Traces of Guilt

by Dee Henderson

  “You don’t need to offer twice. I’m exhausted.” She did as he suggested, and if she didn’t doze, she at least rested. Gabriel caught glimpses of her face in the lights of occasional passing cars. She was turning off her mind, getting some needed shut-eye. If only he could do the same when he got home.

  As they drove up to the house, Gabriel saw the convertible in the driveway, a few lights on in the house. Ann and Paul had returned from the airport. He pulled into the drive, and Evie pushed the seat upright, waved him off walking her to the door. He waited until she stepped inside, then pulled out.

  Gabriel figured his letter to God tonight would be a short one. He’d already composed it: God, please heal a lot of broken hearts. GT. Grace, Ann, Josh, himself, his parents, the Dayton girl’s parents—the list of people still in pain tonight, even after many years, was long. And don’t forget Evie. She’s carried an unimaginable burden for an awfully long time.

  Gabriel didn’t have a text from Ann that she was calling it a night, so he made a call as he drove through the sleeping town. “Ann,” he said when she picked up, “I’ve mentally jarred myself from thinking ‘Josh and Grace’ to thinking about ‘Will and Karen.’ I can’t say I’m at my best at the moment, but let’s talk, if now is okay with you.”

  “Now’s fine. Karen said we could tell Will the story about Tom Lander and the trial.”

  “I was hoping she’d agree. When do you want to do it?”

  “Time doesn’t help this, Gabe. Josh finds something out at the farm, the media shows up in town, we can’t risk Karen being caught on film in the background of a reporter’s statement. Let’s get the conversation over with. Wednesday morning?”

  “You mean like tomorrow, which starts in about ten minutes?”

  “I’m thinking we go see Will first thing. But we begin with what’s going on with Grace. You, Josh, and your father knowing what’s coming, Will not being in the loop isn’t going to work.”

  “Dad already had a word with him about Grace. We’ll go talk with him about Karen. I’ll pick you up at the house at seven—if that’s not too early.”

  “Paul will be flipping pancakes by then. Eat with us.”

  “Works for me. We’ll tell Will about this guy Karen is trying to shake, make sure Will stays level-headed, doesn’t take off to Chicago to get a look at him. One crisis at a time is enough right now.”

  “Let’s hope.”

  Gabriel smiled at Ann’s tone. “Something has to break our way one of these days, Ann. You okay?”

  “Better, now that Paul’s around asking me the same question. I’ll see you in a few hours, Gabriel.”

  “Done.” He put his phone away. Ann had been smart to get married. He would prefer not to be going home to an empty house tonight. God, do you have a marriage in my future? Because tonight the idea rather appeals.

  NINE

  Gabriel Thane

  Dragging a bit from lack of sleep, Gabriel arrived at the house on Kearns Road at seven o’clock the next morning. He noted the security team’s car in the drive, traded nods as he was recognized. If he’d had any questions about Paul Falcon being on-site, he had his confirmation. As head of the FBI’s Chicago office, the man had no choice about the security that traveled with him.

  Paul opened the door, wearing dress slacks and a white shirt—no jacket yet, but the cuff links were in place, his shoes polished. Paul wore authority comfortably and it showed. “Come on in, Gabriel. I’m in the kitchen following instructions I got from the women last night.” The two men chuckled, and Paul glanced at the stairs. “They aren’t down yet.”

  “Ann fall asleep again?”

  “I made sure her feet touched the floor before I came down. It’s more likely there’s a caucus going on that doesn’t involve us guys.”

  They moved into the kitchen, where Gabriel accepted the mug Paul offered, drank the coffee with appreciation. “You’re looking good, Paul. Marriage and running the Chicago office appear to agree with you.”

  Paul turned the heat up under the skillet, poured in pancake batter. “I’m helping Matthew Dane train for the Boston Marathon, and it’s got me in the best shape of my life. You, on the other hand, look a bit . . . rough,” he decided after a scan, but his grin softened the words.

  “Bad day yesterday,” Gabriel said.

  “I heard.” Paul flipped the pancakes, got out another plate, stacked them, and pushed it over. “Not a thing you could have done about it, Gabe, nor your father.”

  He chose blueberry syrup and selected several pieces of crisp bacon from another plate. “We both know there are men like Arnett out there, with victims left in their wake. But you don’t expect them to be next door. We were childhood friends with Grace. It’s overwhelming to me—to all of us—that we didn’t see it, didn’t help her. Even worse is not knowing how to help her now.”

  Paul slid a glass of orange juice Gabriel’s way. “Ann and I didn’t see it either, not at first. Rachel knew something was back there, would have said it was likely since her training picks up on that kind of trauma. But until Grace wanted to talk, it wasn’t a secret that was going to surface. Grace started trusting her doctor four years ago, let Ann in two years ago. She’s made progress, but I’m with Ann—I don’t think Grace is ready to face head on what she’s decided to do. This is going to be brutally hard on her.”

  “Josh said she cried most of the evening with him.”

  “That’s probably the best thing she could do at this point. She stops letting those tears show, then it’s time to get worried.” Paul picked up a piece of bacon. “Ann said you’re heading over this morning to see Will, tell him about Karen.”

  “That’s the plan,” Gabriel replied as he switched focus, equally concerned about how that conversation was going to go. “We’ll tell him about Tom Lander, talk about the plan if and when the guy shows up around here.”

  “Now that’s a man I’d like to see tossed in jail with the key dropped in the Chicago River,” Paul said. “He’s slick, smooth, dangerous, and deceptive clear down to the core. A chameleon who appears innocent of everything until you peel back the skin and see the viper underneath. He enjoys his rage-driven violence and the destruction he leaves behind.”

  Gabriel listened to the summary, knew that coming from Paul it was, if anything, understated. “My goal is to avoid a day Tom Lander and Will Thane come face-to-face.”

  “A reasonable goal,” Paul agreed. “Maybe Lander never locates her, and this problem is theoretical. But if he does learn she’s in Carin, your best defense is probably a strong proactive offense. Circulate a photo of Tom Lander, let it be known he’s a person of interest. Gas stations, hotels, campgrounds—he’ll get here sooner or later, and you’ve got contacts and friends you can use in a home-court advantage. Put some Thane money on sightings of him. Set it up before it’s needed. He comes to Carin, he has to drive here, fly, he has to stay somewhere. Covering airport and rental cars should be relatively easy. Lodging is broader, but he’ll likely stay at a hotel. He’s not an outdoor camping kind of guy. He shows up, you promptly hear about it.”

  “An interesting suggestion, Paul,” Gabriel said, visualizing how just such a campaign across the county might function.

  “I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Chicago PD will eventually get enough to prove Tom Lander murdered his ex-wife. On our side, we’re trying to build a case related to his past business dealings—I don’t care if we put him in jail for tax fraud so long as we get him behind bars. In the long term, eventually, inevitably, he’ll do something we can arrest him for and get a conviction. Time should help this problem get resolved. My concern is whether that will come soon enough for Karen.

  “But for now, the Chicago PD is keeping an eye on him. He leaves Chicago, I’ll hear about it, and you’ll hear about it immediately. I figure even if he shows up in Carin, it’s not catastrophic if you can get Karen out of sight. He might believe she’s in town, might even have her working at the café. But if
he can’t see her, can’t find her, she’s still safe. You just have to keep her hidden away until he gives up. I’m certain there are places all over this county you can hide her comfortably.”

  Gabriel agreed. Hiding someone was relatively simple around here. Given the number of family friends he could tap, Karen could stay on any number of properties where no one could approach without being tagged long before they reached the house.

  Paul leaned back against the counter. “You can get even more creative, Gabe. Tom hires a local PI, turns out the guy’s rather slow and not very good at his job—as he also happens to be working for the Thane family. And while Tom Lander is occupied here, Chicago can get very inconvenient for him. I happen to know the person buying the building he’s leasing for a new business—he’s hung out a shingle to enter the exterminator business. We can give Lander reasons he has to be back in Chicago. A problem with the building. License issues. Employees quit on him for greener pastures.”

  Gabriel smiled. “I like the way you think, Paul.”

  “He got away with a double murder, he terrorized a witness, he killed his ex-wife—between Chicago PD and FBI, there are a lot of people motivated to see Tom Lander shut down. You won’t be fighting this alone.”

  Gabriel considered that, finished the orange juice, studied Paul. “Ann’s given the impression there’s very little to be done if Tom Lander finds Karen here, except to move her far away.”

  “I make a point never to disagree with my wife, and in this case, I actually don’t,” Paul responded. “I just think there are some things to be tried before that outcome. You don’t leave Karen open to his attack. You keep her out of sight, keep those she cares about beyond reach. But within those parameters, there are options.”

  “I’m realizing that, Paul. I’m glad you came down for the day.” Gabriel heard footsteps on the stairs and turned as Ann and Evie joined them, both looking a lot more alert than he felt.

  Ann greeted Paul with a kiss, a whispered word. Evie tactfully looked away, caught his gaze. Gabriel smiled, and her answering one was tentative, maybe a bit flustered, as she glanced away from him.

  Ann picked up a glass of orange juice. “Sorry I’m late, Gabriel. I’ll take breakfast to go. I can eat while you drive.”

  “We can spare ten minutes so you can eat a civilized breakfast.”

  Ann filled her insulated cup, rolled up bacon in a pancake, waved toward the door. “This is how I enjoy Paul’s breakfasts more mornings than I’ll admit. Let’s go deal with Will, get this day started. Who’s with Josh and Grace today?”

  “Dad’s handling the shovel this morning, Will after that. Evie and I are heading to Decatur to have lunch with the Florist family doctor at noon.”

  Ann nodded. “A packed day all around. Evie, while we’re talking with Will, how about taking Paul by the post office, get him up to speed on the Florist case, see what he notices? He’s good at finances.”

  Her husband winced, and Ann laughed, gave him a hug. “You really are, it’s just geeky grunt work. Gabriel will drop me off there, and you can pay me back by explaining—in copious detail—what you’ve found.”

  “Now that sounds like a deal,” Paul said. “Gabriel, take care of my girl.”

  “Plan to. Come on, Ann. For some odd reason, Will tends to be an early riser.”

  “Yeah.” Ann grabbed her jacket. “We should be about an hour.”

  Gabriel nodded goodbye to Paul and Evie and followed Ann out. He was hoping nothing else in the county needed his attention today—no car wrecks, domestic calls, farm accidents during the last of the harvest, school fire alarms pulled in jest. It would already be a long, intense day without the normal problems of being sheriff crowding in.

  Will Thane

  Sitting on the steps of his back porch, Will Thane broke a strip of bacon in half and held the pieces out to the dogs on either side of him. Apollo nipped the snack from his fingers, swallowed it in one gulp. Zeus sniffed first, bit the top edge, tugged it free, and swallowed it. Will looked at him with amusement. “Took you long enough, young man.” He reached over and scratched the animal behind the ears, got a thank-you lick to the face. Evie’s dogs were getting comfortable with him.

  Apollo subsided to watchful resting, his attention on the barn cats leaping over each other in the backyard, if you could call three acres of open prairie a backyard. Will kept the walks neatly trimmed, but the rest of it was native grasses. He could do without the snakes, but the chipmunks and mice, rabbits and possums, the ground-nesting birds all making their home in the grass attracted eager four-footed and winged prey and kept the snakes’ numbers under control.

  Apollo leaped from the porch to the ground, took off like a dart. A rabbit burst from cover, slipping underneath the shed just in time. “I’d say those bruises are healing,” Will said under his breath, watching Apollo lope back to the porch. His own two dogs were likely down at the pond, pointing birds even though Will wasn’t there to appreciate their skill. The four animals had been enjoying each other’s company.

  Will heard the car before it turned onto the crushed gravel of his long drive, watched it crest the rise and saw its distinct squad-car markings. Probably Gabe bringing Evie out to collect her dogs, he thought, with not a little regret. They were war dogs trained to search out explosives, he’d realized after trying the handful of Dutch words he learned from dog handlers in Iraq. That they were retired while still relatively middle-aged suggested they’d lived through some close explosions and been medically discharged. They seemed calm enough, though he wouldn’t want to be shooting off a firearm near the two. For a cop to have adopted two of them made it likely they were war buddies, accustomed to being together. He was glad they had each other in civilian life.

  A combat medic for a lot of years, he still missed the guys in his battalion. He’d done a solid job over his six years, had the medals to prove it. He’d left because it was time, but he missed his buddies. He hugged the two animals on either side of him, affection for them running deep. Dogs had been part of those years overseas, mostly German shepherds like these two. “That your mom coming to get you, fellas?”

  The car pulled around to the front of the house where he kept a neatly mowed patch of grass and flowers alongside the walk. He heard car doors slam, said go ahead in Dutch, and both dogs bolted from the back porch. He followed them around the corner.

  The dogs were leaping up to greet Gabriel. But it wasn’t Evie Blackwell with him. Will paused, held out his hand with a smile. “Ann. Hello. I heard you were in town.” She’d become an important friend to his brothers while he was away. The news about Grace his father had told him the night before likely explained her visit now. A hard thing, what his father had told him, and a harder thing yet, what Grace was asking Josh to do.

  “Will, good morning,” Ann said. “We need to talk with you about something. It’s related to Karen Lewis.”

  The way Ann said it had him narrowing his eyes at her, then looking to Gabriel. He recognized the expression on his brother’s face—sheriff’s resolve crossed with a large slice of empathy. Will had promised his mom to clean up his language now that he was home or he would have expressed his feelings in the words first to mind. Will sighed instead and walked up the front steps to open the door for his guests. “Come on in. Coffee is hot.”

  He’d made a deal with himself that he’d make no major decisions in the first three years back in the States—a homecoming gift to himself, and so far he was honoring it. Come year four, he planned to build a larger master bedroom onto this place, ask Karen to marry him. Then he’d start blueprints for a few more bedrooms. The land was spacious enough to raise half a dozen kids, with room for outdoor forts, golf carts, bikes, horses, some sheep and cattle. Karen wanted kids too, he’d already discovered.

  Karen Joy Lewis had a way with her smile that reminded a man of what was good in life, and a joyful woman was high on his wish list. He figured he’d fallen for the crepes coming out of the restaurant k
itchen, then spied the woman making them, and tumbled a bit further the first time he was able to catch her eye and get that flash of a smile before she looked away. Karen would be a delight to have sitting at his table for the next fifty-plus years. He’d rival his dad for being a contented married man.

  Whatever Gabriel and Ann wanted to talk about concerning Karen, he needed coffee in hand first. “Watch the construction zone.” He was getting ready to gut the living room and dining room to redo the electrical and put up new drywall. “The kitchen half is finished. Come on through.”

  The updated kitchen had counters long enough to make a professional chef envious, with double ovens, a large range, and a wide-screen TV to keep him company while he worked at the center island.

  Will pulled out a chair for Ann, let his brother get them coffee, pulled out another chair so he could see the back porch and open the patio door if the dogs wanted to come in. “What do we need to discuss about Karen?”

  “Do you remember a trial up in Chicago,” Gabriel began, “a few months after you came back home . . . restaurant owners, a couple, stabbed to death?”

  Will shook his head. “It wouldn’t have stuck with me even if I’d seen something in the news about it.” He accepted the mug of coffee Gabriel handed him.

  Ann laid a folder on the table in front of him. “I pulled three articles from the Chicago Tribune. The first report is on the crime, then the trial in progress, its verdict. Take your time reading. It’s easier this way.”

  “Easier for who?”

  “Me mostly.”

  Will pulled out the articles, found them in chronological order, and began to read, assuming it related to Karen. Given the look he saw pass between Ann and Gabe, he wondered if Karen was maybe the daughter of the victims.

  She’d come to town with some kind of trouble in her past, he knew. He’d seen soldiers who had lived through years of war and recognized a similar look in her eyes at times. Given that sadness, he was careful in how he asked about the past so as not to stir the pain. He was content to enjoy the present he had with her and let her talk, or not talk, as she preferred.