“Almost positive. There are certain indentations on the skin, which the local doctor thought might be consistent with the impact of the car. I don’t think so; I think they were made by large fingers pressing down very hard. But I would have had to examine the body to be sure.”
“Thanks, Janet, I really appreciate it.”
“Andy, I understand the victim was an attorney and he was working with you. Just be careful, okay? The person who did this is very strong. And there was no hesitation; the neck was snapped instantly, like a twig.”
“How did you know it was an attorney that was killed?”
“I spoke to Laurie. We talk all the time.”
It’s amazing. For the last four and a half months I thought Laurie had completely cut off from her life and friends in Jersey. It turns out that I seem to be the only one she wasn’t speaking to on a regular basis.
• • • • •
DINNER TONIGHT IS more than a little weird.
Laurie comes over and cooks my favorite,
Laurie and I have always tried not to talk about our work during dinner, but we rarely succeed. Tonight, since the entire team is present, we have no chance at all. Laurie is the guilty party this time, when she tells us that “I got Calvin’s phone records from the night he died.”
“Anything interesting?”
She nods. “And upsetting. He called me at the office.”
“Any idea why?”
“Even before I called you and told you about this case, I had spoken to Calvin and expressed my doubts about Jeremy’s guilt. I told him that he should call me at any time if he needed my help.”
“Did anyone at the precinct speak to him that night?” Kevin asks. He is apparently going to be the designated speaker for him and Marcus, since Marcus’s mouth is processing pasta at an unprecedented rate.
“Apparently not,” Laurie says. “I have to assume that when he found out I wasn’t in, he hung up. The call only lasted about thirty seconds.”
I know Laurie is feeling guilt over not having been there for Calvin that night, and I am as well, even though our feelings are irrational. We had no way of knowing he would call that night, and obviously no reason to have waited around for that call. But the fact that Calvin died while we were enjoying a relaxing dinner is locked in our minds, so we can still feel the pain.
After dinner Laurie goes off to answer a duty call, probably a cheese overdose, and Marcus goes wherever it is that Marcus goes. It leaves Kevin and me to kick around our strategy for finding the elusive Eddie Carson.
“Why don’t you call Sam Willis?” Kevin asks.
“What for?”
“Maybe he can track the kid down on the Internet. Maybe through credit card usage, or something like that.”
It’s a very good idea, made even better by the fact that we have no other ideas, so I call Sam.
“So how did it go?” asks Sam when he hears it’s me. “Was the stuff I got helpful?”
“Very helpful,” I say. “It identified our guy for us, but he’s missing. Any chance you could find him online?”
Sam is uncharacteristically dubious about the prospects for doing so. “Theoretically, I could do it, but it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack. I wouldn’t know where to look; I would have to stumble onto it.”
It’s while I’m talking to Sam that I get an idea that could work. I try to get him off the phone quickly, but he asks me about Laurie and how things are going between us.
“They’re fine, Sam, but I’ve-”
“Watch out for yourself, Andy, I mean it. I’ve been there myself.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“Sometimes you have to be the one to end things no matter how tough it seems.”
My fear is that he’s going to start song-talking and maybe tell me that “breaking up is hard to do.” I don’t want to be rude, since Sam has been such a big help, but I really want to get off this call.
“Sam… ,” I start, to no avail.
“I thought I told you about her,” he says. “Her name was Margaret… we were both twenty, and I was leaving school to run away with her. She drove me crazy.”
“Sam, can we talk about this some other time?”
Apparently, we can’t, because he continues as if I hadn’t said anything. “Things started going sour, my parents were freaking out that I wouldn’t graduate, and I wanted to break it off, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Then one night I couldn’t sleep, and about four o’clock in the morning I got up the nerve.”
I give up. “What did you say?”
“I leaned over and said, ‘Wake up, Maggie, I think I got something to say to you. It’s late September and I really should be back at school.’ ”
“Bye, Sam.”
“Bye, Andy.”
Once I’m off the phone, I immediately dial Cindy Spodek at her house in Boston. Cindy is an FBI agent whom I got to know on a previous case. Her boss at the Bureau was directing criminal activities, and Cindy blew the whistle on him. It took considerable courage, and Cindy had to deal with strong internal resistance afterward. She has persevered, moved to the Boston office, and gotten a promotion. I’ve called on her for a number of favors since, and she’s always come through, albeit grudgingly.
“Hello?” she answers, her voice sounding simultaneously groggy and worried. I check my watch and realize that it’s eleven-fifteen in Boston.
“Cindy, Andy Carpenter. How are you? Am I calling too late? I forgot what time it is back East.”
“Andy… yes. Much too late.”
“Well, the damage is done. I need a favor.”
“That’s a major surprise. Can it wait until morning?”
“I suppose so, but I don’t want you beating yourself up all night over not helping me when I needed you.”
“I can handle the guilt,” she says, at which point I hear a man’s voice say, “Cindy, who is it?”
She answers him with, “It’s for me, honey.”
“What ‘honey’ are you talking to at this hour?” I ask.
“My husband, if that’s okay with you. Remember, the wedding was in May? It’s the one you didn’t come to.”
“Right. But I sent a gift.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“Right. But I planned to, which is really what’s important.”
“Hey,” she says, “what do you mean you forgot the time back East? Where are you?”
I tell her about being in Findlay and about taking on the case. All she really cares about is that Laurie and I are in the same town. “So what’s going on with you two? Are you back together?”
“You really want to know?” I ask, sensing an opening.
“Of course,” she says.
“So listen to my favor, and then I’ll tell you about me and Laurie.”
“You’re a shithead,” she says, defeated.
“You got that right,” I say, victorious. “Now tell ‘honey’ to go back to sleep while you help your friend Andy.”
I proceed to explain our need to find the elusive Eddie, and ask her whether she can utilize the FBI computers to do so. I know from past experience that if they are tracking someone, they can find out on a moment’s notice whenever that person does something that enters a computer anywhere, like using a credit card.
“Are you insane?” she asks. “You think you can use the FBI as your own private investigative agency?”
