Harlan Coben - The Final Detail

“Why not?”

“The corpse had been buried for twelve years. There was no evidence there. The car was long gone-no evidence there either. The police report listed a Breathalyzer test that showed Clu was not drunk. So what did you have: the ranting of a drug addict going through withdrawal? Billy Lee's confession to Sawyer Wells would probably be suppressed, and even if it wasn't, so what? His testimony about the police payoffs was complete hearsay since he wasn't even there when it happened. You realized all that, didn't you?”

She said nothing.

“And that meant justice was up to you, Sophie. You and Gary would have to avenge your daughter.” He stopped, looked at Jared, then back at Sophie. “You told me about a void. You said that you preferred to fill that void with hope.”

Sophie nodded. “I did.”

“And when the hope was gone-when the discovery of your daughter's body sucked it all away-you and your husband still needed to fill that void.”

“Yes.”

“So you filled it with revenge.”

She fixed her gaze on his. “Do you blame us, Myron?”

He said nothing.

“The crooked sheriff was dying of cancer,” Sophie said. “There was nothing to be done about him. The other officer, well, as your friend Win could tell you, money is influence. The Federal Bureau of Investigation set him up at our behest. He took the bait. And yes, I shattered his life. Gladly.”

“But Clu was the one you wanted to hurt most,” Myron said.

“Hurt nothing. I wanted to crush him.”

“But he too was fairly broken down,” Myron said. “In order to really crush him, you had to give him hope. Just like you and Gary had all these years. Give him hope, then snatch it away. Hope hurts like nothing else. You knew that. So you and your husband bought the Yankees. You overpaid, but so what? You had the money. You didn't care. Gary died soon after the transaction.”

“From heartache,” Sophie interrupted. She raised her head, and for the first time he saw a tear. “From years of heartache.”

“But you carried on without him.”

“Yes.”

“You concentrated on one thing and one thing only: getting Clu in your grasp. It was a silly trade-everyone thought so-and it was strange coming from an owner who kept out of every other baseball decision. But it was all about getting Clu on the team. That's the only reason you bought the Yankees. To give Clu a last chance. And even better, Clu cooperated. He started straightening out his life. He was clean and sober. He was pitching well. He was as happy as Clu Haid was ever going to get. You had him in the palm of your hand.

“And then you closed your fist.”

Jared put his arm around her shoulders and pressed her close.

“I don't know the order,” Myron went on. “You sent Clu a computer diskette like you sent me. Bonnie told me that. She also told me that you blackmailed him. Anonymously. That explains the missing two hundred thousand dollars. You made him live in terror. And Bonnie even inadvertently helped you by filing for divorce. Now Clu was in the perfect position for your coup de grace: the drug test. You fixed it so he would fail. Sawyer helped. Who better, since he already knew what was going on? It worked beautifully. Not only did it destroy Clu, but it also diverted any attention from you. Who would ever suspect you, especially since the test seemingly hurt you too? But you didn't care about any of that. The Yankees meant nothing to you except as a vehicle to destroy Clu Haid.”

“So true,” Sophie said.

“Don't,” Jared said.

She shook her head and patted her son's arm. “It's okay.”

“Clu had no idea the girl he buried in the woods was your daughter. But after you bombarded him with the calls and the diskette and especially after he failed the drug test, he put it together. But what could he do about it? He certainly couldn't say the drug test was fixed because he'd killed Lucy Mayor. He was trapped. He tried to figure out how you'd learned the truth. He thought maybe it was Barbara Cromwell.”

“Who?”

“Barbara Cromwell. She's Sheriff Lemmon's daughter.”

“How did she know?”

“Because as quiet as you tried to keep the investigation, Wilston is a small town. The sheriff was tipped off about the discovery. He was dying. He had no money. His family was poor. So he told his daughter about what had really happened that night. She could never get in trouble for it-it was his crime, not hers. And they could use the information to blackmail Clu Haid. Which they did. On several occasions. Clu figured Barbara had been the one who opened her mouth. When he called her to find out if she'd told anyone, Barbara played coy. She demanded more money. So Clu drove up to Wilston a few days later. He refused to pay her. He said it was over.”

Sophie nodded. “So that's how you put it together.”

“It was the final piece, yes,” Myron said. “When I realized that Clu had visited Lemmon's daughter, it all fell into place. But I'm still surprised, Sophie.”

“Surprised about what?”

“That you killed him. That you let Clu out of his misery.”

Jared's arm dropped off his mother. “What are you talking about?” he said.

“Let him speak,” Sophie said. “Go on, Myron.”

“What more is there?”

“For starters,” she said, “how about your part in all this?”

A lead block formed in his chest. He said nothing.

“You're not going to claim that you were blameless in all this, are you, Myron?”

His voice was soft. “No.”

In the distance, out beyond center field, a janitor started cleaning off the memorials to the Yankees' greats. He sprayed and wiped, working, Myron knew from past stadium visits, on Lou Gehrig's stone. The Iron Horse. Such bravery in the face of so awful a death.

“You've done this too, haven't you?” Sophie said.

Myron kept his eyes on the janitor. “Done what?” But he knew.

“I've looked into your past,” she said. “You and your business associate often take the law into your own hands, am I right? You play judge and jury.”

Myron said nothing.

“That's all I did. For the sake of my daughter's memory.”

The blurry line between fair and foul again. “So you decided to frame me for Clu's murder.”

“Yes.”

“The perfect way to wreak vengeance on me for bribing the officers.”

“I thought so at the time.”

“But you messed up, Sophie. You ended up framing the wrong person.”

“That was an accident.”

Myron shook his head. “I should have seen it,” he said. “Even Billy Lee Palms said it, but I didn't pay attention. And Hester Crimstein said it to me the first time I met her.”

“Said what?”

“They both pointed out that the blood was found in my car, the gun in my office. Maybe I killed Clu, they said. A logical deduction except for one thing. I was out of the country. You didn't know that, Sophie. You didn't know that Esperanza and Big Cyndi were playing a shell game with everybody, pretending I was still around. That's why you were so upset with me when you found out I'd been away. I messed up your plan. You also didn't know that Clu had an altercation with Esperanza. So all the evidence that was supposed to point to me-”

“Pointed instead to your associate, Miss Diaz,” Sophie said.

“Exactly,” Myron said. “But there's one other thing I want to clear up.”

“More than one thing,” Sophie corrected.

“What?”

“There's more than one thing you'll want to clear up,” Sophie said. “But please go ahead. What would you like to know?”

“You were the one who had me followed,” he said. “The guy I spotted outside the Lock-Home building. He was yours.”