Murder Deja Vu

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Murder Deja Vu Page 28

by Polly Iyer


  “And you threatened Castell to get the truth?”

  “I’m ashamed to admit that is a fact,” Payton said, showing nothing that resembled remorse. “Chicago still had a contract out on him. Castell had proof that Robert intimidated a juror in a trial because Castell did the intimidating. He also had a tape of Robert suggesting he make a witness recant his story, a witness who disappeared, though Castel wouldn’t cop to that murder. Don’t know why, exactly. We’ve got him for Lurena Howe. He claimed Robert prodded him to prove Mr. Daughtry and Rayanne Johnson knew one another in the biblical sense, and he didn’t care how Castell got the proof. Castell had a tape of that too. The man hedged his bets.”

  “Suggesting, prodding. Sounds like Robert,” Dana said. “Then he could say someone misconstrued what he said.”

  “That’s exactly what he did,” Payton said. “But he couldn’t talk himself out of tape recordings ordering Castell, a.k.a. Harry Klugh, to intimidate a witness or to conjure one up.”

  “What’s your involvement, Harris?” Dana asked. “What did Robert have on you?”

  “Something I thought I did a long time ago, but it turns out I didn’t.”

  “Hit someone while you were driving drunk?” Dana asked.

  Harris went rigid. “How did you know?”

  “It didn’t take a genius. Robert obviously had something on you. I wanted to ask you a hundred times, but I figured if you wanted to tell me, you would. You never did. Then, of course, you stopped driving. Like I said, it didn’t take a genius.”

  “I did hit someone,” Harris said. “But I didn’t kill him like I thought. Robert knew all along. He tracked down the guy and paid him not to pursue the accident. From then till now he had me in his pocket. ’Course, I had him too. I had a signed affidavit that Robert raped a woman. I think there were others. She didn’t want to put herself through what he’d do if she told.”

  The hypocrisy that Robert had screwed around while claiming to be the saintly, cuckolded husband would have hurt if she cared. “Why doesn’t that part surprise me?”

  “Well, that’s it,” Payton said.

  “Not entirely, Sheriff.” Reece ran his hand around his neck, a gesture Dana now knew and loved. “I know you bucked the system. Going after your boss couldn’t have been easy.”

  “No, it wasn’t. I jumped Robert’s head and went to the attorney general. I could hardly go to the district attorney to nail the district attorney now, could I? Besides, I didn’t think you were guilty. Neither did Harris. Sometimes your gut tells you more than what appears to be the facts. I’m only sorry you found out it was your brother who screwed you over. That had to be tough to swallow.”

  Reece nodded.

  “Gotta go,” Payton said. “I wish you two the best. I mean that sincerely.”

  “Thank you, Sheriff,” Dana said.

  “Mind if I talk to Dana alone?” Harris asked.

  Reece took Payton’s arm. “Come on, Sheriff. I’ll walk you out.”

  “Nice old pickup in the garage. You wouldn’t be interested in selling it, would you?”

  “Never, Sheriff,” Dana said before taking Harris’s arm.

  “Mind if I look it over?”

  “I’ll show it to you,” Reece said.

  Dana had an idea what Harris wanted to say. “Come on out back. We can sit on the deck.”

  When they settled, Harris said, “I’m leaving Regal Falls.”

  “I figured. There’s no reason for you to waste your talents here.”

  “The Atlanta Journal-Constitution offered me a job. They like my work, and I think it’s about time I find out how good I am.”

  “That’s fantastic, Harris. Just don’t—”

  “I won’t screw up. I don’t start for six weeks. I’ve arranged to enter a program in Asheville. I can kick it.”

  Dana leaned over and kissed her friend’s cheek. “I know you can. You can call me any time you need to talk. I’ll always be here for you, you know.”

  Harris nodded. “I do. I’m happy for you, Dana, and it’s about time you’re happy.”

  “I am. I never thought happiness looked like this.”

  “You’ve always been my best friend. Robert never understood that. I know now you have someone who any fool can see loves you more than his own life, but I hope I can be your second best friend.”

  “Always, Harris.”

  Epilogue

  Blowing in the Wind

  Reece took the call on the Saturday morning before Labor Day. He made plane reservations for two, then he and Dana packed a bag and drove to the Asheville airport where they boarded a flight to Boston. At Logan, they rented a car and drove to Lynn.

  Lana answered the intercom and buzzed them in. “He asked for you. The home healthcare nurse said it’s not the end, but Frank didn’t want to wait until he couldn’t—” She swallowed her words, and her eyes filled with tears.

  Reece took her in his arms, and Dana hugged them both.

  “Goddamn it,” Frank called from the other room in a weak voice. “Stop that. Wait until I’m fucking gone before you sob over me, will you?”

  Reece squelched his emotions, drew a breath, and moved to the bedroom. “That’s the Frank Vance I know and love.” He almost lost it when he saw his old friend lying in bed, pale skin covering his skeletal frame, looking like Death had already knocked on his door.

  “Get me out of this fucking bed. I won’t spend my last days in bed with you mooning over me like I’m some cadaver. Put me in the chair. Lana’s going to break her back lifting me. I need a strong body.”

  A wheelchair sat by the bedside. Reece lifted Frank into it. He couldn’t have weighed more than ninety pounds, but he was still as feisty as the big brute who’d saved Reece from an ignominious end. Still, to hold his emotions in check, Reece bit his lip so hard a metallic taste filled his mouth.

  “Don’t fall apart on me, son,” Frank whispered in his ear. “I need you.” He pulled Reece’s face to look at him. “Understand?”

  Reece nodded. Willing away the tears that threatened didn’t work, and they spilled like raindrops onto his cheeks.

  “Shit,” Frank said. “You are one hell of a pussy, you know that?”

  “Only when it concerns the people I love. There aren’t many of those left.”

  “Well, there’s going to be one less, and I don’t want you to feel sorry about it.” He caught his breath. “I’m a happy man. Now Lana’s made a good dinner. You two stay the night, then tomorrow I have plans.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  “Jesus, for once I get no arguments. So it’s settled.” They moved into the living room. “I want a glass of wine. Fuck the drugs. Why shouldn’t I have a buzz if I want one? What’s going to happen to me? I’m gonna die?”

  Reece laughed in spite of the sadness that consumed him. “Christ, Frank. What I love about you—you never change.”

  “Not yet. Did I ever tell you, Dana, how Reece taught me to read?”

  “No.”

  Reece shook his head. “Come on, Frank. No one wants to hear this.”

  “I do,” Dana said.

  Reece caught her subtle warning. Frank needed to take everyone’s mind off him and put it elsewhere. “Oh, go ahead. Tell them.”

  “After someone pours me another glass of wine.” Lana did, and Frank went on, measuring his sentences between rests. “Dr. Fucking Seuss. A Cat in the Hat. Can you believe it?” He sipped some wine and waited. “I knew some of it. After all, I went through the sixth grade, but I’d forgotten more than I ever learned.”

  “You weren’t that bad,” Reece said, giving Frank time to recover his voice.

  “Some of the other guys gathered ’round and made a big deal of it, but soon, there they were, reading right along with me.…Then, the Sendak books—In the Night Kitchen, and…Where the Wild Things Are. We liked those. Great scary drawings. Then crime books, with characters like us—Elmore, what’s his name?”

  “Leonard,” Reece
said.

  “Yeah, right, and Westlake. I got hooked on those two. The bad guys sometimes came out ahead.”

  “Yeah, they do. You like that, don’t you, Frank?”

  “Damn right. After you spend time in stir…you realize that doesn’t happen too often in real life.”

  “I had good students,” Reece said, “especially when we started on the adult books. One of the guards ordered them for me.”

  “One of the good guards,” Frank said.

  “Come, everyone,” Lana said. “Dinner is ready.”

  Reece wheeled Frank into the kitchen where Lana had set the table with china and silver and candles. Frank ate little, mostly whipped potatoes and pudding, but he insisted on a glass of wine. Before long, his head started to droop. “Time for bed.”

  Reece nodded to Lana that he’d take care of Frank first and wheeled him to his room. He lifted him again and laid him down, then put the cannula in his nose and turned on the oxygen.

  Frank yanked at his arm. “Tomorrow, Reece. Okay?”

  Reece nodded, leaned down, and kissed his friend on the forehead. “Tomorrow, Frank.”

  * * * * *

  In bed, Reece lay quietly with Dana wrapped in his arms. He wasn’t in a mood, exactly, but the weight of what was going to happen tomorrow weighed heavily. Dana knew and didn’t try to talk him out of it. After a fitful night’s sleep, he woke early, dreading the day. He’d made a promise he would keep. Dana must have sensed what he was going through, and they went about getting dressed without speaking. They exchanged a long look, then Reece went into Frank’s room.

  “Get me up, will you.”

  Reece lifted Frank from his bed into his chair. The old man seemed weaker, probably due to the combination of drugs and wine. It didn’t matter.

  Lana made a big breakfast, blini and soft scrambled eggs for Frank, sausage and toast for the others. She fed Frank, but after a few bites he shook his head. “No more.” A pall settled over the kitchen, conversation almost non-existent, unlike the enthusiasm of the night before.

  “I want to go over to the ocean,” Frank said. Everyone exchanged glances. “Don’t look at each other like I’m crazy. I want to see the water. I love the water. I want us all to go to the ocean.” Lana ran from the room. “All of us,” he called after her, his voice barely a whisper.

  Reece could feel the heat of Dana’s stare, but he didn’t look at her. She started to say something, decided against it.

  “Go to her, will you, Dana?” Frank said, his gravelly voice at half strength. “Get her ready to go.” He looked at Reece. “Get me ready. I’ll need a jacket.”

  Reece marshaled all his forces to hold his emotions in check and wheeled Frank into the bedroom. Taking a throw off the bed, he covered Frank’s scrawny legs. Then he put his arms through the sleeves of the jacket. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure, son. While I can still function. Bad enough I’m pissing in a fucking diaper, I don’t want to be gaga too. Know what I mean?”

  Reece nodded.

  Lana’s eyes were red and swollen, but she seemed resigned. The two women alternated with opening the doors that led outside, while Reece lifted the wheelchair with Frank in it and carried him down the stairs. When Reece set him down, Lana pushed him across the street.

  “Don’t look at me,” Reece said, holding Dana’s arm. “And don’t say anything.”

  “Could I talk you out of it?”

  “No.”

  “Then I won’t say anything.”

  When they got to the bench, the three of them sat. The sun shone bright, with enough crispness in the air to justify a jacket.

  “This is beautiful, isn’t it?” Frank said. “No smell today, notice? Clear and bright and the ocean is blue and clean. What more could I ask?”

  “It is beautiful,” Dana said. “A perfect day.”

  They watched the ocean for an hour. Lana held Frank’s bony hand and the two exchanged quiet words no one could hear. Then Frank said to Lana, “Now, I want you and Dana to take a long walk. There’s a restaurant at the end of the promenade, right over the Swampscott line. Go have coffee. They have good pecan pie. And don’t come back for a while.”

  Frank looked straight ahead. Lana moved to him and kissed him on the lips. She whispered something in his ear. He whispered in hers. Then she turned and started walking. Dana hugged him and caught up with Lana, taking her arm. Reece watched them walk away.

  “I closed my business,” Frank said. “Lana didn’t want to take it over. She could have. It’s a good income, but she didn’t want to stay here with the memories. She has a daughter in Brooklyn. She’s going there. The daughter’s a good girl. Lana will be fine. I’ve left her enough money to live comfortably for the rest of her life. She’ll probably give it all to her grandchild, which is okay if that’s what she wants.”

  Reece didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. Frank had put his house in order, and he needed to tell Reece.

  “I’d appreciate it if you’d check on her once in a while,” Frank said.

  “I will. I’ll see to it she has everything she needs.”

  “Thank you.”

  Reece felt the tears fill his eyes and brushed them away.

  Frank looked at him and shook his head. “Jesus, you’re a wuss.”

  Reece couldn’t get out the words, so he nodded. He remembered standing over his father, feeling forgiveness for the wasted years, if nothing more. This man next to him had taken his father’s place when he needed a father. And now he would do what his father asked of him and what a good son agreed to.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready.” Reece wheeled Frank across the street. Cars stopped to let them pass. Reece waved his thanks. He lifted the chair up the stairs and through the first door, then used a key for the second. Inside the apartment, Reece asked, “How about one more glass of good Cabernet?”

  “No,” Frank said. “It’s time. Put me to bed.”

  Reece wheeled him into the bedroom, lifted him out of the chair, and laid him down.

  “The dose is on the dresser, full. I waited too long. Now I’m too fucking weak to press the goddamn plunger, but promise me you won’t wake up some night wracked with guilt.”

  “Would you have done it for me?”

  Frank looked like he was drifting back in time. “I thought a couple of times you were going to ask me.” Frank stared into Reece’s eyes. “I would have tried to talk you out of it, but if you were sure I would have.”

  Reece nodded.

  “With three of you here, no one will figure it out. An old man finally let himself slide out of life. I wish I believed something better waited on the other side, but I don’t. Even if there were, there’d be no place for me.”

  Frank’s words hit Reece hard. “That’s where you’re wrong, old friend. If there’s a heaven, you’ll sit on Kingdom’s throne.” Reece took the needle. “I love you, Frank.”

  “Me too, son. Now, let’s get it over with before I change my mind.”

  “Will you?”

  Frank raised his hollow eyes and met Reece’s gaze. A smile twitched his lips. He answered in a weak voice. “No.”

  Reece took the needle, squirted a drop. He raised Frank’s sleeve and, through eyes filling with tears, stuck it in his vein.

  * * * * *

  Reece, Dana, and Lana stood where the walkway along Lynn Shore Drive jutted out into the ocean. The tide was receding; the wind blew out to sea. Lana opened the painted box she’d brought from Russia and gingerly fingered the gray powder. She glanced at Reece and Dana, then tipped the contents into the breeze. The three of them watched the dust that was once Frank Vance float through the air toward the horizon.

  * * * * *

  After closing the apartment, Reece traded their rented car for a van. The three of them packed what Lana decided to keep, took the rest to a mission resale store, and Reece drove her and her belongings to her daughter’s apartment in Brooklyn.

  “You’re alw
ays welcome to visit,” Dana said after they unloaded everything with the help of Lana’s son-in-law. “We have two houses, so if you get sick of us, you can have a house all to yourself.”

  “Don’t be surprised if I come. I won’t stay long. How is it you say here, fish and visitors stink after three days?”

  Reece smiled and threw his arm around her shoulders. “You will never stink. We would welcome you as long as you care to stay. Forever, if you want.”

  Lana looked on the verge of tears, but her granddaughter came into the room, and she regained control. “You are both kind people. I knew right away why Frank loved you so much, Reece.”

  “The feelings were mutual, but you know that.”

  * * * * *

  They flew back to Asheville from New York. On the drive to Regal Falls, Dana asked, “Whose house?”

  Reece looked at her. His eyes smiled again. “Ours,” he said.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Polly Iyer was born in a coastal city north of Boston, Massachusetts. After studying at Massachusetts College of Art and Design in Boston, she lived in Italy, Atlanta, and now resides in the beautiful Piedmont region of South Carolina in an empty nest house with her husband and family pets. Writing novels turned into her passion after careers in fashion, art, and business. Now she spends her time being quite the hermit in comfortable clothes she wouldn't be caught dead wearing on the outside, while she devises ways for life to be complicated for her characters. Better them than her.

  Learn more about Polly and her books at

  www.PollyIyer.com

  Following is an excerpt from

  Hooked

  I hope you enjoy it.

  Hooked

  Chapter One

  Gotcha

 

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