by R E Swirsky
***
6:17 pm
Jack sat in the passenger seat and stared nervously out the window as Brad drove him back to the hotel. He glanced at his Blackberry and saw he had seven messages since he last held his phone. He listened to them quickly. Two were from his mother. She would be arriving tomorrow with his father from Victoria. Two were from the Reginald at the office.
“…Sorry to hear about your loss, Jack. We’re here if you need to talk or anything.”
He probably left the second message after reading one of the many newspaper articles about Jack’s assumed involvement.
“…And you take as much time as you need to get this all sorted out, son. I’ll have someone pick up your workload for a while. Take care.”
One was from Fred.
“Jack, we just heard what happened. We are cutting our trip short and will be back to help with anything you need.”
He obviously left that message before Frank and Tracey heard that Josh was a suspect. The two oldest messages were from Donna's mother.
“Jack, please call me. I’ve been trying for days to get ahold of Donna. She was supposed to call me… I’m worried, Jack.”
She cried harder in the second message.
“The police told me Donna was murdered…They won’t tell me any details, Jack. Please call me. I don’t know what to do.”
Jack hit ‘delete all’. He really didn't want to talk to anyone right now, but knew he couldn't put it off for too long. Maybe he would feel like talking tonight.
They were almost back to the hotel when Jack received a text message from Dean. He read it.
DEAN what are you playing at jack?
Jack deleted the message.
"Anything interesting?" Brad asked when he heard the blackberry ping.
"No nothing, just my mother. She'll be here tomorrow sometime." He stuffed the Blackberry in his pocket.
Brad dropped Jack back at the hotel and said he would call the next day. Jack was just inside the lobby when he received another message from Dean. He stopped to read.
DEAN we need to talk
Jack knew this would happen. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with Dean right now.
JACK why
DEAN I'm not stupid
JACK I didn't say you were
DEAN meet me
JACK why
DEAN you know why
JACK no, I don't know why
DEAN one hour. black diamond pub
DEAN be there
JACK no
DEAN you'll be there
Jack deleted all of the messages and looked at his watch. One hour. The Black Diamond Pub was a good forty-five minutes from town. Dean chose this pub for two reasons: it was forty-five minutes away and because of what Jack said over a few beers the last time they were both there.
Jack went to his room, changed, and readied himself to meet Dean. Dean knew he didn’t have a car. How was he supposed to get to Black Diamond without a vehicle?
Jack called the front desk. He talked his way up to the night manager who gladly made some calls at Jack's insistence, and his promise of compensation, and located someone who could open up the car rental office down the street. For a modest premium, a car was quickly arranged for delivery to the hotel in about fifteen minutes.
Jack called his mother while he waited for the car to arrive.
“Oh, Jack. Are you okay? I’m so sorry. Donna was lovely,” she said.
“I’m doing fine, mom. It’s just so sudden, that’s all.”
“Do you need anything?”
“I’m fine. Really, I am.”
“Well, you just keep strong. We’ve booked our flights and we land around noon.”
“They won’t let me back into the house right now. I’m at the Holiday Inn at the edge of town.”
“I’ll have your father call and book us a room there as well. You just sit tight and we will see you tomorrow.”
“Thanks, mom.”
Jack hung up and moved on to his next call.
Donna’s mother, Brenda, cried when she heard Jack's voice. She and Donna’s father, Andrew, lived across town with Donna's sister, Sherri, in the Sherman subdivision. Their house sat up on the hillside overlooking the town below.
“Why haven’t you called until now?” she sobbed. “I was so worried!”
“I’m sorry, Brenda,” Jack said. “I was in Vancouver when it happened… I’ve basically been living down at the police station answering questions since they flew me home.”
“I’ve been listening to the news,” Brenda said. She composed herself. “You? A person of interest? It’s just a load of bull, Jack. I never thought for even a second that you were in any way involved in my Donna’s death. Don’t you worry. Andrew and I will stand by you through all of this. We know how much you loved our girl.”
“She was strangled…” He tried not to cry.
“Come on now, Jack. We already heard how she died. It’s terrible.”
“But…” he wiped away at the tears. He could hear Brenda’s voice break with every word she spoke as she tried not to sob again. “…the neighbor boy is the main suspect,” Jack said.
“Your neighbor? How could the boy next door do such a horrible thing?”
“I don’t know, Brenda. But, I loved Donna so much… I miss her more every hour.” He told her nothing about Dean’s assumption that Donna was having an affair. “I should go. I’ll call you tomorrow, Brenda.”
The car arrived as Jack was finishing his conversation with Brenda. He gave the driver a ten-dollar tip for delivering the car and was on his way to Black Diamond just as the sun was setting.
He arrived in the dark, parked his vehicle in the corner of the back lot, and entered the bar. He scanned the bar for Dean. There were two groups at the pool tables, a couple of players on the VLT machines, and a handful of other patrons. Dean wasn’t among them. The sole waitress delivered fries and cheeseburgers to a couple sitting in the corner booth along the perimeter of the main room. A television buzzed behind the bar, drowned out by Dwight Yokam singing about a honkytonk man.
Jack walked up to the bar and ordered a double whiskey, neat in a tall glass. He grabbed his drink and selected a small table in the corner next to a window. It was the perfect spot to watch the south road for Dean. He sat down just as he spotted Dean's Ford Pick-up pulling into the lot.
Dean eyed Jack as soon as he entered the room and grabbed a beer at the bar before joining Jack in the corner.
"I'd like to say it's good to see you, but I'd be lying," Jack said. He stayed seated and stared blankly at his glass. "You haven't been much of a friend these past days."
"This really isn't a social call." Dean gulped at his beer and wiped the foam from his lips. He eyed Jack inquisitively.
"I really don't know what you're getting at. Why the secrecy?"
"Like fuck you don't," Dean whispered back and leaned in close to Jack. "You wouldn't have come at all if you didn't know what I was talking about. You managed to rustle up a car pretty fast."
Jack chuckled. “Well, explain it to me anyways. Just say it. What are you thinking? Say it out loud."
"Don't shit me, Jack. I'm not here to play games. Your wife is dead, and I'm the fucking lead detective in this case!"
"...and you're going to find the murderer. Right?" Jack cut in with a fake grin.
"Damn right, I am. You think this is funny?"
"Of course not. Donna's dead. What do you want from me?"
"I want the truth."
"I told you the goddamn truth twenty times at the police station."
"Bull shit!" Dean leaned back, slugged back on his beer, and glared at Jack. He shook his head in disbelief.
"What did you said to me the last time we were here, exactly four months ago? Oh, I think I remember. We were drinking over at that bar and just shooting the shit. I wa
s talking about the Ralston murder and how the trail of evidence left by the boys was obvious. I told you we didn't even have to collect it all or present it all in court to put those two away forever. Do you remember that conversation, Jack?"
"Sure," Jack replied and sipped his whiskey.
"You said, 'The way things are nowadays with all of this DNA evidence, I can commit a murder tomorrow and there is no fucking way anyone will ever catch me. Not even you, Dean. Nobody. The DNA evidence will prove me innocent. Not guilty.'"
"Yeah, I said that, and it's true," Jack replied. "I could do that."
"I think you killed Donna."
"You know me, Dean. How could I kill Donna? I loved her," Jack said and swallowed back a whimper.
Dean laughed. "You are one fucking sly bastard. It wasn't really what you said, but the way you said it. You didn't say ‘nobody could ever catch me.’ You said, ‘nobody will ever catch me.’”
"You're crazy. I didn’t kill Donna."
"I think you did."
"You're the detective."
"I am the detective. I really thought I knew you. What kind of game have you been playing with me?"
"I'm not playing any game. You're the detective, so go find my wife’s murderer."
"Fuck! That boy is innocent! I've interrogated hundreds of shit-criminals from all walks of life. That kid doesn't even know how to tell a fucking lie! You should see him! He’s a fucking mess!"
"I heard there was solid evidence against Josh. I wasn't even there that night, remember?"
"I am so pissed at you right now; I'd like to take you out back and beat the living shit out of you for what you are putting that boy through right now!"
"I'm not doing anything to that boy. You are. My wife was murdered while I was out of town. Now please, go find the murderer, detective."
Dean swallowed hard and ran his hands through his hair. "You set that boy up."
"I what?"
"One comment, Jack. That's all it took from you. One fucking innocent comment that made my detectives jump, drag that boy out from his warm bed in the middle of the night and bring him in for questioning. You nearly gave those officers an erection with what you said."
Jack said nothing.
"You're not going to respond? Do you deny it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"The fucking guitar comment, Goddamn it! You told the other detective after I left you last night that Josh went downstairs after dinner Saturday night and started playing guitar."
"He did play guitar. So what? You're detectives wanted every single detail."
"Don't kid me. You know Donna was strangled by a guitar wire."
Jack jumped off his chair and stood. "What the fuck, Dean? No, I didn’t know that! No one told me that. A guitar wire? Really?"
"You can play innocent, Jack, but I'm not that stupid. We never would have even looked at Josh if you hadn't said anything about his guitar."
"Your detectives are good. They would have made that connection sooner or later."
"Oh, you're really getting on my nerves now. You say this same shit over and over, and I'm the one who is going to pursue this every day. I’m scared now that every step I take forward in this investigation is going to drag that kid deeper into the shitter until he gets locked away for the rest of his life for something he didn’t do!"
"Then, like I just said, you're the detective. Go and find the real killer if you don't think it was Josh. I thought Josh was a nice kid, but if he was screwing with Donna as all of your evidence suggests up to this point, I don't really care what the fuck happens to him. Would you care about what happened if you found out your wife was banging the kid next door?"
Dean shook his head and slugged back the last of his beer.
"I'm not done. A three and a half million dollar life insurance policy? C’mon, man. No one takes out a policy like that."
"So you are saying I've been planning this for two years? You think I’ve been planning this since just weeks after we got married. How silly does that sound?"
"You're bad news, and I will find the truth," Dean said and pointed his finger at Jack.
"I really hope you do. Please find my wife’s murderer Detective Daly," Jack said sarcastically. "You can do that can't you? If you are really that concerned for that boy, why don't you just go down to the prosecutor's office and lay it all out for him. Tell him about this little meeting in the dark here tonight and about our conversation a few months ago. Oh, and you should remind him of all of those workouts at the gym we did together, our golf games, and the occasional round of drinks we shared."
Dean glared at Jack.
"I'm not getting myself pulled off this case. You know that's exactly what would happen."
"I'm not asking you to. Just let me be, Dean, and find the real killer. If it's Josh, then it's Josh, but that doesn't make me feel too good about the marriage I thought was so solid these past two years. How do you think I feel right now? Do you even give a damn about how upset I am about all of this?"
"Actually, I don't even know if you feel anything, ever. I thought you did, but now I'm not so sure. You see my problem?" Dean leaned in close towards Jack. "You think I'm done digging into this, Jack? I'm going to dig so deep into your ass that you're going to see my face in the mirror when you brush your teeth in the morning."
Dean stood, turned away, and walked out the door of the pub.
