Three strikes, p.14
Three Strikes, page 14
He thought about it. “She hung around with Mike a lot.”
“Mike LeBlanc?”
“Yeah.” Aaron’s face brightened. “They hung around a lot. I asked him if there was something going on with them and he just laughed like it was a big joke.”
“Did he.” Not a question. Was it just a coincidence that Mike was the one out of that little group who wasn’t around to defend himself?
“Yeah. They’d go off together sometimes. Said they were smoking, but I always thought there was something else going on.”
“She was thirteen,” Audrey reminded him. “Never occurred to you to tell the eighteen-year-old to keep his hands to himself?”
He looked surprised that she asked. Horrified, even. “No. She was older than that. Wasn’t she?” His face was white. “Christ.”
Now he looked like a man with something to hide. A man who was just realizing what he’d done. At that moment, Aaron Patrick became her number two potential for Mac’s father. “Did Mike hang around with anyone else?”
Aaron shrugged. The motion pulled his shirt close to his body, drawing attention to his midsection. Beer belly? Or did his wife feed him well? “That old Neeley guy was around a lot.”
Bertie. Did he know about Mike and Maggie? Audrey thought of the white cross by the river, where Mike had died. Bertie certainly seemed to have some guilt where Mike was concerned. “No one else?”
Aaron shook his head. He actually looked sorry. “It was a long time ago. I spent a lot of time trying to hook up with Barbie Stokes, you know? I didn’t pay a lot of attention to what other people were doing. Or who.” He chuckled at his own joke, but his cheeks were still pale and his gaze was troubled.
“Who was Greg interested in?” she heard herself ask. She could kick herself. She didn’t know if he and Greg talked much anymore. And what if Aaron told her brother-in-law she’d asked?
“Oh, Greg never really seemed to be interested in any one person. There were a couple of girls he’d hook up with on occasion, but nothing regular. One of them was Julie Pelletier.”
Audrey’s cousin. At least Julie would have been of legal age. “Do you know Mike’s family?” she asked. “Someone who might be willing to give us a DNA sample?”
He blinked. “DNA?”
“Yes. It’s the only way to prove if he was or wasn’t Mackenzie’s father.”
“Mike LeBlanc’s mother, Carol, lives down by the Methodist church. Little blue house. Now, if you will excuse me, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t remember any of Maggie’s guys, and I have papers to mark.”
She was tempted to push it. Tempted to ask Aaron for his own DNA, but she knew she wouldn’t get it. And since she might want to talk to him again, Audrey decided to drop it for now. If he shot them down completely she might never get a chance to get close enough to investigate him further.
Investigate. Like she was some kind of private detective. God. Solving two murders didn’t make her Jessica Fletcher, though the old girl did know how to rock a tracksuit.
“Thanks for your time, Aaron,” she said, standing. She offered him his hand. “I appreciate you meeting with me.”
Aaron looked confused. It took him a moment to put his hand around hers. He looked as though he’d rather bite down on an electric fence than touch her, but he did. “Of course. I hope you find the young girl’s father.”
She smiled at him. “I’m sure I will. Thanks.”
She left him standing there, by his desk. She could feel his gaze on her as she left the classroom. With the ghosts of the place closing in around her, Audrey quickened her pace until she practically ran down the stairs to the foyer and outside. She called Neve on her way to the car—to see if her friend might be able to expedite any DNA samples she collected. She told her about her meeting with Aaron, and that she was going to see Carol LeBlanc.
“Is it wrong that I’m hoping it’s the dead guy?” Neve asked.
Audrey chuckled dryly. “Nope. I’m rooting for him too. Listen, I gotta go. Talking on your cell phone while driving is against the law.”
“Ha. Aaron Patrick is one of Bailey’s favorite teachers. I’m really hoping it’s not him.”
“Yeah,” she replied, then added just before disconnecting, “I think he’s really hoping it’s not him too.”
Nineteen years ago
“You look happy,” Maggie said when Mike sat down on the sofa beside her. They were at Aaron’s camp. There was a party going on—the place was full—but it was all teenagers, so she felt reasonably safe. Boys were easier to manipulate than grown men. “I am happy,” he confided, giving her a coy glance out of the corner of his eye. “I think I have a boyfriend.”
“What?” she squealed.
“Ssshh!” He glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to them. “Keep it down! You think I want any of these Neanderthals to know I’m gay?”
Right. She should have known better. There were guys in that camp who would drag him out back and beat him stupid because they thought gay might be contagious. She scooted closer on the couch. “Who is it?”
He shook his head, grinning like an idiot. “Not telling. You don’t know him.”
He was lying. Jealousy shot through Maggie. Mike was her friend. A good friend, so who was this guy he wanted to keep secret? Secret from her? “Yeah, well, I have someone too.” Two could play that game. She hadn’t planned to tell anyone her secret—it was something special just for her—but she’d use it if she had to.
His expression turned to disbelief. “Who?”
She smirked. “Not telling.”
“He’s not here, is he?” He looked around the room.
“So what if he is?” Her smirk grew. “You want to confront him? Make sure he’s treating me right?”
“I want to kick his ass. He’s old enough to know better.”
“Seriously?” That was a disappointment, and not the answer she wanted. “The fag’s going to get all moral on me? Like I’d date anyone under seventeen.” Save that for Audrey. Maggie couldn’t be bothered with little boys.
He looked like she’d slapped him. “What did you call me?”
Maggie sat up, suddenly cold inside. Shit, she’d gone too far. She always went too far. “Mike, it was a joke.”
“Yeah, right.” He nodded. His cheeks were flushed a dull red as he stood up. “This is a joke too—you mean fucking slut.” He walked away then, leaving her sitting there, feeling like she was going to cry.
“You okay?” came a familiar voice.
Maggie looked up. Tears were filling her eyes. She blinked them away as she shook her head. She couldn’t find her voice. Of course that would be the moment when he showed up. Now he’d think she was weak. A stupid little girl.
He offered her his hand. “Come on.”
Maggie knew what would happen when she let him lead her away, and she was okay with it. At least it was her decision.
She took his hand.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tuesday morning arrived cold and gray. Audrey did not want to get out of bed, but she and Jake were going to look at the property back the Ridge that might suit her new business plan. She’d managed to catch up with Angeline again the night before, and her boss was definitely interested in the project she had in mind. Audrey knew better than to get too excited, but she was. More excited than she’d been about anything in a long time.
She needed to check in on her mother later too. Thank God her brother David would be arriving within the week to stay for a few days leading up to Thanksgiving. He only lived in New York, but his job made it hard for him to get home on short trips.
She also had to drop Duger’s DNA sample off at the lab in Machias. There weren’t many to choose from in the area, but Neve had a friend at this one who said their DNA workload was light at the moment and that results should only take three to five days to come back. Mackenzie was determined to travel back and forth between Calais and Edgeport for as long as it took, but Audrey was hoping it wouldn’t come to that. By now the entire town knew why Mac was there, and no one had stepped forward to claim her, which meant her father either didn’t want to be found out (Aaron?), had left town, or was dead (Mike). Regardless, it might never get sorted out.
Maybe she could do that thing they did in crime shows and steal Aaron’s discarded coffee cup to get his DNA. She was going to be in the area again later that day, but this time to see Carol LeBlanc. The woman’s eagerness to meet with her was almost sad. Audrey had found herself truly hoping Mike was the one, just so Carol could have the grandchild she so obviously wished she’d had.
Audrey dressed warmly in a sweater, jeans, boots, and a wool coat. Jake wore a similar outfit, though he managed to look rugged and casual in his. He needed to shave and he could stand a haircut, but she liked it when he looked rough around the edges. There was something that felt right about the two of them standing on the front porch—Gracie’s old porch—with the air smelling of snow and woodsmoke, and a dreamlike quiet over the property. The only sound were the gulls swooping around the tidal inlet below the cliff across the road. It was low tide, and the birds were after a late breakfast. She stood on the wooden planks—they needed paint—and looked around her. The darkness of what had happened to Maggie that winter and spring didn’t matter at that moment and for a few seconds she didn’t wonder what secrets the townsfolk were trying to keep. She didn’t even care who Mac’s father was, because the girl was a good kid despite sharing his DNA.
“What?” Jake asked, glancing down at her.
“This,” she said, shoving her gloved hands in her coat pockets. “It’s pretty damn close to perfect.”
“Thinking about running, Aud?”
She shook her head. “Thinking about staying.” She only lifted her gaze to his after she said it.
He looked at her for a moment before putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. “Keep thinking about it.”
A car speeding back the road caught their attention, and then completely ruined the mood when it slowed and pulled into the drive.
“Oh, fuck,” Jake muttered. “What did we do to deserve this?”
“I talked to Duger,” she replied dismally as Jeannie Ray got out of her truck and slammed the door. If she wasn’t reason to burn the entire town to the ground, Audrey didn’t know what was. She was a scarecrow of a woman, skinny to the point of shapelessness. Smoking and bitterness made her look older than her early to mid sixties, but she was as formidable as an old witch could be as she stalked across the gravel toward the house.
“Audrey Harte,” she called in her sharp, raspy voice. “You stay the hell away from my son.”
“Jeannie Ray,” Jake called back. “Get your bony ass off my land.”
The woman stopped in her tracks and blinked. She hadn’t expected that. “He’s a good boy, so you leave him alone.”
“Back off, Jeannie.” Audrey slipped free of Jake’s arm to walk down the steps. “I didn’t do anything to Doo … Scott. We talked.”
“You took that girl to his house. Now all he can talk about is Maggie’s daughter, like she’s some kind of damn unicorn.”
Audrey tilted her head. “I’m sure he gave you some choice tidbits you were only too happy to share with the Network.” The Network was made up of a small group of local women who formed the gossip nucleus of the community. Yancy had been part of it, but stepped back after Audrey and Jake got together. She didn’t want to gossip about her brother, and if he was with Audrey, there was going to be gossip. Yancy probably didn’t want to hear it either.
Jeannie didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. “She never should have had that baby, poor thing. But it’s not Scott’s.”
“She’s not an ‘it,’ and I really don’t plan to discuss her with you.” She walked past Jeannie toward Jake’s truck. He followed.
“Why’d you come back here?” Jeannie called after them. “Just to ruin our lives? That’s what you do, girlie. You ruin lives!”
Audrey got into the truck and slammed the door. Jake put the key in the ignition. “You want me to run her over? I don’t mind.”
She laughed. “No. Then we’d just have to clean up the mess.”
He shrugged and put the truck in reverse, leaving Jeannie standing there, giving them the finger. They backed out onto the dirt road, then headed toward the main drag. Jeannie was hot on their heels.
“Think she’s going to follow us all the way?” Audrey asked.
Jake glanced in the rearview. “Doubtful. You know she’s just afraid of one—or both—of us enough not to push it.”
Sometimes, thought Audrey, being a murderer had its perks. But she believed Jeannie’s reluctance to fully engage in a fight with her had more to do with whatever secret her mother had over the old crone. Anne still refused to divulge what it was she’d told Jeannie she’d reveal earlier that summer if she didn’t leave Audrey alone.
Ridge Road was less than a quarter mile away on the right. It was also unpaved, but not quite as smooth as Tripp’s Cove. The truck’s tires kicked up gravel as they drove, bouncing occasionally through a pothole. True to Jake’s prediction, Jeannie hadn’t followed them.
There was an old house on the left that Audrey remembered visiting as a kid. It looked like it had been vacant for years, however. Grass grew high around its foundation, and several windows had busted panes—probably caused by kids throwing rocks. Its siding was dull gray with a hint of yellow, the wood rotting and brittle.
“I used to like that place,” she commented.
Jake looked out the window. “I tried to buy it, but the current owner won’t sell. Seems a shame to let the poor thing fall apart like that.”
“What would you do with it?”
He shrugged. “Fix it up. Rent it. Tear it down and build something new. I’d figure something out.”
She shook her head. “I never thought you’d become a real estate mogul.”
“No?” There was amusement in his gaze when he glanced at her. “What did you think I’d become?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, honestly. “I never thought about it. I guess it never mattered to me what you did so long as you were still you.”
His smile faded a little. He cleared his throat, and she watched his eyebrows lower. “I love you.”
He didn’t say it a lot, but it was like opening a window to the most beautiful day every time he did. “I love you too.” And she did. There were people who would classify it as obsessive, probably enabling, but she didn’t care. There was a peace inside her now that hadn’t been there since the day she left Edgeport, and she knew he was the cause of it. If he kicked her out tomorrow she would still love him, and only him, until the day she died. Melodramatic as it was, it was also true.
They drove the rest of the way in silence. Audrey glanced out her window at Wendell Stokes’s house as they passed. The other day she hadn’t noticed there was a satellite dish attached to one tar-papered side. Priorities. There was an old dish—one of those as wide as a car—on its end behind the house near the river, where it had obviously been tossed.
The river led her to thinking about Mike LeBlanc again. What had happened to him? And why couldn’t someone give her a hint as to who Maggie was close to? Yes, Maggie had been a little … free with her body, but she was still a kid, and young girls developed crushes on older guys that were hard to miss, even if they thought they were keeping it secret.
She pushed the thoughts away as they drove deeper back the Ridge. Their destination was a few miles back—maybe five. Not too many people lived back there anymore, but at one time a large portion of Edgeport’s population had owned and worked the blueberry and farmland among the rolling hills. Now it was mostly hunting camps and forgotten homesteads.
It had been back that road that Matt Jones had threatened to rape her back in June. Her grandmother Pelletier once said that she thought there was some kind of poison in the Jones blood, and Audrey used to laugh. But there had been something wrong with that entire family—a mental sickness she couldn’t name or define.
“Here it is,” Jake announced, pulling into a driveway.
“I remember this place,” Audrey remarked. “It belonged to my great-grandparents.”
“Yeah, it used to be in the Pelletier family.” Her mother’s people. He put the truck in park and cut the engine. “They sold it to the Hansoms in the fifties, and then their son sold it to me.”
“Why would you buy this much land?” she asked. “There has to be a few hundred acres to this place.”
“Five hundred and fifty. I bought it for the blueberry land—it borders scrub I already own. If you used this for your facility, the kids could help with processing the berries. I’d pay them, of course. Then some of the proceeds from sales could go back into the property.”
“I like that, and it would definitely give the kids structure.”
Jake opened the truck door. “There are plenty of opportunities for the place to partially fund itself. Come on.”
She climbed out of the truck and followed him up the gravel drive to the main house.
“You’ve been using that place in Morrill as a model, right?” he asked as they walked.
Audrey nodded. “Sort of. They don’t treat violence or major mental illness, while I’d be more open to that, depending on the staff we hire.”
“Okay, well, this place has stables, and plenty of room for horses, dogs—whatever animals you want. Plus, the kids could work the land. It wouldn’t take much to make this a viable farm again.”
She took a look around. “Lots of maple trees too. We could tap them in the spring.”
“Yeah. If it’s allowable I’d like to start something where some of them could work for me. I’d pay them, of course—make them feel they’re earning it rather than it being part of their therapy.”
She stared at him. “You’ve put some thought into this.”
He frowned. “Well, yeah. It’s for you.”
She could have kissed him then, but he kept going. “Think of how many local jobs you’d create—you’d need farm hands, cooks, cleaners. Teachers. You’d have to hire therapists from outside the area, but that’s fine.”
