To Darkness And To Death

“Come back?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“I have-” The last word was swallowed in static.

“Come back?”

“I have a message from your wife. ‘Don’t forget you promised-’” A squeal of static wiped Harlene’s words away.

He didn’t ask her to repeat. He knew what the message was. He stared down at Hayes, lifting his collection box on his shoulder as his tech tagged along with the light. This place would be dark within the hour. They had an unaccounted-for death in the morgue, an unaccounted-for woman somewhere out there, and an unaccounted-for assault suspect on the loose. If ever he should be on the job, it was tonight.

He thought about what Linda had said, about her work. It’s my turn now.

“Tell my wife I’ll be there as promised. Chief out.”

He stood for a moment in the freshening breeze, the last of the sun-warmed air flowing toward the cold dark. At the mountains’ edge, the sky was enough to make a man believe in glory, red-orange and pink and lavender. It was going to be cold and beautiful tonight, no clouds, the moon one day from full.

Too bad Eugene van der Hoeven and Millie van der Ho-even and Becky Castle couldn’t enjoy it. He closed his eyes briefly before turning from the beauty. Back to work.

3:20 P.M.

Once, Lisa Schoof had driven home drunk. She hadn’t been Lisa Schoof then but Lisa Bain, nineteen, partying all afternoon at Lake George and then setting off home because she had to work early the next morning. She had been muzzy-headed, happy, sailing along, until she saw the state trooper in her rearview mirror.

Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God, she had thought. She was going to get arrested. She was going to be disgraced, fined, lose her license, which would mean losing her job. The world narrowed around her. Some things faded away-the green of the trees, the other cars, the music on the radio. Other things sprang into terrible clarity-the lines painted on the road, the odometer, her rearview mirror. She drove for miles and miles, her heart pounding, all the time intensely aware of the lines, the speed, the cop car relentlessly behind her.

She felt that way now, standing at the door with Kevin Flynn, watching her husband sitting in the front seat. Why wasn’t he getting out? Any moment now, Kevin was going to ask her what was taking so long, and then he’d walk over there and pull Randy from the truck, and then-

Randy opened the door. He sauntered toward them, smiling, but Lisa knew it was a fake smile, knew this was a Randy she had never seen. His teeth glared in the sunlight, like the headlights of the state trooper in her rearview mirror, and as she looked away from his face, unable to bear the sight, she saw he had blood on his clothes.

Blood. On his clothes. And he was walking toward her, saying, “Hey, honey,” walking toward her, and Lisa thought her driveway was stretching down one of those optical illusion tunnels in the Washington County Fair funhouse, stretching out forever.

She heard Kevin Flynn breathe in, saw the rise of his starched tan uniform shirt, and between then and the moment he opened his mouth, she had time to think, Should I yell, ‘Run?’ If I knock Kevin to one side, will Randy have time to get away? But instead of ordering her husband to stop, Kevin said, “Hey, Randy. How you been?”

“Been good,” Randy said, and he marched up the front steps one, two, three with his big fake smile and grabbed her hand, grabbed it. There was the real Randy, his hand shaking, holding on to her tight enough to break bones. He kissed her cheek casually. “Good hunting weather, I can’t complain. My buddy Mike took a buck.”

“Good on you,” Kevin said, his voice betraying no suspicion, no reservations, no coolness.

“I’ve been helping him dress it out,” Randy said. “He’s giving us some choice cuts, babe. Get out the grill, ’cause I have a hankering for Bambi burgers.”

The men laughed. Lisa, squeezing against the pressure of her husband’s hand, was focusing too hard to join in. Was that a bruise on Randy’s face? A scratch on the back of his hand?

“Hey,” Kevin said, “I stopped by because I wanted to ask you and Lisa if you saw anything suspicious when you were at Haudenosaunee.”

Something flickered over Randy’s face, and for the first time, it struck Lisa that there might be a connection between Eugene van der Hoeven’s death and his presence there. She looked at him, this man she had known since she was in sixth grade, and wondered what he was capable of. If he could beat a woman into unconsciousness…

“What do you mean, suspicious?” Randy asked.

“Out of the ordinary.”

“Nope. Nothing. Except that Lisa wasn’t there.”

She squeezed his hand. “You forgot I told you you didn’t need to pick me up today, didn’t you?” she said, her teasing voice as fake as his smile.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You didn’t see any other vehicles?”

His hand went still in hers. “What’s this all about?”

“Did you see any other vehicles? Any sign that anyone else was there?”

Time slowed down again. She could see Randy’s mind working furiously, wondering which was the right answer. Kevin had said Randy was one of the last people to see Mr. van der Hoeven alive. The important thing was that he not be the last person to have seen him alive.

“Oh, honey, it’s terrible,” she burst out. “Mr. van der Hoeven’s been killed!”

Randy’s jaw dropped. He pulled his hand from hers and stared at her as if she had spoken Swahili. “He’s what?”

At that moment, Lisa had never been happier. Whatever else he had done, Randy had nothing to do with Mr. van der Hoeven’s death. Suppressing her giddy relief made her voice shake, so it sounded as if she were trying to keep from falling apart when she said, “The police think it happened sometime after all the search and rescue team folks left. Were you there after everybody else was gone? If you know anything, it may help them find whoever did this to…” Her voice broke, of its own accord.

“Oh. Wow.” Randy turned to Kevin Flynn, who had flipped open his little notebook again.

“Did you see any other vehicles?” Kevin asked for the third time.

“Yes,” Randy said. “They must have belonged to the search and rescue guys. I ran into Chief Van Alstyne, and he told me about van der Hoeven’s sister being missing.”

Kevin went on with “Did you see Eugene van der Hoeven while you were there?”

“I didn’t see anybody. I wandered around a bit, looking for Lisa. I yelled for her a few times, but nobody answered me.”

“Randy!” Her indignation popped out, as if there were still a need to worry about what Mr. van der Hoeven would think.

“Sorry, honey.” He shrugged at Kevin. “If there was anybody in there, they were keeping quiet.”

“Okay.” Kevin shut the notebook. “Thanks for your time.” He took a step toward his cruiser. Stopped. As if he had thought of something else. He turned to Randy. “Do you know a Becky Castle?”

Randy was silent. He had recaptured Lisa’s hand and was squeezing it harder than ever.

“There was a Becky Castle a few years ahead of us in school.” Lisa was amazed at how normal her voice sounded. If she lived through this, she was going to Hollywood, because she was one hell of an actress.

“Castle,” Randy said. “Is she related to Ed Castle? I used to work for him. Last year.”

Lisa cast about for a plausible question. “Is she a suspect?”

“Oh. No. Just a thought I had.” Kevin’s eyes had gone unfocused. “Thanks,” he said vaguely.

“Don’t forget to call Denise,” Lisa said.

With a flush of red beneath his freckles, Kevin came back to earth. He mumbled something under his breath and waved before trotting to his car.

Lisa waited until he had pulled up the drive and out of sight before she turned to Randy. “Inside. Now,” she hissed. “We have to talk.”