Bad things, p.11
Bad Things, page 11
“He was drinking beer,” she’d said through tears, over and over again, according to Youngston and Charlie. “We were having fun.”
“He didn’t kill himself, accidentally or otherwise,” Kerry stated firmly now. “If someone shot him up, it was without his consent.”
“She killed him,” Jerry said firmly.
Kerry looked pale, almost as pale as Jerry. “Maybe she didn’t mean to kill him, but—”
“Doesn’t matter. She killed him.” Jerry was positive.
“He wouldn’t have done it himself.” Kerry stared at Cole, as if for corroboration. “That’s just not something he would have done.”
Cole said, “If the two of them were experimenting—say it was Nick’s first time—it’s unlikely they would have chosen the jugular vein. It’s just not the way it’s done. Too dangerous. Nick would have known all that, and so would Diana.”
“So where does that leave us?” asked Kerry.
“How come you let her go?” Jerry demanded. “How come she’s out there, not here, in jail?”
“The investigation’s just begun,” Cole said.
“It wasn’t suicide,” Jerry hissed.
“What do you think happened?” Kerry asked Cole.
“I don’t want to conjecture.”
“Oh, come on. Conjecture away,” she told him, jaw tight. “Do you think they were experimenting? And Diana went too far, say? Maybe she was too messed up to do it right? Is that what happened?”
“We’ve spoken to Diana several times. She’s coming in for a full interview later today. She denies giving Nick any drugs.”
“Well, it wasn’t suicide,” Kerry said again, echoing Jerry.
“It’s not like Lisette,” Jerry said tautly.
Both Kerry and Cole looked at him, and the older man seemed to catch himself. “A friend of Nick’s used pills to kill herself,” he muttered.
Cole didn’t like to offer up possibilities. Too many times grieving people latched on to a theory, declaring it fact. But he also didn’t want to appear like he was keeping things from them, so he broke his own rule and gave them his true thoughts. “I think either Nick’s death was caused by extreme recklessness or he was deliberately killed by someone who stuck that needle in his neck, not caring whether they hit a vein, an artery, or anything else. Whatever the case, Nick died as a result, and I plan to investigate as if it’s a homicide until I learn differently.”
* * *
Kerry felt light-headed and nauseated. She could barely register Cole’s words. In her mind’s eye she could see Diana pressing a syringe into Nick’s neck.
She went for the jugular.
“Shoulda never let her out,” Jerry said again, but he was losing steam. He got to his feet with an effort, swayed a bit, then headed for the door before Kerry could even get up to help him. Kerry scrambled from her chair, apparently unable to look at Cole.
It was hard for Cole to take. He’d known Jerry some, back when he and Nick were friends, during those high school years. They’d been a few grades apart, but they’d been acquainted through sports and other friends.
“I’m really sorry,” he said as Kerry headed toward his office door. He almost added, I know what it’s like to lose a brother, but decided to keep himself out of it.
She hesitated, her fingers holding on to the doorjamb for a brief moment. Past her, Cole could see Jerry crossing the squad room, oblivious to the officers at their desks, although they collectively turned to watch him as he headed jerkily toward the front exit.
Kerry wanted to make some kind of snappy comeback, but all she could think of was that Nick was gone. He hadn’t signed up for active duty like Cole’s brother. All Nick had done was visit his hometown. He didn’t deserve this in any way. Neither had Cole’s brother, but joining any arm of the military came with the prospect of danger. Nick had just come back to Edwards Bay to be with friends and family.
And he’d died.
By mistake. Or someone had killed him. Murdered him. A homicide. It didn’t matter to her whether it was by accident or design. She wanted whoever had done it to be brought to justice, and if the police couldn’t do it, she was going to do it herself.
“Kerry,” Cole said.
She was two steps into the squad room, but this time she glanced back at his tone.
“I’m going to find out the truth,” he said grimly.
Kerry gave him a brief nod, then, ducking her head, she determinedly headed after Jerry, catching up with him outside the station under the cool, somewhat threatening skies of a June day.
So am I, she thought.
She drove Jerry back to his house. He was silent most of the way, but his mouth was working as she drew up to the curb, as if the words were there, but he couldn’t or wouldn’t spit them out.
“You okay?” she asked, walking him to his front door.
“It wasn’t suicide,” he said. “Nick was a good son. He would never hurt himself or anyone else. He made mistakes, sure, but he was always careful, especially after ... he grew into an adult. He used his money for good causes. Drove his ex crazy with how much he donated, but Marcia . . .” He dolefully shook his head. “Never shoulda married her. Pretended she was pregnant, you know.”
Kerry let that wash over her. For years she’d heard the rumor that Marcia had played that game to snare Nick, though he had never said as much. He’d protected himself with a prenup in any case, but what did it really matter now? Nick was gone and it felt petty to even think these thoughts.
But Jerry wasn’t holding back. “Then Marcia did get pregnant and miscarried. And then Nick was done. He’d made a mistake in marrying her. Someone once called her the prettiest girl in three counties, but she never had the temperament to match. What she wanted was a blood heir and a way to tap into Nick’s money. Didn’t happen for her.”
Miss Seashell. Marcia’s crown . . .
“But Nick always loved Audra,” Kerry said.
“Marcia wanted him to adopt her. He might’ve, if he’d lived.” His mouth worked and he climbed out of the car. “Who knows where he left things. When that lawyer finally talks to you, I guess we’ll know.”
“To us. He wants to talk to you, too.”
At the front door Jerry wouldn’t let her help him any further. “I’m fine,” he said curtly, letting himself into the house.
“You sure?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m just going to sit myself down and relax. Nothing more for you to do today.”
“Okay.”
As he was closing the door, she almost asked if he felt there was even the teensiest possibility Nick had committed suicide. She didn’t believe it, and Jerry had said he didn’t want to believe it, but the way he’d brought up Lisette clearly said her death, at her own hand, was on his mind.
The door shut firmly before she could ask, which was probably just as well; Jerry had looked all in.
She drove back to Starrwood Homes, her tired mind buzzing with what she’d learned at the meeting with Cole. The jugular vein. It seemed so . . . vicious. Could Diana Conger, maybe with Nick’s blessing, have plunged a hypodermic needle into his neck? She couldn’t quite put that picture together.
She felt weary all over from worrying and wondering. Somewhere she felt like she’d forgotten something, but for the moment she couldn’t recall what it was.
* * *
“When’s Conger coming back? You want me to pick her up?” Ben asked Cole, the words shooting out of his mouth like darts.
“She’s coming in on her own.”
“Shoulda never let her out.”
Cole was getting pretty sick of people telling him that. Youngston had made up his mind about Diana the night of Nick’s death. Cole said again, and he swore to himself it would be the last time, “She’s cooperating fully. We don’t have enough evidence to charge her in Nick Radnor’s death.”
“She oughta be in a cell.”
Charlie looked up from her desk. She seemed about to put her own two cents in. Regarding her steadily, Cole asked, “Something on your mind, Officer Paige?”
Paige was smarter and more careful than Ben, apparently, because she hesitated a moment before saying, “Just got a call from Heather Drury. Justin’s run off again. She wanted us to know.”
“We’ll look in all the usual places.” Justin Drury was a chronic teen runaway and his mother, Heather, called in his disappearances as a matter of course. She’d grown weary of her middle son’s inability to stay in school and abide by any social rules. His constant truancy had become a fact of life. He had a tendency to hang out with some of the known town miscreants down by the waterfront.
“I’m gathering that information for you,” she added, and Cole nodded at her as he went back to his desk. She was getting him the phone numbers and addresses of Nick Radnor’s family, friends, and business associates. He planned to make a few phone calls to get a feel for Nick Radnor, maybe pull a thread or two that might lead to unraveling some unobvious truth.
Fifteen minutes later Diana Conger walked into the squad room, appearing a helluva lot better than when he’d seen her the previous week. She had a tousled look about her that seemed to be part of who she was. Something a little messy that declared she wasn’t interested in total perfection. Cole came out to meet her and, spying him, Diana hurried forward, tripping a little bit on wedge heels.
Was she high? he wondered. There was something a little off there.
“Hi, Chief,” she said, her voice friendly.
Charlie looked over the top of her computer monitor. Cole ignored her as he led Diana to his office. She wasn’t a suspect ... yet ... and there was no need for an interrogation room, no matter what Youngston wanted.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said before Cole could even ask her a question. “I think Nick maybe did take some pills. Maybe at ... the Blarney Stone? He might have . . . dabbled.”
This was far more than she’d admitted the last time she’d been at the station. He’d spoken to her once more over the last few days, but she’d still been insisting she couldn’t remember a thing. “Did you dabble?” he asked, purposely using her word.
“I’d been at the bars all night with our friends.”
“Is that a yes?”
She looked at him directly but couldn’t help blinking a bit, a tell. “I was drinking. I didn’t . . . I don’t . . . usually . . . mix things. It’s very dangerous.”
No kidding.
“So that’s a no.”
She ran a hand through her hair, tousling it further. “It’s all a little hazy, like I said. I was messed up. We’d been barhopping. Everybody was feeling it. Even Kerry.” She slid him a sideways look.
Cole’s pulse jumped. So. They knew about him and Kerry. Of course, Kerry had probably told them. He’d been foolish to think she would keep their relationship to herself. Not that any of it mattered now.
“Tell me about the barhopping,” he said.
Diana dutifully related much the same story as Kerry had. Where they’d gone, who’d been at each place, what they’d had to drink, although Diana wasn’t nearly as clear as Kerry had been. He let her ramble on until she wound down, then he said, “Nick was given heroin straight to the jugular.” He gestured to where the needle mark had been. “I don’t think he gave it to himself. Too dangerous. Not what he was about. If he was going to dabble, like you said, he would have taken pills.”
Diana’s mouth had slowly dropped open. Either she was a good actress or she was completely taken by surprise. He considered, but it was too early to make that distinction. “No,” was what she finally said.
“Yes. He had several drugs in his system, but it appears it was the shot of heroin that killed him.”
“I don’t believe you!”
“I’m sorry. It’s the truth.”
She seemed completely taken aback, horrified even. He tried to read whether this was an act, but he couldn’t make himself believe that. Diana was too open a person, who enjoyed socializing and had no serious line that couldn’t be crossed when it came to “dabbling” in sex, alcohol, and drugs. If she was responsible for the hypodermic and Nick Radnor’s death, she was doing a masterful job of masking her guilt. He just couldn’t believe she had that in her. But then, some of the best criminals were the ones who appeared the most innocent.
Her eyes glimmered with sudden tears she didn’t bother to wipe away. “Nick was the cool guy, you know? Too cool for any of us. We always knew he would leave Edwards Bay and do something fabulous, and he did. Marcia chased after him and she got him. For a while. But we all knew it wouldn’t last.”
“Who are ‘we’?”
“All of us. The A-Team. We all were in the same class. Well, you know. You went there, too.”
“I didn’t know many people in your class,” said Cole.
“But you knew Nick ... right?”
Cole nodded.
“And Killian . . . and Forrest and Sean?”
“Not really. This isn’t about me, Diana.”
“I know. It’s just that . . .” She shrugged, lightly wiping the tear tracks from her cheeks. “It’s like we’ve all been together forever. Nick left, but he came back. And now Kerry’s part of our group. And there are others, too. Egan and Miami and Josie and Taryn and ... oh, some of the other guys we don’t see as much ... but we’re all still here. Marcia was a couple of years younger.” She trailed off, and her eyes slid to the side, though she didn’t move her head. “Ben was in our class.”
Cole looked through his office window, following her gaze to where he could see the back of Ben Youngston’s head as he hunt-and-pecked his way through the computer keyboard writing up an incident report. Youngston wasn’t half as good as Paige was on paperwork. He, and some of the other officers, had a tendency to try to wheedle Charlie into helping them, but she was a hard-ass.
“Can you remember anything? Anything at all that might explain how and when Nick was injected?”
“No.” Her answer was immediate.
“You were with him at the end of the evening. At the last bar. The Blarney Stone.”
“I was sitting by him, that’s all.”
“But you left together.”
“I just remember sitting there and Josie was glaring at me from across the table. She thinks she owns him. Taryn was mad, too. She was on Nick’s other side.”
Cole gazed at the distraught woman. Diana looked about ready to break out in more tears. “Nick was giving you his full attention.”
“I guess so.”
“Did that start at the Blarney Stone or earlier?”
“I don’t know. Maybe ... maybe at The Whistle Stop? He was looking at me, and I said something funny and he laughed.”
“What did you say?”
“God, I can’t remember . . .” She screwed up her face and closed her eyes. “No, it was Josie who said something about her husband ... Kent. It was about him being gone for a few weeks, and Killian said, ‘Maybe you’ll finally get some good sex,’ and looked at Nick, and I said, ‘Nick’s practically perfect in every way,’ you know, like Mary Poppins, and Nick laughed. Kerry did, too, I think. She said I was going to give him a big head, and then the guys kind of went off on that. . . .” She threw an apologetic look at Cole. “You know, saying ‘big head’ and joking around.”
He nodded. Could easily visualize the scene.
“Taryn cut them off. She’s . . . well, she has her reasons, but she’s kind of a buzzkill. Told them they were all a bunch of pervs or something. They ignored her. They always do.”
“She was Nick’s good friend,” said Cole.
“Hmm.” She shrugged. “She was always with him. Nothing sexual, I don’t think. You can kinda tell. Taryn sort of latches on to guys. She’s big into the women’s movement, which is great, but she can really go off on a rant, sometimes at the worst time, and it makes everyone uncomfortable. You know what I mean?”
Cole nodded.
“She said some guy at work came at her and it really scared her. Nick was really nice to her about it. Okay, this is mean to say, but I think she kind of played on that? To keep his attention? She always says what great friends they are . . . were ... but . . .” She caught herself, swallowing hard. “Anyway, when I found him in my bed ... I was thinking that, well, I was just so happy. I was glad he saw me differently than Taryn, or at least that’s what I thought at first ... until I realized he was gone.”
Sensing she was ready to cry some more, he asked quickly, to divert her, “Did the guys in your group feel the same way about Nick as the women apparently did?”
She sniffed. “How do you mean?”
“Let me ask you this: Did all the women feel the way you do? That Nick was a . . . good guy?”
“Oh, sure. Miami doesn’t say much, but she can’t with Killian right there. Killian can’t handle hearing anyone’s better than he is. Kerry looks at him like a brother; I mean, he is her stepbrother, but they both act like a real brother and sister. She thinks he’s a good guy. And then Josie sure does. She’s in to him. Was in to him.” She darted a quick glance his way. “She acted like they were sleeping together. It’s kind of a known thing, but I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You don’t think she and Nick were an item.”
“Nick . . .” She gazed out the windows of his office to the squad room. “Until he was with me . . . I didn’t think he was really with anybody. He was too sad.”
“Sad?”
She tossed up her hands. “I don’t know. Disinterested? Like other things on his mind?”
“What did the men in your group think about Nick?”
“Oh, they’re all jealous of his success. I mean, come on. They give him shit all the time, but you can see how they feel. Gave him shit,” she corrected herself. “Just like guys do. But I think ... I mean, they know he was a good guy. Forrest said something to him about showing them all up or something. This was all earlier or other times, not by the time we got to the Blarney Stone, or even much at The Whistle Stop.”
Cole nodded, then switched gears. “Do you have any need for a syringe?”
