Diane set the picture down beside the other photographs of various family members-cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents? She noted that there were none of Crystal McFarland.
She disengaged herself from thoughts about the family, glad she hadn’t known them, and began again with her task of measuring their drops of blood, computing angles, stringing trajectory lines. The work had such inherent tedium and required such focus, it was easy to keep her mind on the task and not try to analyze the data before all of it was in. But she did have a few ideas forming. An interview with Star would be good. Perhaps Frank would arrange it.
As she measured and computed in the quiet house, sounds subtly began to ease into her consciousness-the owl she’d heard earlier, the house settling. House settling — what did that mean exactly? What was actually settling? The wood framing? And why was it starting now?
She stopped a moment, as she often did when stray thoughts began intruding too far into her task. A straying mind makes mistakes. She put down her tools, stretched, and kneaded her tired shoulders. Her stomach growled, and she looked at her watch. Frank seemed to be taking his time. Probably buying several of everything so they could have a choice. She smiled at the memory of the stack of doughnuts he had brought to her apartment.
There it was again-a creaking, like one board rubbing against another. Now that she wasn’t making any noise, the settling sound was louder. She listened, wondering if all old houses make sounds. Creak. She walked around the bed to the doorway and listened. Nothing. Silly, she thought, mentally reminding herself that it had been Melissa in Andie’s office and not some intruder, and that she was apt to become crazy and paranoid if she didn’t watch herself.
She had started to pick up her measuring tools when she heard it again. From her vantage point by the door, it seemed to be coming from the stairs. It reminded her of the jump tales told around campfires-the ones where the ghost keeps saying: “I’m on the first step. . I’m on the second step. . ” Now she was being silly.
Of course, it could be Frank coming back and setting up in the kitchen or somewhere before he called to her. This is ridiculous, she thought. She headed for the stairs. From the top she peered down the stairway into the darkness. Hadn’t the lights been on downstairs?
“Frank?” she called out. No response. It wasn’t him. It was probably nothing. She turned to go back to work, determined to keep her mind on what she was doing. There it was again; another creaking sound. A hand clasped on her arm from behind.
Diane jumped instinctively and pulled away, but the hand stayed, the grip biting into her upper arm. She grabbed at the fingers as she was pulled and shoved, trying to turn around to see who it was. She was pushed forward through a doorway and fell on her shoulder, skidding on a rug across a hardwood floor, bumping her head on some piece of furniture. She saw the butcher knife looming over her before she saw the face of the person who held it.
“I’ll cut you with this. I will.”
Diane looked into the twisted face of a boy of about sixteen, his tangled brown hair falling into his eyes. His clothes looked as if he’d been living in a cave. They were wrinkled, dirty and covered with cobwebs.
“You’re Star’s boyfriend, aren’t you?” Diane found herself saying with more resolve than she felt.
“Shut up!”
She clutched the dresser she had landed next to and pulled herself to her feet. Her gaze darted around the room. Cedar bed and dresser, buck head mounted above the green-and-red plaid-covered bed, no personal items. The guest room? Had he been living here? No. It was too neat. Her mind was a whirl of questions and her head hurt.
He stood a few feet away. Holding the knife toward her. “I heard you and him talking. You want to pin this on me-me and Star.”
“No, that’s not true.”
He waved the knife. “Don’t lie. I heard you talking. I heard what he was saying.”
“What you heard was fear that maybe Star did it. You heard fear, not certainty. You heard when he talked about Star, he couldn’t even make a complete sentence. Frank loves Star. She’s the daughter of his best friend. He’s her guardian now, and he’s scared to death for her. If you were listening, you had to have heard that.” Diane thought she saw a subtle change in his features. “Do you know who did this?” she asked.
“I didn’t. Neither did Star.”
“Why, then, are you standing here holding a knife on me?”
“ ’Cause. . Look, shut up. You don’t know nothing.”
“Why don’t you tell me?” She heard the high-pitched sound of her phone ringing in the other room. “That’s my phone. He’ll expect me to answer it.”
“He’ll just think you went to the bathroom or turned it off.”
“At any rate, he’ll be back soon.”
“I know.” He paced back and forth between her and the door. “I got to think.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Don’t talk. I got to think.”
“What’s your name?”
“Look, what do I have to do to get you to shut up?”
“Why did you pull me in here? Why didn’t you just hide out until we left? You must want something.”
“I thought you were going to search the house, and I’d get you first. And maybe you have some money.”
“Okay, now that you have me first, what are you going to do?”
He took a couple of steps toward her. “I could get rid of you.”
“If you didn’t kill Star’s parents, why start now? Look, let me help you. What’s your name?”
“Dean! It’s Dean. Are you satisfied? Don’t you think I know you just want to turn me in?”
“Turning yourself in might not be a bad idea.”
“It sounds like a bad idea to me. You people are all alike. You have to have control, tell me what to do.”
“No. You have control over what you do. You make up your own mind. I’m just suggesting you do something that works. This isn’t working for you. Look at yourself in the mirror. Unless rheumy eyes and snot running out of your nose is a new fad like green hair and body piercing, you’re not doing that well. You’re hungry, you’re alone, the police are looking for you-it’s not working.”
He wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jacket. “Yeah, and just what do you think turning myself in will do?”
“It will be a start in solving this. It will look really good for you if your lawyer can say to the court that you turned yourself in because you’re innocent and want to help find out who killed your girlfriend’s parents.”
“Like they’re going to believe that. Besides, I can’t afford a lawyer. They’ll just give me one of those free ones that don’t know nothing.”
“Do you know how to make a silencer?”
He looked at Diane as if she were the one on drugs. “What? A silencer? Like a hit man uses? That metal thing you screw on your gun? No, I don’t know how to make one. How would I know how to make one of those?”
“How did you and Star get her grandfather’s coins?”
“Why are you asking me all these questions?”
“I want to help. Right now, that’s why the police are holding her. They think she took the coins after she killed her parents.”
“That’s a load of crap. She came back here and got them a couple of weeks ago. Been hanging on to them like they meant something.”
“Crystal McFarland told the police that the coins were in the house until the Boones were killed.”
“That’s a lie. How the fuck would she know anyway? Like Star’s father didn’t hate her worse than me.”
“Dean, why don’t you tell me everything? I’m trying to find out who killed Star’s family. Right now, I don’t believe it was Star or you. Won’t you put the knife down and talk to me?”
“I’ll hold on to the knife.”
“Make yourself look innocent. You think I’m going to jump you if you put it down?”
“No, but he will when he comes back.”
> “No, he won’t. Not if you don’t have a weapon. Look, if I know him, when he gets back he’ll have enough food for an army. We’ll all sit down in the dining room and talk.”
As if on cue, Diane heard a car door slam. Dean gripped his knife tighter and looked at her, wide-eyed.
Chapter 15
Diane held her breath as the door opened.
“Hey, I called. .”
“Frank, this is Dean. He’s going to eat with us and tell us about himself and Star. I hope you brought enough food.”
Frank stood in the front doorway, two large sacks of fast food in his arms, and stared at Diane and the teenager standing beside her.
“Hello, Dean,” he said, stepping inside and kicking the door closed behind him. “Shall we go into the dining room?”
The dining room, between the kitchen and foyer, was a bright yellow. Wilted parlor palms and peace lilies stood in the corners. Diane made a mental note to water them before she left. The round oak table had been dusted for fingerprints. She went into the kitchen to get something to use to wipe it off.
She stopped for a moment to look around. All the appliances, including the mixer, were pink. The floor was a checkerboard of black-and-white tiles. The countertops were a classic fifties design of squares with rounded corners and tiny antennae-the iconic symbol of the popular new and powerful innovation of the time, the television screen. Louise Boone had loved her home, she had loved to decorate it and loved to make it fun. Diane wet some paper towels, took some all-purpose squirt cleaner from under the sink and went to the dining room to remove the detritus left from collecting evidence of Louise’s murder.
They sat around the table and Frank pulled out the mounds of food he had brought back-cheeseburgers, corn dogs, chili-cheese pups, French fries, Cokes and a thermos full of coffee.
Dean downed four Krystal cheeseburgers and was on his second corn dog before he said anything. “We were in Atlanta when her parents were killed.”
“Is there anyone who will alibi you?” asked Frank.
“Not anyone the police would believe.”
“You said Star took the coins about two weeks ago,” said Diane. “Is there any proof of that?”
He threw a French fry on the table. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”
“That’s not it,” said Diane. “Star was arrested because of the coins. If we can show the police proof that she already had them, then we’ll have a better chance of getting her released.”
“And proving that McFarland bitch is a liar? I don’t know. We came in when her parents were gone. She knew where they kept them. Said they were hers anyway, for her education. What would be proof? It’s not like she signed them out.”
“Did anyone see them?”
“Are you kidding? To Star they were the family jewels. She hid them, and even I didn’t know where they were.” Dean kicked his chair legs as he talked and fidgeted in his seat. He grabbed hold of a Coke and drank down half of it. “Is it true they used to be made with real coke-you know, cocaine?”
“Early on, it was made with trace amounts of the coca leaf,” said Frank.
Dean giggled. “I wish they still made it that way.” He pushed on his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Do you have anything for a headache?” He wiped his nose with a napkin.
“I think I can probably find something,” said Frank. He left the table and came back in two or three minutes with a bottle of aspirin and gave Dean a couple.
“Man, I need more than that.”
“Start with that and I’ll give you some more later. Where have you and Star been living?”
“Different places. I got this cousin in Atlanta.”
“What’s his name?” Frank asked, picking up a chili-cheese pup and taking a bite.
“Her. Why do you want to know?”
“Anything we can get to verify where the two of you were, the better for you and Star,” said Diane.
“She’ll get all mad if I bring trouble to her. The only way she’d let us stay was if Star’d clean her house and take care of her baby.”
Diane raised an eyebrow and took a bite of her cheeseburger.
“And you,” said Frank. “How did you contribute?”
“I got odd jobs.”
“Were you there when Star’s parents were killed?”
He shook his head. “We’d moved on by then.”
“Where to? I thought you said you were in Atlanta?”
“Places. Around Atlanta. Why you asking so many questions? You’re just like Star’s parents. Always wanting to know our business.”
“You may know things you’re not even aware are important,” said Frank, pushing another cheeseburger in Dean’s direction. “Where did you and Star stay after you left your cousin’s?”
“We camped out some. That was fun.”
“How did the two of you eat? What were you living on?”
“Odd jobs. I told you.”
“What kind of odd jobs?”
“People pay for stuff. No big deal.”
Both Diane and Frank let that rest for now. “Why didn’t Star want to come home?” asked Frank.
“Her parents were too hard to get along with. They’d gotten into some kind of tough-love crap someone at their church was feeding them. They didn’t understand me or Star. Them folks think by calling something love, it’s good. They kicked Star out. I bet they didn’t tell you that.”
From the look on Frank’s face, Diane guessed Dean was right. That might account for their desperate attempt to lie about the bone in order to get the police to look for her-guilt and fear that their tough love might have driven her to her death.
“Tell me, Dean, do your parents have a pile of animal bones behind their house?” asked Diane.
“Lady, you ask the weirdest questions. Silencers and now bones. No, not that I know of, they don’t. What would Mom and Dad be doing with a pile of bones behind the house?”
“Why don’t you go back to your parents?” asked Diane.
“Dad’s always drinking and Mom’s always fussing and crying. They don’t want me back, and I don’t want to go back.”
“Dean, can you think of anyone that saw you about the time Star’s parents were killed?” asked Diane.
“I don’t know. I think we were with some friends in Cherokee County. They don’t want anything to do with the police.”
“They don’t have to get involved with the police. All they would have to do is say you were there,” said Frank.
“Trust me. They wouldn’t make a good alibi.”
“Dean. I have a son,” said Frank. “He has this dog-a lab who loves to play keep-away. She gets a stick, or one of her toys, and brings it to you. Just as you reach out to get it, she pulls it away and runs. I think you like that game too. I know you think you’re being pretty smart, keeping information from us while you get to scarf up our food, but it’s not smart. And you aren’t doing yourself a favor.”
“Look. These guys are probably gone. Anyway, they’d just say we weren’t there, and that’d be worse.”
“Do you know anyone who might have killed Star’s family?” asked Frank.
“No. I just know we didn’t. Star’s been going crazy, especially about her brother, Jay.” Dean took another drink of Coke and got another corn dog. “What are you two doing upstairs?”
“Looking for clues,” said Frank. “How did you get in the house?”
“The back way.”
“It’s locked.”
“Star showed me how to get in when we got the coins.”
“Show me,” said Frank.
“No. I told Star I wouldn’t tell anybody.”
“Look, son-” said Frank.
“I’m not your son. I’m not anybody’s son, so don’t you call me that.”
“OK, Dean. Let me take you down to the police station. We’ll tell them you want to clear your name.”
“So you’re going to turn me in anyway.”
“I know it does
n’t seem like it to you, but it would really be best if you went to the police yourself. They will find you eventually,” said Frank.
“Not unless you turn me in, they won’t. I’ve got friends.”
“No one has enough of that kind of friends. You’ve already said your friends won’t give you an alibi. Your own cousin made you work in order to stay at her place. You’ll just get into more and more trouble unless you start getting your life together now.”
“Look, it was nice of you guys to feed me and all, but. .” He jumped up from the table. “Gotta go. . ” he sang as he ran to the front door and threw it open.
“Hey, young fella, where you going in such a hurry?”
Diane had jumped up after Dean. Frank followed. A barrel-chested man in a Rosewood policeman’s uniform held Dean by the arm. “Drove by and saw some lights on. Thought something might be going on. Frank Duncan, what are you doing here?”
“I’m having Dr. Fallon take a look at the crime scene.”
“Is that a fact? This young fella here helping?”
“He was on his way to turn himself in,” said Frank.
“Was he now? In a bit of a hurry to do that, it seems. What’s he doing here?”
Frank shrugged. “Looking for some kind of help, I suppose. We’ve been having a late meal.” Frank pointed from the foyer into the dining room. “And he’s been telling us about where he’s been and how he’d like to clear all this up. Weren’t you, son?”
“Sure.”
“Well, then, we’ll go, and you can tell the detectives why you and your girlfriend were trying to sell her parents’ coin collection.”
Dean looked at Diane and Frank. Diane guessed he wasn’t sure whether or not to go along with what Frank had said or to protest. He looked at Diane again and she held his gaze, cocking an eyebrow, silently reminding him of the butcher knife and his attack on her. Dean’s shoulders sagged, and the policeman led him away without protest.
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