Софи Келли - A Night's Tail

“I think he talked to Chunk,” she said. “Dwayne Parker. They played together—college and pro.”

Dwayne Parker. I leaned over and scribbled the name on the bottom of the grocery list that was on my nightstand. “They stayed in contact?”

“I’m not sure about that. All I can tell you is that Lew said Chunk was married and had five kids. But I got the feeling that they’d talked fairly recently.”

“Do you have any idea how I could find Mr. Parker?” I asked.

“He’s a football scout at Saint Edwin University,” she said. “Lew said neither one of them could really get away from the place.”

I thanked Julie for her time and promised I’d call her again when I had anything new to share.

“Lew could be an ass a lot of the time but he didn’t deserve what happened to him,” Julie said. “And I hate the thought that maybe, finally, he was starting to grow up and he lost the chance.”

When I went downstairs I found Ethan in the living room playing his guitar for a furry audience of two. “Are Milo and Derek coming for supper?” I asked.

He shook his head. “They went to Red Wing to get that guitar of Milo’s. They’ll be back later.”

“So it’s just us.”

He nodded.

“Do you want dumplings with your chicken soup or crackers?” I asked.

“Dumplings, please,” he said with a grin. His enthusiasm was echoed by his audience.

All three of them followed me into the kitchen.

“Want me to set the table?” Ethan asked.

“Please,” I said. I got out a mixing bowl and the measuring cups. The soup was in the refrigerator.

“Are you having any luck figuring out who killed that Wallace guy?” Ethan said.

I shook my head. “Not yet.”

“Yeah, well the guy was a flaming bag of crap.”

I swung around to look at him. “What?”

“C’mon, Kath, you know what I mean,” he said, his voice casual. “The man was a sack of—”

“Stop,” I said.

“Well, he was.” He seemed taken aback by the forcefulness in my voice.

“Don’t talk that way about someone, anyone.”

“Why not?” It was impossible to miss the challenge in his voice now.

“Because . . . because most people are not all one thing,” I said, repeating Rebecca’s words to me. “They’re not all good or all bad. They’re not saint or sinner.”

He gave a snort of contempt. “You were there for three run-ins with the guy. You’re not going to try to tell me that Lewis Wallace was some kind of saint, are you?”

I sighed. “Of course not. But he wasn’t some evil monster, either.” And now I knew from both Melanie and Wallace’s ex that the man had at least been trying to change. “You know, Lewis Wallace was barely an adult when both of his parents died. I don’t want to think about who I would have turned out to be without Mom and Dad around.”

I knew by the stubborn set to his jaw that he wasn’t yielding anything to me.

“When you were nineteen were all your choices so perfect that you didn’t need Mom and Dad?” I continued. “Are you really going to try and tell me that you don’t need them now sometimes?”

“I never kicked a service dog.”

I leaned against the counter. “You’re right. And why is that? Because Thea Paulson is your mother. Because John Paulson is your father. They taught you better and when you screwed up—and you did, little brother, because we all do—they showed you how to do better the next time.”

“You’re just making excuses for the guy,” Ethan said.

I shook my head, frustrated that he didn’t seem to be getting my point. “No. I’m trying not to judge, and yes, I did a lot of that at first because the guy did act like a jerk every time I encountered him. Now I’m trying to figure out who Lewis Wallace really was so maybe that will help me figure out how he ended up dead in that meeting room, which, by the way, is something you asked me to do.”

I turned back around and reached for the flour.

“I’m sorry,” Ethan said.

I wasn’t sure if he meant he was sorry for calling Lewis Wallace a flaming bag of crap or for asking me to figure out who’d killed the man.

I decided for now I was happier not knowing.

I went to tai chi class but my focus wasn’t really on the class.

“Is everything all right?” Maggie asked at the end of class as I used the edge of my T-shirt to blot my sweaty face because I’d forgotten my towel.

“I’m just tired,” I said. “Owen decided that quarter to six was the perfect time to get up this morning.” After meowing in my ear hadn’t worked the cat had batted my face with one paw and breathed on me until I finally sat up.

“Tomorrow night is still a go?” she asked.

“Absolutely. I’m looking forward to it.”

I was. I’d been mired in trying to figure out who killed Lewis Wallace for the past several days. It would be nice to think about something else other than that, or the fact that Ethan was leaving in less than two days.

As I drove up to Marcus’s house it occurred to me that maybe I should stop poking around in Lewis Wallace’s death. Maybe this time I should just leave everything to Marcus. He was good at his job, Derek had been cleared as a suspect and Ethan had never seriously been one. Maybe it was time to back off.

When I got to Marcus’s house he was on the phone. He beckoned me inside. Just from his side of the conversation it seemed to involve a case. He ended the call and raked a hand back through his hair.

“Problem?” I asked.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “That case of mine that’s on trial? It’s going to be going to the jury soon. The prosecutor needs to talk to me about a couple of things. I have to go.”

“It’s okay,” I said. I stood on tiptoes and kissed him. “We can have lunch tomorrow and we’re going out to Roma and Eddie’s tomorrow night.”

“Umm, yes to lunch and yes, I remembered about tomorrow night.”

I kissed him again. “I’ll meet you at Eric’s at twelve. If anything changes, call me.”

He promised he would and we walked out together. I headed home and he headed down the hill.

When I got home I found Ethan in the living room, watching a concert on his laptop with a bowl of popcorn and a cat on each side of him. It struck me that I wasn’t going to be the only one who’d miss him. He pulled out one earbud. “Milo and Derek are bringing pizza. You want some?”

I shook my head. “Thanks, no. I’m just going to get a drink and then I have some stuff to do.”

“Okay,” he said. “Just come get a slice if you change your mind.”

I made a cup of hot chocolate and headed upstairs. Hercules glanced in my direction but stayed where he was.

I took my hair out of the ponytail I’d worn to class and pulled on a pair of pajama pants and my favorite Boston College sweatshirt. The grocery list was still sitting on the nightstand. I picked it up.

Dwayne Parker. “Chunk,” Wallace’s ex-wife had called him. Was it even worth trying to find a phone number for the man? What could he tell me that would make a difference?

I thought about what Julie Kendall had told me, that Wallace had said that both he and Parker couldn’t seem to get away from Saint Edwin’s. Everything seemed to lead back to what really was just a minor cheating incident that had taken place at the school.

Finding a number for the man turned out to be easy. I just called the university’s athletic office and they gave it to me without question.

I hesitated and then picked up my phone again.

Dwayne Parker had a big, booming voice that matched the mental image I had of a man whose nickname was Chunk. I explained who I was and asked Parker if Lewis Wallace had been in touch recently.