A Welcome Grave

She didn’t respond, and I followed her into the living room.

“Thanks for joining us,” Targent said. He was sitting on the low stone ledge that ran below the fireplace. Daly was missing in action.

“I’ve got something for you,” I said. “While you’ve been busy getting useless search warrants, my partner and I have actually done some investigating.”

“Oh?” His face didn’t change. Karen looked interested, though.

“You ever heard of a man named Andy Doran?” I asked. I said it to both of them but watched Karen. The name didn’t seem to mean anything to her.

“Nope,” Targent answered, and Karen shook her head.

“He went to jail five years ago for murdering a girl out by Geneva-on-the-Lake. The first witness—only witness, actually—to identify him was Matt Jefferson. Matt called his father the night of the murder, then went back to the cops the next day and changed his account of the night in a way that implicated Doran, who was then arrested. Doran said he’d been set up but eventually took a plea for twenty years.”

Targent wasn’t looking at me. He had his head down, tracing the edge of the stone shelf with his index finger.

“So he’s in jail,” he said. “Makes it tough for him to wreak such havoc, don’t you think?”

“He’s out, Targent. Broke out of prison by hiding on a garbage truck about a month ago. It was, in fact, immediately before Jefferson got his first disturbing phone call.”

Targent rolled his head and looked at me. “So the idea is the guy was so pissed off that Jefferson’s son identified him that he came after him and his father as soon as he broke out? Give me a break, Perry.”

“Maybe he’s not just pissed off that he was identified. Maybe there’s more to it than that.”

“Such as?”

I glanced at Karen. “He told police he’d been set up.”

I could tell Karen didn’t like this. She saw where I was going with it and shook her head.

“Doesn’t every criminal say they were set up?”

“Exactly,” Targent said.

“My partner and I have already uncovered some fairly appalling evidence of how corrupt the case against him was.”

I hadn’t decided until that point that I would tell them about Donny Ward. Part of me still thought it was too early, but I’d also expected to receive at least a meager amount of interest from Targent. So far, I wasn’t getting that.

“Doran told police he had an alibi,” I said. “Told them he’d been with a friend all night. When the cops interviewed the friend, this guy pretended to have no idea what Doran was talking about.”

“He probably didn’t.”

I shook my head. “Joe and I interviewed him this afternoon. He had plenty of reason to lie to the cops back then, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a lie.”

I explained Ward’s story, but Targent’s expression didn’t change; there was still no trace of anything but skepticism and strained patience in his face.

“Isn’t that enough for you, Targent? Don’t you think this is at least worth checking out?”

“I’ll check it out, because that’s my job, but my perspective right now is that this is more than a stretch. You’re forcing it. Even if everything you’ve told me is true, I don’t see the connection between this and Alex Jefferson.”

“It’s there. Trust me, it’s there. The guy who attacked me on the street told me Jefferson and his son had —”

“Hang on.” Targent held up his hand to interrupt me. “This is all fascinating stuff, don’t get me wrong, but I’ve got a few points to make before we get lost in this. What did you just say?”

I frowned. “That the guy who attacked me—”

“No. Before that. You said the connection was there, and then you said . . .” He waited.

“Trust me.”

He nodded. “That’s the one. That’s what I was looking for. You said, ‘Trust me.’ As if you’re a reliable source of information to this investigation. As if you’re not lying to me now, haven’t been in the past.”

“That’s right.”

“Okay. Let’s all keep that statement in mind while we watch a movie.”

“What?”

“Mrs. Jefferson and I were about to watch a movie when you joined us. I’m glad you’ll be here for the viewing. I think that’s most appropriate.”

Karen was seated in the far corner of the couch, tucked back into it, as far away as she could get from both Targent and me.

“Mrs. Jefferson and I have talked about last night’s events,” Targent continued. “We both agree that it’s unusual that this, um, predator has chosen to go through you if all he wants is money from her. Why pull you off the street before he’d even contacted her? Why shoot up your gym?”

I looked at Karen, and there was a quality in her eyes that I didn’t understand. Was it an apology or an accusation? More like something in between, I thought, and then I got it. She was suspicious. Targent had actually pulled that off. Karen was suspicious of me. She didn’t want to be, felt bad about it—that was the touch of apology I saw in the look—but she was, anyhow.

“Karen,” I said. “You know this is insane.”

“I know you have nothing to do with this,” she said. “I’m just confused. I don’t understand why someone is making it seem like you do. This man in Indiana who said you hired him—”

“You told her that?” I said to Targent.

“It’s relevant to the investigation. I’m trying to keep her up to date.”

I shook my head, disgusted. “I don’t know what to tell you about that, Karen, except that it’s a lie. I never hired that guy.”

“I believe you.”

“Back to my movie,” Targent said.

“You’ve got to at least hear me out on Doran. There’s more here than you understand.”

“I’m sure there is. I find it fascinating that you’d locate this suspect with a grudge so quickly after I informed you—and Mrs. Jefferson—that Brewer had heard something along those lines in Indiana. That’s a real neat trick of timing, Perry. As was that violent incident at your gym last night.”

“You’ve seen the tape of that. You know what happened, and you know it wasn’t some elaborate facade.”

For a long moment, he just sat and looked at me. His eyes flicked to Karen for an instant, as if to make sure she was watching, and then back.

“I’ve been talking to Mrs. Jefferson about the fingerprint we found in her husband’s car. This man named Thor.”

Shit. That was the last thing I wanted Karen to know about.

“Met with Detective Swanders again today, as well as one of the organized crime guys at the FBI,” he continued. “There are people down there who are pretty disgusted with you. People who think you withheld some very important information about the Russians. Some believe you might have interacted directly with Dainius Belov when all that was going on. This Thor guy, they told me, he probably would have been around. Sounds like he’s Belov’s top lieutenant. I asked the guy at the bureau to give me odds on you knowing Thor, and he said ten to one.”

Karen would not meet my eyes. She was watching Targent and would not turn my way.

“You want to tell Mrs. Jefferson how you’re acquainted with Thor?”

“Already told you, I don’t know the man.”

Targent picked up a remote control and turned to the big plasma television beside him. He turned it on and then punched a few buttons on the remote, and the screen turned to a grainy black-and-white image of my gym. It was from my own security cameras, and it showed the front of the weight room, where I stood by the blown-out window with a curl bar in my hands and Thor in front of me.

“Can you tell us who that gentleman is?” Targent said.