What Have You Done Page 12

  Liam clicked though the phone records, line by line, deleting evidence as he went. The next number he saw stopped him in his tracks as he sat up and stared at it. He recognized it instantly, his cursor flashing on and off in front of it, waiting for its next command.

  Sean’s number.

  Liam traced the dates. Sean had called Kerri two days before she was murdered. Why? They hadn’t talked in a long time. At least, that’s what Kerri had told him. He scanned through the earlier portion of the month and saw Sean’s number three more times. Kerri’s outbound calls had Sean’s home number once. They’d been talking throughout the month. Neither of them had ever mentioned anything.

  Only you, me, and Don know about everything.

  Liam hit the button to activate the printer and then deleted his brother’s numbers along with his own. Tampering with evidence was a crime. This was beyond that. This was tampering to clear his name as a primary suspect in a homicide. If anyone found out what he was doing, he’d be sent to jail for a long time. But now there was something new to investigate. He had to find out why Sean had been calling Kerri.

  The cell phone rang. Liam fished it from his pocket. “Liam Dwyer.”

  “It’s Jane. Where are you?”

  “Uh, almost at the office. Where are you?”

  Jane’s voice was excited. “I’m at the bureau. You’re not going to believe this, but NCIC got a hit already on our off-line search.”

  “Talk to me.”

  “Like you said, we started with Philadelphia as a drop point and circled our way out. The system picked up a match in Delaware. Two hours away. Prostitute was found six weeks ago, hanged in a motel in a downtown section of Wilmington.”

  “Yeah, hanged is common enough. We don’t know—”

  “No,” Jane continued. “Let me finish. She was hanged and her hair all cut off.”

  Liam fell back into his seat. “You’re kidding me.”

  “It’s him. It’s gotta be. Nothing about a stomach slashing, but this is too much of a coincidence for it not to be our guy. Wilmington Homicide filed it away unsolved. As far as they were probably concerned, it was one less hooker on the street they needed to deal with. It was filed and forgotten.”

  “Almost an exact match,” Liam whispered more to himself than Jane. “So I assume no autopsy was done?”

  “No.”

  “Wondering if she was drugged like our vic.”

  “You want me to call down there? Have her exhumed and autopsied?”

  “Yeah. And tell them we’re heading down there ourselves. I think you’re right. This could be the same guy. Let me write it up, and then we’ll take a ride tomorrow. Gonna start making calls now.”

  Liam hung up the phone and sent the edited phone records back to Heckle and Keenan through an email. He told them that he’d inadvertently gotten the records instead of them and he was forwarding. They wouldn’t ask any follow-up questions. Things like that happened all the time. When he was done, he let the silence of his office envelop him. Another victim. Sean’s number in Kerri’s phone records. Why? The questions continued to mount.

  27

  Liam walked along the dock slowly and carefully, searching for something that could help him remember where he was the night Kerri was murdered. After he’d sent the phone records back to Heckle and Keenan, he’d driven to the marina to see if something could help him put the pieces of that night back together. It was raining again, and small whitecaps crested, one after the other, as the wind howled and the river turned rough. The air was cool, and he was shivering, but he continued on, moving methodically, still feeling the wooden platform shifting underneath, still knowing that such movement was impossible.

  Sean had mentioned the sweatshirt he had supposedly come back to the boat for the night Kerri was killed. He hadn’t seen anything that Sunday night when he was with his brother, but it had been dark then, and he hoped something inside the cabin might point him in the right direction now that there was daylight. He was well aware he was grasping at straws, but he was desperate to gain some piece of his memory back.

  Along the dock, on the way out to the boat slips, there was a tackle shop, a small café, and a souvenir shop lined up side by side. In front of the café, under the protection of a somewhat tattered awning, an old Asian man sat on a milk carton with a young Asian boy, his grandson. They were both dressed in bright-yellow parkas, the man snapping pictures with a Polaroid as folks passed by, the young boy calling out to them to purchase the picture his grandfather had just taken. This was Grandpa and Kiki. They were a staple at the dock, and he and Sean had grown to know them over the years as many of the boat owners had. One picture, one dollar. Everyone got their photo taken. Not everyone bought. Rumor had it that Grandpa had a way of getting free film from a warehouse that housed audio and visual equipment. Liam wasn’t sure how Grandpa pulled this off and was certain he didn’t want to know. Let the man and the boy make their living. This wasn’t what he would consider a crime worth looking into.

  Liam passed them without looking up. The rain was stabbing at him now as it blew sideways. He pulled his hood tighter and made his way down the steps to slip 28, where the boat was waiting. Sean had put the cover over the wheelhouse and fishing platform to protect it from the weather. In order to come aboard, Liam would have to unsnap the corner and climb through. His hands were slippery on the rope that acted as a railing.

  “What are you doing?” he asked himself aloud.

  His feet refused to move any farther. He shook with adrenaline, staring at the boat’s hull as it rocked up and down in the heavy surf. One slip and he would fall into the water that knew of his fear and so relentlessly reached out for him time and again. He closed his eyes into slits and stepped onto the rear platform of the boat, balancing himself as he rocked with the waves. His fumbling hands unsnapped the corner of the cover as fast as they could. The whitecaps nipped at the heels of his shoes again as he stood on the swim platform, catching him on the ankle so he could feel the icy temperature of a winter just past. He steadied himself as he slid under the canopy, belly flopping on board. Outside, the rain thumped against the plastic. Inside, his heart thumped much louder.

  He used the flashlight on his phone to look around, trying to recall anything, but again nothing came. The boat rocked in the angry current as he continued into the cabin. No memory was triggered that could help him in his quest. He looked at the couch that converted to a bed and thought about his time there with Kerri. They had come to the boat to make love on several occasions. Despite his fear of the water, she’d always made him feel comfortable, safe. He shut his eyes and thought he could still smell her perfume and their sweat floating in the air. Oh, how he missed her. He searched for a single spark that might tell him something, but it was as if he were seeing the boat for the first time. No memories from Saturday night came forth.

  As Liam was turning to leave, his flashlight caught a piece of metal shining in the corner of the hull where the tabletop folded down into the floor for the bed. He leaned in and saw something sticking out from between the cushions on the couch. It looked like a small metal chain or perhaps one of Sean’s fishing lures. He reached over and untangled it from the fabric, then held it up to the light.

  It was Vanessa’s charm bracelet.

  The chrome from one of the charms was what had caught his eye. He turned it around in his hand and recognized the tiny medical bag that represented her profession, the cross that reminded her of her mother, and the angel that represented her mother watching over her. What had Vanessa been doing on Sean’s boat?

  Vanessa doesn’t know about Kerri.

  Motive.

  Only you, me, and Don know about everything.

  Liam carefully climbed out of the boat and refastened the cover to keep the rain out. He scurried back up the stairs toward land and hurried into the tackle shop. Inside, Bud Statler, the owner, sat behind the counter watching an old tube television that was propped up on a stool. There was
no one else in the store.

  “Hey, Liam!” Bud called when he walked in. “Where’s Sean?”

  “Just me today.”

  “Trying your luck in the rain? I hear they’ve been biting.”

  “You know I don’t go out on the water.”

  Bud smiled. “Oh, yeah. Right.” He hopped off his seat and leaned over the counter. “What can I get for you then? T-shirt maybe?”

  The store was quiet. “Listen,” Liam began. “I gotta ask you a strange question, so bear with me.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Was I here the other day? Do you remember seeing me on Saturday?”

  Bud shook his head. “No, I don’t think you’ve been in here since last season. I haven’t seen you. Why?”

  Liam tried on a smile he was sure didn’t work. “Had a good time drinking and can’t remember a thing. Trying to retrace my steps. Sean thought I might’ve come to the boat.”

  “A blackout!” Bud shouted. There was a hint of admiration in his eyes now. Perhaps the land lover wasn’t so bad after all. “Oh, man, I’ve been there before, my friend. Been there too many times.” He laughed and smiled. “But no, didn’t see you. If you came by the dock, you didn’t come in here.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  “If you find out what happened, let me know. We’ll trade stories.”

  Liam waved and walked out as Bud was still laughing. The traffic from the bridge above was a constant droning. He had started back to his car when the Asian man, Grandpa, began calling to him in his native tongue. Liam waved but kept moving. He wasn’t in the mood to pay for pictures in the rain.

  Kiki ran up to him. “Mr. Liam!” he cried. “Mr. Liam, wait!”

  “No pictures today, Kiki. Maybe some other time.”

  “My grandfather is asking where your lady is?”

  “She’s not here.”

  Kiki stepped in front of Liam to stop his progress. “She promised to buy our pictures when you were here on Saturday, but we haven’t seen her. Is she still going to buy them?”

  “What lady are you talking about?”

  “The lady you come here with.”

  “She was here the other day?”

  “Yes.”

  “When?”

  “Saturday. With you.”

  “Show me the pictures.”

  Kiki walked Liam over to his grandfather and spoke to the old man in Cantonese. Grandpa picked up a metal box and opened it, rifling through what must have been hundreds of pictures from people who’d refused to pay.

  “It’s one dollar for one picture,” Kiki explained.

  “I know how much it is.” Liam took out a five and handed it over. “Are you sure it’s me you want?”

  “Mr. Liam and his girl. No Mr. Sean.”

  The old man pulled out two pictures. Liam took them and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. In one picture it was just him. The other showed Kerri, both taken without them realizing it. Kerri was looking past the camera at the water, and in his, he was almost completely turned away. The sky above each of them in the photo was clear and blue. He’d been with Kerri four days ago. The photographs confirmed it.

  He’d been with her the day she was murdered.

  “You’re sure these were taken four days ago? On Saturday?”

  Kiki nodded. “Four days. Grandpa take picture, and your girl says she will buy them next day. Now we don’t see her. Cost is two dollars. One picture, one dollar. You have two pictures there. Two dollars.”

  Liam nodded and turned to walk away.

  “Wait! You want change?”

  “Keep it.”

  “Thank you! Come again!”

  Kerri was smiling in her picture, just as she’d always been. She was with him the day she was murdered. He was with her. Now she was dead.

  What was happening?

  28

  Don climbed the winding driveway toward the sprawling six-bedroom colonial that sat perched atop a rocky hill. The rain had subsided, and the sky was gray with thick clouds hovering low in the atmosphere. He was angry about Sean and Liam going behind his back to check on his whereabouts with his mother, but he was furious that Liam thought he could have anything to do with Kerri’s murder. All the years spent nurturing those boys, and now one of them—if not both of them—thought he could be capable of such a heinous act. If he had to clear his name, so be it. He had nothing to hide. He’d clear up any lingering suspicion they might have. Not a problem.

  The file he’d pulled was from Heckle and Keenan’s witness list. There was no question he was stepping on toes coming up here without anyone knowing, but it was time to do some digging himself.

  He parked at the foot of the pathway that led to the porch and climbed out of the car, taking a final look at the sheet of paper in his hand and matching the number on one of the pillars with the address from the computer printout. Satisfied, he folded the paper back in his pocket and walked along the path toward the front door. He ascended the stairway, then listened as his heels scraped and clicked on the porch’s hollow flooring below. He had no idea what to expect or how much information he could uncover after Heckle and Keenan had already been through here. But he had to do something.

  He rang the bell and could hear noise inside. A middle-aged man opened the front door and stepped forward. “Detective Carpenter?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The man shook Don’s hand. “Russ Wilcox. Tina’s father. Please, come in.”

  Don followed Russ through the small foyer. “I appreciate you seeing me.”

  “The other detectives have already been by, and the girls told them everything they knew.”

  “I understand. I just have some follow-up questions that might help in the investigation. This won’t take long.”

  “Anything we can do. The girls are inside.”

  “How are they holding up?”

  Slumping his shoulders, Russ stopped and turned around. “This was a shocker,” he said. “I don’t know that they’ll ever be completely okay. They were close friends. I don’t think it’s really hit them yet.”

  “I see.”

  “They seem to think it’s their fault Kerri’s dead. They think if they didn’t leave her at the club, she’d still be alive.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think young people do dumb things, and if that means going off by yourself with someone you don’t know or leaving a friend at a club without calling the police, then those are the unfortunate lessons others learn from. Makes me sick to know Kerri had to learn her lesson the way she did.” Russ shook off any remaining thoughts. “Look, I didn’t get a lawyer. You think I’m going to need one?”

  “That won’t be necessary. This is just routine.”

  “They’re in the living room.”

  Tina Wilcox and Megan Curry were sitting together on the sofa when Don and Russ entered. They looked up at him as he sat on the love seat, opposite the girls. The two young women held one another, their shoulders touching, their hands clasped together. They waited as Don read over his notes in silence. Megan held a picture of Kerri in her free hand, absently rubbing it with her thumb. It was clear they were both devastated. Crumpled and discarded tissues, black with mascara and moist with tears, created a small pile next to the girls on one of the end tables.

  “My name is Detective Carpenter,” Don began.

  “I’m Tina, and this is Megan,” the first young woman said, grabbing another tissue from the half-empty box.

  Don pointed to Tina. “You were the one who left the messages on Kerri’s voice mail? The investigating officers pulled it from her home phone.”

  “Yes. I called once at the club and once when we got home. We also left a bunch of messages on her cell. I even called her the other day, after they told us what happened. I know it’s stupid, but I needed to hear her voice again, so I called her cell and waited for it to go to her voice mail.”

  “You stated you guys got into the club around nine o’clock?”<
br />
  “Yes, around nine. We got something to eat in Center City at, like, six and had to wait on the line for about twenty minutes, so I think nine o’clock would be a pretty good guess.”

  Don finished writing and turned his attention to the other girl. “Megan, tell me what happened when you entered the club. I know you already went through this with the other detectives, but think for a moment. Did you see anyone you knew? Did you go for a drink? Tell me what happened while you were all together.”

  Megan rubbed Kerri’s picture as she rested her head on Tina’s shoulder. “We got in and went to the bar. We each had a drink and hung out for a few songs. We danced together, got another drink, and then these two guys came up to me and Tina and asked us if we wanted to dance. We said yes and went. That’s the last time we saw Kerri. When we got back to the bar, she was gone. We figured she was dancing. We spent the rest of the night dancing too, figuring we’d run into her eventually. The place is pretty big. It’s not unusual to get separated during the night. I guess we started to wonder where she was by midnight.”

  “When did you start to look for her?”

  “We hung out at the bar for, like, four songs and looked around the place from where we were. We didn’t see her. Then we went into the lounge and onto the dance floor to find her. We checked the bathrooms and even got a guy to check the men’s room. She wasn’t anywhere. That’s when I called the first time.”