by LS Sygnet
“Not really,” I said. “This rift, five years ago I think you said, did it close off all communication between Scott and Theo?”
“Not completely. They’re capable of having some pretty bland and meaningless conversations, but they haven’t spoken of substance for years. Scott was hurt that Theo didn’t accept the advice in the spirit intended. Theo resented Scott for butting into something he saw as a private matter. As for family holidays, that ended. We haven’t seen Scott in a couple of years. Although, it seems he’s managed to find trouble on this recent visit.”
“And through all of this drama, you’ve managed to remain close with both of your brothers?” I asked.
“You’d think I was the middle child, the proverbial peacemaker,” Rham grinned.
“Are you aware of any incidents that might’ve given Scott reason to believe his advice was correct and that Theo was wrong?” Johnny asked.
“Sure, there were plenty of instances where Kyle was targeted by bullies, particularly when he decided he wanted to dress and behave as though he’s a woman. As far as I know, Scott never was aware of any of that, and didn’t broach the subject with Theo again. Like I said, their relationship was damaged into a state of superficial civility.”
“Do you think that Scott would ever resort to tactics that might be a little… extreme? I guess what I’m asking is if Scott would go too far to show Theo that he was right and Theo was wrong?”
Goddard tilted his head right and peered at Johnny. “I’m sorry, but why is OSI so interested in the relationship between my brothers or the behavior of Kyle?”
“Mr. Goddard,” I began carefully. “Have you looked at this morning’s edition of the Sentinel?”
“Sure,” he said. “Is this about that incident at Scott’s concert on New Year’s Eve?”
“I’m afraid it is,” I said. “Ordinarily, we prefer to notify the next of kin in these situations, but since your brother isn’t here –”
“Oh God. What happened?”
Johnny cleared his throat. ”The murder victim at the Pan Demon concert was your nephew Kyle, Mr. Goddard. Scott is aware of the victim’s identity as of last night. We haven’t been able to inform Theo yet, which I’m sure you realize, rates an in person notification rather than delivering that kind of news by telephone.”
“God,” he rasped. “Theo’s going to be devastated. Scott must be too.”
“Mr. Goddard, we have reason to suspect that Kyle’s death is the result of a hate crime. Were you close to your nephew?”
“Close enough.”
“Can you think of anyone who knew him that might’ve wanted to harm him?” I asked.
“No. I mean there were people in school that harassed him a bit. He went to public school because the church seriously frowned on Kyle’s behavior. Are you sure it was Kyle?”
“Our medical examiner made a positive identification,” Johnny said. “Not only that, Scott recognized the photo of the victim and identified him as Kyle Goddard.”
“Theo and Marion will be destroyed by this. Kyle is their only child.”
“Are you sure you don’t recall any incidents that were volatile or threats that were made toward Kyle?” I asked.
“Well, there was one incident. There’s a club in Downey where female impersonators perform. One of Kyle’s friends from high school recently started performing there. He’s twenty-one, and Kyle would’ve been twenty in a couple of months. Anyway, they had some sort of big show over there during the festival, and this friend of Kyle’s sneaked him in to perform with a fake ID.”
Johnny nodded. “I remember that. The police were called to break up a protest outside the bar that turned violent. Some of the performers were arrested for inciting violence.”
“When did this happen, Johnny?”
His eyes widened. I watched a knot in his throat hitch and slide. “October,” he rasped.
“Last October?”
Johnny nodded. “You were in the hospital.”
“Is that significant?” Goddard asked.
Not for reasons that related to our current investigation. Johnny remembered something. I wondered if anything else from that time period was flooding his memory, maybe something that related to how he saved me from more scrutiny by the FBI over Rick’s death.
“I take it Kyle was part of the group that helped fan the flames that turned the protest violent,” he said.
“Yeah,” Goddard said. “Theo was livid, more because Kyle was underage and performing his act illegally than anything else. The owner of the club got cited for allowing minors to perform. It was a big mess.”
My first thought was that if Kyle’s murder was related to what happened in October, it had little to do with the underage issues of this men’s club, but could be linked to one of the protesters, particularly since it was conceivable that Kyle was killed because of his transgender lifestyle.
Johnny cut through my thoughts. “Any more questions, Doc?”
“No,” I slid a card across the table to Goddard. “If you think of anything else, please call immediately. I’d appreciate if you not share what we told you with anyone. We’d like to have the opportunity to speak with Theo and his wife before they learn what happened from other sources.”
“Is it all right if I talk to Scott?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’d just caution you to be as discreet as possible. This is an ongoing investigation, Mr. Goddard.”
When we were alone, Johnny threaded the fingers of his right hand with my left. “Could be an important lead, Helen.”
“Screw that. Johnny you remembered something!”
“It’s more confusing than the blank slate,” he admitted. “Suddenly there’s all of this jumbled up stuff in my head. It felt like I was seeing something from outside my body.”
“Were you at this protest?”
“I don’t know,” Johnny said. “All I know for sure is that I remember that it happened, and that I couldn’t quite bring myself to care about another anti-gay drama playing out in Downey.”
“This has happened before?”
“Yeah,” he said. “There’s a Baptist church that organizes protests outside gay friendly establishments on a pretty regular basis.”
“We should be looking at them too, at least superficially. If one of them stalked Kyle Goddard and took advantage of an opportunity to attack him, his death might have nothing to do with anyone associated with Pan Demon. We should talk to whoever organizes those protests as soon as possible, Johnny.”
He cleared his throat. “Well that shouldn’t be too hard, Doc.”
“You’re being reluctant.”
“It just got really complicated again.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“The church,” he said softly, “it’s Crevan’s church.”
“Oh God.”
“His dad is pretty involved in some of the protest activities.”
I cradled my forehead. “Just can’t be simple, cut and dried out here no matter what, can it?”
“We knew things might get a bit sticky for Crevan, Helen.”
“Confronting his father as a potential person of interest in a murder investigation is a bit beyond the scope of sticky. This is the same man who made my friend feel like shit over something as simple as divorce.”
“I know,” Johnny said.
“And you can’t tell me that he didn’t raise Crevan and never suspect the truth. No parent lives in that kind of denial.”
“Sweetheart, you haven’t met Aidan Conall yet. I’m not certain, but I think it’s a distinct possibility that this guy invented denial.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t tell Crevan about this development.”
“And let Aidan blindside him with the inevitable confrontation? No way, Doc. He’s our friend. I won’t do that to him. I can tell you a couple of things that are givens in this situation. Number one, Aidan will lay into Crevan as if he orchestrated the entire thing. And number two, there�
��s no way in hell that Aidan will cooperate with us if he gets even a mere hint that one of his fellow Baptists is being accused of anything illegal. This guy believes that the first amendment of the constitution was written specifically for his people.”
“Christians?”
“No,” Johnny said. “Only Baptists are real Christians. The rest of us idolaters are hell bound along with atheists, homosexuals, abortion advocates, drinkers, drug addicts–”
“You realize that you’re making a very strong motive for why someone would specifically want it to look like someone affiliated with Pan Demon is guilty of murder, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” Johnny muttered. “Whole new can of worms now, Doc. I cringe to see how Aidan reacts to you.”
“Why?”
He stared at me hard. “Because I’m not sure which one of you will win the battle of iron wills.”
It seemed like Johnny remembered more than he realized.
Chapter 18
Crevan’s reaction wasn’t unlike mine had been. Both hands plastered to the sides of his face. “Shit.” Pacing commenced. “Are we sure that Kyle Goddard was part of the mob outside that club in –?”
Johnny waved the police report in front of him. “No doubt about it. The ringleaders from the performers who incited the violence from the protesters were Kyle Goddard and a guy by the name of Robert Tippet. They paid their fines and that was the end of it. Your dad’s group of merry little protesters ended up being cited for a bit more, property damage in excess of ten grand, setting vehicles on fire, and physical assault on three patrons of the club who tried to prevent them from destroying cars.”
“Christ.”
“Crevan, where were you while all of this was happening?” I asked.
“I believe, if memory serves, Tony and I were finishing up the paperwork on the mess at Uncle Nooky’s Bar and Grill. We closed that case on what, Wednesday morning? The demonstration and bit of civil disobedience happened on Friday night.”
“Was Aidan at this disturbance?” I asked.
“No,” Johnny said. “He was in charge of the peaceful protest that took place at the parade Saturday in Darkwater proper.”
Crevan continued to wear the wax off the tile floor in the division squad room. I felt an urge to step into his path and soothe away an odd anxiety that I suddenly shared with him. Why? I couldn’t begin to explain it beyond the odd sense of empathy that began to plague me shortly after I moved to this wretched city. Maybe the fog was eating rusty holes in my normal steely resolve.
I succumbed to the urge. I gripped his shoulders. “Hey, this is OSI’s case officially. Let Johnny and me handle your dad, Crevan.”
“Helen, I don’t need the two of you protecting me.”
“I really hate to ask this question, but on some level, any level, do you think it’s possible that Aidan suspects the truth about you?”
He laughed wetly. “Are you nuts? If he had a clue, there would be a headstone erected with my name on it, announcing the day he buried the son he always wanted but never got.”
“Are you suggesting that he’d kill you for being –?”
Crevan slapped his hand over my mouth. “Let’s not get carried away and forget that these walls in particular have ears.”
On cue, Briscoe lumbered into the squad room with a box of lard-fried pastries of some sort. He tossed the box on Crevan’s desk, flipped the lid and dug in. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing,” Crevan said.
“Something,” Johnny scowled. “We have reason to believe that a likely person of interest in Goddard’s murder could be affiliated with the protesters from Foundation’s Baptist Church.”
Briscoe’s sugary heart attack froze in mid air. “How the hell did we leap from this Underwood guy to a local bein’ the perp?”
“Goddard was cited for being an instigator of that riot during Pride Week,” Johnny said. He tossed the file onto the desk with a huff of disgust. “I can’t believe we wasted all this time zeroed in on people who probably had nothing to do with the crime beyond being convenient scape goats.”
“Wait a minute, Johnny. That boy’s body was still found in an area that not just anybody would’ve had easy access to,” I said. “Security is tight for events like a concert on the scale of a band as popular as Pan Demon.”
“Helen, my father is on the board of directors for the Darkwater Art’s Council,” Crevan said. “He would pretty much have access to anything that happens at the Center for Performing Arts. Nobody would stop him, nor would they question him.”
“So now we’ve leapt to your father being a suspect?”
“Now hold on there just a second, Helen,” Briscoe said. “Puppy ain’t sayin’ his daddy is a cold blooded killer. If he has access, pretty much anybody he trusts implicitly could’ve gotten in that place same as he would’ve.”
“Well I guess that rules me out as a suspect,” Crevan muttered under his breath.
Johnny and Briscoe didn’t hear him. I did. I wrapped my arms around him for a quick hug. “Screw him and his weird xenophobic ideas. I trust you implicitly.”
“Thanks, Helen.”
“We all know you ain’t nutty like Aidan,” Briscoe said. “Don’t worry about it, Puppy. We’ll get to the bottom of this mess.”
“I want you to stake out the marina, Tony,” Johnny said abruptly. “I want to know the second Theo Goddard’s boat arrives.”
“Aw, c’mon, Johnny. You could put uniforms on that –”
“Not with Belle Conall sniffing around for information. I want this as low key as possible. Don’t worry. Crevan will tag along for company.”
“I will?”
“Yes,” Johnny said. “Don’t worry. If I have to clear it with Finkelstein, I will, but she’s aware that OSI is taking the lead on this one. The Goddards could conceivably be back in town before we expect them. I know if I had a kid running around town while I was off on a pleasure cruise and the Coast Guard hailed me, I’d be hurrying back home double-time.”
He waited until they left the squad room before addressing me directly. “Did you have to hug him?”
“Who, Crevan?”
“No, Briscoe.”
“Johnny –”
One hand raked through his hair and was accompanied by a hissed curse. “I don’t understand why it pisses me off when I see you touch another man. It’s like an echo in my head, Helen. I can’t make out the words, but my gut doesn’t like how it feels.”
“Maybe we should talk about some of the specifics of what you endured from me over the past few months,” I said.
“Again, my gut’s not so fond of that idea.”
“Johnny, after I was shot, you planned to move in with me to look after me while I was recovering.”
“It didn’t happen?”
“No, but it wasn’t your fault. For now, let’s just say that I had a serious case of stubbornness and leave it at that. What I will tell you is that I withdrew from everything and everyone. In fact, my life pretty much revolved around some very nice Napa merlot and my bottle of pain pills.”
“Is that why you look a little wan?”
“I’ve actually gained weight, but it wasn’t without another battle.”
“Let me guess. Me.”
I nodded. “But I was very angry with you, with your high-handed approach to the problem. I said some things that weren’t very nice.”
“What kind of things?”
My chin dipped about to navel level. “I told you that I hated you.”
“I see.”
“But I don’t, Johnny. I never have.”
“I have some holes in my memory, Doc. I’m not stupid. Remember? Not blind either.”
Some of his smug hubris surged out from his chest. I laughed softly.
“I know you love me. That’s not where the doubt comes from. I guess I’m just not sure that you love me more than you love your options.”
“I was a faithful wife.”
“Uh-hu
h. And now, you’re footloose and fancy-free as the old saying goes. Maybe you’re thinking you shouldn’t put all your eggs in one basket.”
I groaned. “How many adages can you pack into one accusation? Johnny, I’ve never been –”
“Let’s not have this discussion right now,” he said. “I suspect that a little more privacy will be required. How about if we focus on sorting through this latest mess instead? I think we should talk to Aidan Conall as soon as possible.”
“Is there an office where we might find him working this afternoon?”
Johnny grinned. “You glossed right over what Crevan said about him, didn’t you? Aidan Conall is not a nine-to-five kind of guy, Helen. He’s a board member, a philanthropist, a manager of the family’s very old, very large endowment that consists of heaps of cold hard cash.”
“Why on earth is Crevan a public servant if his family has that kind of money?”
“I believe that is yet another bone of contention between father and son,” Johnny said. “It seems that their ideas on the definition of public service are about as polar opposite as everything else. Crevan wanted something with a more immediate impact on helping others, and Aidan has always believed that the trenches belong to those bred for sweating, not the fine folks who can afford to pay others to dig.”
“Lovely. You realize, you’ve painted an image of someone I can’t imagine ever liking.”
“And I’d rather that you know what to expect before you meet him. Somehow, I think it might lower the risk of verbal warfare and bloodshed if you know what we’re about to confront. C’mon, Doc. No time like the present to find the fine man and talk about some of his moral philanthropy.”
“Why do I have the sinking feeling that most of his good works cost him very little cash?”
“Because you’re a very gifted profiler,” Johnny hooked his arm through mine. “I’d suggest we avoid mentioning Crevan at all, and if Aidan is as pissed off about this divorce as Crevan’s behavior would indicate, Belle is definitely out of bounds.”
“What a mess. I hate to be the one who actually says this, Johnny, but don’t you find it a little odd that all of this seems to in some way relate to Crevan?”
