The Price of Innocence (28 page)

‘A little banged up, but fine. You didn’t have to wait here …’ She leaned against the warm fender of her car, weariness seeping through her bones. As much as she wanted a rematch with the man, tonight could not be the night. If she didn’t get some sleep she’d collapse.

‘I needed to – look, I’m sorry.’

The cat meowed from the stoop, and the yellow retriever bounded between her and their guest, unsure which smelled more interesting. ‘Geez, David, it’s not your fault. My mother will be fine with it. Granted it wasn’t the best way for you to make each other’s acquaintance—’

‘Not that. I mean, I am sorry for startling your mother,’ he added with the hint of a grin that reassured her he wasn’t
too
sorry. ‘But I have to ask you for a favor, and I apologize in advance. I know you’ve had a hell of a day and you’re exhausted.’

‘You were the only good part of it,’ she said. ‘So go ahead.’

The dog had made his choice and slapped his head against David Madison’s thigh, to be petted as the man spoke. ‘My neighbor called. Channel 15 is camped on my front lawn.’

‘What? How could they have connected you to Marty Davis—’

‘No, no. It’s my wife. She is going to be released by tomorrow morning at the latest. They want to capture the happy family reunion. Newspapers, magazines and certainly the TV stations have been calling me for the past two days about it.’ He looked more weary than she felt, which she would not have thought possible. ‘I sent my boys to my sister’s. At least it’s the weekend, so we don’t have to worry about school or work. I can’t have them ambushed by a news crew during recess. They’re just
kids
.’

Theresa bent into her car to retrieve her purse from the seat and her water bottle from the floor. Then she said, ‘Come inside.’ It ought to be easier to control herself this time, too spent even to consider romance.

‘Last time this happened,’ David said, standing next to her coffee-maker, his body at an awkward tilt, ‘a woman from some Hollywood show walked up to Tony as he waited for his school bus, and asked if his mother had ever tried to sleep with him. He was eight. He didn’t even know what she
meant
.’

Theresa slumped into a chair. ‘I’m sorry, honey.’ The endearment slipped out without thought as she tried to picture reporters following Rachael to school. The idea made her want to beat someone.

David nodded. ‘So the favor I’m asking is – can I stay here tonight?’

Her mouth fell open, ever so slightly.

‘I mean, on the couch. On the floor, I don’t care, I just need a place to hide out. I’ve been through this once already – if I can avoid them for a few days, they’ll get bored and go on to another story. I can’t go to my sister’s; her neighbors will see the car and then the media will find the boys. Maybe tomorrow she can get me some things from the house and meet me at a hotel, but I just couldn’t face the thought of it tonight. Desk clerks have called reporters on me before.’

The dog turned to her with a second set of pleading eyes, making it clear whose side he took.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘Sure. You can have Rachael’s room.’

His shoulders slumped in relief. ‘Thank you. Thank you. I know how this must look, and I promise I’m not usually such a basket case.’

‘Neither am I.’

He laughed. ‘I also promise this isn’t a sneaky way into your bed. I know we –’ he leaned over the table and touched only two of her fingers with his, producing a dangerously electric shock – ‘feel some attraction for each other, but I’m not going to exploit that.’

‘Meaning you won’t try a wee hour visit?’

He shook his head with a smile. Then he added, with equal amounts worry and hopefulness, ‘Unless you want me to.’

‘Desperately,’ she admitted. ‘But not tonight.’

A crushingly relieved smile. ‘I agree completely.’

‘David, can’t you get a restraining order or something? Do you have a lawyer?’

‘I can keep them off my own property and school ground, that’s it. Everything else is a free for all. You didn’t tell your cousin about me, did you?’ he asked suddenly. ‘About my connection to the meth lab?’

‘No,’ she said uncomfortably. ‘But he wouldn’t tell anyone anyway. The fire was an accident and the drug charges have expired.’

‘It doesn’t matter. Everything counts in a custody case.’

‘He wouldn’t expose you just for the fun of it. If it turned out to—’

—
have something to do with Marty Davis’ death
, she had been about to say, but David interrupted. ‘Yes, he would. Nothing against your cousin, Theresa, but cops are not my friends. I’m a freak to them, the guy who couldn’t hang on to his wife, who couldn’t compete with a child. I’m a joke to everyone in this city. Except you.’ Now he took her hand, and held it. ‘My boys are at stake here. Help me.’

She nodded. After a moment she extricated her fingers, reluctantly. ‘Rachael’s room is the pink one – you can’t miss it. The sheets are clean, and the hallway bathroom has towels and soap and shampoo. Help yourself to anything, and that includes whatever you can find in the refrigerator. It won’t be much.’

Then she went upstairs to her room and shut the door.

And, after some thought and with much regret, locked it.

She did wake up, somewhere in the wee hours, but not because David Madison was rattling her doorknob. A slight sound wafted up from the kitchen below, the faintest creak of a floorboard. David had probably decided to forage. He must be hungry; they never did make it to Don’s Pomeroy House.

What a strange situation. She had never had a romantic interest sleeping in her house other than her now ex-husband (who surely could not say the same). She had not allowed Paul to stay over while Rachael still lived at home, and preferred to meet Chris at his place. She felt a sudden and completely unexpected nostalgia for her ex-husband Rick, for the time when every night would find them in their assigned places – husband, wife and daughter. Her life had not been especially happy, but at least it had been consistent. Now she had this new man shaking her up with his proximity to too many crimes for comfort.

Perhaps she had over-thought things. So many events had occurred that week, perhaps she had jumbled them up. There were really two distinct crimes, or sets of crimes. First, the DaVinci meth lab ring from twenty-five years ago, involving Marty, Lily, Ken, David, the unknown DaVinci and Doc, presumably Joe McClurg. Then she had the explosion at the Bingham, involving Kadam and apparently Terry Beltran, if the odorous information Frank had given off meant anything. Terry Beltran could be connected to Marty. So two circles of events, which intersected only in the person of Marty Davis. A coincidence. Cleveland wasn’t
that
big of a town.

Still, perhaps she should put any questions about Lily Simpson’s death to rest before getting any more involved with David Madison. She had time. Time to get to know him better … She dozed, dreaming of the process involved.

The peal of a telephone ripped her from it.

‘Tess? It’s Frank.’

She collapsed back on the pillow. ‘Hell. Don’t you
ever
sleep?’

‘Not this week,’ he told her. ‘Apparently.’

T
heresa threw on some clothes and brushed her teeth, tossing on a little mascara. That represented the maximum cosmetic preparation she felt willing to put into early-morning calls. The door to Rachael’s room remained shut, and she did not see the need to disturb David. If he stuck to his plan, he’d be gone by the time she got came home from work. She left her cell phone number on the table in case he wanted to call, grabbed her water bottle from the refrigerator and edged her worn Ford out of the garage and around his car. Impressive considering she’d had about six hours of sleep in the past forty-eight.

She picked up Frank in nearby North Royalton, since Fleet Management had taken his car in order to pound out the dent in the hood. He wore a loose, long-sleeved T-shirt instead of his usual collar and tie and carried a small bottle of pills, shaking one into his palm. ‘How’s the arm?’ she asked.

‘It would be better if the hospital gave me real painkillers. They’re so worried about prescription drug abuse they just give you sugar pills these days. Angela got Vicodin. I got friggin’ heavy-duty Tylenol because my burns were only a
little
blistered so the doc didn’t feel they were
truly
second degree. Damn drug addicts have ruined it for everyone.’

‘I’m glad she’s all right,’ Theresa said, knowing quite well what was really hurting him.

Of course Frank ignored this and tossed the pill into his mouth.

Theresa offered him her bottle of flavored water – ‘Fortified with vitamins and antioxidants and no additional calories, tastes like very weak Gatorade.’

‘No thanks.’

She headed for the freeway. ‘Where are we going?’

‘West Sixth and St Clair. Right in the shadow of our beloved Terminal Tower.’ He sighed, settled back in the passenger seat as she braked for a light at Bagley Road. ‘Routine patrol checking the alleys found Ken Bilecki’s body at twelve thirty this a.m. It took a half-hour to identify him because he didn’t carry ID, but they traced a receipt from the methadone clinic to his name. Then it took another hour or two to notice the flag I’d put in the system after what you told me about Lily Simpson’s tox results. You always drive through red lights?’

‘It was yellow. I thought we’d make it.’

‘Dangerous, cuz. They’ve already sent the body to your office, so I don’t think there will be much to see in the alley. I thought we could take a look and then go to the morgue.’

‘Medical Examiner’s.’

‘Yeah, OK. That one’s definitely red.’

‘Damn! Who’d think there would be all these cars on the road at four a.m.?’

‘The workday starts early.’

‘It’s Saturday.’

‘Maybe they’re heading home from Friday night, then.’

‘Don’t these people have
jobs
?’ She had to stop again just before the on-ramp, which infuriated her. ‘Why did they move the body?’

‘Because the responding officers hadn’t looked under “notes” on the report screen. I don’t think it’s too bad – as I said, I doubt we’ll find much in the alley. It looks like a standard OD.’

She took another sip and hit the gas. ‘Which alley?’

‘It’s off West Sixth. They found him next to a dumpster behind a diner there. He still had the glass pipe in his hand.’

Theresa sped up to get around a meandering SUV, picturing the scrawny little Ken Bilecki waiting to be taken away with the trash. ‘That’s so sad.’

‘It is sad. It was also inevitable. He’s been working up to it for twenty years.’

‘That’s so
sad
!’

‘You’re getting a little close to that truck. I wouldn’t even have woken you up for this, but I have to know if his tox results are going to show something bizarre like Lily Simpson’s. Even though,’ he went on, apparently thinking out loud, ‘all that means is that there’s bad meth on the streets and they both got some. They probably bought it from the same dealer – why not, they kept in touch. It doesn’t mean it had anything to do with Marty Davis.’

‘But—’

‘But what?’

But another member of their circle is sleeping in Rachael’s bed, Theresa thought, reminding herself at the last minute not to speak out loud. She knew she could trust Frank, though he had the same laughing attitude about the libidinous teacher as every other guy in the city. Men were so unreliable when it came to sexual things. Why did they have to be like that? But Frank would keep a secret if she asked him, wouldn’t he? ‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘Get in the right lane,’ her cousin suggested. ‘Around that Kia. How fast are you going?’

‘Um, eighty.’ It had gotten warm in the car, and she rolled down her window as they sped past the I-480 interchange. A jet came at them, heading for the Hopkins airport on her left. The rush of air seemed exciting, intoxicating.

‘Slow down. There’s not that big of a hurry.’

‘We have to get there before they remove anything else from the crime scene.’

‘I told them to freeze it. Seriously, Tess, slow down. You’re starting to scare me, and that’s not easy to do.’

He put a hand on her shoulder, and she felt such intense comfort from it that her eyes welled up again. She could trust him, of course. But she had promised David. Better to say nothing for now. Besides, if Lily and Ken’s deaths had nothing to do with their past, then David and his family troubles were irrelevant. ‘So you think it could be some kind of killer meth? But Ken didn’t kill himself – did he?’

‘No, an apparent OD. I only want to make sure, or we might have meth addicts dropping like flies – look out!’

A tractor-trailer materialized in front of them. Theresa screamed and jerked the wheel to her left, cutting off a small Volkswagen. Its driver tooted the horn in protest.

It took a moment to return her car to steady travel, as her heart pounded hard enough to make her ribs ache. Frank clutched the dashboard and she laughed at him. ‘Do you
believe
how people behave on these roads?’

‘What is the matter with you? You never drive like this!’

‘But we’re in a
hurry
.’

‘Theresa MacLean, what the hell is the matter with you?’

‘I mean, to be found by a
dumpster
. What a life. Somebody must have cared about him once, encouraged him once. He went to college, or tried. Isn’t that sad?’

‘Pull over.’

‘What?’ This bizarre question roused her from melancholy over Ken Bilecki’s death. ‘
What
?’

‘Listen to me carefully. Take your foot off the gas. Move into the right lane – there’s no one coming, go ahead. Now go on to the shoulder.’

‘But we’re not there yet.’ Hell, they hadn’t even passed the old Mead sign.

‘On to the shoulder, now. Slow-ly. There’s plenty of room here. Come on.’

She protested past 117th Street, where the houses break off into deep woods, the landscape too undulating to build on. But he nagged, slowly and steadily, until she slid the car off the pavement and on to the rough shoulder and stamped on the brakes hard enough to make the car jerk. ‘
What
? Why are we stopping when we have to get to the crime scene?’