by Alana Terry
She stepped down the carpeted hallway, glancing into the large St. Margaret’s library. As she approached Carl’s office, she heard him talking with someone. The door was open, so she took a peek inside.
“Kennedy!” Carl boomed. “You get tired of my wife dragging you around from one store to another?”
His visitor turned around, and she recognized the chaplain from the Boston Police Department.
“Have a seat.” Carl pointed to an empty chair. “Dominic just stopped by to tell me who set fire to our house last night.”
CHAPTER 27
Carl seemed in a good mood for someone discussing the fire that nearly destroyed his home. “Should you tell her, or should I?”
Even Dominic had a slightly bemused expression on his face. “Why don’t you do the honors?”
Carl crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Well, my home insurance adjuster won’t like it one bit, but at least now we know who our arsonist is. He’s about three and a half feet tall, ten years in age (give or take), and his two favorite words are hungry and yucky.”
Kennedy looked for any traces of a jest in Carl’s expression. “Woong did it?”
“Yup.” Carl chuckled. “Boy’s been obsessed with fire since the day we brought him home. Bul! Bul! Shouts it all the time. Social worker thinks probably that’s how he kept warm in the winters when he was out on the streets. Maybe that’s why it’s so important to him. We don’t know. What we do know is he got hold of Sandy’s long-nosed kitchen lighter. Probably saw her using it to start that busted burner on the stove or whatnot, and he decided to try the magical fire maker out for himself.”
“So it was just an accident?” Kennedy asked, finally beginning to understand the reason behind the general lightness of mood.
Carl nodded. “Best news we could have gotten. Well, except now I’ve got to beg our insurance policy to cover the damage. But I’d rather shell out a ten-grand deductible than know someone is out to hurt me or my family. It sure is a load off my shoulders.”
“Do you want me to ask the fire chief to come have a talk with your son?” Dominic asked. “Scare little bit of safety into his system?”
Kennedy thought he was joking, but Carl paused as if taking the question seriously. “Let me run that by Sandy. She’s been reading up on all the new ins and outs of adoption. Got a whole list of do’s and don’ts, what topics you can broach, what topics are taboo, how much time you need to spend doing what with your kid each day .... To me it’s just a bunch of psychobabble. Back when we were adopting out of the foster system, we didn’t have time or energy for any sophisticated set of rules. But everything’s different now. All these new adoption bloggers. A whole lot of stuff and nonsense if you want my opinion, but my Sandy, she swears by it. So let me ask first and see what she thinks. Maybe one of her books has a chapter about children who set fires to their new homes. I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Kennedy couldn’t help but smile at Carl’s attitude toward everything. She’d been something of a pyromaniac when she was Woong’s age, too. She couldn’t count the times her dad sat her down and lectured her for half an hour or made her watch fire safety videos over and over again until she could recite all their dozens of precautions and rules from memory. He never thought to have the fire chief show up, though. Maybe that would have been more effective.
Carl reached out and shook Dominic’s hand. “Thanks again for the good news, brother. Now, let’s pray our adjuster will accept our claim. I’m just waiting for them to pull out some kind of exclusion clause when it comes to children playing with lighters in the middle of the night. Now, if we could only find out who set fire to the Abernathys’ place.”
Dominic frowned. “Well, I have a feeling that’s not going to remain a mystery for too much longer.”
“Does that mean they have their guy?” Carl asked.
“In a manner of speaking.”
“Well, who was it?”
Dominic sighed. “The fire started in Wayne Abernathy’s home office. We’ve known that since the beginning. At first, everyone assumed the suspect set the fire to hide the evidence. Now, it’s looking more and more like the senator was trying to get rid of evidence at the time of his murder. The department’s best guess right now was he was burning some papers or files at the time he was killed. Whoever the murderer was, she left the fire going and didn’t lift a finger to put it out before splitting the scene.”
Carl leaned forward in his seat. “I’m sorry. Did you just say she?”
Dominic nodded. “I did. Video surveillance from the Abernathys’ residence shows a young twenty-something pulling up into the Abernathys’ house just after the son drove off. Someone let her past security — Abernathy himself, we presume. She left about fifteen minutes later, and within another quarter of an hour, the senator was dead and the whole mansion was going down in flames.”
CHAPTER 28
Kennedy held her breath.
“Any clues as to who this mystery lady is?” Carl asked. Kennedy didn’t understand why he didn’t sound more excited. Didn’t he see what this meant for the case?
“Your guess is as good as mine at this point,” Dominic answered. “And of course, I’m telling you this off the record. It’s got to stay under wraps for now.”
“Of course.” Carl drew his fingers across his mouth as if he were zipping his lips shut. “I won’t say a word. But it would be nice to know something about the suspect.”
“It’s all conjecture now. Last I heard, they were working on retrieving her plates from the surveillance. That’s gonna give us a place to start. For all we know, she could be anything from a hit woman to a jilted mistress.”
Carl bristled visibly. “Wayne Abernathy wasn’t that kind of man. He may have had some skeletons in his closet, but they weren’t the kind that went around wearing high heels and risqué undergarments.”
Kennedy might have giggled in different circumstances.
Dominic stood up. “Anyway, I can let you know more as information is released to the public. I’m just glad that you and your family can rest easy tonight knowing nobody’s holding a death wish against you.”
Carl and Dominic said goodbye, and Kennedy remembered she was supposed to tell Carl about his picnic lunch out in the car.
“This whole case just gets stranger and stranger, doesn’t it?” he asked once they were alone.
“At least you got some good news. I mean, now you know that the fire was just an accident.”
Carl nodded. “Houses can be replaced. That’s just what I’ll have to keep telling myself as we dish out a small fortune to pay for the repairs. But at least it’s not winter. It’s not like we’re going to freeze while we wait for the builders to take care of it. Lots to be thankful for.”
“Like Noah being innocent.”
He frowned. “What did you say?”
“I said it’s good news that Noah’s innocent. Since the video showed the killer was a woman.”
She couldn’t understand why he looked so serious again.
“I guess you missed that part of the conversation.” He adjusted his glasses, which were starting to slip off his nose.
“What part of the conversation?” Kennedy didn’t like the way he was looking at her. Didn’t like the tone he was using.
“When Detective Drisklay arrested Noah, it wasn’t for murdering his father. It was for the stabbing that killed Marcos Esperanza, the counselor.”
Kennedy stared at him stupidly. “But wait, when the detective came, he ...” She stopped. Had Drisklay actually said he was under arrest for the murder of his father?
Or just for murder? Was that why Drisklay took Noah in?
But he was innocent.
Wasn’t he?
“Wait a minute.” Kennedy did her best to replay the details of the conversation on Nick’s roof. “He had an alibi. A friend he was out with. I forget his name. Dawson? Something like that. The two of them were together. The bartender at this club coul
d vouch for them. They were jumped ...” She stopped when she noted the resigned sadness that clouded Carl’s dark complexion.
“That’s the same story he told his mom when he called her from the police station. Vivian phoned me earlier. Asked me to track down this friend, get the exact name of the bar.” He shook his head. “That woman would do just about anything to keep her son out of prison.”
Kennedy remembered how regal Vivian Abernathy had appeared when she confessed to her husband’s murder. She knew she’d be handcuffed and taken into the police station, but she had looked so stately. So calm.
“I know about this Dayton friend of Noah’s,” Carl continued. “His mom came to see me a few months back, wanted to know what she should do when she discovered her son was using a fake ID and sneaking into gay bars. After I talked with Vivian this morning, I called his mom. Explained that Noah was in trouble with the law so I needed Dayton to tell me where they were last night.”
Carl leveled his gaze. He had that same look in his eyes as Kennedy’s parents twelve years ago when they told her that her grandmother was dying. That blunt but painful honesty you find every so often in a nurse who has the decency to tell you when you’re a kid that yes, your shot’s going to hurt, but then you’ll be just fine.
Carl let out a heavy sigh. “Dayton’s spending the summer with his father. He’s been in Florida since June.”
Kennedy let the words sink in. “So that whole story was a lie? The gay bar, the bouncer, the skinhead? He made all that up?” Kennedy couldn’t believe it. Up on the patio of Nick’s apartment this morning, Noah had sounded so convincing. She remembered his weak stomach. That wasn’t the kind of thing even a trained thespian like her roommate could conjure up at will.
“People do crazy things when they’re scared.”
“Stupid things, you mean.” Kennedy didn’t get it. If all Noah was trying to do was establish an alibi, why did he pick something that was so easy to shatter?
“Like I said, he was probably scared. Told you guys the first thing that popped into his head.”
“But he’s the one who sought us out,” Kennedy protested. “He wouldn’t run right to us if he’d really been guilty.”
“No? He’s a kid, remember? A kid who’s accused of murdering his own counselor, whether or not he meant to. It’s very possible he turned to Nick because he didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“But he was so shaken up ...” Kennedy stopped. Maybe it made more sense than she was willing to admit. The upset stomach. The obvious guilt. The fear. Did he make up a story about beating someone up in self-defense in order to cover a more heinous crime?
She still didn’t want to believe it.
But maybe she would have to.
She and Carl stared at each other across his cluttered desk. She was so tired. She wished she could be like Woong and take a nap in the back of the Lindgrens’ Honda.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Sandy has a sandwich waiting for you in the car. Woong’s dozing, so she said you could take your time.”
“Pastor?” The timid voice at the doorway made Kennedy snap her head up in time to see Vivian Abernathy scurrying in. She looked something like a mouse scampering away from a cat. A mouse in high heels and a short skirt.
Vivian held a bundle of papers in her hand and set it on top of a pile of Carl’s unopened mail. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but you need to see something. I found the papers that explain why my husband was murdered.”
CHAPTER 29
Kennedy knew Carl must be as exhausted as she was, but he did a good job hiding it. His tired eyes had softened into pools of deep compassion as soon as Vivian entered his office. If anybody’s appearance could incite so much sympathy, it was Wayne Abernathy’s widow. One of her earrings was tangled in her hair. Smudged eyeliner circled both her eyes, reversing any effect she may have expected from the heavy concealer she’d layered on. Her blouse was tidy and unwrinkled, but she had forgotten to tuck it in in the back, and her tailored skirt was twisted a full forty-five degrees off center.
She sat down. Kennedy wondered if Vivian even noticed her there.
“The detective called and showed me the surveillance footage, that woman who came last night. He wanted to know if I’d ever seen her before. I hadn’t.” She turned as if startled and looked straight at Kennedy but didn’t pause before continuing. “At that point, I didn’t care how she killed my husband or why, I just had to know if he was being unfaithful.” She tilted up her chin. “And before you go and tell me all about how jealousy is a sin, let me finish my story, because it gets a lot more complicated than a simple affair.”
Carl was leaning forward in his chair but didn’t interrupt.
“I had to know the truth, so I went and checked Wayne’s emails. The detective took his personal computer, what was left of it after the fire, but I had his passwords on mine. We didn’t keep secrets, you know.” She wore a haughty look, as if she were daring Carl to suggest her husband had anything to hide.
“It took a little bit of digging, but I finally found these. I printed them all up. I was planning to drive them straight to the detective, but I just ... I don’t know. I needed to come to you first.”
Carl hadn’t touched the papers yet, and Kennedy wanted to scream at him to hurry up. She didn’t feel like she could find any real rest, any real peace, until she got some answers. Answers that were sitting six inches away from her in a bundle that Carl refused to handle.
“Go ahead.” Vivian pushed the stack toward him. “It’s all in there. This will explain everything.”
Carl frowned. Why was he waiting? Didn’t he want to know the truth? Was there something in the pile he was afraid of reading?
Vivian rummaged through the stack. She pulled out one of the middle papers and set it on the top. “Let me show you. Last week, my husband received an email from this unknown account. Look at these attachments.” She fanned out a few more pages and pointed with a blood-red nail that was slightly chipped at the end. “These are emails that my son sent to Marcos Esperanza. And over here ...” She spread out another bundle. “These are his replies. Conversations from the past five months. Conversations where my son divulges some very personal, very private ... Well, you know all about that side of it.”
Carl nodded. “Yes, I do.”
Vivian pulled out a page from the bottom of the stack. “See here, all these download attachments, I clicked on one. It was a tape recording of Noah’s phone call with this counselor. I didn’t listen long, just enough to know it’s something my son would never want exposed.” She shook her head. “From the day my husband entered the public arena, I prayed to God our kids would be spared from the scandals that so often fall on families like ours. Last year we went through everything with Jodie ... I thought that was bad.” She let out a discordant chuckle. “Anyway, three days ago the person writing from this email address demanded a hundred thousand dollars from my husband to keep these records private. I know it’s a sin for me to say so, but anyone who would betray my son’s confidence and try to extort my family like this is a villain who deserves worse than death. I’ll ask God to forgive me tomorrow, but today, I’m not at all ashamed to say it. I’m glad Marcos Esperanza is dead. And I hope right now he’s suffering every imaginable torment for the way he destroyed our family.”
CHAPTER 30
The gentle rebuke Kennedy expected from Carl never came. He sat silent for a moment, watching Vivian before he finally took one of her hands from across the desk. “I’m so sorry for what your family’s going through.”
Vivian was dabbing her face with a tissue when Woong’s screeching voice sounded at the door. “I’m hungry.”
Kennedy glanced at Carl and then forced herself to her feet. She could watch Woong for a few minutes so Carl and Vivian could have a little privacy. She shut the office door behind her.
“What’s your mom doing?” she asked Woong in Korean.
“Talking on the phone. That’s all she’s be
en doing the whole time we’ve been waiting.”
“I thought you were asleep.”
Woong kicked at the church carpet with his shoe. “Sometimes I just pretend so she leaves me alone. I didn’t think I’d have to sit in the car and listen to her blab for two hours. I’m still hungry.”
“It hasn’t been two hours. It’s only been about twenty minutes.” Kennedy tried to remember where in St. Margaret’s they kept the vending machine. By the youth room, probably. She led Woong down a side hall.
“But she just talks on and on and on.” Woong dashed forward the second the vending machine came into view, which also happened to be the same second Kennedy remembered she didn’t have any money with her. She was about to tell Woong they’d have to wait to eat, but he squatted down in front of the machine and flipped open the snack slot. Adroitly, he snaked his hand in and pulled out two bags of potato chips. “Here.” He tossed one of them to Kennedy.
She was so impressed he’d thought to share with her she decided not to chide him for stealing. “Thank you,” she said, making a mental note to give Carl the change she and Woong owed the machine as she popped a salty chip into her mouth.
“No, I just wanted you to open it for me.” He snatched the bag out of her hands.
She wasn’t all that hungry anyway. “Hey, does your mom know you came in here? I don’t want her getting worried.”
“She’s too busy blabbering.”
Kennedy thought back to the way her own mom used to hog the house phone for hours at a time. “Well, sometimes moms are like that. They’re so busy taking care of you that sitting down and talking to a friend makes them happy.”
