Closet Confidential

by Maffini, Mary Jane

  So where would they be now? I thought hard. On a night like this, the rough dirt road to Bakker Beach would be a sea of mud. Even a squad car could get stuck. So I doubted he’d pick that spot. The storage units were on the opposite side of town on the outskirts, about a twenty-minute drive. That was possible but less likely.

  Aside from his home and Pepper’s hospital room, both under police guard, the one other place that had a feature role in this series of events was the construction site. I was out of ideas, so it was worth a try. I tore off in that direction. The dogs huddled in the backseat, catching my anxiety, whining softly. I called Tierney again and told him where I was going. I told him to send a car to Bakker Beach and another to the industrial park to be sure. Then in case he didn’t pick up or didn’t believe me, I called Margaret and told her that Nick and the baby might have been kidnapped by Officer Dean Oliver. “I’m heading for the construction site. I’m not far now.”

  “Don’t go there, Charlotte,” she shouted.

  “Tell Frank,” I shouted back as I careened onto Friesen Street. “Tell him to get people out there, in case. But I’m here now.”

  “Stay in the car,” Margaret yelled.

  “I will. Get off the phone and call Frank.”

  I would have stayed in the car, too, if I hadn’t seen a shadow move past the viewing slot in the fence. I moved the Matrix as close as I could and got Sally on the line. “Sally, stay on the line. I need to see who has taken Nick and the baby. I believe it’s Officer Dean Oliver. I’ll try to identify him if I can and get a shot of him with my phone.”

  “Are you insane?”

  “Sally, it’s the baby, too. No, wait. I have a better idea.”

  I hung up on Sally and called Thalia. She was surprised to hear from me. “Remember you said there wasn’t much excitement around here and you’d like some? There’s going to be plenty tonight. Please call your friend on Potter Street and tell her to keep an eye on the construction site from her window. Can you do that, too?”

  “We can go down there,” Thalia said.

  I yelped, “Please don’t. The person has hostages already. Tell your friend Jane not to come out.”

  “Surely there’s safety in numbers. We could get everyone in our buildings—”

  “There’s no safety in numbers if someone starts shooting at witnesses. Please stay inside, but keep watch to see if anyone comes or goes. I have to go. Thank you, Thalia.”

  Thalia said, “I can see a red car parked outside it.”

  “That’s me. Please keep watching. And call 911. Tell them you think someone is being attacked on the site. But whatever you do, don’t mention my name.”

  I snapped the phone closed and told the dogs to be good. With luck Margaret would have called Frank, and Tierney would listen to his voice mail. My hands were shaking so much that I dropped the phone. It slipped down the side of the driver’s seat and landed on the floor underneath, out of reach. With fumbling fingers, I felt for the lever to let the seat slide all the way back. I grabbed the phone and picked it up. I wondered if it would be better to move the car to another spot, to keep the dogs safe. I was panicky, not thinking too clearly. Without pushing the seat back into place, I gripped the steering wheel. Of course, my feet didn’t come anywhere near the pedals. Like the squad car, this vehicle could accommodate a very tall person. That’s when the last piece of the puzzle slipped into place.

  When I’d tried to drive Nick’s squad car at Bakker Beach, the seat had been adjusted for a person taller than Nick. And much taller than Dean Oliver, who was probably no more than five seven. I’d liked not having to strain my neck looking up at Oliver. I’d accused the wrong cop. But if not Dean, then who?

  By now, I figured the guilty party had been interrupted by my arrival. He hadn’t intended to leave that car at Bakker Beach. And there was only one person it could have been. Not Dean Oliver at all, but the same officer who’d been on duty when Pepper supposedly fell in the hospital. With mounting horror I could see that he’d probably taken her by surprise and knocked her down, sparing him the danger that she would remember who really attacked her with his baton at Bakker Beach. Roger DeJong. The guy who got the Joe jobs and got chewed out by his superiors. He’d been the last uniformed officer to arrive back at Bakker Beach, and now I knew why. He’d had to ditch Miata in town and retrieve his own police car, left behind when he took Nick’s to Bakker Beach. I was pretty sure the plan had been to kill Pepper and frame Nick.

  He knew from guarding Pepper that Jack was looking after the baby. Easy for him to find out that Jack and I lived in the same house. He was a cop, after all. Roger DeJong had neatly fingered Dean Oliver. Roger DeJong knew that I was nosing around and talking to Dimitri. He’d have figured it was a matter of time until I talked to people on Friesen or Potter Street and found a witness to the fact he’d been there on the day of Anabel’s death. I dashed from the car, scrambled along the sidewalk, and peeked through the slot in the fence. A convenient flash of lightning lit the sky. Sure enough. This time, I’d figured it out. In the darkened area I saw Nick, on all fours, pleading with Officer Roger DeJong. Another person lay crumpled in a dark heap. I could see enough of his face to identify my smart young officer, Dean Oliver. I thought I could see dark blood pooled around his head and a long gash marring his forehead. DeJong really liked that baton. Had DeJong killed Dean Oliver? Was he now setting Nick up to take the rap? I’d been too stupid to see what was happening. DeJong had his weapon trained on Nick and was holding the squirming Little Nick in the crook of the other arm.

  My cell phone trilled. I flipped it open, trying to keep the noise from distracting DeJong. I ducked to the right, hoping I was out of his earshot.

  Thalia said, “Jane tells me there are already two police cars on Potter Street by the site.”

  A shot rang out. I was pretty sure it would have gotten me if I hadn’t moved. I said, “It’s not official police business for sure. The dispatcher won’t know that they’re there. Tell them officer down.”

  Thalia said, “That will bring the cavalry.”

  I moved away from the Friesen Street entrance and crept down the alley and out onto Potter Street. I scrambled along by the two police cars, pausing to let the air out of the tires, something that Pepper and I had amused ourselves doing once or twice as preteens. Of course, we hadn’t chosen squad cars for our pranks. The sight of a little yellow toy duck lying in a puddle reminded me how deadly serious this was.

  I stood on Potter Street and looked up. Faces showed in the lit windows behind me.

  I moved off to the side, shielded by the wall of the attached building, in case he decided to fire another shot. “Roger,” I shouted. “Give it up. The cops know what you’ve done. Don’t make it any worse. This time it would be premeditated, not an accident. Let Nick and the baby go.”

  “Nobody knows.” Roger DeJong’s voice. Finally, I’d gotten something right.

  My heart was thundering, because I knew that in my subsequent bluff, I could easily go wrong again and blow it. If so, Nick and the baby and Dean Oliver would pay the price. I hoped none of my lies were too obvious.

  “Listen, Roger. They know that you tricked Nick into going to the storage area, where you knocked him out, and then you took his cruiser to meet Pepper at Bakker Beach. They’ve got forensic evidence to link you to that and to the attack on Pepper. It was all to frame Nick, wasn’t it, so he wouldn’t finger you for Anabel Beauchamp’s death. I’m sure you can make the case that was an accident. No one will take Nick seriously. You can minimize the damage.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  More bluffing. “You have Dean Oliver back there, injured or possibly dead. And once again you plan to frame Nick.”

  Nick’s voice, high and panicked, shot back, “Don’t make things worse. He’ll hurt Little Nick. He’s been threatening me since just after that girl died. It took me a while to figure it all out, but he was already here on the site at the time.
I was just on patrol and I happened by right as the 911 call came in. I guess he could tell by looking at me afterward that I knew what that meant. He told me he’d have Pepper and Little Nick killed if I accused him. And he said he had stuff on me, and I guess he did, and he swore he’d make sure my word was worthless. I had to keep quiet, but, Charley, I kept seeing that girl drowned and knowing he did it. I dream about it. And look, he did try to kill Pepper and make it look like it was me.”

  This was no time to suggest that if Nick had confided in his wife—who was ten times smarter than he was—none of this would have happened, except for Anabel’s death.

  “Nick, listen to me!”

  “No. I’ll do what he wants. I’m the problem. It has to look like I’m a killer. He’ll let Little Nick go, but he’ll kill me and claim that it was to protect Dean. Dean’s toast, too. He’s bleeding out, so he won’t be able to talk. And DeJong is a hero, saving the baby. He’ll come after you, too, and Pepper.”

  “I don’t think he will shoot you, Nick. At this point there are many, many witnesses and not just me. Keeping you two alive is the only chance he has to save himself now. Trust me, he can’t get away. Roger, I need you to listen to me. There must be a hundred eyes on you here. Every resident of this area has a light on and is watching. People have cell phone cameras and video cameras. You can’t shoot them all. You won’t be able to leave without plenty of witnesses. It’s over. Give the baby to Nick. You can explain the rest, but not if something happens to Nick or the baby.”

  There was no freakin’ chance this creep could explain his way out of his crimes, but I was on a roll.

  “Do it!” I yelled. “I can hear the sirens. It’s all over, Roger.”

  The next sound I heard was a sharp scream from Nick, then a splash. Was that a second splash? I wasn’t sure. The gate to the site swung inward and DeJong emerged, firing his weapon in a seemingly random arc. He leaped into the first squad car and rocketed away. Sirens were coming closer. I didn’t figure he’d get far with flat tires. I dashed through the gate to find Nick floating facedown in the watery foundation. The baby was nowhere to be seen. In a moment of horror, I realized what the second splash had meant. I had no choice but to jump into the water. I struggled to turn Nick over, get his face out of the water, and prop him against the slippery wooden wall. He was unconscious. The blood streaming from his forehead told me why. I bent down and crawled through the filthy murk, feeling around for the baby, splashing and shouting for help as I did. Seconds felt like hours until I made contact with something round and soft and moving. Little Nick! I lifted him up. He didn’t cry. A bad sign. At the edge of the foundation, a head appeared. A smart young head with a gash on it. Dean Oliver.

  At the same moment, I watched as the unconscious Nick flopped forward face-first into the water.

  I shouted, “Mouth-to-mouth to the baby, fast, while I help Nick.”

  Turned out that was a good move. I could apologize to him later.

  The WINY media van had a field day with me. I looked like what my mother would call the Creature from the Black Lagoon. Gripping footage that. But who gave a hoot? Little Nick, his father, and Dean Oliver were all alive. Even though we didn’t yet know that Roger DeJong had been stopped at the end of Potter Street by a pair of squad cars, it was already a good news story.

  25

  Frustrated by fumbling for clothes in the dark confines of your closet? Install an inexpensive stick-on LED light inside the closet and make your life a lot easier.

  I rang the Beauchamps’ doorbell three days later. Harry was gracious, although he did say, “Well Charlotte honey, you sure do look a lot prettier today than you did the other night on television.”

  “The story of my life, Harry. I’m used to it now.”

  “It was pretty shocking news we heard. A policeman killing our little girl.”

  “Yes. They’ve arrested him, and I believe they’ll make those charges stick. And of course, he was the officer who was supposed to talk to the neighborhood witnesses after her death. No wonder the police appeared not to follow up. Luckily some of the folks on the street will make good witnesses.”

  “Well, I guess it turned out Lorelei was right after all. I’ll be making amends for that. I feel sorry I doubted her mother’s intuition.”

  “If it’s any consolation, I didn’t believe it, either. I was only trying to prove that it had been an accident. If my friends hadn’t been involved, I would have left it at that. Do you mind if I speak to her alone for a minute?”

  “Sure thing. She’s in the living room. Champagne cocktail for you? It’s June Sparkle today.”

  “No thanks, Harry. Nothing for me.”

  I found Lorelei at the vast window gazing at the Hudson River. I stood beside her for a couple of minutes. I could only imagine how she was feeling. Finally I reached out and up and gave her a hug. “You didn’t cause Anabel’s death, Lorelei. I believe it was a fluke of timing that she went behind the gate and spotted DeJong talking to one of the criminals he dealt with. Anabel would have recognized him and she would have been well aware of who his cozy criminal contact was, although DeJong hasn’t revealed that. He’s probably afraid for his own life, now that he’s in jail. Anabel must have concluded he was on the take. Perhaps she saw money changing hands, although I can’t prove that. DeJong knew Anabel was fierce enough to make sure it would all come out. He knew she was fearless. She would have gone to the police, to the media, whatever it would take. She was a brave and splendid woman, a daughter to be proud of.”

  Naturally, I didn’t talk about the specifics of my theory that DeJong must have struggled with Anabel, while his criminal contact left the scene. I had a horrible image of him knocking her out before pushing her from the slippery walkway into the brackish water to drown, solving his problem until Nick blundered in. I knew the police believed this was what happened, but no mother needed to envision that dreadful scene.

  I’d never seen tears in Lorelei’s eyes before. “I did cause her death, though. She chose to duck behind that fence so I wouldn’t see her. She didn’t want me to interfere in her wedding. And I couldn’t let it alone. I had to go down there to plead the case for a long white gown and rose petals and violins. It was because I loved her. I thought I knew what was best.”

  And perhaps you wanted a more suitable groom, I thought. I kept my mouth shut, though. Whatever else I’d believed in the past, I knew that Lorelei had loved Anabel, not in the totally accepting way that Harry did, but it was love anyway. I wondered if she could ever share with Harry her part in the tragedy. I was glad it wasn’t up to me.

  “It wasn’t your fault, Lorelei,” I said again. Even though I knew she’d never believe me. “If you hadn’t pushed the point, I never would have followed up and DeJong would have gotten away with murder.”

  I did take a moment to talk to Harry on my way out. “This boy Dimitri was very special for Anabel. I hope you will spend some time with him and support the work that Anabel was doing with Hope for Youth at Risk. Maybe in time Lorelei will take part, too.”

  “Of course, Charlotte darlin’,” he said. “That will be Anabel’s legacy.”

  I didn’t stay long. I had a delivery to make. I had two boxes of black-and-white fudge, one for Thalia Waverman and one for Jane Cantley. They truly deserved a reward.

  The Hudson was flowing fast as I stood alone on the shores by Bakker Beach. The June rains meant high, roiling water. I can always understand the fascination of the river. It’s a good place to think. I had lots on my mind, mostly questions. Pepper was on the mend, although it would take a while. She and Nick were working on what she called “trust issues.” Little Nick showed no negative effect from his minute or two under the filthy water, although Sally and Benjamin were keeping experienced eyes on him. I wondered if Nick’s idiotic behavior attempting to evade Roger DeJong would mean the end of his career in the police. He was still going through interviews. Three generations of Monahans on the Woodbridge force might not
be enough to salvage his job.

  Sally and Margaret were planning a misfit party as soon as Pepper was out of the hospital. Negotiations were underway to see if spouses would be included. The fun never ends.

  In the meantime, I had plenty to do to make up for a practically workless week. Lilith and I had a date with Wendy to show her the altered yellow skirt and take some “after” photos of the closet project. I imagined Seth would be around, tripping over his feet.

  I had three messages from Tierney asking for a truce and suggesting dinner. I had already decided not to say “yes” to truce and “no” to dinner. In the hospital I had managed to apologize to Dean Oliver for falling for DeJong’s trickery and for believing he could be a villain. He’d said we were even, as I’d saved his life. Like Jack he had a head injury that wasn’t expected to do any lasting damage.

  Jack was already back at CYCotics taking care of business; the stitches in his forehead seemed to go well with the swaying palms on the latest Hawaiian shirt. I’d never mentioned his secret stash of photos in his closet, but I thought I’d figured out what it meant.

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the small silk-covered box with the secret I’d kept in my own closet for the past two years. It was time to let the past go and start trusting again. Ready to stop looking to the wrong kind of man. More important, I was prepared to see what was right in front of my eyes. This time, I really, actually, truly did toss that square-cut diamond solitaire into the Hudson. Two years earlier, I’d tossed a stone into the Hudson, pretended it was the ring, and enjoyed the dramatic impact on my lying hound of an ex-fiancé. It had felt good at the time, but I hadn’t done myself any favors hanging on to it. Now it felt a whole lot better to get it out of my life.

  Half an hour later, I was sporting a wide grin as I used my foot to push open the door to CYCotics. I was juggling a tray of jumbo lattes and three sandwiches from Ciao! Ciao! Mozzarella, roasted red peppers, and Genoa salami on Tuscan bread.