What Have You Done Read online

  Liam stood at the midway point of the stairs and looked out at the city’s skyline toward Eakins Oval. The very tops of the tallest buildings were hidden in a fog that had rolled in after the temperature dropped. The stone and marble around him still glistened with moisture from last night’s rain. It was beautiful. He dug into his pocket and came away with a gold pendant, holding it up, twirling it in his fingers, looking at it from different angles, front to back, side to side, all the while thinking of her. Kerri had given him the mini–magnifying glass as a gift when things were still fresh in their relationship. After he’d returned home the night before, he’d uncovered the lost memory and was struck to find the thoughts and emotions the pendant had attached to it were still as fresh as the day she’d given it to him. She used to call him the Great Inspector and would tease him in what she called her Sherlock Holmes accent.

  “Hey, little brother.”

  Liam quickly palmed the pendant and looked up. “You’re late.”

  Sean was one step below him. “Had to finish my reports on Cutter Washington. They put me on mandatory leave for a weapon’s discharge, but more importantly, it looks like we finally got him.”

  “How long you out for?”

  “A few days.”

  “Any word on the kid who got shot?”

  “He made it through the night okay, so that’s a good sign. Docs think he’ll make a full recovery. Has a tough road ahead of him, though.”

  Liam put the pendant in his pocket. “Come on—let’s walk.”

  The two brothers made their way down the rest of the steps and followed the sidewalk that would bring them around the back of the museum and into Fairmount Park. The trees in the park were budding, small white flowers popping from the tips of the branches, all lined in a row.

  Liam watched two kids running around a tree, chasing each other while their mother looked on. The sound of drilling and hammering filled the air, and he looked up to find a maze of scaffolding fanned out across the back of the museum. He couldn’t tell what the men were working on, but it appeared to be a sizeable project.

  “I think I’m being framed, Sean. It’s the only explanation.”

  Sean nodded. “How do you figure?”

  Liam took out his phone, pulled up several pictures of the crime scene, and handed it to his brother. Tiny circles were drawn around several objects in the hotel room. “We got some preliminary results back from the crime scene. The prints we lifted are mine. Two from the dresser there, and one on her watch. The blood we extracted from her fingernails matches my blood type. My rare blood type.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “I talked to Gerri Cain this morning, and she said it’s possible for someone to have a psychotic break and not remember long stretches of time, but if I really did do it, even in a state where my subconscious had taken over, wouldn’t I know how to clean up a crime scene and not leave any traces of anything that would point to me? Everything had been wiped down but the dresser and her watch. Those were the only things that point to no one but me. It doesn’t make sense. I felt no ill will toward Kerri. We ended the affair mutually. Why would I do something like what you saw at the Tiger? And the paper flowers.”

  Sean looked at the pictures on Liam’s phone, then handed it back to his brother. “So who’s doing this, then?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “And why?”

  “Don’t know that either. Whoever it is, they know a hell of a lot more than most people do. They know about Kerri, and they know about Mom. The paper flowers she left for us weren’t in the news back then. Neither was the way she cut up her hair.”

  “So who else knew about you and Kerri? We need to start there.”

  “Just me, you, Don, and Kerri.” Liam stopped walking. “I just saw Vanessa and Joyce. They were having lunch. Joyce mentioned Don was out Saturday night on a case. Last night too. Where was he?”

  “He was with me at the stationery store. The Cutter case.”

  “No, that was the morning. Joyce said he was out all night.”

  Sean laughed. “I think we can erase Don from our list of suspects. He’s the most honest guy I know. He wouldn’t take a pencil home from the department if it wasn’t authorized. No way he could do what we saw at the Tiger.”

  “But where was he Saturday night?”

  “His mom’s. She had an episode, and he had to go see her.”

  “Any way we can confirm that?”

  “He has no motive, Liam. Why would Don kill Kerri and frame us? There’s no reason.”

  “Can we confirm it or not?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Then do it.”

  The boys playing around the tree ran over to their mother, laughing. A street performer began playing a guitar and singing.

  Sean took a breath. “I heard about the autopsy results.”

  Liam didn’t respond.

  “She was pregnant.”

  “I know.”

  “Is it yours?”

  “The DNA from the fetus matches the DNA from the blood found under Kerri’s nails, so . . .” Liam couldn’t look at his brother. He stared at the crowd walking up the path toward the museum. “I found Kerri’s phone in the trunk of my car this morning. My clothes that were missing too. There was blood all over my clothes.”

  “What?”

  “Someone was calling her, and the damn thing started ringing in my car. How did it get there?”

  Sean looked out beyond the park as cars rushed by beyond the iron railings. “I think you might be right. I think someone might be trying to frame you. I’m not sure why, but we have to find out who’s doing this. Things are starting to spin out of control. All we need is for this guy to start contacting the department or a newspaper, and then we’re all suspects.”

  “You think they’re going to try and blackmail me?”

  Sean chuckled. “If that’s the case, they picked the wrong family.” He looked at his brother. “We need to be honest with each other. About everything. Starting now.”

  “I am being honest.”

  “Last night, Don went to Kerri’s apartment to try and get anything related to your affair out of there so we could buy some time to figure out what was going on. He got some pictures of you two, and they were time-stamped. You told me it had been three months since you last saw her, but the pictures say it’s been two weeks. Why would you lie about that? To me? I’m trying to help you.”

  Liam could feel his face flush. He shook his head and started walking again. “I was freaked when I saw her at the scene. Truth is I didn’t want to tell you we were still seeing each other because I know how much you helped me patch things up with Vanessa. It wasn’t romantic. Not really. We were friends. I needed her company, I guess. I didn’t want you to be disappointed with me. I had no idea all this other stuff would come up.”

  “I need the truth from now on,” Sean said. “All of it. No matter what you think my reaction might be. You have to let me know what’s going on. This affects me too. We’re in this together.”

  “Okay.” Liam walked behind a row of bushes, hiding himself from the other people walking through Fairmount Park. “One more thing.” He unbuttoned his shirt to reveal the scratch that ran down his chest. “If that really is my blood under Kerri’s nails, I’m assuming this was how it got there.”

  Sean studied the scratch, carefully reaching out to trace it with his finger. “Jesus Christ, Liam. What is happening?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Think for a second. How could Kerri scratch you and you have no memory of it?”

  “The same way I woke up in the tub and have no memory of how I got there. The whole night’s just gone.”

  “But if someone’s framing you, they would’ve needed to come in direct contact with you to make that scratch. With what? Kerri’s dead hand? That means you could’ve been at the Tiger that night. Or the club.”

  “I know.”

  Sean reached into his coat
pocket and rummaged around for something. He came away with a pair of sunglasses and pushed them into Liam’s hand. “Hold these.” He searched through his pocket again and finally pulled out his phone. He looked at the screen, read something, then put it back away and grabbed the glasses. “Don downloaded a bunch of files from Kerri’s computer onto a flash drive and then wiped it clean so no one would find anything connected to you.”

  “What was on the flash drive?”

  “No idea. I destroyed it.”

  “Why would you do something like that? There could’ve been something on there that could’ve cleared me.”

  “Or there could’ve been stuff on there that sealed your fate. I made a gut call and did what I thought was right. We don’t need any more evidence that points to you.” A crowd of tourists walked past them, fingers pointing in all directions. When they passed, Sean spoke again. “What else did you find from the investigation so far?”

  “The shoe print on the rug came back. Nothing out of the ordinary. It’s a Timberland boot. I forget the model number off the top of my head, but it was common enough to know it’d be a long shot. It’s one of their bestselling boots.”

  “You have a pair of Timberlands,” Sean replied, again watching the traffic round Kelly Drive. “This just keeps getting better.”

  “What should we do?”

  “Don said Heckle and Keenan already ordered her phone records from the apartment and her cell. Your number’s going to be on them. She called you the night she was killed, and you called her back the next day.”

  “Yeah.”

  “They’re going to trace your number back to you, and when they do, the dominos start to fall. I’m telling you, you’ll be charged with murder, and they’ll stop looking for who really did this. No one’s going to believe you’re being framed when you have a goddamn scratch down your chest and your blood in Kerri’s nails. You need to find a way to intercept those records, delete your number, and get them back to Heckle and Keenan. If you can bury that side, we can make this go away. Shred the fingerprint report and tell them it came up empty. If we let this go long enough without anything concrete, they’ll file the case away unsolved.”

  “I don’t want to make it go away. I want to find out who’s trying to frame me. I want to find out who knows about me and Kerri and arrest them.”

  “We will,” Sean replied. “But we have to do it on our own time. We don’t need an open investigation that points to you and only you. As soon as someone catches wind about your affair, it’s over. If there’s this much evidence against you, they’ll get a conviction. We need to make this go away, and then we can investigate on our own. Get the phone records.”

  20

  The ride from the city to his home across the Delaware River normally took about thirty minutes, but tonight Liam sat in bumper-to-bumper gridlock as traffic crawled methodically across the Walt Whitman Bridge. Three lanes had been merged into one because of an accident involving multiple cars.

  He dialed the technology division of the police department. Up ahead, he could see the flashing lights of emergency vehicles as the scene unfolded before him.

  “Tech. Nelson here.”

  “Yeah, Nelson, this is Detective Heckle,” Liam said. His voice shook as he spoke. “I’m lead on the Kerri Miller homicide. You guys were supposed to have some phone records for me. You get anything from the carriers yet?”

  Tapping of computer keys.

  “Nothing yet,” Nelson replied. “Should have them before the night’s out, but they’re not in at this point. I’ll email them to you when I get them.”

  “I need them as soon as possible. If I come in early tomorrow, you think they’ll be there?”

  “Yeah, should be. I’ll get in touch with the phone company and light a fire.”

  “I’m counting on you, Nelson. My boss is up my ass about this report I need to complete.”

  “I’ll get ’em to you by morning. I’m on it.”

  “Thanks.”

  “No sweat.”

  He hung up and flipped on the radio to listen to chatter while his mind wandered. It had been a few hours since he’d left Sean at the museum. There hadn’t been much more conversation after they’d walked through the park and ended up back at the steps. What more could have been said? They needed to find out who was doing this before Heckle and Keenan found out about his affair.

  He gripped the steering wheel, inching closer toward the flashing lights on the side of the bridge. His blood had ended up under her fingernails. He rubbed the scratch on his chest as a small whimper of doubt questioned how it had really gotten there. This was a game. A sick game. It had to be. But still, he couldn’t remember anything from that night.

  When he’d gotten back to his office after the museum, he’d erased the computer history of his identification match in the database and shredded the computer printout as Sean had instructed. Jane had called several times, but he had never answered. Tomorrow. He would handle it all tomorrow.

  Horns sounded behind him as other drivers grew impatient now that the finish line was in sight. He was in the single lane, inching closer. He crawled past the flashing lights of the accident and stepped on the accelerator, merging with the rush of traffic, heading into the night, toward home, where Vanessa waited. He pulled the gold pendant from his pocket and let it sway back and forth between his fingers as he drove. The mini–magnifying glass represented another life, another time. He opened his window and threw it out onto the road. There was already far too much connecting him to Kerri. He needed to walk a fine line from now on.

  After the traffic had spread out, the commute home was mundane. The sports chatter on the radio helped distract him for a few more minutes, and it wasn’t long before he was pulling into his driveway as the sun was setting and turning the sky a brilliant combination of blue and pink.

  Liam entered the house and was immediately surrounded by hundreds of votive candles dancing in the darkness. His senses were engulfed by lavender while R & B played from the stereo in the living room. He dropped his briefcase and stood dumbfounded in the foyer, staring at the tiny flickering flames strewn across the floor, balanced on tables, and lining the hallway. The rest of the house was dark. He followed the candles down the hall into the living room, where the fireplace crackled with romance. Vanessa was lying on the couch dressed in only a silk robe, the robe open and falling off her thin and toned body.

  “Hey, stranger,” she whispered seductively. “I thought you weren’t gonna make it.”

  Liam feigned a smile, trying his hardest to get into the moment but knowing full well he wanted to be anywhere but there. “I hit some traffic. Accident on the bridge.”

  “Well, I’m glad you’re home. Come over here, and let me show you how much I missed you today.”

  There was a time, years ago, when Liam wouldn’t have been able to contain himself, but as he looked on, disinterested and distracted, he felt nothing. He wasn’t turned on or shocked or appalled or disgruntled. He wasn’t happy or sad or confused or ungrateful. He wasn’t anything. Standing in front of his beautiful wife lying naked on the couch, waiting for him to take her, Liam wanted nothing more than to turn around, climb the stairs to his bedroom, and go to sleep. All he could see was Kerri’s mangled body hanging from the pipes in that hotel room, and he fought off the tears that wanted to come. He heard the instructions from their marriage counselor echoing in his mind.

  Be spontaneous.

  Learn to love one another again.

  Find each other.

  Remember why you decided to spend your lives together, and let that fuel your newfound romance.

  He walked toward Vanessa and knelt beside her. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

  Vanessa smiled. “Like I said yesterday, I’m sorry for being a bitch. I wanted to make it up to you, and I figured since you owed me for lunch, this’ll make us even.”

  “You didn’t have to do all this. The candles and the music.”


  “I want to. I love you, Liam. No matter what we’ve gone through, I love you. You’re the man I want to be with for the rest of my life. You and me. Forever.”

  She leaned in and kissed him slowly. He felt her lips touch his, but there was nothing he could do to take his mind off of Kerri. A part of him wished it was Kerri who was on that couch instead of his wife, and it pained him to admit that to himself. There was no love Liam could offer Vanessa that would be genuine. He backed away and stood. “I can’t,” he muttered. “Not tonight.”

  Vanessa looked stunned. “Wait, what? Why? What’s wrong?”

  “I just can’t do this right now. I’m sorry. I love you, but I want to just go upstairs and go to bed.”

  In one swift motion, Vanessa sat up on the coach and pulled her robe closed. “You want to go to sleep?”

  “I know it sounds crazy.”

  “Yes, it does.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s not you. There’s just too much going on at work, and I’m exhausted.”

  “Work? Is that what this is about? What’s wrong with you? I set all this up, and you’re not into it? You’re tired? Last night you come home and didn’t want to be bothered. The counselor said—”

  “I know what the counselor said.”

  “If we’re going to rebuild our marriage, I need you here with me. I love you. Don’t you understand that?”

  Vanessa tried to take his hand, but he pulled away. “I can’t. I’m going to bed.”

  “You promised me. You promised you’d make it up to me for missing lunch.”

  “I know. And I will. Just not tonight.”

  He walked out of the living room and past the candles that had showed him the way. He could feel her staring at him, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was Kerri and the fact that he was being framed for her murder.

  21

  His mother opened the front door, and already the house felt different. There was a silence he hadn’t experienced before, a void of some kind. His father was dead—he knew that. But this was a different kind of emptiness. It was as if the spirit of the house—the good times and laughs and love and playfulness—had been snuffed out like the last embers of a fire that had burned for too long. There was a nothingness now, a desolation he couldn’t comprehend at his age. But he knew it was there. He could sense it, smell it. And that scared him most of all.