Brian Freeman - Goodbye to the Dead (Jonathan Stride Book 7)

Anna fixed a drooping strap on her tank top. ‘Couple weeks ago, Al was over at the Grizzly Bear talking to Fred. I think he was looking to pick up some PT work. Anyway, my car had a flat, so Al drove me home. It was late, and he came inside with me, and we had a few drinks and put on some flicks. Next thing I know, his tongue was down my throat, and his hands were inside my T-shirt.’

Cat shot to her feet. ‘Al made a pass at you? Al?’

‘Sorry, kiddo,’ Anna told her, ‘but yeah, he did. Like I said, we were both pretty drunk. He’s probably been nursing a major hard-on wanting to get into your pants. The thing is, I won’t lie to you, Cat. As passes go, this wasn’t exactly a dropped ball in the end zone.’

‘What are you saying?’ Cat asked, but she already knew.

‘I’m saying it was a completed pass. Al spent the night with me.’

When Janine entered the visiting room, Stride noticed the physical changes of eight years, the same way he did when he looked at himself in the mirror. They were both older. She wore no makeup. No jewelry. Like every other inmate, she was dressed down. In the past, watching Janine walk was like following a celebrity who could part a crowd with her presence. She had an otherness that set her apart from ordinary people. Now she was one of many.

‘Hello, Jonathan,’ she said as she sat down across from him.

‘Hello, Janine.’

He could see her taking his measure, the way he’d done to her. She was probably thinking similar things. He was older. Bruised and not as cocky. They sat in silence for a while, and others in the waiting room stole glances at them. Everybody knew who they were. There were no secrets here.

‘I can’t tell you how sorry I was to hear about Cindy,’ Janine said finally.

‘Thank you.’

‘She was probably my only real friend. Not that I’m comparing my loss to yours. I know what a love match the two of you were. My heart ached for you when I heard. Really. I wrote to you, but I didn’t expect a reply. I just wanted you to know that my grief was sincere.’

‘I got your letter,’ Stride told her.

‘Good.

More awkward silence followed. Once upon a time, they’d been something like friends. Now he didn’t know what they were.

‘Are you involved with someone?’ she asked him.

He didn’t answer, and she sighed and looked away.

‘So I’m still the enemy, am I?’ she went on. ‘I thought after all this time things might be different. Well, it may not matter coming from me, but I know Cindy would want you to be in love. I envied the two of you. How you could be different and yet the same. Obviously, I never mastered the art of relationships.’

He was silent again, and then he said: ‘I’m involved.’

‘I’m glad. Is it serious?’

‘Yes.’

‘Even better,’ she said. Her eyes traveled around the room. ‘I suppose it doesn’t happen very often, coming to see people you put in prison.’

‘No, not very often.’

‘Of course not. Why would you? I don’t get many visitors.’

‘What about Howard Marlowe?’ Stride asked.

Janine’s eyebrows rose in surprise. ‘You know about him? Well, of course you do. I forgot I have no privacy here.’

‘Howard has built quite a hobby out of you,’ Stride told her. ‘He got copies of most of our investigative records through Archie. He calls us all the time. He wants us to investigate new leads. I gather he’s writing a book.’

‘Yes, he is.’

‘He visits you here, too.’

‘He does. Is it strange, a man like that who can’t let go?’

‘It happens,’ Stride said. ‘People get obsessed.’

‘On one level, I’m grateful. For the company. For someone who believes in me. On the other hand, I feel as if I’m cheating him out of his life.’

‘You don’t have to see him.’

‘I know. And yet when I think about taking him off the list, I just can’t do it. A part of me can’t let go. I’m hoping he’ll decide on his own that I’m not worth it.’

Stride wondered if she was sincere. The old Janine would always have put herself first.

‘I assume Archie has been in touch with you,’ he told her.

‘Yes, of course.’

‘So you know we’ve identified the gun that was used to kill Jay,’ he went on.

‘After all these years. It’s quite a mystery.’

He expected to see a glint of triumph in her face. She knew that this discovery, whatever it meant, opened up new legal doors for her. For the first time, she had a realistic chance at a new trial or even a complete dismissal. The idea of release from prison was no longer a fantasy. Except he was surprised by what he saw. Anxiety. Even fear. The life inside was the life she knew. She really had become an indoor cat. Outside was uncertain. Outside was scary. She couldn’t simply walk back to her old life, and she knew it.

‘I was hoping you might be able to shed some light on that mystery,’ Stride said.

Janine shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. You know I can’t do that.’

Which was the answer he’d expected.

‘I suppose Archie reminded you not to tell me anything that might jeopardize your release,’ he said.

‘Yes, he did.’

‘There’s a solution to this puzzle. I’m going to find out what it is.’

‘I wonder if you will,’ she replied. ‘I’m not doubting you, but nine years is a long time.’

Stride stared at her eyes, looking for answers. ‘Can I be honest with you, Janine?’

‘I’m sure you will be.’

‘I think you’re guilty. I always have.’

‘I know that.’

‘And if you’re guilty, that means you must know what happened to the gun that killed Jay and where it’s been all these years.’

‘In other words, where did I hide it?’ she asked. ‘Or who did I give it to?’

‘Exactly.’

‘Even if I knew, you realize it would be foolish of me to tell you. Legally speaking.’

‘I know that.’

‘So why ask me? Why did you come down here?’

He couldn’t keep the frustration out of his voice. ‘Because this is about more than finding an old gun in the woods and running a ballistics test. This gun was used to kill a woman just a few weeks ago. The man who did it is on the loose. The lives of other women may well be at stake. I have just one clue. His gun. Eight years ago, that gun was in your living room. It’s the gun that murdered your husband. If I knew where it went after that, then I stand a chance of figuring out who used it last month.’

He hoped he would get through to her. She was already in prison, and he wanted to believe there was enough regret in her heart over what she’d done that she would choose to save someone else’s life. He saw her hesitate. He knew — he knew — that she had the answers he needed.

Janine leaned across the table and, violating the prison rules, took both of his hands in hers.

‘I’m sorry, Jonathan,’ she told him. ‘I know what you think of me, but I’m telling you the truth. I was telling you the truth all those years ago. That gun was never in my hands. I’m not the one who shot my husband.’

Howard had long ago memorized the jewelry that Janine Snow lost when her husband was murdered, but he still reviewed the photographs every time he entered a pawn shop. Six items. All expensive. A black pearl ring in a white gold setting. Matching earrings and a matching necklace. A bracelet of twisted gold chains interspersed with diamonds and blue sapphires. A hummingbird pin with a breast of real rubies. An emerald brooch in the shape of the letter J. Each piece was a custom design.

He parked in the ramp of the Fond-Du-Luth casino and emerged onto Superior Street. The casino was next to him, belching cigarette smoke when the doors opened. He’d never been inside. He didn’t gamble. It was a sweltering afternoon, and he thought about stopping at a bar, but beer fogged his head. He needed to be sharp as he perused the jewelry locked under the glass of the pawn shop counters.