“Bennett recovered it,” Buddy said. “When he responded to the call.”
So Bennett hadn’t slipped. He’d gotten there first, taken the money, and then fallen on purpose. He’d wanted to pollute the crime scene. “It must have been frustrating when Castle died and it was all for nothing,” Archie said.
Buddy rubbed his temples with one hand, as if he had the vaguest beginnings of a headache. “I knew Susan Ward wouldn’t let the story go. Even with Molly gone. Castle wanted to go public.” He looked up at Archie, and shrugged. “I had to kill him. He was weak. He had arranged to confess everything to Parker. I had Bennett do it. I’m not sure I could have gone through with it. Bennett followed Castle and Parker over the bridge and then fired an air pistol at the front tire. The tire got shredded going through the fence, so they never saw the bullet hole. Maybe if Parker had been sober, he could have avoided going off the bridge, might have at least hit the brakes. I hated doing it, but someone had to protect his legacy. Castle was the best senator this state’s ever had.”
“You killed him to protect him,” Archie said.
“He would have been publicly humiliated,” Buddy said. “I couldn’t let that happen. You understand that, right? When you work your whole life in public service, you don’t want to end it in disgrace.” He took a sip of his coffee and gazed off into the middle distance again. “I protected you, you know. I saw you once.” He smiled and turned back to Archie. “With her.”
Archie’s mouth went dry. Buddy knew about Archie’s affair with Gretchen? And he’d never said anything. He’d let Archie see her in prison, week after week, for two years. Why?
“Don’t worry,” Buddy said with a wink. “I won’t tell anyone.” He leaned over and carefully placed his coffee on the floor. Then he reached to his hip, pulled out a semiautomatic, and shot himself under the jaw. The gunshot echoed through the room and Buddy’s body slammed back and then slumped in the chair. One of Buddy’s feet jerked, knocking the coffee cup. It teetered for a moment before it tipped and splattered coffee onto the linoleum.
Susan stepped out of the bathroom. She had one hand over her mouth. And in the other hand she held a digital recorder. “Jesus fucking Christ,” she said.
CHAPTER
68
They had moved Archie to another room while the crime scene guys scraped the mayor’s brains off the walls.
Henry had gotten six hours’ sleep. He had shaved his head. He was wearing clean clothes. Archie was alive. The park murders had been solved. Bennett looked like he might come to and learn how to feed himself in jail.
Things were looking up.
Fergus was in with Archie, so Henry was standing out in the hall. He saw Debbie get out of the elevator and walk toward him. Her face was stricken. “I heard what happened,” she said. “Christ, Henry.”
“Archie’s okay,” Henry said. “We can go in in a minute.”
Debbie’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m not going in,” she said. “I can’t see him anymore. You know that, right? I love him. I do. But I can’t do this. He doesn’t want me to. I’m done.”
“He needs you,” Henry said.
She smiled and touched Henry’s face, her eyes still wet. “He needs you,” she said.
He watched as she walked down the hallway and stepped onto the elevator. She waved once as the doors closed.
Fergus exited Archie’s room with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground. And walked right into Henry.
“Sorry,” Fergus said.
“How is he?” Henry asked.
“Not out of the woods,” Fergus said. He pulled at a fat, fuzzy earlobe. “You need to get him clean and you need to keep him clean.”
“He’s ready,” Henry said.
Fergus put a hand on Henry’s shoulder. It was an awkward gesture. “You can’t make someone stay alive if they don’t want to,” he said.
Henry watched Archie sleep.
He had sat like this before, after Archie’s first run-in with Gretchen. That time Archie had spent three weeks in a medically induced coma. They’d thought they’d freed him. But Henry realized now that Archie had always been her prisoner.
“Are you going to get the phone?” Archie asked without opening his eyes.
Henry got his ringing cell phone out of his pocket, looked at it, and then put it back. “It’s an unknown caller,” he said.
Archie opened his eyes. “Pick it up,” he said.
Henry hit TALK and lifted the phone to his ear. “Hello?” he said.
“Hello, dear,” Gretchen said.
Henry thought about hanging up. Just hang up the phone. Wrong number. Stop it now. Tell Archie something, anything, to explain it away. But he couldn’t. Because as much as Archie wanted to catch Gretchen, Henry wanted to catch her more. “How did you get this number?” he asked.
Archie sat up on his elbows in bed.