Chapter 26
“Did you ask him about Weber and Coulson, the allegation that they were lovers?” Sophie asked when Adam returned. The two walked down the hallway, toward the front desk.
“Yeah.”
“What did he say?”
Adam shrugged. “Not much really. I think it’s a big to-do about nothing. Davis saw them hug or something. I think Walker was enjoying the drama.”
“So you don’t think JW was Weber?”
“Not saying that. He probably was, if he was really Randall’s right hand man. I can see him wanting to keep an eye on someone if he believed they provided a threat to the community.”
“I suppose. And even if they were gay, no big deal. Unless, of course, they really did make that officer disappear.”
“Like I said, probably just drama.” Adam glanced over at Sophie, who was looking ahead and not at him.
They found Barbara at her desk. She informed them Hammond was having a good day and would be up for a visit.
“He enjoys company; not all of our Alzheimer patients do,” Barbara explained as she led Adam and Sophie to Carl Hammond’s room, located in another wing on the opposite side of the building.
“Does he get lots of visitors?” Sophie asked.
“His daughter comes once a week, but his son lives in Texas, so he only sees his father a few times a year. Of course, Mr. Hammond doesn’t know the difference; he no longer recognizes them.”
“Then should we bother talking to him?” Sophie asked.
“It’s up to you. Mr. Hammond believes he’s still the editor of the paper, lives in the distant past. Sometimes he doesn’t seem to even remember that, but they tell me he’s having a good day today.”
Barbara showed Adam and Sophie into Carl Hammond’s room. It was much nicer than Jerome Walker’s, with a large picture window overlooking the garden area. Outside, flowering vinca provided splashes of pink and white along the perimeter of the artificial turf, while red geranium blossoms filled clay pots.
Inside, Carl Hammond, a large man with a full head of white hair, sat on a recliner with a thin quilt folded neatly across his lap. The hospital bed had been recently made, and it was obvious Carl hadn’t yet tried out the fresh sheets.
“Mr. Hammond, you have guests,” Barbara greeted. Carl looked up; his blue eyes were bright, and there was a smile on his face. He looked first at Adam.
“Mr. Hammond, I am…” Adam began, only to have the elderly man cut him off.
“I know who you are Wally, don’t be silly. Have you finally decided to take an ad out in the paper?”
Barbara smiled, tapped Adam’s hand as if to say goodbye and then left the room.
“Ad?” Adam frowned; then he smiled. “Yes, I was thinking of taking an ad out. For the motel?”
“Good. Who is this with you?” Carl asked.
“This is my friend, Sophie Marino.”
“Marino? Why is that name familiar?” Carl puzzled.
“Anthony Marino?” Adam suggested.
“His sister keeps pestering me. Wants me to write an article about her missing brother. I’m not about to do that.”
“Why don’t you want to?” Adam asked.
“I can’t be writing articles that make the town look bad. Who wants to visit a town where people disappear? I know who butters my bread.”
“What do you know about Anthony Marino?” Adam asked.
“What do I know? I don’t know anything.”
“Mr. Hammond, do you remember that they found Anthony Marino’s body? Buried at the lake?”
“Of course I know that,” Carl snapped. “Why are you asking me all these questions?”
“I’m sorry,” Adam said quickly. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wondered if you could tell us anything about what you might know regarding Anthony Marino’s disappearance.”
“He used to hang out at that liquor store. Bud is a good advertiser. He told me.”
“Bud? Did he own the liquor store?” Adam asked. Sophie remained quiet, allowing Adam to ask the questions.
“Of course, didn’t I just say that? But why are you asking me about Marino? He was staying at your place.”
“Yes, Mr. Marino was staying at our motel.”
“I guess there was nothing you could do about him bringing her to his room. Jeb saw her, you know. I told him he best keep his mouth shut about it. After all, Coulson owns his building.”
“Jeb?” Adam frowned.
“You know Jeb. Owns the hobby shop near your motel. He told me about her sneaking over there, going the back way. Like no one is going to notice her going back there.”
“Her?” Adam asked. “Who are you talking about?”
“You know, Vera. Vera Coulson. Didn’t I just say that? Her father-in-law owns the mall. Told Jeb to keep his mouth shut or he might lose his lease.”
“Are you saying Vera Coulson was seeing my grandfather?” Sophie blurted out.
“I don’t know your grandfather.” Carl looked confused.
A man pushing a lunch cart came through the door, interrupting their conversation.
“Fred?” Adam said with surprise when he realized who it was. “What are you doing here?”
“I guess I could ask you the same thing,” Fred said as he pushed the cart farther into the room and began setting up lunch for Carl Hammond.
“Hello, Mr. Hammond, how are you today?” Fred asked Carl.
“Do I know you?” Carl looked confused.
“I’m Fred Garcia, sir. I’m bringing you your lunch. Are you hungry?” Fred asked as he arranged the lunch on a rolling table and positioned it by Carl.
“Did I order this? I like to eat lunch at the diner.”
“This is from the diner. They asked me to send it over. A surprise.” Fred smiled.
“How nice. I’ll have to remember to give them a tip.” Carl looked over the food and then glanced up at Adam and Sophie. “Who are you?” Carl asked with a frown. “Why are you in my office? Do I have to call security?”
“I think you better go now,” Fred whispered. Quietly, Adam and Sophie followed Fred out of the room, leaving behind Carl Hammond, who was now engrossed in his lunch.
“How long have you been working here?” Adam asked.
“About six months, part time. They’ve been cutting my hours back at the cemetery. I didn’t know you knew Carl. Haven’t seen you here before.”
“We just wanted to ask him a few questions.”
“How did that work out for you?” Fred chuckled.
“Not bad. It was about something that happened in the past.”
“Well, Hammond lives in the past. Was it about that hitman?”
“How did you know about that?” Adam frowned.
“Was he really your grandfather?” Fred asked Sophie.
“Yes. But how did you know?”
“Sam Peterson talked to me this morning.”
“Sam? I don’t understand,” Adam asked.
“He was questioning me about what I saw at the cemetery on Friday. If I saw Angela Carter.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I just saw this one.” Fred nodded toward Sophie. “Peterson said something about her being the granddaughter of that guy they found buried up at Sutter’s Lake, and that she was trying to find out who murdered him.”
“I’m just trying to learn more about my grandfather,” Sophie spoke up. “It’s not like I actually expect to solve the crime after all this time.”
“I suppose it’s good you understand that. It would be a waste of time to try. Never was any evidence or witnesses from what I recall.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Sophie snapped.
“What do you mean?”
“There was blood on my grandfather’s clothes. All they have to do is run a DNA test and find the killer.”
“And why would they do that now? I bet they don’t even have the blood any more.”
“They have to keep evidence. Look at th
e cold cases now being solved because of DNA.”
“I don’t believe the local police department has evidence on that old case.”
“No, they don’t. The FBI has it. And after I contact the FBI about reopening my grandfather’ case, they’ll run tests on that blood and find the killer.”
“Good luck. I find it hard to believe they’ll spend the money. I understand those tests cost a fortune.”
“That’s okay. I’ll pay for the test if they won’t.”
“Lord Sophie, what was that all about?” Adam asked after they left Fred.
“That man just pisses me off. First, he refuses to give me simple directions at the cemetery. Fakes some phony Spanish accent, and then he gets all know-it-all about my grandfather.”
“Well, Sophie, I don’t think it’s a terrific idea to broadcast your intent to get the FBI to run a DNA test.”
“So you do think the responsible party is still out there?”
“I sort of doubt it, but it’s possible.”
“Okay, I’ll be careful from now on. It’s just that that man is so annoying.”
“Fred isn’t a bad guy, Sophie. I’ve known him all my life. When I was a kid, he worked for my dad in the restaurant. He’s a hard worker. But he’s always been something of a loner. He generally minds his own business. When I first started going to the cemetery alone to see my dad—with the beer—Fred never said anything to my mom. He never bugged me when I was there.”
“Well, sure, you gave the guy beer.”
“I don’t think that was it. But I’m just saying, don’t be so rough on him. He hasn’t had an easy life. His family is pretty messed up.”
“Okay. But, Adam, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Who is Vera Coulson?”
“Can we discuss this in the car?” Adam asked as they walked down the corridor of the care home.
“Sure.”
When they got into Adam’s car five minutes later, Adam turned to Sophie, who sat in the passenger seat.
“Vera Coulson was Garret’s mother. My sister’s grandmother. She died when Sarah was a little girl.”
“Oh.” Sophie sat quietly considering what Adam was saying. “I figured she was related, I just… Well, never thought it might be something like that.”
“Sophie, I haven’t been completely honest with you.”
“What do you mean?”
“This thing is getting a little weird. I’m torn between my loyalties to my sister’s family and trying to help you.”
“I understand. But what do you mean you haven’t been completely honest?”
“When I went back to talk to Walker, he didn’t describe a simple hug. It was much more graphic. I don’t have anything against gay people. My manager, Steve, is gay. I’ve known him for years; I’m friends with his husband. In many ways, they’re family.
“But this is different. Randall Coulson was obviously in the closet. All those stories about Mary Ellen being the love of his life, it’s pretty obvious now; the real reason Randall never remarried or got into another relationship. He was already in a relationship… with a man. I don’t know how Harrison will take this news about his parents. And now this. To tell him his wife might have been having an affair with your grandfather…”
“Adam, why do we have to say anything?”
“You mean, you plan to keep this to yourself?”
“Adam, I have no intentions of hurting your family, the people you love. We don’t even know if any of those things are really true. I saw how devastated my father was when he read those articles about my grandfather. I wish he’d never learned the truth. He wasn’t responsible for his father’s actions, and whatever happened back then—with Randall, Weber and Vera—it doesn’t need to become public knowledge as far as I’m concerned.”
Without thought, Adam leaned toward Sophie and kissed her lips. The action seemed to startle Adam as much as Sophie, whose eyes widened in surprise.
“I’m sorry,” Adam said quickly. “It’s just that… well, I needed to kiss you.”
Without saying another word, Adam turned away from Sophie and started the car’s engine.
Chapter 27
On Tuesday morning, while Alexandra shared Mary Ellen’s diary with Kate, and Adam and Sophie looked for clues regarding Anthony Marino’s murder, Garret was in his home office, trying to decipher his grandfather’s illegible handwriting, focusing first on the October 1960 entries.
Randall Coulson had the habit of noting just the month and year, never the day of the week or specific date of an entry. Some of the entries were a brief one-liner, which had no meaning for Garret. But after one page, Garret found mention of Marino.
* * *
October 1960
One of the most handsome men I’ve ever met sent champagne over to our table this evening. I’d like to think he was trying to get my attention—which he did—but after observing how he looked at Vera, and how she behaved, I suspect his interest lies elsewhere. Has my daughter-in-law taken a lover?
I’ve asked John to check into Marino. Something is not right there.
It’s worse than I imagined. Peterson has been informed to keep an eye on Marino.
John handled the problem. I don’t know what I’d do without him. Marino is no longer a threat.
Harrison agreed to my suggestions. Vera is in a safe place. Garret asks too many questions. I should have gotten rid of Marino sooner.
* * *
Garret closed the book and sat quietly at his desk. Had his mother had an affair with Marino? Was that the reason for the note passed through Russell—a lover’s note? Did Randall have Vera’s lover killed? If so, Garret wondered how much his father knew. He also wondered what Randall meant when he wrote, Vera is in a safe place.
Garret re-read the entries, pausing on the section where Randall wrote, One of the most handsome men I’ve ever met. He frowned and then turned to the very first page of the ledger. It was dated August 1949.
* * *
I’m beginning to regret giving Mary Ellen the diary. I still haven’t found where she hid it. So why am I starting this one? I no longer have Mary Ellen to talk to. I miss my dear friend. I never imagined she would go first. Doesn’t a man marry a much younger woman so he can leave behind a lovely grieving widow to spend the fortune he’s accumulated over the years?
* * *
Garret continued to read, moving through the years, skipping over entries he didn’t understand or those he found mundane and focused on entries that held a personal interest.
* * *
John Weber has agreed to transfer to Coulson. I need him by my side. I don’t love him as I did William, but he is a good man and always there for me.
John handled Davis. I told him to let it go, but he was determined to protect me. I love him for that.
I wonder if William and Mary Ellen have forgiven me. I still feel guilty for preventing them from being together in all ways. Yet, then I look at Harrison and my grandsons, and I know I would not change the past if I could.
* * *
Throughout the ledger, Randall would note that Mary Ellen’s diary had never surfaced. At one point, Randall wondered if his wife had had an inkling her health was not good and taken it upon herself to destroy the diary.
* * *
Perhaps I need to consider doing the same thing—destroy this now, before it is too late. Yet, I don’t plan to go anywhere soon.
* * *
By the time Garret finished reading the diary, he had a headache. He wasn’t sure if it was eyestrain due to his grandfather’s chicken scratch or from what he’d learned about his family. For a brief moment, Garret considered destroying the book before anyone else had a chance to read what Randall had written, yet he quickly dismissed that idea.
Garret locked the ledger in his desk drawer and went to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee and some aspirin. On his way there, Alexandra arrived home.
“We need to talk,” Alexa
ndra said the moment she walked through the front door and spied Garret coming down the hallway.
“Can it wait? I think I’m getting a migraine.”
“It’s about your grandmother’s diary. There’s something… well, disturbing we need to discuss.”
“Trust me, Alexandra, there is no way Mary Ellen’s diary could be any more disturbing than Randall’s.”
“Oh, Garret, I’m afraid I would have to disagree with you.”
Garret paused and looked at his wife. He wondered if Mary Ellen knew Randall was gay. At least, that’s what Garret now assumed, considering what he’d read. But that wasn’t what troubled Garret—it was the fact his grandfather may have ordered a hit on Anthony Marino—and perhaps on several other people who had gotten into his way over the years.
“Okay,” Garret said after taking a deep breath. “Let me take a couple aspirin, grab a cup of coffee, and meet you in the living room.”
“Go ahead and tell me what you found so disturbing,” Garret said wearily after he and Alex were settled in the living room ten minutes later. He’d brought along a second cup of coffee for his wife.
“Just like that? Do you want to tell me what you found first?” On the way back from Kate’s, she had been anxious to speak to Garret, yet now she wished she could forget the whole thing. Why did I have to read that diary? Alex asked herself.
“Go ahead, Alex. I might actually already know what you found out—after reading Randall’s diary.”
“Okay,” Alex said hesitantly. “William Hunter was your grandfather—not Randall. Our last name should be Hunter, not Coulson.”
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