Tonight I Said Goodbye

rose up from the old cushion. She took a deep breath, rubbed her temples lightly with her fingers, and then looked up and forced a smile.

“All right,” she said. “Where do we start?”

“We start by planning a course of action,” Joe said. “I understand you’re afraid, Mrs. Weston, and I understand the reasons you had for not contacting the police, but that has to stop now. You have testimony and a tape that can put several people in jail. Several people who need to be put in jail.”

She nodded. “I understand that. But I also understand what will happen to me if I go to the police, Mr. Pritchard. There will be trials, won’t there? There will be trials for the Russian murderers, and there will be a trial for Jeremiah Hubbard, and probably a trial for whoever killed Randy Hartwick. Trials that will likely last for months. And I’ll be expected to testify at them, right? At all of them. What happens to my daughter during that time? She won’t be allowed to go to school, because people may try to abduct her or kill her. We won’t be allowed to live in our home, for the same reasons. So she’s going to spend the next six months—the next year, maybe—hidden away someplace with bodyguards? In the summer, when she should be at the swimming pool or playing with her friends, she’s going to be tucked away out of sight? Oh, and of course I won’t be able to allow her to turn on the television or pick up a newspaper, because she’s going to see Daddy’s face staring back at her or hear the television newscasters talking about the trials. I will not let that happen to my daughter, Mr. Pritchard.”

“With all due respect, Mrs. Weston, I don’t care,” Joe said. “You have information about several serious crimes. You need to come forward with that information.”

“What information?” she said, spreading her hands. “I have a tape of a murder. I’ve never even seen it. So give them the tape. The only testimony I could provide would be about my husband’s work with Jeremiah Hubbard. I don’t know anything about these Russian men. He didn’t tell me anything, and I did not ask. But I have that tape, and if I give that to the police, people are going to want to kill me. If I don’t give it to the police, they’re going to want to kill me.” She smiled bitterly. “I’m not very well liked.”

“So what do you want to do?” Joe said, and I could tell he was fighting to keep the exasperation out of his voice.

“I want to tell people the truth,” she said, and there was something in her voice that made me think of the night in the whirlpool, of the press of her body against mine. “I want to make it clear that my daughter and I are alive and that my husband was not a killer, and then I want to leave. I can’t stay here, obviously. Wayne understood that, and that’s why he tried to run. He can’t leave anymore, but I can. And I can take my daughter with me.”

“Where are you going to go?” Joe asked.

She smiled. “Please don’t think I lack trust in any of you, but I’ll keep that information to myself.”

Joe shrugged. “Fine. But I have to say that might be the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“Why’s that?”

“You’re afraid people are going to come after you for revenge, right? Well, if that’s true, why not go into witness protection and let the professionals help you disappear? It’s a much safer bet than running on your own.”

“He has a point,” I said.

She shook her head. “Ifwe go into witness protection, there will be people who know where we are. Someone, somewhere, will have the paperwork. Do you think Jeremiah Hubbard can’t buy that information? Do you think some clerk is going to turn down five, ten, fifteen million dollars just to give him an address?”

Joe frowned. “I thought we were worried about the Russians coming after you. Now it’s Hubbard?”

“It’s everyone, Mr. Pritchard. My husband was very good at what he did. He made plans for our . . . our disappearance, I guess you’d say. I trust my husband’s ability much more than I trust any government agency.”

“She may not have to testify,” I said, and they all looked at me. “She could sit down and give an interview to the prosecutor’s office or the district attorney, sign an affidavit, and go on her way. They’ll want her to testify, but it’s better to give them something instead of nothing. This could be taken care of much quicker, and she and Betsy can be gone much quicker.”

Joe shot me a look that said if he wanted any of my input he’d beat it out of me, and then he turned back to Julie.

“Ignore my dim-witted partner,” he said. “I’m not interested in issues of testimony or affidavits anymore. I’m just telling you that this idea you have of disappearing on your own is not a good one. People can be found, Mrs. Weston. We already found you once, and that was basically an accident. Do you really think you can hide from people determined to locate you?”

She leaned forward, gazing directly into his unhappy face, meeting him head-on in a clash of will and determination, and it seemed as if there were only the two of them in the room.

“Either way, we’re going to have to leave this place behind,” she said. “The life we knew is gone now. My husband is dead. Betsy is the only thing I have left, and I am going to take care of her on my terms. End of story.” She pointed at Amy. “I will do an interview with her, and she will see that the truth is told. If you insist that I provide the police with an affidavit, I will do that. But then I will leave, and I will take my daughter with me. I have broken no laws, and no one can force me to stay here.”

For a long time, Joe held her stare. Then he sighed and leaned back in his seat. “All right, Mrs. Weston. If you want to disappear again, we can’t stop you. But we can see that you do it right.”

She smiled at him, and this time there was warmth behind it. “Thank you.”

Joe waved his hand at Amy. “Go ahead and do your thing, Lois Lane. Is that a video camera I see?”

“Yes. Lincoln told me to bring it and an inkpad for fingerprints.”

“He’s not always dumb,” Joe said, “just most of the time. Get to work, then. We’ll leave you alone.” He looked at me and cocked his head in the direction of the deck. “LP, I’d like to see you outside for a minute.”

We went outside as Amy got to work setting up the video camera. I could tell she was excited, and I didn’t blame her; this was going to be the story of her career. I’d be sure to remind her of that in the future anytime I needed a favor.

Joe and I stood together on the deck, leaning against the railing and watching through the window as Amy and Julie talked.

“You don’t like it, do you?” I said.

He leaned over the railing and spit onto the grass. “No, LP, I don’t like it one damn bit. This isn’t a group of teenage punks she’s dealing with; it’s the most sophisticated organized crime outfit in the world. And one of the wealthiest—and apparently most devious—men in the state. Hiding from them isn’t going to be easy.”

“When Amy runs this story, Hubbard’s going to be under fire. He’s going to have bigger things on his mind than finding Julie and Betsy.”

“You think so?” He shrugged. “It may piss him off enough to make finding them his priority. But I’m more concerned with the Russians, at least for the immediate future. That tape is going to put a few of them in jail, and it’s also going to stir up some serious internal trouble when Belov finds out who killed his son. That adds up to some major motivation for them to find this woman and eliminate her. Even after we’ve turned the tape in, they’ll want her dead. You know how these mob guys are; revenge is the highest priority to them. And whacking Belov’s son wasn’t a one-man decision. For every guy that tape puts in jail, there will be three more on the streets who had a hand in it and will want Julie Weston dead.”

“How much power does Belov have?”

“Everything I’ve learned in the past two days suggests he has a lot of power. He’s big time.”

“Perfect. We can utilize that power. I’m thinking Belov would be awfully interested in seeing that tape. Could be, he’s even so interested in seeing it he’d be willing to make it clear to anyone involved that Julie and Betsy are not to be harmed. After all, they’re not producing a tape that will hurt him. They’re producing something he wants to see.”

Joe stared at me, considering the idea. “True. But the people the Westons need to fear clearly aren’t doing a good job of following through on Belov’s wishes. They killed his son, LP.”

“I figure once he has that tape he’ll go about handling the situation in his own way. A serious housecleaning is what I’m picturing.”

Joe nodded thoughtfully, understanding. “Some people are probably going to die.”

“Hell,” I said, “they’re going to die anyhow. When we turn that tape over to the police, it’s a matter of time