“Coming back to Bolton was very risky. Until this evening Cornelia had a good head start on us.”
Ryan handed Macy an evidence bag containing a cell phone. “I found this earlier. It looks like they were keeping in touch.”
The last message Tess received was still on the screen.
DON’T WORRY. I’M COMING BACK FOR YOU. I WON’T LET YOU DOWN THIS TIME.
Macy checked the timing on the message. It had been sent six hours earlier. All the other texts had been erased.
“Tess lied when she said Cornelia was here on the night of the fire. These sliding glass doors open out onto a common area and the parking lot is what? Another hundred yards away? It was late. Cornelia could have come and gone without anyone noticing.”
“How come we didn’t know Tess Manning and Cornelia Hart were close?” asked Ryan.
“Cornelia isn’t listed as Tess Manning’s next of kin, and though Cornelia is down as an emergency contact for Tess, she’s also the emergency contact for several other patients here. It was only by chance that Cornelia’s ex-husband mentioned Tess by name.”
“Cornelia almost got away with it.”
“She’s the type of woman who would have blended in most anywhere. We would have struggled to find her.” Macy had been going over all her past interactions with Cornelia, but there’d never been anything suspicious in the woman’s behavior. “I never once suspected her,” she said.
“Did she tell you what happened at Peter’s house?”
“Not in great detail, but I think I got the gist of it. She’d only meant to make him listen but he wouldn’t even look her in the eye. At some point she lost it and pulled a gun. Once that happened, things quickly spiraled out of control.”
“Why did she have a gun with her in the first place?”
“She says it was in her car. Instead of going home after the meeting she came back to his office, held him at gunpoint, and taped him to the chair so he’d listen to her.”
“I guess that’s one approach to mindfulness. Doesn’t explain how his and Taylor Moore’s bodies ended up in the same bed,” said Ryan.
“I admit there are still a few holes in the story. I still don’t know how she managed to move Peter from his office to the house on Madison without being seen. She claims he tried to get away and she hit him on the head with a cast-iron frying pan,” said Macy.
“That would explain why his skull was caved in. And Taylor?”
“She showed up when Cornelia was trying to drag his body upstairs. There was a struggle and Taylor fell from the first-floor landing.”
“It’s like something out of a dark comedy,” said Ryan.
“Except nobody is laughing.”
“A lot of people will see Cornelia as a hero once the truth about Peter Granger comes out.”
Macy suppressed a yawn. “She’s not a hero, she’s a murderer. I have no patience and even less sympathy.”
He checked the time. “It’s ten thirty and my team is stuck in a snowdrift somewhere. Do you want to help me process this mess so we can go get a drink?”
She held up her gloved hands. “I’m all yours. Tell me where to start.”
21
Tuesday
The snowbound campus sparkled beneath late-afternoon sunshine that filtered through the gallery’s north-facing windows. The turnout for the student art show was unusually high. For the most part the crowd was comprised of faculty members, parents, and students, but several of Grace’s friends had shown up, including her colleagues from the café. Steve was noticeably absent but he’d called to wish her luck. The strange group of artists she’d met a few nights earlier was also in attendance. The man with the beard and mustache had reintroduced himself and the rest of the group before handing her a silver flask.
“It’s gin,” he’d explained. “You may need it for later.”
There’d been a note attached.
Congratulations from your new best friend. Love, Charlie
Grace was too preoccupied to enjoy the praise her work was receiving. Macy Greeley was standing a few feet away and her presence in the gallery was making Grace nervous. Each time Macy took a step forward, Grace took a step back. It was as if they were having a secret dance, but then the music stopped and the detective remained rooted to one spot. The painting that caught Macy’s eye was of a man crucified in the tree branches arching above the Flathead River.
“There is a sketch of this same scene hanging in Peter Granger’s office,” said Macy.
Macy’s voice seemed to come out of nowhere. For a second Grace thought she might have been imagining things. She felt obliged to check. They faced each other for the first time.
“Pardon?” said Grace.
Macy kept her voice low. “There is a sketch of this same scene hanging in Peter Granger’s office.”
“I never gave…” Grace stopped speaking when she realized what must have happened. She felt as if she might be sick. Her voice faded. “It must have been Lara.”
Macy reached out and touched Grace’s sleeve. “Why am I not surprised? Have you heard from her?”
“Not since she left on Sunday.”
“It’s probably for the best. She took advantage of you.”
“Only because I let her. Nothing will change unless I do,” said Grace.
“I’m sorry if this sounds harsh, but you don’t get points for realizing you have an issue. You’ve got to do the hard work now. It’s up to you to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“That may be so, but I’m not giving up on Lara yet completely. She told me she was going to work hard to regain my trust. I want to believe it’s true.”
“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” said Macy.
Grace felt oddly exposed when she was in Macy’s company. Everyone else in her life would happily settle for a quick reinvention, but Macy had seen the raw material. She was the only one left who really knew how far Grace still had to go.
“A year ago I wouldn’t have lasted in a situation like this for more than five minutes, so I guess that’s something.” Grace closed her eyes for a few seconds. “That’s one good thing Lara did. She showed me how to be brave.”
“Grace, you were always brave.” Macy focused in on the next painting. “This is a beautiful portrait of your aunt. She would have been proud of you.”
Grace looked down at the floor. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t cry. Macy was speaking so softly Grace had to lean in.
“I had a look at the book Peter was writing about you. It will never see the light of day, but I still think you should read it.”
“That man stole so much from me.”
Macy looked confused. “Are you still talking about the sketch?” she asked.
“No, I’m talking about something far more intangible … like my soul. He pinned it down in a book just like he pinned all those girls down in photographs.”
“They weren’t girls, they were women.”
Grace shook her head. “He’d stripped them of their clothing, identity, and voice. They couldn’t be women on those terms. Women would have been too much of a challenge for him. Peter Granger, Jordan Beech, and those men back in Collier … they’re all the same. They’re cowards.”
“I’d like to think there are good men out there too,” said Macy.
“You don’t sound so sure. Are you trying to convince yourself or me?”
“Both of us. It’s been a long time, but I’m starting to feel hopeful.”
Macy stood in front of the last painting. A mother and her newborn baby were propped up in a hospital bed. Grace held her breath the entire time Macy stared at it. Macy read the title aloud.
“Madonna and Child.”
“I hope you’re not angry,” said Grace.
“Far from it. I’m actually flattered, but I think you may have me all wrong. I’m many things, but a mother figure isn’t one of them.”
“I saw how you were with your son.”
“When
was this?”
“In the park last Saturday. I was walking my dog.”
“A couple hours a weekend doesn’t count. I’m away all the time for work. Luke is young now, but someday he’s going to want to know why I wasn’t around more.”
“I grew up without a mother. In my eyes Luke is spoiled.”
Macy half smiled. “When the day comes, I’ll be sure to tell him that.”
“Detective Greeley, why are you really here?”
Macy was quiet for a long while. When she spoke she sounded a little sad.
“I suppose I needed to see that you’re going to be okay, that something good came out of that mess that happened in Collier. When I interviewed you the other day I got the impression that you were struggling, yet here you are. As I’ve walked around I’ve overheard what people are saying about your work and about you and it’s all good. You’ve made this amazing new life for yourself. I don’t get to see many positive outcomes in my line of work. I guess I needed to feel hopeful.”
Macy held out her hand and Grace took hold of it.
“Grace, you’re incredibly talented. You should feel very proud of yourself.”
Grace didn’t know what to say. She felt Macy’s fingers slip away. Macy was leaving. There was a tap on her shoulder and Grace turned to see Clare. She wasn’t wearing a hat. Her head was clean-shaven. They held each other for a long time. When Grace looked again Macy was gone.
22
Wednesday
Macy sat on a barstool, scrolling through her messages. The Gallatin Bar & Grill was getting noisier as the evening went on. Any local who could get the time off work had been skiing in powder for the past three days, so there was a lot goodwill in the air. It was Macy’s last night in Bolton. In the morning she’d be returning to Helena. She looked up from her phone and scanned the crowd. Alisa was almost unrecognizable out of uniform, and it wasn’t just the high-heeled boots and miniskirt. Her hair and makeup were done on a level Macy hadn’t expected. Alisa moved through the room completely unaware of the attention she was receiving. Macy removed her bag from the barstool she’d been saving and smiled.
“Wow. You look gorgeous,” said Macy.
Alisa touched her hair gently. “It’s going to take some getting used to. My girlfriends were fed up with me dressing like a boy so they staged an intervention.”
“It’s quite a transformation.” Macy waved the bartender over. “I’m having a glass of red. What can I get you?”
Alisa removed her wallet from her handbag but Macy shook her head.
“Tonight is on me. Pick your poison.”
“You don’t have to…”
“I insist. Just don’t order the Dom Perignon.”
Alisa gave her a blank look. “I don’t know even know what that is.”
The bartender approached to take Alisa’s order but then suggested a full bottle when Alisa also said she was drinking red wine. Macy asked to see the wine menu.
“I thought Ryan was joining us,” said Alisa.
“He had to get back to Helena. He has a court appearance in the morning.”
“You guys never seem to stop working.”
“Sometimes it seems that way. Cornelia Hart has confessed to all charges, which makes all our lives a lot easier. Not that it matters. I’m sure the state will find another way for me to spend my time.”
“Cornelia Hart is the world’s most unlikely villain.”
“It really goes to show that all it takes is one bad decision for your life to spiral out of control,” said Macy.
“She’s not very physically fit. I’m surprised she managed.”
“I imagine desperation played a big part.”
“If Hannah Granger hadn’t been stuck at the cabin, she’d be dead too,” said Alisa.
“Small mercies. Cornelia only came back to Bolton because Tess begged her.”
“I’m not sure I believe that.”
“It’s true. We have the messages Tess sent to Cornelia’s phone. She wanted to die. It was the deal they made when Tess provided an alibi, but Cornelia left town without honoring her end of the bargain.”
“That’s crazy.”
Macy took a long drink of wine before turning her attention to the wine menu that had been placed in front of her.
“I had a good look at Peter Granger’s so-called crime novel. It’s nearly one-hundred-twenty-thousand-words long and he couldn’t have published it without Grace’s permission, yet he kept on writing. Also crazy,” said Macy.
“Maybe he was confident she’d change her mind.”
“That confidence was misplaced. Grace was never going to agree to it.”
“I don’t know what to do with his books. It feels wrong to destroy them, but I can’t give them to charity either.”
“Good thing I just have the one then,” said Macy.
Macy sat up a little taller in the barstool. Her lower back was killing her. They had a table reserved for eight o’clock. She checked the time. It was only half past seven.
“It will be interesting to see how many women we’re able to identify in those Polaroids. Brad told me they were going to appeal directly to the public,” said Alisa.
“I’m not sure I agree with that strategy. You’re going to get an avalanche of phone calls, most of them useless.”
“Maybe he should…”
Alisa stopped speaking. She craned her neck. Macy followed her gaze. Brad Hastings and a woman Macy assumed was his wife were approaching the bar. They were arm in arm and laughing. He pulled his wife close and kissed her on the cheek. He spotted Macy and Alisa and his smile faded for the briefest of moments. He rearranged his features. The smile was back, but there was caution in his eyes. His wife placed her hands protectively across her belly. It looked like she was in her second trimester of pregnancy. The silence went on for a few beats too long. Macy took charge of the introductions.
“Brad, this is a wonderful surprise. This must be your wife.”
Brad’s wife held out a hand. It was warm and powder dry. “Sasha,” she said. “It’s a real pleasure to meet you. We met your son Luke when we had dinner with Aiden on Saturday. Such a sweetheart.” Sasha looked at Alisa properly for the first time. There was the slightest hesitation before she smiled. “Alisa, I’m so used to seeing you in uniform I almost didn’t recognize you.”
Macy couldn’t keep her eyes off Brad. His eyes were darting from Alisa to his wife. If he kept it up he’d go cross-eyed.
Alisa blushed. “You’re looking well.… Pregnancy suits you.”
Sasha’s hands had migrated back to her bump. “We couldn’t be happier.”
Brad cleared his throat. “I should go see about our table.”
Sasha put a hand on his arm. “Don’t be silly. Our reservation isn’t until eight. Let’s stay and chat for a while. Another month and I won’t be able to stand in a bar without people giving me the evil eye.”
Macy checked the time. “Actually, we’re the ones that need to make a move. We have a table booked at the North Street Bistro.”
Sasha nodded approvingly. “You’re so lucky to get a reservation there. I hear the food is wonderful.”
The bartender came over to take Macy’s order. She leaned in close so she could talk to him without the others overhearing. Macy slipped off her barstool and grabbed her coat. Alisa was already bundled up and ready to bolt. She, Brad, and Sasha were trying but failing to make small talk.
Macy wished Brad and his wife a good evening before taking Alisa by the arm and steering her to the door. It was a clear evening and the wind was still. The temperatures outside had plummeted.
“Come on,” said Macy. “If I remember correctly, there’s a really good Chinese restaurant near campus.”
Alisa stopped in her tracks. “How did you know about me and Brad?”
“I saw him leaving the grocery store on Friday night. I assume the wine and chocolates were for you.”
“I feel so ashamed.”
�
�I’ve done pretty much the same thing so I’m in no position to judge, but other people will. You might think you’re being careful, but it will come out eventually and we both know who will get the blame.” Macy pointed to the restaurant they’d just left. “I’m pretty sure Sasha knows something is going on. She just doesn’t have any proof yet. This is only going to get worse.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“You’re going to have to end it.”
“But I love him.”
“It doesn’t matter. You saw how they were together. He isn’t going to leave his wife for you.” Macy tilted her head so she could look Alisa in the eye. “I’ve been exactly where you’re standing, but I wasn’t lucky enough to have someone throw me a lifeline. You can either drag this out for years or you can cut it off now. A few weeks of pain and you’ll be over him. I promise.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible when I see him every day.”
“Which is why you’re requesting an immediate transfer to the department of justice.”
“Brad won’t like that,” said Alisa.
“Don’t worry about what Brad likes or doesn’t like. He lost all authority over you the second he crossed the line. This is your life, Alisa. I just need to know if you’re willing to make a change. You’ve got good instincts and I’m in no doubt you’ll be a brilliant investigator someday, but if you stay here in Bolton, you’ll be miserable. If you want this to happen, I’ll take care of the details. If necessary I’ll even have a quiet word with Brad.”
Alisa looked back at the restaurant again. She wasn’t crying yet but she looked like she might.
“Alisa, you really have nothing to lose.”
“I think I need a drink,” said Alisa.
“Is that your way of saying yes?”
“It is.”
Macy took Alisa by the arm again.
“Is that dive bar on Temple still in business?” asked Macy.
“The owner keeps threatening to close it down but his regular customers won’t let him.”
“Sounds perfect, we’ll start there.”
Silent Rain Page 28
