Dark Truth Page 9

  “We did.” Alec giggled. “But Mrs. Garrity was snack mom today and she brought cupcakes with little candy bars on top for after the game, and we’ve got sugar highs.”

  “Yeah, we’ve got sugar highs,” Reed said as the two boys collapsed on each other in laughter.

  “Okay, settle down, both of you.” Wes was going to have to ask the coach to have a chat with Mrs. Garrity about suitable after-game snacks. “Sugar high or no, you need to remember you’re in a public place, and acting like goons is not acceptable.”

  “He’s the goon.” Alec poked at Reed.

  “You’re the goon.” Reed poked back.

  Another round of silly laughter followed.

  Wes paid for the pizza and drinks and led the boys to the back booth.

  “Water?” Alec wrinkled his nose. “We want Coke.”

  “Sorry, bud. Something has to wash all that cupcake sugar out of your system.”

  “We’re gonna pee sugar-water.” Alec dissolved in a fit of hysteria.

  “Eat.” Wes rapped his knuckles softly on the table. “Enough silliness for one meal, okay? Just settle down.”

  The boys tried, but every once in a while, one of them would snicker.

  Wes tried to distract them.

  “That was a good game you guys played today,” he said.

  “We sucked.” Alec picked the pepperoni from his slice, tilted his head back, and dropped the meat into his open mouth.

  “Yeah, that’s why we lost.” Reed nodded. “ ’Cause we suck.”

  “Well, you know, it’s just a game, fellas. You play hard, sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. But it’s just a game.”

  “That’s not what my dad said last time, when we won,” Reed told Wes. “He said you’re supposed to play to win.”

  “Well, you hope to win, that’s why you always play your best.” Wes nodded. “But there’s something to be learned from winning and from losing.”

  “What did we learn today?” Alec asked him.

  “That even when we suck, we still get pizza.” Reed elbowed him in the ribs.

  It seemed to Wes that the rest of the afternoon went downhill from there.

  His ex-wife, Claudia, topped it off for him when he dropped Alec off.

  “For God’s sake, Wes, can’t you ever be on time for anything?” She met him at the door where she’d obviously been waiting.

  “Sorry. The game ran late, then we stopped for pizza . . .”

  “You could have forgone the pizza.”

  “I promised Alec and Reed we’d stop.”

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. Something about the way Claudia expressed herself always made him feel as if he were a child being scolded for a very disappointing deed. He hadn’t appreciated it when they were married, and he didn’t appreciate it now. With Alec standing next to him, he wasn’t about to take her to task for it. It never did any good, anyway. Claudia was Claudia. Gorgeous, brash, and bossy. Always had been, always would be. There had been a time when Wes hadn’t minded quite as much.

  “I said I was sorry. I’ll try to keep better track of the time next weekend.”

  “Alec and I are going to see my mother next weekend.”

  “Right. The following weekend, then.”

  Claudia sighed. “No, you won’t. You’ll have all good intentions to. But you won’t. And you’ll be late again. And you’ll make me late for whatever it is I’ll be waiting to do.”

  “If you’re so late, why are you standing here arguing with me?”

  “Point well taken.” Claudia grinned and closed the door in his face.

  Alec tapped on the window to yell good-bye. Wes waved and got into his car. It was coming up on six P.M., already dark, and the storm clouds were gathering. He drove back toward Stone River, and somehow found himself on Shore Drive.

  He slowed to a near stop as he drove past Regan Landry’s driveway. He couldn’t see the rambling contemporary house from the road, but he thought he might have been able to make out a bit of light back through the scrub pines.

  He still couldn’t believe that Stephen Madden’s daughter was digging into that old case. That man had been guilty as sin. There’d never been a question in Wes’s mind.

  He couldn’t help but wonder how Nina was going to feel when she wasn’t able to find any evidence that would convince him to reopen the case.

  Or how he’d feel if she did.

  Eleven

  When Regan returned to Maryland on Tuesday night and found that an early-morning storm had washed out Shore Drive, she did what she always did when the road was impassable. She went to the marina outside of town, left her car, and borrowed a small outboard motorboat from the owner. Twenty minutes after leaving the marina, she was pulling up to the dock behind her house and tying the craft to the pilings. When the road was reopened, she’d return the boat to its owner and drive her car home. It was a small price to pay for the joy of living right on the Chesapeake.

  Swinging her overnight bag over her shoulder, she trudged up the walk to the house. The heavy rains had redistributed quite a bit of the mulch from the beds around the deck, and she’d have to remember to rake it back into place. But later, she told herself. Not tonight.

  Tonight she was going to take a long hot bath and mull over all she’d discovered about the mysterious Eddie Kroll during her trip to Illinois.

  And all she hadn’t learned.

  Elusive bastard, she reflected as she unlocked her back door and stepped inside. If not for the sticky note Nina had left on the refrigerator door, Regan would never have known that she’d had a weekend houseguest. All the dishes had been washed and put away and the floor had been cleaned as well. She stepped into the study, which was as neat as a pin, except for the pile of boxes Nina had left standing against the bookcase, along with copies of the notes she’d made, as Regan had asked her to do. She’d get to those in another day or two. Right now, Regan had notes of her own to review.

  First of all, there was the matter of Dolly Brown. In her mid-to-late sixties, Dolly had dyed pale strawberry blond hair and lovely deep blue eyes, and was ten or fifteen pounds short of plump. She’d called after seeing an ad Regan had placed in a local newspaper, and told Regan she’d known Eddie Kroll as a child and that her family had lived next door to the Krolls. Regan had flown to Sayreville to meet with Dolly, who’d proven to be a bit of a puzzle herself.

  For one thing, who Dolly Brown was in relation to Eddie Kroll seemed to change on a daily basis. First, she claimed to have been a neighbor. But when Regan pressed Dolly to tell her what happened to Eddie after he left juvenile hall, she claimed not to know.

  “Well, where do you think he went?” Regan had asked. “What was the talk in the neighborhood?”

  “The talk was that he died.”

  “In juvie?”

  Dolly had paused. “After he got out.”

  “How did he die?”

  “I never heard that part.”

  “Where is he buried?”

  “I don’t know.” Dolly had shaken her head.

  “Why can’t I find a death notice, or a death certificate?”

  Dolly had shrugged.

  “The parish doesn’t even have any records on Eddie’s death. How likely is that?” Regan had persisted.

  “I think maybe he didn’t die around here.” Dolly had looked down and started picking at the chipped nail polish on her left thumbnail. “I think maybe he didn’t come back here after he got out.”

  “Well, where do you think he went?”

  “I don’t remember. I don’t know that I ever knew. I was younger than he was. I just didn’t pay a whole lot of attention.”

  “Can you show me where he used to live?”

  “What?” Dolly had appeared surprised by the question.

  “The house Eddie used to live in. You must remember where that is, if you used to live next door.”

  “Of course I remember.” Dolly had grown indignant.

  “Show me how t
o get there, then.” Regan opened the car door, and Dolly got in the passenger side with what seemed to Regan to be a great deal of reluctance.

  Dolly gave the directions, and Regan followed them. A few minutes later they were parked in front of a small, neat, white clapboard twin house. On the side where Dolly said the Krolls had once lived, an old man sat on the porch and rocked in a wooden chair that was painted the same bright blue as the shutters.

  “Let’s go talk to him.” Regan pointed to the man. “Maybe he knows where Eddie is.”

  “He’s lucky if he knows where he is.” Dolly made no effort to move from the front seat. “Carl has Alzheimer’s, and on any given day, doesn’t remember his own name.”

  “But on any given day, he just might.” Regan got out of the car and started walking toward the house. Dolly still gave no indication she was going to follow until Regan banged on the side of the car door.

  Dolly grumbled, but got out.

  “I’d prefer not to agitate him,” Dolly said.

  “He doesn’t look agitated. He’s smiling.”

  “He does a lot of that these days. He just doesn’t know any better.”

  “Well, he seems to know you. He’s waving for us to come up to the porch.”

  Regan waved back and started up the cement walk to the porch.

  “You coming?” she called to Dolly without looking back.

  “You coming to see me, pretty lady?” the man asked as Regan approached.

  “I certainly am.” Regan smiled. “I can’t resist a chance to chat with such a handsome guy.”

  “You sit right down here, honey.” He pointed to the chair next to him.

  Regan sat, and was about to speak when the door opened and a woman leaned out.

  “May I help you?” She looked upon Regan with suspicion.

  “This here is Regan Landry.” Dolly hurried up the walk. “She put an ad in the local paper, looking for someone who knew Eddie Kroll, and I answered it.”

  “Oh. Really.” The woman stepped onto the porch and closed the door behind her.

  “Yes. You are . . .”

  “Stella. Carl’s wife, Stella.” She regarded Regan curiously.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. . . . ?”

  “Everyone just calls her Stella,” Dolly told her.

  “Dolly, you remember that time me and Eddie caught all those little fish down in the stream there at Holman Park and brought them home and put them in the frying pan?” Carl looked over at Stella and began to laugh. “Mom came in and found all those dead, blackened little bait fish all over the place, liked to kill the both of us.”

  “I remember, Carl,” Dolly said softly.

  “So, you knew Eddie pretty well, did you?” Regan asked.

  “Sure, I knew Eddie. We were . . .” A look of confusion crossed his face and he looked to his wife for help. “What were we again?”

  “Brothers, sweetheart,” Stella told him gently. “You and Eddie were brothers.”

  “That’s right,” Carl said as if reminding himself of something important. “We were brothers, me and Eddie.”

  He looked up at Stella and asked, “Is he still alive?”

  “No, sweetie, he died.” She leaned over and patted his hands. “Both of your brothers died.”

  “Harry died, too?” The look of confusion returned.

  “Harry, too.” She smoothed his steel gray hair back from his face. “You’re the last brother, Carl. The last of the Kroll boys.”

  “The last one.” He head moved slowly, side to side, as if amazed by the news. “The last one . . .”

  “Mrs. Kroll, do you know what happened to him? To Eddie?”

  Stella paused, then turned to Regan. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t know. It happened before I met Carl. No one ever seemed to want to talk about it, so I never pushed it. Sorry.”

  She touched Regan gently on the arm and said, “It was a pleasure to meet you. It really was. I wish you luck in your search, and in your life. And with your books.” Stella turned back to Carl. “Right now, I’m going to take my sweetie into the house and give him some lunch. Dolly, I’ll be talking to you.”

  With Dolly’s help, Stella got Carl out of the chair, and together the elderly couple walked into the house and closed the door behind them.

  “Guess you’ll be wanting to be heading back to the airport.” Dolly brushed her hands together in a sort of “that’s that” motion. “Mind dropping me off at my house?”

  “I don’t mind.” Regan rose from her seat. “But my flight isn’t until Tuesday morning. I have all the time in the world.”

  When they got into the car, Regan turned to Dolly and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me that Eddie’s brother still lived in this house?”

  “Because I didn’t know what kind of a day he’d be having. Some days he remembers things like it was yesterday. Other days, just the mention of Eddie’s name sets him off and he gets really agitated, and then Stella has a real hard time with him. I didn’t want you coming over here and getting something started that Stella was going to have to deal with.”

  “You seem to know a lot about the situation,” Regan said as she started the car.

  “Me and Stella been friends for a long time.” Dolly stared straight ahead.

  “Dolly, I’m not here to upset anyone, or to disrupt anyone’s life.”

  “Right. You just want to know about Eddie because your father had his report cards.” There was a hint of sarcasm in Dolly’s voice.

  “Well, now, how do you suppose that could have happened?” Regan drove slowly, prolonging the ride as long as she could. “How would my dad, a writer who’d spent so much of his life in England, come to have the report cards of a young man who’d disappeared years earlier in Illinois?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Don’t you think it’s odd? I mean, Eddie’s family is still living in the same house he’d been living in when he was arrested. Wouldn’t you think they’d have kept his things?”

  Dolly shrugged.

  “I suppose I can always go back and ask Stella if she knew if any of Eddie’s things were tossed out.”

  “Stella has enough on her hands, with Carl not knowing from one day to the next who he is or where he is. You call her about Eddie’s things, and the next thing, you’re going to want to start talking about what happened that got Eddie sent away.”

  “You must have still been living next door to him at the time. Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

  “You can learn everything you want to know from the newspapers. I’ll bet you’re real good at finding things out on the Internet.”

  “Actually, I am. Thank you.” Regan tried not to smile. “And I have read the articles. Every one I could find. But I know enough to know that there’s always so much more to a story than what you see in print.”

  Dolly sat rigid in the passenger seat, staring out the window.

  “Let’s start with the basics, then,” Regan said. “Did Eddie do it? Was he guilty of killing his friend?”

  “Yes. He did it. He wasn’t alone, and he was led into it by the other two, but he never denied that he’d hit the boy.”

  “The others were James Cash and Leonard Wilson.”

  “Yes, those two. Big fifteen-year-olds, used Eddie to lure Joey into that vacant lot.”

  “How’d he do that?”

  “Eddie knew Joey from school, the other two boys didn’t know him as well. They told Eddie to tell Joey that he’d stolen some cigarettes from the drugstore, and that he’d sell him some cheap.”

  “What was the motive? Why did they want to kill this boy?”

  “Eddie said he didn’t know they were going to kill him. He thought they were only going to rob him.”

  “How much did they get?”

  “Twenty-two dollars and nineteen cents,” Dolly said quietly. She was still staring out the window. “They gave all the money to Eddie.”

  “I don’t understand. Why would they do that if the id
ea was to rob this kid? Granted, it wasn’t much of a haul, but why do it and not split up the money?”

  “They didn’t do it for the money. That’s just what they told Eddie, so that he’d go along with it. Jimmy and Len were planning all along to hurt Joey.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he’d done some things with Jimmy’s sister and spread it all over school.”

  “The newspapers said that all three of the boys— Cash, Wilson, and Kroll—took part in beating Joey to death with rocks and bricks.”

  “Eddie admitted having smacked Joey in the head with a board he found lying on the ground.”

  “For twenty-two dollars?” Regan frowned.

  “The other two told him Joey would have a couple hundred on him.” Dolly turned to look at Regan. “Joey’s father owned the dry cleaners in town. Joey used to brag that on Friday nights, he helped his father close up, and then his father would go to the tavern on his way home. Instead of taking all the week’s receipts with him, he’d send it home with Joey. Turned out not to be true, but there wasn’t a kid in town who hadn’t heard Joey brag about how some nights he’d have hundreds of dollars in his pockets.”

  “So Joey was a talker. Talked about the girls he scored with, talked about how much money he carried around with him.”

  “He had a big mouth, all right.” Dolly nodded. “My mother always said a big mouth would get you in trouble every time. Joey’s big mouth got him killed.”

  “Was Eddie friendly with these other two boys?”

  “Not friendly, so much as . . . I’m not sure, but I think he was sort of in awe of them. They were two years older, they were sort of the big guys in the neighborhood, you know what I mean? The cool guys. All the freshmen looked up to them.”

  “So when they needed someone to get to Joey, they just picked one of the younger boys to lure him to the vacant lot.”

  “Right. The way I understood it at the time, they could have picked anyone. It just seems that Eddie came along at the wrong time.”

  “The newspapers said that both of the other boys claimed that Eddie had been behind the whole thing. That he’d planned it; he’d recruited them because they were bigger and stronger.