What Have You Done Page 16

  “I was in Delaware today. Wilmington. We had a lead we had to follow up with. I just got back.”

  “Yeah, that’s what they told me. They said you went to Wilmington with Jane Somebody.”

  “Campelli. Jane Campelli. She’s on my team.” Liam followed his wife. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Why are you so upset?”

  Vanessa threw open a cabinet next to the stove and took out a wine glass. She walked over to the pantry and retrieved a bottle of merlot. “If you had to cross the state line on a lead, wouldn’t the FBI have to get involved?”

  “No. It was just a lead. We were following up on it from our jurisdiction.”

  “Are you lying to me, Liam? After everything we’ve been through, I need to know. Are you really trying to make things work? To make us work? Or are you lying about loving me and making our life together work again?”

  A mixture of confusion and anger began to boil within Liam. He knew it was the result of this ridiculous accusation but also the fact that she wasn’t totally wrong. It was as if she could somehow read his mind and make him see things for what they were, and he wasn’t ready for that.

  “Where is this coming from?” Liam asked. “What are you even talking about?”

  Vanessa poured the wine into her glass and took a sip. She put the glass down and stared at her husband. “I need to know the truth,” she said. “Are you having an affair with Jane Campelli?”

  Liam couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you kidding me? Jesus, this is all I need. You’re all worked up because I went to Wilmington with Jane on a lead? And now you think I’m having an affair with her?”

  “Answer the question!”

  “Of course not! That’s the most ridiculous and childish thing I ever heard. I was working today. Doing my job. The only reason why you know where I was is because you called to go to lunch. I have news for you: I travel all around the area during investigations, and this isn’t the first time I’ve crossed a border. Look, I’ve been patient, and I’ve been willing to reconstruct this marriage, but if this is how you’re going to act every time I’m not where you think I should be, then we have a lot more work ahead of us.” He stormed out of the kitchen, grabbed the file from the bench in the hall, and came back. He tossed the file across the marble island and watched as it landed in front of Vanessa, the glossy photos spilling from beneath the cover. “This is what I was doing today. Not an affair. A homicide.”

  Vanessa looked at some of the pictures and then pushed them away. “Tell me you love me,” she said.

  “Why are you—”

  “Tell me you love me!”

  Liam could feel everything crashing down on him. His anger intensified as he tried to reconcile his wife’s irrational reaction to the fact that he wasn’t at his office when she’d called. The two things didn’t mesh. The entire situation was so completely bizarre. “Why didn’t you call my cell?” he asked.

  “I did.”

  Liam pulled out his phone and checked the log. Two calls from Vanessa’s phone had posted. He hadn’t heard either of them.

  “Tell me you love me. That’s what I want to hear. I need to hear it.”

  “Why are you acting like this?”

  “Tell me you love me and you’d never do anything to hurt me.”

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  Vanessa slammed her wine glass down on the counter, and it shattered all over the photos and file. “Tell me!”

  “No, I can’t.” Liam backed out of the kitchen, shaking his head. “Not when you’re like this.” He turned, walked through the hall, and opened the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Away from you.”

  “Tell me you—”

  He slammed the door and ran out into the cool, silent night. His anger was getting the better of him, and he needed to get away. There was no particular destination in mind. Just away. He had to think.

  38

  Liam backed out of the driveway and whipped the car around onto the street. He drove for half a block, his anger fueling him to the point where he thought he might burst. His breathing was shallow, so he pulled over to the side of the road, sat back in his seat, and closed his eyes. He concentrated on his breathing. In, out. In, out. After a little while, he steadied himself and felt better. A thought flashed through his mind.

  Were you this angry when you killed Kerri?

  “No,” Liam said aloud as the thought vanished as quickly as it had come. “No.”

  He took a final breath and sat up, glancing into his rearview mirror in order to pull back out onto the street. He wasn’t exactly sure where he was going or where he’d end up, but he knew he had to get out of there. His mind was still spinning from what had just happened with Vanessa. Her emotions frightened him.

  And that’s when he saw Vanessa’s car pulling out of the driveway.

  It maneuvered its way out onto the road and drove off in the opposite direction, its red taillights outlining the sedan as it cruised to the intersection, then turned left. Liam immediately whipped his car around and followed. Where was she going now?

  He knew as it grew darker outside the night would give him the cover he’d need; however, the sun was still setting, which made him vulnerable to being spotted. He kept a safe distance between his car and Vanessa’s. Tailing someone hadn’t been part of his training as a forensics tech, so he relied on common sense and the movies he’d watched with his brother where Sean would point out when the Hollywood director had gotten police procedures right and when they were laughably wrong. The safest way to play it would be to stay a few cars behind and track her as best he could from there. If she turned, he’d speed up to find out where she was heading and then fall back again. If she stopped, he’d drive past her or turn onto another street. That was the best plan he could come up with.

  He followed her as she turned onto Route 42 North and took position in the left lane about four car lengths back. A truck in front of him helped disguise his position while, at the same time, he was able to keep his eyes on her car. It wasn’t until she turned off 42 and onto Interstate 295 North that he had an idea of where she was going.

  Sean’s house.

  Liam thought about the bracelet he’d found on his brother’s boat and Vanessa’s reaction when he’d told her where he’d gotten it from. Did Sean have more secrets than he was letting on? He tried to recall the other times they’d all been together. So many times. Had either of them acted strange, or were there signs he’d been missing all along?

  A laugh burst forth. He couldn’t help it. He was being foolish. This was nothing more than Sean being there for the family like he always was. Sean was the one who’d helped him reconcile with Vanessa after they’d decided to try to make things work. Sean had been the one to sit them both down and walk through the steps it would take to get their lives together. He’d been there for Liam more times than he could count. Why wouldn’t he do the same for Vanessa? Of course he would. Sean was the patriarch of the family, the leader who everyone else followed without question. And in this instance, Sean was the shoulder Vanessa could lean on when she needed to talk. After the fight they’d just had, he was certain she’d have plenty to say.

  Liam pulled off the road and parked on the street adjacent to his brother’s house. He watched as Vanessa drove into Sean’s driveway, climbed out of her car, and ran up the front steps to the door. She rang the bell and then looked around while she waited, but there was no way she’d be able to see him. He was hidden behind a set of hedges from one of the neighbors’ houses and within the shadow of the streetlights that were popping to life.

  The front door opened, and Sean appeared. He and Vanessa exchanged words Liam couldn’t hear, and then Sean reached out and gently brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen across her face, tucking it behind her ear. She let him do it, and when he was done, she reached up and placed her hands on his chest, lightly pushing him inside. The door closed behind them.

  Liam steppe
d out of the car. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d just seen. What was going on? The way they’d looked at each other. The way they’d touched. There was something there. He couldn’t interpret it as anything else. Vanessa had looked at him like that once. And now . . .

  He stopped when he got to the edge of Sean’s driveway and bent down behind a cluster of pine trees. He tried to see inside from where he was, but the house was perched on an incline, and he couldn’t make out anything past the front end of the porch. Moving without knowing exactly where he was going, Liam ran up the front yard and over to the side of the house. He peered through each of the windows. There was nothing to see. All of the shades had been drawn. He pressed his head against the glass to see if he could hear anything, but there was only silence.

  What are you doing?

  He ran around to the front of the house and carefully climbed the wooden steps onto the porch. He bent down to look through the window next to the front door. There was no curtain, but the hallway inside was empty. Where were they?

  “Liam?”

  Liam jumped and spun around, almost falling over the railing on the opposite side of the porch. Sean was standing down below on the gravel path that led to the garage, looking at him.

  “Jesus! You scared me.”

  Sean walked up the front steps. “What are you doing here?”

  “Vanessa and I had this huge fight.”

  “Yeah, I know. She’s inside.”

  “I followed her here.”

  “You followed her?”

  Liam shrugged. “I left, and then I saw her leave, and I wanted to know where she was going.”

  “She wanted to talk,” Sean replied. “She comes to me every once in a while when things are a little shaky with you two.”

  “She told me.”

  “Come inside. We can all talk about this together.”

  Liam shook his head. “No way. I don’t want her knowing I was following her. I feel like an ass as it is.”

  Sean walked across the porch and gently grabbed his brother by the arm. “Come inside, and we can talk this all out.”

  “No. I’m serious. I can’t.”

  “Get in the house, Liam. You both need this.”

  Liam yanked his arm away and pushed past Sean. “I said no. You go talk to her and be everyone’s hero like always. I don’t want to be part of your therapy session. Not today.”

  “Is this about what I said yesterday? Look, I’m sorry. I was drinking, and I acted like an idiot.”

  Liam hurried down the driveway and into the street. “You tell her I was here, and you’ll regret it. You got that?”

  “Come back,” Sean pleaded. “We can talk. All of us.”

  Without another word, Liam turned and ran from the house. Fear, anger, anxiety, and confusion balled in his stomach to the point he thought he might be sick. He got back into his car and drove away.

  39

  The bar was off the Walt Whitman Bridge on the outskirts of South Philadelphia. Liam didn’t know the name of it and didn’t much care. He sat in the corner next to a pool table that looked like it hadn’t been used in more than a decade. The felt was ripped, the pool sticks were missing, and only half the balls were scattered across the top. The rest of the place was in the same condition. A cluster of patrons sat around a dirty bar, and another small group of friends huddled around a table near the restrooms, which had curtains instead of doors. The wallpaper above the mounted television in the center of the dining area was torn and fell across half the screen. It was the perfect place to disappear and think. He had to think.

  He’d left Sean’s house and driven down 295 with thoughts crashing in on themselves, one after the other. By the time he’d focused on where he was, he realized he’d driven halfway over the bridge into the city. He’d turned onto the first street he came upon after crossing into Philadelphia and had seen the half-lit sign for the bar he now sat in. Instead of turning back around to head home, he’d pulled into the bar’s parking lot and shut off the engine. The rest of the night had been spent looking down at the bottom of his mug.

  Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d talk with Vanessa and then with Sean, and he’d try to set things straight again. That was the best he could do at this point. Perhaps he should’ve gone inside when his brother asked him to, but that ship had sailed. He’d missed his opportunity and could now only wait until tomorrow to start anew.

  “I knooow you.”

  Liam looked up to find a short, pudgy man swaying back and forth as he stood over his table, a drink in his fat hand, a stupid grin on his face. He looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place him.

  “I said I knooow you.”

  “I heard you the first time.”

  “You’re one of those cops from my hotel who came to clean up the girl from B11.”

  Now Liam recognized him. It was the hotel owner. Guzio something or something Guzio. Aside from being more than a bit tipsy, the man looked about the same as when he’d seen him that night at the Tiger. Liam wondered if he slept in his clothes.

  “I get my place back tomorrow,” Guzio slurred. “Get you friggin’ cops out of there so I can reopen. I got money to make. People in this city are relying on me. They need my hotel to open. They need me.”

  “I’m sure they do.”

  “You find the killer yet?”

  “We’re working on it.”

  “Sick bastard.” Every time Guzio spoke, he bumped into Liam’s table and splashed some of his drink onto the floor. “You see the way she was all carved up like that? Crazy.”

  Liam pushed his mug to the side and leaned back in his chair. “I really can’t talk about an open investigation. You have yourself a nice night.”

  “Hanging up there like a rag doll. Blood all over the place. You know, it cost me a pretty penny to scrub that blood off the carpet. Rug guy says I should replace the whole room, but screw that! Saved a ton of dough getting my boys to scrub it. Left a little stain, but no one would know what it is. We all have our secrets, right?”

  Liam closed his eyes, and all he could see was the scene from the hotel again. Kerri, the blood, the paper flowers.

  “Cops and detectives been back and forth a bunch of times. In and out. Always asking the same questions. I just want my place back. I gotta make some money! Been closed too long. Just ’cause that bitch gets cut up and hanged don’t mean I can keep losing money.”

  Liam shot up from his seat and stood over the short, sweaty man. They were inches apart. “I told you I can’t talk about an open investigation,” he sneered. “I think it’s time for you to go away.”

  Guzio’s face contorted and twisted as if he’d just sucked on a lemon. “You trying to get rid of me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know who I am?”

  “Yes. Go away.”

  Guzio backed up a step, and more of his drink splashed onto the floor. “You don’t tell me what to do. Cop or no cop, you don’t tell me what to do.”

  Liam matched his step. He tried to keep his voice at a hushed whisper, but he could see the others in the bar starting to turn to see what was going on. “You’re either going to sit back at that bar, or you’re going to leave. I don’t care which. Just get away from me. Now.”

  “Screw you!”

  “Go.”

  Guzio threw his glass down as hard as he could. Liam didn’t follow it, but heard it smash onto the floor; the sound of tiny shards bouncing across the stained black-and-white tiles filled the place. Vanessa had done the same thing to him in their kitchen only hours earlier.

  “Hey!” the bartender cried. He was an older man with a thick white beard. “Both of you get out, or I’m calling the cops!”

  “The cops are already here!” Guzio shouted, laughing. “This pig right here is threatening me.”

  “I don’t care who’s saying what. Get going, or you’ll have to tell your stories to the responding officers.”

  Liam stared at the little man as the rest of the p
lace went quiet. He wanted nothing more than to throttle him so he’d never get up, but he couldn’t risk the repercussions from either the police that would be called or the other patrons who would undoubtedly take the side of the insignificant blue-collar hotel owner over a cop. He stepped to the side to make his way out of the bar.

  “No need to call anyone,” he said calmly. “I’m leaving.”

  As Liam passed Guzio, the pudgy man grabbed him by the arm and pulled him closer. “Maybe instead of getting drunk at a dive bar, you and your boys should be out looking for the guy who made corned beef hash out of that pretty young thing.”

  And that was what it took. Without any further thoughts of reason or consequence, Liam punched Guzio as hard as he could. He felt his knuckles crush the little man’s nose and heard the crunching of bone and cartilage echo throughout the bar.

  Guzio fell back, unconscious before he landed on top of the table Liam had been sitting at, then onto the floor. Within seconds, two sets of strong hands grabbed Liam and threw him onto the ground. He couldn’t see who had him but couldn’t mistake the sound of a cocked shotgun. The voice of the bartender was loud and clear.

  “Cops are on their way,” he said. “You stay put until they get here.”

  40

  When Guzio opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was how dark it was. Night had taken over, and he couldn’t see. The second thing he noticed was the pain. His entire head pounded. He pushed himself up from his couch and stretched into a sitting position, using what little strength he had to wipe the drool from his cheek that had seeped onto one of the cushions. When the room stopped spinning, he gently touched his nose and winced as he felt the pain course through his entire body. It’d be a while before that healed.

  By the time he’d fully regained consciousness at the bar, the police were already on scene, and they had the other cop in the back of one of their cars. Guzio had given his statement and wanted to press charges, but he knew how pigs covered for one another, and there was no way these guys were going to allow that. In the end, the EMTs had patched him up, given him a handful of painkillers, and called a cab to take him home. When he’d arrived at his house, he’d popped a few pills, crashed on the couch, and passed out.