Dark Hearts

by Sharon Sala

  “What the fuck do you want?” Marcus asked.

  “We need you to get dressed and come down to the station with us to answer some questions.”

  The shock on Marcus’s face was clear as he jumped up and walked away, mumbling about disrespect.

  Sam took hold of the man’s arm and turned him around to face them.

  “Did you hear my brother ask you to get dressed?” he said softly.

  Marcus began to bluster. “I don’t have to—”

  Sam yanked his arm just enough to unsettle his stance. Marcus staggered and would have fallen but for the firm grip Sam had on him.

  “Yes, you do have to,” Sam said. “Do you want me to yank those pajamas off your ass for you, or are you going to do it?”

  Marcus began to realize they were serious. “I wanna call my lawyer,” he said.

  “You haven’t been charged with anything,” Trey said. “Did you expect to be? Is that why you’re drunk...because you knew you were going to jail?”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Marcus mumbled.

  “Then, come down to the precinct so we can clear this up,” Trey said.

  Marcus thought about it, but he thought too long.

  “Forget about his clothes, Trey. Just get a coat and we’ll take him down in pajamas. That will look good in the morning paper.”

  Marcus’s bravado died where he stood. Appearance was everything, and he couldn’t let himself be humiliated that way.

  “I’m changing,” he said and stumbled into his walk-in closet.

  Sam followed.

  “I don’t need an audience,” Marcus said.

  “You have one anyway,” Sam said. “Hurry up.”

  Marcus stumbled all over the closet before he got himself decent, and when they started down the hall he was barely able to pick up his feet.

  The sprinkles of rain had turned into a steady drizzle. Trey put Marcus in the backseat, and Sam slid in beside him. Despite the chilly weather, Marcus was sweating profusely and eyeing Sam with growing horror.

  “I don’t understand what this is all about,” he said.

  “Sure you do,” Sam said.

  Marcus wiped a shaky hand across his face and didn’t utter another word.

  They took him in through the front door because Trey wanted the man to be seen and to worry about being seen. They needed him as unsettled as possible, and they needed him sober. They didn’t want a lawyer to come back on them later and accuse them of leading an inebriated man to confess to something he hadn’t done. The wait for Sheriff Osmond should take care of that very conveniently.

  Avery Jones’ eyes widened perceptibly and his mouth dropped open when he saw who they had brought in, but he quickly looked away.

  Trey walked Marcus all the way through the police station to the interrogation room at the back next to the jail.

  “Have a seat,” Trey said, and turned to leave.

  “Wait! What’s going on? I thought you said you wanted to talk.”

  “Well, yes, we do, but I’m waiting on Sheriff Osmond to get here. Since we’re both working the case, we’ve been sharing information. It’s just simpler for him to hear you give your statement, and then we’ll be done.”

  Marcus shrugged.

  “I’m going to bring you some coffee,” Sam said. “I suggest you drink it. It would be to your advantage to be sober when this begins.”

  Marcus paled and started to shake as Sam left the room.

  Sam returned a few minutes later with two large cups of hot coffee and put them both down in front of Marcus. “Knock yourself out,” he said and shut the door firmly as he left.

  Marcus reached for the first cup with a shaking hand and took a sip. Tears were running down his face, and the knot of fear in his gut was growing bigger by the moment.

  Sam paused outside in the hall to look at Marcus through the one-way glass. “He’s gonna lose it,” he said.

  “It can’t happen soon enough for me,” Trey replied.

  * * *

  It took another forty-five minutes for Sheriff Osmond to get there, but he came in the door smiling. “Do you really think you’ve got our man?” he asked.

  “What I know is that I have a very strong, very reliable witness who can speak to motive and who knows where that five hundred came from, and I’ll bet if we run a bluff, it will send Marcus over the edge,” Trey said.

  “So let’s do this before he lawyers up. Is he sober enough?”

  “He’s had about two quarts of coffee and I imagine he needs to take a piss,” Sam said.

  “Then, let’s go make him a little more uncomfortable. I’m going to stay quiet while Silver gives his statement,” Sheriff Osmond said. “I think having Betsy Jakes’ sons take the lead will be pressure enough.” Then he followed the Jakes brothers down the hall.

  * * *

  After Sam texted to tell Lainey he wasn’t coming home at noon, she shifted her focus to other things. She had already decided to call the university and get someone to take her classes tomorrow, and once she told them what had happened they were understanding. They wished her a speedy recovery and told her to let them know when she was ready to return.

  She puttered around the house with another cup of hot chocolate in hand, then added a couple of cookies and called it lunch. She was folding laundry when she noticed the box of her mother’s diaries she’d brought down from the attic. After the laundry was put up she went back to the box and picked through some of them. Reading the entries was poignant, but also fun. It was like visiting with her mother again.

  She brought a couple of diaries with her to the sofa, covered up beneath a blanket and opened up the one that began after her mother had graduated high school and begun dating the young man who would eventually become Lainey’s father.

  It had been a long time since she’d looked through this one, and when she ran across a handful of pictures slipped in between the months of September and October of 1980, she started to set them aside until two names jumped out at her.

  There were three pictures that appeared to have been taken out in the high school parking lot right after the graduation ceremony. Nearly all the people in the photos were either still wearing their caps and gowns or had them over their arms.

  The pictures were joyous, capturing the elation of young men and women on the verge of becoming adults. Her mother had made notations of who was who with the same code she had used in the diaries.

  There was one of a girl kissing a boy and another that was a group shot of good friends with several sets of parents. And the last one was a very clear view of two boys driving out of the parking lot together. Lainey grinned when she saw it, thinking that her mother must have been standing directly in front of the car to get that shot. Both boys looked startled to see her standing in the way, and the driver was glaring and waving at her to move out of the way.

  She laughed. Then she saw the notation.

  Silver Spoon in his daddy’s car and Tom Collins riding shotgun.

  She stared at it for a long moment in disbelief. Silver Spoon was an obvious reference to the richest boy in school, the one who’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. And there was Tom Collins again. She didn’t remember what Donny Collins looked like, but if Sam and Trey had just brought Marcus Silver in for questioning, this might be really important. She started to give Sam a call, and then remembered they were most likely interrogating Marcus Silver, something she didn’t want to interrupt. And they needed to see what she’d found, not just hear about it. Despite her ankle, she had to take it to the precinct while the man was still being questioned.

  She got a coat and her purse and headed out the door with the photo, hobbling as she went. It wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done, but it wasn’t going to kill her.


  As she started up the drive, she reached down to turn on the windshield wipers, and when she looked up she was facing toward the pasture and the big mound of fresh dirt. She looked away quickly. Life had taught her some hard lessons, but her rule of thumb was that if she survived it, then it was over.

  The urge to speed was strong as she drove toward Mystic. Just like when she’d found the story about the cheating scandal in her mother’s diaries, she had the feeling of anticipation that something her mother had done was going to be crucial to solving these crimes.

  * * *

  Marcus had a roaring headache, but he was mostly sober. When the door to the interrogation room opened, he jumped to his feet.

  “I need to use the restroom,” he said.

  “After we’re finished,” Trey said. “Please sit down.”

  Marcus was stunned, and it showed. He was used to his every whim being catered to, and the simple act of refusing him a trip to the bathroom seemed preposterous.

  “Now, see here, I—”

  Sam pushed him down in the chair and kept a hand on his shoulder until he grew quiet.

  “Is there anything you would like to tell us?” Trey asked.

  “How about that there is a very likely possibility that you people will lose your jobs over this?” Marcus snapped.

  “We had a witness come forward today in regard to the cheating scandal,” Trey said.

  Marcus’s belligerence settled into sarcasm. “I don’t see what some high school prank has to do with any of this,” he said.

  “Don’t play stupid. It was important enough for someone to murder three people,” Sam said.

  Marcus blanched. “I had nothing to do with that.”

  “That remains to be seen. According to my witness, you gave her five hundred dollars for the answers to an exam. The grade on that test was the tipping point between valedictorian and salutatorian, not to mention the deciding factor on who won a scholarship, only she didn’t know that,” Trey said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I keep telling you people I didn’t need that scholarship money.”

  “No, but you needed the honor and glory that went with it, didn’t you?” Sam said. “We saw those paintings on the wall in your library. I’ll bet Daddy was a stickler for perfection? Am I right?”

  Marcus glared.

  “Look, we already know you cheated. All we want to know is, did Donny Collins know it, too?” Sam asked.

  Marcus frowned. “He didn’t know anything. He—” All of a sudden he realized he had admitted to the cheating with that slip of the tongue and stopped in midsentence.

  Sam smiled. “That’s better. Doesn’t it feel good to get rid of that little burden? Hell, Marcus, it was just a test. Like you said, it happened a long time ago. It’s over and done with, right?”

  Marcus didn’t look up.

  Sam looked at Trey and grinned.

  Sam pulled a chair up to the interrogation table, sat and then leaned forward. “Was your father abusive?” he asked.

  Marcus shifted in the chair. “I still need to pee,” he said.

  “In a few minutes,” Trey said. “Answer the question.”

  “I guess you could say he was, but that doesn’t mean I did something wrong,” Marcus mumbled.

  “I didn’t say you did what you did because you were afraid of your father. I didn’t say why you paid Beth Bradford to cheat. She told us she didn’t know why you did it, either. But she needed money, and she got you the answers to the test because she was Mrs. Henry’s aide, and you gave her five hundred dollars, right?”

  Marcus wiped his face with both hands.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Trey said. “She’ll testify in court to all of it, including her part in it.”

  “No one will believe a word of it,” Marcus blustered. “I am a valued member of the community.”

  “Back then you were just a senior in high school,” Trey said. “Kids are always making mistakes. No doubt people assume you made some, too.”

  “I need to pee,” Marcus said.

  “I need the truth,” Trey said.

  Marcus moaned. “Oh...hell. Yes, I paid to get the answers. I didn’t want to listen to my dad shout at me for not having a perfect score. It’s no big deal. It’s over and done. Now can I pee?”

  “So how did Donny Collins take it when he found out?” Sam asked.

  “I told you. He didn’t know. No one knew.”

  “That’s not the truth, and you know it,” Sam said. “Beth knew. She’s the one who gave you the answers. And Beth was dating Donny, wasn’t she?”

  Marcus’s eyes widened. “I don’t know.”

  “Oh, sure you do,” Trey said. “Every teenager knows who’s hooking up in high school.”

  “So you paid Beth five hundred dollars,” Sam said.

  Marcus shrugged. “I guess. I don’t remember the exact amount. What does it matter?”

  Sam put his hand on the table in front of Marcus, then marked off every word he spoke with a tap of his finger.

  “There was five hundred dollars cash in the wallet we found with the body we pulled out of the Colquitt Mine. The driver’s license in that wallet belonged to Donny Collins. That five hundred dollars was what you paid Beth for the answers. Isn’t it something, how one thing leads to another, then backward and forward again and ties itself up in this neat little bow?”

  The scent of urine suddenly filled the air.

  “Well, well,” Sam said. “I think you just pissed yourself out of a trip to the john. Now we can get down to business.”

  Marcus moaned.

  “I didn’t do anything to Donny Collins. I didn’t hang out with him. I was not his friend. I would have had no earthly reason to be anywhere in his company. I don’t know what you’re talking about. I think I want—”

  Before he could finish there was a knock at the door.

  Trey frowned. “I told Avery not to bother us,” he said, and then went to the door.

  Avery was standing in the hall with Lainey Pickett at his side.

  “I know you said not to bother you, but I think you need to see this, Chief.”

  Seventeen

  Lainey handed Trey the photo. He looked at it, grinned and then yelled at his brother from the hall.

  “Hey, Sam, could you come out here a minute?”

  Sam was stunned to see Lainey in the hall.

  “Lainey, honey, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “I was reading more of Mom’s diaries when I came across that picture.” She pointed to the photo Trey was holding. “It was one of several my mother took after the graduation ceremony. Look at what she wrote. The passenger is Tom Collins and the driver is Silver Spoon. That has to be Marcus Silver. He looks just like T.J. looks now.”

  Trey was grinning as he handed Sam the picture.

  “Just see what your pretty lady did. This certainly refutes Marcus’s claim that he didn’t hang out with Donny Collins.”

  “So that is Donny Collins?” Lainey asked.

  “Yes, and you’re right that it’s Marcus driving,” Sam said, then hugged her. “Your mother was amazing, and so are you.”

  She smiled.

  “We’ve got to get back inside,” Sam said. “This might be the tipping point.”

  “Is Trina still in ICU?” Lainey asked.

  “No. They moved her into a private room. The guard is still there, and I think Lee is, too. He was when I was there this morning.”

  “Would it be okay if I dropped by before I went back home?”

  Sam frowned. “Are you okay moving around that much?”

  “I won’t be there long.”

  “If you feel like it, then by a
ll means it’s okay. You’re part of the family. Besides, your name is on the list. Just be careful, okay?”

  She nodded.

  Sam bent down and kissed her quickly, then hurried back inside the interrogation room with Trey.

  Lainey felt good. Yet another bit of history that was helping them make their case.

  * * *

  All the way home from church, T.J. thought about his father, hoping he’d ended his drinking binge before he passed out on the floor. The drizzle was turning into rain as he parked beneath the portico and went in through the French doors that led straight to the library.

  The scent of roast beef wafted through the hall as he headed for the stairs. He hoped Cook had made something good for dessert. He was in the mood for sweets.

  His foot was on the bottom step when the maid came running toward him from the back of the house.

  “Mr. T.J., Mr. T.J., your father isn’t here.”

  T.J. frowned. “His car is out front.”

  “Chief Jakes and his brother came this morning. They took your father with them when they left.”

  T.J.’s heart skipped a beat. “Why?”

  “I didn’t know. And I don’t know what to do.”

  “Christ almighty! You could have called me.”

  She ruffled like a pissed-off hen full of righteous indignation. “Your number has never been made available to the staff, sir.”

  He flushed. It was true. He considered the running of the house his father’s business.

  “So what can you tell me?” he asked.

  “He left the house in disarray,” she said.

  T.J. frowned.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, he was not his usual dapper self.”

  T.J. stifled a moan. “Had he still been drinking?”

  She nodded.

  “Was he drunk?”

  “I would guess so.”

  “Son of a bitch,” T.J. muttered, and headed back out the way he’d come in.

  * * *

  The scent of urine was ripe inside the interrogation room, and Marcus Silver was in extreme discomfort and horrified it had happened. He looked everywhere but at the sheriff still in the room with him.