Private #1 Suspect (Private 2)

Jane’s message to Tommy was the prodding I needed to do what my gut had been telling me to do since the beginning.

CHAPTER 115

I PARKED IN the driveway of a house with a pediment and Doric columns and underwater lights turning the reflecting pool deep ocean-blue. It was the very picture of over-the-top conspicuous consumption as only Californians could do it.

Lights were on in the house.

I set the brake, climbed the walk, rang the doorbell a couple of times, and when no one came to the door, I let myself into the house.

I found my sister-in-law in the five-hundred-thousand-dollar kitchen, making chocolate pudding and watching Goodfellas on TV. Her back was to me.

I said, not too loud, “Annie. Hey.”

Annie screamed and dropped the spoon. She turned, hands to her cheeks, still screaming.

“It’s me, it’s me. I rang the bell.”

She took a breath, put her arms out, and hugged me. “You’re a menace, Jack,” she said. “Feel my heart racing?”

“I’m sorry.” Maybe she’d lied to give my brother an alibi, but I loved her anyway.

“Are you okay?” she asked me.

I hugged her, patted her back, said, “I’m fine. But I’ve got to see Tommy. Believe it or not, I need his help.”

“He’s in the barn. Go wake up your nephew. He’s worried about you. Take this.”

She took a jug of milk out of the refrigerator, poured a glass, and handed it to me. “You remember where his room is?”

Ned was asleep.

I turned on the lamp and lit up a room lined with posters: military recruitment, dinosaurs, action figures. I sat on the side of the bed, looked at the eight-year-old boy who wasn’t my child but carried half my genes.

I put the milk down, touched Ned’s arm, said, “Hey, buddy. It’s your old uncle Jack.”

His eyelids flew open and he sat up fast, throwing his arms around my chest. I hugged him and kissed his hair.

“How are you, buddy? How’s Ned?”

He pulled back and grinned at me. “I was digging and look what I found. Dad says it’s older than he is.”

I followed his finger, saw the old glass Coke bottle on the night table. I picked it up, and admired it under the light.

“This is fantastic. It’s a real antique.”

“I saw you on TV,” Ned said. I put the bottle down, and Ned was back in my arms, talking into my chest. “They said you killed someone. Colleen.”

“It’s not true, honey. I know what people say, but I didn’t kill her. I’m being framed.”

He looked up at me, questions and tears in his eyes.

“Someone lied about you? But why? ”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s not right. That’s whack, Uncle Jack.”

“He’s not going to get away with it. I’m not kidding.”