by B. T. Lord
Cammie tuned out the din of human conversation as she looked down at this man who had caused her so much grief both while he was alive and now that he was dead. A multitude of emotions ran through her as she realized this would be the last time she’d look upon his face.
In a moment of sudden, unexpected clarity, a knowing came over her. As if he were standing next to her and allowing her to see a piece of himself that he’d kept carefully hidden from everyone. An understanding of what had driven him, what his life had been about. And why he’d felt compelled to take his own life. It didn’t make many of the things he’d done right, but she knew now why he’d done them. Unexpectedly, it was the same things that had once driven her. The need to prove she was more than what people saw. The need to show the world that she was worthy of their attention. For Eli, this need had been played out on the world stage. For her, it had been played out in the back alleys of Seattle and the city streets of Boston.
Once he could no longer be the symbol of resiliency, determination and strength, he’d chosen to end the play. Close the curtain and go out without a look backwards.
But he had looked back. At her. At what he’d done to her. And had asked for absolution.
I forgive you, Eli. I forgive you everything. Because we were the same, you and I. I just didn’t realize it until now.
She bit back the tears before glancing over her shoulder at Lehane. She saw Audella had finally reached her husband and was whispering in his ear the words of comfort and solace that she herself could not articulate.
From the corner of her eye, she watched the minister stride towards the podium, signaling that services were about to begin. Lehane and Audella settled themselves into the front row. Rick lightly touched her shoulder.
“There are some chairs next to the Tylers.”
“I’ll stand.”
“You sure? It’s probably going to be a long service and with your ankle and all –“
She shook her head. “I know what I’m doing. You sit. I’ll stand.”
“Then I’ll stand too.”
Together the two leaned up against the far wall. While Rick and the others turned their attention to the minister, Cammie kept her eyes surreptitiously focused on the front and back doors, hoping the person she was waiting for would make an appearance.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Rick was right. The service went on forever. He was also right about her ankle. Unaccustomed to standing, much less walking in heels, her ankle was turning into a throbbing miasma of pain and discomfort. She had no choice but to suck it up and continue watching the doors. She had a hunch the person she was waiting for would turn up. It was simply a matter of when. She also, through habit, scanned the crowd. Despite having two viable suspects, it was always possible the murderer was sitting in that room; inserting themselves into the grieving process to avert attention. She’d seen it before in Seattle, when the murderer turned up at the funeral of the woman he’d cold bloodedly strangled. Distance did not change the more tragic aspects of humanity. Rage and anger sometimes boiled over into death and murder. It was just as possible here, in this small hamlet of civilization in a vast wilderness than it was in a crowded seaport city. She therefore carefully and covertly scrutinized each face for any telltale sign that would make her instincts scream out.
There were instances, however, when she put aside her vigilance and turned her attention to the minister. In those moments, she was proud she held it together, unlike the sniffles and quiet weeping of many throughout the gymnasium. The minister spoke of Eli’s many accomplishments, events everyone in that room knew as well, if not better, than their own children’s names. Then a few of his old Night Hawks teammates got up to talk about those long ago days. Before the fame. Before the awards. When he’d been just a high-schooler with big dreams, and the talent to back it up. It was then that Cammie found her fortitude crumbling. She’d been a part of every one of those memories. Some funny, some poignant – all slices of her own life intermingled so closely with Eli’s.
As the men spoke, she felt the eyes of several townspeople stray to her. Did they feel sympathy towards her? Grief? Anger? She couldn’t tell. And in the end, it didn’t really matter.
The minister then returned and read a statement from Lehane, who owing to his emotional state, was unable to read himself. His words spoke of Eli’s prowess with the puck, the uncanny intuitiveness to always know what was happening every second he was on the ice.
It struck Cammie as sad that no one spoke of Eli’s humanity. Not even his best friend Lehane thought to bring it up. They probably thought he hadn’t any.
But she knew better.
It didn’t matter that his humanity had been prompted by the cancer. The fact was, he’d taken a hard look at himself and changed what needed to be changed. It took courage to do that. More courage than facing an opponent on the ice. And he’d done it. She knew now that somewhere inside, he had cared. Deeply.
The tragedy of his life was that it had come too late.
Finally it was over. The minister intoned one last prayer and the service came to an end.
“Do you want me to cover you on your way to your truck?” Rick asked.
“No. I’m going to stay here for awhile. I’d like to say a last, private good-bye to Eli.”
“I’ll go help with traffic control, then come back.”
“Rick, you don’t –“
Rick held his hand up. “Look, I know you think I’m being stupid. But despite what everybody thinks, I know and Emmy knows and even most of this town knows that you’re the best sheriff we’ve ever had. I’m not going to stand by and allow some nutbag to take out their frustrations on you. So I’m going to wait for you just as you’d wait for me if the positions were reversed.” He glared at her as if daring her to disagree. “And if you don’t like that, you can fire me.”
Cammie met his determined stare. And her heart warmed. Then chilled. The truth was, she didn’t want Rick here. She didn’t want him to witness what she was going to do. She realized how much his opinion of her meant. And she would save it at all costs.
“I’ll give you a call when I’m ready to leave. In the meantime, once everyone’s gone home, would you please stay in your truck until you hear from me? I don’t need you getting frostbite waiting out in the cold.”
“Will do.”
Cammie turned and watched as everyone quietly filed out. From the open doorway came flashing lights and she knew the press had descended upon the departing mourners. That was another reason for her to stay. The last thing she wanted to do was face the media.
As the crowd thinned, she noticed Audella and Lehane still seated in their chairs. She quietly approached the couple and nodded towards the door. “I don’t think you want to face what’s out there. Would you like me to have the minister slip you out the back door?”
“That would be wonderful,” Audella replied. Lehane was silent, the sobbing subsiding halfway through the service. Cammie glanced at him and noticed how numb he was, as though every ounce of emotion had been squeezed out of him, leaving only an empty husk in its wake. Once more she worried about his mental state. And knowing about his heart, she worried about his physical state as well.
She called the minister over, explained the situation and together he and one of the bodyguards who’d been stationed in the back managed to get them away safely to their vehicle. Cammie watched from the window of one of the back offices, part of her mind thinking about the investigation while the other part made sure they drove away without a posse of reporters trailing behind them.
At long last, she was alone. The silence of the building weighed down on her as she made her way towards the casket and, once more, stood in front of what was once a vibrant, living man. Memories swallowed her up – their first kiss, some of the more exciting games they’d played. Even that wretched night when she’d brained him with the shovel. That last night they’d been together. The discovery of his body. They all came pouring fort
h. To her surprise, it no longer hurt so much to think about all those things. There were still twinges here and there, but the suffocating pain was gone. It was replaced with a knowing that even if she’d stayed and heard him out the last night of his life, it wouldn’t have changed anything. Whoever wanted him dead would have simply waited for her to leave. Or, in a worst case scenario, taken her life as well.
She glanced up at the ceiling. “I hope you’re having a good laugh over all this,” she whispered under her breath.
Time stood still as she remained standing by the casket, looking down at the face she’d once known so well, watching as the recollections of days long gone raced by like leaves on a river. Words, a touch, a smile, a laugh – all these relived themselves in her mind’s eye. Summers climbing Crow Mountain, winters flying across the ice, springs huddled in each other’s arms and falls getting ready for school. They all demanded their moment and she gave her permission. Before she knew it, a half hour had passed in the blink of an eye. Much like life itself.
Disappointed, and a little surprised that her quarry hadn’t shown up, and worried that Rick was still waiting for her in the frigidly cold temperatures, she shook off the melancholy of memories and hurried back to where she’d thrown down her parka. She took her cell phone out of her pocket and was in the middle of dialing Rick when she heard the front door of the gymnasium open. Her first thought was that the reporters were sneaking in to take a last picture of Eli. Unwilling to give them an added bonus of catching the grieving sheriff at his casket, she quickly ducked down behind the chairs.
She waited a few moments before peeking around the chair. To her delight, she saw her instincts hadn’t been off after all. She watched the person she’d been waiting for all evening quietly slip down the aisle and approach the bier.
Cammie crept along the row of chairs and came up behind the lone mourner.
“I was hoping I’d see you here. You’ve been avoiding me.”
Carolyn Haskell, dressed in a long black coat with a fur collar and a matching hat angled perfectly on her blonde hair, jerked her head up and stared at Cammie.
“I have not,” the woman snapped.
“You haven’t been home for the past week.”
“I had business out of town.”
“We need to finish our conversation.”
Carolyn’s mouth tightened. “I told you before. I’m not talking to you without a lawyer.”
She turned on her heel and started down the aisle.
“That’s too bad because I just got a report from Forensics that tells me I have probable cause to arrest you for the murder of Eli Kelley.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
“Or at least as an accessory to his murder.”
Carolyn abruptly stopped and whirled around to face Cammie. The color was gone from her face.
“They found long blonde strands of hair in Eli’s bed that match your DNA. That alone is enough to arrest you.”
“How did you get my--” She gasped as the realization hit her. “You bitch! You took it from the water cup you offered me when I came to your office!” Cammie shrugged, which infuriated Carolyn even more. “You unscrupulous, dishonest, piece of--”
“I wouldn’t go there if I were you.”
“Why not? You’re doing everything you can to pin Eli’s murder on me!”
“I didn’t plant your hair in his bed. You did that yourself.”
“I didn’t kill him!” her screech echoed throughout the silent building.
“Then talk to me. Tell me what happened that day.”
“Oh, so you can turn my words against me? I know how much you hate me.”
Cammie sighed. “Carolyn, I don’t hate you. In fact, I never started this thing between us. You’ve had a chip on your shoulder ever since grade school. It’s time to let it go.” Carolyn’s nostrils flared, but she remained silent. Cammie slowly approached Carolyn and stopped a few inches from her. “We can go round and round on this, but at the end of the day, you’re going to have to talk to me. The more you refuse, the worse it looks for you.”
She noticed Carolyn pensively biting her lip. “I don’t know why I should trust you, especially after that stunt with the cup,” she muttered.
“You were being uncooperative. I needed to find out what went down that night. Regardless of whether you believe me or not, I’m a professional, Carolyn. I don’t allow personal feelings to get in the way of my job. And right now, my job is to unravel what happened in Eli’s house the night he was murdered. The fact that forensics found your DNA in his bed is not looking good. Just tell me what happened.”
“Like you would believe me.”
“I won’t know until you start talking.”
The two women stared each other down. Carolyn’s mind raced, trying her best to come up with the perfect excuse to get out of this. But one look at the sheriff’s determined face, and knowing she wouldn’t think twice about arresting her if she refused, she let out a defeated sigh. With a dramatic flounce, she dropped down in the nearest chair with a frustrated thud.
Cammie inwardly smiled and quietly sat down next to her. Carolyn carefully folded her gloved hands in her lap and stared straight ahead, her blue eyes focused on a spot above the podium where the school’s crimson and cream colored banner hung down above Eli’s body.
“It’s no secret I wanted Eli,” she started slowly. “I’ve always wanted Eli. Ever since fourth grade. But you know that. I never stood a chance. Not at 200 pounds and a face full of acne. Even if I hadn’t had those things running against me, he was stuck on you. He obviously went for the butch type who could play hockey and hang out as one of the guys. I was too feminine for that.”
Cammie ground her teeth at the obvious insult, but remained silent as Carolyn continued.
“When he came back to Twin Ponds, I thought I finally had a chance. I’ve learned over the years not to wait for life to come to you. You’ve got to grab it by the balls. So I did. This time I was going to win. We had dinner a few times. We talked about his career, the life he’d led since leaving Twin Ponds.” She chuckled sadly. “I now realize that all we did was talk about him. He never once asked me about my life. What I’d been doing. The bastard never even mentioned how much weight I’d lost, or how good I looked. That should have clued me in. But I still had those damned stars in my eyes. I kept waiting for him to make a move. I’d read all the magazines – I knew he was a ladies man. But he wasn’t moving as quickly as I wanted, so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I drove out to his house the day he died around lunchtime. I figured we could indulge in some afternoon delight. He wasn’t home, but that didn’t stop me. I decided to surprise him.” She paused for a long moment. Just as Cammie wondered if she’d refuse to elaborate, she opened her mouth and spoke into the cool, quiet air.
“I got undressed, climbed into his bed and waited.” She closed her eyes against the painful memory and took a breath. She slowly let it out as she gripped her hands tighter.
“God, he was such a bastard,” she whispered under her breath.
“What happened?” Cammie asked.
“What do you think happened?” she suddenly snarled. “He walked in, saw me in his bed and blew a gasket. He totally humiliated me. Told me he was still in love with you and ordered me out of his house. I barely had time to get my clothes together before he tossed me out into the snow.” She looked at the coffin and suddenly yelled, “I’ve never been treated like that by anyone, you piece of shit!”
She covered her face with her hands, and it took a few moments for her to calm herself down. Abruptly she tore her hands away and once again stared at the altar, her blue eyes snapping with anger.
“I wanted to get drunk. I wanted to completely obliterate what he’d done to me. So I went to Zee’s.” She paused, then continued in a quieter tone, “That’s when I saw Jace. At that moment, I hated you so much. All through high school, it was you and Eli. Fifteen fucking years later, it was still you and Eli. Se
eing Jace sitting there alone and drunk gave me the perfect opportunity to finally get back at you. To take something you had. To make you feel the rejection I’d just been through.” She sighed. “I realize now how stupid I was. It wasn’t your fault the guy still had it bad for you. Christ, you suffered more than I ever did at the hands of Eli. But I wasn’t thinking clearly. All I wanted to do was to strike out at you and I would have used anyone to do it with. Jace provided me that chance.”
“So you left Zee’s with Jace. Do you recall what time that was?”
Carolyn nodded. “I think it was around ten. The guy was so plastered, I had trouble getting him to my car. Of course Eli had to show up. That’s when things went from bad to worse. He saw us together and completely lost it. He insulted me and insulted Jace. By the way, even drunk, your guy is a gentleman. When Eli started calling me names, Jace tried to take a swing at him.” She shuddered. “The poor bastard didn’t stand a chance. Not as drunk as he was. Eli started pounding on him. I had to throw myself in the middle to make him stop.”
For the first time since she’d begun talking, she turned and looked directly at Cammie. “I regret that whole day. I regret going to Eli’s house and I especially regret dragging Jace into my mess. But I swear to you, I had nothing to do with killing Eli. The last time I saw him was in the parking lot when he drove away.”
“What about Jace? What happened after you got him to your house?”
“Are you sure you want to hear this?”
She didn’t. But she had to. So she nodded.
