by Cara Putman
“Who else raced?”
Trevor swallowed. “Grady, Chuck, and Brendan. May have
been another kid or two. But those were the ones I tried to keep up with. Chuck rammed into me when I turned around to come back. When I got oriented, that’s when I saw Grady. I tried to help him, Alanna, I really did.” His voice shuddered. “I always wonder if I’d said no to that stupid race, would Grady have been okay, or would he have still jumped in?”
The next afternoon, as soon as Patience arrived, Alanna headed to the foundation. Laura sat at the front desk filing a nail. “Is Mr. Tomkin in?”
“Nope. He hightailed it out of here for lunch and hasn’t been back.” Laura leaned forward on her desk. “If you ask me, the man isn’t himself.”
“Really? Any reason?”
“Not that I can tell.” The woman checked her fingers then tapped them on the desk. “Guess it doesn’t matter. But if you need him, I’d call his cell. He’s probably up at his land. He spends all his time there. Communing with the property or some such nonsense. If you ask me, he should build already. At this rate, he’ll die before he builds.”
“Thanks. I’ll give him a call.” As she left, her phone vibrated in her pocket. Pulling it out, she clicked it on. “Hello?”
“Hey, Alanna.” Jonathan sounded excited. “Are you at the studio?”
“Nope. Running around. Having Patience is a great help.”
“Patience. Yeah, always your strong suit.”
“Hey.” She must look like an idiot standing in the street wearing a huge smile at Jonathan’s teasing.
“Just calling it like I see it.” He paused, and his voice sobered. “How are you doing?”
“Okay. Headed out to talk to Tomkin if I can find him.”
“Want company?”
“You’ve already spent too much time helping me plan a brilliant event for the Morrises. I’ll be okay.”
“Okay, I’ll try Brendan again.” He paused a moment. “Meet me on the dock tonight. We can try to catch Grandpappy.”
She laughed. “Still think you can catch him?”
“If you’re with me.”
Warmth flooded her. “Thanks. See you tonight.”
Next she called Tomkin on his cell. “I wondered if I could come see you.”
“Any problems?”
“Just a couple questions.”
“Ask away.”
She frowned. It would be better if she could watch his response as he answered. “I promise I won’t take much of your time. Patience is at the studio, so I’m free to come to you.”
“All right. I’m up at my property.”
A minute later, she hopped on her bike and started biking up the hills toward the Grand Hotel and then behind it toward Tomkins plot of land.
When she arrived, Mr. Tomkin stood facing the lake, even though she could barely make him out through the trees as they swayed in the wind. Alanna turned up the collar of her jacket then shoved her hands deep in her pockets as she approached. She couldn’t help glancing around to see if anyone in a ski mask hid in the trees. It was ridiculous, but the events of her last trip still lingered.
“Mr. Tomkin?”
He didn’t turn, fixed on something only he could see.
Alanna eased toward him. “Are you okay, sir?”
“Fine and dandy. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Your friend is dead.”
“That’s not the worst part.” He turned toward her, a haunted
expression twisting his features into a shadowed mask. His shoulders hunched forward, and he looked every one of his sixty-some years, bowed by events. “Don’t you see?” His voice shook. “I started studying the land. Figuring out where to get the best views of the lake.” He turned a bit as if seeing the view for the first time again. “And it hit me.”
Alanna studied him, a wariness churning through her. Something wasn’t right, but she couldn’t tell what yet.
“Don’t you see?” He pinned her with a stare. “Brendan lied.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “He lied.”
“What do you mean?”
“He couldn’t have been where he said when Grady died. He knew things he couldn’t know if he’d been on the shore. He said he only went in to help Grady to shore. I believed him. And no one ever questioned.” He shook his head. “I didn’t. Maybe I should have, but I didn’t.”
Alanna tried to picture the scene. Brendan had been in the water. Why lie about that? Especially since plenty had to see him in wet clothes. “What did Brendan say?”
“He insisted Grady and Trevor raced toward the lighthouse but got knocked around by the waves from a passing boat.”
“There wasn’t a boat.” She was almost certain. She’d remember a detail like that. “But there were more boys in the water. At least five that I remember.”
“Could you see from where you were on the beach?”
She closed her eyes and pictured the beach panorama. The large cropping of rocks still clustered around in a loose interpretation of Stonehenge. But the lighthouse was around the bend of the island. That was one reason she’d thought the boys were crazy to attempt the race in the frigid water. Only a fool or a teenage boy intent on proving something would launch a dare like that. Trevor had fallen into the easily led category. Grady had been out to prove something. And Brendan? As she looked at the scene, she realized he’d stared at Grady with an intensity that smoldered when his gaze slid to Ginger Hoffmeister. The look between Grady and Brendan had been layered with meaning.
“I see you’re making the connections.” Mr. Tomkins shoulders slumped, and he stared across the expanse at Lake Huron lapping the shore. “I don’t know why I never considered that before I came up here, determined to build a house that would shame everyone else. Then I couldn’t imagine looking at that scene every day. And Hoffmeister wouldn’t let me back out of the contract.”
“You wanted out?” No one had mentioned that.
“I couldn’t stare at this scene day after day. Yet I’m still drawn here. Blasted contract.”
“You had to honor it.”
“Sure. But a lifetime of friendship should have made a difference.” He shrugged. “I was wrong about a lot of things.”
“Did you tell Mr. Hoffmeister why you wanted out?”
“No. . .but I think he figured it out. He got real quiet and uncomfortable around me.”
“I think that could have more to do with the foundation embezzling.”
“You figured that out, too?” He sighed. “I knew you would bulldog just like you used to with trig problems. I hate to think that Brendan would do something like that. But I couldn’t let him continue with the books until I could prove who did it.”
“Maybe someone else did it. I can’t figure out his motive. Yes, he took money, but why?”
“There’s a lot about my son I don’t understand. I tried to give him the best of everything. Maybe all I did was create a monster who believes he’s entitled to do whatever he wants.”
“What are you going to do?” She could tell the police chief, but it would sound stronger coming from Mr. Tomkin. He’d need to tell the man why he thought Brendan was involved in Grady’s death and the embezzling. While it didn’t help her with Mr. Hoffmeister’s murder, it would certainly help clear Trevor’s name and go a long way toward bringing him into his own on Mackinac.
“Guess I’ll find Chief Ryan. Fill him in. I don’t suppose the statute of limitations has expired?”
“Ten years for murder for a juvenile.”
“Then he’ll be okay.” The stiffness evaporated from his shoulders, and he stumbled.
“More than likely.’’ Alanna didn’t have the heart to point out that if the court treated him like an adult, then there was no statute of limitations. But if they treated him like the seventeen-year-old kid he was, then Grady’s death had occurred too long ago. If it was an accident, then Brendan should have admitted what happened back then. Still, the truth now was better than an ongoi
ng feast of lies. “Maybe you can talk Brendan into telling Chief Ryan everything.”
“I don’t know. It’s been a long time to risk opening that back up to scrutiny.”
Alanna stepped toward Tomkin, intensity pounding through her. “Brendan owes Trevor the truth. He deserved it eleven long years ago, and if you don’t make your son do the right thing, so help me, I will make sure he doesn’t have a choice. Do not tempt me.”
“I don’t know.”
“You have until the studio show. If Brendan doesn’t tell the truth before that, I’ll make sure it’s announced there in a way that nobody will forget.” She studied him and then felt the wave of frustration begin to recede. “Good-bye, Mr. Tomkin.”
When she left, Mr. Tomkin still stood staring across the lake toward Mackinaw City. The burden of lies and fear held him in place. She prayed he could convince Brendan to come clean. The town needed the truth to be revealed. Eleven years of secrets and shadows had layered to the point she wondered how to fully clear them away.
She hurried to Jonathan’s office, eager to share her news, but took her time climbing the stairs, trying to quiet her breathing. The sound of voices in hushed conversation made her pause with her hand on the knob.
34
No matter how he switched his perspective, Jonathan couldn’t see the connection between Mr. Hoffmeister and Grady Cadieux.
Both lived on the island.
Both died.
There had to be more than those two facts connecting them. Until then, he felt stymied to clear Trevor. And without that, no matter how wonderful the event, Trevor would still paint under a cloud with the other island residents.
Guess he needed to ask Tomkin a few questions. The man knew everything about the island and the people who lived here. Maybe he could fill in pieces for Jonathan. First, he’d try Brendan again. The guy must not have his phone with him, because every time he dialed, the call went straight to voice mail. Jonathan left another message.
He dialed the foundation next, and the phone rang to the point Jonathan expected more voice mail then someone picked up. “Hello?”
“Hi, Laura. Is Gerald there?”
“Nope.”
Jonathan frowned when nothing more was said. “Any way to reach him?”
“I’m sure he’s on his cell somewhere. Probably back up on his
land staring at the lake. He likes doing that. Boy, he’s popular today.”
“Okay. Well, let him know Jonathan Covington called.”
Her lazy voice waited a beat. “Any reason?”
“Had a question for him about Hoffmeister. And something from a while ago.”
“Grady?” The surprise couldn’t be hidden.
“Yep. Thanks, Laura.” Jonathan hung up. Someone needed to talk to the woman about a professional phone presence. Trevor had given him a date, so the plans for that event were started. He might as well nail down the catering details while he waited for Brendan and Gerald to return his calls. Then he needed to finalize the details for the Morrises’ dinner. The night had all the hallmarks of turning unforgettable. That was exactly what he wanted to accomplish for the special couple.
Time flew as he worked through details and firmed up instructions. His door pounded open, and he glanced up.
Brendan Tomkin stood over Jonathan, a grimace pasted on his mouth. “You couldn’t keep your nose out of the past.”
What was the guy talking about? He didn’t know why Jonathan had asked him to call. “You didn’t need to come by. A call would have worked.”
“No. This is better face-to-face. See, everything was going fine until you and Alanna started poking around.”
“Poking where?”
“The past. You’ll regret that, Covington.” Brendan slipped a gun from his pocket and held it pointed at Jonathan’s gut. “Amazing how everything can be fine for years. Then you and Alanna start poking around. Then Ginger decides she needs more money. Can you believe she left me alone for almost two years? Two good years after all her harassing me for more money. I finally tell her I can’t pay any more, and she agrees. Then her kid needs braces. . .at ten. . .and she decides I should pay for them.” He snorted as if he expected Jonathan to understand.
“So what did you do?” Jonathan studied the gun. Too bad he knew nothing about weapons, preferring a pair of binoculars or rod and pole. Brendan held it steady, with too much competence for Jonathan. It looked like he enjoyed holding it. Knew how to make it work.
“The only thing a fine, upstanding citizen can do. Tell her daddy to get her back in line. It’s not like I can sneak money like I did last time. My dad’s not as sloppy as hers is. My old man wouldn’t even let me play at bookkeeper like Hoffmeister did.”
Jonathan scrambled to make the connections. Brendan embezzled money to pay off Ginger, who was blackmailing him? But blackmailing him why? That important piece of information eluded Jonathan.
Brendan took a step closer, but a movement caught Jonathan’s attention. He glanced toward the door out the corner of his eye. A shadow moved across the frosted glass. He pulled his attention back to Brendan, not wanting the man to realize someone waited.
His cell phone sat in the top drawer of his desk. So far he hadn’t had an opportunity to slip it out or try anything with the computer. Brendan stood vigilant, eyes locked on Jonathan and his movements. He had to try before something happened to him or the person on the other side of the door “So what did you tell her father?”
“The typical. Get your girl to leave me alone. Had him good and intimidated until your girlfriend interrupted our little powwow.” He snarled. “Then things spun out of control.”
So he killed Hoffmeister. Too bad Jonathan hadn’t had his phone recording that little confession. He raised his voice as he kept his gaze locked on Brendan. “What now?”
Brendan frowned and inched closer to the desk. The gun felt like it sat mere inches from Jonathan’s nose. “I’m tired of talking.
You need a lesson in keeping your mouth shut.”
“Did it work for Ginger’s father?”
“What?”
“The lesson?”
Brendan’s lips twisted into a sardonic mask. “Yeah. He won’t be talking again.”
“Mr. Hoffmeister.”
“Who else?”
Jonathan felt a tightening in his middle as if everything coiled in preparation for one stand. He wouldn’t go down without a fight. If Brendan had killed Mr. Hoffmeister, nothing would stop him from killing again. If anything happened, he wanted Alanna to know he’d done his best to spread the truth. He balled his fists and pushed from the chair. Brendan stepped back and smiled without a drip of mirth.
“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you. See, I have the gun. You. . .don’t.”
“I’m okay with that.” He whistled a moment, enjoying the flummoxed look that crossed Brendan’s face. “How much did you pay Ginger?”
“Doesn’t matter. She won’t get another dime. I made sure of that.”
“Was it close to twenty-five thousand? The amount that disappeared from the foundation’s books?”
Confusion flashed across Brendan’s face. “How do you know?”
“Your dad sent us on a fishing expedition. Didn’t expect to catch you when we started, but it didn’t take long to figure out you had the access and opportunity. What I haven’t figured out is why. What did she have against you anyway?” Just keep him talking. That’s all he could do with that gun pointed squarely at his gut.
“Said her kid was Grady’s. And if she couldn’t have a daddy, I could pay the equivalent of child support since I killed her child’s daddy. Crazy woman thinks I killed Grady. Can’t prove it, but I can’t disprove it either. Everyone knows we weren’t best friends.”
“Why not turn you in if she thought you killed him?”
“Can’t pay from jail. She decided this was better. And it worked until I decided I was done paying. If she wants more, she has to find a new sugar daddy. Thi
s bank is closed.”
The door blew open, and Brendan spun toward it. Jonathan felt a sinking sensation when Alanna stepped into the room—alone. “What are you doing?” His voice trembled, and he couldn’t hide it. Didn’t she know to go for help rather than come alone? At least the cops would have weapons. She must have left all her common sense at home.
“Brendan Tomkin.” She didn’t seem surprised to see him. “I just had the most enlightening conversation with your daddy. He’s got it all figured out.”
“Doesn’t matter.” A band of sweat appeared on his forehead.
“I don’t know. The truth has a way of clearing old misunderstandings.”
Brendan’s posture stiffened. Jonathan watched with growing concern. How could he get Alanna out of here before the man decided she was a better target? From her steady gaze, Jonathan had the uneasy sensation she wouldn’t leave. Not easily. She might make this her last stand. If only he knew what Gerald had told her. Maybe something in that would move Brendan.
“Why didn’t you say anything then, when it mattered?” Alanna took another step toward Brendan, and Jonathan shifted. He had to get between them.
Brendan spun toward him. “Stay where you are.” The Beretta pivoted back and forth between Alanna and Jonathan. A faint tremble shook the chunky barrel. “Nothing was supposed to happen.”
“But it did.” Alanna’s voice held steady.
“Trevor could have changed the story but didn’t.”
“True. And something I’ll talk to him about. But you were the upperclassman. He was a sophomore. You should have manned up.”
“I planned to, but then Grady died. I was headed to college on a scholarship. Trevor still had two years of high school. I was an adult. They weren’t going to do anything to Trevor.”
“Other than leave him under a cloud of suspicion.” Alanna crossed her arms and looked down her nose at Brendan. “And you were this big hero.” She shook her head. “You had us all fooled. Somehow you got people to forget you were in the water.”
“I just revised details. Instead of swimming, I dove in to save Grady. Too bad it didn’t work. I thought if people forgot, I’d be clean. Funny, I never felt clean.” He studied the subcompact a moment then raised it toward her head. “Guess now I never will.” Jonathan stepped away from the desk. “What do you think will happen if you kill us? You disappear and no one figures it out?”
