Body of Lies

by Deirdre Savoy

“Yean, pretty much,” Alex had to agree, though she hoped Stevie’s motivation for thinking so was different from her own.

  “I mean, he thinks he knows everything and every guy I know is terrified of him.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  She shrugged. “Uncle Zach is all right, though, most of the time.”

  Alex supposed that most of the time didn’t include when he’d walked in on her. Alex studied the girl’s face a moment. Despite the turn of the conversation, she suspected Stevie was well loved and cared for. Her malaise was probably situational, predicated on whatever problem had led her to staying with her uncle instead of at home. And if Alex read her right, protective feelings for her uncle had led her to question Alex, not pure nosiness. But since Alex was a cop’s kid, Stevie apparently figured she was okay.

  Alex swallowed another bite of waffle. “How long have you been staying with your uncle?”

  “Just a few days. But he’s never here. He’s working on some case.”

  And providing her none of the attention she needed to get from somewhere. “You knew he was on his way home yesterday, didn’t you?”

  Stevie’s eyes widened. “Yeah. I called the station house and they said he was on his way. How did you know?”

  Alex shrugged. “You don’t seem that stupid to me.”

  Stevie laughed. “Are you trying to get something going with my uncle?”

  That veered into none-of-your-business territory, but Alex was curious as to whether Stevie thought that was a good idea or not. “I don’t know. Should I?”

  Stevie tilted her head to one side and bit her lower lip, contemplating her answer. She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “I think my dad thinks he cheated on his ex-wife.”

  Zach had been married? She didn’t know why that information surprised her. Few decent men in their late thirties survived without being snared by some woman. “But you don’t think so?”

  Stevie shook her head. “I don’t know. I thought he really loved her, and she was, well ...”

  “What?”

  “Did you ever go to the zoo and see the baby monkeys clinging to their mothers’ neck? That’s what she reminded me of.”

  Alex couldn’t resist a chuckle. “Too needy?”

  “Way too. Not that it’s any of my business.”

  True, but Alex wondered at the reversal in the girl’s attitude. She had her answer a moment later when she felt Zach’s hand at the back of her chair.

  “What are you two talking about down here?”

  She looked up at him. There was a smile on his face, but whatever sleep he’d gotten hadn’t completely erased the look of fatigue from his face. Or maybe he was still half asleep. He still looked damn good, but he was waiting for an answer.

  She glanced at Stevie. The girl had obviously shifted gears knowing Zach approached and wanted to make it appear that Alex had been the one asking questions in case Zach heard them. Smart girl. Alex wouldn’t give her away—this time. “Just girl talk.”

  From the look on Zach’s face, Alex knew he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t challenge what she said either.

  “Do you want some breakfast, Uncle Zach?” Stevie vacated her seat. “I can make you some waffles.”

  “Sure.” Zach went over to the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup. “Try not to burn mine.”

  Stevie laughed. “I can’t make any guarantees.”

  Alex watched Zach, who added a bit of milk to his coffee but no sugar. When he looked up he winked at her. Alex tilted her head to the side considering him. She’d known last night would serve as some sort of turning point between them. She’d wanted to end the hostility between them, or rather her hostility toward him. But considering their stilted attempts at conversation last night, she hadn’t expected either of them to be at ease with each other so quickly, either.

  Then it occurred to her what that wink meant: He’d been listening the whole time. How else could he have known about her waffles being burned? Stevie had placed them on her plate briquette-side down. He must have come down right behind her, but he hadn’t made a sound. He’d probably only made his presence known out of fear that Stevie would divulge even more personal information.

  Once Stevie had finished preparing her uncle’s meal, she claimed to need to get dressed and left. Alex pushed her plate away and sat back. “Is everyone in your family as devious as the two of you?”

  “Actually, no. By the way, if you ever do try to start something up with me, let me know. I’ll help you out.”

  He was teasing her, which seemed to be a means of distracting her from what Stevie’d said. Of course, that only made her more curious. “Is what she said true? About your marriage, I mean?”

  “Yes. Her father believes I cheated on my wife. So does most of the rest of my family.”

  He’d misunderstood her. She’d been referring to the apparent unhappiness of it. No one could be content while another human kept a stranglehold on them. She’d learned that firsthand. But she noticed he hadn’t told her what was true, only what was believed. He left her to think what she wanted. She should have obeyed her first instinct and left the subject alone.

  “I shouldn’t have asked that.”

  He put his fork down and sat back. “It’s all right. I don’t mean to make this a bigger deal than it was. We were together for a couple of years, separated for more than twice that. She finally got around to divorcing me last year so she could marry someone else.”

  He spoke as if what he said should answer all questions on the topic. It didn’t, but she was willing to let it go. “So what’s on the menu for tonight?”

  “I have no idea. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  There was a man for you. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take care of it. I’d rather not get indigestion from your cooking or burnt offerings from your niece.”

  She’d been teasing him this time, but he didn’t take the bait. “Be my guest. If you need anything I’ll get it for you.” He rose from the table and put his plate in the sink. “I’d better get dressed. I’ll be down to do the dishes in a minute.”

  She looked after him as he walked out the kitchen. “Way to go, Alex,” she said aloud. Whatever little bit of camaraderie they’d shared for a moment she’d destroyed with her curiosity. She should have known she had to be the last person he’d want to discuss his failures with, but her nature was to probe the layers to see what lay beneath the surface. It’s what made her a good psychologist. But she should have kept it to herself that time.

  She got up from the table and did the dishes Zach had promised to do.

  The doorbell rang for the first time at five o’clock. Zach wasn’t surprised to find that Adam and Barbara were the first to arrive. They always were, regardless of the occasion. Barbara greeted him with a kiss to the cheek. “How’s my baby?”

  “She’s fine. She’s in the kitchen.”

  Barbara excused herself and went to find her daughter, pulling her son reluctantly behind her.

  When she’d gone, Zach turned to his brother. Something about Adam’s demeanor with his wife suggested things between them had changed. “How are things going with Barbara?”

  “Better, in a manner of speaking. Stevie told me you brought some woman home last night.”

  Zach ground his teeth together. He hoped the night ended before he had to throttle his niece. “She’s not some woman. Her name is Alex Waters. She’s Sammy the Bull’s daughter.”

  Adam’s response was a low whistle. “She’s involved with this whole Amazon thing with you, isn’t she?”

  Zach nodded. “It was kept out of the papers, but Thorpe contacted her yesterday. I didn’t think she should be at her place alone.”

  “I agree with you.” Adam patted him on the shoulder, which was as close to an apology as he was going to get. “How’s she doing?”

  “Alex? She’s Sammy’s daughter. She made lasagna.”

  Adam snorted. “I think I like her. How long
have you been sleeping with her?”

  The doorbell rang again. Zach excused himself from his brother without bothering to give an answer and doubled back toward the door. It was going to be a long night.

  No day was sacrosanct on the calendar of a detective, no birthday, no holiday, no anniversary celebration. Despite it being a perfectly good Sunday night, McKay found himself picking through the detritus of an abandoned one-story house by the train tracks running behind Co-op City.

  The place was little more than a shack now, with a tumbledown appearance from the outside and filth and decay on the inside. When they’d opened the front door, the smell had hit them, driving a few of the younger officers back. It was the smell of fetidness and rank dampness coming off the surrounding waters. It wouldn’t surprise him to find Thorpe in here dead, since there was the smell of that, too, here.

  McKay stepped over the threshold into a sea of garbage. Old, broken, and rotted furniture, moldy clothing, spent condoms, chips of peeled paint, and other articles he couldn’t identify littered the floor. Something scurried at his feet, probably mice or rats, but in this area it could be raccoons or possums as well.

  Even before he’d come in, a perimeter of lights had been set up outside the house. A search team had done a quick sweep looking for anything live and human and found nothing. A series of lights had been set up on the inside as well, but anything could be hiding in this mess, anyone. Or no one.

  That was McKay’s fear—that Thorpe was playing games again, making them waste their time on a fool’s errand, digging through dirt and slime to come back empty-handed. He’d been skeptical since the call first came in through the switchboard. The caller had asked for him personally, which was the only reason he’d picked it up.

  “I know where that guy you’re looking for is at,” the caller had said without preamble.

  “Which guy?” McKay had asked, even though he’d already been told what the call was about.

  “Thorpe. Walter Thorpe. I was with him today.”

  Despite himself, adrenaline started to flow at the mention of Thorpe’s name. He knew better. How many calls had they logged in that provided information that went nowhere? “Where were you with him, Mr... . ?” McKay prompted.

  “I don’t have to give no name, do I?”

  That dampened his enthusiasm a little. People willing to give their names were more credible than those who weren’t. “No. Where were you?”

  “I don’t know the address.” But he went on to describe the little house out in the middle of nowhere. That got him going again. They’d all assumed Thorpe was hiding out somewhere remote. The information fit in with what they knew.

  “How do you know Walter Thorpe?” he’d asked next, but the line had gone dead. Regardless, a mixture of anticipation and hope had begun to stir in his belly.

  Now, standing in this filth, he didn’t know what to expect. An excited voice called from the other room, “Detective, you gotta see this.”

  He stepped over the debris to find the voice. Several of the officers were standing grouped together staring at something farther inside the room. He made his way inside, and found what they were looking at. A nude body lay among the debris, its skin looking more mummified than decayed. It was impossible to tell how long the person had been dead, though he suspected the body had been dumped here not too long ago. Otherwise the four-legged friends would have picked it clean by now.

  Three things struck him as he looked down at the body: The mouth had been sewn shut. The genitals were missing. So was the middle finger of the right hand.

  Eighteen

  After the meal, Zach sat in his first-floor office facing his older brother. This tête-â-tête had been Adam’s idea, but so far he hadn’t said a word. Adam had said things at home had improved, and Zach had noticed how solicitous he had been toward his wife during dinner, so he was partially mollified on that account. But since Zach didn’t want to leave Alex alone with the rest of his family too long, he figured he’d get the conversation rolling. “You and Barbara are getting along better.”

  “She wasn’t having an affair.”

  Zach let out a relieved sigh, not that he ever thought she had been. He was just glad his brother realized that. “Then what’s the problem?”

  “She was seeing someone. A doctor. She’s got cancer.”

  Zach hadn’t expected that, but he didn’t immediately think the worst. With early detection, the disease wasn’t necessarily a death sentence. He wondered briefly what Alex would think of that bit of optimism on his part. “Where? Breast?” Seeing the ravaged look that came over his brother’s face, Zach guessed his optimism was misplaced.

  “Pancreas. Her mother died of the same thing.”

  Zach didn’t know what to say to that. No platitudes sprang to mind, not that Adam would have believed them coming from his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

  Adam nodded. “I noticed her losing weight, but I thought she was doing it to please some man.”

  “You can’t beat yourself up about that. Barbara could have told you what was going on.”

  “Looking back, I think she did try to tell me a couple of times. I can be a bit of an ass sometimes.”

  “I’ve noticed.” Zach leaned back in his chair. “What’s her prognosis?”

  “Not good. Five-year survival rates can be in the single digits.”

  Damn. Knowing his brother, Adam was probably focusing on the most negative statistics rather than the more positive ones. Still it didn’t sound good.

  “Do the kids know?”

  Adam shook his head. “We’re going to take Stevie home with us tonight. We’re thinking of keeping them both home from school tomorrow so we can discuss it.”

  “If there’s anything I can do.”

  “You already have. Stevie was the only one paying attention. She knew something was wrong with her mother and wouldn’t let her be so that she could come to terms with it—or tell me.”

  Obviously Adam wasn’t going to take his advice about not blaming himself. “You’re there for her now.”

  Adam shrugged and stood. “I’m going to collect my family and go home.”

  “Can I do anything to help?”

  Alex had noticed Joanna go upstairs with the baby, diaper bag slung over her arm, and followed. Joanna had taken the baby to Zach’s room and laid her down on his bed. It was the first time Alex had seen his room. The king-sized bed didn’t surprise her. The neatness and airiness of the room did.

  Joanna glanced back at her over her shoulder. “Not unless you can make babies stop pooping.”

  Alex chuckled. Joanna moved with the smoothness and efficiency with which one might expect a nurse to change a diaper. Alex sat on the bed far enough away from the baby not to be in the way. “She’s a beautiful girl.”

  Joanna paused a moment, staring down at her daughter. “She looks like her father.” Joanna shifted her gaze to look at Alex. “I suppose Zach told you what happened.”

  “A little bit.”

  “Did they send you up here to talk to me?”

  “Not exactly, but I do know Zach is concerned about you.”

  Joanna adjusted her daughter’s stockings over the clean diaper. “Yeah, I know. Everyone’s concerned. I’m concerned. I thought I would have gotten myself together by now.”

  “Depression can be a hard thing to cope with on your own.”

  “Who’s depressed?” She gave a short, mirthless burst of laughter. “I’m angry. I’m angry at my stupid husband for not telling me he’d gotten involved in something as a kid that would get him killed as an adult. I’m angry at myself for letting this happen again. I raised my two boys mostly alone. I never wanted to go through that again. But here I am. If I’m quiet it’s because I have nowhere to put that anger. I feel like if I open my mouth it will all come spilling out and no one wants to deal with a constantly screaming virago of a woman.”

  “You mean, like now?”

  Joanna smiled, as Alex hoped she wo
uld. “You could say that.”

  “You can come scream at me in my office if you like. I won’t be there next week, but after.”

  Joanna picked up her daughter, who was busy trying to crawl away. “I think I’d like that. Thank you.”

  “A girl’s got to drum up business somehow.”

  Joanna eyed her shrewdly. “You don’t let my brother get away with anything, do you?”

  Unsure how to answer that, or if she wanted to answer that, she asked, “What do you mean?”

  Joanna shot her a droll look. “We’re both girls here. We know what kind of men my brothers are. They ride right over whatever they don’t want to hear or see or face. Sometimes you get run over too if you’re not paying attention. Zach is the least guilty of the three of them, but he’s still a Stone.”

  Joanna adjusted her daughter on her shoulder. “I was opposed to Dana and Jonathan getting together at first. That seemed like the immovable force meeting the rolling object. But I think you can handle yourself.” Joanna winked at her. “It’s time I got my brood together and got home.”

  Fifteen minutes later, they had all had made their good-byes. Zach closed the door behind the last of them—Jonathan and Dana—then returned to the kitchen. Alex stood at the sink finishing the last of the dishes. He came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. This time she didn’t flinch. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know, but I’ve only got a couple of glasses to go.”

  Looking down at her, he felt the urge to lower his head and nuzzle her neck assailing him. Hell, he wanted more than that, but it would be a start. But since he had no idea how she would take that he backed away to lean his shoulder against the archway leading to the dining room. “Thanks for tonight.” She’d been sandwiched between his two brothers during dinner. He’d spare even a mortal enemy that fate. “I hope they didn’t bore you to death.”

  “Not at all. I like your brothers.”

  “Then you must have been taking your own happy pills.”

  She laughed. “No, I have not. I spoke to Joanna, too.”