JONATHAN KELLERMAN. A COLD HEART

Already on-line, I set out to convince myself that there was nothing more to be learned about the other three murders.

Wilfred Reedy’s name came up nearly a hundred times, mostly in discographies and laudatory reviews. Two references to his “tragic murder.” No speculation. Neither Valerie Brusco nor Angelique Bernet merited notice beyond the hits I’d found initially.

I exited the virtual world, phoned Central Division, and asked for the detective who’d handled Reedy’s case. The clerk had no idea what I was talking about and transferred me to a sergeant who said, “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m a consultant to the department—”

“What kind of consultant?”

“Psychologist. I work with Lieutenant Milo Sturgis in West L.A. Division.”

“Then have him call.”

“All I’m asking for is the name of the detective.”

“You have a case number?”

“No.” I repeated Reedy’s name, gave him the date.

“That’s four years ago,” he said. “You got to call Records, downtown.”

Dial tone.

I knew Records wouldn’t give me the time of day and moved on to the Cambridge, Mass., police and Angelique Bernet. A Southie-accented man instructed me this was the new age of Homeland Security and there were forms to be filled out, requirements to be met. When he asked me for my Social Security number, I gave it to him. He said he’d get back to me and cut the connection.

A phone call to the Oregon State Penitentiary, where I inquired about the status of inmate Tom Blascovitch, Valerie Brusco’s ex-boyfriend, evoked similar suspicion and resistance.

I put the phone down. Enough of amateur hour. Let Milo do his thing with Everett Kipper, and if he hit a brick wall, maybe I’d bring up the rest of it.

I was about to scavenge some dinner from the fridge when the phone rang.

“Tomorrow’s fine,” said Allison, “but guess what, so is tonight. The hospice is bringing in entertainment—a comedian and a bluegrass band. What’s your schedule?”

I was waiting out in front of my house as she drove up in her Jag. She’d kept the top down and her hair was wild. When she got out I took her in my arms and kissed her hard.

“Wow,” she said, laughing. “Good to see you, too.”

She slid her arm around my waist and I looped mine over her shoulder as we climbed the stairs to the house.

Inside, she said, “Any of that Bordeaux left?”

“Whatever we didn’t drink last time is still there.”

We went into the kitchen, and I found the wine.

“Oh, my,” she said, looking me over. “You really are happy to see me.”

“You have no idea,” I said.

Lying in darkness, I heard the sharp intake of Allison’s breath.

“Everything okay?”

“Sure,” she said, too quickly. Curled under the covers, her back to me.

I reached over and touched her face. Felt moisture on her cheek.

“What is it?” I said.

“Nothing.” She began crying.

When the tears stopped, she said, “Are we at a point where it’s safe to tell you anything?”

“Of course.”

“I hope so,” she said.

But she didn’t speak.

“Allison?”

“Forget it. I’m fine.”

“Okay.”

Moment later: “Here I was, feeling so good, thinking what could be better than this, and Grant’s face floated into my head. He looked happy—benevolent, happy for me. God, how I need to think of him as being happy.”

“Of course.”

“And then the thoughts came—all he’d missed, how I’d felt about him, how young he was. Alex, I miss him so much! And sometimes the way you touch me—the way you’re tender with me when I need that—it makes me think about him.”

She flipped onto her back. Covered her face with both hands. “I feel so unfaithful. To him, to you. It’s been years, why can’t I let go?”

“You loved him. You never stopped loving him.”

“I never did,” she said. “Maybe I never will—can you deal with that? Because it has nothing to do with you.”

“I’m okay with it.”

“You mean that?”

“I do.”

“I understand your holding on to your feelings about Robin.”

“My feelings,” I said.

“Am I wrong?”

I didn’t answer.

“You had years together,” she said. “You’d have to be shallow to just toss it aside.”

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *