Tony lifted his chin and pulled one hand free to take the beer. He didn’t seem to notice that some of it ran out on the arm of the chair as he tried to sip it from his awkward position.
“Hey, pal, I gotta be honest. You look like shit.”
“Yeah, well, I feel like shit, so I guess it’s okay.”
Tony pushed his head back and legs out to assume a more natural sitting position. Doug was encouraged by his response, so he plunged forward.
“I guess you know how sorry I am about Lisa.”
“Don’t start, Doug. I’ve done all the crying in the past 24 hours that I can stand for a while.”
Doug didn’t know what to say, so he sat quietly sipping his beer, watching the profile of Tony staring into the wall above the TV. After a long time, Tony started talking. Doug was surprised at how familiar all the emotions sounded. He hadn’t suffered much tragedy in his life, but he recognized everything Tony said as if he had heard it all in a bad movie – the disbelief, the longing, the self-doubt, the anger.
“I should have been there!” Tony practically shouted, and then retracted into his chair stuttering through his sobs. “I should have been there on time.”
“Hey, hey.” Doug leaned in close to his friend, laid his hand on his shoulder, and spoke softly. “Don’t you start down that road. This was not your fault. Lisa screwed up and now she’s dead. It’s as simple as that. It doesn’t make it easy, or right, or even understandable. But it is simple and it’s not your fault. You have to remember that.”
Tony wiped his face on his T-shirt and turned slowly toward Doug. “Nice words,” he said in an almost icy tone. “But whether you like it or not, the fact is that I was late and that may have made the difference.”
Again Doug was without words, and the silence hung between them like a dark curtain. By the time Tony spoke again, Doug had to retrace the conversation in his mind to remember the context of his question.
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Tony asked.
“Believe what?” Doug was struggling to remember.
“That this was simple,” Tony said pointedly. He stared into Doug’s eyes as he continued. “You really believe that a girl as bright as Lisa just pulled her car into a corncrib, closed all the doors, and left the motor running. Then as the car filled with fumes she just allowed herself to pass out and die.”
“Tony, it happens,” Doug said a little too strenuously, worried about where his friend was headed with this. Maybe she thought since the bin was empty, enough air would flow through it to carry away the fumes.
“Well, just so you know, Sherlock, I don’t see it that way and neither do the DCI boys.”
Doug was taken aback. “The DCI? Really? You’ve talked to Rich or someone?”
“Talked to them?” A smile actually crossed Tony’s face briefly. “You obviously haven’t had a girlfriend die recently. Those guys put a rod up my ass and roasted me over the fire for about three hours this morning.”
“You gotta be shittin’ me,” Doug responded. “They can’t think you had something to do with this.”
Tony was back to a blank stare. “Oh they can, they can. Don’t you know, my friend, when a young woman buys it, the boyfriend is always the first suspect. Of course it didn’t help that I was the one who found her and called it in.”
“But these guys know you. Hell, they owe you.”
“Yeah, that may save my ass, but they still have to go through the motions.”
“So they’ve got nothing, right?”
“You asking as a friend or a competitor?”
Doug was hurt by the question, but as he glanced at Tony, he saw the glimmer of a smile. Tony went on, confirming that it was a feeble attempt at humor.
“Apparently Lisa had a nasty bruise on the side of her head. She could have gotten it when she passed out and fell forward onto the shift lever, but it also could indicate something more.”
Once again, Doug didn’t know what to say, and once again Tony rescued him by going on. “That’s probably my best indication that they don’t really think me a suspect. As close as Davis and I are, he would never have told me about the bruise if he was planning to charge me with something. I think he could tell how I felt about her.”
Another pause and the sobs welled up again as Tony cried, “What a fucking stupid thing to say.”
Tony almost never used the ‘F’ word. It surprised Doug but he kept his silence.
“How could my friends in the DCI discern, through all of this crap even I don’t understand, how I felt about Lisa?” Tony was on his feet now, bumping the coffee table as he walked around to the back of the chair. He started to wipe his face again with his t-shirt and then came completely unglued. As Tony sunk to his knees, pressed against the back of the chair and bawling like a baby, Doug could just make out his words.
“Even Lisa didn’t know how I felt about Lisa. She didn’t understand what she meant to me. I never told her I…how I felt. And now it’s too late.”
Doug set his beer on the arm of the couch and lowered himself to the floor. He put his arms around his friend and held him for a very long time.
***
Much later, as the two men sat, somewhat embarrassed, back on their respective pieces of furniture, Doug was startled when Tony suddenly said in a clear voice, “There’s more.”
“What do you mean, more?”
“There’s more to the story. Haven’t you wondered why Lisa was out there, out at Harvey’s place?”
“Sure, but I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. And besides, I just figured it was somewhere the two of you went to meet. I don’t want to offend you or your memory of Lisa, but my take was that she was the adventurous type. I wouldn’t put it past her to meet you in a corncrib for a little…shall we say, dance? Just for the fun of it.”
“You surprise me, Sherlock. That’s quite perceptive about Lisa. As a matter of fact, we had been there before. But before you go apply for one of those DCI jobs, I might as well tell you, you’re dead wrong about last night.”
Tony then told Doug all about Lisa’s telephone call and her extreme agitation. The fact was, she was scared shitless, and he had let her down. Tony was crying again, but this time Doug better understood the overwhelming sense of guilt his friend was feeling.
“So what did the DCI have to say about all of this?” Doug asked.
“I didn’t tell them,” Tony replied, almost off-handedly.
“You what! Are you nuts?”
Tony spoke very deliberately, again looking right into Doug’s eyes. “Think about it, Doug. In a situation like this, if I tell the DCI about the frantic phone call and Lisa’s plea for help, what does it sound like?”
Doug had to admit it. “It sounds like you’re one of those idiots who does something stupid like loses his head, kills his girlfriend, and then makes up a story to cover his ass.”
“Exactly. And I’m not planning to tell the DCI something that makes me look guilty, even if it is the truth. At least I’m not telling while they’re still investigating. If they try to close the case, I might come forward to spark a little interest. Not too many murderers go out of their way to keep a case open. And another thing, how the hell do you think it would make Lisa’s dad feel if everyone knew she was frightened but didn’t go to him?” What went unspoken was the obvious: how Tony would feel if everyone knew Lisa had called for help and he hadn’t responded right away.
Doug could see the logic in Tony’s approach, but it still made him uneasy to hold back information from the DCI.
“One other thing I didn’t tell them,” Tony abruptly added.
“Oh?”
“The time Lisa and I went to Harvey’s to park?”
“Yes?”
“Lisa wouldn’t let me shut the doors to the corncrib while I had the engine running. She said it was too dangerous.”
***
Hours later, as Tony was rinsing out their eight or ten empty beer cans, he thought
about what a good friend he had. He would have refused to talk to anyone this afternoon if Doug hadn’t forced his way in. And Doug had just the right…how could he phrase it? The word karma came to mind, but Tony dismissed it as too ridiculous. He didn’t know what it was, but he was glad his friend had it.
Tony was still numb with grief, but thanks to Doug, he had learned quickly that life wasn’t just going to end for everyone else the way it had for Lisa. He still had to interact with the world.
As he climbed into bed, Tony was almost ashamed that his thoughts were of the incident itself. He realized he was analyzing it as he would any crime he was assigned to cover. Of course, he wouldn’t be assigned to cover it. Even at a paper as small as the Crier, they didn’t assign a reporter to a story in which the reporter’s name was all over the police reports. He would be interested to see how Ben handled it in the morning edition. That’s sick, he thought, to even be thinking about this as a news story.
He began to cry softly into his pillow, thinking about their laughs together, their spats, their lovemaking. He could hear her soft voice in his ear, talking silly, talking sexy, and even giving him advice. He tried to fight it, but he couldn’t help thinking about the night they had talked about the Wells case, and the advice she had given. What motive could someone possibly have? Who could benefit from the death of such a lovely, warm, engaging…
Goddammit. He was sobbing again. He thought about her father and then remembered a piece of his conversation with Doug earlier. Why hadn’t Lisa called her father? She practically worshipped him and he would have mobilized the National Guard to protect her. And considering the number of friends he had in the county, he could have done it too.
Sleep overcame him before he could attempt to answer any of the questions.
***
The funeral was mostly a nuisance in Tony’s mind. Doug was kind enough to take another day off work to accompany him, but it wasn’t necessary. It was another hot day, and the Lutheran pastor was too stingy to adequately cool the church, even for the standing room only crowd. Tony went through the motions with limited actual involvement. It was almost as if he was an android, programmed to play the role but not really be there.
Tony had always believed in God. But now…now if there is a God, Tony feared he had harmed Lisa somehow in His eyes by having sex with her outside of marriage. Surely, a just God would reward her for her kindness and love and not punish her for the things she had done for him.
He had no idea how Lisa’s dad would treat him at the funeral. Even after all these months, Tony had not made any real attempt to be close to him. Despite Lisa’s assurances that her dad liked him, it had always felt awkward. Tony had been welcome in their home, but seldom had taken advantage of their invitations. In light of Tony’s role in her death or because Tony had failed her, he was prepared to accept that her father would resent him, even hate him.
In the church, Tony selected the fourth pew, close enough to demonstrate he was more than an idle spectator, but respectful of her actual family’s place at the front.
However, Mr. Freed surprised him. When he saw Tony in the fourth pew, he came out of his own front row seat, and with a simple gesture insisted that Tony join the family. It was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for him, Tony realized, crying as he took his new seat.
Not a word passed between them until later, after the graveside service was finished. As he walked to his car, he heard Freed’s voice at his right, soft and very close. He looked over and saw that Lisa’s father was looking straight ahead, so Tony did likewise.
“Two things, Tony.”
“Yes sir?”
“Well, make it three things. First of all, don’t call me sir. My name is Nathan and my friends call me Nate. For you it always will be Nate. Secondly, the DCI came to see me today.”
Tony immediately tensed and hoped Lisa’s dad wouldn’t sense it to no avail.
“Relax, son. I told them the same thing I’m going to tell you. I know you would not and did not hurt Lisa, and I in no way hold you responsible.”
Tony was genuinely moved. He said, “That means a great deal to me, sir…uh, Nate. But just so you know, I don’t just feel responsible, I am responsible. I should have been there sooner. I let her down and I never will forgive myself for that.”
Freed waived a hand, attempting to cut him off. Through clenched teeth he said, “I do not want to talk about it. Absolutely nothing good can come from you or I or anyone else second guessing what happened or wishing someone had done something differently.”
“That’s what everyone keeps saying but…”
“Then listen to them,” he said forcefully, turning to face Tony. “Don’t let a second young life be ruined over this.”
He turned and resumed his walk up the grassy hill to the white crushed rock cemetery road. Tony had to scurry a couple of steps to resume his place at his side.
A few more steps and Tony asked, “You said there was a third thing, sir?”
“Well…yes. I’m not a man who likes to ask favors. I’m not ashamed to tell you I’ve spent most of my life doing favors for others.”
“Well, it has paid off, sir. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t like and respect you.”
“You really must stop calling me sir,” Freed replied, almost smiling. “The point is, I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Anything.”
“I want you to write about her.”
“Sir?”
“You’re a fine writer, Tony. I would like people to know her the way you and I knew her, bright and funny and thoughtful and full of life. I know it’s a cardinal sin to try to tell a reporter what to put into his paper, but I would very much appreciate it if you would find a way to pay tribute to her there, where everyone could see it.”
“Well, I, uh…”
Freed interjected, “Also, Tony, you must be aware that some are trying to call Lisa’s death a suicide. You and I know that’s simply not possible. I want everyone else to know that too.”
Tony didn’t know what to say. This was too sudden. He hadn’t even been back to work yet. He hadn’t even sorted out his feelings. He felt exhausted from the emotional battle that had been raging for the past three days. How could he? How could he not?
“Of course, sir. I would be honored to try. But you must understand at this point, it’s just a try. I honestly don’t know if I can do it.”
Freed stopped and again turned to face Tony. This time he was smiling. “I know,” he said simply, and walked off toward the hearse at the front of the long line of cars.
My God, Tony thought. No wonder she was extraordinary. As he dropped into the seat of his car, another wave of grief washed over him. Doug was already waiting in the passenger seat.
“You okay?”
“No,” Tony said, burying his face and crying into his arms which were folded over the steering wheel in front of him.
Governor Assures Supporters of Victory
Claims “No Worries” Over Nelson’s Rise in Polls
Ben Smalley, Editor
ORNEY, Iowa – Governor Harris “Harry” Roskins spoke confidently of his re-election in November as he addressed an enthusiastic crowd of supporters in the Orney town square Sunday evening. He discussed his opponent’s recent rise in the polls as nothing more than the “natural bump” that occurs after Labor Day, when the political ads and activities go into “full gear.”
The governor said he was certain Iowans would return him to office for a fourth term.
“We’ve worked hard for you,” the governor told the crowd of about 2,000 people gathered for an old-fashioned potluck dinner in his honor. “We’ve cut taxes, increased our investments in alternative fuels production, and attracted an unprecedented number of high quality jobs to Iowa. Now is not the time to change direction.”
It was the ninth night in a row of major events around the state for the governor, who insiders say loves to campaign.
Longtime aide Jimmy Fr
eestone commented, “The man is tireless. He seems to gather energy throughout the day rather than expend it. I’ve never seen him work harder than he is right now.”
A small crowd of protesters gathered across the street from the park as the governor spoke. Most held signs decrying his tax cuts for the rich and claiming the poor and middle class were suffering under his administration’s policies.
One young woman held a sign saying “No More Dirty Harry.” Asked if she was surprised the governor was campaigning in Orney, the woman said, “No. You’ve seen the polls. Despite his fancy words, he’s afraid he’s going to lose. And he needs to be afraid. He can speak in every town in Iowa and it won’t get him past the facts.”
Governor Roskins first was elected…
Chapter 20
Tony read through Ben’s article and the rest of the Crier without much interest. It was late, almost midnight, and everyone from the newsroom had gone home except him. He was tipped back in his desk chair reading, primarily to avoid going home to an empty house.
It was nearly two months since Lisa’s death, but it still felt like yesterday. He had been working nearly every night since returning to his job, finding it was easier to stay occupied at night and to be alone during the day. At least during the day he could take a hike through the river valley, jog, go to the library, or talk his way into the high school to borrow a piano in a practice room and spend some time at the keys. Ben and the other newsroom staff certainly didn’t mind the extra help in the evenings, and Tony was still happy to take daytime assignments as needed. The little respite he ever found from his grief came when he became absorbed in a good story.
Ben had been amazingly tolerant of his moodiness and had even urged him to return to work at whatever pace he liked. Because Tony had been jogging more and eating very little, he found he was in the best physical shape he’d ever been. He found no consolation in it.
Tony’s parents and sister had been to Orney to visit him almost every weekend since the funeral. He knew his parents were worried he was falling into a true clinical depression and concerned he might do something unspeakable. On their third visit, Tony spoke about it.
Burying the Lede Page 18
