her copy of my manuscript back to me.
“Thanks so much. I don’t know how I’d do this without all of you.”
“You couldn’t.” Carleigh laughed, then lifted her glass of iced tea. “To our future writing project.”
Glasses clinked all around the table.
Lacey peered at me over the top of her Wedgwood teacup. She took a sip, returned the cup to its saucer, and continued to watch me. Waiting.
There was no reason for me to pretend that nothing was wrong. We’d met too many times over these Tuesday morning breakfasts. “The detective that came to our house, he’s showing up other places now.”
She looked at me with eyes the palest shade of blue I’d ever seen. “What kind of places?”
“He stopped by Rick’s jobsite.”
Lacey laughed twice, before it turned into the usual dry cough. She hacked for a few beats, then took a sip of water and a deep breath. She was still grinning when she spoke. “Stopped by his jobsite? I can imagine how well that went over.”
Rick had worked his way from carpenter to top construction superintendent in record time, partly due to his impeccable work ethic. He maintained strict rules about what constituted an appropriate time to call or stop by while he was at work. There were very few situations deemed serious enough to be appropriate. “Yeah, I’m sure all the guys wondered what a cop wanted with Rick.” I rubbed my index finger along the graceful curve of the teapot’s handle. “Come to think of it, I guess they really didn’t. They all just assumed it was something about Kurt.”
“And they were right enough about that, I suppose. You said ‘places,’ plural, so where else has he showed up?”
“He came to the seminar last weekend.”
“He showed up at your grief seminar?” The wrinkles in her forehead deepened as she pondered this. “Did he make a scene?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t even know he was there until the very end of my talk. He sat in the back row, and when I was taking questions he asked me about Nick.”
“What’d he ask?”
“If it helped ease my grief knowing the guilty party was in jail, if I thought that all parents whose children were victims of violent offenders wanted to see justice for their child’s murderer, or something to that effect.”
Lacey stared out her window and nodded slowly. “He’s trying to crank up the pressure on you, there’s no doubt about that.”
“He must think I know something that I’m not telling him.” I took a sip of my tea. “I wish I did. I’d give anything to know exactly where Kurt is this very minute, how he’s doing.” And how I prayed the answer to that question was that my son was truly in rehab. Those were not the kinds of doubts I cared to voice, so I did what I always do, put on an upbeat front. “Besides, if I knew the exact date he checked in and could prove that, it would get Kurt’s name taken right off the list. An alibi that would leave no doubt, that’s what I want.”
“You’re right about that. We just have to hope the kid went to rehab before the murder. I still have some friends from my law days, and from what I’ve heard, the police are grasping at anything they can right now. It sounds like there was no hard evidence left behind. All they have is the list of people who owed the dead guy money. I’m sure they’re hoping if they put enough pressure on the usual suspects, eventually someone’s going to slip.”
“I don’t see why he’s so intent on talking to Kurt. He said himself he’d met Kurt a few times and thought he was a good kid just messed up in the wrong thing.”
“Baby, have you been reading the paper lately? Two gang fights, a stabbing on the east side, and several tourists robbed at gunpoint. Those are the kinds of stories that send the Chamber of Commerce into full-blown panic mode. The businesses are demanding action, the mayor’s running scared. This whole city is worked up over the whole violent crime issue right now.
“Thanks so much. I don’t know how I’d do this without all of you.”
“You couldn’t.” Carleigh laughed, then lifted her glass of iced tea. “To our future writing project.”
Glasses clinked all around the table.
Lacey peered at me over the top of her Wedgwood teacup. She took a sip, returned the cup to its saucer, and continued to watch me. Waiting.
There was no reason for me to pretend that nothing was wrong. We’d met too many times over these Tuesday morning breakfasts. “The detective that came to our house, he’s showing up other places now.”
She looked at me with eyes the palest shade of blue I’d ever seen. “What kind of places?”
“He stopped by Rick’s jobsite.”
Lacey laughed twice, before it turned into the usual dry cough. She hacked for a few beats, then took a sip of water and a deep breath. She was still grinning when she spoke. “Stopped by his jobsite? I can imagine how well that went over.”
Rick had worked his way from carpenter to top construction superintendent in record time, partly due to his impeccable work ethic. He maintained strict rules about what constituted an appropriate time to call or stop by while he was at work. There were very few situations deemed serious enough to be appropriate. “Yeah, I’m sure all the guys wondered what a cop wanted with Rick.” I rubbed my index finger along the graceful curve of the teapot’s handle. “Come to think of it, I guess they really didn’t. They all just assumed it was something about Kurt.”
“And they were right enough about that, I suppose. You said ‘places,’ plural, so where else has he showed up?”
“He came to the seminar last weekend.”
“He showed up at your grief seminar?” The wrinkles in her forehead deepened as she pondered this. “Did he make a scene?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t even know he was there until the very end of my talk. He sat in the back row, and when I was taking questions he asked me about Nick.”
“What’d he ask?”
“If it helped ease my grief knowing the guilty party was in jail, if I thought that all parents whose children were victims of violent offenders wanted to see justice for their child’s murderer, or something to that effect.”
Lacey stared out her window and nodded slowly. “He’s trying to crank up the pressure on you, there’s no doubt about that.”
“He must think I know something that I’m not telling him.” I took a sip of my tea. “I wish I did. I’d give anything to know exactly where Kurt is this very minute, how he’s doing.” And how I prayed the answer to that question was that my son was truly in rehab. Those were not the kinds of doubts I cared to voice, so I did what I always do, put on an upbeat front. “Besides, if I knew the exact date he checked in and could prove that, it would get Kurt’s name taken right off the list. An alibi that would leave no doubt, that’s what I want.”
“You’re right about that. We just have to hope the kid went to rehab before the murder. I still have some friends from my law days, and from what I’ve heard, the police are grasping at anything they can right now. It sounds like there was no hard evidence left behind. All they have is the list of people who owed the dead guy money. I’m sure they’re hoping if they put enough pressure on the usual suspects, eventually someone’s going to slip.”
“I don’t see why he’s so intent on talking to Kurt. He said himself he’d met Kurt a few times and thought he was a good kid just messed up in the wrong thing.”
“Baby, have you been reading the paper lately? Two gang fights, a stabbing on the east side, and several tourists robbed at gunpoint. Those are the kinds of stories that send the Chamber of Commerce into full-blown panic mode. The businesses are demanding action, the mayor’s running scared. This whole city is worked up over the whole violent crime issue right now.
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