Paradox

by Catherine Coulter

  He smiled real big when he saw Ty, nodded to Sala, saw Mrs. Sparrow and Eric coming behind them. He’s a heartbreaker, Ty thought again. “Anything we should know about, Officer Romero?”

  “Dr. Ellis left about thirty minutes ago. Ms. Saks and Congressman Mellon are with Leigh right now. Each left only once for a bathroom break and some coffee. One nurse and two techs went in, then left.”

  Sala said, “And here is Mrs. Sparrow and Eric Sparrow. They’ll be coming in with us.”

  Romero got to his feet. “Of course I know Mrs. Sparrow and Eric.” He nodded to Susan and smiled, shook Eric’s hand. “Eric bought me my very first legal beer down at Beer Heaven out on Route Forty-Four.”

  “Your first three legal beers, as I recall,” Eric said, and tapped Romero’s arm. “I remember you puked in the parking lot.”

  “But not on your precious truck,” Romero said. “I jumped out, didn’t want you to break my jaw.”

  “At the very least,” Eric said. “It was my new F-150.”

  Susan rolled her eyes. “Every year it’s a new F-150. Who knows if it’s new or not?”

  Eric gave her an appalled look. “How could everyone not know?”

  Ty held up her hand. “I forgot to ask you how well you knew Leigh, Mr. Sparrow.”

  Eric said, “Fact is, I never knew her very well because she interacted primarily with Susan when she worked at the crematorium. Of course, I was in Afghanistan much of that time. Hey, you knew her better, Romero.”

  Romero felt the weight of everyone’s attention on him. “It’s weird to think she’s different now, smarter somehow. I heard the nurse saying she bet Leigh now had a really high IQ, she seemed that smart. Well, she wasn’t smart growing up. I always liked her, thought she was really pretty and it was too bad. Some of the kids made fun of her. I’m about two years younger than her, so I wasn’t one of the guys who wanted to take her out.” He shrugged, colored a bit. “And I guess guys being guys, they were eager to score, well, to take advantage, until they met Ms. Saks. She had them believing she’d shoot any guy who tried to get fresh with Gunny—with Leigh. I don’t remember her ever really dating anybody. They couldn’t pass the Ms. Saks test.”

  Sala wondered if Leigh had ever had a relationship that included sex. Probably not. Had she ever been kissed?

  When the four of them entered the cubicle, Lulie turned to them, a finger to her lips. “She’s asleep. Dr. Ellis said it’s the best thing for her. Chief, Agent, I’m pleased to see you. Susan, Eric, what are you doing here?”

  Susan whispered back, “It was my idea, Lulie. I wanted to see Leigh, talk to her. Lulie, you know Mr. Henry’s belt buckle was found with all those human bones in Lake Massey. No matter how light a hand Chief Christie and Agent Porto have, no matter what active measures we take, you know some people will wonder if we dumped some of our deceased clients into the lake, didn’t in fact cremate them. I’m hoping Leigh can remember more of what was said that day with Mr. Henry about that belt buckle, maybe help figure out why it was in the lake.” She paused, looked over at Leigh. “She looks so peaceful. It’s hard to think of her as being different now, as being, well, whole.”

  Lulie felt tears spring to her eyes and swallowed. She didn’t tell Susan the medical determination Dr. Ellis had made, it didn’t matter. “I hadn’t realized the implications, Susan, but now I do. Let me assure you, Leigh hasn’t forgotten anything about that day. When she wakes up, she’ll be pleased to go over it with you. Now, let me introduce you to Congressman Mellon. He’s Leigh’s father. He came immediately when I told him she’d been hurt.” Lulie said nothing more, just stood back and smiled and watched Andrew take over.

  Andrew shook Susan’s hand, then Eric’s. Eric said, “I voted for you, Congressman, always believed you were a stand-up guy.” He looked over at Leigh and smiled. “Glad you came, sir.”

  Andrew said, “I am, too. Leigh worked for you, Mrs. Sparrow?”

  Susan nodded again, but she never looked away from Leigh. She looked the same except for the big white bandage around her head. Her face was beautiful, her skin translucent. Susan said, “Eric’s right. It’s good you’re here. I didn’t vote for you, sorry.”

  He smiled. “I find it hard to understand why some folks don’t vote for me. It’s always a blow. But I always hope they’ll come into the light at the next election.” He paused. “I would have thought everyone in this town would know by now that Leigh’s my daughter.”

  Eric said, “The news hadn’t yet reached the house of the dead, Congressman.”

  “Eric, please.” Susan looked at Lulie. What did she think about her daughter’s father showing up? If she were Lulie, she might have shot him. She said with a warm smile, one she reserved for the bereaved, “I’m so happy for you, Lulie. When Leigh wakes up, may I speak with her?”

  “Of course. Look, Susan, I don’t want to see the crematorium bankrupted when I’m sure you had nothing to do with either the bones or the belt buckle in Lake Massey. Ty and Sala are smart. They’ll figure out what happened, you’ll see.”

  Eric said, “Thank you for believing in us, Lulie.”

  “Eric, your parents were fine people. They raised two honest boys.” Lulie looked over at her daughter, who was awake and yawning, blinking her eyes. “Let me tell her you’re here.”

  Lulie walked to Leigh’s bedside, stroked her cheek with her fingertips. “Hello, sweetheart. How do you feel?”

  Leigh smiled up at her mother. “I’m okay. Don’t worry, Mom.”

  “Would you like to speak to Susan Sparrow? She and Eric are here to see you. And Chief Christie and Agent Sala.”

  Yes, of course they were here, Leigh had heard them talking, clear as day. It was strange, but she hadn’t been aware she was awake. How odd that was. She called out, “Chief Christie, Agent Porto. Hello, Susan, Eric. I’m glad you came. I’d like to thank you for coming, especially Susan. You were a good boss, very patient with Gunny—with me.” She waited until Susan stood beside her. “Forgive me, but I’m still floating on the ceiling. But the pain medicine should clear out soon, and I’m hopeful of a soft landing.” She studied their faces. “I understand you must be worried about what people will think of the crematorium. And of course you realize many people don’t think all that deeply, they prefer always to latch onto the most titillating answer. But everyone knows the Sparrow family. You have no need to worry.”

  58

  * * *

  Susan could only stare at the young woman she’d known for as long as she’d lived in Haggersville. Her eyes were a bit blurred from the drugs, but her voice—no longer was her sweet voice diffident, uncertain, always pausing to see if someone else wanted to speak. Now her voice was strong, confident, and what she’d said about people? “Yes, that’s it, exactly,” Susan said. “Chief Christie and Agent Porto told my family you’d changed your name from Gunny back to your given name, Leigh. I’m glad you did. It’s a lovely name.”

  “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Leigh looked beyond her, smiled. “Hi, Eric, it’s nice of you to come.” She patted the other side of her bed.

  Eric walked to her, lightly touched his fingers to her hand. He couldn’t help it, he stared at her as his sister-in-law was doing.

  Leigh asked, “Susan, do you have any idea how Mr. Henry’s belt buckle could have gotten in the lake?”

  Susan knew she had to stop gawking at this young woman. “No, I don’t. Nor do Landry or Eric.”

  Eric said, “We told the chief and agent that none of us saw his body. It was delivered in a shroud from the morgue. We moved him in his shroud into a closed coffin for the memorial service. Then he was cremated. We never saw a belt buckle, and it definitely wasn’t among his ashes.”

  Susan shrugged, looking helpless. “We’re at a loss.”

  “I see,” Leigh said. She remembered vividly what she’d heard had been done to Mr. Henry.

  Susan leaned close. “Leigh, I’m sorry to ask you, but could you please tell us about that afterno
on you first saw the belt buckle? We’re hoping, praying, you’ll remember something else that happened in that meeting, something that might help Chief Christie and Agent Porto.”

  Sala said, “Give it a try, Leigh. Think back to that afternoon with Mr. Henry. Picture it again. You’re there. You’re eating birthday cake. Is Mrs. Boilou in the study with you and Mr. Henry?”

  “No, I told you, she took her slice of cake and left.” Leigh continued, her voice calm, and once again she gave a perfect recital of her visit from the moment she’d walked through his study door carrying his birthday cake to when he’d sworn her to secrecy about the belt buckle. “And so I left, went home, and told my mom how happy Mr. Henry was with his birthday cake. There was no problem about keeping the belt buckle secret. I forgot all about it until Agent Savich showed it Monday on TV.”

  Eric said, “This was Mr. Henry’s seventy-fifth birthday, right?”

  Leigh smiled. “Mom put a big blue sugar seventy-five on top of the cake.” She paused, then, “Do you know, Susan, I didn’t wonder then, but now it seems strange he had a Star of David belt buckle when he wasn’t Jewish.”

  Sala said, “I checked his background, no mention of Jewish relatives or ancestors. Both Ty and I found it odd as well.”

  Leigh said, “I see him so clearly, so very proud of that belt buckle, and he kept polishing it over and over again. And caressing it, which was creepy, now that I look back on it. It was like a valued prize he’d won. He told me how the belt buckle brought back wonderful memories of the first time in his life he knew what was important to him. And he kissed the belt buckle. Now, that really was creepy.

  “Thinking about it now, I wonder how a Jewish belt could represent what was most important in his life? Where did he get it? Who gave it to him or sold it to him? Or did he steal it?”

  Ty said, “All excellent questions. But a stolen belt buckle? How can that have been so important to him?”

  Eric said, “It’s amazing you can remember so clearly everything Mr. Henry said after five years.”

  Leigh said, “Do you know, it doesn’t feel amazing, not any longer. It feels, well, natural.” She felt pounding in the back of her head, a constant, but the pain meds were still hanging in, keeping the worst of it at bay. Thankfully, the meds weren’t strong enough to fuzz up her brain.

  Andrew said, “Leigh, if Mr. Henry said words you didn’t understand back then, how can you know what he said now?”

  She couldn’t say Dad, not yet, maybe not ever. Chief Masters was more her dad than this man who’d fathered her. “Sir, all I know is when I pictured Mr. Henry saying those words, how his mouth moved, well, suddenly each word was clear.”

  Lulie smiled. “I know that might make all of you uncomfortable, but Dr. Ellis said Leigh might have had a kind of partial seizure disorder and with the surgery and medication, it’s under control now. If I can accept it, then you must as well.”

  Eric grinned down at Leigh, and the bad boy came through loud and clear. “Maybe someone went after you because they were jealous of you?”

  Leigh patted the white bandage wrapped around her head. “Not yet, Eric. Let me get the handkerchief off my head, my hair washed, and a touch of lipstick on, hey, then maybe somebody’ll be jealous.”

  Leigh had made a joke, an actual joke, and everyone laughed except her mom and Susan. Lulie couldn’t help it, she kept gawking at her daughter. As for Andrew, he looked proud.

  Eric said, “You think the person who struck Leigh down might still believe she knows something to incriminate him or her that Leigh hasn’t thought of yet? That’s why you have Romero guarding the door?”

  “That’s right, Mr. Sparrow,” Sala said. “We’re not going to take any chances.”

  Leigh said, “I appreciate that, Chief Christie. Susan, Eric, I’m being hypnotized tomorrow. We’ll see if any more comes out. If so, Chief Christie will let you know.” She smiled at Susan, who was still staring at her. She said, rich humor in her voice, “Susan, it’s okay. I know I’m a surprise to you, but it’s still me.” She turned to Ty. “What does Mrs. Boilou have to say? Does she remember that day five years ago? Maybe remembered something I didn’t?”

  “We can’t get in touch with her,” Sala said. “Vacation at her sister’s, we were told.”

  All the uncertainties were reaching critical mass in Ty’s brain. She felt exhausted. She wanted to crawl in beside Leigh. Then her phone buzzed with a text from Dillon.

  You and Sala come to dinner at my house.

  Important. An hour and a half?

  She texted back. What’s on the menu?

  Time to take a risk.

  Count us in.

  Ty looked up to see Lulie was crying, her face against Andrew’s shoulder. She raised blurred eyes to Ty. “Even now Leigh’s still in danger.”

  Thankfully Leigh hadn’t heard this. She’d fallen asleep again. Eric and Susan Sparrow were standing silent, looking on. What were they thinking? Ty put her hand on Lulie’s shoulder. “Ms. Saks, this will all be over soon. Chief Masters will keep Leigh safe.” Ty smiled. “Maybe when Leigh wakes up again, she’ll have the solution.”

  Eric said, “After seeing her now, I wonder what she’ll decide to do with her life.”

  Lulie hiccupped, gave a ghost of a smile. “Maybe a rocket scientist?”

  “Or a politician,” Eric said, shooting a look toward Leigh’s father.

  59

  * * *

  SAVICH HOUSE

  GEORGETOWN

  WEDNESDAY NIGHT

  Ty set down her fork, sat back in her chair, and patted her stomach. “I’d drive to Maine for that lasagna, Dillon. It’s so much better than mine, I want to steal your recipe then shoot you so I’m the only one left who knows how to make it.”

  Sala said, “You don’t have to worry about me shooting you, Savich. I’ll sign over my paychecks to you if you’ll cook for me.”

  Savich laughed and looked at his wife, who was drumming her fingers on the table, lips seamed. He gave her a moment, knew she wouldn’t be able to help herself, and, sure enough, in the next second, out came “And what about the garlic toast? You didn’t think it was the best garlic toast you’ve ever eaten? And the Caesar salad? Wasn’t the dressing spectacular enough for you guys? Weren’t the croutons cheesy enough, crispy enough?”

  Savich said, “Ty, so Sherlock’s hair doesn’t burst into flames, start with how you’d drive from Montana to eat her garlic toast and the salad. Go.”

  Ty, no slouch, said, “Forget Montana. I’d sail over from Hawaii, Sherlock. I gotta say, your amazing Caesar salad left your husband’s pathetic attempt at lasagna in the dust.”

  Sala said, “Your garlic bread, Sherlock, it was so good I didn’t want to eat anything else, especially Savich’s excuse for lasagna. What I said, ah, I was only being polite.”

  Sherlock looked from one to the other, nodded. “Well done, both of you. Dillon, don’t you dare laugh,” and she threw one lone remaining crouton at her husband. “Yeah, yeah, you’re the king. And now I’ll have to listen to these two go nuts over your coffee.” She rose, hands on hips. “But you wait. In a little while, if I think you’re worthy, I’m going to let you try my apple pie. Picture it, hot and bubbling straight from my magic oven, topped with French vanilla ice cream.”

  After the table was cleared and kitchen cleaned up, they adjourned to the living room with cups of Savich’s amazing coffee and Savich with his tea, which neither Ty nor Sala complimented since they weren’t stupid and they wanted Sherlock’s apple pie.

  Sherlock said, “Let’s begin with Victor Nesser. We need some new eyes and perspectives on this problem. To catch you up, some more specifics about what happened in Winslow. Cindy Wilcox, the teenager who saved herself, said Victor was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, one minute respectful and nice, but as soon as he stepped into her apartment, he turned into a monster, screaming at her, cursing her, intent on killing her.” She drew a deep breath. “Dillon believes he understands
what it all means and how it’s related to everything else that’s happened.”

  Savich said, “Sala, remember the girl’s mad laughter you heard at Gatewood?”

  “Not something I’ll easily forget.”

  Savich leaned forward. “It couldn’t have been Lissy, she’s dead. I’m the one who killed her, so I didn’t understand what was going on. Dr. Hicks believes Victor was broken after Lissy died. His losing Lissy so devastated him that his mind fragmented. Now, given what happened with Cindy, I can think of only one answer. The only way Victor could deal with her loss was to integrate Lissy into himself.”

  “A split personality?” Ty asked. “A Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde?”

  Savich nodded. “I think the only way he could survive was to keep Lissy alive. I think Victor becomes Lissy and then himself again. That’s what Cindy told us, if you think about it. And that means they were already together in the psychiatric hospital. There’s nothing in any of the doctors’ records, which means Victor was able to hide it from them. And now, on the outside, Victor and Lissy each have his and her own scores to settle.”

  Sala was shaking his head. “But the laughter, Savich, it sounded like a girl, a real girl, not a guy trying to imitate a girl.”

  Savich took a sip of his Earl Grey tea. “That must mean she literally takes him over, that Victor becomes Lissy—not only her voice and the way she speaks, but also her way of looking at things, everything. I can’t explain it and neither can Dr. Hicks, but what other solution could there be?”

  Ty said, “So Victor is somehow channeling Lissy Smiley? He becomes her?”

  Savich said, “It’s tough to come to grips with it, but consider what happened. Victor stops for dinner at the diner in Winslow, Virginia. The pretty young waitress, Cindy, sees his big wad of hundred-dollar bills when he pays the check, and yes, obviously Victor wants her to see the money. She flirts with him, invites him back to her apartment. She wants to persuade him to take her with him and share all his money for a while.”