Play of Light

by Debra Doxer

  My gaze moved between them. It wasn’t a secret. I would have told everyone eventually. “I want them to look into my father’s murder again.”

  Riley blinked in surprise, but Colby looked uncomfortable. “You want to go right now?”

  I nodded.

  “Maybe we could get some breakfast first. I’m starving,” he said.

  Riley squinted at him. “We already ate breakfast.”

  His jaw clenched uncharacteristically. Then he glanced away, scratching his cheek.

  Putting a hand on his arm, Riley drew his attention back. “Babe, what is it?”

  He looked at Riley before eyeing me like there was something he didn’t want to say. Then he shook his head slightly, as if he was giving in against his better judgment. “That’s where Spencer’s headed now. He didn’t tell you because he didn’t want you to worry. I’m guessing you didn’t tell him you were going either.”

  “When did he decide this?” I asked, my pulse starting to race.

  Colby shrugged. “He told me this morning.”

  I turned to Riley, realizing that both Spencer and I had the same thought and we’d both kept it to ourselves. That was why he didn’t bring it up to me again. Not because I’d changed his mind, but because I hadn’t.

  “We have to go there. He wouldn’t even be doing this if it wasn’t for me. He shouldn’t be there alone.”

  Riley seemed confused. “Why would Spencer go to the police station?”

  Colby shifted and picked up his keys. The fact that he’d told me at all said he understood my concern. I knew then that Spencer must have told him everything. “It couldn’t hurt to go down there,” he said, then put his hand on my shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. Nothing is going to happen to him. They won’t touch him inside their own station.”

  I nodded gratefully, wanting to believe him.

  Riley bit her lip. “What are you two talking about?”

  Apparently she and Colby had some secrets after all. On the way down to Colby’s Jeep, I explained the last piece of information she didn’t have. She didn’t know about the bribes or that Spencer often delivered them.

  As I spoke, my hands were clenched into fists. Why hadn’t Spencer told me he was going this morning? Colby said he didn’t want me to worry, but I should have known better. He’d dropped the subject so easily. I should have anticipated he’d do something like this.

  The South Seaport police station was a single-story wood-shingled house that was converted back in the seventies. When we pulled up to the station, Spencer’s van was there in the parking lot. Colby parked next to it, and we all walked into the tiny vestibule entrance. Just inside was a glass partition with a square cutout. Behind it was a woman sitting at a desk. She looked up and studied us for a moment before asking, “Can I help you?”

  I stepped up to the window. “I’d like to talk to the chief. My father used to be a police officer here, Sam Walsh. He was killed five years ago.”

  Her stern expression softened. “I remember your father. Sit down . . .”

  “Sarah,” I told her.

  “Sit down, Sarah. He’s with someone right now, but you can wait.”

  The chief was probably with Spencer. I felt slightly better knowing Spencer was nearby, that he wasn’t here alone anymore. And as much as I wanted to walk in there to make sure he was okay, I sat down quietly.

  The woman behind the desk smiled at us and drank from a coffee mug. The station was quiet. There didn’t appear to be any reason to cause a scene by trying to barge in there. On the way here, Riley reasoned that it had all happened so long ago, they’d probably send Spencer away and pretend not to know what he was talking about. If they did that, I wondered how he would react.

  Twenty minutes later, I was pacing the small room, driving Riley and Colby crazy. Colby was still quoting Anchorman, trying to lighten the mood, but I could tell he was annoying Riley too. She’d finally asked him to stop when the door opened and Spencer walked out.

  He froze when he spotted us, letting the door swing shut behind him.

  I jumped up from my seat. “Are you okay?”

  He blinked as if he couldn’t believe I was there. Then he gave Colby a menacing look.

  Colby’s hands went up in a helpless gesture.

  Dressed in cargo shorts and a red T-shirt, Spencer looked tired. His hair was tousled as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and his eyes were weary.

  “You should have told me you were coming here,” I said.

  The woman behind the glass stood up and looked at me. “Chief Hanson will see you now.”

  Spencer’s gaze darted between us. “Tell her you need five minutes. Then meet me outside,” he said in a low voice before walking out the door.

  Colby, Riley, and I all looked at each other. “I’m sorry,” I told the woman, “but I need a few minutes. I’ll be right back.”

  I practically ran out after him with Riley and Colby on my heels. Spencer was standing by the van with his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “I didn’t want them to see us together. I don’t want them to associate you with me.” He rubbed a hand down his scruffy cheek. “Did Colby tell you I was here?”

  I nodded. “Reluctantly. After I’d already told him I was coming here today too.”

  “Look, Sarah. Why don’t you come back another time instead?” His voice sounded strained. He was vibrating with tension. All I wanted to do was wrap my arms around him, but his posture was tight, silently telling me to keep my distance.

  “It’s too late,” I said. “The chief already knows I’m here, and the receptionist knew my father. She knows who I am.”

  His lips pressed together into a thin line.

  “Why did you come today? I thought we decided you wouldn’t.”

  “I never said that.” Pulling his hands from his pockets, he leaned toward me. “You said it would be enough for you to just tell your side, but you were lying to me. I could hear it in your voice. It wouldn’t be enough.”

  I started to argue, but he held up his hand.

  “It wouldn’t be enough for me either,” he said. “I needed to tell the police what I know as much as you do.”

  I reached for his hand and he let me take it. “Why?” I asked.

  “To finally be free of him.” His expression turned stormy. “How can I be free while I’m still keeping his fucking secrets?”

  The flash of pain in his eyes sliced through me. I whispered his name.

  Spencer took his hand back. “God, Sarah, don’t look at me that way.”

  He thought I was pitying him again, just like he had when we were kids, but his pulling back from me stung, the same way it used to.

  “You still don’t get it,” I said. “When you hurt, I hurt. Because I love you, and I’m so sorry my coming back here is making you go through all this again.”

  He looked at me, surprised. “I’m not sorry you came back. Do you have any idea how much I admire you, coming here all alone to face your fears and get justice for your father? How can I claim to be any of these things,” he held up his tattooed forearms, “if I can’t do the same?”

  The look on his face was too familiar. It was the heartbreaking one he’d worn at the dunes so many times. No matter what Spencer thought about needing to be free of his uncle, it appeared that what he’d done today had only made him feel worse.

  “Do you think the chief listened to you?” I asked.

  He glanced back toward the station. “I think so, but I don’t know. He didn’t give much away. It will be my word against all of theirs if he pursues it. But I laid it out for him. That’s all I could do.”

  I erased the space he’d put between us and leaned against him, resting my cheek on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you,” I said. I felt his arms wrap around me, and wondered if talking about that night would affect me the same way it had Spencer. Reliving it all, making accusations that no one wanted to hear, the thought of
it was terrifying.

  After a moment, I stepped back and shot him a small smile. “My turn.”

  “Are you sure?” His hands tightened on my shoulders.

  I nodded.

  He gave me a concerned look and then a nod of acceptance before releasing me. “You’ll be fine. Chief Hanson seems like a decent guy. Don’t worry, okay?”

  I told him I wouldn’t, and we both knew it was a fib. When I turned to leave, Colby and Riley looked hesitant, unsure of who to go with. “Someone should stay with him,” I whispered to them. Spencer was too upset to be alone.

  Nodding his understanding, Colby handed Riley his keys. Then he jogged back, and I could already hear him making up an excuse to tag along with Spencer.

  Chief Gregory Hanson was his name. That was all I knew about him. The woman behind the glass pointed toward the door and said, “He’ll see you now. First office on the right.”

  I knew where it was. It was the same office the old chief had occupied. Riley gave me an encouraging smile as she sat down to wait for me. I’d already told her, but I hoped she understood how much I appreciated her staying.

  I didn’t look up when I passed through the door. I already knew I was walking through an open room that held the desks of all the officers in the precinct. Dad used to sit in the back corner, near the water cooler, but I only used my peripheral vision to glance at it. I didn’t know if Russ was here or anyone else I might know, and I didn’t want to get stopped on the way in by someone wanting to say hello. Keeping my head down, hoping my curtain of hair would shield me, I walked quickly.

  The door to the chief’s office was open. Inside, sitting behind a metal desk, was a heavyset man in dress blues. His thinning gray hair was brushed to the side and his buttons strained across his chest. As I stood in the doorway, his head came up and light blue eyes met mine. They studied me for a moment before the edges crinkled as his cheeks plumped up with his smile. Then he stood, his body rising slowly to reveal his full height. The man was practically a giant compared to me.

  “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

  “Thank you.” I shook his outstretched hand, watching as it swallowed mine before releasing it again. Dismayed, to see that my hand trembled slightly, probably in time with my racing heart. Sitting down in the chair, I clasped my hands together in my lap. When I opened my mouth to say the words I’d been practicing in my head, the chief beat me to the punch.

  “Your father was well-respected around here.”

  My eyes widened. “Did you know him?”

  “Not well. I met him a few times. He was an excellent officer.”

  I gripped my hands together tighter. “I’m here to talk about the fact that his case is still unsolved.”

  Chief Hanson eyed me steadily, waiting for me continue.

  “I want to tell you what really happened that night,” I clarified. “The truth isn’t in any of the reports.”

  “What really happened,” he repeated, his voice even. Then he picked up a folder on his desk. “I pulled the case file before you came in. I had another visitor today that made me want to take a look at this. It’s kind of thin for an unsolved investigation into the death of an officer. It’s thin for any kind of murder investigation.” He leaned forward. “What is it you want to tell me, Sarah?”

  With those words, I began to hope. With that hope, came tears. I cried the entire time I recounted that terrible night to him. But I didn’t only talk about that night. I mentioned the conversations I’d overheard between my parents when my father refused to forget the law for Jackson Pierce. Then I told him all the terrible things Jackson did to Spencer that led to my father and me being in the car that night, on our way to see a social worker.

  The chief listened, retrieving a tissue box from the top of his cabinet for me. He didn’t say much, just like Spencer indicated, but his mouth still moved, tensing and turning downward as I spoke. I got the feeling anger was brewing beneath his calm exterior.

  When I finished, he stood and got a pad of paper and a pen. He placed it on his desk in front of me and said, “Write down everything you can remember about that night.” Then he smiled gently at me. “We can’t charge someone with a crime who’s unable to stand trial. But we can open an inquiry into the case and try to uncover the truth.”

  I knew he meant that a dead man couldn’t be charged with my father’s murder. Even though I suspected as much, hearing him say it sucked the air out of my lungs. But an inquiry was better than what my father had gotten before. He’d gotten nothing.

  As I wrote, reliving it all again for the second time today, I realized that I didn’t feel the way Spencer had out in the parking lot. Instead, I felt a strange kind of relief. Having Chief Hanson listen to me so intently and react the way I thought a police chief should react when hearing a story like mine felt gratifying. This was why I’d come here. This was what I’d needed. To tell the truth and have someone in a position of authority listen to it, want to act on it, and not try to silence me.

  My own reaction made me worry even more about Spencer’s. He was still hurting so badly. We might have had tragedies in common, but what he went through was very different. He needed help to deal with it all. He needed to talk to someone.

  It wasn’t a coincidence that I had a message from Russ waiting for me when I left the station. I’d been there for over three hours. The chief wanted me to retell my story to another officer, someone I didn’t know from before. I’d told it many times before I was done, and now I was completely drained.

  My phone made no sounds while I was in the police station because there was no service in there. Cell service on the Cape was spotty, at best. Actually, it sucked, which explained why I got multiple messages and text alerts when I reached a place that had coverage again.

  Before listening to Russ’s message, I dialed Spencer as Riley drove through the busy downtown area. It went right to his voice mail. So I left a message about how my meeting went. I hoped I wasn’t being naive and that Chief Hanson hadn’t ripped up my statement and thrown it away the moment I was out the door. I didn’t think so, but after what happened with my father’s investigation and what his so-called friends had done, I knew enough not to blindly trust the police anymore.

  Real worry for Spencer didn’t set in until after I’d listened to Russ’s message. “Sarah, I hear you’re down at the station. Is everything okay? Call me when you get this.”

  “Oh no,” I muttered. Then I dialed Spencer again, figuring Russ’s friends must also have known Spencer had been there. When it went right to voice mail, I started chewing my lip. “Can you call Colby?” I asked Riley. “Spencer isn’t picking up.”

  She gave me a curious look, then she grabbed her phone and dialed. Colby picked up right away. “Why isn’t Spencer answering his phone?” she asked.

  She shot me a reassuring smile as she listened. “Okay, we’re on our way.” When she ended the call, she said, “He went for a walk on the beach. Colby said the wind is whipping pretty hard today. He probably didn’t hear it. He’ll be back by the time we get there.”

  I tried not to worry but was restless as I watched out the window. During the ride, my phone rang and I was so anxious to talk to Spencer, I didn’t check to see who it was first. If I had, I wouldn’t have answered.

  “Russ said you were at the police station? Is everything okay?” Mom asked.

  I stiffened, sitting up straighter in my seat.

  “Sarah?”

  “Everything is fine. I went in to see the new chief.”

  “Why would you do that?” she asked.

  I exhaled, bracing myself for her reaction. “To talk to him about Dad.”

  She said nothing at first. Then she asked softly, “What did you do?”

  “I told the truth about that night, just like I did before. Only this time, someone listened to me.” I felt Riley’s gaze on me as I spoke. We were only a few blocks from Colby and Spencer’s place now.


  A heavy silence filled the line until she finally said, “Russ said Spencer Pierce was there today too.”

  At her words, I gripped the phone tighter. “Yes.”

  “Have you seen him since you’ve been there?”

  “Yes.”

  “You always had a soft spot for that boy.”

  “It’s more than a soft spot, Mom.”

  After a moment, she asked, “Are you okay?”

  I heard concern in her tone, but no sign of anger. “I am. For the first time in a long time, I really am.”

  She sighed. “I know how hard this has been on you, and I can’t say I’m surprised by what you’ve done. Your father wouldn’t have been surprised either. Knowing him, he would have been proud of you.”

  My tongue felt thick. She’d stopped short of saying she was proud of me, but I still held tightly to her words. “I hope so.”

  When we ended the call, I looked around to see that Riley had already parked the Jeep in front of the cottage. She jumped out and walked right inside without knocking.

  “He’s not back yet,” I heard Colby say as I came in behind her. He was sitting at their small kitchen table, writing in a notebook covered in messy pencil scrawls.

  Riley looked back at me to gauge my reaction. My phone was still in my hand, so I dialed him again. When I got voice mail, I sent a text and watched for a reply.

  “How long has he been gone?” I asked.

  Colby glanced at his watch. “An hour, I guess. Maybe more.”

  My chest tightened with worry.

  Riley bit her lip and took a step closer to me. “He looked pretty upset before. It wouldn’t be unusual for him to go off on his own for a while.”

  “Spencer knew I was having my meeting. He would have checked his phone by now. He would have called me back.”

  “Sarah. He’s fine,” she said in a soft tone meant to calm me.

  “Help me look for him.” I walked toward the slider, ready to head outside. They glanced at each other before Colby dropped his pen and stood up.