Thicker Than Water

by P J Parrish

  “Scott shot Spencer Duvall,” Louis said quietly. “Jesus.”

  Mobley nodded. “Guess Scott isn’t going to make his plane.”

  A strange feeling came over Louis, something faintly resembling satisfaction, but it was dull. He had found Duvall’s killer, brought Bob Ahnert home his lost daughter and he even knew what happened to Kitty. But there was one thing missing.

  “It’s not enough, Lance,” he said quietly.

  “It has to be.” Mobley closed the file. “Scott’s still in there with Brian. I think I’ll arrest him while he’s here. Want to watch?”

  “Yeah, I do.”

  Mobley rose and opened the door. Scott was just coming out, Brian trailing. Scott’s face was purple and patched with two butterfly bandages. He had a thin red split in his lower lip.

  “We’re going now,” Scott said.

  “You’re under arrest,” Mobley said.

  Scott’s swollen eyes moved from Mobley to Louis. “You’re kidding, right? What for?”

  Mobley turned Scott around. Scott didn’t resist as he looked back over his shoulder.

  “Hey, come on, Lance. What’s this about?”

  “Scott Brenner, you’re under arrest for the murder of Spencer Duvall.”

  Scott tried to spin around, but Mobley jerked him back, pressing him against the wall.

  “Christ, Lance,” Scott said. “Ease up here. I barely knew Duvall. I had no reason to shoot—”

  Mobley spun Scott around to face Louis. Louis expected to see at least some flicker of fear on his face, but there was nothing.

  “Tell me what you got,” Scott said. “The old file, right? Okay, I had it. Duvall called me over there after Cade’s visit. He wanted me to take a look at what he was up against—”

  Mobley yanked on the cuffs.

  Scott’s face suddenly went cold. “Hell, I’ll be out in an hour.”

  Mobley reached in Scott’s jacket and pulled out the Air France ticket. “No, you won’t. You’re a flight risk.”

  Scott jerked his face toward Louis. “You just won’t let it go, will you?”

  Mobley stepped between them quickly. “Wait outside, Louis.”

  Louis didn’t move.

  “Outside. Now.” Mobley said.

  Louis walked stiffly down the hall to the lobby. He shoved open the door and stepped into the sunlight.

  He stood for a minute, forcing himself to breathe slowly. Then he walked over and sat down on the edge of a concrete planter. He looked down at his hand, flexing it slowly.

  It wasn’t near enough, but it was all he had.

  A strange image to came to him. A child killer cornered in the dark and his friend, Dan Wainwright, pulling a trigger, making his own kind of justice.

  It was the only way I knew it would happen.

  A few weeks ago, Louis had condemned Wainwright for it. Cops didn’t make their own justice. Not good cops. But sitting here now, knowing Scott would never be punished for what he did to Kitty and Lou Ann, he understood. And he wondered, had he known last night what he knew now, would he have been able to walk away from the graveyard?

  “You okay?”

  Louis looked up. Mobley was standing over him, a silhouette against the sun.

  Louis nodded. “Just thinking.”

  “Sorry I threw you out. One dead prisoner a month is enough.”

  Louis suddenly remembered the Haitian prisoner. “You ever find out who killed that Haitian guy?” he asked.

  “Yeah, another prisoner. They were fighting over cigarettes. The guy admitted it.”

  Louis was staring at the ground. Another assumption about Cade he had gotten wrong.

  “The Duvall charges will be dropped against Cade,” Mobley said.

  Louis still said nothing.

  “Why don’t you go get some sleep.”

  Louis shook his head slowly.

  “Then go call Tonto. Give her the good news.”

  Louis looked at Mobley. “Yeah, okay.”

  Mobley was standing there, hands in his pockets. Louis wanted to say something to him, to thank him for coming along on this, for putting his ass on the line. But they both turned at the sound of a van pulling up to the curb. The side read WINK-TV FORT MYERS.

  Mobley watched the cameraman get out. He reached in his pocket and pulled out an Altoid tin. “I guess I better go do my thing,” he said.

  Louis nodded.

  Mobley started toward the van, then turned back to Louis. “Next time you’re in O’Sullivan’s, I’ll buy you a drink.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  He let Susan drive, not sure he could handle the roads as tired as he was. She was quiet, but he sensed she was happy. This miserable case was over and her client was absolved of murder, including Kitty’s.

  Susan pulled up in the drive of J.C. Landscaping and cut the engine. “By the way, thanks for coming with me,” she said. “I hate coming out here alone.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  He followed her to the trailer door and waited while she knocked. He didn’t see anyone working in the yard, but Ronnie’s truck was parked near the shed. Eric opened the door and let them in.

  Jack Cade was sitting in a worn chair, dressed in his boxers and a T-shirt. A beer can sat on the table next to him. Ronnie was in the kitchen and Louis could smell hamburger cooking. Eric slumped back down into the couch and trained his eyes on the television. They were watching an old version of Star Trek.

  “Jack,” Susan said. “We have some good news.”

  “Don’t tell me,” Cade said. “You got me off.”

  Susan glanced at Louis. “Yes. They’ve dropped the murder charges for Spencer Duvall. They’re charging Scott Brenner.”

  Cade’s eyes jumped to Louis. “My lawyer? Fuck, don’t that beat all? What about my new trial thing and the money? Who’s going to handle that?”

  Louis came further into the room. “Brian Brenner has been arrested for killing Kitty Jagger. When he’s convicted and the story comes out of how they set you up, lawyers will be beating down your door to represent you.”

  Cade stood up slowly, the beer can in his hand. “That snotty little bastard . . .”

  Eric and Ronnie looked at Cade.

  “You mean to tell me that piece of shit killed that girl,” Cade said. “And he stole my fucking tool? And then put the panties in my truck? Those cocksucking bastards!”

  Cade flung the beer can toward the kitchen. It smashed against the wall, splattering beer.

  Ronnie had flinched and was still half-cowering at the stove. Louis glanced at Eric. He was staring at the beer dripping down the wall.

  Eric rose slowly and went to pick up the beer can.

  “Leave it the fuck alone!” Cade yelled.

  Eric dropped it and looked up at his grandfather.

  “What are you looking at?” Cade spat. “Get out of my face.”

  Eric started toward his room, and Cade caught his arm, spinning him around. “Go outside. Get the fuck out of here.”

  “Cade, leave him alone,” Louis said. “Jesus.”

  Eric jerked free and ran out the front door. Cade stood there for a moment, his eyes unfocused. Then he looked at Susan, who was standing there, stunned.

  “How long before I get my money?” Cade asked.

  Susan started to explain about how long lawsuits took, but Louis was looking beyond Cade, into the kitchen where he could see Ronnie wiping up the spilled beer. He turned and looked out the window. Eric was in the front yard, wiping his face, kicking some rocks through the dirt.

  Cade’s voice drew his attention back. “I think I’ll ask for five million.” He smiled at Susan. “But you can settle for three. That ought to be enough to get me the fuck out of here.”

  Ronnie turned from the stove toward his father. “What?”

  “Mexico,” Cade said. “A man can live cheap there. Three mil will last me a lifetime.”

  Ronnie came forward. “What about the business?”


  Cade stared at him, but it was almost like he wasn’t even seeing him anymore. “Who the hell wants it?”

  Ronnie stared at his father, then turned and went back to the stove. Cade plopped back down in his chair. Susan was trying to explain something to him, but he was barely listening.

  Louis flexed his aching hand. The hell with this....

  He turned and left the trailer. Eric was still out front, tossing rocks, trying to hit the pile of plastic containers stacked against the shed. He looked up at Louis and then his eyes went back to the trailer door. Louis walked up next to him.

  “So he’s not going back to jail, huh?” Eric asked, tossing another rock.

  Louis hesitated. “No, he’s not.”

  Eric stared out across the rows of plants, his jaw set. Louis tried to think of something of comfort, something that would tell Eric things would get better. But he knew they wouldn’t.

  Eric looked up suddenly. “Can a kid get in trouble if he knows something?”

  Louis couldn’t read Eric’s dark eyes.

  “Are you trying to tell me something, Eric?”

  Eric hesitated, then dropped the stones and started toward the shed. Louis followed. Eric went around the back, stopping at a group of potted palms.

  He looked back at Louis, then lifted one of the palms from the pot.

  “I hate him,” Eric whispered. “I just hate him.”

  Louis looked down. The gun in the plastic bag looked like a hundred others he had seen. But he knew it wasn’t. It was the Chinese Tokarev.

  Louis looked back at Eric. “Does your father know about this?”

  Eric shook his head.

  Louis rubbed a hand over his face. “Go back inside, Eric,” he said. “Don’t say anything about this. Just tell Miss Outlaw I’ll be in the car.”

  “No, no,” Eric said, shaking his head. “I can’t go back in there. He’ll kill me if he finds out.” Any bravado that had been in Eric’s face was gone; he looked terrified.

  “Eric, listen to me. You can’t say anything, do you understand?”

  “No—” Eric started to back away. Louis grabbed him by the shoulders.

  “Eric, just go back inside and be quiet. Trust me, okay?”

  Eric was close to crying, but he nodded. Louis let him go, his hand lingering on the boy’s shoulder. He was shaking.

  “Don’t worry,” Louis said. “I’ll take care of you.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  When he dropped Susan off at her house, she asked him if something was the matter. He told her nothing; he knew there was no way he could explain it to her. He wasn’t even sure he could explain it to himself.

  Back there at the Cade place, looking at Eric’s face, he had made a decision. It hadn’t come from that place Susan called his cop-brain. It had come from some place deeper inside him.

  He headed the Mustang due west into the low slanting sun. The Tokarev was hidden in the trunk. He showed his resident badge at the causeway and drove on to Sanibel.

  This time, when he appeared at Candace Duvall’s door, the maid let him in without a word.

  He found Candace and Hayley having drinks on the patio. Hayley saw him coming and set down her glass. Candace had her back to him, but turned when his shadow moved over the table.

  She moved her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose and looked at him, then turned her back. “What do you want now?”

  “Money.”

  Candace spun around in her chair, pulling off her sunglasses. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Twenty years ago, your husband covered up the identity of Kitty Jagger’s killer and allowed Jack Cade to go to jail,” Louis said.

  Candace’s eyes flickered and she put her glasses back on. Louis had the feeling that what he had just said was not a surprise to her.

  “You’re nuts,” Candace said.

  “I know how he did it and why he did it,” Louis said. “And I’m on my way to tell Jack Cade.”

  “And why should I care?”

  “Like I said, money. The Cades will sue your husband’s law firm. Then they’ll go after his personal assets, like this pretty house.”

  Candace was sitting very still.

  Louis moved around so he could see her face. “I might even suggest to them that you were behind your husband’s scheme. Then they can come after you too.”

  “I committed no crime,” Candace said.

  “You want to tell that to a whole courtroom?” Louis asked. “With your girlfriend sitting right there in the first row?”

  Candace looked over at Hayley. “How much?” she said.

  “Fifty thousand, and I promise you that you’ll never hear from me or the Cades again,” Louis said. “Think of it as a gift.”

  Louis stared down at her. He was blackmailing her, but a part of him didn’t care. Blackmail would be the least of it, if the rest of his plan worked.

  Candace got up and went inside. Louis glanced down at Hayley. She was looking at him with a small smile on her lips.

  Candace came back with a check, made out to cash. “How do I know you won’t come back for more?”

  “You’ll just have to take my word for it, lady.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  It was dark by the time Louis got back to J.C. Landscaping. Ronnie’s truck was gone, but Louis could see the blue light of the TV flickering in the window of the trailer.

  Louis cut the engine and opened the car door. It was quiet for a moment, then came the buzz of insects flailing against the dome light. Louis looked down at the small blue gym bag on the passenger seat, then up at the trailer.

  He grabbed the bag and got out.

  At the trailer door, he knocked. The TV was turned up loud to a sitcom, the one about the alien Alf, and the shriek of the canned laughter pierced the night silence. Louis waited until a lull and banged hard on the door. It opened and Jack Cade peered at him.

  “Louie . . .”

  “Come on outside, Cade,” Louis said.

  Cade rubbed a hand over his face. “What you want?”

  “I want to talk.” Louis walked away. Cade followed, closing the door behind him. He stood on the patio, bare-chested, old jeans riding low on his flat stomach. His sweaty skin gleamed in the blue light coming from the television inside.

  “What’s up?” Cade asked.

  “Where’s Ronnie?”

  “Went down to the Circle K. Why?”

  “Eric go with him?”

  “Yeah.” Louis could see Cade’s eyes narrow. “What’s up, Louie? What you doing back here?”

  “We’re going to strike a bargain, Cade,” Louis said.

  Cade arched an eyebrow. “Bargain? What kind of bargain?”

  “I’m going to give you money, Cade, and you’re going to walk away forever.”

  Cade’s teeth flashed as he laughed. “Walk away? From what?”

  “Your son, your grandson. And this place.”

  Cade gestured to the desolate land. “This piece of paradise? Now why would I want to do that, Louie?”

  “Because I have your Tokarev automatic.”

  Cade froze. He was still smiling, but it had turned twisted in the blue light. Canned laughter drifted out of the trailer’s jalousies, mixing with the whine of the mosquitoes in the humid night air.

  “That little shit,” Cade whispered.

  Cade turned away. He walked in a slow, tight circle around the patio. “That little shit,” he said louder. “I knew something was going on with that—”

  “Cade,” Louis said sharply.

  Cade looked back at him.

  “You’re going to take the money and you’re going to leave,” Louis said. “You’re going to leave Ronnie and Eric alone, you hear me? That’s the bargain.”

  “Why should I leave? I’m going to sue! I got big money coming,” Cade said. “They owe me, goddamn it, they owe me!”

  “It isn’t going to happen that way,” Louis said.

  Cade’s jaw was clenched. And
his fist was too. Louis could see it in the blue light. He braced for Cade’s swing, but then, suddenly, Cade seemed to go limp, almost swaying on his feet.

  “You’re right,” he said, shaking his head. “It ain’t gonna happen. I knew it. I always knew it. That’s why I shot the fucker.”

  He was talking about Duvall. “You knew about the statute of limitations, didn’t you? You knew you couldn’t sue?” Louis said.

  “Not until he told me that day I went to see him,” Cade said. “He told me I would never get a dime.”

  Cade cocked his head at Louis. “And then you know what he says to me? That cocksucker lawyer was just sitting there behind his big desk, sitting there looking up at me, and you know what he says? ‘I’m sorry this had to happen to you.’ ”

  The blue light flickered over Cade’s face. “That’s why I went back and shot him. If I wasn’t gonna get money, I was gonna get some justice.”

  A splash of headlights on the trees made Louis look out toward the dark road. But it wasn’t Ronnie’s truck. Louis looked back at Cade.

  “Make a decision, Cade,” Louis said.

  Cade had been staring at the ground. When he looked up at Louis, his face was slack. “How much money?”

  “Twenty-five thousand dollars.”

  “Twenty-five . . . for twenty years,” he said quietly.

  “That and your freedom.”

  Cade stood there for a moment, his eyes taking in the dark grounds and the decrepit trailer. “So I go free and that cocksucker lawyer does my time?” A slow smile tipped Cade’s lips. “I like your style, Louie.”

  “You going or not?”

  “I’ll go tomorrow.”

  “You go tonight, before Ronnie gets back.”

  Cade shook his head sharply. “Fuck that. I’ll go when I’m ready.”

  “You’ll go tonight. Right now. Go get whatever you need and get out. Now.”

  Louis could see Cade’s muscles tense. Louis braced himself again. But then Cade’s eyes drifted down to the gym bag under Louis’s arm.