He nodded and Becky left to join her parents outside.
It was nine P.M., time to go. His aunt and uncle were waiting in the other room. All the chairs were empty. The funeral was tomorrow morning at Holy Name Church in Derry.
For the last time he stood at the casket. Yes, she was beautiful. And now she was something grotesque and hard.
He knelt on the low padded stool. He wasn’t religious, so he didn’t pray. He closed his eyes, and like a movie projected on the inside of his skull, he saw her laughing, reading from a script in front of the mirror. Giving him smirky looks. Crying. Fighting with his father. Folding into her funk; angry, bitter, wounded. He saw her give him those withering looks, then the far askew stares, and the sulking mask that scared him more than death itself.
He also saw her cupping his face and kissing him to make some hurt go away. And like flicking channels, there she was dancing before him in those maddening, forbidden black nylons, peeling off one then the other and drawing it teasingly from his body to hers, entwining their sexes.
And he saw her radiant with happiness in the Algonquin Room.
He saw her at the bathroom mirror, brushing that glorious burnt rose mane. He knew he would never ever see or smell that hair again, so before the police cut her down he snipped off a lock.
My Beauty Boy,
I’m so sorry, but I have been bad and cannot live with my sins any longer. Please remember the good me. And may Jesus be with you.
Love, Lila
Her secret death note to him. Her exit line.
His eyes fell on the crucifix hanging above the casket.
Jesus. For eternity he was going to hang in her dead cleavage in mute fourteen-carat gold while she shriveled to a mummy.
He slammed the casket with the flat of his hand and walked into the night.
67
Over the two days following the break-in, Neil’s computer hard drives had yielded no incriminating evidence connecting him to Terry Farina or the Novak woman, although that case was still being considered coincidental. Likewise, the Wolford stockings had, in fact, been purchased by his daughter and were found in their still unopened packages in her room.
Although Neil’s suspension from duty was now officially over, Steve and he had not crossed paths at headquarters. But he did leave a message on Neil’s cell phone apologizing for the break-in. He explained the circumstances behind the unwarranted search. “It was a desperate measure, and I’d understand completely if you reported it to the captain,” he added, knowing that the consequences could mean his and Sergeant Dacey’s suspension from the force.
But Neil did not return the call, nor had he apparently reported the incident, since Steve had not been red- carpeted. He also had not reported his suspicion that Steve had been with Terry Farina in Conor Larkins before she was murdered.
And maybe he’d dig a little deeper on the guy before he went to Reardon and fessed up.
That was what Steve told himself as he drove to visit Dana.
He had not seen her since the operation. Nor had they talked. But she had left a brief message that it had gone well but that she didn’t want visitors until the discomfort and draining was behind her. Then today she left a message to drop by that evening after work.
“It looks much worse than it feels,” she said when she met him at the door.
Her face was heavily bandaged, with a thick packing running down her nose and tape crisscrossing under her eyes and across her brow. The flesh of her upper face was swollen and purple and her eyes were bloodshot. Once again, Steve could not help but see Terry Farina’s choked-up purple face. “I certainly hope so.”
She led him into the kitchen where she had been sipping a milkshake through a straw. The doctor had put her on a liquid diet for a few days. While she described what little she recalled, Steve was having difficulty imagining how different she’d look once the dressing came off. In fact, he was having difficulty trying to remember her old nose.
“What time’s the appointment?”
“Eleven tomorrow morning.”
“Excited?”
“Nervous. He said he took off the hump and thinned it down. Which means I’m probably five pounds lighter.”
Steve laughed.
“And you’ll be happy to know he gave me a break on the fee—four thousand.”
“That’s nearly half. How come?”
“He had another operation that same day and didn’t need to double-book the OR team.”
“Two in the same day?”
“He’s trying to get all his commitments behind him before he leaves for vacation.”
“There was something on him in the paper the other day, something about an award.”
“Yeah, he’s pretty high-profile.”
“Do we know if he’s gay or not?”
“I don’t think he is. He was married before. His wife died some years ago.” She got up and rinsed out her glass. “I’ve got to get to bed.”
He got up. “I’m still hoping we could talk.”
“About what?”