Deceptions
Page 30
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“And?”
“I tried to hold her crimes in my head, like a barrier. It took effort to keep that wall up, but I managed it, and I came to accept that she could have been a good mother and a murderer. When I found out she wasn’t responsible for the deaths of Jan and Peter, it was . . .” I trailed off, trying to find the right words. “It was a relief,” I said after a moment. “A sign that maybe she could be innocent. But I also knew that I had to steel myself against the possibility that if Gabriel and I keep digging, I’ll find out she killed six people.” I looked at him. “I can’t do that with Todd.”
“Can’t do what?” he asked, his voice soft.
“Keep the wall up. I can’t . . . Damn it.” Tears pricked my eyes. “I can’t find that wall, Ricky. I couldn’t even look at him right away. When he walked in, I was ready to flee, and then I heard his voice and there was no doubt. Everything in me said, ‘This is my father. And my father is not a killer.’”
“You don’t want to think that way.”
“No, I don’t. It makes me feel like a gullible fool. But when I walked out of that visiting room yesterday, all I could think was that we’ve got to move faster on this case, forget everything else and focus on proving them innocent.”
“What did Gabriel say about that?”
“I never told him. The rest of the evening was . . . not exactly conducive to conversation.”
“The bar.”
I looked over.
“I texted him,” he said. “I know you said you were fine, but I wanted to be sure. I asked him to give me a call and when he did, I could hear the music. Not a chance of talking in that place.”
“You spoke to him?”
“Sure. He insisted you were fine, which I suspected you weren’t, but . . . he thought you were doing okay, and I didn’t feel right running over if you’d rather I didn’t.”
Gabriel had told Ricky he shouldn’t come? After I had made it clear—very clear—that I wanted to see him?
“Liv?”
I pushed down the rising anger. “Sorry, just . . . Goddamn it, Gabriel!”
Ricky chuckled. “I’m guessing he missed a few cues that you weren’t fine.”
“Just a few.”
“I’m also guessing that’s why you didn’t talk to him about Todd. It’s one thing if Todd gave you proof he was innocent, but it would be hard to say to Gabriel that you feel he’s innocent. He won’t understand.”
“And he’d think I was being foolish.”
Ricky made a face. “I wouldn’t go that far. He just won’t get it. Either way, maybe you should push harder on your parents’ case—”
The jangle of “Big Boss Man” cut him short. In the past, when that ring tone sounded, Ricky would roll his eyes, but when he answered there was always a warmth in his voice that belied the grumbling. I’m sure I used to do the same when my dad called—no matter how inconvenient the timing, I was always happy to hear from him. Now Ricky tensed, like a deer spotting a shotgun.
“You should answer it,” I said softly.
“I know.” He did, saying, “Hey.” His face stayed tight as he listened and then said, “Actually, we were heading up to the cabin early. Liv has the day off.” As Don replied, Ricky relaxed. “Okay, sure.” A soft laugh. “Yeah, I know. I set out a few traps when we were up the last time.”
I walked to the pond to give him privacy while I checked my own phone. No texts. No messages. A few e-mails, the last from Gabriel. Changing his mind about giving me two days off? God, I hoped not.
I opened Gabriel’s e-mail so I could shoot back a quick response before we hit the road. Then I read his message.
I’ve tried calling, but you aren’t answering your phone. Something urgent has come up. I need you to meet me as soon as possible. It’s in regards to the Larsen case and not something I wish to put in an e-mail. I’ll be at the address below. I’ll expect you there within the hour. This is important, Olivia.
I checked the call log. While it was not impossible that I could have been too, um, preoccupied to hear my phone ring, there weren’t any missed calls. But my cell service fluttered, the bars rising and falling.
I called Gabriel. It went straight to voice mail. I hung up and walked back to Ricky, who was on his feet, tugging on his T-shirt.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yep. I suspect something came up and he was hoping I could get to it before I headed out. When I said we were leaving right away, he just wished us a good trip and asked if I’d pop into town to check messages tonight and tomorrow morning, in case he needs to contact me. Which is protocol anyway.”
“So situation normal?”
“For now. Let’s hope it stays that way.” He looked down at the cell still in my hand.
“Gabriel,” I said.
He swore. I passed over the phone with the message on the screen. As he read it, he swore some more, but said, “You do want to move on your parents’ case. We’ll get this over with and then take off.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It was not a short drive. Fifty-five minutes, in fact. Luckily, the route was easy enough—straight up the shore of Lake Michigan. We arrived on a quiet country lane. I spotted the rental Jag pulled over ahead, Gabriel standing at the roadside. I swore I could feel his impatience strumming from a hundred yards away.
“I tried to hold her crimes in my head, like a barrier. It took effort to keep that wall up, but I managed it, and I came to accept that she could have been a good mother and a murderer. When I found out she wasn’t responsible for the deaths of Jan and Peter, it was . . .” I trailed off, trying to find the right words. “It was a relief,” I said after a moment. “A sign that maybe she could be innocent. But I also knew that I had to steel myself against the possibility that if Gabriel and I keep digging, I’ll find out she killed six people.” I looked at him. “I can’t do that with Todd.”
“Can’t do what?” he asked, his voice soft.
“Keep the wall up. I can’t . . . Damn it.” Tears pricked my eyes. “I can’t find that wall, Ricky. I couldn’t even look at him right away. When he walked in, I was ready to flee, and then I heard his voice and there was no doubt. Everything in me said, ‘This is my father. And my father is not a killer.’”
“You don’t want to think that way.”
“No, I don’t. It makes me feel like a gullible fool. But when I walked out of that visiting room yesterday, all I could think was that we’ve got to move faster on this case, forget everything else and focus on proving them innocent.”
“What did Gabriel say about that?”
“I never told him. The rest of the evening was . . . not exactly conducive to conversation.”
“The bar.”
I looked over.
“I texted him,” he said. “I know you said you were fine, but I wanted to be sure. I asked him to give me a call and when he did, I could hear the music. Not a chance of talking in that place.”
“You spoke to him?”
“Sure. He insisted you were fine, which I suspected you weren’t, but . . . he thought you were doing okay, and I didn’t feel right running over if you’d rather I didn’t.”
Gabriel had told Ricky he shouldn’t come? After I had made it clear—very clear—that I wanted to see him?
“Liv?”
I pushed down the rising anger. “Sorry, just . . . Goddamn it, Gabriel!”
Ricky chuckled. “I’m guessing he missed a few cues that you weren’t fine.”
“Just a few.”
“I’m also guessing that’s why you didn’t talk to him about Todd. It’s one thing if Todd gave you proof he was innocent, but it would be hard to say to Gabriel that you feel he’s innocent. He won’t understand.”
“And he’d think I was being foolish.”
Ricky made a face. “I wouldn’t go that far. He just won’t get it. Either way, maybe you should push harder on your parents’ case—”
The jangle of “Big Boss Man” cut him short. In the past, when that ring tone sounded, Ricky would roll his eyes, but when he answered there was always a warmth in his voice that belied the grumbling. I’m sure I used to do the same when my dad called—no matter how inconvenient the timing, I was always happy to hear from him. Now Ricky tensed, like a deer spotting a shotgun.
“You should answer it,” I said softly.
“I know.” He did, saying, “Hey.” His face stayed tight as he listened and then said, “Actually, we were heading up to the cabin early. Liv has the day off.” As Don replied, Ricky relaxed. “Okay, sure.” A soft laugh. “Yeah, I know. I set out a few traps when we were up the last time.”
I walked to the pond to give him privacy while I checked my own phone. No texts. No messages. A few e-mails, the last from Gabriel. Changing his mind about giving me two days off? God, I hoped not.
I opened Gabriel’s e-mail so I could shoot back a quick response before we hit the road. Then I read his message.
I’ve tried calling, but you aren’t answering your phone. Something urgent has come up. I need you to meet me as soon as possible. It’s in regards to the Larsen case and not something I wish to put in an e-mail. I’ll be at the address below. I’ll expect you there within the hour. This is important, Olivia.
I checked the call log. While it was not impossible that I could have been too, um, preoccupied to hear my phone ring, there weren’t any missed calls. But my cell service fluttered, the bars rising and falling.
I called Gabriel. It went straight to voice mail. I hung up and walked back to Ricky, who was on his feet, tugging on his T-shirt.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yep. I suspect something came up and he was hoping I could get to it before I headed out. When I said we were leaving right away, he just wished us a good trip and asked if I’d pop into town to check messages tonight and tomorrow morning, in case he needs to contact me. Which is protocol anyway.”
“So situation normal?”
“For now. Let’s hope it stays that way.” He looked down at the cell still in my hand.
“Gabriel,” I said.
He swore. I passed over the phone with the message on the screen. As he read it, he swore some more, but said, “You do want to move on your parents’ case. We’ll get this over with and then take off.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
It was not a short drive. Fifty-five minutes, in fact. Luckily, the route was easy enough—straight up the shore of Lake Michigan. We arrived on a quiet country lane. I spotted the rental Jag pulled over ahead, Gabriel standing at the roadside. I swore I could feel his impatience strumming from a hundred yards away.
