by Virna DePaul
The timing sounded right. Tina had come to his place looking for Lily around 8:00 p.m. Phone records showed she’d called her ex before that. According to the wait staff at 33rd St. Bistro, Park had shown up alone around 8:30 for dinner and drinks, and had left around 10:30, saying he was going to a movie. When the cops had interviewed him the next day, he’d had the ticket stub in his pants pocket. Two hours later, they’d picked up Hardesty. And a day later, they’d found Hardesty’s prints at the scene.
“She didn’t tell you what the emergency was?”
“Something about having an argument with one of her girls. Lily, I’m sure.”
The man’s derisive tone made John stiffen. “Why do you say that? You ever meet her girls?”
Park shook his head. “No. She refused to introduce me to them. Showed me pictures though. They didn’t look alike, but they were pretty. Like her.”
Yeah. Definitely pretty. “So why do you say she probably had a fight with Lily?”
Park shrugged. “It was something Tina talked about a lot. How hard Lily was taking her father leaving. How she blamed Tina and Tina didn’t know what to do. It would have been so easy for her to make Lily hate her father, but she didn’t want that, even if it meant keeping the truth from her.”
“The truth? Lily knew he’d had an affair. She had a new stepmother, for God’s sake.”
“She didn’t know her father had cheated in the past. Many times in the past.”
John pursed his lips and leaned back in his chair. “Doug Cantrell cheated more than once? And Tina stayed with him? I have to say that surprises me. I knew the family. Tina didn’t seem like the type of woman who’d stay with a cheater.” But if that was the case, that meant John’s list of potential witnesses had just gotten a hell of a lot bigger. He couldn’t discount the possibility that one of Doug’s jealous lovers—hell, even his present wife had to be considered—had killed Tina.
“Sounds like you knew her pretty well.” Park’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You would have just been a kid when she died. Were you friends with one of her girls? The oldest one? Or even Lily?” He leaned back in his chair, nodding thoughtfully. “Tina mentioned a guy Lily was into. An older guy. What did you say your name was again?”
“Detective John Tyler. Now getting back to Doug Cantrell’s affairs. Why’d Tina stay with him?”
For a moment, the two men stared at one another. Park looked away first. “For her girls. They were younger. They loved their father. And Doug Cantrell—”
Park looked over John’s shoulder and paused.
“And what? What about the ex? Ever meet him?”
Holding up a finger, Park jerked to his feet. “Be right back.” He jogged over to the little girl who’d fallen and was crying. He helped her up, brushing off her knees and giving her a kiss before watching her run inside. He walked slowly back to John.
“What did you ask?”
“I asked if you’ve ever met Doug Cantrell.”
Park’s face hardened in memory. “Oh, yeah. The guy was an arrogant one. Cheated on Tina for years. Married the next woman he’d had an affair with, but then had the balls to accuse Tina and me of screwing around.”
John felt his brows shoot up. “When was this?”
“A few days before. He came by the house when I was there. They started to argue and Tina kicked me out. Told me she needed to talk to the guy.”
John lifted a skeptical brow. “And you just left?”
“Like I said, Tina was independent. I didn’t want to scare her off by getting all he-man on her. Believe me, I wanted to pound the guy into the ground. I still remember the look he gave me as I left. He was so damn pleased with himself.” Park shrugged. “But she was a grown woman. She knew what she was doing. And what she wanted.” Park’s mouth twisted. “Who she wanted.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I was younger, but I wasn’t stupid. She still loved him. Even though she tried to hide it, it was obvious. She knew it. I knew it. And he knew it.”
“And…?”
“And I don’t know.”
But his implication was obvious. Did he really think Doug had tried to reconcile with Tina and that he’d killed her when she refused? Doug Cantrell could make the same accusation against Park.
Testing him, John said, “Mr. Park, would you be willing to take a polygraph exam about all this?”
Park’s eyes widened. “But—I thought—Jesus, do you think I—”
“You were cleared a long time ago. But Hardesty’s making some allegations, and we need to build a solid case to present to the governor.”
“I’m sorry, but I just want to forget about all this. I mean, I have my wife. My kids.”
John nodded, not at all surprised. “Okay. Again, thanks.” John turned to leave and was almost to the outer gate when Park called out to him.
“Detective Tyler?”
John turned. “Yes?”
Park hesitated, looked around and then approached him, not stopping until he was about two feet away. His voice was low but urgent. “How is Lily? And her sister? Tina loved them so much. I—I heard one of them found the body. That she claims memory loss. Is that true?”
John pressed his lips together. “I can’t talk about that.”
“Don’t mean to pry. It’s just, I’m not a religious man, but I often think—if there is such thing as a soul, Tina’s would rest better knowing her girls are okay. You know?”
John studied the man. His refusal to take a polygraph exam hadn’t done anything to make him more trustworthy in John’s eyes, but it wasn’t necessarily damning, either. In truth, he’d think twice himself before agreeing to take one. “I haven’t seen her sister, but Lily’s doing okay. As you can imagine, though, having to revisit all this is tough for her. I’m sure you understand why getting through this investigation quickly would be in her best interest.”
Park nodded his head quickly. “Of course. I’m so sorry it’s having to be brought up for her again. Honestly, I want to help, but—” He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced back at his kids. “I have a family now. And who knows what Doug Cantrell would do to protect himself—”
John frowned. “Just what are you insinuating?”
Park raised his hand in an appeasing gesture. “Nothing. It’s just, I’ve always felt he got off easy because he was a cop.”
Park had apparently forgotten that’s what John was. “We’re exploring everything, Mr. Park.”
“Oh sure, sorry. It’s just with the memory loss and all…”
“What,” John prompted when the man hesitated.
“Well, there’s all those cases about sexual abuse and women remembering it years later. I wonder if...”
Park trailed off as John stared at him.
“So now you’re accusing Doug of molesting his daughters? I’d be careful who I said that to.”
“Oh, I’m not accusing. I just thought, you know, it shouldn’t be dismissed offhand. Right?”
“Goodbye, Mr. Park. Thank you for your help.”
As John drove away, he tried to calm the adrenaline buzzing through his body. Park didn’t know what he was talking about.
But yet, his mind countered, was it really that unbelievable? Incestuous molestations were a sad fact of life. Plus, he’d seen Doug manhandle Lily once after walking her home. Doug had spewed his accusations about John dealing drugs while ignoring the way Lily had gasped in pain when he’d grabbed her wrist. John had instantly seen red. He’d grabbed the older man’s wrist, forgetting that he was a cop who could have him thrown in jail again. All he’d known was he was hurting Lily. He could’ve hurt Tina, too.
Then there was the fact that Lily resembled her mother, and that she’d had marks on her, faint but still there, when she’d come to his party.
He pulled over, rolled down the window, and took several deep breaths to clear his head. Now he was letting his imagination get away from him. Poor Doug Cantrell was no longer just a murde
r suspect in his mind, but a sexual abuser, as well.
Rein yourself in, John.
He started driving again, the picture of a happy family in his rearview mirror.
One thing for sure, he wasn’t going to rest easy until he knew for certain The Razor was caught and that nothing—and no one—posed a threat to Lily or her family again.
Chapter 6
John worked like a madman all the next day, hunting down potential video surveillance or witnesses for any of The Razor’s victims, pausing only when his stomach grumbled, calling his attention to the hollow feeling in his gut. He hadn’t eaten anything but the banana and apple he’d grabbed on the way out this morning. He glanced at the clock, surprised that it was almost 6:00 p.m.
He took a break, wolfed down pretzels and a soda from the vending machine, and confirmed the office was virtually deserted. Returning to his desk, he stared at the paperwork covering the surface.
One picture bothered him more than others. Staring at it, he struggled with the frustration of knowing something—he just didn’t know what—was wrong.
In the picture, Tina lay in bed; her arms were by her side with her hands resting near her stomach. Her legs were bent.
Suddenly, it hit him. It looked like someone had stretched an arm under her knees and carried her to the bed. The way a groom would carry his bride over the threshold.
He already knew from the autopsy report that Tina hadn’t died in her bed; that meant her body had been moved there. What if someone had moved her from the hard floor to the soft bed because he’d felt guilty? What if he’d moved her because he’d cared about her?
Under that theory, the positioning of her body actually supported Park’s implication that Doug Cantrell, and not Hardesty, had killed Tina.
He rifled through some boxes until he found what he was looking for. A plastic baggie containing a tape of Doug Cantrell’s 911 call. Walking to a table on the other side of the office, John inserted the tape into a tape player and pressed Play.
First static. Then Cantrell’s voice.
“Help me. My wife and I…my daughter and I…” He sobbed. “My wife…I just found her… . Oh my God, she’s dead.”
John’s stomach spasmed at the gut-wrenching grief in Cantrell’s voice.
“Where are you, sir? Are you safe?”
“Yes, yes. My name is Douglas Cantrell. I’m an officer with Roseville P.D. I just brought my daughter home. My wife and I… .I mean, we’re divorced… . She’s been murdered. Stabbed. Oh, God.”
“Where is your daughter now? Is she with you?”
“Yes. Lily, come here.”
John tensed but didn’t hear Lily’s voice. No crying. Nothing.
“Lily…she found the body but I can’t get her to respond. She won’t talk. She’s in shock. Oh God, Lily.”
The dispatcher confirmed the address and said officers were on their way. That had been at 12:35 a.m. John had arrived at Lily’s house less than ten minutes later.
Picking up the phone, he called Thorn. “It’s John.”
“Hey, thanks for taking time out of your busy day. Or did Murdoch forget to tell you I stopped by yesterday?”
“No, he told me.”
Silence buzzed in John’s ear as Thorn waited for him to explain. He didn’t say a word.
Thorn sighed. “Look, I know you’re still pissed at me for breaking up with Carmen, but we have to work this case together.”
“I’m not pissed about you and Carmen,” John said, and it was true. Thorn wasn’t a good friend, but he’d become a better one since he’d started dating his sister. Thorn had ended the relationship months ago, but Carmen refused to say why. “She’s hurting but so are you. I’m not blind to that, just to your reasons. If you want to explain, fine.”
When he responded, Thorn’s voice was tight. “I talked to Doug Cantrell.”
“Funny. He’s been dodging all my calls.”
“Not surprised. I am surprised, however, by the fact he thinks you’re a druggie. And that you have a history of harassing his daughter.”
“I didn’t harass her. She slapped me when I tried to comfort her at her mother’s murder scene. She was sixteen. Pissed because I’d rejected her. You have the police report from that night, Thorn. I’m listed on it. You telling me you didn’t see that?”
“Look, I don’t care about your history with Lily or her father. All I know is Hardesty’s attorneys are putting pressure on the governor to stop the execution and now Doug Cantrell is putting pressure on the A.G. to drop this investigation—”
“Let him. He hasn’t exactly been bending over backward to help us. Maybe we need to ask why.”
“We don’t need his help. You just need to tell the governor you’ve investigated things and you don’t believe The Razor killed Tina Cantrell. Sign off on Hardesty’s guilt and move on, and do it soon.”
Thorn’s words almost sounded like a command and John automatically bristled. He relaxed somewhat when Thorn spoke again.
“You do think Hardesty’s guilty, don’t you?”
“Based on the evidence we have, yes. But if he isn’t guilty, the next suspect in line would be Doug Cantrell. And given that, I don’t like him trying to stymie me. Especially not now.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m looking at the autopsy photos and there’s some basis for believing that whoever killed Tina Cantrell knew her. Maybe even loved her.”
“Hardesty’s guilty, damn it,” Thorn ordered, immediately making John’s hackles rise again. Thorn seemed to be shoving that down John’s throat quite a lot today… .
John rolled his neck and told himself to calm down. He reminded himself they were working toward the same goal. Despite Thorn’s repeated references to Hardesty’s guilt, he’d asked John to investigate, after all. “Look, the first two obvious suspects were Tina’s ex and her new boyfriend. The boyfriend had an alibi. Doug Cantrell didn’t.”
“He didn’t need one after Hardesty confessed.”
Sitting down once more, John picked up the photo of Tina’s body. “Did you know the body was staged?”
Thorn didn’t miss a beat. “Actually, I did. It’s in the autopsy report.”
“The prosecution’s theory was Hardesty surprised the vic in the kitchen and the fight started there.”
“Right. She tried to run and he followed her into the bedroom, where he killed her.”
“Seemed logical. Blood trails lead there. The pathologist said her body had been moved. She didn’t die on the bed because her wounds weren’t bleeding downward.”
“I’m still not seeing why you’re concerned.”
“Hardesty never admitted moving the body. Even in his confession, he said the attack started in the living room. He never said where she died. The pathologist says she died between 9:00 p.m. and 1:00 a.m. She had lividity in her chest during the autopsy so he thinks she died while lying on her side, which caused her chest to face down. He estimates she was in this position for several hours before being placed on the bed.”
John emphasized, “Several hours. Implying someone killed her and then hung around. If it was Hardesty, why? Why not get the hell out of there as fast as possible?”
Thorn clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, which he often did when deep in thought. “Maybe he got off on the sight of blood. Maybe he needed to clean up first, or think of a plan. He killed her. End of story.”
“If Hardesty killed her, he either moved the body afterward or someone else did. If you take it one step further, one might argue the victim being moved after her death shows Hardesty didn’t kill her. Not unless they’d had a relationship no one knew about.”
“Damn. So we’re back to the phantom suspect. I don’t buy it. It’s Hardesty. I know it was. Who’s to say he wasn’t seeing Tina Cantrell on the side?”
John thought about it. Thorn’s theory seemed a long shot, but anything was possible. “So she was dating the boyfriend, but Hardesty, too. Playing both en
ds, so to speak. Maybe she was just too embarrassed to admit it.” He felt himself wanting to grab hold of it, simply because it was a better alternative to suspecting Lily’s father.
But somehow he couldn’t let it go.
John stroked his chin thoughtfully. “I’ll explore the possibility that Hardesty was intimately involved with Tina Cantrell. But you know, Doug Cantrell made the 911 call. The person who reports a crime is often the perpetrator.”
As a cop, Cantrell could have manipulated the evidence. But he could have also manipulated other people. Even his own daughter.
Murdoch’s warning of a conflict flickered through his mind, but he deliberately pushed it away. Stay with the father. That’s where the evidence was leading him.
“Well, I’m not taking anything to the A.G. unless we have more than speculation. And I’d advise you to keep your mouth shut. This case started sensitive. What you’re talking about now is a freaking open wound.”
“I’m not accusing him. But if Doug Cantrell killed Tina and there’s any chance he’s The Razor, I can’t ignore it, either.” Even if Lily hates me, he thought with a hollow feeling.
* * *
With mixed emotions, Lily watched her niece and her two friends follow Aaron to the front door. Now that dinner was over, this was supposed to be her chance to stay and talk with Ivy. Only, now Lily was more certain than ever that Ivy didn’t want to talk to her.
“Wait.” Ivy practically knocked Lily down to catch everyone before they left. “I want another picture.”
Ashley rolled her eyes and said with an unmistakable whine, “Mom, we’re going to be late.” Still, she gamely put an arm around her friend in the aqua-blue dress and smiled. As Ivy took the picture, Aaron stared at his daughter with pride and a hint of sadness. The look made Lily’s breath catch.
She remembered the same look in her father’s eyes when she’d gone to her first dance with Carmen.
She hadn’t looked nearly as good or grown-up as Ashley. No wonder Aaron looked sad. With her dark hair braided into an intricate updo and her face lightly accented with makeup, she looked on the verge of womanhood.
