Thankfully, as Morelli starts to question them regarding aspects of the case, Stu does just that. He sits between Harper and Dudley.
Once the general details of their investigation are out of the way, Morelli looks at Dudley.
“If you’d give us a minute, Detective.”
“Huh?”
Morelli indicates the door to his office, his hand held out, palm up. “If you would, John.”
“Oh.” Dudley stands, looks at Harper and Raley, then leaves. The door clicks shut behind him.
Captain Morelli pops a candy in his mouth and rolls it around. “I’ve gotta do a press conference on live TV. I’m trying to hold those bloodsuckers off, but you two know how these things are. They’re par for the course.”
“Yes sir,” Stu says.
“So, at some point, I’m going to be telling the country we have a killer here in Hope’s Peak,” Morelli says. “How are you doing with those files? Are they much use?”
“Yes and no,” Harper tells him. “Raley has made a list of everyone who helped cover this up.”
“Yeah?”
Harper thinks back to her conversation with the captain at the ME’s office. “As I said earlier today, there’s going to be a lot of fallout from this. More than for the murders themselves, I expect.”
“One of the big names is that of Hal Crenna. He’s a former captain of police who worked his way up from the bottom. Now he’s about to become mayor of Hope’s Peak,” Stu says. “At least, it’s looking that way.”
Morelli nods. “I know Hal.”
“Back in the day, Crenna falsified two of the reports in those files you gave us. That revelation would put his career aspirations on permanent hold,” Stu says.
“You don’t have to tell me that, Detective,” Morelli snaps. “But like I said earlier to your partner here, the main focus has to be stopping these murders. Then, and only then, can we deal with the corruption in the department. If that means I have to step away from this position, then so be it.”
Harper leans forward, hands clasped between her knees. “Sir, neither of us believes you’re dirty. But there’s been a big cover-up here, and I’m not sure why. There’s protecting the town, but this goes beyond that. I think someone knew the identity of the killer, and that’s why the deaths of these girls had to be swept under the rug.”
“Well, I know one thing,” Morelli says, crunching through the candy. “Right now, in the eyes of the public, we’re chasing our tails here. We are unable to protect the citizens of this town from a sexual predator and murderer.”
“All the more reason to do a press conference, sir,” Harper tells him. “Get the word out there. If we get some exposure, it might stay the killer’s hand long enough for us to catch him.”
Morelli looks at her. “The operable word here being ‘might.’”
Leaving the captain’s office, Harper feels a hand on her arm.
Stu steers her to the left, to one of the supply closets. He yanks the pull cord, the single bulb illuminating the dingy confines of the tiny room, and shuts the door.
“What’s up?” she asks him.
He’s flustered. Red in the face. “All that about the TV interviews? I hope it’s made you rethink what you’re planning on doing.”
“What d’you mean? Taking Ida to see the body?”
He rolls his eyes. “What else? Come on, Jane. See sense here. If the press gets wind that you’ve marched a goddamn psychic into the morgue, public confidence will plummet. They’ll eat us alive. And that’s not the worst. If they put two and two together and realize she’s the daughter of a victim—”
“Look, even if that happens, they won’t make the connection. As far as they’re aware, Ruby Lane isn’t connected to the case. At least, not until we expose the truth at some point. Going on the assumption we ever catch the guy . . .”
“Ida is a soothsayer. Nothing more. Having her anywhere near the investigation makes it look like we’re relying on voodoo or some other nonsense, rather than good old-fashioned police work,” Stu tells her. He crosses his arms, looks down at the floor. When Harper reaches out and holds his shoulders, Stu looks back up at her. “What?”
“I hear you. Honestly, I do. But I can’t do this without you. I want to break this case. So far, all we have are bits and pieces. I think we’re on the verge of something here. I need you with me.”
The silence stretches out, and for a moment, she wonders if he will turn her down, but he nods once, frowning.
“Okay,” he says. “But I do this out of respect for you as my partner, not for anything else.”
That hurts, but she takes it on the chin. “Okay. You’re not letting your personal feelings get in the way. I respect that.”
“Good.”
“I just hope all this isn’t about me blowing hot and cold with you, Stu. Because I have my reasons. I’m not your ex-wife, okay?” Harper says.
“I know, I know,” he says.
Harper opens the door. “Come on, before someone wonders why we’re standing in a closet.”
7
The road is a dark river through the night and she rides the current.
Ida sits forward against the steering wheel, concentrating on the asphalt. Driving at night has never been her forte, and for once, she will be glad to be off the back roads. There’s something comfortable about joining the flow of traffic at night, the beams of opposing headlights giving a false sense of security she nonetheless buys into. She has the radio on—the station is playing an old Leonard Cohen number she knows but can’t put a name to. In that way, old songs are like old friends you meet in the street. You talk for a while, having genuine back-and-forth, all the while trying to remember what they’re called.
The detective told her to get to the Buy N Save in Hope’s Peak at eleven. She knows her watch runs five or six minutes fast, and even that is telling her she’s late.
It’s my fault.
Ida was set to go. She’d thrown some stuff in the truck, made sure everything was switched off in the house, closed all the windows, was about to leave when she was positively crippled with fear. She opened the screen door, and an invisible hand took her gut and wrenched it around, twisted it up tight. Ida doubled over in pain, stumbled back, the door swinging shut. There in the darkness of her house, she found she could not move. Could not go near the door.
Come on. One step at a time.
She tried, she really did. Yet the thought of getting out there, of heading into the night on her own, with the prospect of being in the presence of a dead body, scared her more than anything had in a long while. Even the dreams did not have the toxic effect the fear was having on her then.