P. Parrish - Heart of Ice

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” he asked.

“Chief-”

“You knew Julie Chapman was alive, and I had to hear it from the housekeeper? If I hadn’t seen her leaving the coffee shop and offered to drive her back here I might never have found out.”

Damn it. Maisey had told him. It wasn’t her fault; she assumed that because he was the chief he had to have known.

“Look, Chief, Rafsky and I didn’t even-”

“Rafsky’s here?” Flowers shoved past him, heading for the kitchen. Louis followed.

Julie and Maisey were in a tight embrace, crying. Rafsky was standing near the stove, watching them, and looked up at Flowers as he came into the kitchen, Louis a step behind.

Flowers stopped abruptly. He stared at the two women for a moment before his eyes went to Rafsky.

“Chief, please,” Louis said quietly. “Don’t do this now.”

Flowers was rooted to the spot. Rafsky put a hand on Maisey’s shoulder as he stepped around them and came toward the door.

“You son of a bitch,” Flowers said.

Rafsky positioned himself between Flowers and the women. “Let’s take this somewhere else,” he said.

Flowers spun and headed back to the foyer. Rafsky let out a sigh as he and Louis followed. Flowers was standing, arms crossed, in front of the door.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded.

“How much did Maisey tell you?” Louis asked.

“Just that Julie was alive and you were talking to her at the cottage.” His eyes shot back to Rafsky. “I want to know what the fuck is going on. I want to know everything!”

Rafsky blew out a breath. “The bones in the lodge belong to Rhonda Grasso. Julie killed her.”

“What?”

“We couldn’t bring you in on this because-”

“How did you find her? How did-”

Rafsky held up a hand. “Let me explain.”

Flowers listened, arms still folded over his chest, as Rafsky laid everything out. When Rafsky was finished, Flowers shook his head.

“Who made the decision to cut me out?” he asked.

“I did,” Rafsky said.

Flowers looked to Louis. “And you agreed?”

“Things were moving fast,” Louis said.

Flowers stabbed a finger at Louis’s chest. “This is my island,” he said. “This was my case.” His eyes swung to Rafsky. “Right from the start you didn’t think I could handle this, and when you fucked it up, all you could think about was covering your ass.”

Rafsky was quiet.

Flowers looked toward the kitchen, and when he spoke again his voice was lower but no less angry.

“You people,” he said, shaking his head. “You come up here and take over everything. You make your messes and then you leave.”

It was the same thing Flowers had said back in Chester Grasso’s garage about Rhonda and Julie, but now Flowers was looking at Louis and it stung.

“Excuse me.”

They all turned. Julie and Maisey were standing in the hallway. Julie was still wearing her raincoat and looked as if the only thing holding her up was Maisey’s arms.

“Julie is really tired,” Maisey said, looking to Louis. “I made up a room for her. Would it be all right if I took her up so she can rest?”

Louis nodded.

Julie gently disentangled herself from Maisey and came to Louis.

“No matter what happens, thank you for bringing me home,” she said.

She picked up the small suitcase and the sock monkey and slipped her arm through Maisey’s. About halfway up the stairs, Maisey stopped and looked down.

“Are you leaving?” she asked, looking at Louis.

Louis glanced at Rafsky but his face was a blank.

“I’d like to talk with you, Mr. Kincaid,” Maisey said. “Can you stay for a while?”

When Louis nodded Maisey gave him a small smile and led Julie up the stairs.

With a final glare at Louis, Flowers jerked open the door and went outside, jamming his hat on his head. Rafsky blew out a tired breath and headed back to the kitchen.

Louis watched Flowers trudge down the walk and went after him.

“Chief, wait!”

Flowers kept going toward the SUV.

“Jack, wait!”

Louis caught up as Flowers got to the driver’s door and grabbed the sleeve of his parka.

Flowers slapped Louis’s hand away. “I trusted you!” he said.

Louis held up his hands. “I know.”

Flowers moved away, turning in a small, tight circle, his head down.

“I’m sorry,” Louis said.

Flowers wouldn’t look at him. He pulled out his gloves and jerked them on. He looked up at the house. “What’s going to happen to her?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t even told the DA yet. Right now, other than me and Rafsky, the only people who know Julie Chapman is alive are Maisey and you.”

“You think you’re going to keep something like this quiet?”

“We have to, at least for a while. It could still blow up on us.”

Flowers looked at him over the hood of the SUV. “You mean it could blow up for him.”

“Yes.”

Flowers shook his head slowly, then he got in the SUV and started the engine. Louis stood shivering as Flowers pulled away. After Flowers turned around in the cul-de-sac, he stopped the SUV in front of Louis. The window whirred down.

“There’s a bad storm coming tomorrow,” he said. “You’d better stock up on supplies while you can.”

The window went back up. Louis watched the red taillights disappear down the road and then went back in the house.

He stopped long enough to stamp the snow off his shoes before he headed to the kitchen. Rafsky was standing near the refrigerator, connected to the kitchen wall phone by a long coiled cord.

“Yes, Greg Thom,” Rafsky said. “No, I need him now.”

Louis looked to the coffeemaker, then to the bottle of Harveys Bristol Cream on the counter. He started quietly opening cupboards but found nothing but a second bottle of Harveys.

Louis reached for two glasses, listening as Rafsky began updating the Mackinac County DA on the events of the last week. Louis knew the DA was up on the case, but like Flowers he couldn’t possibly expect what Rafsky was about to tell him.

When Rafsky finished explaining that Julie was now on the island, Louis could hear the squawk of Thom’s voice from the receiver but couldn’t understand what he was saying. On Rafsky’s end it was mostly “Yes, sir” and “I understand.”

After he hung up, Rafsky rubbed his brow and looked at Louis, his eyes dipping to the glass in Louis’s hand.

“What is that?” he asked.

Louis handed Rafsky a glass and filled it. “Harveys Bristol Cream.”

Rafsky took a drink and grimaced.

“What did the district attorney say?”

Rafsky sank into a chair at the kitchen table. He downed the sherry like a shot of whiskey and held his glass out for a refill. “He was pissed until I told him we had our suspect right here on the island,” he said. “He wanted me to arrest her now, but I talked him out of it until he reviews her statement. He wanted me to bring the tape over today.”

He looked to the Harveys in his hand and finished it. “Fuck it. I’ll go tomorrow.”

“Did Thom indicate what direction he was going to take this?”

Rafsky tapped the rim of his glass and Louis refilled it again. “He asked me if I believed her story of self-defense.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him I did. But then he said that if it was self-defense, why did she run?”

“She was seventeen and scared,” Louis said.

“That’s no defense.”

“She thought she couldn’t go home.”

“Still no defense.”

“She was afraid of Ross.”

Rafsky gave him a raised eyebrow. “Do you really think an incest defense will mitigate murder charges?”