Discouraged, Joel decided to watch the Walker house in the hopes he’d find something enticing to write about. His dreams for a big story were rapidly fading.
He’d been parked down the street from the house for less than an hour when a Volvo wagon backed out of the garage with Chloe behind the wheel.
While Joel’s intention had been to learn something more of Diana’s activities, it struck him that Chloe might be a better source of information. He followed her through city streets and into the parking lot of a large strip mall. She parked in front of a store called the Craft Connection.
Joel gave Chloe a minute’s head start, and then followed her into the store. He spotted her at a register near the front, talking to an older black woman she seemed to be acquainted with.
“I just had my break, honey,” the woman was saying while giving Chloe a hug. “Dang it all, I wish I’d known you were coming.”
“I didn’t know it myself,” Chloe said.
“How’s the new job working out?”
“Good.” Chloe nodded when she spoke, but even from where Joel was standing some thirty feet away, he could tell she had reservations about it.
The black woman apparently picked up on that, too. “I don’t think you burned any bridges here. You want your old job back, I bet you could get it.”
“No, that’s not why I came. I was hoping maybe we could talk. What time are you off?
“I close tonight, honey. And then I got to get home to my boy.” She looked in the direction of a woman with a full cart who was in line, glaring. Then she turned back to Chloe. “You call me and we’ll set up a time. I would just love to catch up.”
“I’ll do that.”
The two women exchanged another quick hug, and Chloe turned to leave. Joel started to wander in her direction, eyes scanning the shelves like he was looking for something. When he sensed she was close, he looked straight, pretending to be surprised. “Hey,” he said, “fancy meeting you here.”
Chloe looked confused and Joel realized she might not recognize him. “Joel Richards,” he prompted. “I’m a reporter. I was at—”
“Yes, I know who you are, but why are you here?”
“I needed some . . . some new pens.”
“Pens?”
“Yeah. For my article.”
Chloe looked even more confused. “You don’t use a computer?”
Joel dodged the question with one of his own. “What are you doing here?”
“I used to work here.”
“Oh, I see. You must miss it.” Joel knew he sounded nuts.
Chloe laughed. “Hardly. I came by to visit a friend, see if she had time for a quick something to eat.”
“Did she?”
“No.”
“So you’re eating alone?” He didn’t wait for a response. “Mind if I join you?” The words were out of Joel’s mouth before he knew it. He wasn’t sure where they’d come from.
Chloe shrugged. “If you want. I was just going to Billie’s Burgers.”
“You like Billie Burgers?”
“Yeah, I do. And it’s cheap.”
They’d started walking and were already to the parking lot. “Dinner is my treat,” Joel said. “I get tired of eating alone when I’m on assignment.” He’d heard that line once in a movie and thought it sounded very cosmopolitan. “What’s your favorite local restaurant?”
Joel’s phone rang before Chloe could answer. “Are you near a TV?” Skeet asked.
“No. Why?”
“Get to one. Quickly. You’ve got ten minutes until news time there. Word is there’s a breaking story about Walker. He may have been a dirty DA.”
“What?” Joel hadn’t caught a glimmer of dishonesty from anyone he’d talked to.
“That’s all I know. We won’t get the local feed here, so call me as soon as you know more.”
Joel turned to Chloe. “About dinner, can we stop by my motel first?”
“No way.” She spun around and glared at him. “What do you think I—”
“I didn’t mean that the way it came out.” Joel could feel himself blushing. He knew his face must be bright red. “That was my editor on the phone. I need to get to a TV right away. There’s a breaking news story about Roy Walker.”
Chloe appeared to be weighing his words. “Follow me,” she said finally. “There’s a Best Buy across the lot.”
Chapter 37
Diana was grateful to have time alone. It would have been impossible to keep up the pretense that she was fine when she was anything but. She felt raw and shaky and physically sick, as though she’d been pounded to a pulp. She wasn’t sure she had the strength to watch the upcoming news, but neither could she tear herself away from the television. Thurston had warned her there’d be coverage and she had to hear for herself.
Diana crossed one leg and then the other, trying to get comfortable. Even the sofa no longer felt familiar. Nothing in her life did.
And then the news anchor announced a breaking story and the screen switched to a perky blond reporting from the courthouse steps in Oakland. She looked straight into the camera, and with a sad shake of her head announced, “More surprising revelations about the prominent district attorney who was murdered two weeks ago in a convenience store robbery.”
She brushed a loose strand of hair from her face before continuing. “Earlier today we reported that assistant DA Roy Walker was wanted for questioning in connection with the twenty-year-old murder of Miranda Saxton in Georgia. And just this afternoon we have learned that there is also an investigation under way into allegations that Walker tampered with evidence in a case before the courts, and that he struck a deal with a defendant to commit a murder.” Here the reporter paused and again shook her head in disbelief. “The district attorney’s office has so far refused to comment on these allegations. This is a breaking story. We hope to have more on our next newscast tonight at ten.”
Diana flipped off the TV. Anger and disbelief churned inside her. The allegations couldn’t be true. They couldn’t. Roy wasn’t a monster. He was gentle and conscientious and honest.
And, she thought with an ache in her heart, an imposter. He’d certainly had her fooled.
She didn’t want to believe Jamal Harris any more than Thurston had, but what choice did she have? It was clear that Roy had been planning to meet him.
Moving from the couch to Roy’s rust-colored leather chair, sinking into its buttery softness, she felt momentarily embraced by pleasant memories. She could recall the nights the two of them spent talking or reading or watching television. She could picture Jeremy in Roy’s lap, first as a toddler and then as a young boy, their heads bent over a book while Roy read aloud—progressing over the years from Dr. Seuss to Little House on the Prairie—his softly resonant voice filling Diana with a sense of well being. Often Emily would join them, lying on the floor at Roy’s feet with Digger at her side. All of the people Diana loved most in the world together in one place. Sometimes she couldn’t believe she’d gotten so lucky.
She closed her eyes and felt a tear trickle down her cheek. How could you have done this, Roy? How could you have?
She wiped away the tears and looked around the room. In the aftermath of Roy’s death, she’d moved his magazines and books from the side table, but the sense of his presence in the room remained strong. The watercolor on the far wall was his gift to her one Christmas. At first glance it looked to be a winter scene—a barren birch with a dusting of snow on its branches. On closer inspection, the first buds of spring were obvious, and on a low hanging branch, a robin with almost piercing eyes.
Diana had loved the painting from the first moment she’d seen it. She treasured it even more when Roy explained that robins had special meaning for him because his mother used to tell him, “Wherever there is a robin, there is hope. His song heralds the day with joy and the promise of life.” And later, when Roy’s mother knew she was dying, she told him to remember that whenever he saw a robin, he’d know she was
there watching over him, and that she loved him. “Loved me very much,” Roy had repeated to Diana that day with a catch in his voice. He explained that the sight of a robin still caused his heart to stir.
It was one of the few times he’d spoken of his mother, and Diana realized now, with a jolt, that he’d been talking about his real mother, Brian Riley’s mother, who’d died of cancer when Brian was fourteen. The mother who’d given Brian the charm found with Miranda Saxton’s remains—evidence that had further linked Brian to her murder.
If only Diana could sit down across from Roy and talk to him, let him explain.
If only he’d been the man she believed him to be.
If only, Diana thought with a bitter laugh, she could stick her head in the sand and make it all go away. But she couldn’t. And first among the things she needed to deal with was bringing Emily up to date before she was broadsided by hearing about Roy from someone else.
Surprisingly, Emily answered the phone instead of letting it go to voicemail.
“Hi, Mom,” she said, sounding not at all put out that Diana had called. A further surprise.
“Hi, honey. Are you somewhere where you can talk?”
“Sure. I’m studying with Dog.”
“At the library?”
“No, in his room.”
His room? Diana didn’t like the sound of that but she bit her tongue. “Emily, I have to talk to you. It’s going to be upsetting. Why don’t you give me a call when you’re alone?”
“Now’s fine.” Emily covered the receiver and mumbled something, presumably to Dog.
Maybe, Diana thought, it would be better that Emily had someone there when she learned about Roy, even if that someone was Dog.
“There’s been more news about Roy,” Diana said. “And it’s not good.”
“You mean about why he was killed?”
“No.” Diana took a breath. “Roy Walker wasn’t his real name. It was Brian Riley.”
“Both are pretty bad, if you ask me.” Roy’s name had been the source of friendly joshing between Emily and her stepdad. Emily insisted “Roy” sounded old-fashioned and dull.
“That’s not the issue,” Diana said brusquely. “Twenty years ago Brian was a suspect in the disappearance of an eighteen-year-old girl. He was arrested but then released for lack of evidence.”
“They thought Roy kidnapped her?”
“Kidnapped or . . . or something. Only he was going by his real name, Brian, at the time. My guess is that he changed his name to get a fresh start.” Changed his name sounded better than stole someone’s identity.
“But he didn’t do anything wrong, right?” Emily’s voice had risen a few decibels.
“I’m afraid he may have. The girl’s remains were recently discovered, and there’s evidence suggesting he was the one who killed her.”
“What kind of evidence? DNA or something?”
“A charm he always wore. It was found with the girl’s remains.”
“No way. They say he killed her? As in murdered?” Emily’s voice had grown almost shrill.
“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but I didn’t want you to learn about it from someone else. It’s going to be in the news. There’s bound to be coverage down there.”
“Oh, God. The news?”
“And it gets worse.”
“How could it?”
Diana explained about the allegations of misconduct, leaving out the bit about solicitation of murder. She figured Emily had heard enough as it was.
“Do you want to come home for a bit?” Diana asked. “I know it’s a lot to deal with. You can use my credit card to book a flight. I think we should be together as a family.”
“Let me think. I have an exam tomorrow morning I can’t miss. But after that, yeah. I’ll look at the flight schedule and let you know. How’s Jeremy taking it?”
“I haven’t told him yet.”
“Poor kid.” Emily paused. “And poor you. You didn’t know about any of this before, did you?”
“No, I didn’t. I’m still in shock, in fact. It doesn’t sound like Roy.”
“Maybe there’s a mistake.”
“I don’t think so. We’ll talk more when you get home, okay. I love you, Em.”
“Love you, too.” Emily spoke the words quickly and quietly, but it was better than her usual silent response.
Could it be that her daughter was finally growing up?
*****
Emily called back minutes later. “I don’t need a ticket,” she said. “Dog is going to give me a ride. We should be there by seven or eight tomorrow evening, but don’t hold dinner. We’ll stop for a bite on the way.”
Diana didn’t want Dog there. She didn’t want a stranger underfoot, much less her daughter’s new boyfriend. And what about sleeping arrangements?
“We don’t have room for him here,” Diana explained. “Don’t forget Chloe is staying in the den.”
“Mom, we’ll work it out. Don’t worry. See you tomorrow.”
Work it out. Diana cringed. She was not going to allow Emily to share her bed with a boy right there under her mom’s nose. How could Emily suggest such a thing?
Allison called as soon as Diana hung up the phone. “I guess you saw the news? I didn’t think they’d get it out there so soon. How are you doing?”
“I’m holding it together.” Diana knew her voice suggested otherwise. “How’s Jeremy?”
“He and Len are playing some computer game. We’re making sure he doesn’t watch TV.”
“Thanks, Allison. I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”
“I just wish there was more we could do.”
Diana set the receiver back in its cradle and forced herself to breath deeply.
And then she started throwing things.
She took one of Roy’s prized CDs from the shelf and threw it across the room. And then another and another. Books were next. The thick, hardbound histories that Roy loved to read. His leather-bound atlas. The potboiler he’d been halfway through. They landed, pages askew, with satisfying thunks.
She picked up his boots from the front hallway and sailed them across the floor. His reading glasses, the stupid golfing magazines he refused to get rid of, even the pillows from his side of the couch.
“Damn you, Roy! Damn you!”
*****
“Holy shit,” said Joel, his gaze still glued to the TV at Best Buy. Then he looked over at Chloe, embarrassed. “Sorry, it kinda slipped out.”
“No problem,” she told him. No one had ever before apologized to Chloe for using what Rose called “inappropriate language.” In truth, she found Joel’s words quite apt under the circumstances.
The man next to them was talking to the Best Buy salesman about the pros and cons of plasma televisions. He gave Joel a sharp, disapproving glance.
“I never heard a murmur of anything about this,” Joel said, lowering his voice. “Did you?”
Chloe shook her head. Poor Diana, no wonder she’d been in such a bad mood that evening.
“Wow.” Joel turned his attention back to the TV. “I’m not going to be able to stick around for dinner, after all. I’ve got to get on this story. How about a rain check on the dinner?”
“That’s not necessary. I understand you’ve got a job to do.” Chloe was surprised to discover she felt genuinely disappointed.
“I mean it. I’m really sorry to cut out.”
“I get it. Don’t worry.”
Joel looked at his feet. “No, really. Aside from the stuff with Roy Walker, I was looking forward to spending time with you.”
“You were?”
“Yeah.”
She was on the verge of asking why, but found herself giggling instead. “Okay already. You’ve got a rain check for dinner. Now get going.”
He trotted off, then returned seconds later. “Hey, I forgot.” He pulled an envelope from his jacket pocket. “These are some photos my cousin emailed me. He took them at the bonfire the night Mir
anda Saxton disappeared. I printed copies for Mrs. Walker. I thought she might want them. Although now, maybe not.”
*****
Chloe didn’t feel much like eating and she certainly didn’t feel like going to a movie. She picked up a hamburger and fries at a fast-food window, sat in her dark car in the parking lot, and nibbled at her dinner. Through the lighted window of the restaurant, she could see children running around and laughing in the play area. She’d once imagined herself and Trace and their two little ones (by then they’d have had a second baby) in this sort of setting. She and Trace would be smiling at each other over burgers as their children played.
It probably wouldn’t have happened, Chloe realized. Trace didn’t have the patience to be a good father. He was more interested in himself than anyone, and there were times he wasn’t even nice. He’d even shot two people for no reason at all. But sometimes Chloe really, really missed him. How pathetic was that?
And what was she doing feeling happy because Joel Richards had been looking forward to having dinner with her? If she missed Trace so much, how come she wanted to see Joel again?
Too bad she’d never get that dinner. She’d be in jail soon. What would Joel think of her then?
Finally, when it was almost eight, Chloe returned to the Walkers’. A couple of news vans were out front, and a woman reporter in a red parka stood in the floodlight of a camera with a microphone in her hand.
Chloe ducked past the camera and ran to the front door. She entered the house quietly in case Diana was sleeping. One light shone in the darkened living room and it took Chloe a minute to make out Diana, sitting on the sofa. Around her, the floor was a mess, like someone had broken in and tossed the place.
“What happened?” Chloe asked. “Are you okay?”
Diana looked at her but didn’t say anything.
“Shall I call the police? An ambulance?”
“I’m fine,” Diana said. “Nothing happened. I just got a little angry and upset.”
Chloe looked around the room. “You did this?” she asked in surprise.
Lying With Strangers Page 26
