“Nothing on the serial number,” Eddie said. “What are you thinking?”
He shook his head, but Eddie knew better. Harvey was never not thinking.
“It could take hours,” Eddie reminded him.
“Yeah, but I set it to run local prints first.”
“Coffee?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Since no one was working in the lab that day except the two of them, there wasn’t any coffee in the pot. Eddie went out and got some from the machine in the patrol officers’ duty room. He took the two Styrofoam cups back, but when he got to the lab, Harvey was on his feet, putting the shells back in the evidence bag.
“We’re done,” he said.
“No joke? You got a hit?”
“His name is Kyle Quinlan. He lives in the West End.”
Harvey went to one of the computers and logged in, while Eddie closed down the IAFIS program, put everything away, and added information to the tag for the evidence room.
Harvey was printing something when he finished. Eddie walked over to the lab’s printer and caught the sheet it kicked out. He deliberately didn’t read it on his way back.
“Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Harvey logged out of the computer and took the paper. “He’s thirty-one.”
“That’s awfully young to die on Christmas.”
“Or any other day.” Harvey frowned at the paper. “He graduated from Portland High, but I couldn’t find that he went on to college.”
“A lot of kids don’t.”
“Yeah.”
“Does he have a record?” Eddie asked.
“Unfortunately, yes, hence the fingerprint match. Drugs, small time, and a couple of traffic violations.”
“OUI’s?”
“Two.”
Eddie gritted his teeth. Two impaired driving arrests would pretty much guarantee a suspended license for several years. That would be hard on a guy Quinlan’s age.
“Did you find the next of kin?”
“Yeah. He’s divorced, so I guess we go to his parents. But I want to see Mike first.”
Eddie nodded. “Maybe we should ask Dan on the way out if he’s had any missing persons reports.”
“It’s awfully early,” Harvey said. “He just died this morning.”
“True. But people worry, you know, on the holidays.”
“Yeah.”
“What about searching his house?” Eddie asked.
“I put in a warrant request, but we’re not likely to get one today.”
“Okay, let’s go see the chief.”
Eddie picked up the coffee cups and handed Harvey one. They stopped at the desk, but Dan said it was pretty quiet. A couple of cars had crashed in North Deering, and there were a lot of fender benders earlier in the day. Two break-ins and a domestic dispute had been reported, but patrol officers were taking care of them.
Eddie drove to Mike’s house. Debbie, Sharon, and Mike Junior’s wife, Julie, were out in the front yard having a snowball fight with the kids.
“Mike’s inside,” Sharon called.
“Thanks,” Harvey said.
Eddie stooped and made a snowball and lobbed it at her granddaughter, Lexie.
“Hey, you!” The twelve-year-old was hopping mad, or at least she wanted Eddie to think she was. She scrambled for a snowball, and Eddie ran inside after Harvey. Tommy had opened the door.
“Yo, Eddie,” he said.
“Hi, Tommy.” Eddie had only met Mike’s younger son a couple of times, but Tommy was everybody’s friend. He took them into the living room, where Mike, Elliott, and Mike Junior were watching a football game. They all looked glutted, but Mike had a can of Moxie in his hand, and his boys were drinking Bud.
“Hey, guys.” The chief passed the remote to Mike Junior and lumbered up out of his chair. “Come on in here so we don’t disturb the game.” He took them into the dining room. “What have you got, Harv?”
“We’ve I.D.’d the corpse. He’s local.”
“Oh?” Mike’s eyebrows arched. “Anyone I know? I didn’t get a good look at his face.”
“Maybe. Kyle Quinlan.”
Mike went still as the statue of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow downtown. After the space of a breath, he said, “That numbskull.”
Chapter 3
“So, you do know him,” Harvey said.
Mike walked over to the doorway and yelled, “Hey, Michael, come in here a sec.”
Mike Junior sauntered into the dining room.
“Who’s winning?” Mike asked.
“Still the Pats.”
“You remember Kyle Quinlan?”
“Sure. What about him?” Mike Junior looked at his father’s face, then looked at Harvey and Eddie. “Oh, no. You don’t mean—Really? Come on, Dad, no.”
Mike sighed, shaking his head. “I’m afraid so.” He swung around to look at the detectives. “Is this a visual I.D.?”
“Fingerprints on the ammo,” Harvey said.
“Ammo?” Mike Junior zeroed in on it. “There was a gun? What are we talking about, Dad?”
“Yes, there was a gun under him,” Mike said.
Junior’s jaw dropped. “Tell me Kelly and Mickey didn’t touch it.”
“They didn’t touch anything,” Mike said. “They came straight to me.”
Mike Junior walked over to the table, pulled out a chair, and plunked down into it, looking dazed. After a few seconds, he looked up at his father. “So, do you know what happened?”
“Not yet.”
“Was he shot?” Mike Junior looked Harvey.
“We don’t think so,” Harvey said. “Was this young man a friend of yours, Michael?”
“Yes—well, no—I mean, he was my friend’s kid brother.” He rubbed his eyes and then looked up. “Jordy Quinlan. Jordan. We were good friends in high school. Ran track together.”
“Do you keep in touch with Jordan?”
“Not much. I see him once in a blue moon, when I come home. In fact, I was thinking of giving him a call and seeing if he would be around tomorrow.” Michael swore and pounded the table. “That kid was always a knucklehead. What did he do?”
“We don’t know,” Harvey said.
“But you’ll find out.” Mike looked at his son. “Michael, these two guys are the best of the best.” That made Eddie feel pretty good, but he tried to look appropriately sober for the occasion. Mike put a hand on Mike Junior’s shoulder. “Do you want to go over to the Quinlans’ with me?”
Harvey cleared his throat. “I was planning to see the family.”
“Of course,” Mike said. “You’ll have to, officially. I thought Mikey and I might go as friends. But you’re in charge of this. If you want to get the official stuff out of the way first, fine.” He met Harvey’s gaze. “Unless you want me to break it to them?”
“You know his parents personally?” Harvey asked.
“Sure. Lonnie and I went to all the boys’ track meets. Jordan was over here half the time, and Michael was at their house the other half. I didn’t know Kyle so well. He was two or three years younger—between Michael and my Tommy. But he was always into mischief, I remember that.”
“Yeah, he was an idiot,” Mike Junior said. “But he was still Jordan’s brother. I’ll go with you, Dad.” He stood up.
Harvey looked at Eddie. “Maybe you should go on over to my house. I could ride over to the Quinlans’ with Mike, and he could drop me off at home later.”
“Sure,” Mike said. “We could go together and only bother them once. You don’t mind, do you Eddie?”
Not mind getting out of telling a couple their son was dead? He was happy to let Mike and Harvey handle it.
“That’s fine. I’ll see you later, Harvey.”
“He did most of the work in the lab,” Harvey said to Mike.
“Thanks, Eddie.” Mike looked into his eyes. “If you want to go along—”
“No, I’m good, Chief.” Eddie took a step toward the door.
T
ommy appeared and looked in at them. “What’s going on, Dad?”
Mike sighed. “Come on in, son.”
Eddie left. On the way to Van Cleeve Lane, he remembered the possibility of taking Leeanne to his folks’. He wanted very much to introduce her to them. Maybe seeing Mike with his sons had made him a little wistful for his family. He’d ask her what she thought. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Harvey and Jennifer were like part of his family now, but Jennifer’s large clan could be daunting. Eddie didn’t want to scare Leeanne off with his own tribe.
*****
Leeanne met Eddie at the door. Harvey wasn’t with him.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Eddie reached for her hand. She almost pulled away, knowing her mother and brothers would stare at them. She was a private person, and they weren’t used to watching her act romantic. But Eddie was different from anyone she’d dated before.
They walked into the kitchen holding hands. Jennifer, Abby, and their mom were making dough for pizza and a salad for supper.
“Hey, Eddie,” Jennifer said. “Where’s Harvey?”
“He’s with Mike. I think it’s okay to tell you we identified the body.”
“Anyone you know?” Jennifer asked.
Eddie shook his head. “No, but he’s local, and the Brownings know the guy’s family. Harvey went to their house with the chief. I doubt he’ll be more than an hour.”
Jennifer nodded somberly as she chopped cucumbers into a big bowl of greens. “That’s one part of the job Harvey hates, but lately he’s been trying to see it as a way he can minister to the victims’ families.”
Leeanne looked hesitantly to Jennifer. “We could sit down and pray for them.”
“I think Harvey would appreciate that.” Jennifer put the bowl in the refrigerator and led Leeanne and Eddie into the sunroom. Nobody prayed very long, but they all asked for strength for Harvey and Mike. Eddie prayed for Mike Junior, too. It seemed he had taken the news hard. Jennifer was almost eloquent in praying for the young man’s parents, even though she didn’t know their names.
When they were done, Eddie smiled at her. “Thanks. That made me feel part of the family. You know, God’s family.”
Jennifer returned his smile. “Isn’t it a great family to be part of?”
“Yeah.”
She patted Leeanne’s shoulder and went back to the kitchen.
“You pray with Harvey and Jeff, don’t you?” Leeanne asked, looking into his soft brown eyes.
“Yeah, on our running mornings. I feel like I’ve got brothers, and it’s great. I only ever had sisters. But this seemed bigger. I mean, people praying for other people, and then those people pray for even more people, and on and on.”
“It’s a pretty big family,” Leeanne said.
“Yeah.”
“So, I guess you guys won’t be coming to Skowhegan at all.”
“Probably not soon,” Eddie said.
“Do you think you’ll have to work tomorrow?”
“We might.” He cocked his head toward one shoulder. “I was thinking of going over to my folks’ house for a few minutes after supper. Would you like to go with me?”
Leeanne fought back the panic that ambushed her. “Sure, I guess. I’d better help Jennifer with the meal now.”
“Okay,” Eddie said. “You go ahead. I’ll go do the man cave thing with your dad and Grandpa.”
Leeanne laughed. Eddie seemed as comfortable joining the football crowd as he had praying together. He never seemed nervous. Was it because he was older? Leeanne was already nervous about meeting his parents, and they hadn’t even left the house yet. She wished she had half his confidence.
*****
When Harvey returned, he looked tired and sad. Jennifer hugged him and put her hand up to his cheek.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” Harvey kissed her. “Supper about ready?”
“Yes, it is.”
They gathered for pizza and salad. There were rumors of pie to be served later. As soon as everyone had eaten and the dishwasher was loaded, Jennifer shooed them all into the living room so the family could open what gifts they had there. Eddie slipped into the study and pulled out his phone. No more procrastinating.
“Pop, it’s me. You guys having a good Christmas?”
“Yes. Your sisters are here, where they should be.”
Eddie ignored that little jab. “Have a big dinner?”
“Of course. How about you?”
“Well, I’m still in Portland, Pop. Harvey and I got called in for a new case, and we’re not going to Skowhegan.”
“So why aren’t you over here? You still working?”
“No, I thought I’d come for a few minutes. And bring Leeanne. That is, if you don’t mind.”
“Mind? Mind? We finally get to meet this girl?” Eddie knew the hand his dad wasn’t holding the phone with was in the air. “Viens! We’ll wait on the presents.”
“Oh, you don’t have to.”
“Your grandmother is here, and your nieces and nephews. Come on!”
“J’y serai,” Eddie told him; I’ll be there.
He went into the living room. Leeanne had her gift, a blue wool jacket, and was thanking Harvey and Jennifer with a priceless smile.
“Ready?” Eddie asked. She nodded and stood up.
*****
Leeanne was a little overwhelmed by the Thibodeaus. Eddie’s sisters, Élise and Monique, looked her over critically. Élise, whom Eddie told her to call Lisa, seemed to come to a decision and kissed her on the cheek, and Monique followed suit. Their mother’s embrace nearly smothered her.
“Finally, we meet Leeanne. What a little girl!”
“Okay, Maman,” Eddie said. “You’re embarrassing her.”
“I’m fine.” Leeanne gulped. She wasn’t that short. She turned to meet his father. He and Eddie’s brothers-in-law were less effusive. The kids—five between the two sisters—were noisy, but seemed happy. Most of them slowed down enough to say hi to Leeanne, some exuberantly, but four-year-old Josette, Élise and Ansel’s oldest, made a shy little curtsy, which won Leeanne’s heart.
Eddie’s grandmère had not left her place on the couch, and he took Leeanne’s hand and led her over there.
“Joyeux Noel, Mémé.” Eddie kissed her wrinkled cheek. “This is Leeanne.”
Mémé looked directly into her eyes and said, “Alors, comme elle est belle, Edouard.” Leeanne understood that and blushed a little. Mémé looked sharply at her and said, “Tu parles français?”
“Un peu,” said Leeanne. She’d had two years of French in high school, but she’d forgotten much of it.
“That’s good!” Eddie’s mother said. “Most of the French girls don’t speak French nowadays.” She looked pointedly at her elder daughter, Monique.
“Monique and Wyatt insist on speaking only English in their home,” Eddie explained.
Leeanne’s French soon reached its limits, and Monique said, “Hey everyone, let’s be polite to our guest and speak English.”
Eddie’s father frowned at Monique. “There’s nothing wrong with a little taste of the heritage. You should make those kids bilingual.”
“Like you?” Monique asked with a touch of bitterness. “We all know how they punished you if you spoke French in school. You’ve told us the story a million times.”
“They don’t have that law anymore,” Mr. Thibodeau said with an apologetic glance at Leeanne.
“That’s right,” Lisa put in. “Nowadays it’s chic to speak more than one language in the home.”
“Well, our kids are going to be Anglophones.” Monique turned away with a scowl.
Leeanne looked hesitantly at Eddie’s father. “I haven’t heard the story, Mr. Thibodeau. They punished you if you spoke French?”
He waved a hand through the air. “It’s an old law, to force all the immigrants to learn English. They made it when our families came down from Canada eighty or a hundred years ago to work in t
he mills. Maybe it was a good thing, who knows? Teachers weren’t allowed to teach in French unless it was a foreign language class.”
“It was hard,” Mémé said. “The children would come home so confused.”
“Yeah,” Eddie’s father said. “If I had a dollar for every time I had to write, ‘I will not speak French at school,’ I’d be a rich man.”
“They made you write lines?” Leeanne glanced at Eddie, and he nodded.
“One hundred times every time you opened your mouth and French came out,” his father said.
“Wow. I’m sorry that happened to you.” Leeanne felt the injustice of it. She hadn’t seen much prejudice in Skowhegan, but then, Mr. Thibodeau was probably thirty or forty years older than she was. Attitudes changed with the times. She turned to Eddie. “Did they do that to you and your sisters?”
“No. They did away with it before we hit school. Besides, we mostly spoke English by the time we started school.”
“But we were still encouraged to speak English only in the classroom,” Monique said. “I don’t want to set my kids back a generation.”
“Hey, enough about the Dark Ages,” her mother said. “It’s getting late. Let’s do the gifts while Eddie’s here.”
They all sat down in the living room, where the Christmas tree twinkled in a corner. Eddie looked questioningly at Leeanne as they began the gift ceremony, and she smiled to reassure him that she would not be embarrassed. Eddie had told her on the way over that he took his presents over to his parents’ house a few days before and left them with his mother. Nothing big, just tokens.
Mémé opened her package from her grandson and cried over the hairbrush and the new picture of Eddie. He leaned close to Leeanne’s ear and whispered, “She always cries when I give her anything.”
His parents had given him his gifts early because he wasn’t supposed to be there that day, but they opened theirs from Eddie. His mother liked the sweater, Leeanne could tell.
His father was harder to read. Eddie watched anxiously as he opened the box on a new GPS unit.
“That’s for your truck,” Eddie said.
“Oh.”
Leeanne thought Mr. Thibodeau liked it, but she wasn’t sure. Maybe he was one of those men who was hard to buy for. He worked in construction, she knew. He probably had all the tools he’d ever need. A GPS seemed a stroke of genius, but Eddie didn’t seem certain.
Heartbreaker Hero: Eddie's Story (Maine Justice Book 4) Page 3
