Bennington's house? But what should I say?'

‘No, no, don't you dare go back to the house. Just go to the front of the subdivision and wait for me. If something happened to these people, this might be the guy that did it, okay? In which case, you need to be on hand to talk to the local police.'

‘Sure. Sure I will.'

‘But you'll be smart? You won't go near the house. You promise.'

‘I promise,' Olivia said. It was hard to talk, her mouth felt like cotton. ‘What do you think is going on, McTavish?'

‘I don't know yet. But something is off about this. I'll be heading down there after I talk to the local guys and give Donnie Withers a heads up. In the meantime, you stay smart and you stay safe. Keep your phone on. I'll find you. I don't know who you talked to in that house, but I don't like the sound of this.'

McTavish hung up first and Olivia stared at the phone. She would go back, just as McTavish asked, she would stay safe, she would not go alone to the house.

O
livia had to sit at the gas station for a few minutes before she could drive. And while she was sitting it occurred to her. That Bennington and his wife, his two little boys. They might be in that house. She'd had a sense, hadn't she, that someone else was there in the house. Maybe she could help. She needed to go.

She drove steadily, hands gripped so tightly on the wheel her fingers were white. Once, her head went suddenly light and she veered out of her lane and into another, but there was almost no traffic. No cars around. Lucky. She took deep breaths and tried not to think.

It was strange, turning back to Windermere Estates. Everything looked the same until she inched slowly down the street where Bennington lived, and saw two cars marked
Sheriff
parked in front of the house. She pulled to the curb, a couple of houses down across the street, and got out of her car. Put her cell phone in her pocket and walked to the edge of Bennington's ragged lawn. The front door slammed open and a man in a local sheriff's uniform ran out onto the porch, turned sideways, and vomited in the flower bed on the right hand side of the porch. Olivia went back to her car.

It wasn't long before the beehive was alerted. The fire truck came first, even though there wasn't a fire. Then the paramedics. Another sheriff's car, and afterward, an entire fleet of state police, the yellow tan paint of their sedans glistening in the sun. Olivia waited to be noticed. It didn't take long.

Olivia sat sideways, driver's door open on the Jeep. She was too nauseated to finish her coffee, but she handed it to McTavish, who guzzled it down cold in one long gulp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He was white around the mouth, but steady, like always. Calm and steady.

‘Hawkins said you did great. With your statement. They found the tea cups just like you said, he didn't wash up or anything, so they're hoping for prints. Guy like that. He'll be in the system. This won't be his first time.'

Olivia looked over her shoulder at the sound of tires on gravel. Coroner's van. Not in any hurry.

Olivia picked at a thread on her sweater. ‘I was completely fooled. He knew everything about the family, and he looked so sweet. Kind of shy.'

‘You're lucky Mr Sweet and Shy didn't kill you.'

‘When will they bring the bodies out?'

‘It'll be a while. You might as well go home, Olivia. Hawkins may want some follow up interviews, but you're done for now. You're a broker, your prints are in the system already, they'll be able to sort it out.'

‘And they're dead? All of them?'

‘The whole family. Bennington, his wife. The two boys. Even the family dog.'

‘You went in there. You saw it. Where were they?'

‘Basement.'

‘They were down there, the whole time I was in the house?'

McTavish nodded. Gripped her shoulder. Hard. ‘Jamison warned me. God knows how he knew.'

‘Really? You think God knows?'

McTavish kissed her gently on the top of the head.

‘You saw them, right?' Olivia said. Of course he had. She knew it. She could see it in the way he held himself, the distracted way he talked to her, the echo in his eyes.

‘I saw them.'

‘Can I look?'

‘No. And you don't want to, I promise you. And we don't want your DNA contaminating the scene where the bodies are.'

‘Surely they don't think I—'

‘Of course not.'

‘Okay. But you have to tell me. I need to know what happened to them. I need to know how they died.'

McTavish propped his arm on the top of the car. Shoved his sunglasses on the top of his head. His hair was getting shaggy, it needed a cut. There was sweat along the edges of his hairline.

‘The dog died in the kitchen. We found him at the back door, so we think that's where this guy got in. The door had a window, the glass was broken. There was glass in the dog's fur. We think he was defending the house. Dog was shot in the head.'

‘In the kitchen?' Olivia said, thinking of how the Mister Man had offered her tea. How he had shut the door to the little sanctuary, as he called it. What if she had wandered out into the kitchen? Asked to use the bathroom? What would have happened then?

‘Then he takes the family down to the basement. You can see signs around the house where he rounded them up. The kids were in the living room, playing video games. Bennington upstairs, looks like he'd just come out of the shower. Wife in the laundry room, putting in a load of clothes. He herded them all down to the basement. No sign of struggle, we think he had them at gunpoint. Maybe had one of the kids, with a gun to the head. Probably said he wouldn't hurt anybody, if they just cooperated. That's what they always say.' McTavish grimaced. Looked away.

‘He had them sitting in chairs. In a sort of half circle, like they were watching a show. The wife and the two boys.'

‘Did they suffer a lot? The little boys?'

McTavish shook his head. ‘I'm sure they were scared, but they died quick. So did the wife. Shots to the head, close range, one two three. Things didn't go so well for the dad. Killer used one of those heavy duty orange extension cords, strung him up over an open beam, and hung him right there in front of the family. Like they were all gathered there to watch him die.'

‘I hope the kids died first,' Olivia said. ‘So they didn't have to watch.'

‘What the hell did the two of you talk about for two hours?' McTavish said. Something almost like suspicion in his eyes.

She was tempted. To tell him everything. To talk it out, to tell him she had to make a decision. That she was trying to find a way out but was thinking she'd have to make a deal herself. Ackerman had told her to wait, but Ackerman was dragging her feet. Ackerman was afraid.

Olivia knew that she loved McTavish when she decided to shut him out. When you came right down to it, Olivia thought, you were always and ever alone.

‘See you, McTavish,' Olivia said, giving him a gentle kiss on the mouth. It felt a lot like goodbye.

O
livia tried not to think on the way back, to concentrate only on the droning effect of the road. But the noise of it was strong in her mind. The long blond ponytail, the soft pudgy hands, the gentle look of a lamb. Offering her tea. She had sat and listened to the microwave ding, the slam of cabinet doors, while the dog lay in a pool of dried blood where it had died at the kitchen door. What kind of dog was it, she wondered. She could only picture Winston, which didn't help her state of mind. And the bodies, stiff and still in the basement while everything inside the house gathered dust.

It was dusk when she got back to Knoxville. She was tired and she wanted a hot bubble bath, the new familiarity of her hotel room. But she drove to the house first, not to go inside, just to look.

Every single light was on. Like they always were, when the bad things happened.

What would happen if she went inside?

Before she could make up her mind, her cell phone rang. McTavish again.

‘Olivia? Listen to me. Are you back in Knoxville yet? Are you at the hotel?'

‘No, I'm headed over there right now. God, what now, McTavish?'

‘Look. Olivia.'

She waited. Heard him breathing.

‘I'm going to give you the heads up, okay? Go somewhere else for the night.'

Olivia felt the bottom of her stomach drop, the feeling getting all too familiar. ‘Why, McTavish? What's going on?'

‘Donnie Withers is going to be sending someone out to pick you up. He doesn't have a warrant out for your arrest, not yet. He's going to bring you in for questioning, as a person of interest, and he can keep you, Livie, for forty-eight hours without charging you. You can't avoid this, understand. Don't do something stupid like run. But we can delay it. If he doesn't know where you are, and he doesn't have an arrest warrant, he has to find you. So we have some time to prepare. If you're hungry, get something to eat. Take a shower, have a good night's sleep. And be ready, be mentally prepped. My advice is to get an attorney and then let them handle the arrangements with the police.'

Olivia felt cold all over, and she began to shake. ‘Again, McTavish. Why?'

‘Livie, listen to me. The teapot was there, the mugs were on the coffee table in that little office, exactly like you described. One of the cabinet doors was even open part way in the kitchen, right where the teabags were kept. There was a spoon on the counter, a jar of honey, everything exactly like you said it would be.'

‘So what then?'

‘There aren't any prints except yours.'

‘I don't understand.'

‘One of the tea mugs has your fingerprints all over it. The other one, nothing.'

‘No prints at all?'

‘Like it was fresh out of the dishwasher.'

‘Whoever the killer was, McTavish, I saw him. I
talked
to him.'

‘But you get it, Livie, that to someone like Donnie Withers, that just doesn't make any sense. And he doesn't get why the guy would go back there four days
after
he did the killings just to have a cup of tea.'

‘But if I was in on it somehow, why would
I
go back? Look, this guy was in the house with me, he had to have left something, some kind of DNA track, down by the bodies, by that kitchen door.'

‘Yeah. And we got fingerprints there. Prints of a guy with felony hits that would turn your stomach, but he ain't no blond guy with blue eyes. He ain't the guy you described. Donnie's pegging
him
for the murders, and he wants to pick him up, but technically it's not his case, and there are jurisdictional problems that are slowing things down, even though for once everyone seems to be cooperating. But we're going all out on one thing, which is picking this guy up.'

‘Then what does he want with me?'

‘He thinks he's got your accomplice.'

‘
What?
'

‘Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but Olivia, it looks strange. Donnie's trying to make sense out of the whole mess. He's got bodies piling up under suspicious circumstances, and one person making money on the deal out of life insurance, and that would be you. He figures if he gets you locked up in a little room, you'll flip on this guy and tell him where he is.'

‘
And Teddy?
'

‘He's looking for her body, Livie. He doesn't think she's coming back alive.'

‘So they've written her off?'

‘Not written her off. Looking for her killer. Livie, hon, I know you didn't do this, but you have to admit, it's looking pretty strange. No matter what Donnie does, I'm finding Teddy for you and I'm not stopping till I do. Livie? You there?'

‘Here. Okay, McTavish.'

‘I don't have to tell you not to let anybody know you got a heads up. Donnie made sure I was out of the loop, but I've got a lot of friends. It's after six, that's why Donnie is doing it now. It will take you some effort to lawyer up. Find a place to spend the night. Don't use your credit card, don't leave a paper trail. In the meantime, I know a guy who knows a guy, and I can get the legal end going for you, if you'll trust me on this. She's expensive, by the way. The lawyer. But—'

‘I'll give her the mortgage to my house.'

McTavish actually laughed. ‘Livie. You dog. You won't do anything stupid, right? I did the right thing, giving you a call?'

‘I guess that depends on how you define stupid, McTavish. But yes. You did the right thing. And I get how much you're doing for me here.'

‘The main thing is we find your little girl. Detective Donnie may be distracted with his Mister Man hunt, but I've got my eye on the ball. Livie. I just want to tell you—'

‘Don't tell me anything right now, McTavish. Let's see how this all plays out.'